Walking the Border
Author: Ian Crofton
Date: 2015-07-16 19:01:06+00:00
Keywords: Horror; Fiction; Zombies
Description: In this book Ian Crofton makes a journey on foot from Gretna Green in the southwest to Berwick in the northeast, following as close as possible the Anglo-Scottish Border as it has been fixed since the union of the crowns in 1603. Much of the line of the Border runs through a wild, overwhelmingly unvisited no man's land - the sort of trackless waste perfect for keeping two belligerent peoples apart? During the course of his journey Ian Crofton considers a number of questions how 'natural' are borderlines? Sometimes they follow physical barriers, sometimes an arbitrary line on a map, the comprom
Publisher: Birlinn

Copyright Ian Woodhead June 2011

License Notes:

This ebook may not be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, without the author's written consent.

Cover design by Peter Fussey

A Foreword by Dave Jeffery

Let's get one thing straight: I love zombies. The myth, the literature, the movies, the comic books, you name it I have at some point digested it like some lumbering undead horde chows down on a hapless survivor caught in a cul-de-sac.

Given this admission, some may say that it was perhaps inevitable that I should stumble across the novel The Unwashed Dead by Ian Woodhead, given its rising popularity amongst hardcore zombie fans. In truth, I knew the work of its author before this particular book came to my attention. My first introduction came with the release of Spore, a genuinely creepy gross-fest of a short story released as a free sample on Smashwords. This tale has gone on to have over ten thousand downloads on Amazon Kindle alone. Other works followed; each demonstrating Woodhead's genuine gift for leaving the reader's psyche unsettled for days afterwards.

I read The Unwashed Dead three times in two months, the tale enriching my experience with each outing. The gritty commentary of life and un-death on a Northern Council Estate has remained a favourite ever since. But what raises The Unwashed Dead above that of its peers? It’s a simple matter of heart. The book had it in abundance; an unbridled passion that I saw in many of the fans of the genre - me, especially. We shouldn't like any of Woodhead's characters; they are coarse and self serving, riddled with dysfunction and vanity. Yet like them we do, care for them, hope that all ends well for them though we know, deep down, they will meet an end as brutal as their upbringing.

Want literature that's going to stimulate the cerebellum and win Nobel Peace Prizes? Read Steinbeck. Want work that has been through the commercial mixer and hit the belt bland and bloated? Then don't knock on the door of Mr Woodhead's crypt. But if you want pathos wrapped in greased rags, or the kind of biting social commentary harking back to Romero at his best, then come on in and take a seat and settle down with this, the sequel: Walking With Zombies.

But expect blood, lots of it. And if you're like me and many others, you'll love every single drop.

Dave Jeffery

Author of Necropolis Rising

Walking with Zombies

By Ian Woodhead

Talbot Field decided that his wife would be waking up tomorrow morning in a great deal of pain. He crushed the empty cardboard tube with his beefy hand then launched it at the bathroom door.

“What have I told you about this?” he muttered through gritted teeth, “No more warnings, Christine. This time I really am going to mess up your pretty little face.”

It did occur to him that if he’d have just pulled the light cord upon entering the bathroom, he’d have seen straight away that his bone idle wife hadn’t replaced the toilet paper.

Talbot blindly felt along the tiled shelf to make doubly sure that he hadn’t missed the new toilet roll in his previous search. He then kicked his feet around the lino. The only item of interest he found were a pair of his wife’s underwear. Talbot picked them up and took a tentative sniff. They were clean, well nearly clean. These were the ones he’d bought her last week. The soft silky material gave it away. It wasn’t often he bought her presents. It wasn’t often that he actually liked her, but he saw them in the shop window and knew that he just had to see her wearing them.

Christine hated the colour red. He knew that as the assistant wrapped them, complete with a stupid bow around the package. That didn’t matter though because Talbot wanted to see her filling them, she’d wear them or face the consequences.

He’d forgotten all about them. She certainly hadn’t worn them for his pleasure. Talbot turned them over and gave them another sniff, this time the subtle odour of cream cleaner wafted into his nostrils. Oh the defiant bitch; she’d been using them to clean the fucking bathroom.

“You are so going to pay for this,” he muttered.

He took a deep breath, imagining the look of her shit eating grin fall from her face when he presented the evidence. Talbot then had an epiphany.

“A shit eating grin may be the best lesson,”

Talbot chuckled to himself. He liked the idea. He decided not to punch the bitch after all; he’d make her eat these knickers instead, after he’d wiped his arse on them first. The punishment would fit the crime.

It was about time he showed her where her place was again, even after twelve years of marriage. The stupid cow still had the occasional lapse. He shook his head. Some people never learn.

He used the underwear to clean himself and then carefully folded it up before placing the package next to his feet. Talbot was a little disappointed that he would have to wait for a few hours before he could play his little game. She wasn’t home from work yet, not that being a waitress in some swanky restaurant was a proper job mind, but it was the best she could do with only having limited intelligence.

Talbot was due to go out in a few minutes too. He had an appointment with a certain young man who had fallen behind on the re-payments for his lovely car. He smiled; knowing that at least one person tonight would be kissing his fists.

He pulled up his trousers and hid the package at the bottom of the bathroom bin. He doubted that she’d empty it between the time she arrived home and the time he got back himself. The dirty, lazy bitch never cleaned the house properly anymore.

His balls tightened and he felt the beginnings of an erection at the thought of doing some serious face reshaping on the cocky little bastard who thought that he could piss in the face of Talbot’s employer. Speaking of which, he pulled the light cord, so he could read the time on his watch, he didn’t want to be late.

Talbot laughed aloud when he saw the full roll of toilet paper; it had fallen in the sink. Christine hadn’t been as slack as he initially thought. He turned the handle and padded into the hallway. He still intended to stuff those knickers into her mouth as punishment for using them as a cleaning rag. The bitch needed to learn respect. That underwear had cost him the price of three pints.

Before he went down the stairs, he paused at his eldest son’s bedroom door. He’d caught Brendan smoking, earlier this evening. The stupid boy thought that he wouldn’t be able to smell the smoke if he leaned out of the window. The lad was a moron, just like his mother. He often wondered if the boy was actually his.

Just as he had promised, he’d forced the lad into the dog cage. Talbot put his ear to the door, there was no sound coming from the other side which was a little odd, Brendan hated the cage. The last time Talbot had put him in there, he had howled for nearly twenty minutes. He couldn’t hear anything, not even quiet sobbing.

His internal warning system kicked into action. Something was wrong. He grabbed the handle and pushed open the door then flicked the switch. The naked bulb fitting bathed the room in harsh white light. He saw his first born son on all fours still in the cage just under the window. Talbot immediately noticed the other, smaller cage lying in front on Brendan.

“What the fucking hell have you done?” he shouted.

The occupant of the smaller cage was in Brendan’s left hand. His son slowly looked at his father. An emotion that Talbot hadn’t felt for many years made an unwelcome appearance, it was fear. The only thing he saw in his son’s eyes was his own reflection. The terror that he was so used to seeing had gone. The boy dropped the bloodied remains of his pet hamster and opened his mouth. Talbot turned away, unable to look at those blood stained teeth, his son began to moan and pawed at the cage door.

The key to the padlock was in his top pocket and for the moment it would stay there too. Talbot closed the bedroom door and hurried downstairs, he hadn’t a clue what had happened to Brendan, nor did he really care. The boy had obviously taken something, it looked to Talbot that smoking was only the start of it. He was just glad he’d caught it when he had; if the little bastard was taking drugs then being locked in a cage was the best thing for him.

Fuck knows where the boy’s mind was, probably orbiting the next planet in the solar system, whichever one that was. He grabbed a red marker pen off the window sill at the foot of the stairs and left Christine a short note on the whiteboard that he’d fastened to the wall next to the coat hooks. He ordered the bitch not to disturb Brendan. Talbot knew that she’d leave that door well alone, especially after the last time.

Three weeks ago, he’d left a note of a similar nature before he left for work, but before he did, he sellotaped a single hair across the door and the frame. It didn’t surprise him to find that the hair had been snapped in half upon his return. It did surprise his wife when he confronted her with the evidence. He’ll never forget that stupid look upon her dozy face just before he used her back and chest as a punch bag. Talbot felt his loins stirring again. He opened the front door and stepped out into the cool night air, after he destroyed the lad’s face, he may have to pay a visit to his boss’s place on the other side of town, the Stockholm Club. He always felt the urge to fuck someone after he’d fucked someone up.

That bar maid, the one with the tiny tits had given him the hint that she needed a big man to look after her the last time he’d visited the place. Talbot walked down his garden path and stopped at his car door. She'll do nicely. Talbot liked his girls young.

Chapter two

Marlene Jeffrey gave the front tyre a hard kick. It didn’t help her situation in any way but the sporadic burst of violence made her feel a little better, at least for a couple of seconds. This was so unfair, what the hell was wrong with the damn thing, she’d only had the car for a couple of months. This wasn’t supposed happen to new cars.

Maybe she should just count her blessings and thank the good lord that her pride and joy hadn’t chosen to stop whilst she was in the middle of that rough housing estate. Marlene used the Breakspear estate as a short cut on her way to work. She’d never encountered any trouble in there and despite the rumours, the place had always seemed quiet enough but still, Marlene knew that she shouldn’t take risks. Cutting through Breakspear cut thirty minutes off her journey though and saved her a fortune in petrol.

She bent down and tapped on the glass. Marlene’s passenger looked at her with hopeful eyes. As if somehow her getting out of the car and gazing in confusion at all the incomprehensible components under the bonnet would somehow magically make the car go again.

Thomas Maryland had only just started working at the Stockholm club, this would his third night. Marlene had serious doubts whether he’d still be there this time next week, which was a real shame as she really liked the lad. All the floor staff got on with Thomas, his personable manner and his no nonsense approach to getting the job done was a breath of fresh air, something rare in kids nowadays. It was the chaos he brought with him to every shift that would be his undoing.

Marlene had never considered herself to be all that superstitious, but her opinion didn’t really matter, she wasn’t the one who’d employed him. Their boss, Bernard Crowley was the total opposite, she had seen the man cross himself after Thomas had walked past him. Since he had started, they have had two stabbings, several windows broken, a small fire, a break in and last night the cooker in the kitchen blew up. All the incidents happened whilst Thomas was working.

Marlene opened the passenger door and ushered the lad out. She already knew that Mr. Crowley had looked into the new boy’s work history and found that trouble followed Thomas around like a shadow.

“Are we walking then, Marlene?”

“Looks that way,” she replied. “I’m buggered if I know what’s up with the motor. No worries though, we’re not that far from the club.”

The car worked fine until he got into it. She pushed that dangerous thought to the back of her mind, collected her bag and locked the car. There was nothing wrong with the lad, it was just a bunch of coincidences.

She looked around the high street, her car should be safe here. There were plenty of street lights and the main road was usually busy. Although for some strange reason, tonight was different.

“What time is it?

Marlene glanced at her watch, “It’s just gone seven. Don’t worry, we won’t be late.”

“Oh, it’s not that,” he replied, “I just wondered that’s all.”

She sneaked a glance at the lad, while he was busy watching a man stumble out of a chip shop further along the street. He was rather tall for his age, she already knew that he’d just turned eighteen. Thomas also had the right build to match his height. With those soft facial features, shoulder length, dirty blonde hair and easy going manner, he ought to have a mile long queue of girls demanding his attention.

He told Marlene earlier on that he was still single. She briefly wondered if he was gay.

“Thank you for the lift by the way.”

“You’ve already thanked me twice. Like I said the last time, don’t worry about it.”

She turned away but could still see his eyes giving her own body the once over, Mr. Crowley preferred his waitresses and female bar staff to wear low cut tops. There was probably some law against that but Marlene didn’t really mind. Thomas was certainly getting an eyeful. She mentally shook her head; the lad wasn’t gay, probably just very shy.

She was single herself at the moment, her last boyfriend had dumped her in favour of a newer, younger model. That had really hurt. Marlene was only twenty-nine, it’s not like she was ready for the scrapheap or anything. Even so, she wouldn’t consider dating the handsome young man beside her. The lad’s mum was probably only a couple of years older than her. It was such a shame though; he did have a nice body.

“You’re the only person at work who’s actually nice to me, Marlene.”

She abruptly stopped and gazed at the lad in astonishment. Where the hell did that come from? “Don’t talk wet,” she replied. “Of course the others like you, why wouldn’t they? I know for a fact that Dominic thinks you’re a smashing lad,”

Thomas sighed, “I’ve seen that oh so familiar look appearing in their eyes, especially last night when that oven exploded. Their attitude has altered since I started work at the club.” He shrugged. “It’s happened so many times now, I could write the bloody script.”

“They were only accidents Thomas. Nobody blames you.”

He started to nod, she didn’t think he heard her.

“They all say that, at least they do at the beginning, until other stuff goes wrong and then one by one they all start to look at me. I’m a Jonah you see, bad things happen to people when I’m around, never to me though, I’ve noticed that, never to me.”

She shook her head; wishing that pleasant lad with the easy smile would come back. Marlene wasn’t comfortable in handling situations like these. “I’m sorry Thomas but I don’t believe that, they are just random occurrences. There’s no such thing as a Jonah.”

“Thank you Marlene, that means a lot to me, really it does but you are in the minority. I already know that Mr. Crowley regrets taking me on. My uncle owns an engineering firm, he got me a job there just after I left school. My new boss rang him up last night.”

“What’s wrong with that? He was probably just checking your references. It’s standard procedure.”

Thomas shook his head, “He’s already done that. Mr. Crowley rang him up for a reference last week. This time he was asking him if there had been any accidents whilst I worked there.”

He thrust his heads deep into his pockets, spun around and carried on walking. Marlene hurried to catch up with him. She was at a loss at what she could do, the lad had some serious issues, that was obvious. She still believed the events at the club and the tall, silent lad next to her was unrelated. Marlene also suspected that she was the only one who believed that. Thomas would be lucky to be still working at the club tomorrow night. The boss didn’t hang about getting rid of employers who could potentially harm his business, even if it wasn’t their fault. She expected that he’d be called into the office as soon as he arrived.

They both stopped again and stared as a convoy of military vehicles turned onto the main road and slowly rumbled past them.

“What the hell is going on?” she muttered. Her heart dropped a mile when she saw two soldiers sat in the cab of a large lorry placing gas masks over their faces. This was not good.

“Maybe we’re being invaded?” said Thomas.

Marlene counted eight armoured cars, a couple of lorries and five plain, white vans. She backtracked through her mind, trying to remember anything on the news that would warrant a bloody convoy going through the middle of Bradford. She watched the last one retreat into the distance; they appeared to be heading towards that rough estate. Well that figures, maybe the police have decided to call the big boys in.

Marlene turned to Thomas, “Invaded? Who the bloody hell would want to invade Bradford?”

He shrugged, “Dunno, maybe Leeds have declared war on us.”

She grinned,” Come on, we’re going to be late if we don’t get a move on.”

Marlene took one more look behind her before she caught up with Thomas. Seeing that collection of vehicles was going to play on her mind all night, something was going on. As if she didn’t have enough to think about. They were almost at the club now, she could see the building from here.

Marlene gazed up at the lad. “Look Thomas. I’ll have a word with the boss tonight. despite still thinking that this theory of yours is a load a baloney, it’s obvious that you believe it. The boss knows lot of people. Maybe he can find you a job where you don’t come into contact with other folk.”

The lad grinned and hugged her, he smelled of Old Spice. Marlene’s dad used to wear that. She felt a little depressed when he let her go.

“I’m not promising anything but I’ll do my best. By the way Thomas, nothing bad is going to happen tonight, you hear me?”

He shrugged, “I hope not but I stopped tempting the three sisters of fate a long time ago.”

“Just out of interest, did anything odd happen while you were working at your uncle’s firm?”

He nodded. “On the first day, the lathe operator got his finger crushed.”

“Oh Jesus,” she muttered.

Chapter three

Dominic Edmonton leaned around the corner of the hallway wall and peered down the stairs. The mental picture of his mother standing at the bottom with her arms crossed tight across her chest evaporated when he found it empty.

With a bit of luck and stealth, he may actually be able to escape out of the house without his blinking mother collaring him. Dominic would have to be super quiet though, her finely tuned sense of hearing would put a bat to shame.

“You’re forty two years old my friend and you’re still shit scared of mummy.”

His best friend at work, Douglas, said those words to him last week. What utter nonsense. Dominic wasn’t scared of his mother, well, not anymore he wasn’t. Those days were long gone. Back when he was a kid, she was like a tyrant. The woman terrified him. After he’d gone through his rebellious teen period and emerged on the other side, he began to realise just how hard it must have been for her. His father left an inexperienced mother with a highly strung four year old boy and a mountain of debt that she couldn’t possibly pay back.

Dominic turned around and grabbed his bedroom door handle. He supposed that under the circumstances, his mother did a sterling job and he really shouldn’t blame her for his miserable childhood. Today though was one of those rare occasions when Dominic really wished that he could work up the courage to move out and find his own place. She’d been on his back ever since he’d opened his fool mouth and told her about the explosion at work last night.

He clicked the door shut but not before blowing a kiss to his James Dean poster. “Keep the bed warm for me sweetheart.”

Dominic chuckled to himself. His poor mum would probably have heart failure if she ever discovered that her only son was ‘one of those fairies’ It had been a good few weeks since he’d been given the tired ‘when are you going to make me a grandma’ speech. One of these days he may even pluck up the courage to tell her, she definitely would have heart failure if he ever did that. Dominic was a little surprised that she hadn’t figured it out herself by now.

Aside from his beloved James Dean poster, the rest of his bedroom walls were covered in picture of faded pop stars from the eighties. They were all male and most were wearing very little clothing. If a huge poster of Andy Bell from Erasure, wearing a skin-tight pink leotard and posing provocatively on his bedroom door wasn’t a large enough clue then he didn’t know what was.

He turned and padded over to the top of the stairs, his mother was there now, bloody hell! Where had she come from? She stood at the bottom of the stair with her signature expression already etched upon her face.

“So you’ve decided to go to work then, to leave your mum, is that why you are smiling?”

“Oh for crying out loud mother, we had this conversation a couple of hours ago. What happened last night was just a freak accident.”

“Rubbish,” she snapped. “That boss of yours lets you work with shoddy equipment. I should ring that club up and give your boss a piece of my mind.”

“Don’t you dare. Mr. Crowley has been super good to us, if it wasn’t for my wage, the debtors would still be banging on our door.”

Her face dropped into a sulk, oh Jesus god, she was getting ready to guilt trip him again. Dominic patted his back pocket. “Sugar lumps! I’ve forgotten my wallet.”

He spun around and rushed over to his bedroom door and opened it. His tattered leather wallet was still in his back pocket. Turning his back on her signalled the end of the conversation as far as he was concerned; she hated it when he pulled this trick. With a bit of super luck, she’ll have lost her momentum and wouldn’t kick up that much fuss when he left the house.

She might even have forgotten what she was doing down there in the first place and buggered off back to watch some rubbish on the box.

“Ooh, that’s a horrible thought to have about your poor mother. Take it back.”

He looked over at the lovely James and pouted,” No, I won’t. Make me.” He grinned then shut the door again.

He silently groaned when he saw that his mother was still there. Dominic let out a loud sigh and descended the stairs. He didn’t look at her, instead he kept his gaze fixed upon the framed pictures hanging on the wall. Everyone depicted him taken at various stages of his life. Three school photos, he didn’t look at those, school wasn’t any enjoyable time for him. His graduation picture, now that one was memorable. His lecturer was gorgeous. he spent many hours lusting after him. It was a shame that he was married.

He reached the bottom, smiled down at his mum and kissed her on the forehead. “Now, if you are super good, I’ll bring you back some fish and chips.” He kissed her again, opened the door and stepped out into the night.

His phone vibrated at the same time that Dominic saw his ride. A huge black four wheel drive truck pulled up on the over side of the street. He grinned and waved, as usual Douglas was as punctual as always. Douglas was in charge of security at the club, he also doubled up as cook when the place got super busy. The man’s omelettes were just exquisite, almost as tasty as Dominic’s.

Dominic giggled at the crude joke that Douglas had just sent him then climbed into the passenger seat of Douglas’s car. His friend had only had his new penis extension a couple of days, he was so proud of it. The first time that Dominic had climbed into the plush black leather seat had been yesterday. Douglas had spent the whole journey reading out all the boring statistics, he had never been so glad to see the neon blue sign hanging above the main door of the club in his whole life. He had wondered why Douglas had bothered, he knew that Dominic had no interest in cars. He couldn’t even remember what the car was called, probably something super macho and tough like The Predator or the Rabid Tiger.

He wasn’t all that surprised to see a pair of yellow fluffy dice hanging off the windscreen mirror.

“That’s a rather fine addition to your Sherman tank young man,” he said whilst chuckling, “Was it very expensive?”

“Don’t you fucking take the piss!” snapped Douglas.

Dominic recoiled as if the man had physically slapped him, where had that cutting remark appeared from? Despite his fearsome appearance and he did look very fierce, Douglas was one of the kindest men that he’d met. He risked a sly glance at his companion, whilst Douglas was concentrating on the road. With his close cropped Mohican and that tribal tattoo covering half his face coupled with his super large body, he could give those American wrestlers a run for their money. He wondered what was wrong with his friend because he’d never heard him shout like that he was usually a playful as a super large puppy dog with Dominic.

Douglas swerved to avoid an oncoming car, “Why don’t you watch where you’re going you stupid arse.” He looked at Dominic, “Sorry about snapping at you just then, Domino.”

Dominic shrugged and tried to smile back, “No worries.” He watched him turn his attention back to the road, he wondered if it would be safe to make another passing comment, some funny quip that was bound to cheer the man up. He did look like he needed a bit of happiness in his life.

“By the way Domino, I saw you eying up that new lad yesterday.” Douglas tutted and slowly shook his head, “you ought to be ashamed of yourself, you’re old enough to be his father.”

He was about to return with a snappy comeback when his memory slapped him with a fragment that he’d totally forgotten about.

Just before his beloved gas range cooker had that hissy fit and like had a tantrum, that new kid had just entered his lair. Dominic had spotted him and winked. He tried to make it look like a butch wink, not the sort of gesture that could be taken the wrong way but that was beside the point. He was in his kitchen when the accident occurred. Their shift supervisor, Marlene told him that the boy had also been working in the lounge on both the stabbing occasions. Dominic wondered if he was reading too much into this.

“Motherfucker!”

Dominic jumped again.

“Sorry Domino, I didn’t mean to startle you, I’ve had this banging headache for most of the afternoon. It feels like someone is driving red-hot spikes into my brain.”

“I’ve got some painkillers in the kitchen, if you want, when we get to the club. I’ll take you down there and give you one.”

He braced himself for the familiar punch on the arm for making a suggestive remark. Douglas just sighed and nodded.

“Thanks, man.” He muttered.

Dominic got the strangest feeling that his shift tonight was going to be another super queer one.

Chapter four

It reminded him of the mark of Zorro or perhaps a lightning bolt. Talbot pulled in next to the curb and switched off the engine. The jagged crack on his dashboard now reminded him of a smile, no it was more like a sneer. Just fucking great, even his own fucking car was mocking him.

The minor damage that he’d done to the car when he punched the dashboard concerned him more than the blood pissing out of the back of his hand. If he ever found out who that cunt who tried to cut him up a few minutes ago, Talbot would bury the fucker. He wasn’t able to catch the plate but that didn’t matter, there can’t be that many porridge brained fuckheads cruising about the town in a modified yank pickup. Talbot knew most of the local dealers, because of the work he was in. One of them must know who the pickup belonged to.

Christ on a bike, if it hadn’t been for his lightning quick reactions, he would have ploughed straight though that newsagent’s plate glass window. Talbot closed his eyes. The silent street helped to calm him down, the only sound he could hear was the ticking of the engine cooling off. He needed to compose himself before he left the car. If he didn’t get his temper under control, he was liable to kill that greasy little fucker. It wouldn’t even matter if he had somehow managed to scrape together the cash he owed, Talbot would pull off his limbs anyway.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, opened his eyes then pushed his door open, allowing the cool night air in. He picked up his thin, black leather gloves off the passenger seat and climbed out of his car. He watched a single drop of blood fall from his knuckle and splash into an oil stained puddle just next to his polished, black shoes. Talbot brought his fist up to his mouth and licked off the remaining blood, his own life fluid was just too precious to waste. Once he’d cleaned up the back of his hand, he donned his gloves. Talbot liked this pair, he called them his business gloves.

