part0031

Only it wasn’t. Rachel was safe, she hoped. She was with Ricky. They’d be back any minute now, with armfuls of wood, enough to start a fire. It wasn’t much to ask, was it?

She peered out through the rain at the worsening weather, watching as it turned into a full-blown tropical storm, the trees rocking violently, shedding broken, splintered branches. Should she call out? What if they were injured? Or worse? She should be ready.

Thankfully, weapons were not hard to find. Tools lay scattered across the floor, as if the men who had been wielding them had taken flight at a moment’s notice. She picked up a screwdriver then discarded it. Too short. She lifted a pitchfork. Too bulky, too unwieldy.

Why was it so hard to choose a suitable weapon?

She settled on a wrench. The weight was about right. Not too heavy that she couldn’t swing it quickly, but enough to crush a skull should the need arise.

What the fuck was happening? Yesterday she had been just arriving at the Full Moon Party. A week ago she had been sipping a margarita with Rachel and Paul in Edinburgh Airport, waiting on their flight. And now here she was thinking about how best to bash someone’s brains in. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Bullshit. It had only been a year since she tried to take her own life. How far had she really come since then?

Well, she had killed that monster on the boat. When the time had come, she had been able to act. But that had been instinct. Now she had time to consider what was going on. Could she do it again? Could she fight?

She might not have to. Paul was on his way, wasn’t he? Ana couldn’t be sure. She didn’t trust Paul. Although she had never mentioned it to her sister, she hadn’t liked him from the moment she had met him. Wandering eyes. Too many “late nights” at work. But Rachel liked him and Ana felt it wasn’t her place to say anything. Not while their own relationship was still on the mend.

A sound. Scraping metal. Ana whirled in its direction.

Nothing there. She was getting jumpy. The wind screeched through the empty window panes.

Something was watching her from the window.

She clutched the wrench in both hands and took a few steps back. Cold eyes regarded her from a clear frame on the second storey. She blinked away the rain. How the hell did it get up there? It came through slowly, deliberately.

‘Rachel,’ whispered Ana. She looked back but there was still no sign of her.

When she turned back the creature was gone. Her imagination again? She looked around, heart-rate increasing by the second. Too many shadows. She felt exposed, too out in the open. Why had they stayed here rather than head to the apartments? Hell, why hadn’t they just remained on the boat?

It was on the ceiling. She saw it, her mind struggling to register it as fact. It moved along on its hands and feet, never once dropping its gaze, leaving a trail of sticky prints along the wall.

‘You can’t be real,’ she whispered. The thing on the ceiling just watched, clinging to the shadows. She struggled to make out details, its pallid skin glistening anaemically in the darkness.

‘What do you want?’ hissed Ana through gritted teeth.

She couldn’t do it. Not by herself. She didn’t want to die here, not like this. Not alone.

Behind her, feet thudded off concrete and she surprised herself by spinning, swinging the wrench with all her might. As she did so, she had the terrifying realisation that it could well be Rachel, and tried to halt the swing.

The creature put up an arm to block the wrench. Despite the decrease in power caused by Ana’s uncertainty, the dry twigs of its radius and ulna bones still snapped on impact. The creature stepped back, roaring as its arm dangled uselessly, Ana taking the opportunity to backhand the fucker, smashing the beast hard in the ribs. It went down like a sack of potatoes. She glanced at the ceiling. The other one was on the move. She raised the wrench, turning her attention back to the downed beast. It scuttled backwards, leaping onto the wall and running, scaling the vertical incline with ease.

‘Jesus Christ, you can’t! It’s not fair!’ cried Ana. Another one entered through a different window. ‘Fuck off! Just fuck off!’ She backed up further until she slammed into a wall. She looked up and saw a face leering over the frame of the window directly above her. One of the creatures pounded towards her and she threw the wrench with both hands then turned and ran. She heard a soft crack but was already on her way out by then.

She did not stop to check on her handiwork.

Ana didn’t care where she was going as long as it was away from the lobby. She barrelled down a corridor, electrical cables hanging from the ceiling like cobras. She batted them out of the way. The corridor ended in a T junction and she chose left, slipping on the wet floor but not falling, smashing her shoulder off the brick wall and continuing on. She chanced a look back and saw the creatures following her, some on the floor, others on the walls and ceiling. Her legs ached, her body cried out to stop. Taking a right, she found herself among the ghostly remains of the bamboo scaffolding.

‘Rachel!’ she yelled into the storm, never stopping running. It was a futile gesture.

Up ahead were the apartments, or at least the shell of what they would have been. To the left, slightly closer, lay an unfinished restaurant. She dodged the half-dug swimming pool, narrowly avoided falling in and headed towards the restaurant. The place looked empty and she hurtled through the doorway, throwing herself over the counter. She bumped off the floor hard, winding herself.

She paused, trying to catch her breath before moving on.

There was nowhere else to hide. The restaurant had a counter and some booths but no furniture. A door presumably led to the kitchen area, but what if it was a dead-end? Careful to avoid being spotted, she raised her head above the countertop and watched. Some of the mutants raced by the window and she ducked back down, waiting for them to pass.

