“We both found out that day that fresh blood sends them into a frenzy,” said Brickman as he turned rested the blade along his wrist. “It’s been an honour to serve with you, Sergeant.”
Jackson grabbed the man’s arm, “Don’t you even fucking think about it, I need you alive. What the fuck would this achieve?”
“It would create a diversion; allow you and the men to get out of here. While they’re fighting over me, you can slip out through the fire exit.”
Jackson shook his head. “No, no way. I’m not letting you do this, there’s got to be another solution.”
They both jumped as a pair of hands grabbed their legs.
“I’ll do it,” said Kirk. “I’m dead anyway. That stuff is still eating into my body. Now give me that knife.”
Brickman looked at Jackson who slowly nodded. He pressed the handle into Kirk’s trembling hand.
“Thank you,” said Kirk.
“Remember me.”
The injured man let out one gasp then plunged the blade into his stomach.
Jackson wiped his eyes, surprised to find tears there. Kirk had given his life for the squad; Brickman would have done the same if he hadn’t stopped him. The qualities of honour and loyalty were alien to people like Tyler.
Jackson looked at the closed door; he heard the bastard’s footsteps echoing toward the lab.
“My actions are justified,” he murmured.
The door opened, if the Major seemed surprised not to see the technician in the room, he gave no indication.
“I’ll give you just five seconds to explain to me just what the fuck you’re up to, Jackson.”
The Sergeant turned and walked up to the cage, he slipped the bloodied shirt between the bars. Ever since the incident in the café, Jackson had listened and discussed Brickman’s ideas with him. The Corporal was quite a perceptive young man and his insights into how these fuckers ticked had taught Jackson a lot.
“What are you doing?”
The Sergeant just hoped that the knowledge he’d gained wasn’t going to kill him. He watched three oily, black flexible pipes emerge from under the creature’s base and slither toward the shirt; as it sensed the blood soaked into the material, it let out a deep moan.
“Jesus Fucking Christ!” exclaimed Tyler. “What’s it doing that for?”
Jackson removed his secret smile before he turned to the Major. He made sure that the man couldn’t see the shirt.
“We need to find that technician, Sir. The slimy fucker has lost it. When I came in here, he was talking to this monstrosity as if it was a baby. When he saw me, he fled.”
Jackson moved to one side, Tyler’s eyes widened.
“I believe he’s been feeding human subjects to this thing. Two of my men have been reported missing in the last hour.”
He watched Tyler approach the cage, “It’s okay Sir, it’s quite docile at the moment. To prove his point, Jackson grabbed hold of the bars. He gazed into the creature’s black eyes, hoping to fuck that this bastard would sense Jackson’s intent. The Major joined him by the cage.
“So this is what they look like up close.” He reached for his pistol. “Let’s see how bullet proof they are.”
Jackson stood back one pace and waited for the man to have the gun in his hand before he moved; he expected the creature would know what the man had planned for him. Jackson grabbed Tyler’s arms and pushed him against the bars; the man struggled like crazy but Jackson was ready for that, what the Sergeant didn’t expect was for Tyler to ram his head back. He hit Jackson smack in the middle of his forehead, the man let go and fell back. He groaned and shook his head to clear the dizziness.
“I’m going to gut you for that, you fucker.”
Despite having trouble focussing, he rushed forward then stopped dead when he heard the other man cry out in agony. Jackson’s vision came back and what he saw almost made him throw up. The creature had pushed out dozens more of those pipes from under its base. Each one was wrapped around the Major’s struggling body, he gazed in horror as they forced Tyler’s body through one of the gaps.
As the creature bent over the mutilated corpse, it abruptly pressed its head against the bars, it looked at the Sergeant then slowly winked. Jackson whimpered before fleeing.
Chapter Nine
Miles crouched behind a cardboard display and peeked around the edge; he watched the furry horde of sharp teeth, pincers and spikes scurry past the bookshop.
