Work Text:
It starts slowly. A little red below each of his temples, also on the top of his face. Maybe on his chin too.
Then it spreads. The rash becomes wider. Another wound emerges on the nose. It rises to the front. The temples become a horizontal line on the jaw, the nose joins the chin.
Top and bottom of the skull, left and right cheeks. On each of the cardinal points of his face grows a wound. The skin is like eaten by acid, revealing the raw flesh below, in a mix of blisters and blood vessels.
Until the four wounds merge, and a gigantic red plus sign smears his face.
We all look at him, horrified. Well, except him. He grins a smile.
- Like what you see?
- Are you ... okay dude?
I'm honestly astonished he could still talk.
- m ... fine . His voice is some sort of creak. Better than fine. Never feel so well
Half between a laugh, and a muted scream
- Humm you... your face? I said
- What about yours? , he turns his head suddenly to me , wiring his crazy eyes into mine. Between the branches of the giant cross on his face, wide eyes. Ecstatic.
- Your face is ... you may want to see it
- No ! whisper Evelyn. Don't look at it.
- Whatabouit? he cracks, and jumps on the entrance broken mirror. A fraction of surprise passes in his eyes, then he laughs.
- That's... awesome ! so red ! his fingers dig into the wound of his face.
- It's... good you take it so well.
- I want more red !
- We need to bring you to the hospital!
- Wanna see more red?
- How could we take him there ? You see the things that's happens outside, we will never... Evelyn stops. Her eyes fall . To the piece of glass Mike just stab into her belly.
- Told you it would be red !
- Mike, what did you..! Scream Steve He didn't have time to finish his sentence, before Mike stabs him too, and he collapses to the ground.
I'm frozen. I can't move.
- Meh... Too fast. says Mike, looking at the two corps. Then his eyes fall on me.
Next time, it will be slow.
No good story starts with a glass of milk.
It wasn't a good story.
A normal day at the office. Stressful. Boringly stressful. Emergency was the norm. Doing for yesterday the order of every day. We are chronically dangerously understaffed. Especially considering that I was doing the jobs of my coworker.
I hate my job so much. And my coworkers even more.
Specially Mike.
Mike is good at his job. Very good. Especially when he dares to do it. There is only one thing more frustrating than spending hours filling purposeless files, forms and tables on a little screen: Having a coworker able to do it in only 5 minute. And there is only one thing more frustrating than having a coworker ridiculously better than you: Having to lose hours to do the said coworker job, because he passes ALL his god-damn time smoking his frigging menthol.
And Scott let it pass. My useless, flaccid, obese manager Scott let Mike take all the pause he wants, but suddenly get an energy boost to point-out I'm late in my work.
The job mostly consists of selling over-priced stuffs they don't need to over-greedy people who can't afford them. So we got them a credit. Get interests in bonus of the too much they already paid. A whole business model. Scott is very proud of startup-ing that idea.
I'm not a bad man. I just do this stupid job to support my wife and my daughter. To get them a good life.
But for some reason I can't focus on my job today. The street sounds louder than usual.
The only good perk of my job is Tony. We start working here at the same time. He instantly becomes my work-mate. Same favorite football team, same dream-suburb-house but still-not-happy-life, same taste for poor taste jokes.
He quickly became my best friend. And is the only reason I'm still working here. In fact, the main reason I'm so piss-off today is that we hadn't had our coffee together this morning. There was a big match yesterday ! But NO, I had to argue with my wife about bringing back the hedge-trimmer to her dad today. And I arrived work late, which got the attention of Scott.
I shouldn't think like that of Laura. We just bought a suburb' house, our dream since we married. But we need to renovate the patio before daring to show it to anyone , and the work-shop is driving me crazy.
I'm not a bad man. I just wish I had more free time.
And that this sound of the outside stop
- Hey, what is that ? Said our accountant Evelyn, looking out the windows.
Steve comes near her, with some stuff to sign. A moment, I think he's gonna say something but no. He stays here, watching the window too. Meh, that's probably fine. I get back to my work. Don't want Scott on my back again for leaning. At least I try, but all I could think of is how many hours I have left until the house. Time pass slowly this afternoon.
