The Body Farm: Conclusion

Content Advisory: The series contains scenes of zombie horror that some may find disturbing. The series started on 22nd August.

The Body Farm

Conclusion

Eleanor sat on her haunches, her whole body trembling, trying to her catch breath. She glanced over to see Jimmy folded into two, his face in his hand, his shoulders heaving. She reached out and lightly touched his shoulder, making him look up. His face was wet with tears.

“I’ve been bitten,” Jimmy sobbed. “One of the fuckers got me.”

Seeing tears on a grown man unnerved Eleanor, but she rubbed his back, trying to offer some comfort.

None of them spoke about Kyle; the gaping hole that had suddenly appeared between and beneath them. Yet each of them wondered, ‘could they have done anything to save him? Had they made mistakes?’

Eleanor checked Jimmy’s injury. Teeth marks penetrated the flesh of his leg, a chunk of skin hanging like an open door from his calf. She tore off part of her shirt and wrapped his wound.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’ll live. But we’ve got to keep moving. I don’t know if those things will figure out a way to get in here but I don’t plan on hanging around to find out.”

“She’s right,” said Robert. “We need to get to the roof. We’ll be able to get a better assessment of the situation from there.”

“Assessment of the situation?” Jimmy’s tone was too high. “The situation is we’re surrounded by fucking zombies. That’s the fucking situation!”

“Well we need to do something,” Robert said. “Sitting around in a pipe like a bunch of hamsters in a Rotastak isn’t exactly going to save us.”

“This isn’t helping anyone, gentlemen,” she hissed. “Let’s just move!”

In the confined space, they hunched on their hands and knees, heads lowered. Robert led the way, with Eleanor in the middle and Jimmy bringing up the rear. Being the largest of the depleted group, Robert struggled most, his shoulders almost wedging when they needed to take a turning, the vents crossing in a, ‘t’.

“I’m not feeling well,” Jimmy moaned from behind. Sweat poured from his brow.

“Just keep going, Jimmy,” said Eleanor, trying to sound more confident than she felt. She didn’t like having him crawling along behind her. They had no idea what happened to someone who had been bitten by one of the dead things and the thought of him suddenly attacking her and sinking his own teeth into her leg stayed at the front of her mind. “We can take a look at you as soon as we reach the roof,” she continued. “We’re bound to come across the vent to the outside world soon.”

She was right. Within five minutes they hit a solid silver wall. The only option was to head up the square, vertical shaft. Another grate blocked the way about six feet overhead, but beyond the metal they saw an indigo blue sky with stars that were quickly being put out, one by one.

Eleanor thanked the gods the research center was only single story. If the vent rose up several stories, they’d be fucked.

Relieved she’d thought to pocket the scalpel—it was a weapon after all—she reached into the back pocket of her pants and pulled out the slim, cool metal. She passed the scalpel to Robert, careful to slide between him and the vent, not wanted to accidently cut him in the confined space.

“Here,” she said. “Work your magic.”

Robert took the blade and squeezed himself into the cramped space, wriggling shoulders and arms to reach over his head, standing to his full height. The metal walls pressed in on every side except one and he reached up, up toward the stars, and put the scalpel to work.

The time dragged by painful slowly as Eleanor waited for Robert to loosen the screws and pop the grate. Jimmy’s presence behind her made her whole body tighten with nerves. His heavy breathing filled the tight space and his body odor had taken on the rank, stifling smell of rotting meat.

Finally, the small screws pinged to the bottom of the vent and Robert was able to push the grate out of its home. He hooked his fingers over the edge and hauled himself up and onto the roof. Within moments, his face reappeared, blocking out the sky. Eleanor wriggled herself into the vent—an easier job than Robert had because of her size—and lifted her arms up toward him. He reached down, his warm strong palms catching around both of hers, and he hauled her up.

Eleanor tumbled onto the roof, gasping in a lungful of relatively clean air. To have the new day’s fresh breeze against her face felt better than anything she could remember.

“Guys…” The weak call echoed up the vent and Eleanor and Robert shared a glance.

“Is he okay?” asked Robert under his voice.

“I don’t think so, but we can’t leave him down there.”

Robert nodded and leaned back over the shaft, reaching down to hoist Jimmy up to join them.

The three of them sat on the flat, asphalt roof. Above, the sky was beginning to lighten. Hard to believe they’d been trapped in the building all night. In the increasing light, they saw more of the dead, many of them now seeming to stumble around without purpose, a contrast to the fast, driven creatures they’d witnessed before.

“Why the change?” whispered Eleanor, not wanting to be heard.

“I don’t know,” said Robert, frowning. “Do you think the worms only have a certain life-span? Perhaps they die quickly.”

“Hmmm,” she said, her mind whirring. “The only organisms I know that have such a short life cycle are one’s who’ve spawned.”

Robert rolled his eyes, “Great.”

Jimmy’s face was white, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. “I don’t feel well,” he said again, only this time his voice was faint.

Eleanor and Robert exchanged a worried glance.