Mr. Greasy fucker didn’t understand the relevance of the glove wearing ritual just yet; this was Talbot’s first visit. Christine understood, he enjoyed her helpless look of terror as she watched him bring the business gloves from out of his back pocket and clothe his hands. She understood the relevance alright.

Talbot walked away from his car and turned off onto the street where the lad lived. He had a flat just above a launderette. He saw the reason why he had been asked to pay him a visit, parked under a streetlight.

“Very sensible,” he muttered.

It was tempting to run his key along the bodywork as he passed the car and then blame the lad for the heinous act. His car keys stayed in his pocket, there was little point in making up another crime, he’d soon have plenty to think about. Talbot paused in front of the flat door. He had forgotten just how much violence his boss had told him to use. This was the lad’s first offence so it was usual to dispense with a few slaps and generally scare the shit out of him.

Talbot’s hand was stinging like a right bastard, with the foul mood that he was in; he suspected that just a few slaps would not be enough, not for Talbot anyway. There was a little more info that his boss had given him, the greasy fucker lived with a girl.

“If she’s a looker, I may hold off on the slaps altogether.”

He grabbed the door handle and gave it a turn, shocked and delighted to find it unlocked. Obviously, the idiot didn’t care much about home security, now that just smacked of twelve shades of stupidity. Greasy fucker’s flat was right in the middle of one of the city’s roughest areas, not quite as bad as the Breakspear estate but fucking close. Not locking your door was just an open invitation, you never knew who could be calling.

Talbot chuckled to himself, “That’s funny.”

He pushed the door wide open; his action spread a pile of unopened brown envelopes across the filthy floor.

“Jesus, what a mess! No wonder he doesn’t lock his door, who the fuck would want to burgle this dump?”

That state of the place told him all he needed to know about this particular client. Greasy fucker was one of those irritating breeds of males who grazed through life, not caring or understanding that their careless activities would have much consequence. He was probably up to his eyeballs in debt before he bought the car off of Talbot’s employer.

He stepped over the threshold, being very careful where he placed his shoes. These envelopes could conceal all manner of unpleasant substances beneath them. The place was an absolute disgrace; he saw piles of empty pizza boxes competing for space with supermarket carrier bags full of god knows what. All the detritus have been kicked to the side, leaving a narrow gap. Talbot couldn’t get over just how many shoes were mixed up with all that crap, lots and lots of high heeled shoes. Was the greasy bastard fucking an octopus?

Talbot couldn’t understand how anyone was able to breeze through their existence leaving a blizzard of crap in their wake. It was also clear to him that greasy fucker had been unable to domesticate his woman. He felt his libido begin to retreat, he had second thoughts now about forcing him to watch as Talbot violated his woman. If she couldn’t even clean up a small flat, she certainly would be unable to look after herself. Who knows what diseases the mucky bitch must be harbouring, his cock would stay in his trousers where it was safe.

There was more than one way to degrade his client. Talbot was an expert on the subject; he’d had plenty of practice. There was a closed door and the top of the stairs, some time in it’s past, a window graced the top half of the door but that had long gone. In its place was a badly cut piece of plywood. He stared at that door, willing one of the occupants to open it, the shock showing in their bunny eyes would be like nectar to his ego.

It was tempting to shout out but he had no intentions of losing them, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure if this dingy pit had a back entrance. Talbot kicked one of the pizza boxes off the first step and began his accent. As he climbed he became aware of a faint but familiar odour gradually creeping into his nostrils, Talbot wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Why am I not fucking surprised?” He muttered.

It was stale dope smoke. Talbot should have guessed that the greasy fucker and his dirty slag would be druggies. He hated drug users. Talbot considered them to be the dregs of society, they were all weak minded scum bags who, if he had his way would be shot in the face.

When he discovered who supplied his son then that particular dreg would definitely be eating a shotgun shell. He still had problems believing that his own kin had betrayed him. What if it wasn’t drugs, what if he was sick and needed a hospital? He shook his head. Bollocks, of course it was drugs, the lad was weak minded like his mother. Talbot traced the outline of the key to the dog cage under his shirt.

Tomorrow would be a new day for Brendan. He had decided that enough was enough, Talbot would no longer allow the lad to shame him. It was Christine’s fault of course, she had always wanted a daughter but because of the complications after Brendan was born, she couldn’t have any more children. So instead, the bitch turned his only son into some sort of pansy. Well he’d soon get all that nonsense knocked out of Brendan, with the help of a few associates; he knew he’d be able to reshape his son into a real man.

It’s what Talbot’s father did to him when he was a teenager. It shamed him to remember that he was one of those cringing little sneaks that spent his sad life cowering behind other people. Talbot nodded to himself, he should have done it along time ago, after all it didn’t do him any harm. He needed to think of something that would mark the occasion, something that his son would remember for the rest of his life, the lad needed to know that his old effeminate life was now over. He grinned; he’ll make him east the rest of that hamster.

Talbot managed to reach the top of the stairs without soiling his shoes and trousers on the revolting mess clogging up the stairs. This place was no doubt crawling with vermin, his son would love it here, Brendan had a thing for small furry animals. Talbot could picture him crawling through all this crap, to find another furry animal to stroke and pet.

He remembered an incident a few years ago. He was sitting in his study, polishing his shoes when Christine blasted the wax out of his eardrums with a deafening scream. He dropped everything and belted into the kitchen, thinking that someone had broken in. Talbot found her kneeling on the work surface, her trembling finger pointing at a tiny mouse eating a piece of bread by the corner of the fridge. He’d sensed his son just behind him. Talbot felt the last piece of compassion he had for his family dissolve away, these people didn’t deserve him. He looked down at the mouse who was still down there casually nibbling away at food that didn’t belong to him, the cheeky little fucker.

“Don’t hurt it dad, it’s…”

The boy’s remaining words dried on his lips when Talbot spun around and glared at him. He didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what the boy was about to say. His soft little son had been giving that thing tasty treats. No wonder it hadn’t taken fright and scampered off. Talbot then flashed his son a tight smile, turned to make sure that the unwelcome visitor was still there. Then he lifted up his boot and stamped on the fucker.

Thinking back, that had been the only time when his son had displayed another emotion other than fear in his presence. Seeing all that pent up hate dripping from the boy’s eyes like battery acid gave him an incredible buzz. It was almost as fulfilling as hearing the rodent’s tiny little bones snap under his boot.

That gave him an incredible idea, those two lowlife druggies in this dump acted like rodents so he ought to treat them the same way. Talbot would stamp on their hands. He pushed the door open with his toe, even with gloves on; he couldn’t bring himself to touch that grimy handle.

As he had expected, the room beyond continued with the fashion of neglect and bedlam already evident in the hallway. What Talbot didn’t expect to see in that dimly lit room was the gallons of deep, red blood covering every surface. There was enough light to see the shape of two figures on a large sofa against the dirt streaked wall.

He couldn’t be sure but he thought that the figure under the man was female, it was difficult to tell, as not much of her remained intact. The boy had his head buried deep within her stomach. He reminded Talbot of a starving dog tucking into a cow’s carcass.

“What the fuck is going on?”

The wet sound of chewing stopped; the lad brought his head out of the hole and gazed at him. He began to moan softly. Oh Christ, he had seen that look and those blank eyes before in Brendan. The lad slowly turned back to that gaping crimson maw then back to Talbot.

He quickly dismissed the notion of this being the result of drugs. Talbot had seen many things in his life but the scene before him topped them all. For the first time in his dubious career of debt enforcer, he wished he had brought the pistol, hidden in the boot of the car.

“Are you going to talk to me you dirty, greasy fucker? I asked you a question!”

He blinked once before dipping his head back into that hole. Talbot’s raging temper took hold, he couldn’t believe it, that little bastard had just dismissed him as if he was of no consequence. No fucker ignored Talbot Field. He strode into the room, grabbed a beer bottle from the top of the TV stand and launched it at the lad. It smacked into his shoulder. He looked up once more.

“Don’t you fucking ignore me you greasy cunt!” he screamed.

The lad climbed off the dead girl and staggered towards Talbot, he saw no fear or unease in the boy’s eyes, only hunger. He instinctively stepped back when the boy reached for him. Talbot clenched both fists and hooked the left into the boy’s stomach. He didn’t even flinch, that was not possible, the fucker should have folded like a bloody hinge. Talbot growled, before punching him square on the nose. Yet again the lad didn’t react as he should have. This wasn’t fair, he felt like he was hitting a fucking punch bag. Talbot pulled his fist back one more time then stopped when he heard someone else starting to moan. He gaped in horror as the girl on the sofa tried to sit up. He must be fucking dreaming, the bitch was dead, half of her insides were outside.

He didn’t notice the lad had tenderly taken hold of his other hand like a betrothed lover and was bringing it up to his open mouth.

Sharp pain abruptly lanced through Talbot as the lad bit down on his fingers. He screamed out loud in shock and agony before smashing his uninjured fist into the lad’s nose one more time. It had no effect; Talbot could feel the teeth crunching through fabric, skin and flesh.

He gritted his own teeth then grabbed the man’s ear and slammed his head into the wall. He saw the woman out of the corner of his eye slip off the sofa and onto the floor, most of her insides stayed where they were. The lad’s teeth scraped against his bones, Talbot slammed his head into the wall again and again. After the fourth impact, the lad finally let go of his destroyed hand.

Talbot was close to bursting into tears. He watched the greasy fucker slide down the wall leaving a smear of blood and brains on the wallpaper. He then marched over to the thing still crawling towards him and stamped on both of her hands before staggering out of the room. That cunt had mangled his beautiful hand, Talbot slowly made his way down the stairs, feeling a little dizzy and very confused. He couldn’t understand why he no longer felt any pain in his right hand.

Chapter five

Lester Field bent over the low brick wall and picked the discarded coke can off the grass verge. Technically, this piece of land outside the carpark didn’t belong to the club and consequently out of his jurisdiction. The council was supposed to be responsible for its upkeep, not that he’d ever seen any of those bunch of slackers and jobsworth cowboys anywhere near here. They were too busy giving out parking fines to care about picking up litter.

Mess bred chaos; anyone with half a brain knew that. Lester couldn’t abide mess, he’d always been a very tidy person and thankfully it was one quality that he was proud to say that his only son had inherited. He chuckled; compared to young Talbot, old Lester was a teenage scruffpot. He remembered the last time Lester was invited up for dinner and how Talbot reacted when that wimpy grandson spilled gravy all over the tablecloth. Brendan’s father went postal and beat the living shit out of the lad. Of course Lester had silently approved, after all it’s what he had to do to Talbot when he was younger. What he didn’t approve of though was that bloody wife of his.

He saw the fear in her eyes, which was a good thing but he also saw defiance. Young Talbot should have knocked that out of her a long time ago, it’s what he did to his Irene when they were first married and it never did her any bloody harm. Still, it wasn’t Lester’s place to say anything, not that he would anyway. Despite her major attitude problem, the woman did make a smashing cauliflower cheese. The family had invited him up again on Saturday; he hoped she’d make that again.

Lester dropped the can onto the tarmac and stamped on it until it was good and flat, he ensured that there were no sharp edges that would rip the plastic then threw it into his black bin bag. He patted his chest pocket on his orange overalls to make sure that his rollup was still in there. If would soon be time to enjoy his traditional ‘job well done’ cigarette. Lester only had the bins behind the club to check and his tools to side away and that would be another shift in the bag.

He slowly turned around, scanning the carpark for any litter that he may have missed. It would be a very shameful experience if Mr. Crowley pulled up in that expensive dark green Mercedes and just happened to spot a crushed fag packet or a chip wrapper despoiling his immaculate carpark.

Thank the seven lords of creation that it wasn’t windy tonight. He knew that there really was no need to double check as he’d done the job correctly the first time. Even so, diligence paid dividends, that’s what his old man used to say to him.

“You could eat your dinner off that floor.” He murmured.

Lester glanced at his watch. The employees would be arriving very soon, closely followed by the customers. Both classes of folk would treat his carpark like a giant litter bin. He hoped to be round the back before the first car pulled in, he wouldn’t be able to contain his temper if he witnessed them dropping their crap all over the bloody place.

“Something else what young Talbot inherited from me.”

He picked up the bag and slung it over his shoulder then walked towards the club building. It was hard to believe that he was Mr. Crowley’s longest serving employee. Considering none of the other staff members would even give him the time of the day, except for their in-house cook, Dominic. He treated Lester with more than a modicum of respect.

The bouncer called the lad Domino for some reason, one of these days, he’d ask him why. He was another one who treated him with a little respect. He made a good bouncer did Douglas. He fit the part very well but underneath all that muscle, the feller was a big pudding. Lester bet that his old man didn’t give him the odd slap. If he had then Douglas wouldn’t have to be such a bloody drama queen. A man needed discipline in his life, anyone with half a brain knew that. As for the lad, well Lester suspected that he was one of those fairies so he didn’t count as he wasn’t a real man.

His muse was broken by the sound of glass breaking. His head snapped up, that was a bottle. No doubt some clown was rifling through the bottle bank round the back again. Bloody hell, Lester hated glass, it was a real pain to clear up. He placed the bag on the floor and hurried along the side of the club, convinced a group of kids from the Breakspear estate were round the back and up to no good. He smiled to himself. They’d chosen the wrong place to cause mischief. Lester had no compunction in giving a few kids a good hiding. As far as he was concerned, all brats were fair game to a collision with his hard hands, open or closed. Especially ones who liked to cause trouble.

He heard another bottle smash. Somebody was going to get it tonight, he smacked his fist into his open palm, oh yes, nobody messed his bloody club up. Lester reached the iron fence separating the carpark from the delivery yard, he was most annoyed to discover the gate wide open. A tiny stab of unease crept into his heart when he realised that it had been him who’d forgotten to lock the bloody gate after he’d collected his tools. If Mr. Crowley did just happen to show up how the hell would he explain this one? He’d left one of the emergency exits open too. Lester had lodged the door open with a brick. Bloody hell, if those brats were inside the club, Mr. Crowley would string him up by his bollocks, he couldn’t believe he’d been so bloody careless.

“Mr. Crowley wasn’t going to find out though.”

Lester reckoned that he had about twenty more minutes before the first of the employees turned up. As he rushed through the gate, he saw the two smashed bottles straight away. Lester snorted when it dawned on him what must have happened. He looked across the top of the compound wall that surrounded the back area and saw the rest of them.

Fourteen bottles filled with sand remained on the wall, just where he’d placed them a few weeks ago. He couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to forget about them. Lester had placed them there to stop a fox from sneaking into the yard and ripping up his bin bags.

He couldn’t remember where he’d read that little trick but it had worked, that bloody fox hadn’t made another appearance since. Lester gazed at all that sand and broken glass and sighed.

“It must have been a bloody cat. The noise will have sent it scattering.”

That adrenalin rush Lester felt when he though he may be having a rumble just vanished leaving him feeling a little disappointed, giving a bunch of snot nosed brats a bloody good clip round the lugholes would have fair made his day so it would.

Lester strode over the mess and hurried over to the open fire door, he peaked inside and listened for a moment or two just in case. He had to make sure, after all, due diligence did pay dividends. There were no skulking shadows or any sound apart from the low humming of the walk in freezer at the back of the kitchen. Then again he didn’t expect to hear anything, it was just a cat that’s all, he knew that a bunch of kids would have knocked more than a couple of bottles down.

Lester removed the two bricks and allowed the fire door to swing shut. It looked like he would have to wait a little longer before he could enjoy that cigarette and to make things bloody worse, he left his tools in front of the club. He imagined the look of disapproval he’d get from Mr. Crowley if he pulled into the carpark and saw Lester’s gear left unattended, just begging to be stolen.

It was the bottle bank not the open gate that caught his attention when Lester turned around. Did he just see something under there move? His body may be past its prime by thirty years but the old peepers were still as sharp as they’d always been. He crouched down to get a better view. Bloody hell, there was something under there and it was no cat that was for damn sure, way too big for a cat.

It was too dark to make it out, if it was a fox it was a bloody big one. Lester glanced at his watch and found that he still had a few minutes before the boss could arrive, plenty of time to do a spot of pest control.

“Mr. Fox is going get a bit of a headache in a minute.”

He scurried back to the fire door and picked up one of the bricks, after a moments hesitation, he picked up the other brick too. Suitably armed he sneaked over to the bottle bin, he wasn’t sure why he was being so stealthy, it’s not like the fox wouldn’t be able to see him approach the bank. Lester mentally shrugged. He’d already passed the bank once and that hadn’t alarm the little bastard so maybe it’ll stay where it is, shaking and quivering.

Lest stopped directly in front of the bank, he liked the idea that Mr. Fox was under there, no doubt shitting himself and waiting for the scary human to piss off so he can go through the bin bags again.

“Not this time,” he murmured, rubbing the bricks together. “You’re going to get a nasty present.”

He didn’t think the fox would stay still long enough for him to smash its head between the two bricks but he was going to have a bloody good go. Lester dropped to his knees. He rested his hands on the bricks and bent his head closer to the gap. It was definitely still there. Lester could hear it moving about.

He then heard a noise echoing out of the gap that came from no animal, it was a human moan.

“What the hell? Hello, is there someone under there?”

As Lester bent further down, a pair of small hands whipped out from under the gap, each one fastened around his ears. His own hands instinctively flew up and wrapped around those freezing cold arms. Just as he did so, Lester lost his balance. He found himself getting dragged towards that tiny gap. All Lester could hear were the sounds of guttural groaning and crying, the crying was coming from him.

His body slapped the tarmac and Lester came face to face with his assailant. It was a little girl no older than five. She moaned again when she saw him and lunged forward, Lester tried to jerk back but was too late to stop her from fastening her teeth over his bottom lip. Pain exploded through him as she bit through the flesh, she growled and pulled her head back, stretching his mutilated lip until finally it tore.

The girl darted forward once more, this time she bit into his neck, he could hear her chewing through his skin and tendons but the sound, like the pain had receded into the distance. He closed his eyes, the last thought he had before he died was of a giant fox picking up litter.

Chapter six

Angela Price’s gasps exploded from her, she thrust her naked body further down the bed. The man’s head, wedged between her legs responded by pushing his snakelike tongue further inside her. This was it, oh Christ, the first orgasm that hadn’t been self induced was rushing through her body like a tsunami.

She screamed and tried to arch her back but the man had placed his arms over her thighs so he could finish her off.

After what felt like an eternity, the man looked at her, wiped his chin then grinned.

“Marks out of ten?”

“Twenty.” she replied, giggling.

“So are you ready for the main course now?”

“Oh god yes!” she replied. “Get those pants off, I want to taste what you have in there.”

He climbed off the bed and stood in front of Angela, with his eyes roaming up and down her body, she stretched like a cat and licked her lips. The man made no move to remove the rest of his clothes.

“You keep yourself on the boil for a couple of minutes sweetheart. I need to go and piss.”

She made a grab for his crotch, giggling when he jumped back. “You are such a romantic.”

Angela watched him leave the room, she pulled the crimson, silk sheet over her body and snuggled her head into the soft pillow. She still found it hard to believe that it was only yesterday when she was calling the man who’d just made her earth move, an evil old bastard, to his face as well.

He’d been on her back throughout the whole of her shift. ‘Angela that glass is still dirty. You’ve been giving out the wrong change again. That couple is still waiting for their food’.

By midnight she’d had enough and decided there and then that it was time to find another job and that Mr. Crowley could go fuck himself.

She heard him enter the bathroom, oh god, she so hoped that he wasn’t going to take forever. If he could turn her into a mound of jelly with just his tongue what would he be able to do that that monster inside his trousers?

Angela had heard all the rumours about what her new boss was like on the first day of her shift this time last week. Even her new friend, Marlene had sworn blind that most of the rumours were true. She had winked at Angela and told her that the size of it was definitely true. She just gazed in disbelief at the slimy, auburn skinned man, prancing about in those silly Cuban heals and decided that it was all just one big wind up. They probably told the same story to all the new starters.

That warm fuzzy feeling between her legs had started to disappear, where the hell was he? Men weren’t supposed to take forever in the bathroom, that was the woman’s role. She ought to be horrified that she was impatiently waiting for a man old enough to be her father to come back to screw her senseless. Bernard told her earlier how he would be forty eight next month. Bloody hell, her dad was only forty. Angela should be ashamed of herself, but she wasn’t.

Her boyfriend, Dave was supposed to be out on a stag do tonight. Angela felt a twinge of guilt about her antics but she swiftly smothered it. She knew for a fact that he’d probably end up sleeping with some pissed up tart, he’d pull at some nightclub. She’d heard from more than one of her mates that her Dave wasn’t very faithful, ironic really considering how crap in bed he was. Maybe that was a bit unfair, Bernard had over thirty years of practice to perfect his techniques. Oh where the bloody hell was he? She had started to get cold.

Angela whipped the covers back, climbed out of the bed and grabbed the man’s dressing gown. If he thought that Angela was staying in there any longer then he had another thing coming.

She opened the door and stepped into Bernard’s office. She ran her fingers across the top of his white leather sofa and smiled, it was on this where the man had successfully seduced her into bed.

It was still a bloody mystery how he’d managed to pull it off. He’d sat her down at three in the morning then smiled and actually apologised for his abrupt behaviour all night. It was surreal, Angela felt as though she was sitting next to a completely different person. That stone faced bastard who’d gone to town on her throughout her shift was nowhere to be seen, instead this utterly charming man sat beside her, regaling Angela with humorous quips about the other staff members and their regular customers. He’d begged her not to leave just yet and to give him another chance.

He’d then pressed a cold glass full of a clear but fruity liquid into her hands. She didn’t have a clue what it was but the stuff flowed down her throat like rich ambrosia. Somehow, they’d started kissing and those gentle hands of his massaged her in ways she’d never dreamt of. When he’d whispered that he’d wanted her in Angela’s ear, she knew she just had to go to bed with him.

The office door was wide open, she padded over and peered out. His office was located at the end of the corridor, directly above the club. The toilets were the next door to the left. Angela smiled and stood in front of the door and loosened the cord around the dressing gown, she couldn’t wait to see his face light up when he opened that door.

A sharp crack emanating from downstairs caused her to snap her head around.

“What the hell was that?” she murmured.

There wasn’t anyone else in the club, not yet anyway. The only person close by was that cleaner and he would be busy sweeping up outside. Angela then sighed, when it clicked. Bernard must have gone downstairs to grab a bottle of wine for after he’d finished ravishing her, he mentioned earlier that he had no booze left up here. Angela wandered over to the stairwell, they still had nearly half an hour before her work mates showed up.

She started to go down the stairs, that was plenty of time for Bernard to roger her stupid over the bar. That would give her something to smile about the next time she was serving the customers.

It felt a little strange walking through the deserted club, clad in just the owner’s dressing gown. She paused in front of a mirror beside the fruit machine and gazed at her reflection. Angela smiled and brushed her hand across the downy zebra striped material, the pattern complemented her full figure well. She looked better in it than Barnard would and no doubt a lot better than any of the other women who’d no doubt worn this dressing gown before she had.

Angela was willing to put down her next wage that Marlene had worn this dressing gown at some point in her time at the club. The petite lass may come over all respectable and principled but Angela wasn’t a fool, she could almost smell her distinctive perfume on this gown. Just that that moment, Angela felt a stab of jealousy. Thinking about her Bernard groaning as that woman rode him like a wild stallion, yeah well, that was in the past, this is the present and pretty soon that man won’t know what’s hit him. She also intended to make sure that his wandering eyes would stay fixed on her alone.

In the mirror’s reflection, she caught sight of a dark shadow moving beneath the bar. Bernard must be searching for a couple of clean glasses. She giggled to herself, he won’t find many down there, Angela washed them up. She may not be well up with all that cleaning malarkey, but there was one particular activity that she did excel at. She may not have the experience of Bernard, at seventeen, she’d only been having sex for three years, but Angela was a quick learner and it hadn’t taken her that long to work out what males desired.

Angela crouched down and hurried over to the bar, she unfastened the robe again, got onto her knees and crawled towards the opening. Ten she heard a noise that almost stopped her heart. The toilet upstairs flushed followed by a door slamming and the thudding noise of heavy footsteps.

