After The Turn: Redemption

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After The Turn: Redemption Page 1

by Daniels, Melvin




  Redemption

  After the turn

  Melvin Daniels

  After The turn

  The world has been plagued by a virus, civilisation has been lost, humanity is on the brink of extinction. This is a story of the survivors of the biggest global pandemic, named by the people as

  THE TURN

  The dead roam

  1

  They made their way through the brush, rain was beating down relentlessly overhead, The sound of the raindrops landing on the leaves of the woodland trees that surrounded them offered a comforting distraction from the deafening silence of the way the world now is. The sounds of cars racing along the roads was all but a memory now, even the sounds of snapping twigs under foot brought fear and terror these days. And the weather brought its own challenges, Vigilance is the key to not being succumbed to life since the turn.

  Drew Barnes was being led by his best friend and last remaining travelling companion Marcus North, Of everyone who they had lost along the way he was grateful to have Marcus with him, Marcus had lived his life in the countryside as a gamekeeper and hunter, he knew the outdoors well and was handy with a rifle, as well as knives, the idea of killing wasn’t exactly foreign to Marcus so the fact they now have to kill to survive, gave him a handy head start.

  Drew stopped as Marcus raised his hand, in a clenched fist signaling him to do so. They both took a knee. Marcus had heard some rustling up ahead. Drew watched as Marcus lay prone and crawled forwards to a higher vantage point.

  Marcus put the scope of his hunting rifle to his right eye and closed his left. He rested his finger on the trigger, he needed to be ready, a split second could be the difference between life and death.

  He could see a solitary figure stumbling through the ferns and bushes a few hundred yards up ahead, as if intoxicated, struggling to even stand upright with no sense of its

  surroundings, its clothes torn to shreds on the branches around. Marcus double checked for any others, then zeroed back in on the lifeless face of what was once a female, a female who would have been probably been enjoying the best day of her life, before this had all happened, her wedding dress was more brown than the glorious pure white it should have been.

  Marcus beckoned Drew forwards,

  “What we got?” Drew asked

  “One stray one, who’s turn is it?” Marcus replied “I got if you don’t want it”

  Drew did not say anything, instead Marcus handed him the rifle and pulled out a seven-inch knife. “You need to start stepping up brother, I took all three yesterday”

  Drew knew that Marcus was right, but he was not ready to kill unless he had to.

  Marcus crept round to the right. Drew picked up the rifle moved forward and set his sights on the thing in front of them, he wasn’t that great of a shot with the rifle, although Marcus had been teaching him he lacked the confidence to pull the trigger, but they could lose control of the situation in an instant and he had to be ready.

  Marcus tiptoed his way forward trying to limit the noise he was making, so not to alert the corpse bride to his presence. He got a few yards away and she turned to face him, she appeared to stare directly at him through cataract eyes, clouded over so the natural colour was nonexistent, they say the eyes are the gateway to the soul, her soul was long gone. She was staring through him, unknown to her that he was there, she was just another empty space filling a human body, with the only need to feed on the living.

  This disease is brutal, once you catch it you’re a dead man walking, the best thing you can do depending on where or how you catch it is to end it yourself and don’t suffer the pain of the virus consuming your or the indignity of turning and joining the mass of reanimated dead. But the problem being the majority of humans cannot bring themselves to do it. Instead they cling on to the hope that by some miracle they survive, they heal they live. But the irony of it all is that your already dead. No one knows how it started, there are many theories, conspiracies or straight up rumors but no one definitively has an answer and that is probably the best way, it is what it is SHIT HAPPENS

  Marcus crouched behind a thorn bush, the dead woman in the wedding dress blundered its way towards him, the thorns tearing deeper through what was left of the ragged material and ripping some skin from its bones, the bush was so thick the woman got tangled causing her to struggle, but still she came moaning as she clawed her way forwards, until she was completely trapped, she started screaming, shrieking even and eventually fell to the floor.

  She was still making such awful noises, it was getting louder as the thing seemed to panic, Marcus couldn’t see her, she was completely covered in the bush, but with her making so much noise it put them in further danger, he must kill her.

  Marcus thrashed violently trying blindly in vain to hit her. but she was in too deep. He swung his arm back in a big arc, starting high with his left hand and finishing down low and then too his right repeating again and again, trying to cut his way into the bush.

  There was a snap of a gunshot behind him, Marcus spun around and saw from a thick cluster of bushes a second stumbling body had appeared, then a third, then a fourth. A second snap, Marcus turned his head to see Drew lining up a third shot, he had missed with the first two.

  The time for discretion had long since gone. Marcus passed the knife into his left hand, reached behind him and took out of its holster, his Kimber Solo Carry handgun, which was concealed in his waistband. He felt the smooth rosewood handle in his hand and pulled it out. He clicked the safety off, Marcus fired hitting the closest one in the head, decimating its skull, it fell to the floor in a crumpled mess.