Past the stumbling dead rose the high, solid metal security gates, allowing access to and from the facility. Beyond the high, barbed wire tipped walls, beyond the locked gates, was freedom.

Jimmy twisted to all fours and vomited on the asphalt roofing, his whole body straining like a cat with a fur ball. As he sat up, he began to cry again.

“I kicked him off me,” he said. “Kyle was only a kid and he begged for my help and I just kicked him off.”

Eleanor and Robert shared another glance. Eleanor patted Jimmy’s shoulder, trying not to grimace at feel of his cold, sweat-soaked clothing. The stench coming off him now was almost unbearable, making her want to cover her face with her hand.

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “The only things to blame are those fucking things down there.”

“I should have let him go first. He’d have been faster than me. He would have got up without being bitten.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He was young. He had his whole life ahead of him. Now both of us are goners.”

“You’ll be fine,” Eleanor said. “We just need to get you some medical attention.”

Jimmy gave a sound half-way between and cry and a laugh. “I don’t think there are many medics up here.”

“We’ll figure out a way to get down. All we’ve got to do is create some kind of distraction, get the dead things away from the main gates, and then we make a run for it.”

Her comment hung over them like a cloud. They knew Jimmy wasn’t running anywhere.

The dead milled around below them, as yet unaware of the live humans above. The gates seemed so far away; an almost impossible distance.

Jimmy climbed to his feet. “I think I’ve got an idea for a distraction,” he said, his voice grating and weak. “You two take care of each other.” And with that, he broke into a run, heading to the back of the roof.

“Jimmy!” Eleanor yelled, but he’d caught them by surprise and before they’d even managed to leap to their feet, Jimmy plummeted off the edge.

Eleanor and Robert stared after him in shock.

The feasting below began, a shrieking of both rage and pleasure. As far as they could see, all of the dead ran toward the sound, fleeing from the space between the roof and freedom.

Robert seized their chance. “Go!” he yelled, pushing Eleanor toward the edge. The drop looked like a frighteningly long way, but they had no choice. Robert went first, backing off the side until he hung by his fingers, and then dropped the rest of the way as silently as possible.

“Come on,” he hissed. “I’ll catch you.”

Eleanor copied Robert’s actions, skirting backward until her feet hung over the edge. With her heart pounding, she hooked her fingers onto the edge of the flat roof. The muscles in her back and arms trembled as they took her body weight and she dangled in mid-air.

“Let go!” Robert hissed.

Eleanor took a deep breath, released her grip and dropped into his arms. Pressed against his chest, she looked up at him. Their eyes locked for the briefest of seconds before they remembered where they were.

He grabbed her hand and they took off toward the gates, Robert pulling her along.

Behind them came the sound of pounding feet, followed by more screams.

The dead were coming.

The scientists’ feet hit the ground, breath gasping in and out of their lungs. They hit the big metal gates at a run, slamming up against them. The same card pinned to their belts allowed access to and from the facility.

Eleanor swiped her card. The dead were getting closer—things with decayed faces and rotten fingers, reaching for them. She tried to swipe the gate, her fingers fumbling the card, almost dropping it. Too fast, she tried again, and the lock didn’t register.

“Hurry,” urged Robert.

“God damn it,” she swore, but tried again and the gates buzzed green.

Eleanor and Robert burst from the facility, out into the real world. They slammed the gate behind them and the barrier automatically locked, the light showing red. Bodies hit the other side like flies hitting a windshield, their groans and screeches filling the early morning. Eleanor wondered if Jimmy was among them.

Robert’s hand found Eleanor’s, their fingers entwining.

“What now?” he said, as they stood on the side of a deserted, narrow road.

“I don’t know. But whatever this thing is, I think the authorities will need my help. There are only thirty forensic entomologists in the whole of the United States and I’m one of them.”

Robert set his jaw. “I’d better do my best to make sure you don’t get killed then.”

Eleanor smiled and squeezed his hand.

For the moment, the area they were in remained quiet but they had no idea what to expect as they headed toward the city. The horrifying world they’d found themselves in contained unimaginable terrors but they’d found a new strength.

Each other.

~*~

Like what you've read? Marissa Farrar's short story collection, Where the Dead Live, is available to buy from Amazon for only $0.99.


If you would like to catch up on any of our posts or get a preview of the rest of this month's stories, you can purchase the eBook, Digital Digest, Volume 1, from Amazon and Barnes & Noble for only $0.99!

Marissa Farrar

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Copyright © 2011 Marissa Farrar. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

The Body Farm; Part Four

Content Advisory: Contains scenes of zombie horror. This series started on 22nd August.

The Body Farm

Part Four

As though the flat, white worms sensed the approaching dead, they squirmed, twisted and flipped—unraveling from the body on the slab. They slipped away from the still jerking flesh, across the table, dropping on the floor.

“Oh, shit,” swore Robert, dancing away from the worms as they slithered like a swarm of tiny snakes toward the door.