She let out an involuntary gasp. Oh Jesus, if Bernard was still up there? Who the fuck was down here? Angela heard a single low moan before hearing something scraping across the bar above her. She had no time to react before feeling a hand on the top of her head. Fingers grabbed her hair and pulled the woman up. She came face to face with a wasted looking male teenager. He brought up his other arm and anchored his hand round her throat.

Angela was caught fast. His grip held her too tight to struggle, she looked into his wide, staring eyes, hoping to see some hint of compassion but those dead orbs may well have been made from glass. The youth tried to pull her over the bar, she saw his mouth opening wider, oh Jesus, the insane bastard wanted to bite into her!

He forced her head down onto a metal drip tray, then leaned towards her exposed cheek whilst moaning. Her hands reached up and attempted to push his head away. It was no use, the man just pushed them away as if they were no more worrisome than a pesky fly. Her hand brushed past a forgotten beer bottle, in desperation she snatched it up and smashed it into the side of his head. The lad loosened his grip but didn’t fully release her, in panic she jerked her head back, feeling the intense pain on her scalp as he dug his fingernails in.

She staggered back, Angela’s euphoria dampened by the sight of the youth following her. Oh Jesus! What was he on? She glanced at the smashed glass spread across the bar. The bottle’s impact should have knocked the bastard into next week.

Angela tried to shout for Bernard but could only manage a single croak. He’d already stumbled out from behind the bar, the youth blocked her way back to the stairs so she turned and bolted toward the kitchen.

She daren’t risk a glance behind. The sound of his laboured breathing assured Angela that he hadn’t given up. Angela burst through the double plastic doors and stepped into Dominic’s domain. As the doors swung shut behind her, she then did look back. The lad wasn’t there. She peered through the scratched plastic and finally spotted him, he was staring into the aquarium built into the wall.

He couldn’t have forgotten about her could he? That just wasn’t possible. Angela stepped away from the door unable to believe her good luck, she looked up and silently whooped for joy, the first employees should be arriving any moment. How she would explain herself when they found her in here wouldn’t matter as long as they dealt with that bastard out there.

“Please make it Douglas to get here first.” she murmured.

Angela put her hand to her scalp, grimacing at the spots of blood sticking to her palm. There was no pain at all now, that that bloody weird. She traced a deep groove along her scalp with her index finger, still no pain.

Her finger went straight into her mouth. That overpowering sense of fear had disappeared too, the only thing she felt now was anger. Angela did feel a little hungry too but she could sort that out with a little more of her blood. She dug her finger into her head wound whilst trying to think of something she could use to dispatch Mr. fish lover out there. If only Dominic hadn’t locked away his utensils, he had a huge assortment of knives that would easily deal with him. She placed her dripping finger back into her mouth and sucked it dry before pushing the digit back into the wound, gouging out some more of her flesh. Angela then remembered a perfect weapon she could use on him and it was almost within reach. The walk in freezer had a dozen meat hooks hanging from the ceiling, one of them would be ideal.

Angela hurried over and pulled the handle down, she briefly wondered why her body didn’t react as the freezing air blasted out. She pushed the doubt to the back of her mind when she spotted a couple of hooks at the back of the room. She rushed inside, eager to grab the first hook, not realising that the sub-zero had taken the first few layers of skin off the soles of her feet. As Angela reached up, the door began to swing shut. She turned and watched, suddenly remembering that the release mechanism on the inside had broken off last week. She shrugged to herself, she could wait for a few minutes, it’s not like it was that cold in here.

Chapter seven

Marlene crossed over the deserted road and stepped into the empty carpark, now that was a little odd, where was Bernard’s car? She didn’t expect to be the first ones to arrive.

Thomas tapped her on the shoulder, “I wonder where everyone is. Do you have a key?”

She shook her head, “I do but I don’t have it with me.”

He took out his mobile phone yet again. Marlene suppressed a sigh, he hadn’t left the thing alone since they’d started walking. He must be the only person she knew who’d rather check his Facebook status instead of just enjoying the silence and the cool night air. It also riled her that once the phone had his attention, he’d stopped giving her shy glances.

“Well, we’re on time.” He pointed at a window on the upper floor, “Someone must be in, there’s a light on.”

She should have guessed that Bernard had been up to his old tricks again. Either that or someone had decided to burgle the place. Marlene was willing to bet on the former. She also had an idea on who his boss could be with.

“Come on Thomas let’s go give that door a good banging.”

“What’s so funny?”

Marlene walked across the carpark, trying to work out just how many girls that dirty old bastard had taken up there, thankfully, she wasn’t one of them. The girls who Bernard fancied didn’t usually last that long after he got bored with them, there was always another set of pretty eyes and breasts to distract his wandering eyes. She had wondered on more than one occasion why Bernard had never tried to get her behind his office. In a way she was glad that he hadn’t. Marlene valued her job too much to start ruining everything by jumping into bed with the boss. There was still that tiny voice at the back of her mind that occasionally popped up and calmly informed her that Barnard hadn’t even given her a chance to refuse his advances.

Thomas wandered over to a full bin bag and an old golf bag containing a couple of sweeping brushes and a shovel. “Does this lot belong to that old cleaner?”

She nodded.

His head darted from side to side, “I’m not too keen on him.” he whispered. “He’s a bit too creepy for my liking.”

“Join the club,” she replied. “Thinking about Lester gave Marlene the shivers. he’d always been pleasant enough to her but those nasty little eyes of his told her a different story. Not to mention his horrible tongue. It always popped out to lick his lips whenever someone spoke to him.

Marlene brayed on the front door, eager to get inside. If Lester’s stuff was here, then he wouldn’t be that far away. He normally guarded all that mouldy old stuff in that golf bag with his life. The bag was his precious. Marlene giggled and wondered if Lester would get the gag. He did bear a remarkable resemblance to Gollum as well, only not as attractive.

She banged on the door again.

“I think that cleaner is round the back, look the gate is open. Shall we go have a look?”

It was a good idea, despite Bernard constantly telling him off, Lester had this annoying habit of propping one of the fire doors open so he could get to the water taps. They could get in that way. Marlene didn’t think the boss would mind too much. It would give him chance to finish off the girl he was doing. Marlene thought back to last night, he was in a right mood with everyone, especially Angela. She just assumed it was because of all the crap that had happened these past few nights, then it clicked. She knew exactly who he would be finishing off. He was using his evil ogre role on that slip of a girl.

“Jesus, does he have no shame,” she muttered.

“Did you say something?”

“Come on then, let’s go round the back. I’ve started to get cold now that we’ve stopped.” Marlene banged on the door one last time. “Come on you daft old bast…”

Marlene gasped and jumped back as the door swing open.

“The main act has just fucking cancelled.” He said.

Bernard stepped aside and allowed them to pass him. Marlene caught the smell of whisky on his breath. She walked into the lounge, the first thing that caught her eye was the broken glass bottle. What the hell had gone on here? She saw the table shoved to the side and the over turned chairs and wondered if there really had been a burglary. She waited for Bernard to follow them in and pointed at the mess.

“Buggered if I know,” he said, shrugging. “It’ll probably be that bloody cleaner, nosing around the fucking bar again.”

He looked up at Thomas who made the mistake of smiling back. “What? Do you think this is funny or something?”

“Or course not Mr. Crowley.”

“Well wipe that fucking gormless smirk off your face and make yourself useful. That means stop standing about like some fucking shop floor dummy and get this shit cleaned up.”

Bernard rubbed his forehead, “Please Lord Jesus, save me from fucking idiots.”

Marlene watched him hurry over to the bar, muttering to himself, this was not a man who’d just received his oats. Oh this was just fantastic. just what she needed, yet another night of keeping her head down and hoping he’d have go at another member of staff. Oh shit, Marlene really did hope that Bernard wouldn’t choose tonight to get rid of Thomas.

“Marlene, Can I have a word?”

She pushed Thomas towards the cleaning cupboard then braced herself. Marlene had the feeling that he was about to offload a great big pile of shit onto her shoulders.

“What’s wrong boss?”

He glared at her, “What part of ‘the main act has just cancelled’ did you not fucking understand? Get on the phone and start ringing round. We need someone else tonight and pronto and for crying out loud, don’t book some rock band or an alternative comedian.” Bernard pored himself a Jack Daniels. “This place is going to be full of pensioners tonight after the bingo hall shuts. The last thing I fucking need is a rowdy crowd of old fuckers complaining about the lack of entertainment.”

She’d forgotten that it was zombie night. This was their busiest night. Bernard should be happy, he usually was when faced with the opportunity to make money. Marlene couldn’t remember where the name originally came from. It wasn’t the nicest of names to label them with but after a few pints and gin and tonics down their throats they definitely acted like bloody zombies.

He downed the drink in one go, “I also want that young lad working the floor tonight. His pretty face should be able to keep those old bags pacified when they get a bit rowdy later on.”

Bernard passed her the phone and stormed over to the front door. “Right, I’m going to have a quick word with that bloody cleaner.”

He gave that special look, the one he only used when he needed a huge favour from her. “Please Marlene, do your best, find me a good act for tonight.”

She nodded, “Leave it with me boss, I’ll try to pull in a few favours.”

It sounded to Marlene that Thomas had been given a last minute reprieve. Her boss had a point there, the old dears will just pester poor Thomas to death. If he played his cards right though, he ought to make a bloody killing in tips tonight.

“Right, I’ll leave that in your capable hands. If you need me, I’ll be outside talking to Lester, which is something I should have done a long time ago.”

That old bastard was about to get both barrels. She almost felt sorry for him.

Marlene hurried over to the bar, as soon as he was out of the club, she intended to pour herself a strong drink too, she got the feeling that tonight was going to be one of those bastard nights.

They both jumped as a shriek pierced the air. Marlene swung around and watched Thomas stagger away from the open closet.

“Jesus lad,” shouted Bernard, “You nearly gave me fucking heart failure. What’s got into you? Have you seen a mouse?”

Thomas turned, his face drained of blood, “There’s a boy hiding in the cupboard and I think he’s dead.”

Chapter eight

His first thought when they pulled into the carpark was where is everyone? Dominic rechecked the clock on the dashboard, they weren’t early so where on earth were Marlene’s and Mr. Crowley’s cars? He kept the question to himself though, as he had no wish to disturb Douglas. He took his eyes off the empty carpark and watched his friend trying to park the beast in his usual spot. It pained him to see the vast amount of concentration etched upon his friend’s face as he performed a task that would normally take him just seconds.

He’d told Dominic earlier that the headache had receded into the background. At the time that had been such a super relief. As he witnessed the beads of sweat trickling down Douglas’s forehead, he received the unpleasant notion that his friend had been feeding him a line. Dominic decided to confide with Marlene, when he found her of course, maybe she could persuade the big oaf to go see a doctor.

Douglas parked up next to a late night pharmacy ten minutes ago and asked Dominic to go buy him some extra strength painkillers. Douglas had said he wouldn’t be able to go inside as all those fluorescents would make him see in colours. Dominic intended to find out exactly what that meant by that later on tonight.

Dominic pushed open the door and climbed out.

“Don’t slam my door, guy. I’ve killed people for less.”

Dominic heeded the big man’s advice and gently clicked the door shut. He discreetly watched his friend slowly ease his frame out of the vehicle. Dominic honestly felt as though he was observing a different person. His big, cuddly teddy bear had run for the hills, leaving a huge scary man in his place. Dominic found the situation a little disquieting yet it also excited him too.

His friend had always stated that he preferred the rather boring heterosexual way of living. Douglas would often describe his latest conquest to Dominic, he’d lost count of just how many pretty girls that he’d taken to his bed. It always made Dominic so jealous. According to rumour, his friend was big everywhere. He imagined this huge, scary stranger pulling him back into the off roader and driving him somewhere dark and quiet before ripping off his clothes and bruising Dominic everywhere.

“Control yourself boy,” he muttered. He ought to be ashamed of himself. His friend could be dying and he was having erotic thoughts. “I think I need a cold shower.”

When the driver’s door clicked shut, he rushed around the beast in the hope that he could offer assistance. Not that he would be much help. He tried to imagine the mess Douglas would make of poor Dominic if he collapsed on top of him and shuddered.

He watched Douglas drop the packet of painkillers on the floor.

“Please don’t tell me that you’ve swallowed them all.”

His friend nodded.

“Oh no, are you insane? That was one super big packet, are you trying to kill yourself?”

Douglas started to laugh that quickly turned into a coughing fit. Dominic gasped and slapped him on the back.

“I’m okay! Jesus guy, stop being so brutal.”

Dominic placed his hands on his hips. “Are you going to tell me what you found to be so amusing now?”

Douglas leaned against the car door and took a deep breath. “I just wondered if you’ve ever nearly killed yourself by trying to swallow a big packet.”

Dominic tutted, “That’s rude.”

His friend grinned back at him then shrugged, “Maybe just little bit.”

He was super pleased to see the old mischievous glint back in his eyes. He hoped that his friend would be soon back to his old self.

“Come on, Domino,” he said, smiling. “You’ve got food to prepare. Don’t forget that its zombie night. So make sure that blender is on stand by in case any of the nearly dead forgets to put in their false teeth.”

He saluted Douglas and hurried across the carpark. One person who he was glad not to see was that carpark cleaner, Lester. That man made Dominic’s skin itch. Which is ironic as Lester had said exactly the same to him along with a number of equally horrible comments. According the Lester, all homosexuals were blasphemers to God, any men fancying other men ought to be put against a brick wall and shot.

He’d never told anyone else what that homophobic dickhead had said to him, unlike Lester, Dominic considered himself to be a nice guy and wouldn’t want to see him get into trouble. Even if he did deserve it.

The club door stood open, it took a little worry off his shoulders, knowing that somebody had got here before them. He hoped it would be Marlene. Douglas may be acting more like himself but he’d still feel better if she could persuade the big man to see a doctor.

Walking into the familiar surroundings of the club’s lobby just had to be the favourite part of his day. His co-workers never understood his why he relished the first few minutes of his shift. They repeated the same old phrases day in day out, like ‘it was back to the old grindstone’ or ‘same shit, different day’ Marlene muttered that one at least once a week.

They saw their jobs as a chore, a task to be endured, a boring job that just paid the bills and gave them a bit of spending money at the end of the week. His view differed, he saw each day as a fresh challenge, yet another opportunity to tickle the taste-buds of another fresh customer. Dominic knew that his menus rivalled any of the big hotels in the area for variety and quality and not forgetting value for money. The exotic choices on his menus may not have been as popular as he’d hoped but Dominic had never received any bad comments from anyone so far.

His big hope was that one day; a wandering food critic would find their way to the club and gasp in pleasant surprise when Dominic’s delicious food was consumed. Deep down in his heart though, his chances of being ‘discovered’ were pretty slim, he’d been here over twenty years and it hadn’t happened yet.

Dominic traced his finger along the framed Charles and Diana portrait that had been in that position since he’d first started here. He gazed at his still clean finger, the club may be in dire need of a revamp but at least it was clean and tidy. That was another reason not the drop that queer hating little man in the shit, at least he kept the club sparkling clean.

Douglas tapped him on the shoulders, “I see you’re admiring out future king. Charlie’s changed a bit since that was taken.”

Dominic nodded, “Unlike our lobby.”

“Well, if Charlie chose tonight to make a surprise visit, he’d fit right in. I love zombie night you know, it’s the only night in the week when I don’t get much trouble from the punters.”

He wished the others wouldn’t call them that, it was so demeaning. Speaking of surprise visits, if his food critic chose tonight to sample his wares, Dominic just knew he’d be super impressed. The older folk weren’t so keen of the exotic but that didn’t matter as he made the best steak and kidney pies in Yorkshire. He didn’t mind dampening down his creative tendencies for them, at least they gave him some appreciation. Unlike a certain other older person currently sat at home and waiting for her fish and chips.

He pushed open the door leading into the lounge and all thought of food preparation flew out of his head when he saw the scene in front of him. Dominic grabbed the edge of the door to stop him from collapsing.

Dominic pressed the palm of his hand into the edge of the door and silently hummed the theme tune to the Magic Roundabout while his eyes fed him images of all that blood, the body, and his workers huddled around it. Douglas pushed past him and rushed over to the boy lying on the two round tables. Dominic knew the boy was dead, he just had to be, alive people don’t look so grey and they certainly don’t have dents like that in his head, it looked as though someone had smacked a galia melon with a hammer.

He edged along the wall towards the toilet. Whilst watching Douglas search for a pulse on the body. His stomach had just decided that it didn’t want his last meal of porridge followed by strawberries and cream. He briefly wondered what it would look like when it shot out of his mouth. Douglas moved away from the boy’s damaged head and Dominic knew exactly what it was going to look like.

The sanctuary of the gents were now just a few metres away. He thought of pretty flowers and plain brown cardboard. He thought of anything that would stop the urge to vomit.

Douglas still had his hands on the boy’s skin. That was just too disgusting for words, how could he even contemplate going near it? His friend moved again and Dominic got his first clear view of the boy’s face. Oh dear lord, he’d seen him before, just a few days ago. Dominic had caught the lad going through the food bins in the compound. He’d rushed back into the kitchen to grab a piece of leftover chicken pie for him but the lad had scarpered by the time he had returned.

“Dominic? Could you join us, please?”

He jerked his head up, Dominic had been so focussed on the kid, he had no idea that the others were staring at him.

Bernard coughed loudly, “In your own time of course.”

Oh heavens, his boss actually wanted him to get close to that body. Bernard had his ‘I will not be defied’ hat on. His legs moved on their own volition. He silently chanted ‘I’m a brave soldier’ and went with his lower limbs.

“Before you query, we didn’t do it, this dirty sack of shit was found here.” he said. “So now, Dominic, all of us as a group now have a little problem to resolve.”

He heard the words but struggled to make sense of them. His eyes were still on the body. due to his chosen career path, he had become rather ‘intimate’ with the qualities on dead flesh. If he leaped over his psychological repugnance to dead people, he knew that meat was meat, it didn’t matter which animal it came from. This lump of ‘meat’ just didn’t look dead to him, he couldn’t explain why.

When he looked up, Dominic saw that they were still staring at him.

Marlene was the first to look away, “We need to call the police.”

“You mean they haven’t been called yet?” asked Dominic, he licked his dry lips and stared at his boss, “Bernard, why not?”

Bernard shrugged and opened his hands, “I just want you all to dwell on the consequences first.”

“What the fucking hell are you talking about?” shouted Marlene. “Jesus, Bernard! It’s a dead body, we just have to call the cops, it’s what you do.”

Dominic had never heard Marlene swear before, tonight was turning into a series of firsts. First dead body, first time he’d heard Marlene use the ‘f’ word.

“Have you any idea of the damage it would cause to the club if it got out that a body had been found here? Christ lass, haven’t we had enough shit this week? Why should I let some stupid fucking smackhead kill off what little custom we have? It’s not our fault that he chose our club to die in is it?”

Dominic watched Marlene’s face change as the ramifications of what he was proposing sunk in.

“Have you lost your mind Bernard?” she uttered.

Dominic noticed that Marlene already had a phone in her hand.

“If the police are called, they’ll shut us down. Come on, Marlene, you help me with the books. You know as well as I that just one night of no trade will ruin the club. We’ll all be out of a job, it’s as simple as that.”

Dominic tried to imagine what he would have done if he’d have got here first, apart from scream and probably faint. “Was he lying here when you got to the club?”

Bernard shook his head, “No, the boy found it in the cupboard.”

Thomas turned bright red as everyone directed their gaze at him. Why was Dominic not surprised that he would be the one to find the body?

“Listen to me all of you. All I’m asking is a little support, it’s not like you’ll be taking any risk, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s my club, my responsibility. All I ask is for someone to help me put the body in the boot of my car. Come on, are you honestly prepared to lose your job just because some homeless druggie chose my club to pop his clogs?”

How on earth would he be able to look after his mother if he lost the job? The chances for him to find work in another kitchen at his age were from slim to zero. There was no way that he’d be able to feed her, not with her fussy ways. They’d lose the house, that was a certainty. Oh heavens, he’d have to put her in a nursing home and he’d have to find a flat or bedsit. That upheaval would probably kill them both off.

“I’m in Mr. Crowley but there’s no way that I’m going to touch that body.” He said.

Dominic turned away to avoid that look of hurt and betrayal etched upon Marlene’s face, he’d have to sit her down later on and explain a few facts to her, maybe then she wouldn’t be so quick to judge him.

Chapter nine

Dean Middleton replaced the lid back on his blue pen, he popped it back into the colour coded stationary holder and sat back in his office chair. It had taken him just over nine minutes to compile his list of twenty three activities he could do whilst his wife, Marie, was over in Halifax visiting her mother.

She wasn’t due back until tomorrow morning, she’d even taken their two children. Having the house to himself was such a rare opportunity, it opened up so many possibilities.

Dean leaned over and looked at the top item on his things to do list, he’d underlined the title with a red felt tip pen that belonged to his daughter. Dean really shouldn’t have stolen it in the first place but he really needed an alternate colour. She wouldn’t miss it, he drew little comfort in knowing that Jasmine wouldn’t even realise that it had gone missing. His daughter, just like her mother was such a messy individual. He’d seen land fill tips that were tidier than her bedroom. Thankfully at least his son, Sebastian had inherited some of his father’s obsession with keeping an orderly life.

The top item on the list was to set up his 360 in the living room. Just the thought of playing Call of Duty on the fifty six inch television made him go weak at the knees. He could even invite Bill and Adam over. Have a few drinks, play a few games and generally have a bit of a giggle. Just like they used to do before he was married.

He got up to put the kettle on. One of the disadvantages of being home alone was that, he had nobody to make him cups of tea. As he gazed out onto the manicured lawn, he thought back to before his days of domestication. He couldn’t actually remember one occasion when he was able a have a bit of a giggle with his two friends without him becoming stressed over how much mess they were creating. Those two had still to find a couple of nice girls and settle down.

He poured boiling water into his cup. Those two found girls every week but he doubted that they were very nice or wanted to settle down. Come to think of it, they’d probably be getting ready to go out on the pull even now. Somehow he thought that his offer of watching him destroy all his online friends wouldn’t really be good enough to tempt them over.

Maybe he could go out with them instead. Dean hadn’t written that option down on his list. It had been years since he’d been out with his friends, Marie wasn’t really the type to want to go clubbing, she was happy with her soaps and her knitting. It was odd how married life changed people, before he met his darling wife, she went out to the nightclubs at least twice a week.

He sighed and carried his cup of tea over to his chair; perhaps he should continue assessing his activity list. Number two on his list showed plenty of promise. For nearly five years, he’d been promising himself to climb up into the loft and give the place a real good tidy out. He knew that activity would take him all night. Dean doubted that he get that much tidying done though, his vast collection of marvel comics was up there. Once he’d dug them out, he just knew that he’d have to skim through at least one copy. One would inevitably lead to another, and before he knew he’d be reading the all, nothing would be able to move him.

His cup nearly slipped through his fingers when he heard the thunderous staccato banging on his front door. He carefully placed the cup down on the table and hurried through the hall. Whoever it was, it sounded urgent, perhaps it was the police. His heart beat a little faster. He knew how easily distracted his wife was whilst driving. She was always turning around to shout at the kids in the back seat. One mistake would be all it took.

Pray it isn’t them, he thought.

They banged on the door once more. He could almost see the wood bouncing in the frame. Dean fumbled with the key in the lock, his racing mind kindly showed him a few more images of what his wife and kids could look like after a head on collision with another car.

When he did finally get the door unlocked and open, Dean was rather taken aback to find a large gentleman wearing a very smart suit stood on the porch and smiling at him.

“Greetings,” he said. “My name is Talbot Field and this is not your lucky night.”

“I’m sorry,” spluttered Dean, “but whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.”

He tried to shut the door but the big man had wrapped his hand around the handle. He couldn’t budge it an inch.

“Look, could you let go of the door please? Like I just said, I don’t want to buy anything.”

The man pushed open the door and stepped into his house. “Your ordered mind drew me here, Dean, like a moth to a flame. You should thank your lucky stars that you cannot hear the others. They pollute the airwaves with all their disordered chaos.”

