Alan whimpered softly, lower lip trembling as he stared at his partner with panic-filled eyes. Daz, just stared, numbly, unable to process what had just happened. Outside, something scratched on the windows as though searching for a way inside.

Jack, swallowing back his own fear, rushed across to Alan and slapped a hand over the injured man's mouth before he could start to cry. In a hushed voice, he spoke reassurance that he knew to be a lie.

“Come on mate, we need to get you out of here.”

“W-what you doing?” Daz asked in a voice too loud for Jacks liking.

“We need to get him out of here before those things come in!”

Daz just stared, open-mouthed, not seeming to process what he heard as he just kept staring at the bloody bite mark on his boyfriend's hand. His head jerked up as a heavy fist hit the glass window above them and Jack’s words seemed to sink in. He gave a sharp nod and grabbed the bat before pushing himself up.

With a grunt, Jack heaved the injured man to his feet and half-dragged, half-carried, him into the living room. As soon as he started moving, Daz followed, closing the door quietly behind them as he did so.

“What do we do?” he asked, voice tinged with an edge of panic.

“Get him up to the next floor,” Jack instructed, looking around the flat. “We’ll lock up and I’ll warn the people in the other flats.”

“Why?”

“Those… things, saw us come in here. They know we’re here and there’s no reason to think they’ll just wander off. If they come inside, we’re all fucked.”

He said the last with a pitying glance towards the injured Alan whose face had already paled with small beads of sweat appearing on his face. The progression was fast and sometime within the next few hours, he would turn violent and Jack honestly had no idea what he would do then.

But that was a problem for later and for the moment, there were a great many more pressing concerns clustered outside the block of flats looking for a way in.

As if in answer to his thoughts, the sound of shattering glass came from the bedroom and the two men shared a look before hurrying towards the door.

Once outside, Jack headed towards the stairs as Daz rushed to the door of the flat opposite his. He knocked as quietly as he could while casting frequent glances back at his own front door. The heavy thud of bodies falling through the window was clearly audible and it was a sound that evoked terror in the man.

Jack, made it up the stairs as Daz spoke rapidly to his neighbours, impressing upon them the need to move before he went to the next flat and did the same. Jack laid Alan down on the floor beside the door and sucked in a breath.

The stairwell ran up the length of the building. Each floor had a landing and a fire door that allowed access to that floor. It would be pointless blocking the door from outside of the stairwell because the infected could just move up to the next floor anyway.

Which meant that they needed to somehow secure the door that led out to the ground floor. At least until the soldiers came. Which wouldn’t be as easy as it sounded.

Each of those fire doors opened inwards, towards the stairwell. Someone on the ground floor could push it open and would have access to all the floors. That meant the best way to block it would be to place something heavy behind it to prevent opening.

Jack gave Alan a considering look, noting the pale, clammy, skin and the beads of sweat on his forehead. His stare was distant, unfocused as whatever the hell it was infecting him worked through his system.

He left him there, on the cold linoleum floor and moved to the nearest door. His clenched fist hit it hard, the sound echoing through the hallway. He waited a bare few seconds and banged again.

“Hold on!” a voice called from within and he heard the sound of a chain being pulled back before the door was opened. “What?”

The man that held the door open glowered at Jack, clearly not appreciating the banging on the door. There was a rank stench of body odour coming from him as he scratched idly at his substantial stomach that was covered only by a white vest.

Jack didn’t know his name but had seen him sitting on the grass outside the block of flats, usually with a few mates and cans of lager. Obnoxious and loud, his face was puffy, and his wide nose had bright red veins showing, the sign of his dependence on alcohol.

“We need your help,” Jack said, quickly filling him in on what was happening.

As he spoke, the door behind him opened, the residents having heard the commotion. A young Asian couple, that kept to themselves and had often fallen afoul of their neighbour's drunken racism. They listened in silent horror as Jack finished speaking.

“We will help,” the man said, and though his wife gripped his arm fearfully, she too nodded.

“There. You don’t need me,” the alcoholic snapped. “Take them two Pak-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll kick your arse!” Daz snapped coming up behind Jack, face flushed with anger.

The alcoholic grunted before sneering and turning away, seeming not to care about the threat they faced. Jack watched the door close with an open-mouthed surprise and looked back at Daz who sneered and shook his head.

“Ignore him. The guy’s a prick.”

“Okay,” Jack sighed, turning to the neighbours. “Thank you for your offer at least. We need anything you have that’s heavy enough to block the door downstairs.”

The young couple shared a look before moving aside and gesturing for the two men to come into their flat.

