‘Left!’ he shouted at the soldier who, in his haste and desire to keep moving, had just passed the turning. Castle changed direction, followed closely by the rest of the men who were all somehow managing to keep a comparable pace. Bernard Heath and Steve Armitage in particular were moving with unexpected velocity and newfound determination. Pure adrenaline and fear was driving them to run like men half their ages.
Disorientated by its overgrown appearance and the sudden effort of the sprint through the streets, it took Phil Croft a while to recognise the court building. As he swerved to avoid another lurching body his eyes locked onto the steep steps which led up from ground level to the court’s imposing bronze-tinted glass entrance doors. Cooper, Castle and Heath were already there.
They held the doors open for the others and then slammed them shut and barred them once they were all inside. Half of the men dropped to their knees and struggled to catch their breath. The remaining three realised immediately that there were suddenly movements in the shadows all around them. Within thirty seconds some fifteen ragged figures had appeared in the building’s vast reception area. Countless more slammed into the door and began to try and beat their way inside.
‘Get rid of them,’ Cooper ordered. ‘Go for the head and try and take them out. We’ll get this area cleared and then we can slow it down a gear.’
Looking round for inspiration he picked up a nearby metal tube (which had previously held up a sign instructing visitors to the court to wait to be searched by security) and moved towards the closest body. What had once been a policewoman dragged itself towards him with willowy arms outstretched. He swung the heavy metal tube through the air and smashed it into the side of the corpse’s head. Deep crimson blood, almost black, began to ooze steadily from a gash above the body’s shattered cheekbone.
It moved forward again. Cooper lashed out again and again, his fifth strike finally making the pitiful creature crumble, leaving it limp and motionless on the dusty marble floor.
Armitage stood in numb terror as an elderly cadaver stumbled towards him. With empty, emotionless eyes it stared at him and he found himself unable to look away or to react in any other way. Suddenly too close to be avoided, the lorry driver screwed up his face in disgust and lifted his arms to prevent the pathetic figure from advancing any further forward. Although the body squirmed relentlessly in his grip, the survivor’s strength was clearly too much for it to overcome. Becoming suddenly more confident now that he was aware of the physical gulf between the living and the dead, Armitage pushed the body away and into the nearest wall with angry force. The corpse stopped and then turned and began to move towards him again. This time Armitage grabbed hold of the rotting head, just below the chin, and, with weeks of pent up fear and frustration behind him, he slammed it against the wall, almost crushing it completely.
They were cutting through the bodies with incredible ease.
The lethargic movements, slow reactions and comparative weakness of the cadavers was no match for the strength and coordination of even the most tired and unfit survivor. In less than five minutes the reception area had been cleared.
‘Good job,’ Croft said. He was breathing heavily.
Paul Castle acknowledged their efforts.
‘Bloody hell,’ he gasped, clearly surprised, ‘they were nothing, were they? Christ we could have torn a thousand of them apart…’
‘But there are millions out there,’ Bernard Heath reminded him. The university lecturer’s voice was solemn and resigned.
‘Don’t think that’s it,’Cooper said. ‘There will be more of them around the building. Just keep moving and don’t let your guard down.’
With that he began to move towards a nearby corridor.
‘Where you going?’ asked Armitage, wiping his grease and gore-covered hands on the back of his trousers. Cooper gestured towards a brass sign on the wall.
‘Juror’s suite,’ he replied. His answer was met with blank looks from the others. ‘Jurors sit in on trials,’ he explained.
‘Trials happen in court rooms. Prisoners stand in the dock in court rooms…
‘And…?’ pressed Castle.
‘And the prisoners have to get from the prison vans to the dock, don’t they? We’ll work our way back through the building.’
39
‘Christ,’ mumbled Clare as she looked down from a high window onto the remains of the huge crowd outside the university building. ‘Look at them! Just look at them!’
Donna had been sitting silently on the stairs holding her head in her hands, waiting impatiently and anxiously for the men to return. They had been gone for almost an hour. She got up and slowly walked over to where Clare was standing.
‘Bloody hell…’ she gasped as she stared into the mayhem below.
The bodies were moving with more force and speed than she’d ever seen before. Those nearest the centre of the city were continuing to break away from the main group and were stumbling away from the university complex in the general direction in which the six survivors had disappeared earlier. This wasn’t any random coincidence. It was obvious that the corpses were moving with a purpose and a new found drive. And as the figures continued to stagger away, so more and more of them followed.
‘What’s happening to them?’ Clare asked. ‘What are they doing?’ Down in the middle of the crowd she could see bodies beginning to fight with others to move through the immense gathering.
‘It’s like they’re waking up,’ Donna replied under her breath.
In horror she pressed her face against the cold glass and watched the shadowy figures continue to move. In some ways it was almost as if they were beginning to herd like wild animals.
Their movements were unerringly similar to a shoal of fish or a flock of migrating birds slowed down to a fraction of their natural pace. The implications were devastating.
‘Where are you going?’ Clare wondered as Donna moved back towards the staircase. Her voice was trembling and light.
‘Back down to the others. Coming?’
Clare didn’t move.
‘Do you think they’re going to be able to get back…’
Donna shook her head and answered abruptly.
‘I don’t know. There are thousands and thousands of those bloody things out there. All it’s going to take is for one of the men to get caught and…’
‘But why is this happening? Why have they started to behave like this now?’
Donna shrugged her shoulders.
‘Who knows,’ she replied. ‘Whatever the reason, we need to get away from this place as soon as we can.’
40
Having forced their way through the juror’s lounge, several connecting corridors and staircases and a vast and grandiose court room, the six survivors nervously worked their way back from the dock and eventually found themselves at the entrance to the prisoner cells buried deep within the bowels of the court complex. The other five men stood and watched anxiously as Phil Croft struggled to remove a bunch of keys from the belt of a long- deceased prison guard lying stiff and twisted on the floor.
Croft yanked the keys free, stood up and began to try and unlock the strengthened metal door which was preventing them from moving any further forward.
‘Come on,’ Paul Castle moaned. He could hear more movement in other parts of the building around them.
‘I’m going as fast as I can,’ hissed Croft as he systematically worked his way through the keys. His hands were shaking through a combination of nerves, exhaustion and pure adrenaline. With a welcome click and a heavy thud the seventh key opened the door.
‘Well done,’ said Cooper as he pushed past. He marched quickly down a narrow corridor which opened out
