I had been depressed since my wife left me.
I worked remotely and after logging off for the day, sat staring at the television. I lived off junk food and stopped showering.
Time drifted.
One weekend morning, I dragged myself out of bed late, and looked around listlessly at the dirty clothes strewn across the floor. The remains of my midnight snacks were scattered among them.
It was disgusting, but I didn’t care. I leant over to find something to put on and saw a rustle of movement among the mess.
It was a rat and it was looking right at me.
I swore and stumbled backwards. My feet got tangled in clothes and I fell.
The rat just watched me freaking out then ambled away as if it hadn’t a care in the world.
I sat there, my heart beating way too fast, and decided that things had to change.
I was like a man possessed. I cleaned myself and the apartment from top to bottom. I filled two dozen refuse sacks.
Now I’d snapped out of my funk, I could not believe how disgusting I had let things get.
Feeling a lot better already, I left the apartment and went to the wholefood store and stocked up on ingredients for healthy meals.
After a bowl of organic porridge, I turned on my laptop.
While I was on a roll, the next thing I wanted to do was meet someone.
I typed in a search for ‘Online Dating’.
After sifting out the sites that struck me as dubious because they immediately wanted my credit card details, and other, frankly seedy websites, I made a start by filling in my personal details on one of the genuine portals for singles like me.
This was simple enough at first. In some ways it wasn’t that different to applying for a job.
When it came to interests, I had to embellish things a bit.
My hobbies had been eating junk while staring blankly at the television and missing my wife, but I couldn’t enter that in the relevant boxes, so I wrote that I enjoyed ‘dining’ and ’classic movies’ instead.
These still felt a bit weak, but I could always go back and improve them, and besides this was just the first of a number of sites I was going to use to get myself back out there.
My personal profile almost completed, I clicked on ‘next’.
That’s when things went astray.
The website wanted me to upload images of myself. But the only images it would accept were ones that were already on my social media sites.
Social media was not somewhere I wanted to be. There were lots pictures of me and my ex-wife. I knew seeing any of these would open up wounds. And much worse than that, I might see what my ex-wife was doing now.
While I was wallowing, she would have been posting about her new life.
Her new love.
Feeling sick, I went to close the website without adding any images.
A pop-up message appeared, asking: Are you sure you want to leave the site? You won’t be able to find romance.
Feeling a horrible mix of anger and depression, I exited the site.
I tried another three similar sites but always reached a point where I was reminded of the past I was trying to leave behind.
Online dating was a nightmare and there was no way I could deal with it. My shoulders slumped.
The pizzerias I used to order from on a daily basis would be open. An app on my mobile could see a three-cheese stuffed crust mega meal heading my way with a couple of taps.
The thought of gorging myself was so tempting, but I knew if I succumbed it would be a bad backwards step.
I decided that was not going to happen.
I closed the laptop and for the first time in my life I went for a run.
I didn’t have any running gear to change into, I just set off in the clothes I was wearing.
I made to the end of the block before I ground to a halt, with my hands on my knees, gasping for breath.
I was fine with that. It was still a win.
Once I had caught my breath, I decided to go for a leisurely stroll rather than heading straight back to my apartment.
I passed a row of independent shops. One of them was for donated goods that were sold on for charity. A sign in the window read: Volunteers Wanted.
That gave me an idea.
Back at home, I opened my laptop up and typed in a search for ‘Voluntary Work’.
I figured this would be a great way to meet someone new. With the added bonus of doing something helpful.
I didn’t see myself standing behind the counter in a shop but there would be something out there that was right for me.
Pages of links came up, and after making myself a coffee with low fat milk and no sugar, I began to work my way through them.
There were many deserving causes that tugged at my heartstrings, and I sent off for more details about voluntary roles helping out an animal charity, cleaning up a park in the city centre, and working on a community farm.
I was about to call it a day when my eye was caught by a search result at the bottom of the page.
It read: Help Save Our Fire Tower.
Now, I’d heard of fire towers, but I’d never seen one in real life. I was pretty sure they were a thing of the past, made redundant by modern technology.
But I was intrigued enough to click the link.
It took me to the website of a group who had bought an old fire tower. The tower had been closed down thirty years ago and left to fall into disrepair. The group wanted to renovate it and open it up as a tourist attraction.
They were looking for people who could spend time at the fire tower working on the fixes.
It sounded great and I sent them my details.
I hoped they would get back to me straight away. When, after a salad with whole-meal bread, I still hadn’t heard back from them, I decided to fill time that evening by doing a bit of my own research.
The group’s site said the fire tower was located in a rural area on the outskirts of my home city. I typed in the location and went to an online image showing the fire tower from above.
