The Undead Day Nineteen (23 page)

‘COOKEY?’ Blowers voice screaming from the corridor.

‘COOKEY?’ Nick screaming from somewhere else.

‘FIND COOKEY,’ Howie erupting in fury as he slams his axe into the neck of a male charging into the corridor.

We hold. We are pack.

‘HOLD COOKEY,’ Blowers screams, ‘I’M COMING…DAVE…DAVE…GET TO COOKEY…’

Hold on, little brother. I come.

The energy flows into Charlie who pushes herself into Cookey to wrap her arms round his chest and bring him closer as the tears stream down his face and the blood pisses down his sides from the cuts and bites given so freely into his skin.

‘IN HERE,’ Charlie screams, trying desperately to reach round Cookey to fend the infected man off. ‘GET OFF HIM,’ Charlie screams in frustration, ‘IN HERE…GET OFF HIM,’ she slaps out but is unable to generate power or momentum and still the beast bites deeper, harder, gnashing with teeth that make Cookey tense that much harder.

Clarence storms the room and with one quick grip he flicks the bed away and rushes forward bent to scoop the man biting into Cookey’s bloodied back. He sees the rakes and torn skin and feels rage erupt as he grips the man and lifts him up overhead to slam down onto the floor with a crunch of bones breaking. His feet go to work. Stamping down as Meredith rushes in to latch onto the head which she rags side to side. A quick glance from Clarence and he spots Charlie lying naked under Cookey with her arms wrapped round his body while Cookey’s arm is braced against the wall to keep her protected as he took the beating from behind. A single stride from his long legs and he drops down to rest a hand on the lad’s head.

‘You okay?’

‘Fine,’ Cookey grunts.

‘Good work, get up and get dressed…’

‘Yep,’ Cookey grunts again.

‘Charlie, I’ll leave him with you,’ Clarence winks at her and is gone, striding from the room.

‘COOKEY?’ Blowers shouts again, closer this time, others in the group still shouting Cookey’s name.

‘THEY’RE FINE,’ Clarence shouts back as he re-joins the chaos.

The wet heat is intense. Charlie heaving for air beneath him. Cookey’s chest rising and falling as he swallows the pain.

‘You okay?’ Charlie whispers, sensing the tension still in Cookey’s body and seeing his eyes and jaw clamped shut.

‘Yep,’ Cookey says tightly, hissing the word out and waiting for the pain to pass. His back feels like he’s been whipped and stabbed. Burning heat from the bites and stinging heat from the nails that sliced through his skin. The pain is immense. That final surge of power and the fucker bit down hard right into the dense muscles on his upper back. Just wait. The pain goes. Just wait.

She holds still, staring up at the contours of his face. All humour in him is gone and in its place is a hard man bracing silent and brooding as he swallows the pain inflicted from using his body to protect hers.

Fuck it hurts
.
Fuck it hurts
. Searing heat in his back that radiates out but his eyes open and stare down into the soft brown eyes of Charlie. He sees a beautiful woman that is naked beneath him and he knows he must get up and move away to protect her dignity. She sees the blue eyes of a killer and is mesmerised by the change in him. He is a man, not a boy. Her arms still wrapped round his body and she slowly eases the tightness of the embrace to let her hands glide gently over the rigid muscles either side of his spine. She feels the torn flesh and winces as he grunts softly.

‘I am so sorry,’ she whispers quickly.

‘It’s fine,’ he breathes out, closing his eyes again as he feels her fingers move so gently up his back.

‘Cookey,’ she breathes, feeling the cuts and then the bite mark with clear indents made by the teeth.

A rush of emotion and her hands find the back of his head that she gently pulls down to kiss his cheek just millimetres from the corner of his mouth, ‘thank you.’

He breathes out, feeling the warmth of her breath on his lips and suddenly the pain in his back is not the most central thing in his mind. His hand comes up to brush delicately down her cheek and his heart, easing down as the adrenalin of the fight drops off now picks back up and she feels it thrumming through his chest.

His eyes open to see hers staring intently at him. He blinks but she doesn’t. All the noise of the fight going on outside the room fades to nothing for there is nothing other than this second. Her hands still pushed through the wet hair on the back of his head. Her arms streaked with blood from his back. Her body glistening from water, sweat and blood. His own now softening as the tension from the pain eases and his mouth so close to hers but the moment snaps to a sudden end as the gunshots in the corridor bring back the reality of where they are.

‘Hockey sticks?’ Cookey asks, his blue eyes now twinkling with humour and he smiles that infectious grin.

A fleeting show of confusion in her eyes that linger on his and it takes a full second for her to smile back at him, ‘yes,’ she says softly, still looking at him as though searching for something that was just there.

