This is part 2 of Phillip’s chapter, the first part is concluded with Phillip and Isaac’s sister, Sam, at the foot of the building that will later be their home with several undead sprawled out at the foot of the steps.
The final line from last part was:
“Philip, I can buzz their apartment.” Sam pointed out.
I turned to face our adversaries and Sam pressed the intercom button.
The first comer got a kick in the face, its nose made a satisfying crunching sound as my boot shattered it.
“Hello?” A voice sounded out from the speaker.
The second attacker staggered over the first zombie as it rolled down the steps, I grabbed the outstretched arms then lifted my foot and pistoned it into the creature's chest sending it spinning down and straight into the other two that were just making it up onto the stairs.
'Take that you shitter', I smirked to myself, this was the best fun I'd had all week.
“Dan? It's Sam, Isaac's sister. Can you let us in?”
The third got too close. I had enough time to think that this would hurt me more than it would hurt this cunt. Then I broke the bottle of Bourbon over its head. It went down properly, a shard of glass lodged in the side of its head. Another tried to get around its falling comrade so I stabbed it in the face with the remnants of the bottle into its face and that seemed to be enough to take it down.
A buzz went then I heard Sam push the door open.
I pulled back not taking my eye off our pursuers, two of them had got back up, which left three sprawled pathetically below, two them were most definitely not getting up.
The fast, fat ones were pretty close but not close enough to clear the distance between us. I practically bounced into the building before closing the door.
I could feel a big grin growing on my face as they started to pile up to the door and started leaning against it. We were safe even if only for a bit.
The grin dropped when one of the fast ones took a step back then ran into the pane and smacked its head hard. As it pulled away it smeared blood onto the glass and I could see a small crack sprout from the hit.
“There'll be more soon.” I said to Sam.
“How do you know?”
“Your brother is stoner right?” She nodded. “And he never made you watch Evil Dead, Dawn of the Dead, Zombie Flesh Eaters, or even Return of the Living Dead?”
“Isaac likes Kung Fu movies.”
“So Sam Raimi, George Romero, Danny Boyle, fuck, Simon Pegg mean nothing to you?” I asked disbelievingly.
“The one who directed Trainspotting?” She suggested helpfully.
“They've remade both of the first two Romero classics. The last one only came out last year. Come on 'When there's no more room in hell...'” I trailed off as I saw the blank look she was giving me. Her skin had turned porcelain white and her eyes were bugging out, which made me regret my rant so I changed the subject.
“Which level do we want?”
“Top.” She responded.
I glanced at the entrance; there were now a dozen undead pawing at the glass. The door itself didn't look that reliable, unheard of in the paranoid United Kingdom. The flimsy metal frame didn't look like it would take too much pressure.
We headed for the stairwell. Sam started to run up the carpeted steps. I vaguely heard a muffled shout from the ground floor: 'I'm calling the police!'
We cleared the first landing with ease, Sam setting the pace, me just cruising behind her.
Some guy came out of his flat as we got to the second floor. He wasn't wearing a suit, but he struck me as the suit type, the ones who work in middle management and suck corporate cock in London for hundreds of thousands of pounds. Yet somehow, have no value as human beings.
“Who are you?” He demanded, looking really gay in his kimono. “What is it with all the noise?”
“Haven't you heard?” I said over my shoulder as I clomped my boots up the padded surface. “It's the end of the fucking world.”
I'd always wanted to say that.
Waiting at the door of the flat was a kiddie, maybe a few inches shorter than me, maybe 5'10”, 5’11”, with long greasy, blond hair. His eyes were glazed and he had a half smile on his face.
“Hey sis.” He said, extending a hand.
Sam reached him and gave him a hug. It lasted longer than a few seconds. I could see that she was gripping him tightly.
“Whoa, what was that for?” He asked, as she pulled away.
“Isaac, shit is seriously fucked up.” I managed to catch her whisper.
He frowned at her.
“I know man, have you seen the news?”
Sam walked inside. Isaac extended his hand to me.
“Isaac, man, and you are?”
I took his hand:
“Philip, I work with Sam.”
“Cool.” Isaac smiled. “Come in.”
I followed him into a large room looking out onto the square; I could just catch a glimpse of the sea as well. There was a double bed directly to my left, looking like the sleeper had only just got out of it. A large sofa dissected the room and faced a big screen television.
On the couch sat two people. One was this skinny, white, Rasta guy. He looked tired and disheveled. He had an uneven beard that looked like it hadn't been shaved in at least a week.