The fire tower itself showed as a speck in the middle of a forest. Presumably, it had been this that had been monitored for signs of a fire back in the day.
On the city side of the forest, the trees eventually thinned out and the grounds of large houses began to dominate the landscape.
I wasn’t interested in seeing swimming pools, tennis courts and helipads, so I moved the view away from the city, out over the fire tower and deeper into the forest.
The treetops spread across my screen in a beautiful display of nature, and then the image blurred.
All I could make out were vague shapes.
Assuming the problem was my laptop, I refreshed, and cleared my cache, and turned it on and off again, which was as far as my technological know-how stretched.
None of this helped, though. The image was still blurred.
So, I moved the view ten miles along, and the details returned. I could see open countryside, a farm, and what could have been a tractor.
I kept looking in all directions and soon realized there was nothing wrong with my laptop or the internet.
Instead, bizarrely, there was an area of land which was not showing. If I had been into conspiracy theories, I would have thought it had been censored.
That, for some disturbing reason, ordinary people like me were not allowed to see what was down there.
I yawned and rubbed my face. Somehow it was almost midnight. I’d lost myself down a rabbit hole and was thinking strange thoughts.
I smiled wryly to myself. This was definitely another sign that I needed to get out more.
I closed the tabs on my computer, ending up with just my emails, and was pleased to see I had a reply from the administrator at the fire tower group.
It said the group would be delighted for me to join them on site renovating the fire tower and added that they were holding a social event at a city centre bar tomorrow evening. I’d be welcome to come along and meet some of the members of the group.
I replied that that sounded fantastic and I’d see them there.
That night I slept better than I had in what felt like a very long time.
The following evening, I chose a fashionable casual shirt and pair of slacks. I gave my smartest shoes a polish and put some gel in my hair. And that was me ready to go to the bar and meet up with the fire tower group.
As I sat on the subway, I must admit, my stomach was churning with nerves. I was so out of practice with socializing.
At the bar, there were five people sitting around a table in a corner.
Hoping it was the fire tower group, and that I could remember how to have an actual conversation with people, in real life rather than onscreen, I strolled over.
It turned out I had nothing to worry about. The members of the fire tower group were welcoming and chatty. A cold beer helped my nerves as well.
They were a mixed bunch. One of them, Mike, was a retired firefighter, though he was quick to point out he’d spent his career at an inner-city station and had never been near a fire tower professionally. There was an accountant, Jeff, who also handled the admin for the group as a registered voluntary organization. There were a couple of university students, Tony and Adam, and there was Beth.
Beth was about my age and worked as a nurse. She had an infectious laugh and clearly chewed her nails. And as the evening progressed, all I wanted to do was talk to her.
At one point I was trying to tell her a story about something funny that had happened to me when I was a teenager, but I totally muddled up the story and ended up sitting there silently wishing I’d never opened my mouth in the first place.
Beth put her hand on my arm and said simply, “It’s going to be okay.”
I think she could tell I’d been going through a bad time, and I had to fight against opening up to her about my marriage ending.
Socially awkward as I was, even I knew that was a guaranteed way to put someone off liking me.
I hoped, though, that one day soon I would be able to talk to Beth about the things that really mattered to me.
I was feeling a strange mixture of uncomfortable and happy, when Jeff said he wanted to run through the Rota for the following weekend’s visit to the fire tower. He and the ex-firefighter had both been due to go along and spend the Saturday there.
Unfortunately, neither of them could make it now and he asked if anyone else was available.
Beth leaned over to me and said quietly, “How about it? We can spend time working on the tower and get to know each other better.”
Heat spread through my cheeks. I grinned and replied, “Sounds good to me.”
Beth raised her hand and told the group we’d be happy to step in.
I spent the subway ride home in a happy daze. I’d already met someone I really liked, who seemed to feel the same way about me.
Back home, I was smiling as I fell asleep.
The rest of the week passed far too slowly. Beth had given me her mobile number in the bar, and I kept starting to write messages to her, then deleting them because they were far too long and far too eager.
Play it cool, I told myself. Then an hour later started composing another wordy text, which I deleted.
Finally, Saturday morning dawned.
I’d hired a car for the drive out to the fire tower. After getting lost on the narrow winding roads twice, I finally reached the fire tower and parked up in its shadow.
Craning my neck to look up, I was impressed. It was simply and sturdily built, with legs that reached high up into the sky, where an observation deck had what must have been panoramic views over the surrounding landscape.
A ladder was the only way to reach the deck.
The ladder did not look as sturdy as the rest of the fire tower, and the thought of climbing it filled me with unease.
But I had to, or else what would Beth think of me?