Dean saw the insanity in the man’s eyes, he also saw his own demise if he didn’t do something. He took his eyes off the man for one moment and looked over to the coat hooks just behind the stranger. The third hook from the left hung Marie’s umbrella. His old army overcoat covered it but he knew that it was still there.

Dean left go of the banister and crept a little closer to his target. What the hell was the man doing? He appeared to have lost interest in Dean, like he’d zoned out or something, he just stared through the open doorway into the kitchen.

His hand brushed against the overcoat, he could feel the object through the thick material. That metal spike on the end of the umbrella would do a lot of damage. The man then jumped as if he’d just been given an electric shock. He slowly turned his head, that grinning madman began to laugh. Dean felt like a little kid with his hand caught in the biscuit jar.

Dean felt an itch at the back of his head. The itch grew in intensity until he thought the inside of his skull was on fire. Then the pain abruptly vanished, leaving him feeling as sick as a dog.

The madman nodded, “I ought to stick that brolly up your fucking arse.”

His arm shot forward, the man’s palm smacked into Dean’s chest and he flew back against the stairs.

“Take a pew.” Said the man.

The nausea was mild compared to the bruising that his back and arms must have sustained when he hit the sharp edges of the steps.

“There are people are dying just a mile from here, yet those dead people refuse to lie down.”

He jerked his head up; the movement reminded Dean of a lizard about to catch an insect. The man barked out braying laughter, Dean shrank back against the steps, he wished he had a gun.

“Oh dear, that’s priceless, it really is. The authorities think they have the infection contained.”

He thrust his hand into Dean’s face. He saw the bite mark and the ragged, bloody hole and everything clicked. This poor bastard had been bitten, probably by a dog judging by the mess, the wound was obviously infected and he was delirious. The man needed medical attention; heaven knows what must be swimming through his blood stream.

The man leaned closer, “You’re right there Dean, I have been bitten but you’re wrong about it being a dog. I have been infected though, what I can’t work out is why am I not dead and shuffling around and craving for fresh human meat.”

What the fuck was going on? He didn’t even open his mouth yet the madman knew exactly what he was thinking, he should have twigged it earlier. How could he have known his name or about that umbrella?

The imminent chaos that threatened to overwhelm Dean’s ordered and tidy life, leapt like a starving hound onto the tiny crack of insanity that had appeared on the surface of his mind.

He closed his eyes and focussed on his list. Mind readers did not exist; it was a fiction, a fantasy, ridiculous concepts like that didn’t belong in Dean’s world. He went through each activity one by one and re-listed them in accordance to possible enjoyment levels.

Dean reached ‘checking down the back of the sofa for money’ when he realised that he could hear no sound. He plucked up the courage to open his eyes.

“There you are,” said Talbot. “I’d thought that I’d lost you there.”

“Please go away,” whimpered Dean. “I’ve done nothing to harm you and there isn’t anything valuable in the house.”

Dean felt tears welling up, he cringed back even further when the man reached across and caressed his cheek.

“Nothing valuable you say? You undersell yourself Dean. Haven’t you worked it out yet? It’s you that I want. I’m going to end your life.”

Number seven on his list bubbled up to the surface, he had always fantasised about wearing a pair of Marie’s stockings. He wanted to found out how they’d feel in his bare legs. He pushed every other thought out of his mind and concentrated on those denier ten black hold-ups that she kept in her top drawer for special occasions.

When Talbot leaned in a little closer, he kicked him as hard as he could between the legs, the man groaned aloud before falling back against the front door. Dean scrambled up the stairs and ran into his son’s bedroom.

His eyes automatically zeroed in on Sebastian’s bedside cabinet, he stifled a scream when Dean saw the object he craved had gone. Sebastian had promised him that he wouldn’t take his phone to grandma’s. Dean wasn’t worried that he’d lose it, the boy always looked after his possessions. His sister had been pestering to borrow it ever since she had lost hers.

That mobile phone shaped black outline seemed to mock him, he rushed out of the bedroom and looked down the stairs, the man had gone. Could he have really fled the house? He jumped when he heard a kitchen cupboard slamming shut.

The man was still here, oh Christ! What was he going to do now? Dean knew that he should have leapt over his prone form after he’d kicked him in the bollocks and ran out of the door. Why on earth did he have to run up the bloody stairs?

Dean rushed back upstairs and back into the boy’s bedroom, thinking that maybe he could escape through the window. He noticed that Sebastian hadn’t confined his drawing skills to the phone. He’d drawn an outline around every movable object in the bedroom with a thick black felt tip pen.

He soon discovered that the window option was no bloody good, even if he could squeeze through the tiny window, he’d break both his legs when he dropped to the concrete below.

“The black pen.” He muttered.

Sebastian must have stolen the pen from his sister’s bedroom.

“Like father like son.”

The chances were pretty high that Jasmine will have dropped her phone in there too and just couldn’t be bothered to look for it. Dean moaned when he heard heavy footsteps along the hallway. He rushed into Jasmine’s bedroom and slammed the door shut.

His daughter had asked Marie a few weeks ago for a lock on the door to stop Sebastian from barging in. At the time he’d been against the idea. Dean was so glad that he’d given in. He slammed the bolt home and slid to the floor, leaning against the door.

Dean wasn’t an idiot, he knew it wouldn’t stop that man from getting in here but it may buy him enough time to find her phone and call for help. His hopes of a quick result died like a spluttering candle when he realised just how much of a momentous task he had ahead of him.

Her bedroom really did resemble a land fill tip this evening, it looked like a tornado had ripped through the room.

The man was now coming up the stairs, Dean heard him humming to himself. Oh Christ, what was he going to do? If he moved, the man would be able to barge through this door.

Oh, this would be impossible. There was too much mess for his mind to process, it was information overload.

The man knocked on the door twice in quick succession. “Hello in there. I feel for you, Dean I really do. I’m sorry to put you through all this upset. I know that you won’t believe this but I’m here to help you, now open this door.”

“Leave me alone.” Dean whispered.

“That’s not going to happen. Look, I’m sorry for saying that I was going to kill you; I didn’t mean to say it like that’ It was just a slip of the tongue.” He laughed. “You and I are so alike.”

Dean’s fevered eyes darted from one discarded item to the next. He spotted the special edition Barbie that Jasmine had pestered him to buy for her. It had been stuffed into a shoe, the left arm was missing. All of her drawers had been pulled open and the contents thrown around the room, scattered like autumn leaves.

His heart beat quickened when he spotted a small rectangular bulge in the back pocket of one of her jeans.

“We’re on the brink of war, Dean. The dead have begun to rise, your kind don’t have a fucking chance. I’m offering you salvation, an opportunity to join the winning side. It’s either that or join their ranks.”

The man was a raving lunatic with delusions of grandeur. Dean was ready to move, he could have that phone in his hands in a matter of seconds.

“Put those naughty thoughts back inside your head, Dean. If you do go for your daughter’s phone, I’ll break through this door and snap your neck. I don’t want to do that but don’t think I won’t. Now let’s stop all this nonsense and open the door.”

This man was reading him like a book, Dean felt like he’d stripped him naked.

“Are we close to making a decision yet? You have no concept about just how hard it is for me to stay so pleasant. This emotion really is alien to my nature. You see, my normal approach to situations like this is less of the calm negotiations and more of the violent threats.”

If Jasmine had left her phone on, the battery would be flat anyway. He saw himself throwing her dead phone against the wall just before the man smashed through the door.

“Allow me to demonstrate, Dean. Marie has taken Sebastian and Jasmine to see their grandma in Halifax. Would you like me to tell you where she lives? Would you like me to explain what I’ll do to your pretty blonde daughter after I’ve violated your wife?”

Dean slowly got to his feet and unbolted the door. He took one last look at those jeans and turned the handle.

“You’re a brave man,” said Talbot as the door swung open, “and loyal to your family. many men would have called my bluff.”

The grinning man held out a glass full of what looked like strawberry milkshake, “I’m really excited, I hope this works, it’ll be an honour to have you by my side.”

Dean reluctantly took the glass.

“Drink it. Don’t go soft on me now Dean, not after I’ve worked so hard to build up our relationship.”

Talbot jangled a set of car keys in front of his face. “Thirty eight Pellon Avenue.”

Dean prayed for forgiveness and lifted the glass to his mouth.

“Good lad. I hope you don’t mind but I emptied that cup full of cold tea out and gave it a good wash. There’s also some red fluff half way up the stairs. I picked as much as I could up but we’ll have to give it a good vacuum before we leave.”

The man had used what was remained of that carton of skimmed milk in the fridge to disguise the other ingredient. It wasn’t a very effective disguise; Dean knew blood when he tasted it.

“You’re doing very well Dean, there’s only it bit left, it’s nearly over.”

The man abruptly rushed forward, his arm snapped out and Dean felt the back of his head pulled down. Talbot took the glass out of Dean’s hand.

“I’m really sorry but there’s a few lumpy bits at the bottom and I’m afraid that you’d spit them out.”

He tilted the glass up and Dean watched a few milk coated blood clots flowing down the side of the glass, the lumps slid down his throat like they had a life of their own. Talbot released him and he dropped to the floor.

“That wasn’t too bad was it. Now all we do is wait. Perhaps you would …”

The man’s speech cut off in mid sentence. Dean lifted his head and watched Talbot’s mouth, it was like watching the television with the sound muted. Had he just gone deaf? His curiosity was pushed away when his whole body began to cramp up; he tried to pull his knees up into his stomach. Oh Jesus, what the hell was happening to him? The stuff in that milk wasn’t normal blood, he could feel it soaking though his body and spreading out like a cancer. The cramp had begun to ease a little, a deep numbing coldness replace the pain, seeping out from his stomach.

Dean looked up at the grinning idiot, he wanted to beg him not to hurt his family but the words failed to come out. He jerked as if he’s been shocked, the man had just answered him but he hadn’t opened his mouth.

Don’t you fret my brother, I have no interest in your family and in a few more moments, neither will you.

What’s the hell? I can hear your thoughts, Talbot.

The man helped him to get back on his feet, he felt so weak.

As I can hear yours. Is the coldness worrying you?

Yes, it is a little.

The sensation will soon pass. Your strength will also return, in fact you will be stronger, everything about you will be enhanced. You’re in the midst of a wonderful change, you may feel a little discomfort as your human body begins to shut down and die but it will be the last ache you’ll ever feel.

Dean turned around and walked back into his daughter’s messy bedroom, it felt odd that the state of the room no longer bothered him. Talbot was correct about caring for his family too, the word ‘daughter’ had lost its significance. Dean pictured Jasmine in his mind and found that he felt nothing for the girl.

He felt Talbot’s hands rest on his shoulders. “I’m your family now.”

He gently pushed Dean closer to the window, “Look at them all down there, scurrying about like lost ants, they have no clue that their dominance on this planet is about to end.”

Dean put his hand on his chest, a little shocked to discover that his heart had just stopped beating.

Am I dead?

Talbot nodded, “Does that bother you?”

Dean shrugged, “I’m curious, if I’m dead then why an I suddenly so hungry?”

Talbot leaned even closer until his lips brushed against Dean’s ear, “What do you see when you look down on there?” he whispered.

Dean smiled and licked his lips. I see food.

Then let’s go and eat.

Chapter ten

The distressed look plastered all over Thomas’s face told Marlene just what the news would be. She watched him for a couple of seconds, weaving through the empty tables and chairs before Marlene turned away. She opened the cash register and filled the drawers with change. Not that they’d need so much, loose change was one thing that the old folk always carried. By the end of the night, they’d need a bloody wheelbarrow to take the money to the safe.

“Marlene, I can’t find him, and I’ve looked everywhere. Do you think I should go and tell Mr. Crowley?”

She shut the drawer and picked up a towel, “Only if you want him to scream at you. I’ll tell him when he comes back in.” She threw him the towel, “Go wipe all the tables again.”

“I’ve already done that Marlene.”

“Well go do it again, look busy lad. If the boss comes back in and sees you stood about, he’ll explode, now go get gone.”

Bernard had just left the club when he heard the sound of the coach pulling in. He would no doubt play the role of the gracious host, full of winning smiles and gentle compliments. It was his belief that if he had the old folks smiling and laughing before they entered the club, they’d be more willing to spend money.

Bernard only cared about two thing, making lots of money and sex. The only reason that their boss would care about Douglas going missing was that he wouldn’t have to pay him a wage.

“Thomas! Does Dominic know where he is?”

“He doesn’t have a clue either. He suggested that he may have gone for a bit of a lie down. Dominic said he’d been feeling a little off.”

Marlene still remembered that guilty look in that man’s eyes when Bernard and Douglas had removed the body. Her initial anger at the man for sucking up to the boss so bloody quickly had subsided by that time. She wondered how long it would be before he approached her, feeling the desperate need to explain himself. She’d known Dominic for a long time, and Marlene knew that he must have had good reason to go along with Bernard’s plan. She just wished that she could have been stronger. It should be her who approached Dominic to explain why she had allowed Bernard to bully her into going along with it. Still, that was all water under the bridge now, what’s done is done. That’s how Bernard would see it, he wouldn’t care about the moral implications. Come morning he’d take that body to someone he knew. Money would pass hands. Favours would be owed and that body would just disappear.

Marlene tried to put the episode behind her and focused on the here and now like the fact that they were down to three members of staff. Angela still hadn’t turned up. Goodness knows where she was. Marlene had rung her mobile three times so far. Marlene was going to be rushed off her bloody feet in a minute. She kept glancing over at the door, hoping to see that girl rushing in and apologizing for being late. Thomas wasn’t till-trained yet and Bernard wouldn’t bloody help her.

Shit, the doors did bang open but it wasn’t Angela. She forced a smile on her face and watched with resignation as Bernard led the old folks like the pied piper towards Marlene and the bar. At least the orders would take her mind away from their grim discovery earlier.

As the first customer nodded to her, she suddenly wondered why Bernard’s car had been parked in the next street; he only did that when he was going to use the hidden bedroom. Something else had happened here tonight. Marlene was sure of it.

“Hello darling, give us a pint of Tetley’s please.”

She put on her best smile and set to work pouring the first of her many pints for tonight. Marlene watched them file along the bar. She couldn’t believe it when Bernard joined her. He winked at Marlene and got the next customer. Wonders will never cease. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him working behind here.

“I take it, there’s no sign of Angela?”

Marlene gave the man his pint and took the next order. “There’s no sign of the girl and Douglas has disappeared now.”

“He did seem a little subdued when he helped me put that carpet into the back of my car. I expect he’ll be in the toilet or something.”

What the bloody hell was he up to? In the space of ten minutes, he’d changed from the foul tempered ogre into Mr. Jolly. He served one more customer then abruptly left the bar when the coach driver walked into the lounge, Bernard was all smiles as he approached the man. She sighed and wondered just what shady and underhand deal he’d done now. Marlene guessed that she wouldn’t see her surprise helper again tonight, she handed over a gin and tonic to a loud woman wearing a loud dress who hadn’t stopped sighing and tutting. Marlene deliberately overcharged the bitch.

This crowd didn’t seem to be shifting. Her hopes went up when she saw the doors opening, she just prayed that it would be Angela. Marlene couldn’t see who had come through the doors due to the crowd of grey haired people demanding her attention. Someone did come behind the bar to help out, but it wasn’t Angela, nor was it Bernard.

“Thomas, what are you doing?”

He flashed her a sunny smile, “I’m helping you out.”

“But we haven’t trained you up on the till yet.”

Thomas shrugged, “Have you any idea just how many bar jobs I’ve had? I could do this in my sleep.” He nodded to an impatient looking man wearing an orange baseball cap. “Yes sir, what can I get you?”

Marlene shook her head, grinning. Maybe the night would turn out okay after all.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, your act has turned up. I sent him over to the changing rooms.”

She nodded, “Thanks Thomas.”

That was a bloody relief, Marlene felt some of the weight piled on her shoulders lift. Apparently, the act was a well known country and western singer from London. She ought to be safe with country and western, old people loved stuff like that. He’d explained to her on the phone that his voice had been compared to the great man in black himself. Marlene didn’t have a clue what he was talking about; she just hoped that he wasn’t going to start doing a Darth Vader impression in the middle of his act.

Marlene saw Bernard calling her over, “Will you be okay here for a minute?”

“Sure, no problem.”

She served another customer then squeezed past him. She was impressed. He wasn’t lying when he said he could do bar work in his sleep. “Why didn’t you tell us that you’d served behind a bar before?”

He winked at her, “I was saving that piece of news for a day like this,”

Marlene grinned to herself, the sly little monkey. The lad wasn’t as green as he was cabbage looking after all.

As she approached Bernard’s table, the coach driver stood up and shook her boss’s hand. He looked her up and down, pausing when he got to chest level. He winked then made his way over to the bar. Jesus, Marlene felt like he’d just mentally raped her. She took an instant dislike to the man, what a creep. Was he really the coach driver? He must be, she couldn’t think of any other reason why he’d wear that silly hat. The man looked like an old fashioned milk man or a bus conductor, he looked like a prat.

Marlene watched him push through the crowd to get to the front of the bar. She hoped that Thomas would ignore him. She shook her head and placed both hands on the wooden table, suddenly realising that she hadn’t put out the beer mats.

“Can this not wait boss? We’re swamped at the bar.”

She knew that she was pushing her luck by giving him the attitude but after what he’d put her through tonight, Marlene couldn’t really give a shit. It’s not like he could sack her and even if he did try that one on, one anonymous phone call to the police would soon clip his wings.

Bernard actually smiled at her. “Don’t you worry about the bar, sweetheart. It looks to me that Thomas has everything covered. Now please, take a seat.”

Marlene sat down, more in shock than anything else. Bernard had never referred to her as sweetheart in all the years she’d worked for him. She wondered if he’s just been given a personality transplant, more than likely, he was up to something.

“I want your honest opinion, what do you think of that coach driver?”

She hadn’t expected to be asked that question. “Well my first impression is that he’s a bit of a dickhead, he reminds me of Lester but just not as creepy. That stupid hat makes him look like a milkman.”

Bernard laughed, “I can see him running down the street holding a broken milk bottle in each hand and shouting for Mr. Grimsdale.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing, forget it. It’s from a film from before your time. I agree, the man is a complete arse but I still want you to keep him sweet for me tonight.”

Marlene turned and watched the man give Thomas a hard time.

“Look Marlene, it’s not like I’m asking you to sleep with him, just keep him happy that’s all.”

He reached across the table and grabbed both her hands, “Congratulations by the way.”

She whipped her head back round wanting to slide her hands out of his grip.

“I’ve just made you up to club manager, you’ll receive a nice pay rise and we’ll be taking on a few more staff.”

“What are you talking about? The club is going broke remember or have you forgotten your little speech earlier on? You know, the one that almost gave poor Dominic a heart attack.”

He giggled, “Yeah, I remember his frightened bunny look well. Well that milkman over there has just had his contract changed from one day to five days. See if you can guess where he’s going to bring the crumblies when the bingo shuts.”

“Do you trust him?”

“Of course I don’t bloody trust him, but that doesn’t matter, the percentage he receives from the takings will ensure that he keeps bringing them here. Come on Marlene, look happy for fuck’s sake. Pretty soon you won’t be able to move in here for zombies.

Chapter eleven

With his index finger, Dean drew a smiley face in the condensation on the passenger car window.

Very artistic Dean, a portrait to rival da vinci himself.

He turned his head and grinned at Talbot, “Thank you, does it not bother you though that we’ll probably be the last generation who knows who da vinci was?”

Talbot slowed down and stopped behind a white transit van when the traffic light changed to red. “No, of course it doesn’t bother me, why should it? Are you still getting twinges from your past life?”

Dean shook his head.

“Then why are you even asking?”

“I’m still trying to get to grips with these new urges. One moment, I’m flying through the clouds on a wave of ecstasy and the next thing I know, I feel like the whole world has just fallen on me.”

Talbot followed the flow of traffic then smiled to himself before turning off onto a side road. He pulled in beside a late night supermarket and stopped the car.

“You’ve just been re-born Dean. Birth is always painful. Remember, we are the first of a new race, just look at it as a learning experience. Just go with the flow.”

Just having you beside me helps Talbot.

Likewise, now, speaking of new experiences, how hungry are you?

Dean looked over at the supermarket. “Not for anything they have in there.” He grinned. Well, apart from that young man stacking the shelves with jars of coffee.”

Talbot sighed, “Is that a yes or a no?”

I’m ravenous, you know I am. Dean skimmed across the surface of his companion’s mind. He watched himself tear into the teenage boy who just chose that moment to wander past Dean’s house. It had been his first kill, his teeth had ripped though the veins and tendons in his neck before the boy could utter a single shriek Dean had turned into a monster.

Not a monster, you’re a predator.

Dean pulled out and sat back, “You’re hungry too, Talbot. I could feel your deep gnawing ache. You watched me as I sated myself so I can understand you being ravenous but why do I still feel it too?”

“It’s the only characteristic that we share with the risen, the only difference is that we are able to control our urges.”

Dean found his gaze drawn back to the shop assistant, he had begun to salivate, his hand reached for the door handle, “I don’t think I can control it.”

Talbot slapped his hand away. Focus on my thoughts brother. That bag of meat isn’t going anywhere. I’ve brought you here for another reason.

What other reason could there be? Dean pushed Talbot away and threw his body at the car door. He just had to get to that man. He could feel his teeth crunching through flesh and bone. The man would probably try to fight him off, oh God, he fucking hoped so. Just hearing him squeal like a piglet would ignite his already inflamed desires.

The car door flew open but the seat belt still held him captive. He didn’t bother going for the release button, his hands were shaking too much, he’d rip it in two instead. Dean grabbed the belt with both hands. Oh fuck, he could actually feel that shelf stacker’s blood running down his chin.

The other man put his big hands on Dean’s shoulders, he could hear him screaming into his ear. Dean growled, and told him to back off, nobody was going to stop him from taking his meal, not even Talbot.

The man pulled him back into his seat and before Dean could react, Talbot thrust his bare arm against Dean’s snarling mouth. Dean sank his teeth into the flesh. His bite didn’t release crimson life fluid, the taste of mud and rotting cabbage filled his mouth instead.

Dean’s blood lust cut off like a running bath tap.

“What the bloody hell just happened?”

Talbot removed his arm, they both watched as the bite marks filled up with a black gelatinous fluid, the stuff solidified in an instant then changed colour to match his skin tone.

“Here endeth the first lesson, for both of us.”

“Are you going to tell me or what?”

Talbot pointed at the windscreen. “We just made first contact with our enemy.”

He leaned forward and gazed into the black alleyway, he saw nothing aside from a couple of trade bins and a pile of black bags stacked up beside them, the shadows consumed everything else.

Close your eyes Dean and reach out with your mind.

He did as instructed, he found it difficult to focus ahead, Talbot’s own mind acted like a lodestone. Dean then felt Talbot take a deep breath and Dean’s mind flew towards that alleyway like a racehorse released from its cage. He gasped and recoiled back in revulsion but he just wasn’t quick enough. Dean gagged when he felt as though his mouth had just been filled with maggot infested meat.

His eyes shot open and he slammed his back into the car seat. “Oh Jesus, I need a hot bath.”

“They are not pleasant creatures.”

“Those things somehow amplified my blood lust didn’t they?”

Talbot nodded, “There’s only three of them down there. Can you imagine what a room full of those disgusting creatures could do to our minds?”

Dean shivered, “Wait a minute, why were you not affected?”

“I was affected. Jesus, Dean, their ice-cold tendrils wrapped around my mind as soon as I opened up. The only reason that I had better control was because I knew that they were down there in the first place.”

Dean could still sense them trying to find a way in.

“The humans pose no real threat to us, Dean. They are just a huge flock of stupid sheep. Our danger lies in that alley. Those things are a disease, a fucking plague.”

He watched the three of them shamble out of the alley, he blinked and shook his head in confusion, there were four of them now. He saw a middle-aged woman wearing a ripped and dishevelled business suit emerge from behind one of the bins. She hurried to join the others.

“They followed her in there a few minutes before we got here. Three has now become four, if we don’t stop them, those four will soon become a multitude.” He stared at Dean. “Even if we do stop them, it’s already too late; the outbreak is in full swing. Come morning, there’ll be hardly any sheep left in Bradford.”

Dean could see fear in his companion’s slate grey eyes.

You are right my brother. I’m fucking terrified.