“If you’ve got any open wounds,” said Eleanor stepping away from one heading in her direction. “For God’s sake, don’t let them get near you. I’m guessing they can’t infect the living, but best we don’t take any chances.”

“Damn right,” said Jimmy, skipping out of the way of a squirming length, surprisingly fast for a man of his age.

                   

Robert growled in disgust and brought his heel down on one of the worms. The creature crushed beneath his sole, leaving a white gooey smear.

                                            

The screams and shrieks of the dead grew closer and each of the room’s inhabitants glanced uneasily at the door.

“It’s locked, right?” Kyle asked. “They can’t get in?”

Robert grimaced, “Yeah the door’s locked, but if Lenny is with them, they might be able to open it.”

“What the hell are we standing around for then?” said Jimmy.

With her still gloved hands, Eleanor went to push the corpse off the slab. The cold body jerked beneath her palms and she instinctively pulled back. She’d touched plenty of cadavers in her career, but never ones that had continued to move long after dissection. Swallowing her revulsion, she placed on hand against its shoulder and another on its hip and gave the body a shove. It slid from the table and hit the floor with a sickening thud. Even on the floor, the body continued in its strange uncoordinated spasms, its arms and legs twitching. More worms unraveled from the body as jerked on the floor.

“Help me move this,” she said, gripping the edge of the table.

The men each took a corner and, dodging the worms still squirming around their feet, they pushed the table beneath the metal grilled vent in the ceiling.

The dead rounded the corner like a swarm of rats in a sewer tunnel. A recently deceased, bloated man led the hoard. His eyes were glassy, his stomach distended like a seven months pregnant woman. With outstretch arms and fingers hooked into claws, his purpose took no guessing. Another flanked him—a woman—her hair flapping around the sides of her sunken face in coils of dirty rope. Close behind, another corpse followed, this one undistinguishable in sex. Dried skin hung from its face in flaps, white bone peeking through the decomposed flesh.

“Go! Go! Go,” Robert shouted, pushing Eleanor up on the table.

Eleanor reached up but her fingertips barely scraped the vent. “I can’t reach it!”

Robert scrambled up beside her. He placed his palms flat against the vent and shoved. The metal grill didn’t budge.

“Hurry up, Robert,” yelled Jimmy. “They’re at the door.”

Eleanor swung her head around to see at least twenty faces of the dead pressed up against the glass. Their hands clawed and battered at the door and windows, leaving smears of rotten flesh and pus across the glass. Their shrieks of fury, though muffled, filled the room.

“Find something to bash it in with,” yelled Robert.

Eleanor searched the make-up of the grill for something that might allow them access. Screws held down the cover.

She motioned with her hand to the tray of instruments she’d used to dissect the body. “Quick, pass me the scalpel.”

Kyle grabbed the instrument and handed it up to her.

The added length of the handle meant she could now reach. She fitted the blade into one of the screws and turned. The screw resisted for a moment and then gave way, winding undone.

“Find me one,” demanded Robert.

Beyond the glass, the hoards of dead things piled upon one another, crushing into the narrow space of the corridor, several bodies deep.

With Robert working as well, the screws popped from their threads, pinging to the ground, and the grate became loose in its casting.

With a high-pitched creak, the glass of the door began to split.

Robert shoved the grate out of the way. “Come on,” he motioned to Eleanor. “I’ll push you up.”

“No, you need to go first. You can pull the rest of us up. If you’re down here by yourself, we’ll never be able to pull you up.”

It was true. At six-foot-two, he outweighed Kyle by at least fifty pounds, and Jimmy was too old to pull Robert up. Eleanor would never have the upper body strength.

“Shit,” he swore, but there wasn’t time to argue. He hooked his fingers over the edge of the shaft and allowed both Eleanor and Kyle to boost him up. As soon as he was up, he leaned back down the hole and grabbed Eleanor, pulling her up with him.

The glass creaked once again.

“Hurry!” Jimmy called.

With the awkward motion of a man whose joints had seen better days, Jimmy climbed on the table.

“They’re coming!” Kyle screamed, his eyes bulging in fear.

The gap in the ceiling was only big enough for one person to reach down, so Eleanor had to sit back, allowing Robert to lean through. He grabbed Jimmy’s wiry wrist just as the glass of the door burst inward, the windows quickly following. Glass tinkled like fallen shards of ice.

Kyle shrieked, clambering at the table. Robert pulled, lifting Jimmy off the table, Jimmy’s legs dangling in mid-air. The dead swarmed in, barging past each other in their eagerness to get to them.

“Help!” screamed Kyle. “Fucking help me!”

The younger man grabbed hold of Jimmy’s leg, trying to drag him away, to clear the space.

“Hey!” Robert yelled as Jimmy was yanked back down, pulling on Robert’s arms as though he were deep sea fishing and had hooked something big. “Get the fuck off him!”

But Kyle’s terror had him in its grip and he was too far gone to pay any attention. The dead swarmed over him like ants on a candy bar.

The young man’s shrieks of panic turned to screams of pain.

