Chapter 2
Frank was running across the underground concourse, weaving over the charred bodies, victims of some kind of fire. Their dark shapes seemed to melt into the polished marble floor and the inky black liquid congealed around his feet, making it more and more difficult to run. His pursuer’s heavy breathing was close behind, yet he dared not look.
The lift service hatch was just ahead, yellow and black stripes beckoning - his escape route clearly marked. And now, worse still, the arms of the dead, constrained by the dark liquid, seemed to move and reach for him, their bony blackened hands gripping at his legs and feet. Frank’s heart pumped hard in his chest and it was difficult to breathe as if air was been sucked right out of his lungs.
To his horror, the service door began to slo
