The Fungus

“Yes, there is that,” conceded Carter. “But you two have been lucky so far. Perhaps those drugs have given you permanent immunity.”

“Perhaps,” said Wilson though he didn’t believe it for a second.

After a pause, Carter said, “An odd choice for this expedition. Your traveling companion, I mean.”

“Kimberley? At first I didn’t think so. Seemed as hard as nails. But then when she found out the Megacrine drug wasn’t all it was cracked up to be she began to go to pieces. I guess she believed she was 100 percent safe from the fungus, otherwise she would never have come.”

“And why exactly has she come?”

“That, Dr. Carter, is a good question.”

Kimberley moved some distance away from the truck, taking care to avoid the still-smoldering remains of the creatures. The knot of terror in the pit of her stomach was like an unbearable physical pain. She felt so scared and helpless, but there was nowhere she could run, nowhere she could hide to avoid the inevitable infection. It was probably growing inside her already.

At the beginning the odds for pulling off her gamble had seemed in her favor, but now.

She squatted down amid the rubble of the building. At least her knee was feeling better. Something rustled behind her. She was just turning her head to see when a hand was clamped over her mouth and she was pulled roughly backward.

She tried to scream but couldn’t make a sound. Then the hand withdrew. She opened her mouth to draw breath but as she did so something rubbery was thrust into it, gagging her. She recognized the foul taste of fungus.

The next thing she knew she was being pulled along by her feet like a human sled. She tried to resist, digging her fingers into the ground, but it was useless. The fungal matting covering the road was too smooth.

As she was pulled quickly along, her head was gently buffeted by undulations and small growths in the carpet of fungus. Soon she was feeling quite dazed.

It was some time before she was able to get a clear look at what had captured her. Eventually she was able to keep her head raised long enough to see. There were two of them—one holding each leg—both very thin and emaciated. In the dim moonlight she saw ulcerous craters all over their backs.

She had no idea how far they’d traveled from the truck when the creatures finally stopped and let go of her legs. The continual buffeting had left her semi-conscious and at first she was only half aware that she was hearing voices.

“Go on—you first.”

“No, no. I’ll wait—all that running—have to catch my breath.”

They sounded like two people suffering from very bad laryngitis. She wondered what they were talking about.

“You’re scared you can’t do it any more.”

“I can. I just need a bit of time. Go on. You warm her up for me. I can see you’re ready from here. it’s enormous.”

Christ, she thought, they’re going to rape me. I’ve come all this way to be gang-banged by two pathetic, dying zombies.

She tried to sit up but as she did so she was punched in the face. She fell back onto the fungus, bright lights flashing in her eyes.

Then her legs were being roughly parted. A heavy body, hot and sticky, was suddenly on top of her and at the same time she felt something being brutally thrust into her. It was unnaturally large and it hurt like hell.

Her horror and disgust gave her extra strength. She violently wrenched her body to one side, simultaneously giving the rapist a powerful shove with her arms.

There was a distinct crunch. Then a thin, wailing scream. She looked up and saw him kneeling there clutching at his crotch. Blood spurted out between his fingers.

His companion cried, “What’s wrong? What did she do to you?”

The other one just continued to scream. It was then that Kimberley became aware that he was still inside her. She realized that his grotesque member was so diseased with fungus it had simply snapped off.

Her revulsion sent a hot stream of vomit rushing up her throat. She was noisily sick, getting rid of the chunks of her fungus gag. Then she reached between her legs, trying to extract.

A hand grabbed her hair, jerked her head around. She found herself staring into what was once a face. She’d seen such faces before. In Africa. On untreated leprosy victims.

“I’m gonna kill you for what you done to me!” the face screeched.

Then, somewhere nearby, there was a sound like an animal burping very loudly and the top half of the face ceased to exist. The thing slumped toward her, spattering her with its blood. She screamed and shoved it away from her.

Its companion obviously didn’t know what was going on. It was looking around wildly in all directions. The hidden animal made a much longer sound this time and the creature’s body jerked and shuddered as if it were trying to shake itself to pieces. Then it fell.

Silence.

A figure stepped into view out of the shadows of a building. And then she heard a familiar voice say, in a drunken slur, “It’s the British Army to the rescue, Doc. And not bad shooting if I do say so myself.”

It was Slocock. The feeling of relief was so acute, she almost passed out. “Thank God,” she gasped.

He came closer, and she was able to see his face.

She started to scream.

5

Slocock couldn’t understand what was wrong with Kimberley. Here he’d just saved her from those two stinking pox-bags and she was acting like he was Count Dracula out for a bite.

“Here, Kim, it’s me! Good ol’ Sergeant Slocock. The man with the magic fingers.” He bent over her, brushing the thick hair out of his eyes (it was amazing how quickly it had grown). But she just screamed again and pushed herself away from him, scuttling backwards on her hands and heels like a giant crab.

The hair! That’s why she didn’t recognize him. It probably made him look 10 years younger, at least.

He started after her, saying, “Kim, you silly bitch, it’s me. I’ve just got more hair, that’s all.”

She sprang to her feet, turned and ran—slipping and sliding over the fungus. He cursed to himself and started to follow her. No telling what other trouble the silly slut would get herself into if he didn’t catch up with her.

He yelled her name again but she put on speed and disappeared around a corner. He hurried after her— and ran straight into the gateway of hell.

All he saw was a brilliant red flash that rushed straight at him and consumed him. The next moment the fluid of his eyeballs had solidified like the boiled white of an egg. He felt his flesh crackling and shriveling, but so far his shocked nervous system hadn’t been able to register any pain. For a few terrible seconds Slocock was aware of what was happening to him and then, mercifully, the intense heat detonated the 9mm ammunition in the remaining clip stuck in his belt. One of the bullets penetrated his brain.

Wilson switched off the flame-thrower and warily approached the smoldering, blackened shape. He’d been surprised when he’d heard the ammunition going up. He hadn’t noticed that the creature was armed.

He sighed and he stared at the charred form. He didn’t like the way he was finding it easier to use this horrible weapon on the creatures. A bad sign.

He looked around for Kimberley. At first he couldn’t see her, but then spotted her squatting on the ground some distance away. “Kimberley, you okay?” he called as he approached her.

“Stay away from me!” she cried. “Don’t come near me!” He stopped, frowning, then turned to Carter, who