Spencer Hotel

Chapter Three

Samuel's heart sank as the words echoed through the room. The news anchor's voice carried a sense of finality, as if the world had succumbed to an irreversible fate. Fear gripped Samuel's chest, tightening its hold with each passing moment.

Brooklyn, her eyes welling up with tears, whispered, "What are we meant to do? Stay here?"

"It's our best option. We don't know what the fuck is going on, and you're suggesting to just run out there blindly?" Samuel replied, his voice confused and angry.

"I don't know. I'm just scared" Brooklyn responded looking to the floor.

Placing his thumb and index finger onto the bridge of his nose, Samuel sighed closing his eyes, "I know you are. I am too. I don't have all the answers, I'm clueless, but we are gonna have to work together. We need to figure out what we have, and go from there."

Brooklyn agreed. Tears began to drip down her cheeks, and land softly on the hard carpet. Samuel hesitantly placed his hand on top of her head, smoothly stroking her hair.

"We are going to be okay. We will work this out." Samuel said optimistically.

Samuel stepped into the small white kitchen. Opening the small fridge tucked in the corner, he peered inside. The clear plastic shelves were empty. Three small milk packets sat messily in the fridge door compartment. All out of date by over a month. The deep buzzing of the fridge amplified the dire situation they were in.

Roughly closing the door shut. Samuel leaned against the fridge, his head resting on his skinny arms. Brooklyn wiped her chubby cheeks from tears, and searched through the old kitchen cabinets.

Finding a complimentary bag of off branded chips, and a box full of tea bags and coffee sachets, she chucked them on top of the countertop.

"We are going to starve to death." Brooklyn observed.

"Just stop." Samuel angrily answered.

"What? You want me to lie?" Brooklyn cockily suggested.

Before Samuel could respond, the landline phone began to ring. The rings echoed through the room, loudly breaking the moment of silence. Rushing towards the phone, Samuel answered, not wanting any further attention from outside.

There was nothing, just a low quiet buzz. Samuel waited for a voice, but none came. Hesitantly he answered, "Hello?"

"Hello! I've been calling every room! You're the first to pick up! What the fuck is happening?" The man panicked, his accent sounded American.

"I don't know. Some sort of virus." Samuel responded weary of the man.

"My name is Keaton. I'm a musician from America. I came here on tour." The man said over the phone.

"I'm Samuel. I'm here with my girlfriend Brooklyn. We are originally from Adelaide, but we're on a holiday." Samuel introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you Samuel. I hope you are safe. I'm trapped on the fifth floor in my apartment. Those, things, are everywhere. The staircase is full of them, and the elevator isn't working." Keaton said.

"We are just below you, on the fourth floor. What do you mean by, those things?" Samuel wondered.

"Haven't you seen one? The bitters?" Keaton asked.

"I saw a man standing at our door. He looked dead. He had blood in his mouth." Samuel answered.

"Whatever you do, don't go outside. They will rip you apart, eat your flesh. You don't want to get bitten." Keaton said.

Samuel's eyes opened wide in surprise. He had no idea what he was talking about, "Don't get bitten? That's what the news said. I don't get it." He said confused.