Spores (7 page)
Amber shook her head, “I guess they wouldn’t tell them, either that or they’d make something up.”
Patsy nodded, “You’ve hit the nail on the head there, lass, just like telling us that they were going to bring the teams back in.”
“Andy is out there too.”
It was Patsy’s turn to go pale. “No, Amber, you must have it wrong, only Miles and Edger were due out.”
“He took a team out before you started your shift, Andy didn’t want you to know.”
Patsy turned away from her and slowly walked towards the open cupboard with her face to the floor. “He didn’t want me to know?”
Oh Christ, maybe this wasn’t the best time to tell her that Andy had gone out looking for a ring. “He said he was going to get you a present. I thought he was only joking.”
She looked at Amber, tears were rolling down her face, “and now he’s dead.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I heard gunfire earlier on; I thought that the Colonel’s monsters were knocking on the doors.”
Amber couldn’t trust herself to speak, she had visions of the men’s horror struck faces as their comrades started to fall around them. Patsy was right, if there were monsters outside, that Colonel wouldn’t risk sending any of his men out there.
“Look Patsy, both teams have radios, all we have to do is get our arses up to the departure lounge and warn them.”
Her friend slowly nodded.
“And don’t give up hope just yet. Nine times out of ten, the teams are late to check in anyway.”
Amber hurried over to the door, “Come on Patsy, it won’t take us long to get up there.”
She spun around when she heard a muffled scream, as Amber turned; she caught sight of Patsy’s legs disappearing up through the ceiling.
Chapter Six
Miles didn’t need to see that those things were still behind them, he could smell them. Oh Jesus, the stomach-heaving stench made him wish that he hadn’t thrown his mask away.
The wet smell of decaying vegetables accompanied the creatures like a toxic cloud. Miles hadn’t breathed through his nose for over ten minutes now, not that it made any difference; he could almost taste the rancid smell. How his partner hadn’t noticed it was beyond him.
He crawled a few more inches and only stopped when he saw Edgar jerking to a halt.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
Edgar just shook his head. He wasn’t sure whether that meant that he didn’t know or to just stop talking. Miles turned and sat down, resting his back against a wooden board. He knew that they should keep moving; they needed to find somewhere safe so they could work out what to do next. He needed to stop anyhow, he was knackered.
Miles took an experimental sniff and found to his surprise that the smell wasn’t so bad now; maybe those things had gotten bored and buggered off, oh God, he hoped so. Something crashed to the floor on the other side of the shop followed by a bear-like roar. Shitting hell, they hadn’t gone anywhere.
Edgar continued his crawl and Miles saw the state of the carpet beneath his leg, the fibres had begun to rot away. Edgar was getting worse by the minute. It was Edgar’s mutilated leg that was the main source of the stench.
Why on earth had he insisted on coming in here in the first place? It didn’t make any sense to him. Why did Edgar choose a music shop? A hardware store or a supermarket would have been a wiser choice or, even better, a bloody gun shop.
When Miles had made it quite clear that he wasn’t about to leave him, Edgar had just clammed up, he’d spent nearly one hour following him around the centre, the only animation he’d shown was when he’d hobbled past this shop.
One of the televisions in the media department toppled over, Miles slid further down. Bloody hell, if Edgar hadn’t thrown that brick through the window, then those two monsters wouldn’t have followed them in
Miles saw something out of the corner of his eye; he risked a peek over the CD display. There were half a dozen black tentacles reaching towards the ceiling, they were just like the revolting things that caught Edgar, only a lot thicker. Each one of those vines was barbed, like rose branches. He imagined just one of those tendrils wrapping around his torso and shuddered; it would rip him in two.
Edgar tapped him on the shoulders and then handed him a pile of empty CD cases.
“What the hell do you want me to do with these?”
He didn’t look at Miles, his eyes were fixed on those tentacles as they felt their way across the ceiling, the things were growing longer with each passing second. Edgar pointed behind Miles, he almost screamed.
The other monster was copying, only its tentacles were a lot closer.
“Throw that pile towards the t-shirt display,” whispered Edgar. “Then run like fuck over to that staff only door over there by the listening booths.”
He thought Edgar had lost his marbles; they should be running towards the fire exit. Miles saw Edgar’s own CD pile fly into the air. When they came clattering down, some landing on the floor, other hitting the country and western section, the response from the tentacles on the other side of the room was immediate. They flowed along the ceiling at incredible speed before hanging down; some of them picked up the empty cases and crushed them. They didn’t retreat; they formed a lethal curtain, an impenetrable barrier. Their route back to the broken window had just been cut off.
Edgar hobbled as fast as his one good leg could take him towards the staff door, he glanced behind him, his face drained of blood. “Come on!” he shouted.
While Miles had been stood there holding the pile of CD’s the other tentacles had flowed towards him, they were now inches from his face. He screamed and threw the CD’s into the air then bolted over to the door. His heart almost gave out when he saw the black metal combination lock next to the handle.
“Oh Jesus, fucking God! What are we going to do now?”
Edgar just punched in five numbers and pushed open the door. Miles followed him through and slammed the door behind him.
“How the fuck did you know the code?” he asked, panting.
Edgar slowly began to climb the stairs, “How do you think you idiot? I used to work here a few years back, they never used to change the code back then. I figured they’d probably keep with tradition.”
He followed him up the stairs. “Bloody hell! What if they had changed the code? Did you ever think of that?”
Edgar looked back at him, “Of course I did, I did tell you not to follow me though. I need somewhere to rest Miles, I’m tired and things are happening to me that I can’t explain.”