When I get up for a coffee, they stand still glued to the windows. Steve has let down his papers, who slowly fall on the floor.
He didn't pick them back. He just stays there, watching outside.
I hang over to see what got their attention.
- What the...
Burning cars. People running. Screams.
Seems to be some sort of riot down-here.
Quite a nasty one. Blood. Fire. Fight everywhere. My eyes fall on a looted shop. I expect to see some black guy exiting holding some stolen electronics, but the first people to get out drag some undefined thing behind him.
A body?
Then out of nowhere someone smashes a TV screen to his neck. Again. And again.
What the...
"Where are the cops", I seek them on the mob. Crazy peoples everywhere. Fighting. Fucking. Laughing. I finally found a police car. Flipped.
Half on fire.
Which didn't seem to preoccupy so much its occupants, because I can see two men in half their police uniform fucking doggy-style against the burning vehicle.
Seriously? I can't believe what I see. They don't have better to do?
One of the cops rises his head, and his eyes catch mines. I frown to convey how much I'm disappointed by his behavior.
- We should close the windows, slowly said Scott
The cop smiles back at me, and his coworker starts pointing at us, with a terrible grin. I realize he seems to have some sort of sign painted on both their faces.
- Close it. Close it NOW.
The sign. A big, red...
I can't look more closely, because that prick of Scott slams the window's blinds.
- Hey, I was watching!
- Out of question, they will see us.
- And what ? That's hooligans, they do that for the attention.
He shakes his head.
- I swear those are fucking commies. We are white collar. You see what they have done outside...
what do you think those leftist gonna do to us once they got here?
Suddenly someone bangs at the door of the office. We exchange a look, terrified. We are on the third floor, in a building full of other companies. It's quite unlikely someone flees from the street and comes here seeking refuge.
- Open me please ! They are crazy outside !
It's Mike.
A crazy laugh echoes in the stair.
- Balls, she followed me ... open , guys !
- What should we do!
- We can't let him outside!
- But if it came in...
- Fuck-you, guys ! Scream Scott, snatch the door wide open. None of us even try to block him. None one us help either, when he drags Mike inside, then slam the door back in a squishing sound.
It didn't close.
A hand is blocking the way. Long feminine fingers with pink polish covered in red blood. Grabbing Mike through the opening, nails deeply in the flesh of his arm.
- Shit.
- Get her off me! A hysterical pitched laugh answers him. Followed by the sound of a crazy stamping on the stair. Someone else is coming up. Something crazy. Something like her.
We have to close this fucking door.
We all jump on-it, try to slam it, and slam again on her arm. It doesn't move. She still laughs. Even when we smash the door again, even when we could hear the distinctive sound of her bones cracking, she still laughs. "She don't care about the pain", I think . "She enjoys it." The cavalcade gets close. I hear the hysterical evil screams storming in the hallway.
- Move ! scream Scott to me.
I didn't see his gun until I heard the shoots. The wrist explodes in a splash of red and blood.
The door finally shuts, and Mike immediately rips off his arm the nails of the severed hand, throwing-it to the ground.
My eyes are stuck on Scott, and his gun. I always thought of him as a placid waste of space. I would never guess he had a gun. Even less he knew how to use it.
- Holly-shit what was that...
- That was her or us.
- Guys... starts Evelyn
- When did you get a gun?
- Guys !
- What, I turn aggressively to Evelyn . She slowly points her finger at Mike.
It starts slowly. A little red below each of his temples, also on the top of his face. Maybe on his chin too.
Then it spreads. The rash becomes wider. Another wound emerges on the nose. It rises to the front. The temples become a horizontal line on the jaw, the nose joins the chin.
Top and bottom of the skull, left and right cheeks. On each of the cardinal points of his face grows a wound. The skin is like eaten by acid, revealing the raw flesh below, in a mix of blisters and blood vessels.
Until the four wounds merge, and a gigantic red plus sign smears his face.
We all look at him, horrified. Well, except him. He grins a smile.
- Like what you see?
- Are you ... okay dude?
I'm honestly astonished he could still talk.
