After The Turn: Redemption

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After The Turn: Redemption Page 8

by Daniels, Melvin


  “My partner” he started “Adam, I lost him”

  “How” Drew asked

  “I got in trouble, we were in a shopping centre trying to take refuge and scavenge what we could, we got surrounded”

  “You don’t have to go on”

  “He found a way out, but I was terrified I would not move they got too close” Paul took a deep breath “He picked me up and ran with me as fast as he could, he got us outside, but he had been bitten, on his back.”

  Paul choked up Drew was not sure what to do he tried putting his arm around Paul to comfort him, but Paul brushed him aside.

  “We could see the infection spread, so quickly his veins began to bulge with his body trying in its futile attempts to rid his system of the virus, he died right there outside the shopping centre, I couldn’t do anything” Paul wiped his eyes “I think about that every day, he saved me because he loved me. But now he’s not here to love me anymore. So, what was the point?”

  Paul pulled a something out of his t-shirt that was hung around his neck by a faded gold chain.

  “This is all I have of Adam now” he revealed a silver ring.

  Drew fiddled with his own wedding band, twisting it around on his finger as he pondered this. The pain and anguish were crippling his insides. He knew what he wanted to do, he wanted to get her back, all guns blazing if he had to. But at the same time, he could see Paul’s side. Maybe he needed a different idea. Bide his time, calculate another way, construct a different scenario maybe. But what? Maybe she didn’t have much time? Or maybe her time had already expired. But he still needed to know what he was up against, he needed as much intelligence as he could.

  “Would you take me to this trader?” Drew turned to face Paul “Just for a chat? Nothing else?”

  “He’s a very secretive guy, he tries to be secluded from the rest of the world, he might not be easy to find”

  “Would you help me?” Drew pleaded again

  “I’ll think about it” Paul answered “Sorry that’s the best I can give you right now”

  “Be quick about it” Drew snapped firmly.

  Drew walked away back to find Seamus, head down, disappointed, Seamus was waiting for him just by the first row of tents, probably waiting to escort him off the premises. Seamus walked along side as Drew trudged through the camp. Deep in thought.

  “So?” Seamus asked

  “He will think about it” Drew said “I’ll get out of your hair”

  “Make sure you have a meal before you go” Seamus was doing his best to play host

  “It’s ok ill grab Marcus and go”

  “I didn’t realise he was here?” Seamus suddenly became intense he screwed his face up and picked up the pace.

  Drew hurried along behind to see where this was going.

  Seamus stormed into the medical tent; there he saw Marcus sat next to Hannah running his hand through her hair. Deep in conversation.

  “The fuck?” Seamus boomed startling Marcus and Hannah as they suddenly averted their gaze from each other to Seamus stood in the doorway.

  “Get your hands off her” Seamus yelled at Marcus “And you get back to work” He shouted furiously at Hannah, spitting as he spoke.

  Hannah got up, Marcus did likewise.

  “Not you, you slimy son of a bitch” Seamus stepped forwards “You sit”

  Marcus tried to speak; Seamus stopped him.

  “I don’t like you” He started “You show up here, as a hero, we should bow down to you as you saved our guys asses” Seamus ranted “You gave me attitude, that first night, I let you come here even though I didn’t want to, you never thanked me once”

  He took a deep breath and continued

  “I know your type, your scum, you think the world owes you, you think I owe you. And now you’re trying to steal my woman.”

  A wry smile crept its way across Marcus’ face. Drew was stood in the doorway speechless. Hannah was trying her best to stay out of the way.

  “Now get your stuff and get out of my camp”

  Marcus stood up, stood nose to nose with Seamus.

  “Your deluded, you’ve got me wrong” Marcus was calm “If there wasn’t a lady present, I would deck you right here and now” he pointed to Hannah “And you ask her, I’m not trying to steal her, and she is definitely not YOUR woman”

  Marcus barged past him knocking his shoulder into Seamus and headed for the exit,

  “Oh F.Y.I big dog” Marcus said “There’s a congregation of the dead heading for YOUR camp”

  13

  Six of them trekked through some old wheat fields on the other side of the woods behind the camp, far enough away to protect the remaining inhabitants. They had seen the mass of the undead that was heading their way and had intercepted it. They were leading it here. A vast open space, where the crops once grew, they could see far enough in every direction, they could see their threats.

  They reached the middle, they stopped Drew, Marcus, Seamus, Paul, Tommy’s brother Matty and a kid the others called Rocky. Matty had been carrying a

  Titleist pro golf bag, he set it down between them, thankful to have got it off his shoulder. Seamus pulled out a club from the bag, inspected it and theatrically practiced swinging it, as if he were on the PGA tour. Paul, Matty and Rocky each pulled a club too. Matty invited Drew and Marcus to select from the bag.

  They looked at each other before Marcus spoke

  “No thank you, I’m good” he said, motioning to his rifle that was swung over his back.

  Seamus scoffed at him

  “No guns here my friend” Seamus mocked “Guns mean noise and noise brings the dead” he continued swinging the club “This end for swinging at them”

  He turned the club round in his hands, so he held the head. He brought it close to Marcus’ face, the handle had been butchered into a long sharp point like that of a medieval spear.

  “And this end for stabbing” a smile appearing on his battered face, sticking his tongue in a gap between his teeth.

  Marcus batted the club down and turned away.

