I Dream of Zombies (Book 2): Haven (19 page)

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Nothing,” replied Will. “Give me your knife and torch.”

Marla gazed back at him, determined not to show her fear. “I didn’t bring either. My Glock is in my rucksack in the truck.”

As Will’s hands were full, he told Martinez, “Search her.”

Martinez grimaced. Resting his gun against the nearest unit, he turned to Marla.
Avoiding her eyes, he ran his hands down her sides and over her waist, hips and thighs. She drew in her breath as she felt his fingers trace the outline of her knife, but he did not pause there. After a few seconds, he stepped back. “She’s clean,” he announced. Still avoiding eye contact with her, he picked up his gun.

“No hard feelings,” said Will. Then he began to walk away.

“But you can’t…” Marla began and then stopped as a rustling crept out of the dark.

“Speak and you’ll draw them out,”
he answered, “but I’m sure they’ve already smelt you.” Without pausing any longer, he strode towards the stairs and vanished out of sight, trailed by Martinez who lingered slightly but did not turn.

Marla did not hear the door close behind them, but she
assumed it. Slowly, she took a few careful steps back towards the same exit, silently removing her knife and gripping it tightly in her right hand. On either side of her the rows of shelves towered into the gloomy ceiling, which she could not see. The details of her surroundings dimmed. Squinting, she urged her eyes to adjust, but without any source of light from a window there was no way of it improving. Knowing the breathing originated ahead, Marla continued to retreat, placing one foot behind the other, gradual and sure. They were here, in the darkness, and they were waiting, but why did they not rush out earlier and why had Will left her here? Marla frowned. Nothing made sense any more.
Am I going to die here?

Snap out of it!

Pushing her
negative thoughts behind the barricade in her mind where she shelved every damn fear and every little thing that fought to crush her, Marla stepped backwards. There would be no way out of here. No windows, no doors… unless… She glanced to the sides, thinking. If this was a storeroom, there might be a back door somewhere for deliveries. But she was in the basement and surely if there were deliveries they would gain access at ground level?

Marla shook her head as she surveyed the area. In the stillness an object fell, hitting the ground with a crash.
It sounded metal. Whatever had been concealing itself was on the move. She backed into a shelving unit with a start and looked up, expecting the boxes to collapse, but somehow they stayed put. Her legs quivered and she steeled herself.

It’s only the dark, she told herself, but it was
the thing she had feared most as a child; something she had learned to live with, adjust to, overcome, yet here she felt lost. In this maze it was as if she were nine again, hiding in the darkness, waiting for the bogeyman to leave.
No, I will not give in to that; I will not let him in again.
She widened her eyes in the gloom, seeking to see through the grey-brown fog. The air seemed to grow heavier. Sliding… a sliding sound, like a dragging motion along the ground… approaching, but from where?

Gripping the knife with an urgency that made her imagine snapping it, Marla stepped back behind the shelving unit and peeked around the side. She cursed the fact that she had left her torch in her rucksack and the spare gun. Whatever Will was up to,
Martinez didn’t play a part in it, that much she realised. He had been as taken aback as she was and he allowed her to keep her knife whereas Will would have taken it. How she despised the man, but why had he left her here? Surely, he could not have been acting on his own initiative? He had no reason to hate her that much. Or was he playing? Was this some kind of test, because she stood up to him and questioned him? Was the man that arrogant? But the others would notice her missing, she reasoned. Tommy would ask where she…

Low gasps
came in an uneven rhythm. Marla backed away from the end of the shelving unit, even though she knew it was useless as the thing would smell her. She quietened her own breathing and waited with her knife ready for the attack that would come, as inevitable as night would turn to day. The only other option was to make a run for the stairs, but the dead-looker would see her and follow, and if there were more of them she would find herself trapped at the top most probably.

Will would
have barricaded that door, she guessed, unless he managed to find the key for it. Nothing surprised her. She wondered if it had always been a trap and he had all the keys. The whole idea of them coming here to get books had been ludicrous from the start. Marla’s eyes widened as the dead thing came into view.

It crawled. She now understood the sweeping and dragging she had heard. It had no legs and only arms with which it struggled
to heave itself along the floor. It craned its neck back, setting off a series of cracks that splintered the silence, all the while staring up at her, its eyes jet-black wells in the dark.

Marla stepped back, staring at the gaping mouth that emptied the bloodcurdling gasps into the space between them. How could it not be suffering? Its spine wriggled, reminding her of a snake, the end of it sticking morbidly upwards while its entrails swirled around it.
Who did you used to be?
Taking a step forward, she rammed her knife into its forehead as it gasped its last, the head caving to the ground.

Wiping her face with the back of her hand,
Marla bent down and tugged the knife out of the skull and wiped it along the boxes on the shelf. For some reason she suspected there were more; there always were. She was never that lucky.

Stepping over the creature, she blinked in the dark and walked into the central space between the rows of metal units. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the bleak light and she could see a little further, but no
t much. Still, it was something. To acclimatise even a little there had to be an opening letting in light somewhere, yet it was impossible to tell where. Perhaps there was a ventilation hole or a small window down here. Marla stood perfectly still and listened. All she could hear was her own rushing heartbeat and jagged breath, so she tried to calm them and focus on anything over the top of it. For five minutes she waited. Nothing stirred.

