The Creeping Dead: A Zombie Novel Page 23

Suddenly, the knob stopped turning. Nat strained to look through the window, his heart beating out of his chest, and his broken fingers throbbing. He saw the shape of the old woman turn and shuffle out of the room through the frosted glass.

  “What the fuck was that?” asked Sean.

  “Probably some drunk asshole carrying on,” said Pete.

  “Speaking of drunk assholes, what’s taking Nat so long?”

  “He probably passed out in his room,” said Pete. “You know what that means…”

  “We have the two escorts to ourselves.”

  “Exactamundo, brochacho!”

  As if on cue, there was a thud on the door.

  “Speak of the devil…” said Pete, hopping up off the bed. He straightened out his clown getup and flattened his hair while looking in the mirror next to the television.

  He then reached out, turned the knob, and opened the front door. He scratched his head.

  There was an old woman with smoky eyes standing in the doorway with blood dripping from her mouth. She was baring her teeth in a snarl.

  “You’re a bit older than your pics on the site,” said Pete dryly.

  “Is it them?” asked Sean from behind Pete.

  The old woman pitched forward and grabbed Pete by the throat.

  “Jesus!” He stumbled backward.

  The old woman snapped her jaws at him as she dripped blood and saliva from her chin onto his chest.

  “What the fuck?” said Sean.

  “Don’t just stand there! Get her off of me!”

  Sean grabbed the old woman from behind by the waist and pulled her off Pete as she lashed out at him. “She’s strong,” said Sean.

  “Get her out of here!”

  Sean began to drag her by the waist toward the door when she turned around, reaching for his face. Her fingers slipped into his mouth as he gagged. She growled like a bobcat as she tried to crane her neck, her jaws still snapping.

  “Sean!” Pete ran over to them and grabbed the old woman by the neck. He yanked hard, pulling the woman away from his friend and back farther into the room. Her fingers slipped out of Sean’s mouth as he gasped for air, gagging on the copper taste of blood.

  She fought Pete, pulling in the direction of Sean, growling and shrieking like an animal.

  Pete yanked so hard that he heard a snap, and the old woman’s head flopped to the side and then rolled to the back.

  She groped the air around her, looking like a demonic bobble head, the angle of her head unnatural in relation to her neck, as if it had become dislocated.

  “What the fuck is wrong with her?” shouted Pete.

  Sean grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around while being careful to avoid the floppy head with the snapping jaws. He shoved her out the front door and grabbed the knob, pushing it shut. He locked the door and threw on the chain.

  There was a loud thud, and the door shook as the woman shrieked like a banshee. Sean put all his weight up against the door, not trusting the flimsy lock and chain.

  Pete’s cell phone erupted into a loud ring that startled both men. He instinctively picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “We’re here, sweetie,” said a sultry voice.

  Pete swallowed hard as Sean braced himself against the pounding on the front door. “Uh, this isn’t the best time. Can we get a rain check?”

  “Listen, asshole,” said the escort, dropping the veneer, “we came all this way.”

  “Well…we’ve changed our minds.” He heard the bass of a male voice in the background. That would be the pimp. It was muffled, but he was pretty sure the guy was pissed.

  The escort sighed heavily in exasperation. “Hey, if you don’t want to party, that’s fine by me, but we need to get paid for coming out here.”

  “Pete, call the cops,” cried Sean as the doorknob jiggled furiously.

  “If you call the cops, what are you going to say? The prostitutes you guys ordered won’t go away?” said the escort, thinking Sean was referring to her.

  “No, you don’t understand!” pleaded Pete. “There’s this…crazy person trying to get into our room!”

  “Yeah, right.” The phone changed hands. “I’m coming up there to find you assholes, and you’re going to pay up,” said an angry male voice. The pimp hung up the phone.

  “Was that the hooker?” asked Sean, now grabbing the doorknob, trying to hold it still.

  “She’s coming up with her pimp. They want their money.”

