“Trying to flush her out. Better that than she gets the drop on us.
Sure enough, Nick’s calls were met by the sounds of someone shuffling behind the tills. A woman sprang up from inside the booth and faced them over the counter. A stringy ribbon of flesh hung from her lower teeth like a strand of rancid dental floss.
“That her?” Nick asked.
“No,” said Eve.
Nick frowned at her. “No? Then who the hell is she?”
“I have no fucking idea.”
A hungry growl spun them both around. There was an old lady in a blue frilly dress glaring at them from inside the café. Her face was pressed up against the glass as she growled at them. Apparently the café had not been so empty after all.
“That’s her,” said Eve. “That’s Mrs Curtis.”
The old woman threw herself through the partition window of the café and rose to her feet on the other side. It was like something out of The Terminator.
Now the two women flanked Nick and Eve from both sides. The lady inside the till booth leapt the counter and sprinted towards them. At the same time Mrs Curtis came at them from behind.
“Run,” Nick shouted, dropping the broom handle to the floor, realising it was useless.
Eve hurried after Nick and the two of them ran back through the garden centre’s main floor. Nick clattered into a chiminea a hundred yards on and almost tumbled to the ground. He only just managed to keep his balance and keep running. As he reached the automatic doors where he had first entered, he realised that they were not going to open. He and Eve were on the wrong side of the sensor.
“Damn it,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder at the two women clambering through the store after him.
“This way,” Eve shouted, dragging him by one of his coat cuffs. “There’s a fire exit.”
Nick followed Eve into the depths of the store. The two feral women were only a few steps behind them. The only thing keeping them back was their clumsiness. They bashed and stumbled into the various displays like drunks in a marathon.
Up ahead, Eve skidded to a halt. Nick almost went right into the back of her.
“What the hell are you doing?” he said. “Keep moving.”
“Look,” she said, pointing.
Nick looked to his right, towards the aquarium, and could not believe what he saw. Mr Curtis was back on his feet. His neck wound was so deep that his head hung unnaturally to one side. He was slower now, stumbling along like a new-born calf, and moaning hungrily.
Nick shook his head. “There’s no way he could still be alive.”
“I don’t think he is,” said Eve.
Nick didn’t have time to ask what she meant by that, because Mrs Curtis came crashing through a display of garden shovels, sending them clattering to the ground. Eve got moving. A split-second later, so did he.
At the far end of the garden centre was a heavy glass door with a green FIRE EXIT sign flickering above it. Eve threw herself against the push-bar and shoved the door open, stumbling out into the car park. Nick leapt through right after her. They quickly put their backs against the other side of the door to shove it closed. It was slow progress, though; the fire door built to move slowly to prevent causing drafts.
Come on, come on. Close goddamnit!
Two inches before the door was shut, both Mrs Curtis and the other woman threw themselves against the other side. A struggle ensued and Nick and Eve fought back against the unexpected strength of their pursuers.
“How are they so strong?” asked Eve. “Mrs Curtis is almost eighty.”
“I don’t know,” Nick said. “But we need to get this door closed, right now. Look!”
In the parking lot a bleeding man stumbled in their direction. His head craned like a bird when he spotted them and he let out a moan. Nick was grateful the guy wasn’t a sprinter like the two women inside, or else they would already be done for.