- m ... fine . His voice is some sort of creak. Better than fine. Never feel so well
Half between a laugh, and a muted scream
- Humm you... your face? I said
- What about yours? , he turns his head suddenly to me , wiring his crazy eyes into mine. Between the branches of the giant cross on his face, wide eyes. Ecstatic.
- Your face is ... you may want to see it
- No ! whisper Evelyn. Don't look at it.
- Whatabouit? he cracks, and jumps on the entrance broken mirror. A fraction of surprise passes in his eyes, then he laughs.
That's... awesome ! so red ! his fingers dig into the wound of his face.
- It's... good you take it so well.
- I want more red !
- We need to bring you to the hospital!
- Wanna see more red?
- How could we take him there ? You see the things that's happens outside, we will never... Evelyn stops. Her eyes fall . To the piece of glass Mike just stab into her belly.
- Told you it would be red !
- Mike, what did you..! Scream Steve He didn't have time to finish his sentence, before Mike stabs him too, and he collapses to the ground.
I'm frozen. I can't move.
- Meh... Too fast. says Mike, looking at the two corps. Then his eyes fall on me. Next time, it will be slow.
- You think they saw us? I suddenly come back to reality. I'm in a closet with Tony. How we escape Mike and his cross, I don't know.
- We need to get out of here.
- How? They are everywhere. And there is still the thing that bite Mike in the stairs. I abruptly realize we are not alone. Scott is also with us.
- They?
- The guys from the IT got out of their den to try to arrest Mike to ... to do... to Molly. They succeed in locking him in the bathroom but ... they all have this giant plus on their face too, now.
No need to add any word. We only hear their scream, outside the cupboard, somewhere near the cafeteria.
What is that shit anyway? Dono. Some kind of zombie virus.
- What ? You can be serious. It's reality ! not some sort of stupid movie with people coming out of the dead because of some virus or something.
- I don't know, okay? All I know is seconds after being bitten or something, you got a fucking plus on your face and you start to torture and rape everything.
- That's not zombies ! I storm. That's psycho serial killer shit. Not dead people eating human beings.
- They eat Molly ...
- What?
- They have eaten her. They cut her leg, and nuke it in the microwave of the break room.
- I don't get-it. Wasn't she ... you now... bitten or something?
- Turn into them? Yes. Didn't change a thing. Once they run out of people, they started to bite each other's throats.
- At least it makes one of them less.
- Not even close. I don't know how, but she is still alive. Who do you think got the idea to cook the leg before eat-it?
- We need to get out of here. While they are busy ... cooking, or I don't know what.
- There is still the emergency exit, I remember
- We already think of that. Too far from us. Too close to them
- Then we need a distraction.
The excitement falls instantaneously. One of the three of us has to grab their attention. Sacrifice himself for the two others.
How to designate "this lucky winner"? Short straw? I still have one luck out of three to be fucked. Way too much. Stone scissor paper? I'm even worse at it.
- I should do it.
We both turn to Scott.
- I should do it, he repeats. You both have family. I don't. Well, just my mother, but she would be okay. She...
I probably should mention that Tony's wife and son, 'Mady' and 'Jason' are fake. Pure invention of Tony for getting time off for "school meetings" and other stuff. But I won't. After all , it's not like all the parent craps who get me out of work early are real too. I mean, they are real. It's just that it's my wife who go, while I go to the bar with Tony, for some "unexpected work emergency"
- How do you plan to do this?
- I was thinking, attracting them outside the cafeteria, maybe near the entrance desk? It would be far enough they won't see you sneaking the emergency exit. And I could get out of here by the main entrance. Take my chance outside
- There is still the one waiting at the main entrance. The one who bite Mike, I remember
- Ho, for him, I got this. I didn't realize he still had his gun until he strum-it at his face. I have no idea which model it is, all I know is that we have a gun. A real one. Black metal and all I've already emptied it on the one at the door, though. All I've got left is... this. He does this move I've seen in so many movies, opening some sort of valve in the top of the gun, revealing a lonely silver cylinder.
- There is still a bullet in the chamber, though. The last one. Not enough to kill all those bastards. But enough to make a shot who counts. It's stupid, but since this seem contagious I was thinking..." He taps the gun to this head. "... keeping it for me. If things go south."