Jimmy kicked and yelled even as Robert tried to pull him up, but the older man’s weight had doubled.

“One of them has got me!” the older man yelled. “Oh, shit…”

Eleanor grabbed the top of Robert’s arm and helped him pull. Together they yanked while Jimmy thrashed and yelled in their grip.

“For fuck’s sake, hold still!” Robert shouted.

“One of them has got me! One of them has fucking got me”

Eleanor pulled, trying not to hear Kyle’s horrified screams. There was nothing they could do for the boy now. The room was filled with the living dead.

Jimmy’s weight suddenly lightened and they pulled him up, all falling backward in the confines of the chute.

“Kyle!” Jimmy cried, clambering to his hands and knees and peering back down. But the boy was gone. Below them, a sea of dead arms and legs flailed, teeth gnashing. The enraged shrieks of the dead drowned out the boy’s screams—if he were even still alive to make such a sound.

They sat back. The dead things would never be able to climb up to the vent. For the moment, at least, they were safe.

~*~

The Body Farm concludes tomorrow!

Like what you've read? Marissa Farrar's short story collection, Where the Dead Live, is available to buy from Amazon for only $0.99.


If you would like to catch up on any of our posts or get a preview of the rest of this month's stories, you can purchase the eBook, Digital Digest, Volume 1, from Amazon and Barnes & Noble for only $0.99!

Marissa Farrar

~Facebook ~Twitter~  Blog~

Copyright © 2011 Marissa Farrar. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

The Body Farm; Part Three

Content Advisory: This serial started with a post on the 22nd August. Contains scenes of horror and language some people may find disturbing.

The Body Farm

Part Three

Back in the security booth, four people watched as the dead made a meal of the dead. Only, on closer inspection, they didn’t appear to be eating Lenny. Instead they tore holes in his flesh with their fingers and teeth; ripping, gouging, tearing. The man was a mess of red. Blood covered every part of his skin.

In unison, the things stopped the attack and surrounded him, leaning over the body.

Eleanor frowned and craned her neck closer to the screen. Something white whipped out of the living dead, lashing and slithering into Lenny’s wounds.

“What the hell is that?” said Robert.

“I don’t know,” said Eleanor. “Can we zoom in the cameras?” she directed the question at the older of the security guards. “Get a better shot?”

“Sure.” Jimmy tapped some keys on the computer and the lens of the security camera zoomed.

Even on high focus, they only saw a blur of white movement between the bodies.

“We need to know what we’re dealing with,” said Eleanor.

Robert cocked his head, “What are you thinking?”

“If we can get one on the table, I’ll be able to take a look.”

Kyle rounded on her. “Are you fucking joking?”

“Knowledge is power. If we know what we’re up against, we might be able to understand their weaknesses.”

The young man stared at her, his eyes wide. “You’re insane.”

“No, I’m not. I’m a scientist and I’m doing my job.”

“Well I’m not going anywhere near one of those things.”

“Fine, you stay hiding in here. See how long you last if they figure out a way to get in.”

As though on cue, the lights above flickered again.

On screen, Lenny began to get to his feet.

“Oh shit,” breathed Robert.                

Lenny stumbled, wobbly, like a drunk trying to find his balance.

“Are you sure he’s dead,” asked Jimmy.

Eleanor didn’t grace his question with an answer. Half of Lenny’s face had been torn from his skull. Flaps of skin hung from his arms and legs. Blood coated his skin and there was a dark slick across the floor he’d so meticulously cleaned.

His body jerked, his limbs lifting and realigning, like a puppet settling into position. Beside him, the other bodies lined up, closing around him.

Together, almost acting as one, they headed down the corridor.

They walked off camera, the people in the security office losing sight.

Jimmy frantically tapped the computer keys again, switching security cameras. The small group of the dead had moved further along the corridor, reaching the door at the end—the one leading to the control center. The swipe card to open the room still hung from Lenny’s belt. The corpse pulled the card on its retractable cord and swiped the lock. The red light switched to green.

“Oh shit, how do they know what to do?” said Robert.

Eleanor shook her head. “I have no idea.”

“They’re going to cut the power,” Kyle whined, panic heightening the tone of his voice

“Yeah, but we’ve got back up generators,” said Jimmy.

Eleanor chewed her lower lip. “It’ll be long enough to let some of their friends from outside in.”

Kyle stared around at each of them. “This is insane. You mean those dead people—those fucking zombies!—are intelligent? They understand technology and they have some kind of way of communicating, like telepathy?”

“It might be telepathy,” said Eleanor, biting down her impatience, “but I suspect it’s more like an insect colony, where each member has a job to do. They look like they’re working together, but really they’re just acting instinctively.”

Kyle scowled, “They sure look fucking intelligent to me.”

Eleanor shook her head, her eyes still trained on the screen. “They can’t be; they’re dead. Whatever has happened doesn’t change the fact that those people are dead. I had one of them lying on my slab only an hour ago.”