  “They can fucking have it!”

  “Hey, let’s sneak out the back. They can tangle with that crazy old bitch out there while we sneak out,” said Pete.

  “Are you kidding? We’re three floors up?”

  “The balconies are real close together. We can climb to the one next door.”

  “And then what?” asked Sean. “They’ll see us.”

  The pounding on the door stopped, and they heard footsteps outside.

  “Who the fuck are you?” asked the deep male voice outside.

  “What’s wrong with her head?” asked one of the escorts. It didn’t sound like Kyra, so it must’ve been the other one.

  They heard the old woman wail and hurried footsteps. “Oh, shit!” shouted the pimp. There was growling and feet shuffling on the floor one door over.

  “Now!” shouted Pete.

  Pete ran to the back door, Sean following right behind, and onto the balcony. Sean closed the door behind them as Pete already had his leg over the balcony railing. He reached out, grabbed the railing of the next balcony, and hopped over to it.

  Sean threw his leg over the railing as Pete pulled himself over and onto the next balcony. “C’mon, Sean,” he whispered.

  Sean hopped to the next balcony, and Pete grabbed his hands, pulling him over the railing. Sean landed on the new balcony on his side, but he was on his feet quickly.

  “One more over,” whispered Pete.

  They each jumped to the next balcony, careful to get a good grip on the railing, as it was covered with beach towels draped over it set out to dry.

  As Sean made it over, Pete looked down and saw the escort running to a black car in the parking lot below. “C’mon, Laquan!” she shouted, pacing back and forth.

  The one that must’ve been Kyra sat in the passenger seat. She lowered the window. “What’s going on?”

  “Some crazy old lady’s going crazy on Laquan.”

  “The pimp,” explained Pete in a whisper as he and Sean looked down on the parking lot.

  Kyra got out of the car. “We gotta get out of here.” Her pimp was nowhere to be found.

  The other escort pulled out a cigarette. Her hand trembled, and she struggled with the lighter because she shook so hard. She finally lit the cigarette and took a drag, looking nervously around the parking lot.

  “Do you think that lady got him?” asked Sean.

  They heard a crash two doors over that shook their balcony. Pete grabbed Sean and pulled him down behind the towels as the pimp burst out onto their balcony.

  Pete clamped a hand over Sean’s mouth, stifling a scream. Fortunately, they were encased in towels on all sides, so neither the pimp nor Kyra would be able to see them.

  “Where the fuck did they go?” shouted the pimp down to Kyra. He clutched a bleeding wound on his arm.

  “How the fuck should I know?” she called back. Let’s get out of here before the cops come!”

  There was a pause, and Pete silently prayed that the pimp would be in too much of a hurry to get out of there to figure out where they were.

  Sean peeked along the side of the beach towel facing their old balcony, and he saw the pimp disappear back into the room. “He left,” he whispered to Pete.

  Pete put a finger up to his lips, hushing his friend.

  They heard cursing down below in the parking lot. Two car doors slammed, and they heard a car peel out. Slowly, Pete and Sean peeked around the edges of the towel.

  The parking lot was empty.

  “Nat,” said
Pete. “We have to check on Nat.”

  “What about the police?” asked Sean.

  “We check on Nat, first.”

  They crossed back over to their balcony, ran into their room, and saw that the front door had been pushed open, the chain broken, and the flimsy doorknob ripped off.

  “Jesus,” said Sean.

  They listened for any sound outside the room, but it was silent. “Let’s go,” said Pete, deciding it was safe. He peeked out the front door. The floor was empty. “All clear.”

  Sean popped his head out. “Where’d that old lady go?”

  “I don’t know, but she ain’t here.”

  Sean followed Pete to the staircase, and they climbed down two steps at a time. They dashed to Nat’s room and found the door ajar. The room was dark.

  Pete and Sean looked at each other. Sean swallowed hard.

  “Nat,” called Pete into the room. They waited. No response.

