Slash shivered as the door clicked shut behind him, eyes automatically turning to the peephole. He couldn’t see Duff in there, but he knew the bassist was watching them. He would wait until the last possible second to push the bed back against the door, partly to keep an eye on his friends and partly because he hadn’t liked being left behind. Izzy insisted, though, that someone stay in the room, and Duff was the logical choice. He was still shaken from his first encounter and it would have been far too risky to take him along.
That didn’t make Slash feel any better about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Izzy and Axl, because he did. Okay, maybe not Axl so much, but he knew he was safe with Izzy. Slash was good at pretending he was a fearless badass, whereas Izzy actually was one. At least, Slash liked to think so. It made things a lot less nerve-wracking.
“Ready?” Izzy mouthed. He’d warned them that they shouldn’t talk while outside the room. They didn’t really understand the capabilities of the creatures they might be facing, and it was best to assume that they were superior to humans in all respects. Overestimating was considerably more intelligent, in this case, than underestimating.
Axl nodded firmly and, after one last glance back at the door, Slash followed suit. His fingers tightened around the handle of the hammer he’d found and he sighed. It seemed like a pitiful defense against whatever lay in wait out there, but it was all they had. Axl wasn’t much better off; he’d had to knock off a leg from one of the tables in the room. It was slightly heavier than the hammer, but wouldn’t last nearly as long.
Izzy shot them both a look that could have meant anything. Slash decided that it was intended to encourage and, with a deep breath, he followed Izzy down the hall. They all stepped as quietly as they could, footsteps muffled somewhat by the plush carpeting. It didn’t seem like nearly enough and Slash winced at every little creak.
It seemed to take an age to reach the staircase. Every step promised sudden death; Slash was positive he wouldn’t make it back in one piece. He was positive that none of them would, and that Duff would just sit up in that room all alone, huddled in the center of the floor, staring at the door and waiting for them to come back like an abandoned puppy. It was easily the most hideously depressing thought he’d ever had and, in the midst of trying to push it away, he didn’t see the hand shoot out from around the corner until it was too late.
Impossibly strong fingers gripped his ankle and he couldn’t hold back a howl of surprise. Axl leapt back like a scalded cat, and Slash just barely caught sight of Izzy raising his baseball bat before his foot was yanked out from under him. He hid the ground hard, all the air rushing out of his lungs, and immediately lashed out with his free foot. It connected with what felt like a shoulder, but the grip on his ankle didn’t lessen a bit.
Growling, Slash struggled into a sitting position and looked straight down into the face of death. It was easy to see now why Duff had done what he’d done. The thing clinging to Slash’s foot, obviously once a successful businessman, was still perfectly intact save the bloody bite mark on his shoulder. Somehow, Slash had expected the creatures to look more… well, monstrous. He’d needed them to look more monstrous, all rotting flesh and melting eyes and festering sores. He could cope with all the horror movie clichés just fine.
This, though… this was way beyond his capabilities. This was a man gone hideously feral, reduced to the most primitive of urges. Slash could see it in his horrible, dead eyes, an insatiable hunger that would never be satisfied. He could only stare at the creature as it dragged itself closer, could only shudder in revulsion and terror as its lips curled back and a low, mindless moan issued from its dead throat.
It seemed like he spent an hour staring into the creature’s cold eyes, watching his death come closer and closer. In reality, it was only a few seconds before Axl and Izzy were able to recover themselves enough to help. Izzy landed the first blow, a sickening crack right between the creature’s shoulder blades. It shuddered and wheezed a little but kept coming, not even flinching at the crippling blow.
“The head!” Slash yelped, casting around for his hammer. He’d dropped it when the creature felled him and, in his panic, couldn’t seem to find it again. “Hit it in the fucking head!”
“Quit yelling!” Izzy howled, rearing back to deliver another strike. Axl beat him to it.
There was a dull thud as Axl’s club crashed into the monster’s skull and rebounded. Slash heard him swear, and then he swung again, flinging all the weight of his skinny little body behind the blow. This time, there was a wet cracking noise and congealing blood bubbled up out of the creature’s scalp. Slash turned to the side and retched, so when the killing strike fell he was mercifully spared the sight of brains and bone fragments splattering across the hall.
Izzy dropped to his knees immediately, prying the creature’s dead fingers off of Slash’s ankle and dragging him back to his feet. “C’mon,” he whispered, dark eyes darting up and down the halls. “They’ll have heard us. We gotta hurry now.” He hauled Slash down the corridor, abandoning stealth for speed. Axl stayed rooted to the spot, eyes fixed on the gore coating his makeshift club, color rising in his cheeks. “Billy! Come on!”