On screen, the things disappeared inside the control room. Each of the living froze, breath held in anticipation. The lights flickered once again and suddenly they were plunged into darkness.

Somewhere in the confined space, what sounded like a woman screamed, though Eleanor was pretty sure she hadn’t made the sound.

Kyle gibbered, “Oh God, I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.”

“Pull yourself together, Kyle,” she hissed.

The warmth of Robert’s hand closed over her own. Having his solid presence there gave her strength. The thought of being here alone, with only Jimmy and Kyle for company made her want to crumble inside.

“What do we do?” Robert whispered.

Eleanor answered, “We wait.”

In the cocoon of darkness, Eleanor’s imagination ran riot. In the distance came the clicking of doors opening, the sound of dead feet pounding on the linoleum.

Come on, come on, come on, she willed the generator to get going.

Suddenly the lights came back on, not as bright as before, dimmed to reduce the amount of power used. They all blinked in the illumination, their eyes growing accustomed to the light.

 Eleanor froze.

One of the dead things walked past the security booth’s window, a slow steady gait. The living corpse was small, probably only five-feet-five when it had been alive, but now, in death, it was shrunken and hunched. The level of decomposition made it impossible to tell if the thing had been male or female, but the filthy remains of a red dress hung from its emaciated frame.

Someone gave a thin whine of fear but the thing didn’t hear—if it could hear at all. Its ears had all but rotted away, as had the rest of its face. There was no way this thing could see where it was going.

So how do they know where they’re going? Eleanor wondered.

Still, the thing seemed to be alone.

“Now’s our chance,” she hissed at the men. “Just grab a limb each and wrestled it into the nearest lab. Oh, and try not to get bitten.”

Before any of them had a chance to respond, Eleanor swiped her keycard to open the door and ran out into the corridor.

The men glanced at each other, “Oh shit,” said Jimmy.

They followed close behind.

Eleanor grabbed the thing’s wrist, her fingers closing around its cold, slick flesh. A shriek of rage emitted from its throat and it spun around to face her. She struggled to keep hold, its flesh pulling away from the bone in a spongy mass. Then the men were upon it, grabbing arms and legs. The thing snapped and snarled, whipping its hideous head around, trying to tear a hole in one of its captors.

“In there!” Eleanor yelled, jerking her head toward the lab door beside them.

Things moved beneath Eleanor’s palm, something strong and musculature. She resisted the urge to pull away, already knowing this whole thing was completely wrong.

Robert grabbed the things ankle, pulling it off balance. The creature sprawled on its back, writhing and squirming in blind fury. “Come on!” yelled Robert, one hand wrapped around its ankle, the other around its wrist.

“Get it into the lab and lock the God-damn door.”

Jimmy jumped in and took hold of the other ankle. Kyle stood in the doorway of the security booth, his face pale, trembling.

Eleanor called out to him as they wrestled the creature into the lab, “You coming, Kyle. Or are you staying out here by yourself?”

The young man hesitated, “Oh fuck,” he swore, and chased them into the lab.

Eleanor and the two men slammed the twisting, shrieking corpse onto the cold silver of the table. A tray of dissecting tools sat by the stainless steel sink.

“Hold it down,” Eleanor yelled above the screaming. She couldn’t do anything while the thing fought. Her brain whirred, her scientific mind trying to overcome the part of her that screamed, ‘run!’

I need to stop it moving. I’ll never be able to learn anything like this.

Trying not to think about what she was doing, Eleanor grabbed the scalpel from the tray.

“Flip it over, and then hold it as still as you can,” she instructed the two men.

Robert shot her a look that said, ‘Are you joking?’ But the set of his jaw highlighted his determination and between him and Jimmy, they managed to flip the thing onto its stomach and then held the fighting corpse down on the table.

Eleanor stepped in, scalpel in hand. She pressed the cool metal against the back of the thing’s neck. Using her anatomical knowledge, she pressed the blade down, skillfully finding the joint between the corpse’s vertebrate, slicing down. Because of the state of the things decomposition, the flesh was soft and mushy, easy to cut.

It shrieked in rage.

“Jesus Christ!” exclaimed Kyle. “Its friends are going to hear and come running.”

“Shut up, Kyle,” snapped Robert. “You’re not exactly helping.”

With a final push, Eleanor severed the spinal column. The screaming stopped but the body still writhed and squirmed, like a snake after its head had been cut off.

Breathing hard, Eleanor took a moment to compose herself before stepping back to the table. In a long stroke, she sliced the flesh of the thing’s arm, exposing the bone.

“Look at this,” she said.             

White worms, a matter of only a few millimeters in width wrapped around the bones of the corpse. As she watched, the worms contracted and then spread again, changing in both width and length.

As they moved, the corpse’s limbs spasmed.

She glanced up at Robert, “What does that remind you of?”

“Tendons,” Robert answered immediately. “They look like tendons.”

“It would explain how these corpses are moving when they’re so badly decomposed. These things are acting as a new skeletal muscle.”