Turning, she wandered back to the staircase
at the entrance and stepped as quietly as possible to the top. There was the source of the tiniest light – a slight gap around the door. She tried the handle, but although it turned, the door did not open.
So he definitely had a key, the bastard.
Leaning her back against the door, Marla saw nothing with which to ram it open. The idea was perfectly pointless as the door opened out this way anyhow.
Useless indeed.

Realising the area was
a dead end and potential death zone if anything decided to keep her company, Marla straightened up and headed back down the stairs. At the bottom she stopped and listened to the silence. Still, there were no new sounds, but the only way to know for sure was to check the entire basement and perhaps there might even be a way out. Nodding, she willed herself onwards to walk the entire length of the space. In every direction the heavy darkness swam out from only a couple of metres away.

With each step, she
looked from left to right as far as she could see, and listened. If the dead were there, they would come for her, smelling her flesh. She knew that. They would not be able to resist. Like the torso, they would be driven towards her like a moth to a flame. Marla glanced down at her knife.
As dangerous as a flame?
She thought of Tommy hurling the burning magazines into the crowd of dead-lookers in the shop and the reminiscence made her sad. Next she thought of her sister and sighed. It slammed into the stillness like a drum and she halted, staring wide eyed into the dark. Straining her ears, she waited, but no response came.

Another step forward and
then she began to stride with more purpose, checking to and fro, back and forth, unrelenting, looking out for them, always ready, or so she hoped.
Will they know I’m alone?
They have no reasoning, she reminded herself. Every small echo of her boots made her cringe inside, yet she kept going, right to the very far end of the basement where complete darkness reigned.

As she came up against
a cold, brick wall, Marla spotted two doors, one either side of her, positioned directly opposite one another. There were no signs. She leaned against the wall and stared forwards as far as she could, squinting, and wishing she had some kind of animal vision; the eyes of an eagle.

Pushing herself away from the wall, she allowed herself a small smile in that at least the place was empty. That was a victory of sorts over Will Acre, wherever and whatever he
really was.

***

Will turned the key in the lock while giving Martinez a hard look. “You’re not to say a word, understand? She left the building to get her bag from the truck and we haven’t seen her since. Right?”

Martinez forced himself to meet the eyes of his superior and nodded, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. Turning, he moved to join the rest of the soldiers. Will grabbed his arm and made him stop. “Where are you going?”

“To help the others…”

“Did I tell you to do that?”

Martinez shook his head. “No, sir,” he replied through clenched teeth.

Will smiled. “We’re here to take books from that section over there, so let’s do it. Drag a box over from the front and get moving. We need to leave in an hour or so.”

“What about…?”

“No,” Will replied sternly. “No questions.” He turned and walked slowly towards one of the bookshelves and began checking the titles against the list he removed from his pocket.

Martinez swore beneath his breath and strode to the front of the library. Grabbing a cardboard box in one hand, he wandered back, wrestling with his conscience. There had been a zombie in that basement and Will knew it. He could not understand why the man had left Marla in there. She was a good soldier, a brave one, he’d seen that, and she seemed a good person. What had put his boss’ nose out of joint, he had no idea, but at least she had her knife. Martinez bit his lip. At least he’d seen to that. When they got back to the facility, he would have to decide whether to mention it to Caballero. One thing was for sure: he didn’t trust Will anymore and realised he was probably capable of anything. Hence he would need to watch his back.

“You know what you are doing?” Will asked him.

“Sure,” Martinez answered, forcing a smile. “I have my list,” he added, waving it in the air. Turning away, he allowed his face to fall again. If there was a way to get the girl out of the basement without Will knowing, he would try it.

An hour passed,
by which time there were thirty-five boxes packed full of books. Will checked them over before calling the soldiers together. “Let’s load ‘em on the bus and then it’s time to go home.”

Tommy looked him in the eye. “Where’s Marla?”

Will shrugged. “No idea, Tommy. Last thing she said to me was that she was getting her bag from the truck. She wanted a torch, I think.”

“Why would she need that? The lights are on?”

“We checked a storeroom and they were out,” Will explained. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll be back. Probably checking her lipstick.”

Tommy scowled, but
remained silent. He picked up one of the boxes and walked towards the exit. Marcus opened the door for him while Ian stood guard, covering his back while he headed for the bus. At the same time, Elliott jumped out of the Vector, opened the doors of the bus and set about protecting the area. Tommy placed the box inside the vehicle with a nod to him.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

Elliott shrugged. “Same as. Okay in there?”

“Yeah, no problems. Quiet. Is Marla around?”

“Marla? No, why?” asked Elliott.

“Will said she came out to get her bag.”

“Nah, I didn’t see anyone come out of the library until you, and I’ve been watching it all the time, except when I took a leak. Did you ask Marcus and Ian? They’ve been standing by that entrance all the time.”

Tommy scratched his head. “No, I thought she’d be with you.”

Elliott shrugged again. “Sorry, man, can’t help you.”

Mumbling “Weird,” Tommy headed back to the library, passing Sylvia, but he didn’t notice her. She stopped and stared at him, but he was in his own world, deep in thought. Inside the building, he checked to see where Will was. He was going through some papers on the main desk by the look of it, so Tommy picked up another box and
took it outside. On the way, he asked Marcus, “Have you seen Marla?”

The guy shook his head. “No, she was inside with you guys.”

“Okay.” Tommy carried the box to the bus, placed it inside and stood for a second with his hands on his hips. He looked one way and then back to the library building.
Where the hell is she?
He stepped aside for Martinez to put his box down. “Did you see her?” Tommy asked him.