“Well let’s make sure that at least these four won’t be able to recruit anymore for their army.”

I wonder how they’ll react when they see us.

“Does it matter, Talbot? We’re stronger and faster than those dirty creatures. They have no defence against us, their bites won’t turn us into them.”

Talbot opened his door, “Then let us experience lesson two together.”

Dean grinned at him, “Oh yes, let’s.”

As Dean opened his car door, Talbot tapped him on the shoulder.

Don’t forget your seat belt, brother.

The annoying scratching at the back of Dean’s mind, increased in intensity when he stepped out of the car. The sensation now felt like a million fleas trying to bite their way through his scalp, it made concentration almost impossible. The group of four split in two. Business suit and a ragged youth, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt lurched towards him. The mental attack eased a little.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Talbot stagger. All four must have concentrated on Dean when he stepped out of the car; it seemed that at least two of them had focussed their attack on Talbot. He shook his head, trying to clear away the mental fog. There was only one way to clear the entropy. Dean launched himself at the woman, instinct and blind hatred guided him, he snapped his fist back and then let it fly. Like a steel piston, his arm shot forward and smashed into the dead woman’s forehead. The bone shattered like a broken egg shell, the impact drove splinters of her skull deep into the woman’s brain. She dropped to the floor.

The fog choking his mental capacity now transformed into a light morning mist. He felt the youth’s torn finger nails clawing off strips of flesh off his neck. He turned and grabbed the offending limb and twisted it back. He heard the boy’s radius crack. He let it go then formed a club with both hands then brought it down on the boy’s head. He dropped like a stone.

Dean fell back against the car and took a deep breath. Talbot had dispatched the other two with equal ease. He could not help notice the look of worry on the man’s face.

Why the worry? They didn’t stand a chance.

“I agree brother but that was only four against two. What will we do when they multiply?”

He looked across to the supermarket, that man now had his horror struck face pressed against the window. “Let us discuss our problems over a meal.”

Talbot turned around and gave the man a little wave. “That sound’s like a most excellent idea.”

Dean hurried round the front of the car. The man saw were he was heading and darted away from the window. “Talbot,” he shouted, “He’s getting away.”

The other man just shrugged, “Where exactly is he going to go? I’ll tell you, he’ll hide in the toilets and try to call the police.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

Talbot stepped over the two bodies and joined Dean at the entrance. He grinned like a cheshire cat. “Because, brother, I took it from his mind just before he buggered off. I think that the police will be swamped with phone calls tonight, so his bleating will go unheard. We can dine at our leisure.”

Dean entered the shop, “That’s good because I can’t believe just how hungry I am.” He waited for Talbot to join him before he burst out laughing.

Care to share?

I hope he does get through to the cops, that way we won’t have to share the shopkeeper.

Talbot sighed, “Forget what I said earlier, you are a fucking monster.” He rushed down the centre aisle and stopped beside a stack of sliced loaves. Can you not sense the man’s terrified thoughts yet?

Dean joined him, he closed his eyes and opened his mind, he felt the man only through Talbot. His eyes snapped open.

“Fuck this,” he snapped, his frustration built up like steam in a pressure cooker. “It means nothing, it’s not like I won’t be able to find the bastard.”

Dean pushed past the man and ran over to a solid looking door with the words ‘Staff only’ stencilled above the wire reinforced window.

“Wait up Dean,” said Talbot, running after him. “Look, maybe the ability is just dormant inside you, We’re both still unsure about just what we can do.”

Dean spun around and glared at him. “Well, we’d better find out and pronto. According to you, the city will be overrun with risen by dawn.”

Talbot placed his arms on Dean’s shoulders. I feel your frustration brother but please let’s eat first.

“We talk now.”

Dean watched the man bite back his temper and he felt bad for pushing him.

“We could try to emulate the risen and bite them or we could try the procreation method.”

“You mean sex?”

Talbot grinned, “Why not? It’s another form in injection and I know just where to go.”

Dean nodded. “Okay brother, it’s a start. I’m sorry for snapping at you. It must be the bloodlust talking.”

“No harm done, now get that door open, he’s trying to climb through the toilet window.”

Dean pushed against the door, the frame on the other side splintered. He then heard a quiet gasp coming from the next closed door in the corridor. Talbot tried to push past him, Dean shook his head, no way, this kill was his. He formed his hands into claws and kicked the door open. He allowed the man one glance of his fate before he leaped on him.

Chapter twelve

The final batch of pies would be ready to leave the oven in another three minutes. Of course, in an ideal world, Dominic would then be getting ready to serve them out to his eager customers but that wasn’t going to happen. The old folks wouldn’t be tucking into his delicious treats for at least another hour. His beautiful pies would be degraded by having the humiliating experience of being microwaved. Dominic made the devil’s horns at the bank of five white microwave ovens stood on the far table. If he had his way, those things would be screened off so the rest of his kitchen equipment wouldn’t be able to see the horrible nasty things. Real chefs shouldn’t have to use those. Then again, real chefs didn’t have to work with Bernard.

Dominic switched the oven off and placed the pies on the wire trays to cool down with the ones he cooked earlier.

“May the great pie king forgive me for what I’ll have to do to you in just over one hour.”

The pie king would have an absolute fit if he found out about the pie crust as well. Mr. Crowley had bit of a pop at him last week regarding the mess the old folk were making with his pie crust. He ordered Dominic to ‘efing’ sort it.

He made the mistake of trying to tell the philistine that the only other option would be use short crust pastry but that would be like trying to boil lettuce. Bernard had unleashed that nasty little tongue of his. He’d told him to get off his high horse and to watch his lip. The man has also informed Dominic that he could have filled the pies with dog shit and the old bastards wouldn’t notice. He’d scurried away like a whipped hound while that nasty man telling him that he was seriously thinking of re-evaluating his kitchen budget.

He picked up his favourite knife and pricked one of the pies; the meaty odour that escaped really did smell divine.

“That beastly Bernard wouldn’t know a good pie if it hit him in the face.” he giggled, imagining the look of rage upon his face if that ever happened. “Of course the pie would just have to be filled with doggy poop first.”

If his old cookery teacher could see what he’d done to her secret recipe, the poor woman would no doubt spin in her grave. He shivered. Dominic didn’t want to think about dead people tonight or the fact that he was an accessory to concealing a major crime from the police.

His mother’s head would literally pop off if she ever found out. He pricked a couple more pies. “I’ll cut you a deal, if you keep quiet about my crime, I promise to use puff pastry in the next batch.”

“Are you talking to your food Dominic?”

He looked up, startled and saw Marlene leaning against the door, smiling at him. He didn’t even hear the woman come into his kitchen. Had she heard him calling their boss a beast? Oh lord, he’d better learn to keep his wits about him. Bernard would not have seen the funny side.

“Hi Marlene, is the place busy?”

She laughed, “Do you know something? The picture of Bernard wearing a pie made of shit is going to keep me amused for a long time.”

“Please tell me you won’t say anything to him. He’d be super cross if he found out.”

“Don’t worry Dominic; your secret is safe with me. I’m just wondering if Douglas has made an appearance yet.”

He shook his head, “You mean he’s still missing, have you looked outside?”

“Not yet, this is the first chance I’ve had to get away, I thought that I’d check in here first.”

Dominic shook his head, “I haven’t seen him since the incident.”

Marlene sighed, “There’s something else I want to say to you as well,” she said, looking at the floor. “And that’s I’m sorry.”

“What on earth have you got to say sorry for? You haven’t done anything.” He remembered the evil look she gave him when Bernard forced him to make that horrible choice, he decided not to mention that.

“This business with the body is still playing on my mind. Were we right to go with what Bernard said?”

“I don’t think that we were given much of a choice. I mean, imagine if we did go to the police. Sure, our consciences would be super clear but we would be looking for alternative employment.”

Dominic battled to keep his tears in check, “I mean, who the hell would give an old queer like me a job?”

Marlene ran over and put her hands on his cheeks, she lifted his head up. He could smell beer mixed with imperial leather soap on her fingers.

“Don’t you dare start feeling sorry for yourself. You are a brilliant cook you and everyone who works here knows it. The only reason people come to this shit hole in the first place is to eat your food.”

Dominic took a deep breath, “I’m sorry Marlene, it’s been a rather trying night.”

“You can say that again. Look Dominic, you shouldn’t let Bernard walk all over you. I know he’s a bastard but he’s not an idiot. He’d be insane to let you go and he knows it.”

That was easy for her to say, nothing scared Marlene, not even Bernard. He kissed her sweet smelling hands, “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Are you going to cheer up and stop talking to your food now?”

“Well, I promise not to utter a word to the pies but I’m not sure I’m ready to cheer up just yet?”

“Are you worried about Douglas?”

He nodded, “That and the boy we found.” He paused and licked his lips, unsure of whether he should continue. “I don’t think he was dead.”

She sighed, “Jesus, Dominic, that boy had definitely left the building. He had no heart beat or a pulse for crying out loud.”

Marlene grabbed his hand, “I’ll prove it.” She pulled him towards the door. “I need a bit of fresh air anyway, the odours from those pies is making me drool.”

He’d rather have his fingernails pulled out than look at that boy again, she was right of course, he had to be dead. Marlene pulled him out of his sanctuary and into the lounge.

Dominic’s sense of urgency left him when a sombre but melodic voice reached his ears. He stopped and leaned back against the empty bar and watched a young, dark haired man, sat on a metal stool on the stage. God, Dominic was in love. The boy was simply gorgeous. His fingers danced across the strings on an acoustic guitar whilst singing to the spellbound audience about The Man Comes to Town. Even Thomas has his head resting in his hands behind the bar, entranced by the young man’s voice.

Marline marched back to him. “I thought you were right behind me.”

“You’ve got a great act there,” he replied. “I’ve never seen them so quiet.”

“So he should be too, he cost enough.” She reached over the bar and punched Thomas’s arm. “Where’s the boss?”

He shrugged, “I think he went upstairs.”

“Well, if he asks where I am, tell him I’m in the kitchen.”

Thomas absently nodded, his eyes drifted back to the singer.

“Come on, Dominic. Let’s gets this over and done with.”

With reluctance, he allowed Marlene to drag him through the lounge and into the vestibule. He half-hoped that Bernard would choose that moment to walk into the lounge and demand to know where they were going. He was torn between going back to his kitchen where he felt safe, or staying here and drooling over that singer. He certainly had no desire to go look at a body in the car boot that may or may not be dead.

Marlene pulled him through the club doors and into the carpark. “I can’t believe how stiff you are.” She said.

“You’re the only woman who’s ever said that to me.” Oh good lord! Did he really say those words? Dominic wanted a large hole to appear under his feet and swallow him up. Marlene hadn’t shown any indication that she’d heard his vulgar little remark. He must be nervous, he needed to calm the heck down. He’ll be placing his hands on his hips and talking like Alan Carr if he wasn’t careful.

. Dominic couldn’t take his eyes off Bernard’s car. He’d parked the horrible thing, with its horrible, nasty secret on the other side of the carpark, a couple of spaces away from his friend’s beast.

“You’re right, Marlene. Of course you are.” He pulled his hand out of her grip and attempted to smile without feeling like a painted clown. Oh gosh, he could actually feel his own heart trying to escape out of his rib cage. “That boy is dead, he must be. Look, let’s just forget about it. I wonder where Douglas has gotten to.” He gazed from left to right. “He must be somewhere.”

Marlene let out a short bark of laughter, grabbed his wrist and pulled Dominic closer to her. “Nice try buggerlugs, but I wasn’t born yesterday. You ain’t getting out of it that easily, Mister. Douglas is probably sleeping off those tablets in his van or something. We’ll check after I show you the body.”

The car seemed to be grinning as if it mocked his apprehension. He imagined the car laughing at him and telling the beast and the coach that the woman had larger balls than he did.

Oh heavens, he really ought to pull himself together, it was bad enough talking to his pies without thinking that cars could talk too.

“Do you know what we should do, Dominic?”

“Go back inside where it’s warm?” he asked hopefully.

They’d reached their boss’s car, Dominic could almost hear that boy’s fingernails scratching against the inside of the boot.

“I meant after this.”

She took his other hand then gazed into his eyes, Marlene smiled, he tried to smile back and keep his eyes locked on hers. Was she coming onto him? At that precise moment, Dominic didn’t really care. All he wanted to do was to get away from this fucking car.

“I think we should to leave Bernard and his dodgy double dealings and have a go at setting up our own café.”

Dominic didn’t expect that one. “Are you serious?”

She nodded. “Bernard promoted me to club manager earlier.” She pointed over to the coach. “Apparently, he’s done a deal to ensure it will be zombie night every night.”

Dominic imagined an endless supply of microwaved pies coming past him on a conveyor belt. He physically shuddered. “Give me a little time go wrap my head around the idea, Marlene. I mean, don’t get me wrong here, I really is a super fantastic idea but it’s such a massive undertaking.”

“If it’s Bernard you’re afraid of, don’t worry. He’ll help us out.”

“I thought he’d be the last person who’d be happy about us abandoning him.”

She laughed, “Oh no, the bastard will bounce off the fucking walls when he finds out but to our faces, he’ll be all smiles and wish us lots of luck.” She tapped the side of her nose twice. “He’s a businessman. Hell, he’s probably wondering why we haven’t already thought of this before now. If the business takes off and I know it will. He’ll ride the wave of our success and tell everyone that he taught us everything we know. Imagine the damage we could cause to the club if he slagged us off right at the beginning”

Dominic’s heart sank when she produced a set of car keys from her pocket.

“You’ve thought of everything.”

“Thinking ahead is what I’m good at. Bernard isn’t the only one who has a good business head on his shoulders.”

She unlocked the driver’s door and climbed in. “I’ve been running the club more or less for a couple of years already.”

Dominic heard the catch to the boot unlock.

“I could probably run a small café with my eyes shut.”

He took a step back but he still wasn’t quick enough to be engulfed in the stench of wet decay that burst from the interior when the boot swung up. Dominic caught snippets of Marlene’s continuing conversation but couldn’t take any of it in.

His eyes were fixed on that body stuffed into the tiny space and the fact that it was moving. Douglas must have broken the boy’s arms and forced them behind his head so he could shut the boot.

Oh Jesus, and now the boy was trying to put them back.

Dominic’s bladder almost lost its contents when the boy lifted its head. He tried to shout Marlene’s name but only managed a single croak, as if his mouth had filled with desert sand. The boy climbed out of the boot space, without the aid of his arms, they flapped by his side like a pair of broken bird wings.

He moved his lead-filled legs back one more step as the body flopped onto the tarmac. Marlene hadn’t heard anything, the woman was still wrapped up in her fantasy. He could still hear the woman banging on about employing a waitress for this imaginary, blinking, flipping café they were going to set up.

“Get out of there!” he shouted.

Marlene looked around and so did the boy. Oh heavens, the boy couldn’t have noticed Dominic until he’d opened his big mouth. The boy changed direction and staggered toward him, it changed direction again when Marlene climbed out of the car.

“Marlene does not have bigger balls then me,” he murmured. Dominic charged the boy and slammed him into the side of the car. He looked at Marlene and then down at the boy flopping about on the floor like a just caught fish on a ship’s deck.

“Congratulations on your promotion, Marlene.”

“Oh crap, he’s still alive. I’ll apologise later.” She rushed over to the boy. Dominic grabbed her and pulled Marlene away.

“He needs our help, what are you doing?”

Dominic just gazed at her with an open mouth, was she having a joke with him?

“He’s dead,” he whispered. “He’s dead but he’s still moving about.”

The boy inched across the tarmac like caterpillar, toward their feet, groaning.

“He’s a zombie,” said Dominic, “a real zombie. Forget what I said, Marlene. Ring the blinking ambulance, then the police and while you’re at it, get the army too.”

Dominic pulled her back when his snapping teeth got a little too close for comfort.

She looked down in frustration at her phone display, “Ain’t going to happen, there’s no bastard signal.”

The boy used the side of the car to get back on his feet. Dominic tried to catch Marlene’s attention. He wanted to kick it back down but daren’t go anywhere near it.

“Oh Jesus,” she gasped. “Look at that.”

He thought Marlene was talking about the boy until Dominic followed her gaze. An old man lay on the floor on the other side of the road. A woman of similar age had straddled him, from where he stood, it looked as if the old woman was kissing the man.

“Oh my God! Are my eyes lying to me?”

“No, Dominic. That old bag is munching down on the man’s face. I think we’d better go find Bernard. He’ll know what to do.”

Dominic rushed forward and kicked the boy’s feet out from under him. He responded by groaning before rolling under the car.

Dominic reached over and grabbed Marlene’s hand. “How’s he going to respond when we tell him that it really is zombie night?”

Chapter thirteen

That last song almost brought tears to Edward Heart’s eyes. What an incredible singing voice. That boy on the stage was wasted in this dump. Now there was a lad who’d go far. In a few years time, he’ll be playing in packed out stadiums. With that magnificent voice coupled his rugged, film star looks. Edward guessed that he’d spend most of his time off stage, wading through a sea of adoring young girls throwing themselves at his feet.

He looked around the club at the numerous faces filled with rapture. Edward also guessed that more then a few of the ladies here wouldn’t turn down a chance to give the boy a grandmotherly hug and a bit more no doubt.

He casually took a sip of his bitter, perhaps now would be the opportune time to make his move. Edward couldn’t help but smile when he observed Edith Proctor leave her seat and make her way over to the ladies.

“Great minds think alike and all that.” he murmured.

Not that she had a great mind, but that didn’t matter, it wasn’t her mind that Edward lusted after. After taking a couple more sips and double checking to ensure that the others were still watching the singer, he left his own table and followed her into the toilet.

It would be nine months tomorrow since he started to have a relationship with Edith. Edward had trouble believing that it had lasted for so long. He really should have move on months ago. Folk grew careless in long affairs, one slip of the tongue or hasty look was all that was needed for that bunch of nearly dead in the lounge to start yapping. His poor wife would have heart failure if she ever found out.

Edward entered the toilets and watched that boy launch into another song through the closing gap between the door and the frame. The guilt of constantly betraying the woman he’d married over fifty years ago had vanished after just one week of seeing Edith, so why did the fear of getting caught still linger?

He stayed with his wife because it’s what you were supposed to do. These young ones who got married and then divorced a couple of years later just didn’t get it. Edward’s love for his wife may have fizzled out decades ago but he wouldn’t dream of leaving her. He wondered if she’d want to leave him if she did find out that her dutiful husband was the biggest over the hill love rat in the city.

Edward slowly turned and watched Edith acting out her sexy Marilyn Monroe and licked his lips. Where was the fun in turning himself into a pariah? Besides, after two score and ten years of doing this, he was pretty sure his wife must have an inkling that Edward wasn’t exactly whiter than white.

He opened his arms and allowed his latest bit on the side to embrace him. At fifty eight, Ethel was two decades his junior, that age gap didn’t really bother Edward but he knew that she dwelled upon it. She’d casually mentioned Edward trading her in for a younger model a couple of times, she’d tried to make it sound like a joke, an offhand quip but Edward wasn’t fooled, the poor woman meant it.

Of course, he’d just kissed the tip of his nose, smiled whilst stroking her hair and explained that there wasn’t anyone else and he’d never see any other woman. Some of that had been true. He’d already gone through all the other available regulars who went to their bingo, Ethel was the last one.

She snuggled into the side of his neck and sighed, then she gently nibbled on his ear lobe.

“I think you’ve entered the wrong toilets young man.”

Ethel struggled out of his embrace and traced a line down the front of his shirt and with painted nail.

“I’ll show you where they are if you like.”

Her finger rested on his crotch. Edward caught his breath when Ethel cupped his groin and squeezed.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he growled. Edward grabbed her shoulders and pulled the woman back into his embrace. “Let’s go back on the coach, nobody will disturb us on there.”

She frowned, “But it’s locked.”

Edward shrugged and patted his trouser pocket.

“Are the keys in there, Edward or are you playing with something else?”

“You have a dirty mind, woman. I bribed our driver to look the other way.”

She giggled, “I’m going to stuff my knickers down the side of Harold’s seat. How much money are you willing to bet that he finds them and puts my underwear in his jacket pocket?”

He kissed her on the nose then hurried over to the door and placed his ear against the wood. The captive audience were clapping, the young man must have finished another number. “I’ll meet you on the coach,” he whispered. “Give it a couple of minutes before you follow me out.”

He opened the door and slipped back into the room, just as he expected, his coach party hadn’t noticed. Then he glanced toward the bar and noticed the barman staring directly at him. The man smiled and nodded.

Edward returned the greeting and casually padded over to the main doors. He wasn’t worried about the lad suspecting, in Edward’s experience, the younger generation didn’t think that anyone over the age of forty still had carnal desires. He walked through the vestibule, opened the main doors and stepped out into the night air.

“He probably thinks that my genitals fell off decades ago.” Edward chuckled to himself and took out the keys.

That young man probably had a few girls chasing after him too. He must have a girlfriend, Edward wondered if she was pretty. The young girls were wasted on lads his age. The prospect of Edward finding a teenager to share his bed were very slim, which was a shame. One night with Edward and no teen boys would satisfy them ever again.

What Edward would have given to swap bodies with that barman. He chuckled to himself again. Oh lord, what a combination that would be. With his experience and charm combined with the boy’s good lucks and stamina, no girl within a five mile radius would be safe.

Edward unlocked the door and climbed onto the coach, “My dick really would fall off after a few weeks,” he muttered, “but what a way to go.” He walked down the aisle, toward the back.

He watched his latest squeeze left the club. The way she just stood there, looking all forlorn and pathetic, doused the fire in his loins.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “That’s what happens when you drool over imaginary teenagers, Edward.”

He opened the door and helped Ethel up, she may not have a firm strong body anymore but she certainly knew how to please her man. Deep down, he knew that even if the impossible did happen and somehow Edward did manage to hook up with a randy teen girl, she’d probably just lay there like a sack of potatoes.

Ethel brushed her hand against his crotch and frowned, “There doesn’t appear to be much life down there, Edward. Isn’t your soldier happy to see me?”

Could he see a hint of mockery in her pale blue eyes? Oh yes, it was there alright, laughing at the annoying fact that he couldn’t get it up. He silently sighed and realised that he had but one option left.

Edward closed his eyes and tuned Ethel’s whining voice out. He took his mind back to 1964 and to Margret Brown.

That demure secretary had been his first extra-marital entanglement and by far the best. The packing firm where Edward had worked at the time employed their office staff on a temporary basis. Margret was just one of many faceless individuals who passed through the company. She always kept her mousey, brown hair tied back in a tight bun, with little make-up and wearing loose fitting dull coloured clothing, the woman effectively faded into the background. She wasn’t much to look at. It fact, she wasn’t anything to look at, those clothes covered all her feminine curves. The woman was plainer than blank paper.

Edward soon discovered how wrong he’d been to judge dowdy Margret by appearance alone. He also discovered that the woman had plans for him. What started out as a drink after work, turned into a torrid affair that lasted nearly two months. It only ended when Margret had to move away due to her husband getting a job abroad. She’d taught him a lot in those seven weeks they’d been together and he vowed never to forget her.

“Let’s see if I can suck some life into him.”

It wasn’t Ethel getting down on her knees but Margret. Edward whimpered when she pulled down his fly and unfastened his trouser button. Margret’s supple tongue could bring him to the verge of climax several times before eventually allowing him to explode into her mouth. No other girl had come close to matching her skill, least of all, Ethel. Her idea of a blowjob involved sucking on his root as hard as possible as if she was trying to extract honey, using a thin straw.

He felt her pushing his cock into her mouth, Edward then made the mistake of opening his eyes. His mental image of Margret bringing joy to his manhood retreated back into his dusty archives. Harsh reality slapped him in the face. That haggard woman working hard to revive his softening penis was the best he would ever get.

Ethel still had her eyes closed. In between the slurps, the occasional dramatic moan escaped her lips. She have thought that it turned him on but in truth, Edward just thought that it made her sound like she was on the toilet. The woman had put on way too much make-up again, the cracks around her mouth looked like sun-baked mud. Oh God, this wasn’t fucking fair, why couldn’t he have another woman with a firm body and smooth skin? Fucking Ethel was like doing the dirty with sharpei dog.

He sighed, he may as well throw in the towel and go back into the club and finished his drink, God, this was embarrassing. It had been years since he’d last experienced a failure to perform.