I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself before she arrived.
Wondering if she’d sent a message with her ETA, I checked my mobile, and cussed. I had no bars on the screen.
Between the remote location, the fire tower itself and the surrounding forest, I realized this should not have come as a surprise.
So, I could either wait for Beth to get there, or I could overcome my fears in private and climb up to the deck.
It wouldn’t matter then how much I was grimacing or turning pale.
I could be up in the fire tower, appearing all confident and cool, when Beth rocked up. I could tell her the climb was a piece of cake.
Decision made, I put a foot on the bottom rung, grasped the sides and began to climb.
The first half-a-dozen rungs were easy. Then I started to breathe harder, my muscles began to ache and sweat trickled down my face.
My new diet had done wonders for me in recent days, but it hadn’t wiped out months of living off junk food and sitting around on my backside.
I was very unfit and not ready for this climb.
But I was not going to turn back.
Thinking about Beth, how we’d talk and have a good time, spurred me on.
Soon, sharp pains were flickering in my chest and my hands were so sweaty I was worrying about losing my grip.
I paused, tightened my fingers around a rung, and made a big mistake.
I looked down.
The ground loomed below, so far away. I felt dizzy, felt the world around me begin to spin.
I was going to fall. I was sure of it.
I closed my eyes and gripped the ladder even tighter. Then, somehow, I started ascending again.
I kept my eyes closed and felt my way, rung by endless rung, upwards, until my hand struck an obstruction.
I looked up. The base of the observation deck was inches away, and there was some kind of hatch blocking my way.
If it was locked, I’d have no choice but to go back down, a prospect my exhausted limbs and stretched-taut nerves couldn’t face.
I pushed and, to my relief, the hatch opened.
Almost there, I thought, and clambered upwards… and at last I was through the hatch.
I scrambled forwards on all fours, and lay there on the floor of the deck, spread-eagled, gasping for breath and laughing to myself all at the same time.
I was so glad that Beth was not here to see this, and so proud of myself. I’d made it. The all-action hero in a fire tower.
Feeling shaky with the exertion, I got to my feet and looked around.
There was a lock on the hatch, which could only be engaged from above. The floor of the deck appeared to me to be pretty secure. There was also a wooden safety barrier, which ran around the edge of the whole deck and came up to my chest.
A pile of what I realized was broken up furniture took up one corner, presumably left over from when the fire tower was in active service.
A roof which was supported by narrow pillars would give shelter - provided the wind and the rain were straight down, otherwise the deck was exposed to the elements.
Thankfully it was a fine day. Bright and clear and I could see for miles.
I turned in a circle to take the view in.
My mouth was probably hanging open in awe, but I didn’t care.
The trees stretched out for miles in every direction. I was above the canopy and could make out patches of open ground between the nearby trees.
Trying to remember the online view I had seen, I worked out that the mansions would be to the south. I couldn’t see any of them but expected that their rich owners would be in their home gyms or their home cinemas on a Saturday. The area that had been mysteriously blurred out would be to the north.
I made a mental note to ask Beth if she knew what that was all about when she got there.
Soon, I hoped. This was the most beautiful view I had ever seen in my life, and I wanted to share it with her.
I wanted to tell her how happy I was to be there, and how lovely she was. She might even look up at me, place a hand on my arm then move in closer.
We’d kiss.
I smiled as my mobile pinged with an incoming message.
It was from Beth: Hey. I’m so sorry. The hospital called. I need to go in tonight to cover for sick colleagues. I’m going to have to turn round and head back now. So sorry again.
I stared at the screen and sighed.
So much for spending time with Beth, so much for my dreams of us kissing.
I put my head in my hands, muttered, “Loser,” and sat down. I rested my back against the barrier and stared up at the roof.
Was it too much to ask, wanting to share my life with someone?
The answer, it seemed, was a definite yes.
I closed my eyes and hugged myself.
Started awake. Shivered. Realized I had fallen asleep and been dragged back into awareness by the sound of my phone ringing.
I rubbed my face and looked at the screen. It was Beth calling.
I answered with a hoarse, “Hey.”
“Hey you,” she replied. “I’m just calling to ask if you got the emergency alert? The authorities are telling everyone to stay indoors in an area that takes in the fire tower. They’re saying it’s a suspected chemical leak.”
If I had got the alert, I’d slept through it. “Uh, no,” I grunted, still groggy.
“But you’re on the road, right? Heading away from the fire tower?” she asked.
I climbed to my feet. “To be honest, no. I was shattered from climbing the ladder and then got your message, and well…”
I was about to tell her how receiving her message had made me feel. How I had feelings for her, but something had caught my attention.