“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” he muttered. “What the fuck are those things?”
He took a deep breath before standing up. He couldn’t believe just how close he’d just come to being pulled apart by that lot. He knew what Edgar had told him; that the smaller animals like rats and cats had been changed, hell he’d even seen one of them up close and personal but he never in his life realised that there would be so fucking many.
“You’re never more than six feet away from a rat,” he murmured. Who had said that to him now? Then it clicked. A couple of years ago, the biscuit factory where he worked had called in pest control due to three pigeons roosting inside the ceiling. He remembered sitting down in the canteen with one of the men who took great delight in recounting his past work related experiences as Miles attempted to eat his cottage pie.
For the first time today, he wondered if trying to save Amber really was such a good idea after all. He got to his feet and walked further into the bookshop and away from that broken window. From what Edgar had said, the chances of the woman still being alive were very slim and growing slimmer as each minute passed. Would it not be best if Miles just forgot about the Institute and made his way out into the country?
He ducked down again when a huge shadow passed in front of the window; that was one of those big bastards out there. Was it tracking him, did that thing know he was inside here? According to what Edgar had said, they could track each and every remaining human so the prospect of getting to safety now seemed more appealing than ever. If they did have their own version of sat-nav what chance did he have of staying alive for more than a few hours?
Miles stuck his thumb into his mouth and bit down; the self-inflicted pain helped him to plough through the self-pity that stuck to his psyche like wet shit to a blanket. He refused to believe that he had seriously considered leaving her in there. He didn’t know she had perished and should know better than to make such an assumption.
Amber was the only person left in his life who cared about him and if he chucked her on the scrap heap then he may as well end it here and now.
“Well done,” he muttered, “an excellent speech now, tell me how you’re going to find the Institute.”
Miles stood up; he brushed himself down then smiled. “Fuck off, self-doubt. You ain’t going to get your own back that way. I’m in a bookshop, you fool.”
He took one more glance toward the window then padded over to the map section; there were bound to be some city maps over there. Miles walked past the History and Science section and stopped by Film and Music. He sighed; one quick look wouldn’t hurt. He’d spent many hours searching through movie books researching film stars and looking for obscure films, that had been way before he’d discovered the internet. Miles picked out one particular book he remembered buying nearly a decade ago. The action movie reference bible was renowned for classifying every movie from every country spanning back to the 20’s; he must have read his own copy from cover to cover at least twice, it made fascinating reading. This was the updated version, and the last ever version to come out now.
Miles was about to flick to the last few entries when his eyes caught a flash of blue and green just by his foot, he assumed it must have been a dropped book until from the corner of his eye, he saw it move.
He jumped back and his eyes darted down. The same type of abomination that had taken a chunk out of Edgar’s leg stared back at him. Miles gasped and threw the book at it. He didn’t stay around to see if he’d hit it, he spun around and raced for the stairs at the back of the shop. Oh shit; he then remembered that he’d left the gun in that record shop, how stupid was that? He could have dropped that thing with one shot.
“And you’d have brought the rest of them in here with the noise.”
The book hadn’t stopped it, he heard its claws clacking against the wooden floor. The sign beside him told Miles that there was a coffee shop on the top floor. If it managed to follow him up the stairs, he’d make his last stand behind the counter, hopefully with a nice big knife at his disposal.
Miles took the stairs two at a time when he reached the next floor, he looked behind him, stairs weren’t stopping it and to make matters worse, another one had joined it, this one though made the abomination look like a cuddly teddy.
“Oh fuck. I’m dead.”
This one resembled a bright blue-segmented worm covered in thick plates of armour. To make matters worse, if that was even possible, hooks and claws protruded from its front. This nightmarish construct looked like it had escaped from the imagination of a fucking lunatic. It was the size of it that sent his mind spinning; it must have been as big as him. Miles turned back around and raced through the Fiction section, painfully aware that they were gaining on him.
