The Apocalypse Stops For No Time Lord [Part Two]
Part Two
It took 7 minutes, 23 seconds and 42 milliseconds - give or take - to get to the run down building where the rift residue led. Bela had been counting, stomach twisting into nervous knots for some reason she couldn't quite understand. There was something about this case that just seemed off, as though something in her demon DNA was picking up 'bad vibrations'. She almost wanted to laugh at the idea. Almost.
“We'll go in from the East,” Jack was saying as they climbed out from the SUV. “Just take a Glock and leave the rest here for if we need it. This should be a quick in and out.”
“Whatever you say, sir,” Bela said wryly, remembering the word 'unknown' flashing up next to 'species'.
Jack's hand shot out and gripped hers for a second. His skin was hot, adrenaline running a fever over his body. “Bela, don't do anything stupid. We stick together.”
For a long moment their eyes met and held. There was something akin to fear in his, the echo of those doom-laden feelings that had her counting minutes on the journey over. Over it all criss-crossed the names of those in the files of the deceased. It was this case, this strange case, getting under their skin with jagged skull fragments and teeth-mark brains.
“Yes, sir,” she breathed and this time she wasn't mocking him. His hand dropped from hers, leaving a ring of cold skin that seemed out of place.
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It was dark inside, light not making it through the few dirt-encrusted windows. It had only taken Jack a moment to smash through the side door security - a huge padlock that was all but rusted away. Now they crept through the abandoned office rooms, rubbish and debris crunching under their feet.
Toshi's map led them further into the complex, the red dot moving slowly around in wavering circles. Every corner seemed to hold a shadow as they slipped into the main hanger of the warehouse. It was a huge room, at least a football field in length, filled with crates and stacks of slowly rotting wooden pallets. A few cracks in the roof allowed water to drip down, providing a steady soundtrack to the eerie space.
“Well this looks safe,” Bela muttered, ignoring the glare that Jack shot her. “Nothing could possibly go wrong here.”
They set off down the closest row, guns constantly searching for a new target. Every now and then they had to pick their way around piles of shattered glass, splintered wood or, a few too many times for Bela's taste, mounds of rancid clothing. She could have sworn one of them moved but Jack didn't seem to notice it so she blamed it on the distinctly wrong feeling that was curling down her spine.
Finally they reached a break in the rows of crates that seemed to cut through at about halfway down the hanger. A quick glance at the tablet told Bela the red dot was two rows over from them, just around the corner. With a quick gesture to Jack, they crept along the rows until they were half a metre from the red dot. Carefully Bela slotted the tablet into its pouch in her utility belt and nodded to the military man.
“Now!” Jack whispered. They swung around the corner, guns raised, fingers poised on the trigger. At the end of the row was some kind of humanoid shape, lumbering slowly towards the other end of the warehouse. “FREEZE!”
Instantly the creature stopped. For a second it seemed confused. Then, slowly, it turned around to face them. As soon as the creature’s eyes met her, Bela's hand shot out to tightly grip Jack's arm. The human stared at the Torchwood agents with bloodshot holes in its ragged white face.
Suddenly, it opened its mouth and a harsh shriek scraped out. Bela didn't hesitate. Releasing Jack's arm she took a step forward, emptying her entire clip into the creature. Under the hail of bullets it dropped like a stone, head thunking against the concrete floor.
“What the Hell was that for?” Jack grabbed Bela's arm and spun her around to face him. “We don't know what that thing was going to do.”
Calmly she pulled away from him, heart beat slowing as she walked over to the corpse. “Remember when I told you about Croatoan zombies?”
“Yes,” Jack's voice sounded wary and Bela was sure he knew what she was about to say.
“Well here's my proof.” Wincing as blood smeared across her boot, she nudged the creature onto its back with one foot, gun still cradled safely in her hands. “See, red eyes, classic Croatoan symptom.”
Jack came up beside her, a grim look on his face. “Why is it here?” Silently Bela marvelled at the ease at which he accepted they were looking at a zombie. “Was this what came through the rift?”
“It could have been.” Finally she let her hands fall to her sides, gun settled lightly in her right. “Probably fell through, found itself peckish and decided a little human would be nice.”