‘Awesome,’ Cookey grins, ‘er…better get up then before someone comes in.’

‘Yes,’ she says softly.

‘I’ll get the cover for you…don’t look at my bum now.’

‘Okay,’ she says with a smile twitching the corners of her mouth.

He goes to move then comes back and she stiffens, her eyes finding his to stare intently, almost expectantly.

‘Um…’ he pauses, hesitating and looking unsure, ‘I wasn’t being a perve when I said you were perfect.’

She blinks and releases the breath she didn’t know she was holding, ‘okay…’

‘I mean like, you know, you are but…I didn’t it mean like a weirdo or anything.’

‘It’s fine,’ she smiles up, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, ‘it was a nice compliment.’

‘Cool,’ Cookey says, grinning but his eyes show something other than humour, like an urge, a trepidation and a thought crossing his mind to do something and she spots as his gaze flicks to her mouth then back to her eyes. ‘Fuck it,’ Cookey mutters and lifts up to twist quickly and pull the cover from the bed that he tugs down and round to give to Charlie behind him.

‘Thanks,’ she says, looking at his back as he lifts up and seeing the cuts stretching down the length and the open skin of the bite given. He goes quickly. Rising to his feet and with him facing away she doesn’t avert her eyes but watches his backside as he grabs a towel from the floor and runs out into the corridor.

‘Where the fuck have you been?’ Blowers runs to him.

‘Killing zombies fucktard,’ Cookey quips back, ‘what happened then?’

‘Fuck knows but we lost about six or seven…’

‘Eight,’ Paula shouts from somewhere.

‘And that bloke is dead.’

‘Eight?’ Cookey says, stunned at the news, ‘what bloke? Which one?’

‘Neal, the scientist…he’s dead.’

Seventeen

The same as last night. The same manic rush of forcing panicking people to go in a direction they don’t want to move.

‘Outside…everyone outside…quickly now,’ I stand in the corridor urging them out as I spot Cookey running from a room with a towel held round his waist and his back covered in blood, ‘Cookey…you alright?’

‘Fine, boss,’ he turns from Blowers to shout up the corridor.

‘Get dressed, we’re moving out.’

‘On it.’

‘Where’s Charlie?’ Marcy calls out pushing up the corridor to the room she was sharing, ‘Charlie…you okay?’ she stands in the doorway and shouts down to me, ‘they had one in here too.’

I don’t know what just happened. The last few minutes have been utter carnage filled with chaos and a large dollop of confusion mixed in for good measure. One minute I was outside talking to the lads and the next we’re fighting the infected in a hotel that was meant to be safe. How did they get in? Where from? The exits are all locked. The only way in is through the door which has been protected the whole time.

Eight dead. Eight of the people we saved last night killed and the scientist Neal killed in a room surrounded by armed people. What the fuck?

‘Outside, come on…quickly now…’ I urge and shout for them to move and they stream out with terror once again in their eyes. Clarence stands at the end in the reception guiding them to go outside to Dave, Mo and Roy standing guard. Blowers, Nick and Blinky running room to room urging everyone to get up, get moving and get out. Paula and Marcy somewhere in the midst of the mess.

I go with the flow down to the reception, my assault rifle held ready in my hands. My pistol in the holster and my axe now tucked down between my back and my bag.

‘Go outside,’ Clarence says to a woman shaking her head and holding the hand of a young girl.

‘Not a chance,’ the woman says firmly, ‘we’re staying right here by you.’

‘What happened? How did they get in?’

‘Is Anthony dead?’

Voices ask questions but get ushered on and I follow the lines outside to see Paula taking over as she gets them out and away from the building on the edge of the grass.

‘Just stay still, everyone stay still,’ Paula calls out.

‘We’re going to check everyone,’ Marcy works with her, running from the doors to the grass, ‘over to the others, go quickly, stay together…’

‘Where’s Meredith?’ Paula shouts at me.

‘In here,’ Clarence shouts out through the doors.

‘We need to check these people,’ Paula strides towards me with a mixture of worry and anger flushed on her face, ‘what happened? Where did they get in?’

‘No idea,’ I say darkly, ‘check the eyes…check for bites, scratches…’

The last few trickle down, urged on by Blowers, Nick and Blinky snapping at their heels to get outside into the daylight to be seen properly.

I go back in and share a glance with Clarence, both of us shaking our heads. ‘You need to go outside,’ I say to the woman holding the child’s hand.

‘No way,’ she says, shaking her head at me, ‘we’re staying by him…’

‘Just go outside,’ I urge, wanting to snap and only holding myself back because of the little girl with wet hair staring up at me.

‘I said no,’ the woman says through gritted teeth and I notice the hand holding the hilt of a knife tucked in her belt. Clarence is huge and now armed to the teeth. She is a mother of a child scared and terrified so I let it go and breathe the tension out.