“Ethel, stop.”

Now he would have to go through all the rigmarole of comforting the woman and explaining to her that none of this was her fault, despite the fact that it was. He put both hands on her head and moved his hips back.

“I’m sorry sweetheart but I’m just not in the mood.”

The tears in her eyes had already begun to flow. Edward gently lifted her up and put his arms around her shoulders.

“Please don’t cry, it’s not your fault. You’ve done nothing…”

He stopped in mid sentence and stared at the front of the coach. A large black man had his face and hands pressed against the windscreen.

“Who the hell is that?”

Ethel spun around and stifled a scream. Edward pulled her back along the aisle when the man edged along the outside of the window toward the open door.

“Get behind me,” whispered Edward.

She shook her head and breathed deeply, “Calm down, Edward. It’s just the club’s doorman. Nothing to worry about, love, he’s probably just doing his rounds.” She looked at Edward’s crotch and giggled. “You make yourself decent while I deal with him, I’ll tell him we’re just getting my purse or something.”

The man had already reached the door, Edward knew immediately that something wasn’t right when he heard the man moaning. Ethel appeared to be oblivious to the danger.

When she was close enough, the man lunged at her. His body fell on hers, forcing the scream out of her lungs. She twisted to the side then raked his face with her nails, he responded by grabbing her index finger and pushing it into his mouth. Edward growled and launched himself at the man when he heard her bone crunching between his teeth.

Edward’s left boot connected with the man’s shoulder, he didn’t even flinch. “Get off her, you bastard!”

Thick crimson fluid from Ethel’s mutilated hand sprayed across the floor.

Edward rushed forward, intending to grab the man’s hair but slipped in her blood. He crashed down, his knee smashing into the woman’s face. The man’s clawed hands darted forward and fastened over Edward’s ears. The man effortlessly lifted him off her body and dragged his head closer to the man’s gaping mouth. Edward clawed four furrows down his cheek then pushed his other hand between his head and those teeth.

The excruciating pain shooting through his system when the man squeezed his hands into fists caused him to black out for a second, when he came to, the last thing he saw before the man’s teeth clamped around his jugular, was Ethel slowly crawling toward his outstretched hand, moaning very softly.

Chapter fourteen

Mark Thomson squeezed his wife’s hand tight when the killer showed his next victim his knife, his special blade with exactly twelve notches cut into the razor-sharp steel.

“Bloody hell, Mark,” said Cheryl angrily, “leave it out will you? You’re cutting my circulation off.”

“Sorry,” he replied, grinning. “I got a little carried away with myself. This is the good part, you see. The part I told you about.”

Cheryl sighed, “Well quit your yapping and let me watch it.”

He sat back on the sofa, smiling. He’d done it, after all these years he’d finally managed to persuade his wife to watch a horror film with him and by the sound of it, she was getting into it too. Channel four were currently halfway through showing a selection of seventies horror nasty’s. After the movie ended, they were showing an interview with the remaining cast members. He doubted that Cheryl would wish to sit through that as well so he intended to download the programme in the morning.

He’d already mentally picked a few of his favourite movies from his extensive DVD collection that he intended to share with her in the coming weeks. Mark had been tempted to add a couple of extreme horror movies from Korea onto that pile too but decided to leave them for another day. He had no wish to traumatise the poor woman.

The killer thrust his blade deep into the woman’s stomach, predictably, the last two buttons on her blouse magically fell off, exposing a rather generous helping of booby goodness. Mark watched Cheryl’s reaction and waited for the snide remark about this being nothing more than soft-core porn for hormonal teenage boys. She didn’t even make one sound. How fantastic was this?

The killer looked up when a door slammed shut downstairs. He stopped sawing off the dead woman’s head, padded into the hallway and looked down the stairs. He shrugged and re-entered the bedroom. Of course, the audience never saw him actually doing the deed with his knife, which, in Mark’s opinion was a real shame. A scene like that could have elevated this movie into the ‘A’ list of horror cult classics.

“Who’s downstairs, Mark?”

“Hush up,” he said. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Cheryl punched his arm. Oh boy, was his wife going to be surprised in a moment, he couldn’t wait.

The television picture abruptly disappeared and was replaced with static. Mark jumped up, “What the fuck?”

Cheryl dug her hand down the side of the sofa and pulled out the remote. She methodically searched through all the channels, everyone showed the same picture. “Well, this is bloody annoying. “

“Is the telly bust?”

“For your sake, Mark, you’d better tell me that you have that film on DVD.”

He kneeled down in front of the television and pressed play on the DVD player. The opening title of his latest purchase appeared on the screen. He pressed stop and turned around. “Sorry, love but that film didn’t even make it to video, I’ve got the sequel upstairs though.”

Cheryl sighed and went through the channels once more. “I was really getting into that too. Now what do we do?”

They both looked toward the ceiling when something crashed into the floor above their head.

“Is our Trevor upstairs?”

His wife nodded whilst absently pressing random buttons on the remote, he watched her frustration mount at her failed attempts to remove the static. He ought to ring the company up, the problem would be at their end, Mark could guarantee that.

He jumped as something crashed else to the floor in Trevor’s bedroom, shaking dust off the light fitting.

“What the bloody hell is he doing up there?” he said, looking at the ceiling whilst walking toward the phone hung up by the kitchen door.

“Helen’s with him.”

“They sound as if they’re having a bloody wrestling match.”

“I’ll go have a word with them,” said Cheryl, smiling. “While I’m gone, find out what those idiots are playing at.”

Mark nodded back, knowing it was pointless to inform her that he had already got that covered. She’d just given him one of her rare smiles, which meant trouble.

“Then you can make us both a nice cup of tea.”

He watched her storm out of the room before picking up the remote and having a go himself before ringing them up. Mark couldn’t decide whether her pissed off mood stemmed from the TV dying on them or that Mark didn’t have that movie on DVD. Not that the reason really mattered, it didn’t take that much to ignite Cheryl’s volatile temper anyway.

Mark’s eyes drifted back toward the ceiling, “You’d better have a good reason for the noise, laddo,” he muttered. “Otherwise, she’ll blast the wax out of your ears.”

He threw the remote on the sofa and picked up the phone. The ceiling shook once more, it really did sound like they were wrestling. Mark fully expected to hear even more noise any minute now.

Trevor had inherited his father’s looks and love for horror but he’d got his temper from his mother. Since reaching seventeen, those two locked horns daily. Their continuous verbal clashing ceased to be amusing several months ago.

A panic shrieking blasting through the floor, froze Mark’s blood. Oh crap, that came from Cheryl. Mark rushed out of the room, the phone dropping through his fingers. He skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairs and gazed up; he saw nothing out of place.

“Cheryl? Are you okay, love?”

He raced up the stairs when she failed to reply, Mark feared the worse, what if he’d had an accident? That would explain the scream, Cheryl wasn’t good with any sort of injury, she even had a fit at the sight of a cut finger. His mind conjured up graphic images of his son lying in a pool of blood after falling out of bed or Helen slicing through an artery after messing with one of Trevor’s craft knives.

“Jesus, Mark. Give it up,” he muttered.

He reached the top of the stairs and hurried toward his son’s open door. His brain could not process the information his eyes showed Mark when he looked into his son’s bedroom.

This could not be happening.

Mark’s rational mind slipped down a gear as he watched his own son, bite out chunks of meat out of a ragged crater in the side of Cheryl’s neck.

Helen lay slumped in the middle of the bedroom floor. Judging from the multiple holes bitten into her neck and shoulders, Trevor must have practised on her first.

His mind re-appeared and calmly informed Mark that Helen falling off Trevor’s top bunk was the noise they first heard.

She had to be dead. Nobody could possibly survive those horrendous wounds.

“Trevor?”

He forced his foot across the threshold. His son lifted up his crimson coated chin, regarded him with dead fish eyes before dipping his head back into the hole.

Mark’s rational mind flew once more, when Helen opened her eyes and crawled toward his foot. He screamed and stumbled back onto the landing then ran down the stairs. He spun around when he reached the bottom and whimpered at the sight of the three of them wobbling about on the landing like new born foals. They gazed down at Mark and moaned.

When Helen took a single tentative step toward the top step, he darted through the living room, noting that the TV still showed static. Mark burst into tears at the sight of the empty phone cradle then remembered that it had slipped through his fingers when his wife first screamed.

Oh fuck, he had no idea where he stood when he dropped it. Mark panicked when the sound of moaning reached his ears, they were coming after him! He turned and ran through the kitchen.

“I need help,” he panted.

Mark pulled open the door and rushed out into the dark street. All the streetlights on his side of the road were off. He grabbed the side of the bus stop outside his garden gate and groaned when he spotted Mrs. Edmonton, his neighbour from across the street.

The old woman had paid Mark £30 for replacing several broken roof tiles last Wednesday. She had explained that her son, Dominic had an intense fear of heights. Now, Mrs. Edmonton sat under the only working streetlight, against her garden gate, chewing on a child’s foot.

Mark’s dire situation sunk in fast, this was happening everywhere. His legs collapsed from under him. He dropped to the floor and crawled back into his garden. There was no point in continuing, there would be no help for him. Mark curled up into a ball and waited for the inevitable. It shouldn’t take long for his darling wife to find him, he knew there would be some pain when Cheryl bit him but it would be over in seconds, at least then he’d be with her.

He jerked when he heard running feet across the road. The sound got louder. Two men ran into Mark’s garden and pulled him onto his feet. The largest man who looked to Mark like a steroid addicted bodybuilder placed his huge hands on either side of his cheeks and stared into Mark’s terrified eyes. He felt as though the man’s intense stare was stripping his soul away layer by layer.

“Well, ain’t you a sad waste of skin. Your mum should have saved us the bother and strangled you with your own umbilical cord.”

The big man threw Mark into the arms of the other one.

“Hold that for me, Dean.” He said.

“Jesus, Talbot. There’s three of them in there, are you sure about this?”

The big man slowly nodded then headed to the open door. “Don’t worry, my theory will work. While I’m upstairs, take that snivelling lump into his living room and get him prepared, I’ll probably be starving when I finish this.”

The two men laughed.

“What’s going on?” asked Mark once the man mountain had left them.

“Shut up,” replied Dean.

He pulled Mark through the doorway and into the kitchen, he attempted to struggle but quickly gave up, it was like being dragged behind a slow moving car. Dean threw Mark onto the sofa. His head snapped back and smacked against the back of the chair, making his see stars.

“There’s too much polish on this window, Mark.”

Through blurred vision, he saw the man standing next to one of his bookcases, dragging his index finger down the glass.

“Look at those unsightly streaks. You ought to just use warm water with a dash of vinegar.”

“I’m going mad,” muttered Mark.

He turned his head at the sound of someone clomping down the stairs. Mark’s eyes bulged in their sockets when the man mountain, painted in vivid scarlet, wet lumps came into view.

“Why is he still breathing?” asked Talbot.

Dean traced his finger along the surface of his bookcase; he pulled a sour face then sighed. “Did your theory work then?”

The man mountain grinned. Mark felt his stomach turn over at the sight of tiny, stringy pieces of red flesh stuck between the man’s teeth.

“Like a dream. There’s none of that distracting mental miasma this time, it looks like working alone is the way to go. I dispatched them in seconds.”

Mark gasped, he’d just figured out what he meant by that sentence. The fucker had just slaughtered his family.

Dean grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. “I reckon that we ought to have a go at converting this one.”

The man mountain burst out laughing. “You can’t be serious. Have you seen the state of his kitchen? I doubt he’s washed up since yesterday.”

Dean shrugged, “Face facts , Talbot. This plague is spreading faster than you even predicted. We have to work with the material we have on hand.”

“Fair enough, it’s worth a try, I suppose.”

Dean pulled him off the sofa and sat on Mark’s chest.

“Oh god. Please don’t kill me,” pleaded Mark. He gazed into the blond man’s eyes, searching for any sign of compassion.”

“He’s a whiney little bitch.”

“Just hold his head still, Talbot.”

Man mountain’s upside down head appeared above Mark’s face. The man’s hands locked his head still, Mark felt like he’d just been placed in a vice.

“You were willing to let your dead family convert you into one of those filthy things a few moments ago, why the sudden change of mind?”

The man wedged Mark’s head between his knees then forced his mouth open. Mark watched in horror and revulsion as the other guy sliced through his own forearm with one of his fingernails and held the dripping arm directly over Mark’s mouth.

Several drops of glutinous, black syrup fell onto his tongue and flowed down Mark’s throat. He gagged and attempted to cough the stuff out. The vile stuff tasted like rotting shellfish.

Both men climbed off him but he couldn’t move. His muscle locked him rigid as a board. Volcano heat spread through his body, Mark screamed his throat raw. Abruptly as it started, the pain just vanished.

Mark grinned, he couldn’t help it. The euphoric sensation sweeping his body made the pain seem like a very bad dream.

Welcome, brother. Said two voices inside his mind.

Mark slowly sat up and looked at the two smiling men in adoration.

He returned their smile. “Thank you for the gift.” He whispered.

Mark then noticed a slight frown flow across Dean’s face.

“What’s the matter?”

Tears rolled down Dean’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, he said. “It isn’t working.”

Mark didn’t understand what he meant. He felt fine, better then fine. Then, without warning, the intense pain returned, Mark folded over in excruciating stomach cramps. Before his eyes, Mark’s fingers began to rot and liquefy. The last words he heard before the rest of his body turned to wet mush was Dean sobbing out the words ‘photocopy of a photocopy’

Chapter fifteen

Dominic followed Marlene up the dimly lit staircase. He just couldn’t come to terms with how scared he was. Even the faint tones coming from the mouth of that good looking singer failed to ease his anxiety. The thought of having to help Marlene explain the situation to Bernard just exacerbated his feelings.

His mother had a medicine cabinet full of tablets, within those countless bottles, Dominic was sure that they’d be something to calm him down. He then remembered his friend throwing all those painkillers down his throat and choked back a sob.

“Dominic, are you okay?” asked, Marlene, turning her head.

He nodded, “Yes thanks. I just got a bit of dust caught in the back of my throat.”

His on the spot lie seemed to satisfy the woman. Where in the blazes had Douglas gone? Marlene’s suggestion of him sleeping off his illness inside his beast seemed like a reasonable idea. He just wished they’d followed it through before rushing back into the club.

Dominic took a deep breath and breathed in a little more of that dusty air, imagining that he stood atop a desolate mountain. Maybe not that desolate, he’d have to have someone to keep him company.

He allowed the fantasy to play out in the back of his mind and concentrated on Marlene’s back. It had been a while since he’d been this close to her before. The woman had put on a bit more weight, no doubt gorging on his yummy pies. That bum had definitely expanded. Perhaps now would not be the best time to announce his breaking news.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, woman,” he snapped. “Quit the fretting. You’re beginning to sound like my mum.”

“Don’t you worry about Bernard,” she said, obviously not believing him, “I can explain everything.” She paused, “And if you call me woman again. I’ll push you down the stairs.”

So that was that, his role in this drama had just been finalised. She was the heroine while his diminutive part consisted of just being Marlene’s sidekick, her faithful manservant, just there for comic relief.

She reached the top of the stairs and disappeared around the corner, bugger it, he would tell her that she had a big bum after all.

Despite working at the club for all these years, he’d never had the need to come up here. In fact, this would be only the second time that Dominic had climbed these stairs. He felt like a burglar, breaking into someone’s house. The place hadn’t changed a bit, well apart from becoming a bit shabbier. It must have been almost twenty years since that horrible ogre had taken Dominic upstairs to give him his super-scary pep talk.

Even though the man turned his bowels to water, he couldn’t help but admire his taste in décor. Looking back, it was pretty blinking obvious that Bernard had inherited the place already decorated from the club’s previous owner.

He followed Marlene into the first room. This was where Bernard had taken that eager young twenty year old trainee chef and told him just how lucky he was to work at his club. Apparently, there had been dozens of applicants just clamouring for this prestigious position. After he’d shook Dominic’s hand, he then explained in graphic detail, just what he would do to him if Dominic ever stole from his club.

From behind his back, Bernard pulled out a wooden walking stick and twisted the handle. Dominic’s jaw dropped as Bernard grabbed the shaft and pulled, revealing a long, thin metal blade.

Dominic padded over to a long, white leather sofa, pushed against the back wall. That wasn’t here all those years ago. He shuddered, remembering that week of nightmares he had of Bernard pushing that blade into his guts.

He ran his hand along the cool, leather whilst thinking back to what little he knew about zombie people. The only movie he’d ever seen as a child involved a group of survivors holed up in some shopping centre. It was just horrible, that movie frightened the pants off him and put Dominic off those types of films forever. Give him a good tear jerker anytime.

From what he could recall, zombie people are basically dead people shuffling about and drinking lots of blood. Or was that what vampires did?

Dominic did a double take when he spotted a bright red telephone sat on Bernard’s writing desk. He rushed over and grabbed the receiver and felt his karma evaporate when he heard no dial tone.

“Oh, that is super bad news.” He muttered.

It can’t be a coincidence, both phones can’t be broken. He decided there and then that looking for Bernard can go whistle. Hiding in Dominic’s loft never looked so appealing.

“Marlene, I’m sorry but I’ve changed my mind. Can you give me a lift home?”

Dominic replaced the receiver and turned in a complete circle. “Marlene?” he hissed. “Where are you?”

He hurried to the door and looked both ways but saw no sign of her. What was he going to do now, how would he explain his presence if Bernard caught him rooting round his private room? He took one look behind him, just to be sure she wasn’t hiding behind that desk. Dominic slowly walked to the door shaking. The woman had just run off and left him here.

“Guess what I’ve found!”

Dominic jumped a foot and swivelled round. Marlene grinned at him whilst leaning against a bookcase. She swung the bookcase back to reveal an entrance to another room.

“Oh my goodness!” he exclaimed. “He really does have a secret room behind his office. This is so Scooby Doo.”

She reached across the desk and took Dominic’s hand. “Come and see what I’ve found.”

He followed her, mouth agape into his boss’s private seduction chamber. The room was beyond surreal. Marlene grabbed the edge of the bookcase and swung it back into position.

Had Dominic just travelled back in time and landed in the middle of a Roman whorehouse? No blinking wonder his boss had been able to charm so many starry eyed barmaids over the years. These lavish decorations would blindside any impressionable teenage girl.

It must have cost a fortune to design and install, he sniffed, now he knew why Dominic hadn’t received a pay rise in the last three years. He pushed through the deep, purple gauze material, hanging down from black poles fastened to the ceiling. Dominic gazed in longing at the huge four poster bed dominating the room. Dominic sat on it and squealed in delight. Why was he not surprised that Bernard had a water bed?

This scarlet, silk sheet under his bum probably cost more than what Dominic earned in a week. He wondered whether Thomas would be blindsided if he managed to get him in here. Stuff it, this was his fantasy, why stop at just him? Dominic would bring that super good looking singer up here as well. The thought of him being sandwiched between two gorgeous, naked men made him drool.

He felt a sharp prod on his shoulders and jerked his head up to see Marlene glaring down at him.

“Earth to Dominic, do I even want to know where your mind had just been?”

Dominic blushed redder than the sheets he sat on.

She held up a low cut, purple blouse. “Does this look familiar to you?” Marlene then threw a black bra at his head. “That was next to the blouse. Both pieces were hung over that chair. I can only assume that they both belonged to the same girl.”

He knew exactly who that blouse belonged to. “Oh no, it’s our missing barmaid’s. Wait a minute, are you suggesting that she’s still in the club?”

She shrugged, and then pointed to a pair of crumpled trousers lying beside the chair. “Did you happen to notice a naked teenager running past you?”

He shook his head, “I think I would have mentioned something like that.”

“Well, Bernard isn’t here, let’s check out the other rooms.”

She wandered back to the back of the bookcase and placed her ear against the wood.

“What’s wrong?”

Marlene ran back over to him and pulled Dominic around the bed and dropped down. “There’s somebody in that other room,” she whispered, “and I think it’s Bernard.”

“Good, let’s get this over with.” He said, standing up.

She pulled Dominic back down, “No. You don’t understand.”

Then he heard the low moans through the thin wooden panels. “Oh my god!” he hissed. “He’s turned into one of those things.”

“He helped Douglas carry that boy’s body over to the car.”

“Are you suggesting that it infected Bernard?”

She nodded, “I’m suggesting that it infected them both, we still haven’t found Douglas yet, have we?”

Dominic figured that events would have been rather different if he and Marlene had decided to check out the beast first. Could he really be in there, just waiting for some poor sap to open the car door and ask him if he was okay? Oh good lord, he squeezed his legs together to stop his shakes. It could have been Dominic out there moaning away.

“Marlene? I don’t want to be here anymore. What say you and me just go?”

She shook her head, “We can’t leave.”

“Why not? Come home with me, Marlene. I cook you anything you want. We can sit and watch a film and gorge ourselves on junk food and wait for all this to blow over.”

She was silent for a moment, “Okay, Dominic, it’s a deal, but we take Thomas as well. We can’t leave him here.”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied.

The noise outside the room gradually subsided.

“Do you think he’s gone?”

Marlene shrugged, “well, there’s only one way to find out.”

She crept back over to the bookcase. Dominic stayed behind the bed; he’d follow her as soon as he’d tooled up. His initial search proved fruitless, this was so unfair. How could he possibly find anything suitable in a room full of soft furnishings? Why could their boss have done the reasonable thing and seduced his girls in an armoury? Dominic saw the closed wardrobe, he stood up and ran to it, he hoped to get lucky. Maybe Bernard added a slight kink to his sexual exploits and dressed up as a soldier, complete with a big gun.

“Not a nurse, please not a nurse.” He whispered. Dominic opened the door and sighed when he saw the row of seductive, frilly nighties that left little to the imagination. Oh lord, this was so, super not funny. What was he supposed to do now, dispatch those horrible creatures with a plastic coat hanger?

A very familiar object propped up in the corner then caught his eye. Dominic grinned like a Cheshire cat, reached in and pulled out Bernard’s walking stick. He twisted the handle and pulled the outer shell down.

“Marlene? Look at the size of my big weapon.”

“It suit’s you sweetheart. You look like Errol Flynn.” She swung the bookcase open and peered into the room. “It’s empty.”

Marlene gazed at Dominic, “Do you feel confident enough to use that?”

He wanted to dismiss her patronising question with a deep manly laugh, he’d dissected more flesh than she’d had hot dinners, dinners he might add that Dominic had made for her.

Dominic handed her the blade and turned away so she wouldn’t see his tears.

“Come on, Dominic,” whispered Marlene.

He kept his eyes fixed to the floor and followed her out into the other room. Marlene stiffened, Dominic looked up and saw Bernard in the hall, staring out of the window. Marlene raised the sword and padded across the carpet.

Before she had time to deliver the blow, he spun around and jumped to the side. “Jesus fucking Christ, Marlene, what the fuck are you two clowns playing at?”

Dominic wanted to weep with relief, he wasn’t one of those things after all, that meant, maybe his friend would be fine too.

“You won’t believe what we’ve just seen outside,” replied, Marlene, unfazed by his outburst.

“You two as well? Thank fuck for that. I though I was going fucking potty.”

Dominic then noticed just how red his eyes were. Had his boss been crying? He found that blinking hard to believe. He approached the window and looked down onto the carpark, thinking that their boss must have seen the dead boy come back to life as well.

He gasped and felt his legs turn to water at the monstrous scene below. Douglas and some middle aged woman sat in one of the parking spaces, both biting out chunks of meat from the mutilated body of an older man.

Dominic turned around and slid down the wall, he closed his eyes and began to cry. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and presumed Marlene was about to offer him comfort. Dominic’s body was forced back upright. He jerked open his eyes and stared into the livid face of his boss. He watched him snatch the blade out of Marlene’s startled hands.

“Quit your fucking snivelling. We are all in serious shit here. I aim to survive this and to do that, I need people around me who are strong and can pull their weight. Am I making myself clear?”

Dominic managed to nod.

“Good. Marlene, pop back into my room, the wardrobe has a false bottom. Bring me what you find in there.”

When she left them alone, he turned back to Dominic. “If you don’t pull yourself together, you fucking homo, I’ll use this to put you out of the picture.”

Dominic stared into the crazed man’s eyes, wishing Marlene had chopped this horrible bastard’s head off.