  Pete grabbed Sean by the sleeve of his clown outfit and pulled him into the room. He flicked on the light switch. “Holy shit.”

  The room was covered in vomit, and there was blood spatter on the walls. The room reeked of bodily fluids.

  “Do you think…you know…the old lady?”

  “Fuck if I know,” gasped Pete. “Where’s Nat?”

  “Now we call the police?”

  “Yeah, now we call the police.”

  Chapter 14

  Alice Krueger walked Chief Holbrook and Officer Pike up to the second floor, where they found Pete and Sean standing outside their missing friend’s room. Pete had his hands on the railing and was looking past the glow of the hotel’s sign out onto the street. Sean had his arms folded and paced back and forth. Both were dressed in bloodstained clown getups.

  “Are these the men?” Holbrook asked Alice.

  “Those are the ones who made a royal mess out of my rooms. There’s a third one, but he’s gone.”

  Pete overheard Alice’s remark. “He’s missing.”

  “He probably didn’t want to pay for all the damage you damned clowns caused,” she countered.

  Holbrook put his right hand up to quiet Alice while rubbing the sleep out of his eye with the thumb forefinger of his left. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

  “We were attacked,” said Sean defensively.

  Holbrook signaled to Pike to watch the two clowns as he pulled his flashlight from his hip. He pushed the door open and entered the room.

  He shook his head as he saw red and brown stains all over the bedding, walls, and carpet. There was even spatter on the drop ceiling.

  “This crazy old lady tried to bite us upstairs,” said Sean to Holbrook’s back. “She was throwing up blood all over the place.”

  “An old lady? Did you know her?” asked Holbrook over his shoulder, still drinking in the condition of the room. He looked down and saw drag marks in the spatter on the carpet.

  “No, she just knocked on our door. But we were upstairs.”

  Holbrook turned around. “So you were attacked by this old woman upstairs?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what happened in this room?”

  Pete turned around. “We don’t know. Our friend, Nat, left our room upstairs to come down to his room…this room…to get more refreshments.”

  Pike leaned in and sniffed Pete. “Been drinking tonight?”

  “Yeah,” said Pete, weary and resigned, “we were doing shots.”

  “So your friend went down to get more alcohol,” said Holbrook. “Then what?”

  “We heard some weird sounds coming from down here,” said Sean. “Like screaming.”

  “And then what?”

  “We were joking about Nat taking a good dump down here,” said Pete, “because he didn’t come right back up.”

  “Did either of you go to check on him?” asked Holbrook.

  “We never got the chance,” said Pete. “There was a knock at the door. When I answered it, this crazy old lady rushed me, trying to grab me and bite me. She was vomiting blood everywhere. And brown stuff.”

  “So, what happened next?” prompted Holbrook.

  “We got her out of the room, and—”

  “How did you get her out?” asked Holbrook. “The details are important.”

  “We…we pushed her out,” said Pete. “We didn’t want to hurt her. Obviously there was something wrong with her. We just wanted to get her out.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then we closed the front door and locked it.”

  “And then what?”

  “We waited, hoping she’d go away. Then we heard a tussle outside.”

  “A tussle?”

  “Yeah,” said Sean, “like a fight.”

  “How did you know it was a fight?” asked Holbrook.

  “We heard raised voices,” said Pete. “Then grunting and feet shuffling.”

  “Who was fighting outside your room?”

  “I don’t know,” said Pete. “Probably the old lady attacked someone else.”

  “What did the other voices sound like?”

  Holbrook saw Pete and Sean trade nervous glances.

  “A male and a female, I think,” said Pete.

  “Officer Pike,” said Holbrook, looking at his watch. It was almost four in the morning. Pike nodded. “Start knocking on doors, starting upstairs. See if all of the other guests are accounted for. Get some statements from anyone who might’ve seen or heard anything. Get Joann and Breslin down here to come help. Tell Joann we’ll need a kit and some tape.”

  “What about these clowns?” asked Pike.