I don't know if his plan could work. My eyes meet Tony. All I know is we need this gun.
- Scott... I start.
- I don't think this will work, continue Tony
- There is no proof the ones who infect Mike still there
- And if she is still here, she probably bleeds to death.
- You probably even need this bullet!
- But us...
- We could make it count !
- One of us who shot ...
- The other brawl.
He looks at us, incredulous.
- You think you will make a better use of it?
We both nod. I don't mention none of us have shot before, nor have ever fought anyone.
He seems to hesitate, then, to my disappointment, gives the gun to Tony.
- Here, he said. Make them pay.
He gives the gun to Tony. I immediately wish Scott had given it to me, even if honestly I don't see what difference it would make.
None of us know how to use-it anyway.
I'm not a bad man. I just need to get back to get out of here . Alive. And without a cross in my face.
The plan works almost perfectly. Despite Scott never reaching the main door. He got caught near the front desk, by an intern with glasses and a big plus in the face. But their fight got the attention of the cafeteria's infected, freeing us the path to the fire exit.
As soon as we are in the emergency stair, the fire alarm is ringing. Automatic trigger. And suddenly we are overflowed with people as all the other stages throw their employees in the stair.
-What the...
Then it hit me : They are from the upper stages. They didn't see the horror outside.
For them, it's just a fire-alarm.
Even an exercise, maybe.
We are stuck in this flow of unsuspicious peoples.
Shit
- We are going to be stuck with them
- We should tell them. They don't know what's happening on the street.
- No wait !
- What?
- The more we are to go out at the same time, the less likely we are to be picked up by those bastards down-here. I silently nod. I agree. It's in our best interest to not alert others.
I'm not a bad man. I just rather them die instead of me.
It works perfectly. Their first reaction when they hit the street is misunderstanding. People running everywhere. Some screaming, Some laughing. Then they see the cross, or the blood. Or the guy rapped by a chainsaw. They didn't get time for a second reaction, as they are already rushing on them.
We run.
Hell is everywhere.
One minute I'm afraid they run after us, but they seem more into our slower, horrified,
just-realizing-whats-happening coworkers.
I'm not a bad man. I'm just faster than them.
We pause behind a dumpster in front of an electronic store, to catch our breath. Despite the TVs on display throwing a flow of horror, the store seems miraculously intact. Probably no one here to gut. I take a look at some local news. Presenter is dead, his body carefully displayed on his chair, but a map of the country is still on display, showing riot and flame icons on all the big cities.
It seems like it's everywhere.
- We need a plan, articulate Tony, in a rattle. We need a plan, and we need it fast. Somewhere to go.
- How many times before the army strikes?
- No idea, says Tony. I would like to say any time now, but look at that shit. He points out the tv. It's everywhere. They are gonna clean the big cities first. secondary towns like us later. I doubt they will come here before tomorrow.
- Tomorrow, eh? We just have to find a place to pass the night, and tomorrow morning, the whole things gonna be finished, I promise.
- My house, I propose
- What?
- My home. It's only 10 miles until the house. It's a quiet neighborhood, and we just added fences to all the windows.
It's a lie. I live in a secluded neighborhood, but we won't have any specific protections or anything. It's just hidden in the back of some cul-de-sac. But I need to go back to my girls. Keep them safe. We could wait here until the military strikes a counter-attack.
I'm not a bad man. I just need to get back to my wife and daughter. To protect them from this madness. It's not a good plan, but once here, I could still find a better one for tomorrow. I have the whole night.
- So how do we get here?
I haven't the time to respond that a car crash on the nearest street. We look at each other, frozen. Not a big crash. The motor still rumbles. Just big enough to attract everyone attention
I'm ready to flee away when Tony grab my shoulder
- Wait.
- What?
- The motor is still running.
I turn back to see the car. The driver is battling with the airbag.
- It could probably still drive us
We are getting closer. The woman finally succeed in deflating the airbag, her broken nose dropping blood on her face. I can't clearly see her eyes, but no cross on her face.
It's a sports car. Two seats. Probably not her, judging the desperate bloody handprints on the windshield
- Are you okay, miss?