“My hammer,” Slash protested, tugging against Izzy’s firm grip. He felt weird, dizzy and slightly disoriented. That was pretty normal, though, after almost being killed by a crazed… thing. Slash still wasn’t sure what to call them. They were monsters, sure as shit. Horror movies had nothing on these things.
Axl stooped and grabbed Slash’s hammer from where it’d fallen, then scurried to rejoin them. There was a disturbing brightness in his eyes, and a completely uncalled for spring in his step. “I just killed that guy,” he declared, voice a mixture of awed and delighted. “I fucking crushed his skull, Iz, did you see that shit?”
“Don’t feel bad about it,” Izzy said automatically, and both Slash and Axl shot him perplexed looks. “They’re not actually human anymore.”
“I don’t feel bad.” Axl sounded a little exasperated, and Slash resisted the urge to shrink away from him. It was a little bit disturbing how easily he’d taken to destroying his fellow human beings. He supposed that Axl had a lot of rage to work out. Crazy little motherfucker. “I fucking saved the poodle’s life, and you think I feel bad?”
Izzy shot Axl an annoyed look and rounded a corner without checking. The creatures weren’t close enough to snatch them up this time, but there was no avoiding them. The moaning started as soon as the lead creature caught sight of Izzy. The other two joined in immediately, and all three began to shamble down the hall, teeth bared in a horrible rictus.
Axl was on them before Slash even had time to blink, swinging his gory club and catching the first ghoul across the face. The thing’s head snapped to the side then lolled against its shoulder, neck clearly broken. With a little whoop, Axl leapt up and brought the club down again, cracking the thing’s skull and bringing it down like a sack of rocks.
His luck ran out after that blow; one of the other monsters reached out with hideous, grasping fingers and snatched Axl by the hair, yanking his head back. A gibbering moan escaped its mouth as it leaned forward, jaw dropping in preparation for the bite. A wash of adrenaline seized Slash, and he darted into the fray before he realized what he was doing. It was better this way; thinking ruined everything, made him frightened and hesitant. This must be the way Axl felt, fast and powerful and ready to take on the entire fucking world. The clawed end of his hammer punctured the creature’s temple on the first swing, and a flood of power coursed through him.
Axl fell, still tangled in the creature’s death grip, and Slash turned his attention to the third monster. Izzy had it backed up against the wall and was swinging like he was trying to hit a homerun. He finally scored a good, solid hit and the creature’s head split like an overripe cantaloupe. The queasiness returned as he watched Izzy slump, panting, over his baseball bat, and he choked back the rise of bile in his throat.
There was a muffled curse from the floor, and Slash glanced down unsteadily. Axl was still on his back, a furious expression on his pale face. “Fucking… can’t get…” He noticed Slash looking and gestured imperiously. “Come fucking help me, asshole! I can’t get my hair free!”
Slash crouched and stared helplessly at the mess in Axl’s hair. Somehow, while trying to free himself, he’d managed to tangle the dead man’s fingers so tightly that strands of his hair were actually slicing into the bloodless flesh. Slash gagged and looked away, turning helplessly to Izzy. He looked as baffled and disgusted as Slash felt, and Axl’s breathing quickened as he stared up at them.
“What? What is it? Am I bleeding?” His hands flew to his hair and he twisted, working himself into a panic. “Get it out! Fucking get it off of me!”
“Shh!” Izzy dropped to his knees and shoved Axl’s hands away. “Slash, do you have a knife?” Axl gave a terrified little squeak, which prompted a smile from Slash. He wished he did have a knife on him; it’d be so worth it to see Axl cringe and whine.
“Wait,” he muttered, turning back. Yeah, there it was, just where he remembered. “Hang on. Keep Firecrotch calm, I’ll be right back.” Before Izzy could protest, he took off down the hall as fast as he could without making too much noise. Whatever creatures were lurking around had probably already heard the short battle, but he wasn’t in the mood to tempt fate. He skidded to a halt in front of one of the rooms and, after a quick check down the hall, knelt and began rifling around. “Fuckin’ a.” Beaming, Slash stood and jogged back down the hall to present Izzy with a steak knife.
“Room service tray,” he explained, grinning and winking. Izzy laughed softly and took the knife, then bent back over Axl.
“What’re you doing, Iz?” Axl demanded nervously, trying to twitch away. He didn’t get very far; on one side were the corpses and on the other, Izzy with a steak knife. The look of baffled horror on Axl’s face secretly delighted Slash. It was always a source of amusement for him to see Axl brought low.
“Be quiet,” Izzy ordered again, nose wrinkling as he poked around in Axl’s hair. “I’m cutting the fingers out of your hair, so you have to hold really still.” There was a moment of silence, then Axl let out a long, low moan.