She shifted her gaze up to Jack's face, a thin smile stretching on her face. “Good thing it won’t be eating anymore.”
He met her gaze squarely. “It’s done enough dam- LOOK OUT!” The shout echoed around them as Jack shoved Bela to the side, raising his gun. She lurched into a stack of wooden pallets, sending them crashing down into the row next to them. Managing to keep her balance, she turned to follow Jack’s gaze as he started shooting.
The end of the row was blocked by hundreds of red-eyed humans and then Bela knew why she had seen those piles of clothing move. The gunshots seemed to jerk them into action and the creatures started sprinting down the row towards them, moving with inhuman speed.
A few of them stumbled and fell as Jack’s bullets reached them. The shots sunk into their legs, hurting the creatures but not killing them. Making sure they couldn’t do any harm but not murdering the humans they were in.
“Jack!” Bela screamed but he didn't seem to hear her. Swearing under her breath, Bela surged forward and grabbed his coat, pulling him over to the hole left where she had knocked the pallets over. “Come on!”
This time he heard her, quickly finding his feet and darting after her. They headed down towards the end of the row, running parallel to the Croatoan creatures. It wasn't hard to hear them, feet slapping against the concrete, then the sound of panted breath as they followed the agents through the gap.
Neither of them dared to look back, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. A second later they burst out from the row of crates, just in time to see more red-eyes pouring out on either side of them. They didn't hesitate, throwing themselves towards the door at the end of the hanger.
Without thinking, Bela took the lead as they charged through. Racing from office to office, they followed the mental map in her head towards the side door that they had left swinging on its hinges. Behind her the feet followed, footsteps melding into a constant thundering sound.
They rounded the corner and suddenly she could see the outside world through the open door. Just then Jack let out a yell. Spinning around, Bela found him on the ground. One zombie had been slightly faster than the rest.
“Jack!” Her scream was as useless as the gun in her hands, magazine empty. Even though her mind was a few seconds too slow, her body wasn't. Smoothly she shifted into a boxer's stance. Taking a step forward, she whipped her leg up and around, the roundhouse kick sending the creature crashing into a desk.
“Run!” Jack yelled as he surged to his feet. His hand grabbed hers, all but pulling her along, the wall of Croatoan humans a metre behind. As they sprinted through the door, Jack swung a leg round, slamming it closed behind them. “Come on!”
Bodies crashed up against the metal and it groaned heavily. They didn't stop running, heading for the SUV waiting for them a few metres away. It wasn't until they got to the vehicle that Jack let go of Bela's hand. Quickly she flung open the passenger door as behind her the rusted metal hinges gave way and the zombies tumbled out into the courtyard.
“Get in.” Jack was waiting already inside the car, keys in the ignition, gesturing at her urgently. Somehow she managed to make her legs work, clambering into the SUV and slamming the door shut. Tires squealing, they sped away, the dull thud of a zombie hitting the car the only indication of just how close it had been.
“So you weren't pulling my leg then.” Jack said with a calmness that made Bela want to punch and hug him at the same time. “Zombies in Cardiff.”
For a second they were both silent, staring ahead out of the windscreen. Then their eyes met and adrenaline caught up with them. Jack let a smile appear first; Bela close behind with what could have been described as a giggle.
“Zombies in Cardiff,” Jack repeated, struggling to drive straight through choked laughter. “It's so terrible.”
“We shouldn't be laughing at this, you know,” Bela spluttered. “It's serious business. They could take over.”
It took them five minutes of laughing and driving - but mostly laughing - until they finally sobered. They were still running on adrenaline but it had loosened its hold enough for the two of them to realise, fuck, zombies.
“Can you give me a crash course in Croatoan zombies?” Jack asked darkly, the mirth sapped from his voice. “We need to know how to stop them.”
“I don’t know much,” Bela replied, trying not to flinch as she turned to memories of when the plans of those at the top were whispered as rumours among those who still screamed daily. “Croatoan was a virus used to wipe out a couple of hundred settlers in 1590. Satan and his inner circle decided to bring it back for the 2010 Apocalypse.