“What the hell are they?” asked Jimmy, peering over Eleanor’s shoulder.

“You ever heard of one creature controlling another’s behavior or appearance?” she asked. “It’s common in insects and viruses. Take rabies, for example. The virus is transmitted in saliva so it makes it victim drool, have a propensity to bite, and is terrified of water, which might wash the virus away. And that’s just one example; I could tell you numerous which are even more fantastical.”

“So are you saying these things have taken over the bodies?”

“It sure as hell looks that way. I don’t know if these worms are the mature creature or if they’re just the larvae.”

“Jesus,” exclaimed Robert. “It’s no worm I’ve ever seen before.”

“Sometimes insect pupa can survive below ground for many, many years. Only when the circumstances are exactly right will they spawn.”

“If that’s right,” Robert continued, “how did they get inside the bodies in the building?”

“All the bodies were outside at some point, right? Buried in the ground in some way. I suspect those still in the morgue, the ones that haven’t been buried yet, are still as good as dead… at least until they come into contact with the infected bodies.”

“But how do they know what they’re doing?” asked Jimmy. “When they infected Lenny, he got right up and headed to the control room.”

“When I cut the spinal cord, the movement changed. These things must be making some kind of contact with whatever brain is left and feeding into it somehow. Perhaps because Lenny was only just dead, they fed into his surviving brain and tapped into his intelligence.”

A strange squawk of laughter came from Kyle. “So you’re saying the more people they kill and infect, the more intelligent they’ll become?”

With a sinking stomach, Eleanor said, “It’s possible.”

“Christ.”

“We need to figure out what to do,” said Robert. “We’re surrounded by the dead here. At least outside of the walls, there are others living.”

“What about the calls we placed?” said Jimmy. “They didn’t exactly install confidence that things are going great in the outside world either.”

Eleanor shook her head. “No, but at least we’d stand a chance. If we wait in here, it’s only a matter of time. We’ll never be able to kill them all; if they can even be killed.”

“They’re surrounding us,” said Kyle. “How the hell are we supposed to get out?”

Jimmy glanced up. “What about vent shafts? They could take us up onto the roof.”

“Yeah,” said Kyle. “And what do we do when we get there?”

The older man scowled at him. “I don’t know yet. You got any better suggestions?”

From down the corridor came the sound of feet hitting the linoleum. Shrieks rage accompanied the approaching footsteps.

Eleanor shot a glance at Robert. “I don’t think we’ve got time to argue…”

~*~

The Body Farm will continue next month...

Like what you've read? Marissa Farrar's short story collection, Where the Dead Live, is available to buy from Amazon for only $0.99.


If you would like to catch up on any of our posts or get a preview of the rest of this month's stories, you can purchase the eBook, Digital Digest, Volume 1, from Amazon and Barnes & Noble for only $0.99!

Marissa Farrar

~Facebook ~Twitter~  Blog~

Copyright © 2011 Marissa Farrar. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

The Body Farm; Part Two

Content Advisory: Contains scenes of violence and horror some may find disturbing. This serial started on the 08/22/11.

The Body Farm

Part Two

They burst into the building, slamming the doors behind them, the automatic locks clicking into place.

Bernie slammed into the glass pane, clawing and grasping at the window.

The two doctors backed away, trembling, their eyes wide with shock.

“What the hell…” Eleanor breathed.

Another body came running toward them—one Eleanor didn’t recognize. Yet still it seemed to be filled with such fury and hate, focused on getting to them.

                                    

“What the hell is going on?” demanded Robert.

Eleanor’s heart raced. This wasn’t possible. This simply couldn’t be possible.

 She’d seen people she knew were dead, run and move like the living.

They were surrounded. On every side of them the acre of enclosure was filled with almost a hundred bodies. Were they all like this? Had they all come back? Mentally, she scanned what she had seen. On their crazed run back to the building, she’d barely had a chance to think about it, but now she looked back she could see it in her head. Almost all of the graves had been disturbed.

“Do you think it’s all of them?” Robert asked, picking her thoughts out of her head.

“I don’t know. Jesus, I hope not.”

More bodies slammed against the glass. An elderly woman; her face little more than holes with scraps of skin, her long white hair clinging to her scalp. A middle-aged man, not long dead, his face and hands bloated with gases.

They tore at the locked door, bashing their rotten fists and mouths against the glass panels, leaving smears of dirt and putrid flesh. The doors were strong, purposefully designed to keep out intruders, and they didn’t budge under the onslaught.

Robert’s fingers wrapped around her forearm, his digits digging into her flesh. He dragged her down the corridor, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight, her neck craning backward, watching the things tear at the glass, their rotten faces pressed up against the glass.

“Come on!” Robert yelled, yanking on her arm, snatching back her attention.

On autopilot, their feet slapped against the linoleum floor as they raced down the corridor to Eleanor’s office and lab. Bursting through the door, Eleanor slammed it shut behind them and used her key card to lock it.

