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

down his face as he placed his head in his hands.

“She’s gone. Gone, and it’s my fault.”

“What?”

Gordon’s breathing became heavy and a growl replaced his sobbing. “She’s gone. Gone, and it’s my fault!” With that, he lunged to his feet, causing the pair to step back. “All my fault!”

He snatched the tumbler from the table and hurled it against the wall. The glass shattered into a hundred pieces, showering the carpet in whisky-coated shards. They watched as he slumped back in his seat, staring blankly out of the window behind his desk. A few seconds passed, with only the dripping alcohol filling the silent atmosphere.

“What do you mean it’s your fault?” Ben asked. He stepped forward, taking a seat in one of the chairs opposite his father. Amy followed, eyeing the man cautiously as she sat down.

“Everything,” Gordon replied. “It’s all my fault. All the death. All the chaos. All those things!” He pointed an accusing finger out of the window. Ben followed his gaze, groaning when he spotted the herd of cows approaching the factory.

“We need to go.”

“What do you mean it’s your fault?” Amy pressed, ignoring the urgency in Ben’s voice.

“I spread it across the country. It’s my fault.”

“Why is it your fault?”

“I helped an old friend. His entire livestock was slaughtered. Eighty cows! He was going to go bust unless I helped him.”

Ben’s urgency disappeared as he fixed his father with a stern look. “What did you do, Dad?”

“I told him to bring them down. We stripped the meat and sent it out.”

“You sold infected meat?”

“I didn’t know it was infected! This was nearly two weeks before all this shit started. I told him I’d sell it on for him without any fuss. Then I started getting emails from different shops. They said their customers were reporting food poisoning. They were questioning my product and demanding an investigation. Every day, more and more complaints kept coming in. Then, they stopped.”

“How far did you transport it?” Ben asked.

Gordon looked up. Tears rolled down his face as he regarded the pair. “Nationwide.”

“Eighty cows? How did you manage to spread it that far?”

“Mince,” Gordon muttered. “We minced it with the other meat we had stored to cover it up.”

“So this entire thing started because of you?” Amy gasped.

Gordon nodded. “I was just trying to help him out. I didn’t know it would turn people into cannibals!”

“The food poisoning,” Amy gasped. “The hospital was overrun with cases of food poisoning. That’s how it started.”

Gordon nodded. His unfocused eyes staring at the desk.

A delighted screech resounded from the entrance of the factory. The undead animals had arrived.

“Right, c’mon we need to go,” Ben said. Amy leapt from her seat as he grabbed his father’s arm. “Dad, c’mon.”

The old man smiled knowingly.

“C’mon!” Ben snapped.

Gordon slipped his arm out of his son’s grasp and reached for his bottle of whisky. “It’s poetic, isn’t it?” he mused, more to himself than the others. “Almost like a form of justice.”

“What?”

“I’ve been slaughtering animals for thirty-five years. I built an empire from killing. Now it’s time for the animals to get their revenge.”

“Revenge? What are you talking about?”

“You better leave, son. As we speak, those delightful bovines will be making their way up the stairs.”

Amy glanced out into the factory. The undead cattle were ascending the stairwell. “He’s right, we need to get out of here,” she said.

Ben looked back at his father.

“Go on,” Gordon smiled, shaking his son’s hand. “I’d rather be in heaven with your mother and Francis than running around this shithole with you two.”

Ben smirked. He nodded and released his father’s hand. The metallic clatter of hooves on the walkway sounded as he stepped out of the office. The first of the crazed heifers was only a few meters away. It snarled at the pair before its head splattered under a hail of shotgun fire.

The couple retreated backward, firing at the animals approaching the office door.

“Stop wasting your bullets and get out of here!” Gordon bellowed.

The pair continued to unload their guns, leaving behind a procession of mangled animals. With Gordon’s safety secured for a while longer, they turned and ran to the end of the walkway. A large, circular window looked out onto the moors below.

“The car is just down there,” Amy said. “If we lower ourselves down, the fall won’t be that high.”

Ben nodded in agreement, aware of another wave of animals making their way across the factory floor below them. He stepped back as Amy swung the butt of her shotgun at the window. The glass shattered, leaving a jagged exit into the countryside. She knocked the remaining glass out of the frame and scrambled onto the window ledge.

“It looks pretty high,” Ben said. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Feel free to go first. You can catch me.”

Ben laughed as he looked back onto the walkway. “We best hurry, if we wait around any longer, my dad will start taking pot-shots at us again.”

Amy smiled as Ben lowered himself off the ledge. “Be careful.”

She couldn’t tell how far away he was from the floor. She watched with bated breath as he hit the ground hard. His legs buckled as he landed, but he made a sharp recovery as he jumped to his feet.

“Are you okay?” she called.

“Yeah, c’mon.”

Ben shouldered his rifle, firing two shots into the building. A startled screech came from within until a third shot silenced it. Amy took a deep breath as she crouched down. She turned on her stomach, lowering herself over the edge. Holding the shotgun and clinging to the ledge proved difficult. She tried to adjust the weapon as she eased herself down. Her arms trembled, aching as she tried to correct her