A thick spiral of dark smoke was rising into the sky in the distance over to the north.
“Are you still there?” Beth’s voice broke back through.
“Yeah,” I answered. “It’s just, I’m still at the fire tower, up in the observation deck and I think I can see the source of the incident. There looks to have been some sort of accident over where the online map was blurred.”
It occurred to me I should explain what I meant by this – but she was way ahead of me.
Spookyville!” she exclaimed. “Tony and Adam are convinced there’s a secret military laboratory over that way. I’m not so sure, but you should get down from the fire tower and get away.”
I looked over the edge of the barrier, all the way back down to the ground. “Maybe I’d be better off staying here,” I said, thinking out loud. “If there is a chemical leak, it could be safer to be higher.”
“I’m not sure…” Beth began but once again my attention was caught by something else.
I could see a figure on the ground, stumbling in between the trees. I couldn’t see them clearly because of the distance.
But whoever it was, whatever was going on, they weren’t out for a stroll in the woods.
They were running away from something. I was convinced of it.
I told Beth, “There is something strange going on here. I’m going to hang up now and get a quick film, send it to you.”
I disconnected before she got past the first couple of letters of my name.
I was buzzing because Beth had cared about me enough to call. And I knew we would be going for a drink to talk about the strange events at the fire tower real soon.
Me and Beth as an item were very much back on the agenda.
I held the phone up to catch the plume of smoke, then held it over the edge of the barrier to film the stranger on the ground.
And noticed they weren’t alone.
There were three… no, four figures weaving their way along the forest floor.
I held the phone out further, tried to click the focus, and proved that I was a loser after all.
I dropped the phone.
Watched it tumble down through the air.
I lost sight of it in seconds, but it must have landed near one of the figures on the ground. Because they stopped in their tracks and looked up.
Right at me.
I stared in their direction as they moved towards the base of the ladder and began to climb it.
Which wasn’t a problem, I told myself. What’s that saying? Safety in numbers, that was it.
And the other figures were following the first up the ladder.
Maybe they’d decided that being up in the fire tower could be safer. I’d been thinking that very thing moments earlier.
Only now, for reasons I could not explain, I did not feel at all safe.
I felt exposed. Alone. And afraid.
I went over to the open hatch and peered down. The leading figure was climbing much quicker than I had. They’d already made it half-way up.
Which made me think, they must not be suffering any ill-effects from whatever had made them flee.
But as I focused on them, I could see their clothes were dirty. And their hair, and skin.
Their hands looked filthy as they grabbed rung after rung.
My guts tightened another notch. I looked at the cover for the hatch. Thought about closing it and snapping the lock into place.
But I couldn’t do that. This man, and I could see it was a man now, was clearly not alright.
Now he was closer, I could make out that his skin was more than dirty. It was damaged. Open wounds cut across the top of his hands.
I had to help him, not keep him away.
Him, and the others. Below him, I could see more figures frantically ascending the ladder.
There weren’t just three or four others now. There must have been a dozen.
This was bad.
And the man who’d first stepped onto the ladder, was only a dozen rungs away. He hadn’t looked up yet, hadn’t called out.
He was just getting closer and closer.
Close enough in a moment for me to reach down and grab his arm and help him up.
“You’re almost there,” I called down. “Almost safe.”
I wanted to reassure him, because that was the right thing to do, but I could hear the fear in my own voice.
And instead of offering my hand, I looked down though the hatch at the top of the man’s head.
Saw there were things moving in his scalp.
Maggots, I realized.
“W… what is wrong with you?” I asked, my voice shaking.
His only reply was to look up.
Revulsion rushed through me.
His face was a vision of terror. Suppurating wounds glistened on his forehead and cheeks. Flaps of grey skin hung down from the edge of the hideously damaged flesh. Part of his upper and lower lips were missing completely, and I could see the teeth beneath fixed in a horrifying grimace.
One of his eyes shone darkly as he looked at me. The other was a hollow pit.
Bile rose into the back of my mouth. My legs felt like they were about to give way.
I was face to face with a nightmare and its hands were about to grip the sides of the hatch.
In seconds it would be onto the observation deck.
Followed by the others.
I managed to break through the terror which had started to rob me of all sense and strength, and slammed the hatch down with my foot, fell to my knees and snapped the lock into place.
The hatch began to shake as the man, the thing, began to strike it. A sickening growling sound rose up towards me as well.
It sounded like a rabid animal.
More distorted, feral voices were raised in protest and the hatch rattled violently.
As long as it holds, I’m safe, I thought, and began to pace the observation deck, desperately looking for another way down.
