Free The Regulators - 02 by Michael Clary

control. I wanted to shake the lead out of my limbs. My legs felt as
though I had just run a marathon.
    I didn’t get my wish.
    I heard the pounding in the distance. It didn’t sound very
far away. I grabbed the kid by the arm and pulled him along behind me. I
stopped in the bar just long enough to grab the two trash bags of food, but I
left the pillowcases behind.
    I couldn’t lead the kid anymore; my hands were full. My left
hand gripped the ends of the two trash bags, and my right hand carried one of
the bar stool legs. I passed the second bar stool leg over to Jason and told
him to keep right behind me.
    I still heard the pounding. It was coming from outside. It
was louder now and more frantic. I was pretty sure it was coming from an area
of large windows. At least, it sounded like a bunch of fists pounding on glass.
I had seen that area before, I just couldn’t remember when. Still, it was in
the back of my mind somewhere. I think I must have seen it when I arrived at
the hotel.
    I had a vague recollection of where those windows were and
avoided them by taking a longer route back to the elevators. I wasn’t exactly
sure where we were going, but I figured that it was best to stay away from any
windows.
    Eventually, we passed some offices and I felt Jason tug at
my shirt.
    “My Mom’s in there,” he said.
    Acidic fear dripped into my stomach.
    “Is your Mom still alive?”
    “She was trying to find a phone or a computer,” he answered
with a confused look on his face.
    I realized that Jason probably didn’t understand that it was
his father’s corpse that attacked us. In his eyes, if his father was walking
around and making noise, he must have been alive. There was also the
possibility that his parents kept the truth about what was happening out there
from him in order to keep him from panicking. The poor kid was shaking
violently. It was a miracle that he hadn’t run away from me screaming after he
saw me beat on his father. Still, he didn’t look very well, and I briefly
wondered if he was going into shock.
    “Is your Mom angry like your Dad?”
    “No, she was really scared.”
    That sounded much better, but I wasn’t going to take any
chances. I had my bar stool leg held high and ready. I went into the small
waiting room of the main office. The stench rose up like a fist once again and
punched my face. It was awful. I found myself fighting to control my gag
reflex.
    When I calmed down somewhat, I dropped my trash bags and
motioned for Jason to hide behind a desk. I didn’t want anything eating him
while I checked out the closed door just beyond the waiting room.
    I tightened my grip on my weapon as I tested the door knob.
I turned easily and quietly. The smell was worse beyond the door. It was
creeping out from under the space between the door and the floor.
    The floor.
    I don’t know why I missed it when I walked into the room,
but there was a nasty slime trail as if something oozing came into this office
and then closed the door behind it.
    Ah fuck it, I thought.
    I threw the door open in a rush and prepared to nail
whatever lurked inside. I saw nothing, but that wasn’t very shocking. The room
was pitch black. I heard a scratching noise.
    The growl came at once. It was low in volume, but that
somehow made it even creepier. I felt the chills crawling up my spine as I
fumbled for a light switch.
    Click.
    The room was instantly bathed in fluorescent lighting.
Beyond the main desk was a closet. The door had been closed on the sleeve of a
pitiful looking zombie. The beast was once a woman, but she was now missing the
lower half of her body. She even lacked the hanging entrails of Jason’s father.
    She also happened to be missing her left arm and lower jaw.
Her face was hideous. It was in an advanced stage of decay. The nose was
missing, the ears were barely nubs; still, the look in her eyes was
unmistakable. It was rage.
    It was her trapped arm making the scratching noise on the
door as her fingers