Edgar hobbled over to a chair and collapsed into it; he tried to smile at him but it quickly turned to a grimace. Miles could not imagine how much pain he was in. That leg was getting worse.
Miles jumped and ran up the remaining stairs when something banged into the door.
“Don’t worry,” said Edgar, “they were probably just turning around.”
“How can you be so damn sure?”
“Do you honestly think that a thin wooden door would be able to keep them out? Like I said, they’re turning around, the buggers are both leaving.”
Miles placed his pack and weapons on the table and sat down opposite Edgar, relieved that he could no longer see the man’s legs. Edgar took his eyes off the battered Formica table and stared at Miles. After a few seconds, he had to turn away from the man’s intense gaze.
“You really do have to go, Miles. I’m changing into one of those things.”
Miles shook his head, “No way dude, I ain’t leaving you. I’ll get you back to the Institute somehow. Doctor Phoebes will know what to do.”
Edgar laughed, “Doctor Phoebes is a second class vet. I wouldn’t trust that old bastard with a cut finger. A fully equipped hospital wouldn’t be able to sort this mess out now; I’m too far gone.”
Miles pulled the radio towards him and began hunting through the channels; he didn’t want to listen to Edgar’s matter of fact statements any longer. He was the closest friend he’d ever had, despite only knowing him for a few weeks, and now, just like his wife, Edgar wanted him to leave.
After spending a few moments of searching through the static filled channels, he gave up and pushed the antiquated thing away.
“It take it from your pissed off face that the radio is still buggered.”
Miles felt the urge to throw the bloody thing on the floor, “I can’t get anything out of it.”
“I’m not surprised,” he replied. “They hadn’t exactly supplied us with the best equipment.”
He smiled, and then closed his eyes.
“Jesus! Are you alright?”
Edgar nodded, “I am now, all my physical pain has just gone away. It appears that my transformation has just reached a new phase.” He jerked his head towards the stairs, “They’ve just caught scent of a group of humans entering the city. You should be safe to leave here in a few minutes.”
“How on earth could you possibly know that?”
Miles jumped when he heard the sound of a window exploding. He pushed back his chair and ran over to the window at the far side of the room.
“Don’t get too close to the glass, Miles,” shouted Edgar. “It appears that out our friends haven’t forgotten you after all; they’ll still take you out if you give them the opportunity.”
Mile took his advice and stepped away from the window, he still saw the huge fog blurred shapes emerge from the building and disappear into the mist. He hoped to God that those other people would see sense and turn away before it was too late. He turned and gazed at his friend, he decided that it was probably best if he stayed where he was fore the time being. Edgar’s baggy suit now resembled a white balloon stretched over a pile of engine parts.
“I can now hear them all, Miles. I feel their insatiable hunger.” He looked across at Miles; his eyes were now as black as pitch. “I can also sense your thoughts too. The fear and confusion pulsing from you is strong, I can almost taste it.”
Edgar picked up the shotgun; he snapped it open and checked both cartridges before he clicked it shut.
“One shot ought to do the trick Miles but it’s best to be double sure.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked. Miles knew damn well what his friend wanted him to do.
“Don’t try to feign ignorance, I’m asking you to do this as a friend. Do you think I want to turn into one of those things?”
Edgar slid the shotgun across the tiled floor.
“I don’t have long left.”
Miles reluctantly picked up the shotgun. “I don’t think I can do this.”
Edgar shrugged, “Then your unwillingness will doom you; when I do finish changing, I won’t be able to control myself and I’ll eat you. It’s as simple as that. It’s another reason why our friends left. They knew that I don’t have much time left and you are supposed to be my first meal.”
A dozen segmented brown vines ripped through the suit fabric, they quickly grew down to the floor then whipped out and wrapped around the table legs.
“I only have a few minutes left before the rest of my humanity is buried beneath this relentless hunger that’s beginning to surface.”
Miles watched in horror as Edgar’s eyes began to divide; within seconds they transformed into something insectile.
“Before you do pull that trigger, you have to listen to me.”
Edgar’s arms and torso had begun to fill out.
“They know about the Institute. If those people huddling in that place think they’re safe then they have a Major shock coming their way.”
Miles watched the man attempt to get a hold of his suit zip with fingers that now looked like raw sausages. When he did achieve his task, Edgar released an audible sigh as he pulled down the zip. Miles turned away as thick cords of compressed vivid purple flesh burst out and landed on the table with a wet smack.
“There are seventy one more of what I’m about to become spread out in a three mile radius, they are all busy hunting down the remaining two hundred and eleven humans.” Edgar gasped, “Oh Dear Lord, both the crèches have gone.”
Miles shook his head, “That’s impossible. They’re well defended and besides, we would have heard about it.”
“On that piece of junk? Two tin cans tied to a piece of string would be more effective than that.”
“You’re lying.”
“Suit yourself. Two more humans have just died by the way. Look, if you stay in Leeds, you’ll be dead in a few days. You need to get into the countryside, you’ll be safer there.”
He laughed, “What’s the bloody point?”
“In another couple of weeks, every single one of those things will keel over and die and that includes me if you don’t have the balls to kill me now. They’ll all die at exactly the same time because that’s what they’ve been programmed to do.”
Edgar gasped, “Oh Jesus, I’ve only seconds left, be sure you do me good, Miles.”
The vines around the table legs were thickening up, his whole body began to expand. Miles took one step forward and raised the shotgun.
“This wasn’t some freak accident, there was no virus released from some secret lab. We’re about to be invaded, all the generals and decision makers have all gone, and the rest of you are being slaughtered like fucking cattle. When they come, they’ll flow over the land, destroying whatever’s left.”