“I’m Aisha,” the young woman said. “This is my husband, Fahad.”

“Jack, nice to meet you.”

“Daz,” the other man grunted as he looked around the living space. “That chair might do.”

“Take it,” Aisha said without hesitation. “I have a door wedge somewhere. I can get that too?”

“Please,” Jack said as he moved across to help Daz with the chair. “We’ll need some heavy stuff. If you know your neighbours, might be worth asking them.”

“I’ll go,” Fahad said.

Together, the two men lifted the upholstered chair and carried it out into the hall. Daz hesitated a moment as they passed Alan, but the woman sitting beside him waved them on.

One of the neighbours from downstairs, Jack thought as he twisted the chair, to get it through the door.

They put the chair in front of the door and stepped back as Aisha darted down the stairs. She handed them the wedge and Daz grunted as he shifted the chair just enough for Jack to reach down and shove the wedge of rubber beneath the door.

As Daz put the chair back in place, Fahad arrived with more of his neighbours, each of them carrying something heavy enough to help build the barricade. Jack nodded in gratitude as they formed a chain of sorts, passing things down from one person to the next so that Jack and Daz could pile everything up together.

When they were done, the rectangular window set into the door was no longer visible and there were enough piled goods to stop the door opening without a hell of a lot of effort from whoever was on the other side.

“Hope that’s enough,” Jack murmured.

“Me too, mate. What now?”

Jack looked at the other man and saw the fear and worry in his eyes. He needed someone to tell him what to do, to reassure him that things would be okay. Anything that would mean he wouldn’t need to go up and watch his partner turn into one of those creatures they had seen outside.

“We need to find somewhere secure for Alan,” he said, voice soft and full of regret. “We can secure him so that whe… if, he changes, he won’t hurt himself.”

Or anyone else, came the unspoken thought.

Daz clearly understood and nodded sharply, eyes red.

“We have a spare room,” Aisha said. “He will be safe in there.”

“Thank you,” Jack told her with a thin smile. “We need to-“

His voice trailed off as a distant ‘ding’ announced the arrival of the lift. His eyes widened as he realised he’d forgotten all about that.

“Shit!” Daz said as he too realised the problem.

“We need to stop it,” Jack said, heading up the stairs two at a time.

He stepped out into the corridor just as the doors of the lift slid open and Declan stepped out. His flatmate looked around at the gathered people with a slight smile on his lips.

“Ah, wondered where you lot were. Why you up here and not on the ground floor?”

“Were you just there?” Jack asked.

“Yeah.”

“Christ,” Jack muttered as he realised just how close to disaster that had been. “We need to stop this lift moving.”

“Why?” someone asked, and Jack turned to the small crowd.

“The infected have got into one of the flats downstairs. The door to the stairwell is blocked but if they get into the lift, they could come out on any floor. We can’t risk it.”

“You can’t expect us to climb up ten flights of stairs to get to the food,” an elderly woman protested weakly.

“No,” Jack said. “We won’t expect that. I’m sure we can arrange some way to make sure everyone gets what they need. For now, though, we need to stop that lift moving so that we are safe.”

“Here,” Aisha said as she came back out of her flat. Jack hadn’t even noticed her leaving.

She carried a large knife and several heavy books. She dropped the books on the floor of the lift, pushing them up against the edge of the door, blocking it from closing fully. Then, she stuck the knife into the gap the door slid through.

“If the knife fails, the door still won’t close because of the books.”

“Good thinking,” Jack said, approvingly. He looked back at where Alan lay. “Now let’s get him inside and we can figure out what happens next.”

“He’s been bit!” the elderly lady exclaimed as she recoiled away from him. “He’s one of them!”

“No!” Daz snapped. “Don’t talk about him like that!”

“Get him out!”

Several others took up the cry and Jack stepped forward, waving his arms for silence.

“We won’t do that. We’ll put him somewhere secure and then we can sort out rooms for those who had to abandon their flat on the ground floor. Please, I can assure you that you’ll be kept safe.”

Or as safe as you can be, he thought grimly.

It wouldn’t take long for the infected to break out of the flat below and then they would have the ground floor to themselves. The residents of the block of flats were cut off from the front entrance and any supplies that might be brought to them.

If and when the soldiers came, there was a good chance they would just leave them be rather than fight the infected and that thought scared Jack more than any other.

His first priority, after securing Alan and getting the displaced residents settled, was to find a way to contact the military that was supposed to be protecting them and get them the help they badly needed.

Not that he had any idea how he would do that.