The second was probably one of the most beautiful dreadlocked girls I'd ever seen. She was a bit skinny for my tastes, but apart from that: Gorgeous.
Sam walked around and sat down next to the girl. Her face had gone even whiter and her eyes were as large as saucers.
I found myself standing in the doorway with nowhere to sit.
“Are you alright?” The girl asked Sam, turning her mane; I noticed that she had an undercut of sorts beneath her blond locks.
Sam shook her head. I could see she was about to cry.
“Oh, sweetie.” The dread locked girl said hugging the younger girl.
Isaac introduced me to Dan and Jo. I said 'hi', suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
All three strangers looked at me expectantly. Finally Jo spoke:
“What's going on?”
This made me hesitate, when we had been out in the middle of it, I hadn't had any doubts on what was going on. There had been no time to think, and now that I was here and safe. The moment's pause made me realise how completely stupid the scenario appeared.
As I searched for a way to say it I started catching what was on the television.
“...if you are in any of the following cities or towns, please remain calm. Lock your doors, or if you are not at home, find somewhere safe. Do not answer your door to anyone you do not know.
“The police are currently been mobilised, with the aid of the Territorial Army. And we have been asked that you do not call the emergency lines.
“The authorities know what is going on.
“Above all remain calm and compliant with the law...”
I looked at the screen, at the stoic reporter holding his pieces of paper. Talking shit, fed to him by some other idiot, just like in the films.
I was silent, trying to think how best to phrase what I was about to say, because it was all true. As fucked up as it was, the dead had risen and were killing people.
It was true, and Caryn and Denny were out there somewhere.
I could see the front of the building in my head, there were bound to be more at the front now, clawing away at the door, pushing it. And they would get through eventually.
“Shit, does anyone have a phone I could borrow?” I asked looking at them all.
The Rasta kid lobbed me his mobile. I snatched and dialed Caryn's home number.
The phone rang two or three times and then she answered.
“Is that you Philip?”
“Yeah, look-
“You didn't go out drinking and 'accidentally' forget we were meant to be having a dinner party?” She said, her tone coated in sarcasm.
“Shit, yeah, I forgot.” I said, cursing inwardly. “Listen-
“What now?”
“Is Denny there?”
“Yeah,” she said, curiously. “Why, do you want to talk to him?”
“Good.” I sighed with relief. “Lock your door, turn on the telly. When you've done that don't answer the door unless it's me.”
“What's going on?” She sounded worried now.
“Just lock the door and trust me.” I said firmly.
“What about the other guests?”
“How were they getting to your house?” I asked. “Were they coming by car?”
“No-
I was distracted by Dan:
“Sorry, are you going to be much longer, you see I'm a bit low on-
I flipped him the finger. Trying to have two conversations at once was not one of my strong points. He looked a little stunned and sat back down again. Meanwhile I'd missed whatever Caryn had been saying. She was mumbling something, or other.
“Look, can you shut up and listen?” I shouted, never having been good with patience either. “If they walked and they're not there yet. They're either dead or at home.”
I got no response from the other end. I looked around at my companions, realising I sounded a little harsh. I could see Sam's shoulders shaking in Jo's embrace. Jo was looking at me with these wide-eyes that under other circumstances must have melted hearts.
“Philip,” Caryn’s voice came across from the other line very quietly. “You are starting to scare me.”
I snapped back to the conversation and chose my words.
“I know, and I'm sorry. Just promise me that you and Denny will stay put until I get there.” I sighed, my voice calmer. “And don't answer the door unless it's me.”
“I promise.”
“Look I'll be there soon, but if anything happens.” I hesitated, looking around the room uncomfortably, then as quietly as I could muster. “I, I love you.”
“Philip.” It was her turn to fumble with words.
I didn't wait any longer and just hung up. Wondering how the fuck I was going to get to her house.
I handed Dan the mobile.
“Sorry about that, mate, I just got a little stressed.” I said putting on one of my fake, reassuring smiles. Don't know if they really work actually.
“It's okay.” He said, casually. “I get it a lot”
I addressed them all. Isaac was sitting on the arm of the settee, stroking his sister's back consolingly.
“This is going to sound like a piss take. But,” I took a deep breath. “Brighton is going to be completely overrun by zombies. In fact there's probably a score of them downstairs right now.”
Jo looked at me, an uncomprehending smile growing slowly on her face, Isaac frowned uttered a nervous laugh. Dan was different, he looked at me impassively. I wasn't sure what to make of the expression.