- Who is here?
As I open the car's door, I have a better view of her. Her left hand is literally nailed to the wheel by a portable drill.
- Help me...she whispers.
I hear a hysterical laughter coming from the other side of the street. And another. And another.
- They said they would let us go if I could drive like that until the end of the street.
In the place of her eyes there are only swirls of flesh. My look falls again on the drill clipping her to the wheel, while my mind is connecting the dots.
She is doomed. And we need the car. I tear the borer off her hand, and she crumbles down the street, leaving a trail of blood.
- No , she cries. I beg you , Don't let us to them ! A wimping cry follows her plea, as Tony opens the passenger side. A baby seat.
- Her name is Wendy, take at least her with you, she begs.
It's a sports car.
- Sorry, Tony said. There are only two seats. And we can't run holding a gun and a baby.
- My daughter, no ! she screams, as Tony slowly puts the cradle near her. Take her ! Only her ! Don't leave her to them !
We clack the car's doors. And storm_out as the mob is walking toward them. They don't seem interested in us.
Only in them.
I'm not a bad man. I just rather my friend alive instead of her baby.
The plan didn't work. We drive out of downtown relatively easily. Hell is everywhere. Rapes, tortures , butchering... . But the only other vehicles we cross are already crashed and burning, and no one cares if we drive on the sidewalk anyway. And frankly, I didn't care about knocking any of them.
The issues start once we arrive on the highway. I would have hoped the road was empty. I would have expected it to be congested. None of that.
All the cars are abandoned, and smashed on both sides of the road. In the middle, cleared of any vehicle, a narrow passage remains. Barely large enough for our car. And with a red bloody line snaking down the middle of the road.
- What caused that? I ask Tony, as I drive into it.
- No idea. Maybe those psychos hang someone behind some car?
As we talk, a yellow truck crosses-us on the opposite road, smashing all deserted vehicles on the opposite road, leaving a path similar to ours. Someone, or something small is dragged behind.
- Told you, said blandly Tony. I acquiesce. Except it's not a truck . It's a school-bus. I could swear I have seen the kids crying in the window
A sudden metallic racket make me jump on the brake, stopping our car.
It takes me a minute to realize it's not our motor, but the bus behind us. It smashed the central fence and banged into the already crashed cars, starting a U-turn.
My eyes cross Tony's. They saw us. Of course they would go after us
I smash the accelerator.
- Okay, we need an escape.
Distancing the bus was not that difficult. We are a sports-car. It's a school vehicle. It's still too close to my taste, but at least I couldn't see anymore the cross on the face of the driver in the mirror
The big issue is the continuous block of smashed cars all around the road. All exits are stuffed. And I don't know how far the highway is driveable.
"Probably not as far as I hope", I think, as we pass under a broken bridge. We need an exit. We need it now. This highway could come to a cliff at any moment. I desperately search for a way out when suddenly I see a familiar word in a panel, and suddenly recognize the landscape.
- We have arrived, I said to Tony.
- What?
- We have arrived. Santa Wood lawns, exit 9. It's my ward, my exit. Where my house is. My suburb.
- We can't exit here!
A burning car blocks the exit lane. Plussed folks are dancing around as we pass it.
- We can leave the car and continue on foot.
- They will follow us !
- It's a suburb ! A fucking maze ! They will never catch us in those streets.
- Okay. How do we exit the car?
- I stop the car, we jump to the side of the road. It's a bus. Heavy as a truck. At this speed, they will not be able to stop dead to go after us.
- Okay.
- At the count of 3?
- "One" Tony put the gun into his pocket. I put the drill into mine. It's the only weapon like I've been able to get.
- "Two" I block the wheel, and adjust my seatbelt
- "Three"
I hit the brake, and jump out of the door as soon as we barely stop. Tony does the same. We have just the time to exit the car that the bus hit us.
I'm blew away by the impact. Our car flies as the bus passes between me and Tony. Then stop . The bus had succeeded to stop. And instantly spill out his occupants and the road, in a human tide of laughing nightmares.
