“What? Of course there is. There’s a door marked fire escape over there.”
“It’s locked. I know it shouldn’t be, but I don’t like the thought of leaving the kitchen unsecured during the night, so I always lock it once the cooks go home.”
She shook her head and cursed. “Great idea. So how on earth do we get out of this bloody kitchen?”
Shawcross looked over his shoulder towards the other end of the kitchen. “The only way out,” he said, “is to go back through the house.”
Before Annaliese had time to reply, a scream echoed through the kitchen.
Chapter Fourteen
The screams came from Kimberly, the woman who had let Annaliese inside the kitchen. The woman’s misty blue eyes were now stretched wide as she fought desperately with Bradley. He had her up against the wall and was fighting to get at her with his chomping teeth. Slobber fell from his mouth and plastered his chin. His eyes were bleeding.
Shawcross was right. Bradley is one of them.
No one in the room was helping Kimberly. They all stood back, frozen in fear.
Annaliese ran over and shouted at Bradley to stop, but it was no good. He wasn’t listening anymore, and Kimberly was weakening. She needed help.
But it was too late.
Bradley slipped free of Kimberly’s grasp, swatting aside her arms with ease. Like a starving animal, he sunk his teeth into her windpipe, cutting dead her screams and reducing them to a pained gargle. A gout of blood expelled from between her lips and her eyes flickered, as if trying to comprehend what they were seeing. The others still stood by and did nothing.
Why is nobody helping her?
“I told you,” Shawcross shouted. “I told you this would happen, but you wouldn’t listen.”
Annaliese fought against a growing lump in her throat. She spluttered as she spoke. “I-I’m sorry.”
Shawcross still held the meat tenderiser in his hand. He rushed up to Bradley with it raised over his head. He swung the wooden mallet in a wild arc.
The first blow opened a wide divot in Bradley’s skull, but it didn’t stop him from chewing on Kimberly’s neck. The second blow dropped him like a switch had been flipped in his brain. His legs folded and he hit the floor in a crumpled heap.
Kimberly looked at Shawcross like he was her saviour. She even managed to smile amid the thick, dark blood that spilled from between her lips. Shawcross smiled back at her, almost pityingly.
Then he smashed the mallet into the side of her skull, cracking open her temple and sending her to the floor.
Annaliese threw up on the tiles. The sight of Shawcross bludgeoning Bradley, and then that innocent woman to death was the final straw. She should have been shocked, but somehow she knew he was just doing what was necessary. Kimberly had been infected the moment Bradley had bitten her. There was no place for mercy. If Annaliese had understood that earlier, perhaps Kimberly would still be alive.
“S-she let me inside,” Annaliese spluttered. “She saved me and now she’s dead.”
Shawcross stared at her with bulging eyes. Blood spattered his face and streaked his ginger hair. With the mallet in his hand he looked like some kind of Scandinavian berserker. “I told you this would happen, but I let you have your own way. I should have dealt with Bradley the moment you brought him in. A woman is now dead because of my mistake.”
Annaliese shook her head. “This wasn’t your fault.”
“No,” he said, thrusting the bloody meat tenderiser in her face. “You’re right. It’s your fault.”
Annaliese looked down at Kimberly and Bradley. Was it really her fault that this had happened? Was a kindly, courageous woman dead because of her?
“I want to get out of here,” somebody said. “I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t get some air.”