Chapter sixteen

The wallet hidden away in Aiden O’Neil’s dark blue bomber jacket now had its desire come true. He’d made £120 so far tonight and Aiden didn’t think that the Goddess of cash had finished with him just yet.

Events were still afoot in the Stockholm club tonight. He knew from experience that where there’s drama, there’s opportunity for the acquisition of the old folding stuff.

He’d watched those two oldies sneak out of the club about ten minutes ago, the pair of dirty dogs. Not that it was his place to judge their antics, why should he? Edward’s abnormal levels of hormones had made Aiden £20 richer tonight. Granted, it wasn’t a king’s ransom but money was money. The old man would no doubt supply his dealer with yet more notes from his pension in the weeks to come. Aiden allowed a slight grin to play upon his lips, wondering if it was possible to make even more cash out of that oversexed pensioner.

The oldie actually thought the other men who frequented the bingo hall wasn’t aware of his exploits, even Aiden had heard some of those nasty names they called that more man. Edward was blind to it all, talk about not seeing the woods for the trees. Yes, that cash cow could definitely be milked some more. Aiden knew that the old fucker’s wife still had no clue to what her husband got up to, there could be potential leverage there. He’d have sleep on that one though, to come up with some sort of scheme.

Aiden’s main concern tonight was how he’d managed to acquire the rest of his wallet comforter. He feared that he’d just made a pact with the devil. Bernard had just snared poor old Aiden and popped him into the dark eyed man’s pocket with the rest of his lackeys.

“Thou shall not yield to temptation.” He mouthed.

Oh, but how could he not take him up on his offer? Talk about easy money but oh so risky. He’d heard what happened to those who crossed Bernard.

Aiden shivered. Those terrible tales were best served up to other less fortunate villains, the ones whose brains need to be warmed up before use.

He turned back to the bar and drained the last of his Guinness. The distracted barman hadn’t noticed the empty glass, his attention was elsewhere. That suited Aiden just fine, it allowed him to earn his Brucie bonus of another fifty notes.

Aiden slipped through the doors beside him and into the club’s kitchen, confident that the place would be devoid of employees. Aiden watched that puff and the cute bit of fluff rushing around like headless chickens a little earlier. He had no idea what had ruffled their feathers but he intended to find out after he’d finished in here.

As predicted, the puff had left no soul to guard his precious pies. He bent over and inhaled. The aroma drifting up from these pastry delights bordered on the sublime. Aiden had earlier promised himself that he’d be in and out of here like a ninja, leaving no trace of his presence, but that idea went out of the window when he picked up the first pie and took a huge bite.

“Just perfection,” he mumbled.

That facsimile man sure knew how to cook. Ironic really, considering his wife was less feminine than Dominic but couldn’t cook for her life.

The Two Spoons café a couple of miles from here was about to see their customer intake treble, thanks to Aiden. He’d been tasked with acquiring the essential pie filling ingredients. Considering it was worth fifty quid, he’d be a fool to turn it down. The café owner told him that although the quantities would be helpful it wasn’t necessary as with some experimenting he should be able to replicate the recipe.

It may seem like such a small task but he knew that it was these types of jobs that had the ability to enhance his reputation tenfold. Aiden and the café owner both knew that Aiden could supply him with any old ingredient list and that fool would be none the wiser.

With reluctance, he put the remains of the pie in the bin and made his way through the kitchen, toward where he hoped, Dominic would keep his files. From what he had observed, the puff didn’t appear to be the secretive type, which suited Aiden just fine.

An old writing desk pushed into the corner seemed the likeliest place to commence his search. Apart from a stained tea cup, the surface gave no joy, not that Aiden had expected his task to be so easy. He rifled through his inside pocket and pulled out a flat ended screwdriver then sat in the chair. The desk had six drawers, three on either side, no doubt locked, hence the screwdriver.

Aiden looked behind him, went through his rehearsed ‘I’m sorry I got lost’ speech one more time before turning attention to the drawers. Before he set to work with his tool of choice, he allowed his optimism get the better of him and pulled the drawer handle. Aiden almost fell off the chair when the damn drawer opened.

“Good lord, ain’t you the trustworthy type.”

Aiden’s eyes bugged out at the tatty sheet of light blue notepaper, sitting right at the top of the drawer.

“He’s even titled it for me too,” he said, grinning, “ain’t that so sweet.”

Aiden picked the paper out of the drawer and stuffed it into his pocket. He’d hit on a potential goldmine here. That café owner would make a bloody fortune out of this recipe, certainly more than a poxy fifty pounds. He’d give the money back to the man then start a bidding war. This tatty scrap of paper could net him a couple of grand, easily.

His wallet inflating scheme jumped to the back on his mind when the room plunged into darkness. The fans above him stopped and the fridges ceased to buzz. The low murmurings, rapidly turning into panicked shouts reached him from the lounge. He stood up and felt his way toward the wall,

“It’s just a power failure,” he murmured, “nothing to worry about.”

The sound of his own voice gave him little comfort. Aiden has never been wholly secure with the idea of being unable to see. This new development was not welcome. Aiden decided to cut short the wrinkly Romeo’s jolly time and retrieve his keys. He’d sit in his coach until the lights came back on.

He listened to the barman attempting to calm the rest of the wrinklies down, without having much success, Aiden then heard him announcing that he’d go check the fuse box. He realised with fear that the damn thing was probably in here. Oh shit, Aiden couldn’t be found, there was no way he’d be able to talk his way out of this one. He saw a powerful torch beam shining through the plastic curtains. What the bloody hell could he do? He then noticed a faint green glow behind him and smiled. There’s a fire exit over there. He could nip through it and sneak round the front, it was a brilliant plan.

Aiden hurried over to where the door should be, his stomach bumped into the bar. He told Mr. Panic to get behind him and grasped the bar with both hands then pushed down. Streetlight greeted his appreciative eyes through the widening gap but it wasn’t alone. The night wind brought the stench of rotting flesh to batter his nostrils. If the urge to leave the darkness hadn’t been so overwhelming, his addled wits may have seen that withered hand reaching for him. Aiden screamed as it clamped over his wrist. He tried to pull the door shut but was too late to stop the owner of the hand biting out a sizable piece of flesh from his thick wrist.

As the thing reared back, he slammed the door shut; his world plunged into darkness once more. Aiden shut his eyes, trying not to think about the agonising pain shooting though his arm. He whimpered, this would be his final few breaths. His days of ducking and diving had come to an abrupt end thanks to some diseased old tramp with a fetish for biting people. Aiden sighed then wondered why a light from a motorbike headlamp had just blinded him.

“Are you alright? What the bloody hell happened to you? Hang on a second.”

The lights came back on; Aiden opened his eyes to see the barman reaching for a first aid box, fastened to the wall above the aluminium preparation tables.

“I thought one of the oldies from my party wandered in here, some of them do have a tendency to get lost. They’re more like sheep than humans, you see. It’s their age.” Aiden wasn’t sure why he gave the worried looking barman his prepared speech, it’s not like he asked for it.

“Oh, Jesus, this hurts.”

Aiden held out his damaged arm, so the lad could bandage it up, it surprised him just how little blood there was. He ought to be swimming in the stuff.

“How did you do that?”

“Call an ambulance, then the police.”

“Did a dog do this?

Aiden shook his head then wished he hadn’t. A huge wave of nausea caused by the movement almost blacked him out. “A guy did it, some crazy person outside that fire door. Will you hurry up and ring for that bloody ambulance?”

Chapter seventeen

Talbot stopped next to a fast food shop and waited for Dean to catch up. He peered through the window, into the dark interior, trying to read the menu above the counter. Talbot used to look forward to his twelve inch pepperoni pizza with a double helping of mushrooms, every Wednesday night.

He allowed himself to peer back to what used to be his normal existence just for a few moments. No pizza would be complete without his wife’s finishing touch. She would place exactly thirty two slices of jalapeños in six neat rows across the surface and grilled it for three minutes. He could have just asked for the shop to have put the chillies on the pizza before he delivered it but that would have meant his wife would have played no part in the preparation of food for one day. That was just pointless. It was like getting paid without having to work for the money.

It seemed a little strange to him that he had no other fond memories of his wife or that he hadn’t even considered her until now. The woman was probably dead, either that or changed, shuffling about, feasting on the flesh of others. That role would suit the bitch down to the ground.

How ironic that his own son was one of the first to undergo the change and yet Talbot hadn’t even noticed.

Talbot dismissed them, he put his wife, son as well as freshly baked pizza on the list of items that Talbot would never need again.

Dean had finally caught up. His deteriorating appearance and his obvious weakening state worried him.

“Are you okay, Dean?”

The man nodded and attempted to give Talbot a reassuring smile.

“Of course I am,” he replied. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

Talbot studied Dean’s reflection. He scratched the side of his neck like a flea ridden dog, he wasn’t aware that he was doing it. When Dean did remove his hands, Talbot finally saw the extensive damage. The scratch that he’d sustained whilst fighting in that alley had not healed.

“Dean? I think you should…”

Talbot caught movement in the newsagent’s doorway next to the fast food shop. A well built teenage lad, dressed in black emerged and shuffled toward Dean.

Where the fuck hadn’t Talbot sensed the lad earlier? This new development alarmed the hell out of him.

“I’ll deal with it,” said Dean. “You carry on looking for a set of wheels.”

He nodded absently and left Dean to his fun.

Acquiring more transport had been Talbot’s obsession ever since their last failure. He needed to get Dean fresh meat as soon as he could. He’d broken into half a dozen homes so far, searching for live bodies but found nothing but walking dead. He had to get him to the club; it was the only place where he knew for certain that warm meat would be waiting for them.

Talbot feared the decay he witnessed with Mark had also become entrenched in Dean’s system. His deterioration was happening at a snail’s pace compared to Mark’s light speed disintegration but, even so, the signs were there.

How different would their situation be if they had just killed Mark and dined on his flesh? Even better, if that fucking bus hadn’t overturned across the road, they’d be at their destination by now. Instead of having to complete their journey on foot.

Talbot spotted an old Land Rover parked on the other side of the road and jogged toward it. What if the problem lay deeper than just getting more food for Dean? Maybe his decay was inevitable and no amount of fresh meat will stop the rot?

No, no way. Talbot refused to listen to the voice of apprehension. Dean was his responsibility and he refused to let him crumble before his eyes.

Talbot reached the 4*4, his hopes of moving out died when he saw the flat tyres on the other side of the car.

“Shit.” He muttered, “now what?”

Talbot turned around, the teenager’s head was not longer attached to his body. Talbot’s grin fell off his face when he saw his companion limp toward him. He’d sustained a few more bites. Oh this was so not good. Dean should have dispatched that thing with ease.

“Won’t the car start?”

The notion of putting Dean out of his misery unexpectedly rose to the surface of his mind. “Just a couple of head punches would do it.” He muttered.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“I said, the tyres on the other side have been let down.”

Dean stumbled. Talbot ran to him and caught his body before he hit the floor.

“What’s happening to me?” cried Dean.

The multiple bite marks over his arms and legs were not knitting up.

“I’ll get you to the club, Dean. There’s plenty of fresh food there. We’ll dine like kings, mate.”

“I’m going the same way as Mark aren’t I?”

Talbot glanced around this unfamiliar part of the city, trying to get his bearings. They couldn’t be that far away. He looked up and caught sight of the top of a church steeple. He nodded to himself, that looked familiar, he was sure that there was a church just behind the club.

“Look, Just try to stay focussed. We’re only about half a mile from the club. We’ll be there in ten minutes, easy.”

He wished there was a way that Talbot could give Dean some of his strength, just to boost Dean’s immune system.

“Come on, man. Let’s get you on your feet and enough with the talk of doom. You’ve just been bitten a few times, that’s all. Your body just needs food to repair itself and to flush out poison.”

Talbot dragged Dean away from the Land Rover and back onto the pavement. They hurried past the newsagents and turned onto the main road. Talbot sighed with relief, he knew this area of the town, they were almost there. Bernard’s club was at the end of this street, he could almost taste that warm blood running down his throat.

“I think we’re in the shit,” murmured Dean. “Look at that.”

There were five of them clambered around the chewed up body of an old woman, in a pub beer garden across the road. They looked all stopped tearing into the opened guts of the body and turned their heads.

“They aren’t a threat,” said Talbot. “I can handle them.”

The body had been forgotten in their eagerness to eradicate their enemy.

“Come on,” pleaded Dean. “I’m starving. I need some sustenance. Forget about them, If another one of those things bites me, it could spell my end.”

Talbot sat him down on the bonnet of a white convertible. “This will only take a couple of minutes. They won’t bite you, Dean. I’ll make sure of that.”

He turned around, “Besides, I’ve never run away from a fight in my whole life and I don’t intend to start now.” Talbot growled and ran up to the closest one, a man in his early forties, wearing only his pyjamas. All his fingers were missing. Talbot wondered how that had happened. Had his wife done that to him? Talbot sighed, like it really mattered. He put his hands together, raised them above his head and smashed them into the side of the man’s head. The fingerless man folded up and quietly died.

A pair of hands reached out and pawed at the back of his jacket. Talbot jerked the top half of his body forward then turned and swept a middle aged woman down to the ground with his outstretched leg. He crawled up to the groaning creature and grabbed its filthy, grey hair then lifted its head before slamming it back down. The back of the head cracked open like an egg, spilling its foul contents across the tarmac.

“That’s two gone,” he muttered.

The three remaining showed no sign of slowing down, despite killing two of their comrades in a matter of seconds. It was as if they welcomed death.

“That’s fine by me,”

Talbot ran up to a young dark haired girl, she must have only been about thirteen or fourteen. Judging by the amount of makeup and what little provocative clothing she had on, Talbot guessed that the girl had spent the night trying to get past the bouncers guarding the nightclubs. He placed one hand under her jaw, narrowly missing the thing biting a couple of his fingers off and lifted her off the ground, then he squeezed his fingers together.

Talbot then ran at the remaining two, using the girl’s body as a battering ram. He pushed them back, against a plate glass window displaying a selection of kitchen equipment, then pushed the three of them through the glass.

Talbot reached down and picked a long shard of glass, intending to finish off the remaining two when he heard Dean screaming out Talbot’s name.

He spun around and saw his companion being dragged under the car. Talbot left them and sprinted to the car. The only visible parts of Dean were his hands. He dropped the glass shard then bent down and grabbed them. Talbot roared then pulled him out from under the car. Two dead kids came with him, one fastened on the inside of Dean’s thigh whilst the other one had managed to bite off two of his toes.

Talbot stamped down hard on both their heads then picked the groaning man off the floor. He weighed next to nothing.

“Oh fuck,” he said. “What a mess you are.”

Dean opened one eye and gazed at Talbot. “My clothes are totally ruined,” he whispered. “I’ve lost one of shoes as well.” Dean coughed “I’m sorry for letting you down.”

The two he hadn’t yet killed were struggling out of the shattered window display. Talbot then saw that they had yet more company. A dozen of the things had left through the pub’s open door and were making their way toward their location.

“You didn’t let me down, mate. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left you. Look, you just fucking hang on. We’re nearly there.”

“Don’t, Talbot. Don’t you lie. I’m dying and we both know it. I’m going the same way as Mark. I can feel my body falling apart. Just drop me and go before the other’s get you.”

“Fuck no! I’m not leaving you.”

Dean screamed. His body deflated and liquefied. Foul smelling, dark green sludge dripped through Talbot’s outstretched arms. Dean’s clothes stuck to both of Talbot’s arms. He pulled them off him and threw the wet material to the floor then jumped back. He watched in mute horror as Dean’s remains flowed down the gutter.

Talbot waited for the last of his friend to slip into the drain before gazing up at the gathering crowd of foul smelling monstrosities. The only way more of Talbot’s kind could be created was by a bite from one of those fuckers and they were the only ones who knew which human would make the grade. Talbot said a silent prayer for Dean and vowed to avenge Dean’s death but first, he needed to eat. He growled and ran away from that crowd.

Chapter eighteen

Ten minutes had passed since Dominic’s encounter with his boss. His emotional state now settled into a comforting rut of apprehension tinged with a dollop of relief. His relief stemmed from the fact that Bernard had left him alone for the moment.

Dominic suspected that his boss didn’t really mean what he said when he threatened him one more time with that blade. Bernard was just showing off in front of Marlene by exerting his manliness, either that or it was Bernard’s way of boosting Dominic’s moral, Bolstering his troops like an army sergeant. Deep down though, Dominic knew that Bernard was probably just being really horrible to him, as per usual.

If his boss did think he was the general, then thankfully Dominic hadn’t been ordered to the frontline.

“It appears my job is to hold Bernard’s weapon.”

Dominic choked back a hysterical sob when he realised what he’d just said.

Looking through the oblong section of reinforced glass set in the door, he watched Bernard weave through the tables heading for the stage. The singer had done a magnificent job in calming down the old folk when the lights failed earlier. He got them to return to their tables and continued to sing. Even without the aid of a microphone, the lad still managed to be heard throughout the club.

He wondered what Bernard was up to. He wouldn’t tell Dominic. All he told Dominic to do was hold the guns and don’t mess with them. That made sense, if he marched across the lounge all tooled up like Dirty Harry, the club would have a stampede on their hands.

Dominic leaned Bernard’s shotgun against the wall and picked up one of the two pistols lying side by side on the step above where he sat. He marvelled at how the weapon fitted so snugly in the palm of his hand, he wrapped his fingers around the handle, it really did feel good to hold it. Without thinking, Dominic grabbed the top bit and pulled it back just like he’d seen in the movies the noise it made sent a pleasant shiver down Dominic’s spine, it was almost erotic.

He shook himself and threw the pistol back down. What the blinking flip was he playing at? The object was an instrument of Satan. It only had one purpose and that was to kill things.

Dominic had to get out of here, he was going to leave whether Marlene came with him or not. He returned to gazing through the door window. Marlene had now joined her boss on that stage; he wished he could hear what they were saying to the old people. Bernard’s smiley, happy features did not sit well on that ogre’s face. Looking around the room, none of the people seemed to see the ugliness beneath. Marlene climbed down and made her way toward the door.

Dominic intended to ask the woman if she still wanted to join him when she opened that door. He’d beg if he needed to. He looked back at those pistols, feeling a little queasy knowing that he’d have to take one of them in case he ran into Douglas.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

“I feel like a half cooked meringue.” He replied.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighed. “I’m ready to collapse at any time. Look, I’ve got something I need to ask you.”

She reached past him and scooped up the two pistols. “We’ll talk on the way to the kitchen.”

She grabbed his wrist and pulled Dominic into the lounge.

“I’m sorry, what’s going on?”

“Bernard wants us two to start putting your pies in doggy bags.”

She let go of Dominic and passed a little lady a bright blue coat, hung over a chair the rushed over to the doors leading into the kitchen.

He hurried to catch up with her. “Did I just hear that correctly?”

“Bernard’s getting them out of the club. He’s using your yummy pies to sweeten their grumpiness.”

“But where are they going to go? It’s dangerous out there. You saw what was happening on the street.”

She opened a cupboard door above her head and pulled out a roll of freezer bags. “These will do. Look Dominic, the driver will take them back to their homes, they’ll be safe there.”

She threw the roll at Dominic. “Come on, get packing. As soon as they’re gone we can start to batten down the hatches and ride this thing out. There’s enough food stocked up to last us for months.”

Dominic dropped the roll on the surface. “But I don’t want to stay here.” His voice was barely a whisper.

There would be no doubt that Bernard would make his existence intolerable from day one. His boss and his new sex toy would wile away the hours exploring each other’s bodies in that chamber of shame above Dominic’s head. His role in this would be to serve them food and clean. He would be their Cinderella. Unlike that fairy tale, Dominic would not be rescued by a handsome prince.

“Come on Dominic, quit it with the trembling top lip. In your heart, you know that Bernard has the right idea.”

He slowly nodded, thinking how long it would be before he threatened to throw Dominic out to the dead people if he ever started getting bitchy.

His eyes then darted to Marlene. “Oh crumbs! We’ve forgotten about Douglas. He’s still out there in the carpark. He’ll tear those poor people to pieces. Where’s Thomas? Don’t tell me that he’s out there too.”

Marlene grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the doors. “Will you calm down? Bernard said that he saw Douglas stumble off, heading into town.” She started to put the pies into the freezer bags. “Now come on, Dominic, just stop and think about our situation, you saw what happened on that street, how long do you think you’d last? At least in here we’re safe.”

He silently placed the last of the pies in the bags and followed her back into the lounge, he gathered that Thomas would be staying at the club too. Dominic tried to work out how he would fit into their ménage a trois.

“Is Thomas outside then?”

She nodded. “Yeah, Bernard’s given the driver some money to take them back home earlier than normal.”

Marlene smiled at a gentleman wearing a pork pie hat then looked at Dominic. “They don’t know what’s happening.”

The old people took the plastic bags out of their hands as they trooped past them. Bernard had made his way to the front door and said goodbye to each pensioner with a smile and a promise that he’d see them tomorrow night.

That horrible man didn’t have an honest bone in his body. Dominic came to the decision that staying here, with Bernard, could very well be detrimental to his health and well being, “Marlene, I’m going to go with the pensioners.”

He handed over the last pie to the little lady in the blue coat.

“Thank you so much,” she said, smiling.

Marlene stared at him in astonishment, he found her gaze very uncomfortable. Then she discreetly passed him one of the guns.

“Take it,” she said, “and good luck.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, “You take care of yourself.”

Dominic kissed her cheek, “You too. Take care of Thomas and please, watch out for Bernard.”

She nodded and smiled.

He took a deep breath and got in line behind the old woman. As he reached the door, Bernard eyed him up and down and then, rather unexpectedly, he grinned at Dominic.

That, he didn’t expect. He thought the man would sneer, call him a few horrible names then shout at him for abandoning them. Dominic gently squeezed past the woman and hurried out of the club before Bernard could change his mind.

Dominic rushed past the coach and stared at the dark street beyond the club’s carpark, looking for any sign of movement but he saw nothing, the streets were deserted. He shrugged to himself, maybe they’ve all gone home to bed.

He turned and watched Thomas helping the woman up the steps into the coach, he retraced his steps and climbed onto the coach.

“Dominic?” said Thomas, spinning around, “What are you doing here?”

He smiled at the lad, “I’m making sure that they all get back safely.”

Thomas moved out of the way so he could squeeze past him. Dominic wanted to hug the lad until he remembered that Thomas didn’t have a clue what was happening.

“You look after yourself, lad.”

Thomas shot him a quizzical look before climbing off the coach, “You too.” He shouted back.

Dominic watched the lad hurry back into the club before turning to the driver. “Do you go past Lexington Road?”

“The closest I go to that street is Cambridge Avenue, if that’s any good for you.”

Dominic nodded, his house was just ten minutes walk from there. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

The driver nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. I think I’m coming down with something. Now go find a seat and strap yourself in.”

Dominic made his way to the back on the coach, he saw the old woman clutching the pie he’d gave her earlier and sat down next to her.

“You don’t mind if I sit here do you?”

She smiled and patted his knee. “Of course I don’t mind, I could do with the company, I can’t seem to find the lady who sat with me on the way here.”

As the coach set off, Dominic looked down and saw just how prominent the pistol bulge was, heaven knows what the old lady must be thinking about him. He turned in his seat and watched the club’s neon blue sign recede as the coach pulled out of the carpark, he wondered if he’d ever see the place again.

Dominic felt the woman tap him on the knees again, this little old lady was getting a bit too familiar for his liking.

“Are you the young man responsible for creating these wonderful pies?

He nodded but didn’t look at the woman; Dominic’s gaze was locked at the seats directly opposite him. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? He was sure that something had just moved under the couple’s seat, he leaned forward, it was difficult to tell as they must have placed all their luggage under there.

“Well, young man. If you don’t mind me saying, I think your recipe could do with a pinch of paprika, not too much, mind.”

He wasn’t sure if it was luggage, it looked more like a huge bundle of black clothes. Dominic’s curiosity slipped away when he felt the coach slowing down. Then without warning, the vehicle shuddered to an abrupt halt, his head was thrown forward, luckily he had taken the driver’s advice and strapped himself in. The woman next to him groaned. She’d strapped herself in too. She sat back and rubbed her forehead.

Two women at the front of the coach screamed. He unbuckled his belt and stood up.