  The next 9mm round was ready in the chamber. Marcus squeezed the trigger gently but just as he could fully depress it, he was grabbed by the ankle. He tried to move forward but slipped on the damp ground underfoot. He fell forward smashing his face on the wet earth. He brought his head up and twisted his body around to see the bride crawling out of the bush, her teeth gnawing at him, he had lost his gun when he fell, he could see it but was out of his reach, as he was being dragged further back into the bush. He started kicking his free leg at her face, planting a massive size 13 army surplus boot into its jaw, breaking the bottom half clean off, but she still didn’t let go, her dead fingers dug into his shin threatening to pierce it, he kept kicking but to no avail.

  Drew set off running, as fast as he could, Marcus was in trouble he closed the distance, 200 yards, 100 yards, 50. He was close but all three of the dead were nearly on top of Marcus. He located the handgun, A thin male which was the second out of the cluster of bushes was right by it. Drew jumped into it with a shoulder charge, knocking the dead man over. He bent down retrieved the gun and from a kneeling position fired two rounds into the chest of the next one, and then one into the frontal lobe. He stood over the one he charged to the floor and fired into the back of its head. The blood splattered his face. Drew looked for Marcus, and he could see he was in the grasp of the woman in the dress. He raised the gun to end it, but a slight shake of the hand or misjudgment and he could hit Marcus. He was not as close as he was to the other Two.

  Marcus looked for his blade, if he could reach it then maybe he could move enough to penetrate her skull. He could not see it around him, he could not remember putting it away. He patted his pockets frantically, it was not there, he noticed his hand was covered in blood, so was his forearm, he turned his head to the left, there it was, in his shoulder. He must have fell on it when he was grabbed, and where he was so full of adrenalin fighting for his life, he must not have realized, He tried to pull it out, just the slightest bit hurt like hell, he took deep breaths and told himself out on three.

  One… he put his hand over the hilt


  Two… he gripped the knife

  Three…

  The Woman had let go, as Drew had delivered a kick to her ribs, Marcus pulled the knife from his shoulder and in one swift move brought it down through the skull of the woman, destroying her brain.

  “You ok?” Drew asked

  “Does it look like I’m ok? I nearly fucking died, I fucking stabbed myself” the blood was pouring from his wound. Staining his Blink182 world tour shirt. “How many times? How long are we going to search?” Marcus raged

  “Until we find her!” Drew shouted into the face of his friend

  The rain was continuing furiously a clash of thunder overhead as if the weather could feel the tension that was brewing.

  “Just accept it brother” Marcus straightened up moving back from Drew’s face “She’s dead”

  2

  The sun was blazing as they cruised along the single-track road, the windows were all the way down, the paintwork on Marcus’s lime green Mazda BT-50 pickup had taken a dusting from the dirt they were kicking up. AC/DC was blasting from the sound system one of the many CD’s that was kept in the glove box.

  As Marcus was rocking out to the song TNT. Drew stared out of the passenger window. The countryside was beautiful, endless fields upon fields which would have once been full of crops, and hopefully will be again one day. When they got to a brow of a hill, you could see for miles all around, fields, trees, hedgerows in every direction.

  It had been a few weeks since what happened in the woods, Marcus’s wound had healed enough, although he wouldn’t ever let any pain stop him from doing anything, and he certainly wasn’t going to let Drew drive his pride and joy.

  They were headed for Andover, a mid-sized industrial town, it used to house thousands of people. They had found themselves skirting around the suburbs the lately they could not move on, Drew would not let them, this was where he lost her.

  Drew closed his eyes and tried to remember the last time he saw her, she was sleeping next to him on a dirty mattress on the floor of a damp old two story terrace house, the middle in a block of seven. Marcus nudged him awake.

  “Boss, we got to go now, under cover of darkness we need some supplies, then I think we should leave this place and head for the docks at Southampton?”

  they had been holed up in this place for a couple of nights now, which is the longest they stayed anywhere, the idea was to travel to the dockyard find a boat and sail to somewhere the world was still as it should be. Hoping for too much, Drew thought but if they did not have hope then what did they have?

  Drew looked down at her, she was so peaceful he could watch her for hours, he parted her short brown hair and kissed her gently on the forehead.

  “I’ll be back soon Sarah” Drew whispered “I love you”

  He stood up and turned to Marcus.

  “I hate leaving her brother”

  “I know but Martin and Chloe are both here they will look after her don’t worry”

  Reluctantly Drew joined Marcus and the pair of them walked to the back door, their friend Martin was waiting for them on guard. He was equipped with one of Marcus’ browning 12-gauge b525 shotguns.

  “How long you going to be?” Martin asked running his hand through his ginger mullet.

  “Only a couple of hours, wake Sarah in an hour and get her to start packing up” Drew answered

  Martin nodded and pushed a walnut veneered chest of drawers out of the way of the door to let them out. Drew glanced back at Sarah asleep on the floor, then with a deep sigh, stepped out into the night.

  “Boss, there’s a farmhouse coming up on the left, want to check it out?” Marcus turned the music down “Boss?”

  Drew blinked hard and focused back on the here and now.

  “Yeah, stop here and we will search it”

  Reclusive places especially farmhouses like this one, are ideal places to find food, drink, tools, weapons anything useful, people did not often think to come out these ways.

