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  “Where- the fuck- are you?” she screamed at her tormentor, spinning around on the spot, expecting the creature to appear from somewhere, out of the blue.

  Apparently in response, the carnifex issued another ghastly rasp. The noise emitted was similar to the sound of steam escaping from a cracked pipe. Still, the beast refused to materialize, and Lex’s ears failed to give her an approximate location. The young woman’s palms were sweaty, so much so that she had to constantly reassert her grip on her MP-5. In fact, Lex was terrified she was going to drop the gun, because her hands were so slick with sweat.

  Up ahead, Lex spotted a set of double doors. Panicking, she broke into a run, bolting for them. Suddenly, something slammed into her from behind. Lex felt as if she had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler. In that instant, it was as if every bone in her body was jolted, her brain capturing all this painful information before she even struck the floor. Hitting the ground, Lex felt a sharp pain run up the side of her skull as she hit her head, even before she registered the loud thud! that signalled her impact. The carnifex was on top of her, shrieking like some hellish spectre risen from the grave. Likewise, Lex was kicking and screaming like a woman possessed, weapon trapped underneath her. The enraged marsupial was fighting- just as hard- to maintain its grip on the struggling woman, manoeuvring so that it might deliver a killing blow, the look in its eyes feverish, and hungry.

  Tilting its head on an angle, the carnifex arched its stubby jaws open, incisors slick with salivate. Yawning wide, the marsupial lion prepared to clamp its maw shut around the young woman’s exposed neck. Making to bite down, the animal shifted its weight, repositioning itself. This gave Lex the opportunity she needed. Letting fly with a wild elbow, Lex connected with the predator’s lower mandible. Yelping, the surprised beast rolled off of her, turning over into a guarded position, limbs spread wide, talons flexed and ready. Simultaneously scrambling into a sitting position, Lex grabbed at her MP-5. Holding the weapon one-handed, she squeezed the trigger, spraying a quick burst at the carnifex. Bullets sparked and ricocheted as the marsupial scuttled away, fleeing through a door to Lex’s left. The animal’s claws skittered along the smooth floor, as it failed to gain a sufficient degree of traction. Lex couldn’t be sure, but she thought she might have hit it. At one point, Lex thought she heard the carnifex yelp like a kicked dog. Then again, maybe it was just afraid.

  Despite her laboured breathing, and the overall exertion of her ordeal, Lex didn’t wait around. Getting to her feet, she bolted. Just as she was about to reach the exit, she heard the bark of gunfire, coming from somewhere up above.

  Brett?

  Passing through the doorway, Lex pushed with all she had against the heavy doorframe, sending it in a wide sweeping arc. Next, she made for the stairwell, determined to find Brett. If Lex had bothered to look back, she might have spied a single clawed digit curve around the doorframe behind her, stopping it from closing over. The male carnifex wasn’t finished with her, yet.

  13.

  Young Conn side-stepped down the stairwell, one foot treading carefully in front of the other as he went. Aiming for the basement below, he swept his AR-15 left and right, trying to cover all of his angles, just waiting for something to jump out at him. Already, Conn had a feeling something wasn’t right down here. There was light, for one thing. Whereas, the rest of the hospital’s power was blacked out, the basement was lit up. At least, it looked that way from where he was standing.

  As Conn reached the doorway at the bottom of the staircase, leading as it did into the basement proper, he could see light seeping out through the viewing window cut into the doorframe. This revelation didn’t make any sense. Conn paused at the doorway, peeping through the thin porthole, his olive features illuminated. Try as he might, he couldn’t spot any signs of movement. His heart fluttering with a sense of foreboding, Conn passed through the threshold to meet whatever destiny awaited him, thinking only of saving little Anthony.

  Entering the basement, Conn’s ears immediately alerted him to an odd thrumming noise. It was soft at that point, suggesting that it was coming from somewhere deeper inside the basement. Looking about, he noted the walls around him were a dull yellow colour, tinged with brown stains; the result of damp he supposed. Conn craned his neck, looking up at the ceiling. Lightbulbs- all of them working- were positioned at intervals, lighting up the way for him like an inverted runway of sorts. Furthermore, thick nests of piping lined the roof, wending around the light fixtures in sections. From the size of them, Conn assumed they were water-pipes. Other than these features, the basement was rather bare. It had an empty, dead feel to it, somewhat like a graveyard.