The seconds ticked by interminably, but her heart rate showed little sign of slowing. The counter was cool against her back and she began to regain what was left of her composure. She had to find Rachel, that was the most important thing. Find her and get off the island. Even if they had to fashion a raft out of logs and palm leaves, they would escape together, the last surviving members of the Logan family.

Satisfied that enough time had elapsed, she squirmed her way to the edge of the counter. Listening carefully and hearing nothing except the relentless barrage of the elements, she peered round the counter and almost came face-to-face with a creature.

She jerked her head back. Had it seen her?

She waited, wishing she still had the wrench, trying to figure out how many were in here with her.

Could she hear two sets of footsteps, or one creature on all-fours?

Just one, she thought. It rasped and wheezed. She heard its skin brushing off the other side of the counter and she bristled, her whole body tensing up.

Ana closed her eyes. If she saw even a shadow move, she knew she would scream. Her nose itched and she shivered, the rain soaking through her underwear.

She was about to sneeze.

How to stop it? She put both hands over her mouth, as if that would do anything to mask the sound. She hitched in a tight breath, trying to keep it under control.

There was no way round it; she was going to sneeze.

In other words, she was well and truly fucked.

She had one chance. The backdoor. If she could get far enough away, then the creature might not hear her. Of course, she had no idea where it currently was, or what direction it was looking in. One more sharp intake of breath and she made her mind up.

As stealthily as possible, she made her way back to the edge of the counter, adrenaline building to a crescendo, and made a dash for it, never looking back. She raced through a long corridor, and after rounding a corner, the kitchen area. Large steel sinks had already been installed, but the rest of the room was bare.

She sneezed, trying to muffle the noise, glad of the release.

The creature shrieked and the door to the corridor flew open and smashed off the wall. It was coming for her. Ana had seconds to decide on a plan of action. There were no hiding places. Nothing to defend herself with. She heard the creature barrelling down the corridor.

Her only chance was the window. At least it was free of glass .

Ana bolted for the escape route just as the creature made its way into the room. She heard the wet smack of its hands and feet on the floor but refused to turn round, instead leaping for the enormous steel sink, hauling her weary body up and into it. Half-a-second later the creature hit the sink head-first, denting the metal. Two shrivelled hands appeared on the rim of the sink, followed by a head. It gazed at her with expressionless eyes and Ana sat up as best she could, reaching both hands out to the monster, grabbing the back of its soft, white head and wrenching it towards her. Caught unawares, the creature offered little resistance, allowing its face to be smashed into the edge of the sink.

It pulled back, a vicious dent in its skull where the nose once was. Ana yanked it forwards again, white goo showering over her and spilling into the sink, the creatures face disintegrating in her hands. She slammed it towards her once more for luck, and this time the skull shattered and crumbled in her hands and she let go, the inert body dropping from view. She sat upright, letting the adrenaline surge through her for a moment before getting to her feet and squeezing her arse through the window frame, landing on the overgrown grass. The rain spattered down.

She was outside again.

Keeping low, she glanced around and saw she was near an amphitheatre, the tiered seats overlooking a sizeable stage where bored tourists could sit and watch traditional Thai dancing and singing while gorging themselves on all-inclusive food and drink. A small tree was growing from the centre of the stage, and hanging from the branches were human skulls. They dangled languorously from cords, spinning one way and then back again like a monstrous baby’s mobile .

Ana picked a bone from the grass. It looked like a femur, good and strong. In lieu of a better weapon, it would have to do. She checked for movement on the stage but couldn’t see anything.

A hand on her shoulder. She swung without thinking, almost taking Rachel’s head clean off. The girl dodged backwards and the bone whistled harmlessly through the air.

‘Oh god I’m sorry!’ said Ana, but Rachel barely noticed.

‘Ricky’s dead,’ she panted. Ana looked her sister up and down. She was caked in mud, her hair plastered to her face.

‘Did you kill him?’

‘Yeah, I think I did.’

Ana nodded. ‘What now?’

Rachel didn’t answer. Instead she grabbed Ana by the hand and dragged her away from the grisly amphitheatre towards the apartment buildings, their feet splattering in the mud, horizontal rain hammering their bodies. Overhead, lightning crashed again, the thunder following promptly afterwards, the whole island seeming to shake under the force of the mighty elements.

Ana struggled to keep up with her sister. Rachel’s naturally athletic build made running for her life a lot easier. Ana, on the other hand, was short of breath. Her thighs chafed mercilessly and her ankles threatened to give up at any moment. She pressed an arm across her chest to stop her tits swinging about so much, wishing she had on a more supportive bra rather than this stupid lace one. The only sexy underwear she had brought on holiday, and she was wearing it because she thought she might get some from Ricky. Look how that little encounter turned out.

She fought through it, her lungs wailing in protest as she tried in vain to match her sister’s pace, heading for sanctuary within the walls of the decrepit apartment block.

Ana never once dared to look back over her shoulder. Ironically, had she done so, she would have seen nothing out of the ordinary. The creatures were nowhere to be found.