“What’s going on, what can you see?” said the panicked woman beside him.

Oh heavens, this was so not super good. That driver had just ploughed his coach into the side of an abandoned delivery van.

One of the old ladies hadn’t buckled herself in. When the coach collided with the van, she must have been thrown out of her seat and judging by the web-like crack in the windscreen, hit the glass with some force.

The injured woman lay slumped against the window, not moving. Dominic grabbed the back of the seat, intending to go and help when he saw that he wasn’t needed. The driver was already reaching out for her.

“On my God!” he gasped.

The driver placed both hands in her hair and pulled the woman toward his mouth. When she was close enough, the man bent down and bit into her neck.

The whole coach erupted with screams and shouting. Dominic assumed it was because of what the driver had just done until he saw a woman further down the coach getting pulled out of her seat and onto the floor.

That bundle of clothes was Douglas.

Dominic felt the woman next to him grab his shirt and try to pull him down, she said something but couldn’t make it out due to the deluge of voices.

The driver pushed the injured woman out of the way and fastened his hand around the ankle of a weeping man who wasn’t quick enough to get out of the driver’s way.

Dominic glanced down, the woman’s terrified eyes were glued on Douglas. He’d pulled another victim to the floor. She tried to crawl into the aisle, a man jumped out of his seat and grabbed her hand. Douglas responded by pushing his thumb into her left eye socket then jerking her back under the seat, the man lost his grip and fell forward, he turned and screamed as the driver dived on his back.

Dominic grabbed the old woman’s hand, he turned around and saw that the fire escape was only two seats back.

“Come on,” he hissed, Dominic tried to pull her out of the seat.

He glanced down and suppressed a scream as he saw Douglas crawling toward him. Dominic heard the woman cry out in pain, oh crumbs. The daft old thing still had the seat belt on. He reached across and fumbled with the buckle fastener, whimpering as he heard his old friend moaning with desire. He daren’t look behind him, he jumped onto his seat and strode over the gab onto the next one. Douglas got onto his knees and growled at the crying woman.

“Oh god, Douglas, I’m so sorry about this.”

He pulled the gun out of his pocket, grabbed the barrel and smacked the handle into the side of Douglas’s head. His ex friend fell to the floor. He reached over and grabbed the terrified woman’s hand then pulled her toward the fire exit. The driver hadn’t yet seen them trying to escape.

“We can’t leave the others here,” gasped the old woman.

He ignored her and pushed the door open, he turned to grab the woman, she shook her head.

“I’m not leaving without my friends.”

Dominic could help but notice that she forsaken her coat but still had the pie clutched tightly in her other hand. He looked behind her and saw two of her friends were heading toward them, both were moaning like Douglas had. He got the feeling that they didn’t wish to be rescued. He grabbed the woman’s blouse with both hands then swung her around before dropping her out of the open door. One of the old men reached for him. Dominic stumbled back and fell from the coach.

Hot pain shot up his leg as he fell onto the cold tarmac. Through tear, blurred eyes, he watched the woman staring at the still open fire exit. Two of those things were almost at the open door.

“Don’t just stand there, you silly woman. Shut the blinking door!”

She jumped and pushed it shut. He watched the windows of the coach stain crimson as the rest of the people on that coach were caught and killed. He looked away, ashamed of himself. The woman was right, he could have stopped them, Dominic looked in disbelief at the pistol in his hand. Oh heavens, he could have stopped them in a second.

“We’d better get back to the club,” he said.

The woman acted as if she hadn’t heard him, she had her back to Dominic, shaking like a leaf. He managed to get up on his feet, wincing in pain when he put weight on his left foot.

“It’s okay, we’re safe now,” he said.

She turned her head and looked him in the eyes, “Safe?” she cried. The woman pointed toward the dark road, at the thousands of people shuffling toward the club. “We should have stayed on the coach, it would have been over by now.”

Dominic stared in horror at that vast crowd heading their way. Then he saw a man desperately trying to outrun them. Dominic limped past the woman and raised the pistol.

“Do you know how to use that?” she asked.

He ignored her. Holding the pistol felt so natural, he felt a thrill course through his body as he placed his index finger on the trigger. He pointed the gun at a young man in a dark hoodie, he was just inches away from the running man. Dominic squeezed the trigger and hoodie just fell to the ground. He fired off two more shots and couple more of them disappeared under the approaching horde.

Dominic limped forward and fired again, wondering just how many bullets these guns held. The chased man changed direction and jogged toward Dominic. A teenage boy struggled to catch up, Dominic took him down.

The man reached Dominic, “Unreal,” he said as he ran past him, “you’re actually helping me.”

They had to get back to the safety of the club, those people would be on top of them any moment. Dominic fired one more shot, he then stepped back. He turned his head and screamed.

The man had tore his way through the woman’s chest cavity, he pulled his head out of her shattered body and grinned at Dominic, lumps of wet, flesh dripped off his chin. “I’m Talbot by the way. Don’t bother introducing yourself. Bernard’s told me all about you.” He glanced past the terror-struck man then stood up. He wiped the mess off his face and grabbed Dominic’s arm. “You saved me, so you I think I allow you to live.” Talbot dragged him across the carpark toward to main doors, “I can’t wait to get inside the club and say hello to your friends.”

Chapter nineteen

Marlene downed the double vodka in one. She quickly glanced around the lounge, ensuring Bernard hadn’t crept in then poured herself another double. She chuckled bitterly to herself, what would he do, take it out of her fucking wages?

“You can go stuff yourself, Bernard if you think I’m paying for this,” she murmured. “I think I’ve earned it.”

She had no clue where the man buggered off to. She’d only been gone for a couple of minutes. Marlene had gone into the vestibule to lock and bolt the main doors, when she came back in, Bernard had disappeared.

Marlene turned and leaned back against the bar, she swirled the clear liquid around the bottom of the glass. She may as well be sipping water for all the effect the stuff had on her. It appeared that her sobriety wasn’t going to do the honourable thing and fuck off to the next town for a few hours and leave her alone.

She lifted the glass to her lips and drained it in one go. God, how tempting was it to just throw the glass against the wall. Marlene chuckled to herself, imagining the look of sheer astonishment that would appear on Thomas’s face if she did throw it. She watched him diligently clean the tables. He’d no doubt scamper off to find a sweeping brush.

Why the bloody hell didn’t she leave with Dominic? All night long, she’d been spouting off to him about she didn’t need Bernard yet as soon as the man had told her his plans, she’d dropped everything and scampered to his side like an obedient fucking Labrador. She’d betrayed the poor man.

Marlene leaned over the bar and placed her glass under the optic again, this time, she filled the glass to the brim. If Bernard did get all shirty about her drinking his vodka, then she’d pay him with her thirty pieces of silver.

She placed the glass on the bar and marched over to Thomas. “Look lad, just leave the bloody cleaning for one minute and come and join me for a drink.”

He shook his head, “I can’t, Marlene, my shift isn’t over yet.”

Marlene grabbed his cloth and threw it over her shoulder, “Have you any idea what’s going on?” she cried.

He shrugged, “I’m just keeping my head down, Marlene. I do know that Bernard lied to those old people about the beer running out.”

He picked up a couple of empty glasses and carried them to the bar. “I think it’s about that body I found. Somebody has grassed us up, they’ll shut the club down and I’ll end up in prison.”

Marlene gave the lad a reassuring smile, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that the situation was far worse.

“Why did Dominic get on that coach?” he asked. “Is he going to heat up the pies for them when they get home?”

She pulled back a chair, “I think you’d better sit down. Oh, wait, grab my drink before you do, I think you’re going to need it.”

How was she going to explain to him that they stood on the edge of Armageddon?

Something in the kitchen crashed to the floor, it sounded like a pile of plates. Her eyes darted over to the doors, “Please tell me that you saw Bernard going in there.”

He shook his head, “No, he went upstairs.”

His face changed to the colour of sour milk. “Oh shit, I think the fire door is still open.”

Thomas ran to the bar and ducked under the serving lid. He emerged holding Bernard’s baseball bat. “Some guy attacked the driver a bit back.”

Marlene jumped up and hurried to the doors, she heard Thomas gasp then realised that she had the pistol in her hand.

“Where the bloody hell did you get that?”

“What do you mean by attacked?” she asked, ignoring his question.

“He bit him.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“It was a right mess as well. I told him he needed to go to the hospital to get it looked at.”

Marlene tried to imagine her gentle cook trying to defend himself and a coach full of pensioners from some rampaging zombie, the picture just wouldn’t surface. She wanted to throw up, he was going to die because of her.

Another loud crash exploded from the kitchen.

“What the fuck is happening?”

Marlene then heard gunfire outside. Could that be Dominic? She had to help him. She rushed to the door then turned around, intending to tell Thomas to follow her but he wasn’t there. The idiot must have gone into the kitchen.

Marlene groaned and doubled back, she pushed through the doors and collided into Thomas’s back.

“This had got to be a fucking dream,” she heard him say.

She stood to the side and gasped in absolute horror at what was slowly shuffling toward them.

That corpse must have been dead for months. At each ponderous step, ragged pieces of wet flesh fell to the floor, it raised one skeletal arm and pointed at the woman as if accusing her of being responsible for its unwanted reanimation.

“Shoot the bloody thing,” cried Thomas.

It took one more step, the stench from it made her eyes water. She pointed the business end at the corpse and pulled the trigger, nothing happened.

“The safety catch, Marlene!”

Her mistake almost cost the woman her life, the thing literally threw its body at Marlene. It wrapped both its foul arms around her neck in an obscene embrace. In a blind panic, she dropped her gun. Marlene lashed out, desperate to get this disgusting monstrosity off her.

She yelped in horror and revulsion as both her hands sank through the cadaver’s ice-cold jelly like flesh. Marlene groaned in revulsion as she pulled her hands out of the thing’s chest.

“Thomas!” she shouted. “Oh god, get it off me.”

Marlene jerked her head backwards to avoid the thing’s snapping teeth.

Thomas’s baseball bat came flying down, narrowly missing her own head. The bat smacked into the top of its skull, but it still didn’t relinquish its grip. He hit the thing again, the corpse’s hand’s loosened. Marlene grabbed its arms and pulled them off her shoulders.

It dropped to the floor, she jumped away, hitting her hip on the table behind her.

“Kill the bloody thing, Thomas. Jesus Christ.”

He stood over it, watching the corpse struggling to get up like a floundered turtle. Thomas growled and brought the bat down hard upon its head. Thick, black fluid pooled across the white floor tiles. Marlene looked away, desperately trying to keep her stomach contents inside her. Then she noticed how much of the things remains were still stuck to her fingers. She stumbled over to the sink and vomited out vodka and pie.

“Here you go.”

She smiled in appreciation as Thomas passed her a clean towel. Marlene wiped her mouth and cleaned her hands as best she could before throwing the towel at the creature’s head.

“That’s a zombie, isn’t it.” He said, shakily. “A fucking zombie.”

She nodded, unable to speak. Marlene spotted the pistol lying under Dominic’s desk and bent down to retrieve it. Fat lot of use she had been, if it wasn’t for Thomas, bony boy would have been munching its way through her face by now.

“Oh shit! Marlene, look out!”

She spun around and saw another one shambling through the open fire door, “Oh my God, no, not you as well, Ernest.”

The cleaner responded by rushing the woman, she whimpered and staggered back, Marlene brought the gun up, remembering to flick the safety catch and squeezed the trigger. The gun bucked violently in her hand. Ernest spun around as the shell caught him in the shoulder and erupted from his back, spraying the wall with pieces of crimson coated bone fragments.

She aimed again, trying to aim for the thing’s head. Ernest discarded the injury as if it was of no consequence and continued approaching her. Marlene fired again, this time the round only nicked the top of his left ear.

Her attacker launched himself at Marlene, knocking in to her with the force of a raging bull. They both fell back against Dominic’s desk. The back of her head bounced off the tiles, dazing her. Ernest crawled across the woman’s prone body up toward her neck.

Oh god, this was it, she was done for.

“Lift its fucking head as high as you can.”

Marlene jumped, Bernard’s commanding voice helped her regain her clarity. She put both hands around the throat of the slobbering, groaning monster and used the last of her strength to push the thing up.

Ernest’s head disappeared in a wet, welter of scarlet and grey confetti, she moved her head away to avoid the rain of flesh hitting her face. Marlene pushed the decapitated body off her and used the table to help get her back on her feet.

She slowly turned to face her saviour, Marlene’s words of gratitude died on her lips at the sight of Bernard pointing a huge, black pistol at the side of Thomas’s head.

“Be a dear, Marlene and get that fire door shut now.” He chuckled, “We don’t want any more of those things getting in now do we.”

Marlene couldn’t move her legs.

“Do it!” he roared.

She looked into her boss’s eyes and saw madness staring back at her. Oh Jesus, he meant to shoot that kid.

Marlene ran to the door, grabbed the metal bar and slammed it shut.

“I’ve never touched you, Marlene, despite how many times over the years, I’ve wanted to.”

Bernard’s arm fell to his side, she wished she’d picked up that gun now, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she wouldn’t hesitate to kill him to save Thomas.

“Each envious glare you directed at my girls, cut deep into my heart.” He said smiling.

That comment frightened the hell out of her. The deluded old fucker actually believed that as well.

“You see, even though I’ve always desired to take you upstairs and into my bed, Marlene. I just couldn’t do it. You know how I operate, it’s got to be business before pleasure and you, my sweet, are the best accountant who’s ever worked for me.”

She took one step forward then stopped as Bernard put the gun back against the side of the boy’s head. Thomas let out a tiny moan, she saw tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Please, Bernard, let him go. What’s he ever done wrong to you? Look, I’ll let you do anything you want to me. If you want sex then I’ll be happy to oblige.” She attempted to smile whilst resisting the urge to vomit again. Marlene couldn’t believe she had just offered herself to that vile bastard. “Those other girls are nothing compared to me.”

He nodded whilst running his tongue along his top lip. “I knew it! You really are a true raver under that no nonsense attitude, a real dark horse. We are going to have so much fun.”

With her trembling fingers, she attempted to undo the top button on her blouse. If he wanted to seduce him then that’s what she’d do and as soon as he closed his eyes, Marlene would drive a knife through his heart.

“Now please, let him go.”

Bernard shook his head, “I’m sorry, it’s too late for plea bargaining. I’ve been watching the carnage from upstairs. We are seriously fucked. By the way, Dominic is dead.”

Marlene felt as though she’d just driven that knife through her own heart.

“We’re going to be here for a long time and there’s not enough food to last three of us throughout the siege. No hard feelings, Thomas. I’ve got nothing against you. I just don’t want you to be a drain on our resources.”

Marlene screamed when Bernard pulled the trigger.

Chapter twenty

As Talbot moved past the front of the coach, Dominic made a startling discovery. All those dead people now packed into the carpark were only interested in the scary man. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? He figured that he’d probably be able to get away from this nightmare if he didn’t have a vice like grip on Dominic’s arm.

Talbot dragged Dominic over to the front of the club and pushed him into the doors. “Knock please and hurry up about it.”

Dominic pulled his cheek away from the cold glass and quickly nodded, but the gesture was wasted, Talbot now had his back to him, staring at the slowly approaching horde. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry now to catch them, perhaps they knew they’d cornered their prey. Dominic raised his hand to knock, surprised to still discover that he still clutched the gun.

He pointed the pistol at the big man’s head, how easy would it be to pull the trigger? If the scary man was no more then maybe the dead people would lose interest and disperse. Dominic got the shakes, he just couldn’t blinking well do it. He lowered the gun then banged his fist on the glass.

“I don’t get it, you were given the opportunity and yet you threw it away. Why the fuck didn’t you take it?”

Talbot snatched the gun out of Dominic’s hand, a youth wearing a dark red baseball cap lumbered out of the crowd, Talbot brought the gun up and put a bullet between the boy’s eyes.

“I couldn’t do it,” whispered, Dominic. “It’s cowardly.”

He gave Dominic the gun back and burst out laughing, “Oh that is just priceless. You know, for that I may not feed on everyone in the club.”

The door flew open, Dominic spun around and fell into the arms of Marlene. “Oh, thank God. Bernard told me that you were dead.”

“We’ll all be dead if you don’t move out of the fucking way,” growled Talbot as he pushed past the woman.

Dominic grabbed the front of the woman’s blouse and swung her into the vestibule just as an old woman lunged forward. Dominic screamed and shot the woman at point blank range.

Marlene pulled him over the threshold and slammed the doors shut. They pushed the top and bottom bolts home.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re alright.” She said. “I’m sorry for letting you go, we should have stayed together. You won’t believe what plans, Bernard had for me.”

“Knowing him, I could take a good guess.”

“He tried to kill Thomas but his gun jammed, the man is a monster.”

Dominic spun around with his gun held high at the sound of the door into the lounge shutting. Talbot had gone.

“Thomas? Where did the other one go?”

The boy shrugged, “I don’t know, he just pushed past me.”

“Oh crumbs, I’m so sorry, Marlene but Bernard is a child compared to this man. He really is a monster.”

He turned back round and gazed through the doors. They’d closed the gap; a dozen hungry faces were now pressed up against the glass.

“I’ve seen him before at the club, he works for Bernard. Our boss sends him to people who owe Bernard money. He’s a real creepy son of a bitch.”

“Those things outside followed him, he’s worse then creepy now, Marlene. I don’t think he’s even human.” Dominic shuddered when he thought of what he did to that old woman. He watched their faces drain of blood as he recounted how Talbot had eaten into the woman.

“We need to get out of here,” said Marlene.

“How?” asked Thomas, “Just look at them, there’s hundreds of them out there.”

Dominic sighed and moved away from the doors, “Where is Bernard, is he dead?”

The boy shook his head, “We tied him up, he’s still in the kitchen.”

“And in the kitchen he can stay,” replied Dominic, “He sent me and all those poor people out there to our deaths, he must have known that Douglas was hiding in that coach.”

“Thomas is right, look at them all, how do you propose we leave?”

Dominic smiled, “Through the kitchen fire exit, of course. We get into the yard, over the bins and into the street. If half the town are in our carpark then the roads should be empty.”

Marlene nodded, “Sounds like a good plan,” she said, walking toward the door. “Come on.”

Dominic took one last look at that horde before turning around. He stiffened, when he saw a large shadow behind the woman. “Marlene!” he shouted.

Talbot’s arm snaked through the open doorway and grabbed her hair then pulled the shrieking woman away.

Thomas and Dominic both rushed out of the vestibule but found the lounge deserted.

“Talbot? Please don’t hide, let’s work this out,” shouted Dominic. “We can come to some arrangement. We need to work together, we’ll all die otherwise.”

“Do we split up?” whispered Thomas.

Dominic shook his head, “No way, if he catches you, he’ll rip your body apart.”

He stopped and put a finger to his lips and pointed to the kitchen, Dominic had heard movement in there, that where he’d taken her, he was sure of it. He raised his gun and pushed open the kitchen flaps with Thomas a couple of paces behind.

Bernard lifted his head and glanced around the kitchen. “When I took over the running of the Stockholm club, this kitchen had been shut down by environment health. I spent a bastard fortune turning it into the best equipped kitchen in the city.” Finally, he looked at Dominic. “Once, I’d got the kitchen I wanted, I then hunted down the best god damned chef in Bradford. I did all this for you, Dominic and you know it.”

He choked back the torrent of emotions that threatened to overpower his already battered psyche. Oh Jesus, in his own way, Bernard was pleading to Dominic. He wanted him to untie the horrible man.

Bernard sighed, “I know what you must be thinking, I heard what he told you and I won’t lie. Yes, I did put a gun to his head but only to kick him into action.”

“Like you did to me upstairs?” spat Dominic.

“Yes!” he cried. “Just like that. For crying out loud, Dominic, you haven’t got an aggressive bone in your body. If I hadn’t kicked you up the fucking arse, you’d be dead by now.”

“You sent me out there to blinking die!” he screamed. “You knew Douglas was on that coach.”

“If sent you to die, why did I allow you to keep the gun? I told you that I needed people around me who are strong.” He smiled, “And you are strong, you’ve proved that.”

“Don’t listen to him, Dominic.”

“Talbot’s been here. Untie me and I’ll tell you what he wants with us.”

Dominic shook his head, “I don’t believe any of your words, you are only saying what you think I want to hear.” He walked past the man, heading for the fire exit. “I don’t think you know anything, Bernard.”

The door behind Thomas opened and Marlene fell in, she looked into Dominic’s eyes, “He’s letting us go,” she said. “If we stay here, Talbot will eat us.”

“Untie me!” shouted Bernard, “Get me the fuck out of here.”

“You ain’t going anywhere,” snarled Talbot, following Marlene through the door. “I need more of my kind and you are my next candidate.”

Talbot grabbed Thomas and threw him over Bernard’s head. “Open that freezer door and stand back, lad. It’s time to reunite the lovers.”

Thomas did as he was commanded. He fell back as the door was pushed wide open when he pulled the lever. Dominic watched in horror as a naked girl dived on the screaming club owner. Talbot laughed aloud when she sunk her teeth into his cheek.

“That should do it, let’s not get too carried away.”

He grabbed her hair and pulled the groaning woman off Bernard, Talbot then pressed the side of her head against the wall, the man giggled like a child when the palm of his hand broke through her skull.

“It feels like I’ve just pushed my hand into a bowl of non drip paint, how weird.”

Dominic silently wept for the poor girl.

“Amazing,” breathed Talbot, “did you see how she went ignored all of you and went straight for him?” he licked his fingers then looked down at Bernard, he wasn’t moving. “You’d best go now. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”

Thomas skirted past the two men and grabbed Marlene’s hands. Dominic saw Bernard begin to stir.

“It’s working!” Talbot fell to his knees and stroked the man’s cheeks, “I can already hear his thoughts.”

Dominic walked toward his companions, he sighed then pushed them through the door before raising his gun and shooting Bernard in the face. Talbot’s head spun around, “You fucker!” he snarled, “I’m going to eat your fucking heart for that.”

Dominic jumped back as the man climbed off the shattered body. He fired again, the bullet took Talbot in the throat, the big man kept on coming. He whimpered and pressed the trigger again, this time nothing happened. He threw the empty gun at Talbot and followed his friends into the lounge.

“What did you do that for?” cried Thomas, “He said we could go.”

Dominic looked back, the man was crawling out of the kitchen, “Marlene, take him upstairs, you know where to go.”

“Why did you shoot him?”

“He was making another monster, Marlene. I’m sorry, I couldn’t let him.” Dominic pushed them over to the stairs.

Dominic turned to see Talbot standing up; the hole in the man’s throat had already healed.

“Now what are you going to do, little man?” he rasped. “You’re out of ammo and luck. I’m going to tear you into little pieces. You’ll be screaming for me to kill you quickly.”

To his relief, he saw that those two had heeded his advice, perhaps he should have gone with them, Bernard was bound to have another weapon stashed away somewhere, then he looked at the unmarked man, he’d need a blinking cannon to take him down. Talbot advanced. Dominic turned and ran into the vestibule, he had one chance left, his life was over but his sacrifice may allow his friends to live. Talbot was right behind him and closing fast, he must have realised what he was about to do.

Dominic threw both bolts back, Talbot roared and ran at him, he grabbed the handle and opened the door. Dozens of the things spilled into the vestibule, they climbed other each other to get to Talbot, the big man spun around and ran for the door but it was too late, a young boy and a blonde woman climbed onto his back, biting him like mad dogs.

Talbot fell to the floor as more and more piled on top of him, he then saw one of the things look directly at him, it moaned then shuffled toward him, Dominic sobbed as more of them took an interest in him, he realised that he didn’t want to die. The man ran into the lounge, he looked back and saw half a dozen had followed him in. They were already by the stairs, he couldn’t escape. He was doomed. Dominic closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

A pair of hands fell upon his shoulders and dragged him back. Dominic smelt disinfectant and the subtle odour of male pee. He opened his eyes to see the singer smiling at him.

“That man was saving me for later.” He leaned against the toilet door and shivered, “I heard him inside my head, he told me that he planned to share me with your boss. I’m so glad they are dead.”

Dominic took the singer’s hand and gently squeezed, he felt a delicious thrill when the man squeezed back.

“My name is Andrew and so I’m happy you’re here with me.”

Dominic gazed into the man’s eyes, he smiled. “So am I.”

The end