Fever (Flu) by Wayne Simmons Page B

right.”
    “But you need to come with me. I can’t do this on my own.”
    Blake looked at the glass pane on the door. He recoiled as one of the dead sniffed, cleared its throat. “I-I can’t...”
    “You have to , Blake,” Ellis pressed.
    She kissed him, pulled him close. His body was frail against hers. Like the body of an old man.
    “Please,” she whispered into his ear, “I need you...”
    He moved away from her, rummaged through a nearby set of drawers, pulled out a USB memory stick. “This is everything. The memos, the induction notes. Anything they’ve given me, it’s all on here.”
    “Blake, I—”
    “Take it,” he said.
    “You’re coming with me.”
    “I’m not. I can’t. I’m too weak.”
    “I can help you, I’ll—”
    “Ellie, I’m infected.”
    She stepped away from him.
    “No, Blake.”
    “Yes. There’s no hope for me. So go. Go now while you still can.”
    Her eyes were stinging. Had she any more tears left, they would have come. Instead Ellis stood dry and empty before him. “Blake, I...”
    The words failed her, but he understood.
    “It’s okay,” he said, smiling. “I know. But you have to go.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
    It made sense, what Blake was saying. With the flu virus raging through them, blocking their sinuses, the dead should have limited sensory perception.
    But blind ?
    She recalled Jenkins, by the door to E21, seeming to stare through the glass into the white of her eyes...
    A cold sweat ran down her spine.
    There were a lot of them around now.
    She knew they were drawn to light. Shining a torch full beam hadn’t been the best idea in the world, when she thought about it. Yet Ellis would feel very vulnerable without some access to light. So she kept the torch with her, tucked away for now.
    Ellis figured the safest way to get around in complete darkness was to half-walk-half-crawl. She used her hands to map her way, feeling along the floor, along the wall, listening for the heavy footsteps of the dead.
    She’d managed half the corridor when her hands collided with something.
    Ellis stopped, remained still for a second. Her breathing sounded so loud to her that she was sure she’d be heard, even if they were mostly deaf.
    She ran her hands over the object, realising it was a dead body. Its flesh was cold and clammy to touch. She felt a gunshot wound on its head. It must have been one that Abe had killed on his way through. Ellis groped her way around it, moving past, all the while worrying it might reach out and grab her leg.
    She pushed through a set of double doors into another corridor.
    She felt her way along like before, avoiding the shuffling dead she encountered. She reached the end of this corridor, realising that the next would be the main throughway to A Block, back where she had started.
    She pushed through another set of doors, immediately hearing the swell of shuffling and grunting noises ahead. It seemed the dead travelled in packs, like a herd of sheep. They were gathered along the end of the corridor, circling the security door Abe had most likely left through. It was the door Ellis needed too, in order to get back into A Block.
    She made her approach carefully. Curled against a nearby wall and listened intently.
    Ellis noticed a leg hanging out across the exit, wedging the security door ajar: it belonged to one of the dead. The gap created was just enough for her snakelike body to slide through.
    She stayed low. Crawling more than walking. Slowly and quietly, Ellis edged her arms and torso through the exit, climbing over the felled body.
    She went to pull her legs through, but the body suddenly stirred, grabbing her ankle. Ellis kicked out hard, freeing her leg and pounding the dead thing’s head, sending it back into the other corridor.
    She fell back against the door.
    The pack of dead were drawn to the commotion. She could feel the weight of their charge upon her back, spurred on by the promise of her flesh. The gap was too narrow for them, but