  They pulled in, quick and sharp. No point in being discreet, there was only one track in and one track out, so they would have been seen already. They quickly disembarked the truck, and darted towards the building, their feet sounding heavy on the gravel driveway and ducked under the front windows.

  “We check the house first, then barns and outbuildings” Drew took a breath his heart pounding in his chest. “I’ll check the windows at the front, you work your way around the back, and we enter simultaneously”

  Marcus scurried around the building with his rifle in his hands, keeping as low as he can, Drew had the Kimber handgun, and peered through the front window, he could not see anything, or more importantly anyone. The opposite room was the same, his side of the house seemed safe.

  Marcus kicked the back door in, knocking the wooden door off its jambs. He entered the building, rifle drawn, crouched down, all of a sudden, a dog started barking really loudly, really aggressively, it startled Marcus, and he dived down behind a counter. Unsure where the dog was Marcus looked around the unit he was hiding behind and chained up to the cooker was a black and white border collie, growling at him. Marcus raised his hands, put the gun down and showed his palms to the dog, in a non-threatening manner.

  “Shh, shh, shh good boy Shh” he said as he approached, he was used to dogs, he had grown up with them “Good boy” he said as he got closer.

  Drew entered the kitchen, tentatively stepping over the remnants of the cupboards that had been raided, cast off and thrown to the floor. The stench was disgusting, the smell of animal feces engulfed his nasal system, covering his face with one hand to stunt the odors, gun raised.

  “Don’t shoot” Marcus demanded

  Drew did as he was told and lowered the weapon, Marcus had reached out to the dog with some spam from his pack, the dog approached him, Marcus run his hands thoughts its, flea ridden matted fur, clearly malnourished god knows how long he been tied up.

  “We are not wasting food on a dog!” Drew yelled; Marcus ignored him

  They passed through a lot the rooms, the old farmhouse was huge, two floors, basement and an attic to search through. Drew focused on the first floor whilst Marcus went upstairs. Every room was the same, stuff thrown all over the floor, furniture upturned, there was not much to salvage from the mess. He made his way to the door to the basement, locked. But from the inside? He barged it with his shoulder, he planted his boot to it. The door gave a little but not enough.

  “Marcus, get down here” he shouted, he heard Marcus upstairs grumble something and come down the stairs with such heavy feet it felt as if he was going to come through the ceiling. “Help me with this its locked”

  The pair kicked the door together they could feel the door weakening on its hinges

  “What do you reckon is down there?” asked Marcus inquisitively “The antidote to the infection” he joked

  “I don’t know, but must be worth something to lock it away”

  They kept kicking, again and again until the door gave in, opening into the dark cold basement, a smell even worse than the dog mess in the kitchen hit them, covering their faces again they made their way down the metal staircase, weapons at the ready, they were greeted by a swarm of flies, buzzing around their heads. They looked at each other but kept going.

  Hanging from the ceiling there were loads of tools, farming ones like, rakes, scythes shovels, lots of useful stuff, Marcus took a fancy to a billhook which is a tool for cutting shrubs or hedges, the tool had a wooden handle with a ten inch blade which at the top curves around at the top creating a hook effect, he took it off the wall and inspected it, held it in his hand and practiced swiping it, forehand then backhand. The thing was heavy but manageable. It w pretty sharp too, would definitely cause some damage to a dead ones cranium.

  Meanwhile Drew had continued investigating, moving through the clutter of tools and equipment, he could see a figure or something slumped in a chair, suddenly the lights had come on, Marcus had found the switch and had just app
eared, still carrying the billhook looking down at it in his hands, like a child with a new toy

  “I think we’ve stumbled upon a goldmine” Marcus spoke excitedly “Just think what we could do with all this…” he diverted his gaze “Oh, fuck”

  By a window was a man on a wooden chair, a shotgun grasped in his hands between his knees, his head appeared snapped back with a giant hole in it, browning nearly tar black blood, crimson brain matter and bone fragments lined the wall behind him.

  “Why the fuck is the door open?” Drew shouted as he and Marcus headed back to the house.

  “Stop, brother” Marcus yelled after him “There might be someone here” Drew ignored him and bolted onwards. “Shit” he cursed

  Drew darted through the open door, things were all over the place, there was a few spots of blood on the floor, there had been a struggle for sure.

  “Sarah!?” Drew shouted at the top of his voice “Sarah!?” he was panicking, where was she? “Sarah!?” he shouted again, “Martin? Chloe?” there was nothing, no response just sounds of an empty house. Marcus had just caught up

  “What the hell? Where are they?”

  Drew headed to the back door where they had left only hours earlier. And there in the middle of the room tied to a chair, was Martin, his head cocked forward, his unmistakable red fiery hair facing them, a lake of blood on the floor around him.

  “Jesus no!"

  Drew ran towards his old school friend; both of his kneecaps had received a bullet to them. There was no sign of life, he tried in vain to find a pulse on his left wrist which the hand was missing its thumb. He tilted Martin’s head back, his eyeglasses had been smashed, and as he gazed through the hole, which was once Martin’s right eye he, collapsed and vomited onto the floor. A million questions formulated in his mind.

  “Who did this? Why? What happened?” Drew asked at loud standing back up “Where are the girls?”

 

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