Slash crouched beside Axl’s head to watch the operation, marveling at how careful Izzy was with the knife. If it had been him, he would have just lopped off the hunk of hair right next to Axl’s scalp and had done with it. Izzy took his time though, trimming and cutting carefully until Axl was able to sit up. Gasping softly, he reached back and pressed a hand to the back of his head, eyes turning to the hand that’d grasped him. There were still quite a few shining strands wrapped around the dead fingers, but Izzy had done a good job.
“Thanks, man,” he murmured, standing unsteadily and retrieving his club. Izzy nodded shortly and tucked the steak knife carefully through his belt. “That was seriously fucked up. I’ll have to tie my hair up next time or something.” There was a silence, and Slash shot a look at Izzy, sure he knew what was coming next.
“No, you’ll just have to cut it,” Izzy answered steadily, picking his way around the corpses and starting down the hall again. “We all will.” Axl and Slash watched Izzy’s retreating back for several beats, then took off after him simultaneously, whispered protests vying for dominance.
“I’m not fucking cutting my hair!”
“It was a one time thing, man!”
“You want me to look like a goddamn yuppie banker!?”
“It took me ten fucking years to get it looking like this!”
“I can just wear a fucking hat or something!”
“What’s Duff gonna hold on to if I cut it all off?” That shut Axl up, and both he and Izzy angled glares at Slash. Slash just flashed them a shit-eating grin and shrugged. It wasn’t like they didn’t know. Hell, pretty much everyone knew that he and Duff were fucking on a semi regular basis.
“You’re a sick fuck,” Axl declared. “I can’t believe you guys are such perverts. That’s… that’s like incest, dude! That’s like if me and Izzy fucked! Ugh!” Izzy’s shoulders flinched forward a little and Slash raised an eyebrow. Interesting…
“We’re here,” he said, cutting off any further tirades. Axl fell silent and turned to Izzy, cocking his head.
“Where?”
“The stairs,” Izzy answered, a touch of asperity in his voice. He looked more troubled than he had been a few minutes ago. Slash wasn’t sure if it was because of Axl’s comment or if it was because of the promise of more shambling corpses below. Possibly it was both.
“Oh. I knew that.” Axl reached around Izzy and shoved the door open, peering into the stairwell. “I don’t see any zombies…”
“Don’t say that!” Slash protested, face screwing up. “They aren’t… you know. Don’t fucking call them that.” The word triggered a gut-churning flood of fear and carried with it some pretty heavy implications. If the creatures wandering through the hall were zombies, then that meant they were beyond fucked. It didn’t even bear thinking about.
“Fine,” Axl said, rolling his eyes and stepping into the stairwell. Izzy and Slash followed close behind, weapons at the ready. “I’ll call them the respirationally challenged if it makes you feel better, you big pussy.”
“That’s not even a word,” Slash grumbled. He felt like a five year old, but that didn’t bother him enough that he actually shut the hell up. “You just fucking made that up, idiot.” Axl shrugged and started down, boot heels ringing on the metal steps. Izzy started to say something, probably about the noise, then shook his head and followed with a sigh. Slash brought up the rear, wishing that they’d left Axl in the room instead of Duff. Duff never would have called him a pussy…
Duff might not have made it past that batch of creatures, though. He’d been reacting out of sheer terror the first time, and terror could make a person do some pretty amazing things. Slash wondered if Duff was capable of striking one down again. He couldn’t imagine Duff crushing another skull even if his life depended on it. Hell, a picture of a cow would put him off hamburgers for a week, cause every time he looked at the meat all he saw were big, sad eyes. The rest of them, particularly Axl, seemed able to divorce themselves from the fact that the shambling mockeries of life had once been actual human beings. Slash harbored severe doubts that Duff could do the same.
These musings carried him all the way down to the ground floor of the hotel. Whatever else the creatures were capable of, opening doors and climbing stairs didn’t seem to be among their repertoire. That suited Slash just fine. He wasn’t keen on killing anything else today, though he had the sinking feeling that he wouldn’t be so lucky. His suspicions were confirmed when Izzy peered through a little window set in the door and whistled low.
Axl shoved Izzy aside and looked out, then groaned low in his throat. “Oh man. Oh fuck. We are so screwed…” Slash moved to peer over Axl’s shoulder and stifled a groan of his own. Screwed didn’t even begin to cover it. The lobby was absolutely crawling with undead, all in various states of ruin, and all shuffling around aimlessly, as though unsure of what to do. Slash shook his head sharply at the thought. They weren’t unsure of anything. They were simply mindless killing machines without prey. That pointless meandering would end the second someone stepped into their midst.
