Part 30 (1/2)

The undead.

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he made his final paces towards that emergency exit. He looked down at Kesha. She was wailing, pretty d.a.m.ned loud. Part of Mattius wanted to rea.s.sure her and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

But another part of him wanted to put his hand over her mouth and quieten her once and for all.

What did that make him?

Did it make him the monster Riley claimed he was all along?

He reached the fire escape and pushed the handle.

The door didn't budge.

A nauseating sensation pounded through his body. He tried the door again, but still it wouldn't budge. Someone had locked it. He didn't know why, but they had.

And because they'd locked it, Mattius was trapped.

He heard groans behind him. He didn't want to look back, but much like when you see a ”No Entry” sign, the first thing you have to do right away is wander on in.

He looked over his shoulder.

When he saw the crowd-and it was a crowd, make no mistake about that-of infected heading his way, Mattius didn't know how to feel. He could try to hold them off, but he wouldn't be able to keep all of them away. There were way too many of them for that.

Kesha's cries grew louder.

”Be quiet, now,” Mattius said, trying to sound as rea.s.suring as possible.

It was hard to be rea.s.suring when the undead were literally filling the corridor to the brim. In fact, it was so full that some of the undead were being pushed up against the walls, the anti-life squeezed out of them, crushed under the weight of the collective crowd.

Kesha's cries got even louder.

Mattius took a step back and pressed against that fire escape once again. But still, it wasn't moving.

Undead ahead of him.

A locked door behind him.

A fire roaring above him.

Kesha in his arms.

He couldn't stay here. He had to think. Fast.

He looked to his right and saw a partly ajar door to a hotel room.

Then he looked back at the zombies. They were just ten metres or so away now, the smell of rot filling Mattius' nostrils.

”Please let this work out,” Mattius whispered under his breath. He knew going into that room would be a gamble. There was a good chance he'd fail to find a way out. The window could be locked, or he might not fit through it, or the zombies might get to him before he even had the chance to escape.

But still he had to try.

”Please work out.”

The zombies were just five metres away.

Mattius held his breath.

He stepped away from the door and he ran into the room, Kesha bundled in his arms.

He felt the sharp fingertips of the infected scratch at him, trying to tear the coat off his back as he ran into that room. He slammed the door shut, pressed himself against it, then realised he didn't have much time to sit around. He had to get to the window and he had to get out of here.

But he wasn't alone.

”Mattius? Is that you?”

Mervin was sitting at the opposite side of the room. He was an old man, with bushy eyebrows and a wispy beard. He was going senile. But he was no harm to anyone. In fact, most of Mattius' group liked having Mervin around. He might be going bats.h.i.+t crazy, but he was good for a game of chess against.

”Mervin,” Mattius said, trying to keep the composure to his voice. ”We have to-”

”Come on in, fella,” Mervin said, standing from the edge of his twin bed and smiling. ”Got some decent whisky 'ere for you to try.”

Mattius heard the bang against the door then, and it forced him to his feet. He hurried over to the window as the door banged some more, as the wood warped and started to split under the weight.

”Someone else here to join us?” Mervin asked.

”No,” Mattius shouted as he unclipped the window from its latches. ”There's...”

Then he had a thought. A horrible thought. One he wasn't proud of.

”Actually, yeah,” Mattius said. ”It's a few of the lads. I told them to get down here for some of that whisky of yours. The expensive stuff.”

Mattius saw the smile creep up Mervin's face and he couldn't help feeling so, so guilty for what he was doing. ”Then I'd better go let 'um in then, hadn't I?”

He whistled as he wandered towards that door, not even noticing the changing shape of the woods, the roaring groan of the creatures.

Mattius wanted to tell Mervin to turn around. He wanted to tell him to come with him. But in the end, all he could say was: ”I'm sorry.”

Mervin turned around and frowned, his hand on the door handle. ”Sorry for wh-”

The door split apart.

Mattius saw the first zombie wrap its teeth around Mervin's neck and tear a chunk of his flesh out.

He saw blood splatter up Mervin's face, covering his gla.s.ses.

But before those gla.s.ses were covered, it was the look in Mervin's eyes that stayed with him more than anything.