  Holbrook grinned. “Don’t worry. I don’t think Alice is letting them out of her sight.”

  Alice crossed her arms adamantly and stood next to the two men as Pike disappeared upstairs.

  “Okay,” continued Holbrook, “so there was a fight upstairs. Then what?”

  “Well, it got quiet,” said Pete. Holbrook noticed how this man was taking charge of the story, the other following his lead. Holbrook looked forward to interrogating them separately at the station to see what the other one would say. The devil was in the details, and Holbrook had a feeling there was going to be some telling contradictions. “So, I opened the door to take a peek, and everyone was gone.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  “Any blood on the floor upstairs, or any sign of a struggle?”

  “Not that I could see.”

  “Well, why don’t we have a look upstairs,” said Holbrook. “Alice, lead the way.”

  Alice stomped off to the staircase. Holbrook gestured for them to follow, so the two clowns followed close behind her. Holbrook brought up the rear, keeping his eyes on both clowns.

  Alice stopped just outside of their room. “Here it is, Chief.”

  Holbrook pushed the door open with his flashlight again, noticing the large footprint on the outside of the door, the missing doorknob, and the damage to the door frame. He reached inside and flicked on the lights, peering into the room. “Okay, so then what?”

  “Then we decided to check on Nat to see if he was okay. Then we called you guys.”

  Holbrook rubbed his temples. “So, at what point was the door kicked in?”

  He saw Sean and Pete exchange nervous glances again. “It was the man outside involved in the fight. He must’ve been pissed off and kicked down the door,” said Pete.

  “Was this before, after, or during your trip downstairs to check on your friend?”

  “It must’ve been after we left,” said Pete, looking at Sean.

  “Yeah,” said Sean, “because when we came back the door was already kicked in.”

  Holbrook frowned. “Alice, at what point did you find out about all of this?”

  “There were a few complaints about the noise coming from the back building,” said Alice. “I threw on my robe and found these two outside of the room downstairs, waiting for you.”

  Holbrook cocked his head sidewa
ys. “So, you never left that room once you called 9-1-1?”

  “That’s right,” said Pete.

  Holbrook cleared his throat. “Your friend, here, said that when you two came back to the room, you saw that the door had been broken down.”

  “I…well…I don’t remember the exact order of how everything happened,” said Pete rubbing his eyes. It was a nervous gesture more than a weary one. “The manager, here—”

  “Owner,” corrected Alice.

  “Owner,” continued Pete, “was yelling at us, accusing us of breaking down the door upstairs. That must’ve been how we knew.”

  “I see.” Holbrook was sizing the two men up. He knew they were omitting something, which means that something had to be something illegal. “Why would the man kick down your door?”

  “I dunno,” said Pete nervously. “Maybe he thought she belonged to us. Maybe he saw us shove her out of our room.”

  “Maybe he was drunk and pissed off,” added Sean.

  Holbrook walked into the room and saw liquor bottles littering the small table and dresser. There were souvenir shot glasses on the nightstand between the two beds. There was some more red and brown spatter, especially on the back door to the balcony, which was ajar at the moment.

  “You got the old woman out of the room quickly?”

  “Yes. As quickly as we could without hurting her,” said Pete.

  “What happened with this back door?” asked Holbrook, looking through the doorway and stepping out onto the balcony. He turned on his flashlight and shined it around the little balcony. He directed the beam on the resin chairs and little table, and then all along the railing. He noticed blood on the railing to the left.

  “Before we pushed her out of the room, we tried to go on the balcony to get away from her,” answered Pete.

  Holbrook saw more bloody fingerprints on the railing of the next balcony on the left. “And you said you pushed her out the front door?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Show me your hands.”

  Pete and Sean looked at each other perplexed. “Excuse me?” asked Pete.

  “I said, ‘Show me your hands,’” insisted Holbrook coolly.

  The two clowns held out their hands.

  Holbrook shined the flashlight on them. “Now palms up, please.”