“What do we do now?” he whispered, eyes flickering to Izzy’s face. Axl did the same, and Izzy recoiled a little from the expectant gazes. It was pretty obvious that he didn’t want to be in charge, and equally obvious that he had no choice.
“We… go out there,” he said slowly, resting his hand on the door frame. “There aren’t any near the door, and the path to the kitchens is relatively clear. We can run a hell of a lot faster than they can, so we can probably make it before they have a chance to catch up. We’ll just have to block the kitchen doors so they can’t follow us in.”
“Are you insane?” Axl snapped, planting his hands on his hips and glaring at Izzy. “We’re just going to run and hope for the best? Christ! Why don’t we just slap our asses on a platter and hand them over right now? And what if the kitchen is full of the fuckers? What do we do then?”
“We’ll just have to take our chances,” Izzy said. His voice was calm and level and left no room for argument. Privately, Slash agreed with Axl. It was suicide to leave the stairwell, but even worse if they didn’t. He couldn’t imagine going back up to the room empty handed and having to explain to Duff that they’d all be slowly starving to death while monsters overran the outside world. Strangely, the thought of Duff alone upstairs, waiting for their safe return, gave Slash a jolt of courage.
“I’ll go first,” he offered, pushing Axl out of the way and resting his hand on the doorknob. It had to be done. He just had to keep reminding himself of that. It was either chance dying quickly or be assured of a slow, horrible death later. Izzy met his eyes, then nodded.
“On the count of three,” he murmured, pulling Axl back. “You make a run for it. Axl, you follow him, and I’ll be right behind you. As soon as I get into the kitchen, Slash, you and I will work on barricading the door. Axl, if there’s anyone in the kitchen with us, it’s your job to take them out.” Axl nodded grimly and tensed. “Okay. One… two… THREE!”
Almost before the word left Izzy’s lips, Slash wrenched open the door. He was a good seven paces across the lobby before the moaning started, and he knew that the creatures had turned towards him, scenting fresh blood. He’d never been much of a runner before, never thought much of it, really, but as he pounded across the carpeted lobby, he wished he’d been running marathons all his life. He wished he was an Olympic athlete, a sprinter, a fucking jogger even. The blood pounded in his temples and his breath rasped in his throat. Fucking cigarettes. If he made it out of this alive, he’d never smoke again.
Axl was close on his heels; he could hear his friend’s labored breathing over his shoulder. Almost there, just a few more steps. The creatures kept coming, moaning low, and it was starting to get to him. That horrible noise… it was like nothing he’d ever heard before. There was nothing even remotely human about it, nothing at all to suggest that they could be persuaded to show mercy. Slash had to fight back the wild desire to look over his shoulder and see how close they were.
He slammed into the kitchen doors at full speed, gasping and yelping as his shoulder struck the heavy wood and his fingers scrabbled at the knobs. For a horrible second, he thought that the kitchen was locked, then his hand closed around the handle and he was shoving the door open, tumbling into the sterile white and stainless steel, Axl and Izzy right behind him. He turned immediately, flinging his body weight against the doors and slamming them shut. There was a hideous shriek as Izzy dragged a huge prep table across the floor and together, they jammed it against the door.
There was a dull thud from outside and Slash finally allowed himself a terrified little sob. They’d made it! They were in the fucking kitchen, the creatures were on the other side of the door, and no one was hurt. Gasping, he whirled to face the kitchen, expecting to see at least one creature shuffling towards them. The kitchen was empty, however, and Izzy and Axl were already moving through it.
“Remember,” Izzy said, “only take things that won’t go bad.” Axl bent to rummage in a cabinet and resurfaced holding a bunch of heavy canvas bags. “Excellent. Okay, pack as much canned food in there as you can. We’ll send it up in batches, and then worry about water…”
“Send it up?” Slash asked, accepting a bag and crossing the kitchen to rifle through the cupboards. Axl was giving Izzy the same befuddled look, and Izzy cocked his head.
“Yeah. Send it up…” His statement was once again greeted by uncomprehending stares, and he sighed. “This hotel is huge. There’s gonna be a dumbwaiter in here somewhere. We’ll just send Axl up first and he can unload all the shit, and then me and Slash will follow him.” They continued to stare, and Izzy frowned a little. “What? You didn’t think we were gonna go back out into the horde, did you?”
Slash laughed softly and turned back to the task at hand, shaking his head. Axl clapped Izzy on the shoulder and grinned. “Iz, you’re a fucked up guy.” Izzy looked about to protest the statement, but Axl cut him off. “It’s a good thing we have you along.”