“It's true.” Came a muffled voice. Sam pulled away from Jo, wiping her eyes and sniffing a little. “Maybe it's not zombies, but there something really bad out there.”
“Whoa.”
I turned around to see the owner of this new voice. A man, probably a couple of inches taller than me, stood in the doorway. With his shaved head he looked like a football hooligan.
“Did someone say zombie?” He said, stumbling into the room, his head movements were erratic and didn't seem to actually acknowledge that anyone was there. Like his eyes were looking straight through us all. “I feel like one.”
“That's my mate Rich.” Isaac said to me.
I just nodded.
“How long was I out for?” He asked, still not focusing on his surroundings.
“Not long,” Jo replied, “about a day.”
“Shiit.” He said, rolling the 'i'. He sat down on the floor. “Did I miss much?”
The whole room turned as a door slammed and someone started shouting on the landing.
I walked into the hallway and someone followed me. I guessed it was Dan, I couldn't imagine Sam would want to move, and the rest of them all seemed pretty wasted.
The shouting increased in volume, and I could make out that it belonged to a female.
“That's definitely the couple across from us.” Dan said, confirming my suspicions.
“I want to go out and check, see if any of those bastards have managed to break in.” I said. “Do you have a decent sized knife? Two, if you are willing to back me up.”
Dan walked away from me; I went up to the little peephole. I could see a woman trying to carry a man out of the other flat. There was no sign of the Deadites.
Dan came back with a chopping knife and a huge meat cleaver. He handed me the cleaver.
“Look, I don't know if you believe me.” I said, the woman was shouting even louder. “But if you see a zombie, aim for the head.”
“Well,” Dan said casually. “Either it's true or you're a murderer.”
I frowned as I opened the door slowly. Wondering how he was certain I'd killed people.
“I don't think anyone noticed, but you have blood on your boots and trousers, as well as a few flecks on your sleeves.” Dan said answering my thoughts.
I smiled; I liked the observation and the fact that he trusted me enough to give me a weapon.
I opened the door.
The woman, late twenties, dark brown hair, slightly round face; saw us and immediately calmed down.
“Oh thank God you are in.” She gushed. “I need your help.”
I lowered my weapon, which she didn't seem to notice I held. The guy on the floor by her side was also in his late twenties, short cropped hair, looked like he kept himself in pretty good shape. His face had turned an ashen white, but I couldn't see any obvious cuts or bite marks.
At the same time I tried to rationalise, if he had been bitten, where were the zombies?
“Hello Jean.” Dan replied. “Is Dick alright?”
“He was fine yesterday then he started coming down with that virus. You know the one on the news. Well, I think it's that one.” She blurted, almost too quickly to understand. “We were going to go to the doctor's tomorrow. You've got to help me.”
Dan brushed past me and went to the prone man.
I watched him take Dick's pulse; he looked at Jean then me:
“His heart's not beating.”
Jean's eyes widened.
Dan leaned down, and started to perform mouth to mouth.
I took a few steps forward so I was standing over the two of them.
Mr. Suit came up the stairs, he looked like he was about to say something until he saw what I was holding. The chopper made him run back down, it made me happy to see the fucker scared shitless.
I looked back at Dan who was desperately pumping on the man's chest.
That was when it all clicked.
“Dan.” I tapped him on the shoulder, but he ignored me.
I repeated myself, but he continued his ministrations.
I dropped my weapon then in one fluid motion; well it felt fluid, wrapped my arm around his waist and yanked him away.
He was, maybe, five or six inches shorter than me and surprisingly light. So he hit the wall a little harder than I'd intended.
He looked at me then looked around; I guessed it was for the knife he had been carrying. I spied it next to Dick's body and snatched it up.
Very conscious of having my back to the body, I forced myself to ignore it and look at Dan. I almost laughed when I saw him with his fists clenched. I raised my hand, chopper still in it, so it probably looked more threatening than it was supposed to.
“Dan, I'm not a murderer.” I said slowly. “If I was, would I do this?”
I offered him the blade back, hilt first.
“What are you doing?” Dan asked.
“Okay,” I started; I could hear Jean clumsily trying to resuscitate her partner. “This is going to sound crazy.”
I glanced at the door to the flat; Jo, Rich and Isaac were all standing there.
“Dick is a zombie.” I saw Dan getting ready to make some kind of move. So I hastily added. “Well at least he will be-
“It's a miracle.” I heard Jean say. My blood ran cold.