  Conn continued further into the hospital’s sublevel, venturing into one corridor after another. Moving deeper into the building’s bowels, the strange thrumming sound grew louder, increasing in intensity. Within a few moments, its pitch reached a crescendo. It was then Conn spotted the outline of a door, slightly ajar to his left. Sliding up alongside the doorway, Conn tried to sneak a peek through the gap. The room beyond was darker; most definitely not as well-lit as the hallways he had just passed through. Creeping through the entryway, Conn found himself at the top of a slightly rusted, metal-framed, spiral staircase. The air inside the room was heavy, and had a humid, muggy feel to it. Conn quickly realized it was the hospital’s boiler room.

  Since entering the darkened space, the reverberations that had attracted his attention in the first place, grew significantly louder. Sweeping down the spiral set of stairs, Conn moved into the boiler room, gun up and scanning the dusky environment, eyes squinting as he peered into the shadows, praying something wasn’t about to lunge out at him. Gliding past a series of chain-link partitions, Conn moved to the back of the long room, towards the apparent origin of the rumbling racket. There, towards the rear of the boiler room, a putrid scent wafted about, hanging in the air. With each step, it grew stronger, Conn fighting to keep his stomach lining in place.

  Now he came to a pale, brick partition, running almost the entire width of the boiler room. Save for a small gap- presumably an entrance of sorts- the brick wall almost gave the impression that the boiler room ended there. Sweat rolling down his forehead, pouring over his nose and cheeks, Conn squeezed through the slim gap. It was just wide enough for him, although his Kevlar vest and cumbersome duffel bags definitely made it more difficult than it should have been.

  What he found beyond the wall made him retch. It took Conn everything he had to keep his stomach contents in place.

  At first, when he eyed the desert-coloured work-boots, Conn had expected to find a whole body. Instead, he found only a waist, legs, and feet, inside what was left of a pair of dark blue overalls. The torso now missing, had been severed at the waist, separating it from the rest of the body. Shrivelled tubular entrails spilled onto the floor from the horrific wound, framed by a patch of dried, browning blood. Based purely on the presence of the overalls, Conn assumed the individual had been some kind of maintenance worker. What’s more, it appeared as if the person had been living down in the basement. The noise inside the little alcove was near-deafening.

  How could someone live, let alone sleep, down here?

  To Conn’s left, a few feet away was the source of the horrendous clamour. From the look of it, it was a fuel-fed generator, although he couldn’t see any jerry cans. Perhaps they had run out. The machine reminded Conn of a car engine- no, a truck engine, rather. At its front, was a fanbelt, connected to a trio of cog-like discs, spinning and turning over, all set against a weaving collection of pipes and cylinders, with some valves and pressure gauges for good measure. It was much like the generators used to power certain services back at Havenfort. Although the generators were generally only used in emergencies, as Havenfort relied on solar power for most of its utilities. This discovery, Conn decided, explained the source of the lighting throughout the basement.

  What else could it be?

  Looking behind the pair of discarded legs, Conn noticed
a thin mattress and some opened cans of food (peaches and the like) alongside bottles of water. There was also a long wooden table, with a desk lamp. Next to the lamp, stacked high was a series of multi-coloured packets… pills. Rushing forward with a thinly-veiled sense of excitement, skipping over the pair of legs, Conn began grabbing at the packets, throwing them into his duffel bag. In less than a minute, Conn had absconded with- what he assumed was- the dead person’s stockpile.

  He- or she- won’t need them anymore. Conn told himself, attempting to justify his actions.

  Deciding there was nothing else of any use here for him, Conn left the alcove and the leg-corpse behind. He quickly crossed to the opposite end of the boiler room, traversing the spiral staircase, two steps at a time, eager to get out of there. The dank room, body and all, was giving him the creeps. Breaking back out into the corridor, Conn moved on. As he turned, intending to go back the way he had come, Conn halted as he heard a soft bang. It sounded like metal on metal, coming from somewhere further down the corridor, deeper inside the basement.