“Once a human gets the virus, it attacks the Limbic system, basically returning the victim to instincts and unleashing any violence they might have lurking behind emotion control. The virus itself is transmitted through fluid exchange, hence the zombie tradition of biting. Basically, a zombie munches on you and you’ll go from Mr. Rogers to Hannibal Lecter, just without the MD.”
“Good to know. So, how do we stop it?”
“What makes you think I know?” The burst of anger came without warning and Bela felt instantly guilty at the look on Jack’s face. She softened her voice as she continued. “This was part of the devil’s apocalypse. The cure - if there is one - wasn’t exactly common knowledge to us lowly foot soldiers.”
“So we have nothing to go on?” Jack didn’t mention her outburst, just pushed it into the archive of the moments when she still came from Hell. “No way to stop them?”
“Well, not nothing.” She said the words before she was actually sure exactly what she was talking about. “Those victims we saw in the morgue, they had their brains eaten.”
“Yes,” Jack gave her a patient look. “That’s what zombies do.”
“Not these ones.” She reached for her tablet, silently thanking whoever may be watching that the device hadn’t been broken in their 200m zombie sprint. Fingers dancing across the screen, she pulled up the Cardiff police database. “I knew it, look!” She thrust the tablet to Jack, a satisfied smirk automatically appearing on her face.
“Really?” Jack took his eyes off the road for just long enough to give Bela a pointed look. “I don’t want to have survived zombie attacks only to die in a car accident.”
“Right.” Pulling the tablet back, she starting spinning through its contents. “Since last night the police have reported over 20 extremely violent homicides. All the victims appeared to have been mauled by a person as they did manage to find human traces on the bodies. That’s classic zombie behaviour.
“As well as that, the missing persons hotline has recorded double the number of reports they usually handle although nearly all of those claimed to be missing were seen sometime yesterday around late evening.”
Jack was nodding slowly as she reeled off the statistics. “So you think the violent deaths were zombie attacks and the missing persons-”
“Were among the welcoming committee at the warehouse,” Bela finished. “It’s not normal Croatoan behaviour to eat the brains of victims so I think-”
“They were purposely targeted,” Jack interrupted in the awed whisper of a realisation. “They had to be completely dead-“
“And not undead.”
“But that would mean...” He trailed off then turned to look at Bela, eyes wide.
“Someone is controlling them,” they said simultaneously.
“But who?” Jack asked, neither of them lingering on their disgustingly cheesy synchronised exclamation. “Who would be able to control mindless Croatoan zombies?”
Bela’s mind instantly went to Hell’s elite, the inner circle of the Satan’s purest evil. “There’s too many,” she said with a shrug, smiling slightly at Jack’s surprise. “It’s a virus made in Hell. There are plenty of demons with enough juice to alter it.”
“Then were does that leave us?” Jack wondered aloud as they drove along the waterfront.
“With the victims,” Bela said, lips twisting into a grimace. They knew what was going on, or at least it seemed like they knew. They just couldn’t pin down the who or the why. All they had was a morgue full of bodies, zombies pouring from a warehouse and no way to stop them.
“The victims!” Jack smacked the wheel, making Bela jump and she sent him a glare that went unnoticed. “We need to find out who the victims are; work out why someone would want to kill them. If we work out the why-”
“We can figure out the who.” The glare morphed into a grin. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to trace the why back to one of Hell’s finest.”
“In that case we’re going to need help,” Jack said as they turned into the secret entrance to the Torchwood Headquarters.
It was a brick wall that simply fell into the ground when Jack pressed a button on what amounted to the secret Torchwood garage opener. Bela was sure that someone would have noticed an entire wall falling into the ground but for some reason people’s eyes seemed to glide over the spot as if it wasn’t exactly there. Whenever she asked just about it, Jack just gave an extremely frustrating smirk that said ‘I know something you don’t know’.
“Can’t Toshi run the victims to find a connection?”
“Maybe with only a few victims but we don’t have the software to run this many and it would take too long to program something. For this, we’re going to need a specialist.”
“Who?” Jack smirked and it said ‘I know something you don’t know’.
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| Part Three |