Somehow, alerting all the other monsters with noise from his shotgun didn’t seem so important now.
“I should have kept it,”
Miles changed direction and headed away from the next set of stairs; if he did get to the last level, he’d be trapped up there with no way of escaping and from what he’d seen of that other creature, he’d need more than a fucking steak knife to take that thing down. He ran past the Horror section and then skidded to a halt. Bookshops didn’t just sell books anymore. Miles picked up an armful of paperbacks and launched them one by one at the approaching creatures. The assault appeared to confuse them; the armoured creature then reared up and attacked a bookshelf next to it. Miles turned and ran through the Science Fiction section thinking how apt it would be if those things attacked and slaughtered him in amongst all these alien invasion stories.
He then slowed right down; something had changed, he controlled his heavy breathing and listened.
“What the hell?”
They’d just gone, he couldn’t hear nor could he see them. He peered around the bookcase, wondering if the little bastards were attempting to sneak up on him. Miles didn’t see them but he did spot something he wasn’t expecting.
Sat at a table in front of him was a young man a few years younger than Miles. He had his head buried in what looked like a romance novel. Miles guessed his age to be around nineteen, he was a big lad, his shoulders and arms were huge. It was muscle created by hard, strenuous labour, not gym work.
The boy slammed the book shut and ran his forefinger down the spine. “Look at what I’ve done,” he exclaimed.
Miles thought the boy was talking to him until he noticed the boy’s eyes were gazing at the bookcase to the side of Miles.
“They’ll never be able to sell this now.”
Miles coughed. The boy screamed and dropped the book on the floor.
“Sorry,” said Miles. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He picked the book off the floor and handed it back to the boy. “If it helps, I don’t think anybody would want to buy it anyway.”
“You shouldn’t be so dismissive,” he replied. “I’m Alistair, by the way.”
It hadn’t taken the boy long to regain his composure.
“These silly love stories are really popular, granted, with me being twenty five, I really should be reading war stories or horror books.” Alistair sighed; he opened the book and flicked through the pages. “It’s weird, really. Until all this happened, I was never interested in reading. My deity of pleasure was the soaps on telly.”
Miles glanced behind him, there was still no sign of those things. He wondered if he ought to leave this guy here and make tracks before those creatures returned. He had no intention of overstaying his welcome. Miles suddenly wondered how this kid had managed to evade the creatures.
“Look, I’m sorry, I can’t stay. Do you want to come with me?”
The lad shook his head, “No, sorry I can’t. I’m Alistair by the way. Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve already told you that. I don’t suppose you have any food do you? I can’t remember the last time I ate something…” Alistair furtively glanced around the store. “Something normal.” He whispered.
Miles shook his head.
“Oh, that’s a shame. Well is there any chance of you passing me that really thick hardback by your right hand? That should keep me going for at least a week.”
Miles jumped when something under his table moved. He took a couple of steps forward and crouched down, “what the fuck is that?” he exclaimed.
Alistair let out a bitter laugh. “I bet it looks really gross now. I stopped looking a few days ago.”
Thick, black cords of what appeared to be creeper vine had burst through the floor tiles and entwined around both Alistair’s legs and the legs of the table; upon closer inspection, Miles saw hundreds of needle-like spines pushed into the boy’s skin. Around each spine the flesh looked rotten, leprous. Miles turned away and stood up. He felt gorge rising up. What the hell was it? It reminded him of an insect caught in a carnivorous plant.
“Oh, yeah that,” replied Alistair. “This is mother’s way of punishing me. I put bleach in her tea. I also put wee in and loads of other stuff too. I was supposed to look after her when she was bed-ridden.”
Miles yelped as the two creatures brushed past him, Jesus, he hadn’t even heard them approach. They took no notice of Miles and jumped on the table. He watched gob smacked as the large creature hopped across the surface, purring.
Alistair turned to Miles, “Best you don’t watch this. It’s pretty gross.”