I turned around again.
Dick was sitting up, and Jean immediately trapped him in an embrace.
Then he took a chunk out of her cheek. She screamed in pain and scrambled back, blood bathing one side of her face.
He moved and pounced on her and she screamed again. He moved like the other fast ones I'd seen, more '28 days later' than 'Night of the living Dead'.
I took the three steps to the couple; in that time Jean's cries had turned to gurgles. From my new vantage point I could see that her throat was just rags of flesh.
Dick whipped its head around, a mouthful of blood and meat drooling down its chin. It came at me rapidly. Not quick enough to avoid my kick to the chest that sent it down the steps to the next plateau.
Without even looking over my shoulder, I told Dan to take care of Jean. Dick was starting to get up as I hurried down. The fucker was fast, it launched itself at me. I was ready and took the top of its head off with one well-placed blow.
It went down, blood spurting like a geyser from its skull.
I returned to Dan, he was standing over Jean, his knife embedded in her forehead.
“Well done.” I smiled grimly. “Thought I was going to have to do it as well.”
Dan looked at me. He had the same look on his face as when we had been in the living room. We eyeballed each other for a few seconds. I couldn't really figure out what he was going to do next.
“What now?” He asked. It seemed that he didn't know either.
“Well, you can take the knife out now. It isn't a vampire. If you kill them they stay dead.”
“How can you be certain?”
I shrugged.
“Take it out and see what happens. If Jean moves, stab her again.”
Dan carefully pulled the knife out. It didn't move.
“George is the fucking Nostradamus of the twentieth century.” I yelled my grin widening.
“Who?” Dan looked confused. “Is he a friend of yours?”
I shook my head, smiling to myself, of all the groups of stoners I could bump into, I met the only ones who didn't know zombie flicks like the back of their hand.
Isaac was standing at the doorway. I couldn't see Jo or Rich, but I could hear someone vomiting.
“Do you believe me now?” I asked Dan.
“Yes, I believe you. Does this mean we're in deep trouble?” He looked me straight in the eye. “That was a rhetorical question.”
“I broke a bottle of whiskey on the way here.” I wiped the blood off on my trouser leg. “I don't suppose you have any booze I could have before I figure out how the fuck I'm going to get to Hove?”
“I've got a car, and we have-
Dan stopped as shouts and screams came from the bottom of the stairwell.
The two of us exchanged glances again. Dan shouted to his friends at the door:
“Isaac are you stoned?”
“I'm alright man.” Isaac responded.
“Be honest, I don't want you coming with us unless you are okay.” Dan said.
“Um...”
“Barricade the door behind me and Philip.” Dan ordered. “Look after the flat.”
I rifled through Jean's pockets and found her house keys. I tossed them at the boy.
“Lock her door as well. It could come in handy later.” I said. “Remember, they can't talk. No answer means no real people.”
Isaac nodded. I could hear growls mixing with the startled yelps.
I could hear Isaac locking the door to the other apartment as Dan and I descended.
When we got to the second floor, someone came running up towards us. It was bizarre the way we changed stance, like we were both ready for a ruck.
I relaxed slightly as I saw Mr. Suit in his stupid fucking robe. He was gripping his elbow.
He pushed past us without saying a word, he was panting as if not used to this much exertion.
“Tricia! Tricia!” He started hammering on one of the doors; I didn't bother to watch him. “Tricia! The police have gone crazy!”
“If I remember rightly,” Dan said to me, “once you are bitten, even if it isn't fatal, you are supposed to turn into a zombie.”
He looked at me.
“That's right isn't it?”
I nodded. The noise from the ground floor was getting closer.
“Of course that is only in the films, right?”
I shrugged again, thinking 'that suit-and-tie shit is so dead'.
I spotted shadows on the first floor, lit by some crap ambient lighting.
Mr. Suit was trying to convince his partner, wife, fuck buddy, whatever; to let him in. I could feel adrenalin making my legs shake. I was thinking about what I'd said to Caryn, whether she felt the same.
“What's the plan?” Dan asked.
“Well, I was going to wing it up until we got to the car; from there I was going to think of a plan.” I responded, noticing that amongst the shadows there was one that was a lot faster. “Give me a little more time and I might figure something out.”
I found myself grinning, I couldn't figure out why. Especially as it looked like I was going to die in less than five minutes' time.
“Fuck it, Philip, winging it is good.” Dan laughed.
“Fuck it, indeed.” I grinned.
This was going to be fucking mental.
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