Spencer Hotel

Chapter Eighteen

The eerie moans of the undead filled the air as they pressed against the sturdy gate, their decaying hands clawing at the metal barriers that separated them from their prey.

Samuel crouched low behind a large skip on the side of the street, his heart pounding in his chest. Samuel's breath came in short, nervous bursts as he scanned the faces of the biters. His eyes darted from one grotesque visage to another, searching for any sign of an opening, a chance to slip past the relentless horde and reach the safety of the community's walls.

His mind raced with fear and desperation. Samuel knew he had to distract the horde somehow so he could slip inside. Carefully he raised his body up from the ground. He glanced into the skip, scanning for anything useful. A box of matches caught his eye. Reaching his arm inside, his hands wrapped around the box tightly, pulling it out from the skip.

With hope in his eye, Samuel slid open the box, unveiling nothing but dust and dirt. Scrunching his face in disappointment, he threw the empty box of matches into the skip.

In his frustration, Samuel's eyes met with a white egg timer hidden in the corner of the skip. Carefully reaching inside, Samuel took out the timer. "Please work." Samuel whispered winding the egg timer to thirty seconds.

Pulling his arm back, Samuel threw the timer as hard as he could. The egg timer sailed through the air, its white plastic casing gleaming faintly in the bright sunlight. Landing on the opposite side of the street, away from both him and the gate. Thirty seconds began to tick down, and the tension in Samuel's chest tightened. It felt like an eternity as he nervously waited.

With immense relief a loud continuous ding echoed through the street, the undead, startled by the sudden noise, turned towards the source. The biters slowly shuffled towards the timer, their movements awkward and sluggish. Their collective focus was now on this mysterious loud device.

As the horde moved away from the gate, Samuel noticed an opening. Using this precious moment to his advantage. He darted out from behind the skip, his footsteps as quiet as a whisper on the cracked pavement. His heart raced as he moved swiftly and silently, his eyes locked on the gate that separated him from safety. The timer continued to ring loudly, reaching its final seconds. Samuel's breath hitched, and he pushed himself to move faster. With just seconds to spare, the timer finally reached zero, coming to an eerie quiet.

That split-second distraction was all Samuel needed. He reached the gate, his trembling hands fumbling for the latch. With a desperate tug, the gate swung open, and he slipped inside just as the first of the horde turned its attention back to him. Closing the gate with force, he made sure it was locked and secure. Safe within the community's walls, Samuel took a moment to catch his breath.

Regaining his composure, Samuel gazed to the end of the street, noticing a large crowd of people shouting outside of the Whisperer's house. His head still spinning, Samuel rushed towards the commotion.

Their piercing cries reverberated through the street, growing clearer as Samuel approached. "Tell them to leave us alone!" someone pleaded. "Lead them away!" another voice screamed. "Please, save us!" echoed their desperate shouts. Yet, the pleas for help fell on deaf ears as the Whisperer remained hidden in his house, far from the chaos of the protest.

"Why isn't he doing anything?" someone yelled, their pleas for mercy growing louder. "Maybe he's a fraud!" someone else chimed in.

Tony stood within the agitated crowd, his arms crossed. Sage, standing beside him, appeared frustrated, swaying restlessly. Samuel made his way through the crowd, joining them, and Tony's eyes met his with instant relief.

"Where have you been?" Tony inquired, a faint smile forming on his face.

"I ran into some trouble," Samuel replied, his thoughts lingering on the old man. He dodged Tony's question and asked, "What's happening here?"