- Run ! I scream to Tony, as we slide down the lawn on the aisle, and slip between the first houses of my suburb. The area seems, at least until now, miraculously spared by the hell outside.
- Which street ?
- To the right. I scream to him as we run. "Then first left street. Then..."
- Wait, they are not following us ?
- What?
We stop. And look back.
Judging by the screams, our pursuers have forgotten us in favor of some barbecue party in a nearby garden. Nothing personal. They are just more interested in my oblivious not running neighbors than in us.
We quickly go hiding in the garden of a nearby house "for-sale" where we catch our breath, for the first time of the day. My legs collapse below me, unable to move anymore. Tony crumbles on a staging garden chair. We are so close. Only a few blocks until the house. Still, I allow myself the luxury of a break.
For a moment I think we are lucky. Time to time, a laugh or a stronger scream pierce through the perfectly trimmed hedge, but no one see us .
I'm not a bad man . I'm just so tired.
For a moment, everything seem calm. Only a freezing laugh, here and there. The sound of a crashing car. Someone who begs for his life. Then, the screams become more frequent. Smoke starts forming not that far away.
- Alright. Time to move.
But we are on foot. And it's a big suburb. The infection probably progresses way faster than we walk, because It didn't take long before we stumble into a group of plus-face, occupied to assemble dead bodies into a gruesome sculpture in the middle of the street. Half of them immediately stop their craft project to sprint at us. Bad luck. We start running again.
We have only two blocks until the home.
- They will catch us!
They quickly became hundreds. We run, but until where? They will catch us quickly. Or worse, follow us in my house.
The only weapons we have are my drill and Tony's gun. How do you repel an entire army with two duds, and only one gun with one bullet. And suddenly the solution hit me.
- Give me the gun.
- What ?
- I have an idea. Give me the gun.
He doesn't understand, but still, hands the weapon.
I immediately press the trigger. Aiming for his knee.
It explodes in a red of flesh and blood. He falls with a scream.
- What!!!? Why ?
I don't look back, I run away.
- Why ?!!
I speed up, but can still hear him screaming behind.
Until the laughs and the human horror tide surround him.
I'm not a bad man.
I just rather him instead of me.
I have to reach my house.
I have to find Laura.
I have this ridiculous hope that she would be there, safe.
In a corner of my mind I remember she had errands today. And Hannah is probably still at school.
The house!
Only one block until the house!
If I can reach it!
If Laura is there.
If I can close the door...
If I can lock all the windows, we will be saved.
Tomorrow will probably have its own lot of hell. But if I reach home, I would have the whole night to think about it.
To get a better plan.
To think how to be a better man.
Behind me, I can hear the hell trembling.
Just at the moment when I reach the door, I see her.
The neighbor's wife.
An old lady with a kitchen torch . And a cross on her face. I didn't think back. My first reflex is to punch her in the face.
Again.
And again.
Until her head is just a splash of blood on my patio. Her brain a mush in my hand. Her skull deeply encrusted in the wood of my door, and the knuckle of my fist.
Until she stops laughing.
I slam the door behind me.
- Honey, that's you?
She is alive ! Thanks so much, they are alive. I was so scared she wouldn't be here. That she would be doing some errands outside. Or worse, that she would be at her parents home, safe.
To give myself a semblance of normalcy, I turn my back on her, pretending to pose the drill on the entrance furniture, and grab a tissue to clean my wreaked bloody hands.
- I was supposed to bring back this thing to dad, she shows the hedge-trimmer on my left, but the school called. Apparently one of Hannah's teachers had an outburst or something, They sent every student home early. I can hear my Hannah doing some chores in the kitchen on my right.
- I don't know what's happening. The news said there are riots everywhere. I've heard screams outside. The house on the street corner is on fire, I tried to call the fire-department, but no one answered.
I take a look outside. A wonderful column of smoke emerges above our perfectly trimmed hedge. So exciting.
- Honey, what's happened to your face?
I straighten up , and see my face in the entrance mirror.
Some red have started appearing on my temples. Also front and chin.
I look at my kid, still tidying the dish in the cupboard.
Clean knives are waiting on the drier.
The hedge trimmer is still in the entry, waiting.
I got a drill.
And I have the whole night.