  “God damn it!” he cursed, in a hushed tone. “What now?”

  Moving further into the subterranean maze, Conn followed the sound trying to locate its source. A short time later, he found a dark blue sign, hanging from the roof. Moving closer, Conn saw that it signalled towards a set of double-doors. Etched into the sign, was a single line of faded white lettering, albeit partially obscured by the dull light. It read:

  MORGUE →

  “Please don’t be zombies.” Conn prayed. “Please don’t be zombies.”

  It wasn’t zombies. It was much worse, actually.

  Finding one of the doors already propped open, kept in place by a wall-mounted magnet, Conn peered into the morgue. Set into the roof was a series of square-shaped lights, one of them flickering incessantly, its starter presumably failing. Amidst the flashes, located across the back wall, was lined a series of front-loading fridges for storing corpses; eight columns in four rows. Very few of the fridge doors were still closed, most in fact hung wide-open. Over to the left, nestled in a darkened corner, a large shape moved about. Its long, scaled, tapering tail emerged seamlessly from out of the gloom. The whipping appendage swaying backwards and forwards as it worked away, doing whatever it was doing. Naked bodies were strewn across the floor, men and women alike, some of them lying on top of one another, others with bloody wounds dug deep into their decaying flesh.

  Bite wounds…

  Conn’s stomach dropped. He started backing out of the morgue, when the butt of his rifle clipped the frame of the door. It wasn’t that loud, but it was loud enough for the creature to hear. The creature stopped what it was doing, spinning around to look at him, the rest of its body materializing from out of the shadows. It narrowed its yellow-green eyes, a look of vehemence evident in its reptilian features. The beast was looking at him as if to say, ‘what are you doing here?’ Conn forgot to breathe as he locked eyes with the dinosaur, his chest tightening.

  The young man knew exactly what the monster was. As soon he saw the characteristic curved talons, on the inside of each massive, splayed, clawed foot, he knew: Utahraptor. As it stood up, reaching its full height, Conn realized the figure before him must have been somewhere in the region of seven-feet tall. The top of its long, narrow, ridged head almost touched the roof. From nose to tail, it was in excess of twenty-feet long, barely fitting inside the room. Like a T-Rex, it was a theropod: a bipedal predator- although significantly smaller, yet it was more streamlined, like a cheetah compared to a lion. Ergo, what it lacked in brute force it made up for in speed and agility. As such, it was lightning-fast, nimble, and fleet-of-foot. The creature’s stringy, muscular hide was tan-coloured, marked with leopard-like black spots and similarly-coloured freckles, contrasted against a creamy underbelly. Starting at the base of its long skull, were a series of sharp spines- proto-feathers in fact- all of varying sizes, running the length of its back, reaching almost to the tip of its whip-like tail. The monster hissed at Conn, the noise similar to an angry snake, only magnified in the extreme. The dinosaur’s narrow jaws parted, revealing two rows of thin, stiletto-shaped teeth. Moving forward on its two powerful legs, head bobbing as it walked, similar to a chicken pecking at its feed, the massive raptor prepared to pounce.

  Conn stumbled out into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him, trying to lock the scaly beast inside. Jumping with fright Conn came face-to-face with a second raptor. The dinosaur’s emerald-yellow eyes went wide with surprise, nostrils flaring, lips curling back.

  “Holy shit!”

  14.

  The second sand-coloured raptor made for Conn immediately. With its long forelimbs outstretched, and its bowed, charcoal talons protracted, the beast grabbed at him. Working on reflex, Conn thrust out with his AR-15, jamming the assault rifle up under the dinosaur’s long chin and pulled the trigger before it got any closer. There was a shriek, albeit one which was abruptly cut out as the reptile’s head exploded in a shower of flesh, blood, brains and bone. Bits and pieces of gore flew everywhere, splattering along the walls, and over Conn’s bulletproof vest. The headless beast wavered for a second, momentarily keeping its balance on the spot, and then it slumped over, crashing down to the floor in a messy, grotesque heap, thick blood spilling from its decapitated corpse.

