The Virus, Lee, Damien [summer beach reads .txt] 📗

short-lived. A fire door on one of the lower levels broke the silence like a discharged gun. The door crashed against the wall as a series of footfalls bounded up the stairwell. Amy looked over the railing, catching sight of two men sprinting up towards her. She made to flee, but stopped when she heard panicked exertions echoing amongst the footfalls. The two weren’t working in unison. One was pursuing the other.

She looked over the railing again. The distance between the men had decreased. They had reached the second level and were approaching the third. Amy looked around for anything she could use to defend herself. But the stairs were empty. Within seconds, the pair would reach her. She made to turn, but stopped as a loud thud echoed from the level below. The man had been caught. A delighted screech bounded off the walls as a scuffle broke out.

Instinct took over, and without thinking, Amy bounded down and turned to the next flight. She found the pair clinched on the stairs, both grappling to gain the upper hand.

“Ben?”

She gasped as the security guard’s face came into view beneath his frenzied attacker. Another noise sounded below as a door crashed open. With it came a flurry of footfalls as more sprinted to join the fray.

Amy darted forward and swung a kick at Ben’s assailant. She struck the man’s head, sending him reeling down the stairs. She saw him land in a heap at the bottom before he was joined by others. A multitude of men, women, and children, all foaming at the mouth, stared up at the pair.

“Move!”

Amy yanked Ben to his feet as the crowd bounded up the stairs towards them. They ran, their footfalls adding to the crescendo filling the stairwell. They reached the fourth floor, where Ben shouldered open the door. Amy followed, aware that it was too late to voice her concern.

“We need something to barricade it!” Ben said. He slammed the door shut and applied the thumb-turn lock.

Amy glanced around the ward until her eyes fixed on a large, metal filing cabinet down the hallway. It was then that she saw the gore-filled corridors for the first time. Blood had spattered nearly every inch of white paint, while gobbets of flesh and muscle were strewn across the floor.

“We could use that,” she said, motioning towards the cabinet.

Not waiting for a response, she ran across the corridor. Ben followed, assisting her as she pried the cabinet away from the wall.

An almighty bang filled the ward. Their pursuers had reached the door.

“Do you think it’ll hold?” she shouted over the wailing and pounding from the stairwell.

“I don’t know. Let’s just get it over there.”

They shoved the cabinet, making slow progress across the floor. Yearning cries accompanied the assault on the door. They were primitive. More animal than human. When the cabinet was almost in place, Amy felt flickers of relief in her stomach. That was until the sound of splintering wood accompanied the banging.

“Hurry!” Ben yelled as cracks spider-webbed through the door. Amy pushed with all her might until the cabinet completely covered the wooden frame. She staggered away, gasping for breath. The hammering was still prominent, but muffled behind the steel cabinet. The blood-drenched corridor seemed almost trivial against the terror that lurked on the back stairs. She glanced over at Ben, who was leaning against the wall, struggling to catch his breath. Regaining her composure, Amy approached him as he mopped his brow.

“Tell me what the hell’s going on,” she urged.

“You don’t know?”

“No, tell me!”

“Come here.” He pushed himself from the wall and motioned for her to follow him.

Amy watched as he made his way over to a window that looked out towards the front of the hospital. She approached, peering out as Ben stepped aside. She felt the breath seize in her lungs as the scene of slaughter and destruction met her eyes.

Everywhere she looked people were being ripped apart, dragged out of cars, or tackled as they tried to flee. Fires consumed overturned vehicles and even some assailants as they pursued the survivors. Standing on the fourth floor gave her a good view of Sunnymoor, and an even greater idea of how far the infection had spread. Plumes of smoke drifted high in the distance at various points throughout the town. Everywhere, it seemed, had succumbed to the bouts of violence.

Amy turned away, unable to look at any more people being slaughtered. With an anguished cry, she sank to the ground, hugging her knees.

“How could this happen?”

“I don’t know,” Ben replied, glancing around the blood-soaked corridor. “But we can’t stay here.”

“I have to get out of here. I need to check my family is safe.”

She went to rise, but stopped when Ben placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Wait. Did you hear that?”

A clattering sound caused Amy to flinch.

“I don’t think this floor’s empty.”

Ben’s eyes remained fixed on the end of the corridor. The screams Amy had heard replayed in her mind. She held her breath as the sound of tiptoeing footsteps reached them from around the corner. Whoever it was, they were trying to avoid detection. Yet the silent atmosphere of the ward allowed the pair to pick up the quietest of disturbances. She turned and watched Ben grab a fire extinguisher from the wall. Holding it aloft, he pressed onward. Amy followed, her anxiety increasing with every step. The footsteps drew nearer. Amy looked on, prepared to meet the wild stare of a demented stranger. But the man that came into view looked just as surprised as them.

“Terry?” Ben exclaimed. He lowered his makeshift weapon as the older man recoiled.

“Ben?”

“You two know each other?” Amy asked.

“Yeah, Terry’s one of the maintenance guys,” Ben replied.

“I’m the only maintenance guy now,” Terry muttered, cupping the back of his