Panting, she pressed her back against the door. “What the fuck?” she said, staring at Robert, her eyes wide. All the blood had drained from Robert’s face, his skin as ashen as one of the corpses.

“I must be dreaming,” she said. “Please God, let me wake up. I must have fallen asleep at the slab and this is all just…”

Her thought of work sent her eyes skittering across her lab, to the mortuary table where, only thirty minutes earlier, she’d been working on a corpse.

The silver surface lay empty.

“Where the hell is Janet?” she blurted.

Robert spun around, “Who?”

“The woman I was working on when you came in to tell me about the disturbances. She’s gone.”

His eyes focused on the empty table and widened as the implication of her words sank in. “Holy shit! Where is she?”

Both the office and the lab only held the two doctors. Where ever the corpse was, it wasn’t in the room with them.

“You know what this means. Assuming someone hasn’t moved her—which from the scene outside is fairly likely—then she…”

“Has moved herself,” Eleanor finished.

“What do we do? The same thing might have happened to all of the cadavers. This place might be riddled with them.”

“We need to lock ourselves in here and hope whatever is going on out there will end.”

“No,” said Robert, shaking his head. “We’re blind in here. We need to get to the security office. They’ve got cameras all over this place. At least then we’ll know what we’re up against.”

“So we need to go back out there?”

“Only to the security office. It’s three corridors down. We can make it”

“Oh, God,” she said, nausea washing over her. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. Can’t we just hide in here and wait for someone to come and rescue us.”

“Yeah?” he said. “And what if no one is coming?”

They stared at each other.

“Okay,” she relented. “Let’s do it.”

Using her key card once again, Eleanor opened the door. Cautiously, she poked her head out into the corridor. All was quiet. There was no sign of any bodies.

Light-footed, the doctors ran down the corridor. Every muscle was tensed for attack, but none came. The silence around them was almost too quiet, as though something were waiting.

Where are all the dead bodies, Eleanor thought. There were at least two in the building; no doubt more had been stored overnight in the mortuary. What were they doing? Grouping? Trying to figure out a way to let the others in?

“I don’t like this,” she hissed. “It’s too quiet.”

They reached the office booth. Glass windows were embedded either side of a black door. A silver panel with touch buttons allowed access to those who had both the key and the code.

Inside, the two security men huddled together. An older man, Jimmy, had his arms around a younger guy in his early twenties, Kyle. Kyle’s dyed black hair stuck up from his head as he peered at them through the glass.

Robert yanked on the handle but the door didn’t budge. The two men stared at him, bug-eyed, clinging to each other.

“Hey!” Robert smacked his palms on the window. “Let us in!”

“How do we know you’re not contaminated?” Jimmy shouted at them, his voice sounding muffled through the barrier. “You’ve been out there with them, we saw you.”

“Jesus, don’t be so ridiculous. We’re fine. We need to find out what’s going on. We’re the scientists. If anyone is going to figure this thing out, it’s us.”

“No way!” yelled Kyle. “You could have those things out there with you.”

“Let us in, you assholes!” Eleanor beat her fists against the solid door. The possibility of attack lurked at her back, knowing there were bodies still missing in the building, that they could come racing down the corridor at any minute. “You want to die in there like trapped rats, or do you want to do something about this whole shit heap?”

The two men glanced at each other. “Okay, do it,” said Jimmy.

Kyle stepped forward and disappeared from view as he swiped his security card. On the outside of the door, the red light flashed green and the two scientists imploded through the door, slamming it shut behind them.

“We need to get hold of someone—the police, the military,” said Robert.

“We’ve already tried,” said Jimmy. “It’s just an automated answering service.”

Eleanor turned on him, her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? Who did you try?”

Kyle answered in a rush, “Everyone. We tried every number we have. No one is answering”

“That’s not possible.”

“It is,” said Jimmy, handing her the phone. “Try for yourself.”

Eleanor’s gaze flicked to Robert, who nodded in encouragement. With her heart in her throat, she dialed 911. Robert leaned in close to hear.

‘I’m sorry, but your call cannot be taken. We advise you to stay in your homes at this time and keep all of your doors and windows locked. Help will be with you shortly.’

She hung up. “What the hell sort of emergency response is that!”

Robert was pale-faced. “It’s not just here. Whatever has happened to our dead has happen on the outside as well.”

“So what are you saying? “ Jimmy said. “That we’re stuck here? That no one is going to help us?”

“It sure sounds like it,” she said.

Numerous small security monitors made up most of the back wall behind them. In synchronization, they all turned, their eyes trained on the screens.

On each one, the dead ran at speed—no shuffling gait of rigor-mortis ridden corpses—they had purpose. Numerous corpses, in various states of decomposition, with clothing hanging in tatters from their limbs, ran. Flesh peeled like old paint from their bones. Yet none stumbled or limped. Whatever state the bodies were in, they moved with the unnerving grace and speed of an athlete.

In every small square of the monitors, the dead ran toward them, toward the cameras.

“They’re all coming to the building,” Eleanor said. “They know we’re in here.”