  All of a sudden, the double-doors to the morgue burst open, coming off their hinges, startling Conn. The original Utahraptor emerged, screeching at him like something evicted from the deepest layer of Hades. The predator eyed its fallen compatriot before rounding on Conn, its long tail flicking behind it like a cat’s, snarling and scowling at the sight of him. He raised his carbine once more, ready to fire. The big raptor was too quick for him, however. As he pressed down on the trigger, the dinosaur collided with him. Using one of its powerful, clawed forelimbs, the Utahraptor swatted the assault rifle from Conn’s hands in a kind of backhanded motion- but not before he got off a series of shots. The AR-15 ejected a succession of bullets from its magazine, the projectiles were sent upwards as the charging raptor altered the direction of the gun’s nozzle. Flashing wildly, the bullets tore into the ceiling and the pipes running along it, the raptor shrinking away from the cacophony. A shower of water exploded from several openings, punched into the thick metal pipes hanging above. Water cascaded down in torrents, over the raptor and Conn, spilling onto the floor, seeping down the corridor.

  As the liquid pooled around Conn, it seemed to goad him into action, the water soaking into the fabric of his cargo pants. He sprung to his feet, preparing to flee when at the same moment, the raptor lunged at him, claws spread wide, salivating jaws bared, eyes glinting ravenously. All in all, it was an awkward manoeuvre for the beast. The dinosaur failed to find its feet properly, amidst the lake forming around it, slipping as it tried to leap. Still, the raptor’s effort got it off the ground… albeit barely. The big brute slammed into Conn, although the blow was softened somewhat by the duffel bags he carried. The sacks got in the way of the raptor’s strike. One of the talons at the end of its feet sliced through the fabric of the shoulder straps. Both bags fell at Conn’s feet. Bending down to retrieve them, the Utahraptor checked Conn by clumsily head-butting him out of the way. Be that as it may, as awkward as the movement was, it was like being hit by a heavyweight. The force sent the young man reeling backwards, his fingertips glancing tantalizingly across the fabric of one of the duffel bags.

  Now, the raptor was in between Conn and his loot. Like a drunk, the big reptile struggled to find its feet, slipping on the slippery surface beneath it. Conn stood up, coming face-to-face with the dinosaur. The monster looked him dead in the eye, hissing. Conn did the first thing that came to mind- he punched it square in the face, right on the end of its pointed, bony snout, just like his dad had taught him to do with bullies. The strike seemed to hurt Conn more than the raptor, however. Shaking his hand, he mouthed the word ‘ouch’, inching backwards. At the same time, appearing to stabilize itself, the raptor
shook off the strike, looking and sounding something like a snorting horse as it did so. The dinosaur eyed Conn angrily; scaly lips coiling back to reveal its yellowed, scalpel-like teeth. Conn swore he saw the spines on its neck and back rise up as it did so.

  What did I do that for? The frightened youngster asked himself incredulously.

  “Well, that was a bad idea,” Conn said out loud as the raptor let rip with an ear-piercing shriek in return. The scream seemed to shake the basement walls around him, actually hurting his inner ears.

  Conn, spinning on his heel, made to flee. His stride was uncoordinated, every step an effort just to stay upright. The raptor launched after him, slipping and falling flat on its face, forelimbs splayed out in front of it breaking its fall somewhat. Conn snatched a glance back at the dinosaur as he rounded a corner, fighting to stay upright against the slippery liquid, running like a toddler who’d filled his diaper. Roaring, the raptor pushed itself up into a standing position, taking off a moment later, bowling after its assailant. Again, Conn looked behind him, to see the enraged, desert-coloured raptor round the corner, stumbling into view. Out of control, it slid across the floor, limbs flying about everywhere like a drunken tap-dancer as it tried to find some sense of equilibrium. It was reminiscent of watching a bull in a china-shop. If it wasn’t so deadly, it might have been comical.

  The struggling reptile slammed into a wall, which actually stopped it from collapsing altogether. The dinosaur dug its claws into the plasterboard wall, managing to hold itself up this way. Then after regaining its balance and composure, it pushed off, resuming its interrupted pursuit. Conn could hear the claws at the end of its big feet skittering along the smooth surface of the floor. This section of the floor was dry, and as such the beast was having no problem finding its stride.