‘What’s your name?’ I ask.

‘Jane,’ she replies, locking eyes on me, ‘this is Clara.’

‘Okay, Clarence? You okay if Jane and Clara stay by you?’

‘Fine with me, Boss,’ he says, smiling down at the little girl, ‘but you see that small man outside?’ He says to Jane, ‘his name is Dave…he is far more dangerous than…’

‘I don’t care,’ Jane says, staring up at him, ‘we’re staying by you.’

‘Fine with me,’ Clarence says easily.

‘Mr Howie?’ Charlie rushes from her room now dressed with her bag pulled on and holding the rifle ready. ‘What happened?’

‘No idea,’ I say, taking a step towards her, ‘you okay?’

‘Fine, Cookey’s back is bad…’

‘Bad?’

‘He got bit and scratched. Really badly,’ she says lowering her voice as she comes to a stop in front of me.

‘Cookey?’ I call out.

‘Just coming,’ he shouts out and appears in the doorway dumping his bag to fix the straps and buckles, ‘sorry…just coming…’

‘Did you hurt your back?’ I ask.

‘Nah, it’s nothing,’ he says, hefting the bag up to push his arms through the straps. ‘It’ll be fine.’

‘How bad is it?’ I ask Charlie.

‘He got raked by nails and bit…the skins cut open…’

‘Howie? They’re all out,’ Paula calls ahead as she rushes into the reception, ‘Charlie, you okay, love?’

‘I’m fine,’ Charlie says quickly, ‘do you know how they got in?’

‘Nope,’ Paula mutters, ‘not a bloody clue. Where’s Reggie?’

‘In there,’ Clarence says, nodding at the main room.

‘Cookey, Charlie, outside with Blowers. Cookey, if your back is bad just say, okay mate?’

‘Will do, Mr Howie,’ he nods, racking the bolt back on his rifle and I spot the look of concern Charlie gives him.

‘Paula, Clarence with me…actually, Charlie, you too.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes you. Cookey, send Dave and Mo inside…I want this hotel searched…’

‘Is there any point?’ Paula asks, ‘we’re moving out.’

‘I want to know how they got in,’ I say quickly. ‘Hang on, Reggie?’ I shout through the doors to Reginald gathering items from the floor.

‘I’m here, Mr Howie,’ he shouts back.

‘I know where you are, what are you doing?’

‘Getting Neal’s papers and books,’ he says standing up to shake his head sadly, ‘this is a terrible event, really terrible…’

I stride in with Clarence and Charlie while Paula points at Jane and Clara.

‘Who are they? You should be outside,’ Paula says, her tone softening.

‘No, I’m staying with…’ Jane goes to say.

‘They’re staying near me,’ Clarence says, his eyes passing a message to Paula who pauses, stares down at Clara then at Jane and nods.

‘Reggie, we’re moving out,’ I say, staring down at the ruined corpses of Neal and the other bloke who I think was called Anthony.

‘Indeed, I gathered we would be,’ Reginald says, rushing to the table to grab a coffee stained and soaked book from the top.

‘Kyle? Where’s Kyle?’

‘In here,’ he shouts from the kitchen.

‘What the fuck is he doing in there? KYLE?’

‘It’s been checked,’ Paula says quickly.

‘I don’t care, KYLE, get out and go outside with the others…we don’t where they got in. I want everyone outside until Dave and Mo have done a full sweep.’

‘Howie,’ Paula says with that tone that tells me she is getting cross, ‘what’s the point? We’re leaving straight away.’

‘I want to know how they got in, Charlie, Reggie? Any ideas?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Reginald balks.

‘Work it out, go with Dave and Mo…’ I stride off towards the main doors, ‘everyone else outside.’

‘Mr Howie,’ Reginald says rushing after me, ‘I don’t think this is something…’

‘DAVE!’

‘Here, Mr Howie,’ he runs in with Mo at his side.

‘Cookey tell you the plan?’

‘Yes, Mr Howie.’

‘Go with Reginald and Charlie, find where they got in…’

‘Mr Howie,’ Reginald protests, ‘I do not understand how I am to…’

‘You and Charlie are more intelligent than the rest of us put together. Go with Dave and Mo and find how they…’

‘I really do not see…’

‘DO NOT ARGUE WITH ME.’

He flinches back, blinking rapidly as Charlie reaches out to put a hand on his arm, ‘we’ll do it, Mr Howie.’

‘Good,’ I turn back to Dave, ‘full sweep…NICK? ROY?’

‘Out here,’ Nick walks into view of the doors.

‘Once they’re done I want this hotel burnt to the fucking ground,’ I say, striding outside to see everyone gathered on the grass.

