Free Remains of the Dead by Iain McKinnon Page A

in.
    “This is bad,” Ali said as he stumbled to his feet.
    He craned his neck up as if offering his throat to the zombies, and then jumped into the air. With the extra few inches height the pogo afforded him, he could see the doorway into the apartment block just metres away.
    With their customary moans, the zombies pressed in.
    Ali lowered his head and charged. Barging his way past the gathering zombies like a running back, he knocked them flying. With a few pounding steps Ali successfully ploughed his way through the crowd.
    Like most of the buildings near the warehouse, this one had been looted by the survivors. He knew that the door would have been prised open and easy to get into.
    Throwing the last cadaver out of his path, Ali used his momentum to shoulder the dark blue door open. The lock had indeed been jimmied and it flew open with unexpected ease. The door clattered against the entrance wall and swung back. Ali skidded across the slime coated floor and, thrown off kilter, he flailed his arms desperately trying to retain his balance. With no purchase underfoot and too much forward momentum, Ali’s feet slid from under him and he toppled over.
    His knees buckled and he came crashing to the floor, smacking his head against the first step. As the pain from the strike found him so did the returning door. The metal runner on the leading edge slashed down his leg, scoring deep into his shin. The pain burnt out his vision, leaving him blinded in agony.
    A scream burst from his lips as the pain boiled out of him. Like a rallying call, the zombies gurgled back their own tainted response. The light from outside was devoured as the first wave of ragged assailants stumbled for the door. Forced by the mob behind, the lead zombie lost its footing to the pressure and fell. Unlike a living human being, the creature never tore its gaze away from Ali as it fell. It hit the ground chin first, splitting the rotting flesh from the bone. The creature fell just short of Ali. Unconcerned by its injuries it immediately thrust out with its gnarled arms to seize it prey.
    With a primordial scream Ali lashed out with his good leg, battering the zombie away. He backpedalled, kicking as he went scrambling on his backside up the stairs.
    The light from the street outside was rapidly disappearing as the zombies crowded in on the doorway. The zombie that Ali had just battered away was proving an effective, if temporary, barrier. The undead fighting their way in were tripping over themselves, their necrotic brains unable to compensate for the hazards underfoot and the shoves from behind. Once down, their withered limbs proved too weak to pull themselves free of the growing stack.
    Still facing the pileup of dead flesh, Ali eased himself up using the handrail on the stairs. The gash in his leg was bleeding. Thick rivulets of blood trickled down his ankle and pooled amongst the slime on the floor.
    In the close confinement of the hallway the moans of the dead reverberated off the hard walls. The discordant cacophony clawed at Ali’s ears. It was the same chorus of desperation that had surrounded the warehouse but here the walls weren’t muffling the sound. Here the walls were containing them, amplifying them, making the noise infinitely more disturbing.
    Holding onto the handrail, Ali hobbled up the steps. As he turned on the first landing he looked back at the heap of bodies in the hallway. A pair of zombies had untangled themselves from the pile and was making a painful crawl towards the stairs. They would take a while to get themselves upright and shamble after him. He had a few seconds to think, time to find somewhere defendable and work out a strategy.
    He looked around the stairwell desperately trying to recall when last he was here. Did he remember the layout? Was there another exit? The noise from the dead driving into the building flustered him. He couldn’t think. But he had to act.
    Hands supporting his weight on the banisters, he