Blood at the Premiere: A Day One Undead Adventure by RR Haywood Page B

for the doors.’
    ‘Behind you.’
    ‘Not that door, Bennie. The doors to the cellar.’
    ‘Not working,’ Dolan spits out. ‘They aren’t working…the phones are not working. We’ll have to sit it out. Can you lock that door, Henrietta?’
    ‘Lock’s on the other side. Shit, no cellar. Where do they store the barrels then?’
    ‘Oh the barrels are under the bar,’ Bennie says. ‘Saw ’em on the way in here.’
    ‘Right,’ Henrietta says, biting down the rebuke.
    ‘Oh god.’ Dolan sinks against the wall holding a phone in each hand. ‘What’s going on? Is it terrorists? Why are they going for us? Doesn’t make any sense. Here? A few old film stars and a ropey glamour model? Publicity, must be for the publicity. Take down the British film and television industry and score big points. Damn it! That’s why the phones are down. The police have jammed the networks so the attackers can’t communicate. They did that in the London riots. Don’t they know who is here? Why aren’t they here yet? The police should be here now protecting us.’
    ‘Zombies, mate,’ Bennie says, trying to unscrew the lid from a bottle of vodka without Henrietta seeing.
    ‘Put that down, Bennie,’ Henrietta says, needing him to stay sober to stay alive.
    ‘What?’ Dolan asks with a sneer. ‘How much cocaine have you done?’
    ‘Oh loads,’ Bennie admits honestly.
    ‘Idiot,’ Dolan tuts. ‘We have to just stay quiet until the police get here.’
    ‘If it’s zombies then the police ain’t coming,’ Bennie says, now trying to unscrew the lid with the bottle hidden behind his back.
    ‘Young man, if you cannot be sensible then I suggest you shut up. This is a serious, life-threatening situation.’
    ‘Yeah.’ Bennie nods. ‘S’what I said. Zombies.’
    ‘It’s not bloody zombies, you idiot.’
    ‘Well they were eating each other and that’s what zombies do…so it’s zombies…’
    ‘They were not eating each other.’
    ‘Actually,’ Henrietta says, looking at Dolan.
    ‘Biting yes, but not eating…and I don’t know if they were biting
or
eating…’
    ‘They were,’ Henrietta and Bennie say at the same time.
    ‘No. People always do this in the point of crisis. They become delusional with shock. We did a documentary on it. We do not know what we saw. All we know is that we are under attack from terrorists.’
    Henrietta thinks to reply and explain what she saw outside, but that would mean contradicting Dolan, which is not the way to forge a new career.
    ‘Dolan’s right,’ she says. ‘Until we are in full receipt of all the facts we cannot say for certain what this actually is.’
    ‘Yes. Which is why we have to stay here until the police arrive,’ Dolan adds.
    Henrietta nods and turns away to face the door while thinking of what happened outside. The man was already bleeding when he was run over and no normal person could get back on their feet after being run over like that. But he did, and not only that but he was attacking the bouncers. He bit Tommy first then Rob and both of them went down clutching their stomachs and the other bouncers said they were dead. Then
they
got back up, too, then Knobby and Kev did the same and that man that was run over was still crawling across the pavement. The replay in her mind focuses on the injuries given with each one. Tommy bit on the finger. Rob bit on the head. Knobby and Kev bit on the legs. She turns round slowly to look at Bennie whose eyes go wide at being caught drinking from the bottle of vodka. Terrorists. She looks at Dolan. Zombies. She looks back at Bennie. Terrorists or zombies. Serious intellectual journalism against a coke-addled young rock singer. She goes to the door and gently pushes the handle down and cracks it open an inch to peer through.
    ‘Henrietta,’ Dolan whispers urgently. ‘What are you doing? Close that bloody door.’
    ‘Checking for the police,’ Henrietta whispers while craning her head to gain a decent angle. Bodies