But there was no escape from the horror enveloping me. More figures were streaming through the forest and they were clustering around the ladder. I could no longer see the ladder itself because it was covered in a writhing, growling mass of the things.
Still more came and tried to drag themselves up and over the bodies of their grotesque kin. They moved with a blind rage and, in a flash, I understood what the creatures were.
They were Zombies.
Dead and crazed and trying to get to me.
I shuddered as I thought what they would do to me, if they got their hands on me.
I glanced back at the hatch. Despite the assault, it was still holding. I still had a chance.
Then I saw some of the Zombies were no longer trying to get onto the ladder. They were clambering up the legs of the fire tower. Some falling in their frenzy, but others clinging on and crawling along the wood, getting nearer.
Nearer.
A scream grew inside me… as ravaged hands appeared on top of the barrier.
The Zombie rose into view. It glared at me. Its eyes were bloodshot pools of anger. A low, furious growl drifted from its lips.
Its face was whole but, as it mounted the barrier, I saw that its gut was an open wound. The grey slime of its intestines were revealed, as it lowered itself onto the observation deck and began to stagger towards me.
I backed away, and almost fell over the broken-up furniture. There was nowhere else to go.
And if I couldn’t flee, I had to fight.
I picked up a table leg, let loose the scream, ran at the Zombie, and rammed the thick fragment of wood into its eye.
The Zombie cried out, staggered backwards, then toppled to the floor and lay there motionless.
Death had finally claimed it.
I felt a rush of relief, a short-lived burst of hope that everything was going to be okay.
Then I saw a second Zombie was on the verge of scaling the barrier.
I picked up another table leg, braced myself for the next attack. The Zombie raised its arms and growled. And out of nowhere a sharp sound filled the air. The Zombie collapsed onto its face. Fresh blood and gore decorated the back of its shattered head.
More sharp sounds followed. The sounds of weapons being discharged, I realized, and lay flat as I could on the deck.
It seemed the cavalry had arrived, and I did not want to end up as a casualty by accident.
For long minutes the torrent continued, and when it ceased the hatch was no longer rattling and there were no more Zombies trying to scale the barrier.
I crawled forward on my belly and chanced a look over the barrier. The ground between the trees was covered in the remains of Zombies. Soldiers were picking them up one at a time and throwing them in the back of lorries.
Clean-up time, I figured.
I kept low, kept quiet. I was going to wait till the military had finished clearing up the mess that presumably had originated in the lab, then head back down the ladder and hope no one had shot my hire car.
The soldiers worked rapidly and efficiently – so much so that I had the awful feeling that this wasn’t the first time they’d done this.
And soon the trucks were starting to pull away until there was just one jeep left. An officer and a couple of his men, I guessed. Ticking the final boxes.
I didn’t care about cover ups by this point. I’d survived. At the end of the day that was all that mattered.
Though it did not look like I was going to able to sneak away. One of the soldiers was looking through the window of the hire car. Another was pointing up at the deck.
Ah well, I thought. Don’t sweat the details.
All they’d find up here was an innocent citizen and the remains of three Zombies.
A thought trickled through my brain.
I’d killed one Zombie with the table leg. The soldiers had taken out a second Zombie.
I turned slowly, as the third Zombie growled and lifted its head.
I hadn’t seen it make it onto the deck during the firing and it must have had sense left in its corrupted brain to lie low.
A dead man playing dead, I thought, and a wave of hysteria rose through me.
The Zombie was in between me and the pile of makeshift weapons, and there was no way the soldiers could get up the ladder quick enough.
The Zombie was standing upright, swaying from side to side, and was staring at me.
It began to shuffle forwards.
I held my hands up. “Please,” I begged impotently. “Please don’t hurt me.”
The Zombie shuffled on. It was inches away from me. Its fetid breath was hot against my skin.
Its mouth opened. Drool hung in thick trails from its yellowed teeth. Its decaying lips were almost touching mine.
Not so long ago I’d been daydreaming about kissing Beth. Now I was in a Zombie’s rancid embrace.
“No!” I yelled out at the top of my voice and started to push the Zombie away. I started to run with my hands still pressed against its chest.
Until we reached the barrier, and suddenly the Zombie was toppling over it, and falling to the ground.
It landed with a sickening crunch on the roof of the hire car.
I stood there, trying to catch my breath, thoughts tumbling through my mind.
I’d lost the deposit for the hire care and would need a ride home.
I was about to have a conversation with the military that could lead who knew where.
And as soon as I could, I would contact Beth and ask her out on a date.
If she said, no, well that prospect did not feel like such a big deal anymore.
I’d survived a Zombie onslaught. I reckoned I could handle online dating after all.