‘On it,’ Nick says, ‘Roy, you hear that?’

‘I think everyone heard that,’ Roy says, holding his bow with an arrow nocked and ready.

‘Don’t be smart, Roy,’ Blowers snaps.

‘Do not tell me what to do,’ Roy snaps back.

‘Enough,’ Paula calls out, ‘Howie, what exactly is the point in all this?’

I stop and glower round as every other voice falls to silence, ‘we’re not leaving here until we know what just happened…we cannot risk taking an infected person into the fort.’

A lightbulb pings behind her eyes and she nods with understanding, ‘you think one of them?’ She asks, looking at me but tilting her head to the people stood nearby.

I shrug, ‘I don’t know but we ain’t risking anything.’

‘Okay,’ Marcy calls out, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention, ‘I need you to listen to me for a second,’ she says, sweeping her eyes over the crowd. ‘The hotel was secure. There was no way they could have got inside. Everyone check the people you know and recognise. Is there anyone here that shouldn’t be here? Anyone you don’t know? Does anyone look different…CALM DOWN,’ she shouts to get heard over the voices clamouring as they all start peering suspiciously at each other.

‘Who got bit?’ Paula asks, as though to prompt Marcy.

‘Listen in,’ Marcy shouts, moving closer to the middle of the group, ‘who was bit first? Who did you see first?’

‘That big fucker,’ Blinky calls out, ‘in the main room…’

‘Anthony?’ someone shouts, ‘big bloke yeah?’

‘Yeah, broad shoulders…brown hair,’ Marcy replies, ‘do you know him?’

‘We all knew him,’ someone else says, ‘Anthony was soft as anything…he wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

‘He was with Terry…Terry was bit too weren’t he?’

‘Yeah, that lad there killed him,’ a woman says, pointing at Nick.

‘So Anthony and Terry were in the same room?’ Marcy asks, ‘just those or…’

‘They had Neville and Gordon in with them didn’t they?’

‘Neville was bit.’

‘Gordon was….I saw his eyes.’

‘Nev got in Sarah’s room with her kids.’

‘Gordo lost his wife last week, he wouldn’t do nothing…’

‘Let me get this right,’ Marcy calls out, waving her hand at the people, ‘Anthony was the big man…he was in a room with three other men? Is that right?’

‘Think so,’ a woman nods while staring round.

‘Terry got Pete though, I saw it,’ someone else says.

‘Gordo was fine, I spoke to him before he went to bed,’ a man calls out.

‘Did you see his eyes?’ I ask.

‘Yeah, they were normal.’

‘What about the other three men…that Anthony? Anyone see his eyes last night?’

‘We checked them all,’ Paula says heavily, ‘I did it myself when they came in.’

‘We only need to miss one,’ I say.

‘We didn’t,’ Paula replies, ‘every single one of us knows what to look for, Howie. Not one of these people had bloodshot eyes last night and anyway…Meredith would have reacted.’

‘What room was Anthony and the others in?’ Marcy calls out.

‘Er…next to us, we were in eleven so..er they were closer to the reception end so it must be ten I think.’

‘Room ten,’ I nod and head back to the reception to see Dave leading the others from the kitchen back into the main room, ‘anything?’ I ask.

‘No, Mr Howie,’ Dave says, ‘every exit is locked. Windows are locked. There are no points of entry.’

‘We’ll check room ten. That big bloke,’ I point at Anthony’s corpse, ‘was in room ten with three other blokes that were all infected.’

‘We should check each room,’ Dave says as blunt as ever.

‘You and Mo room to room, Charlie and Reggie come with me to room ten.’

‘I really do not understand what it is you require us to do,’ Reginald huffs as we head up the now blood stained and body littered corridor, ‘I am not a detective and I do not think Charlie has a background in forensic examination either…really, Mr Howie, there is a limit to the skills you think we may have.’

‘Yep,’ I say as a way of replying. Dave and Mo go into the first room as we head up going past the now open hotel room doors, ‘they got in here somehow and we need to know. We can’t take those people to the fort or anywhere if they…’

‘Yes yes I completely understand the reasons for wishing to know,’ Reginald says, breathing hard as he walks fast, ‘but be that as it may I do not know how
we
are to know.’

‘Dunno,’ I say and stop outside the open door to room ten, ‘all we can do is try.’ I go in first and stare about as if expecting to see a broken window or a hole in the floor to a tunnel or a rope ladder hanging from the ceiling. But the window is intact, shut and locked from the inside. The floor has no tunnels and there is a distinct lack of rope ladders dangling from the ceiling. Charlie stands next to me, staring round slowly. Reginald walks straight to the window and pushes the pane then the frame.