“Shut up, that’s crazy,” said Kyle. “How can they possibly know we’re here?”

“A couple of the others saw us,” said Eleanor. “Maybe they have a way of communicating with each other.”

Robert shook his head, “This whole thing is crazy.”

                       

“This is your fault!” Kyle yelled, his face drawn, dark circles beneath his boggling eyes. “If you hadn’t come in here, we’d be safe!”

 “So what,” Robert said, rounding on him. “You’d just hide out here and hope they went away?”

“At least they wouldn’t know anyone was in here.”

“Shut up, Kyle,” said Jimmy. “This isn’t their fault.”

“No?” he counter argued. “How do we know it wasn’t some freaky experiment these scientists have been carrying out that have made this happen?”

“Jesus, Kyle,” said Eleanor. “We study decomposition, we study insect life. How the hell could we make something like this happen?”

“How should I know? You’re the ones with your big fancy educations, looking down on the rest of us.”

Robert put out a hand. “This isn’t helping anyone. Kyle, believe me, if we understood anything that was happening here, we would say so.”

Eleanor pulled herself together and tapped one of the screens. “We need to pull ourselves together and think about this rationally. We know they’re outside and they want in. But what’s happened to the bodies in the building? The one I was working on was missing and I’d bet any money that yours is as well, Robert.” She turned to Jimmy. “Can you pull up the internal cameras?”

“Sure,” he said, flicking a switch.

Images of empty corridors and rooms filled the screens.

“Where are you, you fuckers,” Eleanor said under her breath.

Around them, the lights flickered and all of them glanced up.

“Why doesn’t that fill me with confidence,” said Robert.

“Keep going,” Eleanor said, making a winding motion with two fingers, “There’s got to be places we’re not seeing.”

“There are blind spots in the building,” said Jimmy. “But the corpses wouldn’t know that.”

“It’s not like they’re hiding. We’ll find them.”

“There!” Robert said, poking his finger at one of the screens.

A body, tall and hunched with a head of grey hair, shuffled across the screen, a mop held in one hand, a silver industrial bucket in the other.

Eleanor frowned, leaning in closer. “What the hell…”

“That guy’s not dead,” said Robert.

“No,” said Jimmy. “That’s Lenny, the janitor.”

“Shit!” swore Eleanor.  “I never thought other people might be in here. He’s just carrying on like normal. Doesn’t he know what’s going on?”

Jimmy gave a shrug. “Why would he? He’s down in the basement. He hasn’t been outside and he sure as hell doesn’t have any cameras.”

“We need to contact him!” Eleanor said, panic rising her tone. “Warn him! Those things might be down there with him and he’s got no idea. God knows what they’d do to him.”

 “Which corridor is this?” Robert squinted at the screen. “Look!” he tapped at the right hand corner. “Correct me if I’m wrong but that looks like a phone.”

Eleanor leaned in. The distinctive rectangular shape of one of the center’s phones was attached to the wall near the figure.

“He’s right,” she said, turning her head to Jimmy. “Can we locate it and call?”

“Of course.” Jimmy pulled his seat toward him and sank down. His fingers tapped the keyboard of the computer. He picked up the phone and dialed an extension number, then handed the receiver to Eleanor.

On camera, Lenny’s head jerked toward the direction of the phone and he stopped his mopping. He shook his head and went back to his work.

“Pick up the phone Lenny, damn it!” Eleanor willed. But Lenny made no motion to go to the ringing phone so she hung up and tried again.

This time he threw down the mop and stalked up to the phone.

“Yes?” his gruff voice came down the receiver.

“Lenny, my name is Eleanor Armitage, I’m one of the scientists here. I need you to come up to security right away.” She saw the alarm on his face as he stared up at the nearest camera. “You’re not in any trouble, but something has happened and I…”

His head swung away, his attention snatched away by something they couldn’t see.

Suddenly, the bodies rushed him.

Even on the black and white, low resolution screen, Eleanor recognized Janet. Her mouth stretched wide open, and though she couldn’t hear the ear-piercing shriek emitted from her throat, she could tell both from the open maw and the expression on Lenny’s face that the scream was the same as she’d heard outside.

Janet hit Lenny with force, his arms pin-wheeling as he tried to keep his balance. From off screen, another body raced at him.

Teeth sank into his neck, ripping away a chunk of flesh. Blood poured down his chest, a dark apron on the screen.

In the security booth, four people watched the silent movie in mesmerized horror.

Like frenzied animals, they clawed Lenny apart, biting, tearing, ravaging. Dark splatters of blood hit the freshly mopped floor, strips of flesh dangling from his bones.

Lenny slumped to the floor, no longer recognizable as something that had once been human. The things surrounding him stood, straightening up, surveying the destruction and fully in control.

“How long?” Eleanor whispered.

Robert turned to her, “Until what?”

“Until Lenny joins them…”

~*~

The Body Farm will continue 9/8/2011

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Marissa Farrar

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Copyright © 2011 Marissa Farrar. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.