  In the distance they could hear the faint sound of a bell tinkling, one to the east and moments later another to the west. The plan was in place. The group of dead was large, so they decided to split the horde into two smaller packs. Frances and a guy named Hameed would draw their attention and then keep them interested as they move in their separate ways around the outskirts of the field. Leading them to opposite sides.

  The men in the field organized themselves in two groups of three, covering each other’s backs. Drew teamed up with Paul and Matty whilst Marcus got stuck with Seamus and Rocky.

  “You’re with me my friend” Seamus said with a smirk, his Irish twang giving of a more sinister undertone “I’m not having you behind me for a second”

  Marcus shook his head muttering under his breath. They took the first step forward in their designated direction. This was the first time either Drew or Marcus had headed into the dead to stop them in their tracks. They only ever killed them when there was no other choice.

  Drew walked on, silent, the conversation with Paul still fresh in his mind. He looked down at the dust on his shoes and at the ground, as barren as the life that surrounds it. The gloomy outlook on the future, the knowledge that this could be the very last act in his thirty-one years of life, he could literally be walking to his demise. He was terrified, he still was not comfortable with killing these things, as much as he has tried to become desensitized to it all, they were people once, people with family, friends a story to tell. Every one of them. His mind came back to the woman in the woods, in her wedding dress, her life had been building up to that moment, the moment a new chapter in her life should be starting, then he thought deeper, was someone still looking for her? Had they taken her away from someone?

  Drew looked up, he could see them coming out of the tree line, stumbling along, tripping over themselves following Frances like rats following the pied piper. The groans were so loud, wi
th them in such close proximity to each other. He took a deep breath and walked on.

  “How many you killed? How many guns have you got?”

  The questions kept on coming, the eager kid called Rocky full of nervous energy bouncing on the balls of his feet. Marcus was trying his hardest not to club him in the face, he was irritating him, clenching his billhook in his right hand, breathing heavily out of his nose. As he watched Rocky swinging his club about double handed like Darth Maul from Star Wars or if he was on Gladiators playing duel. Seamus was loving it; he could see how frustrated Marcus was getting.

  “What does it feel like? How much force do you need? I’m going to kill them all!” Rocky kept going “Hameed told me their heads are all mushy?”

  “Will you shut up!” Marcus snapped, catching hold of the weapon Rocky was swinging around “And stop pissing around with that before you hurt one of us”

  Rocky bit his lip, dropped head down and walked on. Seamus slapped Marcus on his shoulder laughing.

  “Kids? You have to admire their enthusiasm my friend”

  Hameed came into view, on the edge of the field, and behind him, the dead followed as planned, Marcus and Seamus picked up their pace the sooner they got to Hameed the sooner they could get this show on the road, also the further they got away from the other group the more time and space they would have to fall back into. Rocky slunk behind, suddenly not the self-assured teenager he was moments before.

  “Come on kid, you’re going to kill them all? Right?” Marcus encouraged.

  Frances turned to face the oncoming dead. Aligning herself with Drew, Paul and Matty.

  “Keep them at arm’s length, don’t let them too close” barked Paul “We use their pace, back away slowly as they fall, they will trip over each other and filter in dribs and drabs”

  Drew nodded his acknowledgment. He swallowed deeply and prepared to swing his club.

  A foray of blows hammered down into the pack, one after the other, Seamus and Hameed on the left of the four, Marcus and Rocky on the right. Blow after blow, heads caved under the force, with ease the bone structure of the dead indeed like mush as Rocky described.

  Rocky connected with a dead man tearing its face off, destroying its eye socket and nose, still it kept coming, its brain still intact, its exposed jawbone gnashing at air involuntarily, seeking the flesh of the living. Rocky was taken aback he lost his footing and stumbled falling onto his backside.

  Paul was continuing to shout instructions to his group, they were making steady progress in thinning the numbers out, they had managed to spread a little bit apart, to eliminate the possibility of becoming outflanked. With every blow Drew was feeling more and more comfortable. He thought that this was becoming normal as he removed the club from another of the walking cadavers’ head. He looked around himself for a brief moment, the amount of bodies piled up was beyond belief, there must have been a hundred. Maybe more, that was just from four people. This is the world they lived in now, this is how it must be, they could never go back to the way it was.

  The monster’s teeth were inching closer and closer to Rocky’s face, he tried to bring up his club, but he could not. The dead man was pressing on him, its saliva drooling from its mouth. Dripping onto his face, Rocky tried pushing it away, but its weight forced it down further. Others were backing up on top.

  The spiked end of the club, exited the side of its skull, penetrating the brain. And embedded into the soil. The lifeless form slumped and pinned Rocky down.

  “Stay there” Marcus instructed. Leaving the spike in the ground. He raised his billhook and strode into the horde.

  The last one fell. Drew could feel the sweat dripping off him. His arms ached but he felt exhilarated, the adrenaline and testosterone had totally taken him over. He had enjoyed himself. He had enjoyed killing. The four of them shared high fives with each other.

  Marcus slashed at another, slicing a part of its head off and more importantly its brain. Blood splashing his face. Still he moved on, in the zone, taking out one after the other, leaving a trail of destruction as he pushed forward over the ground, stepping over the fallen bodies, stopping the dead’s progress, he was so quick nothing could touch him. The dead had no time to react. They were felled before they could even raise a hand.

  Seamus watched on in awe as Marcus single handed finished of the mass, he could not believe what he was witnessing. This man was crazy, his lack of concern about his own wellbeing. His willingness at putting his life on the line, this guy was either brave or dangerous. Or a combination of both.

  Marcus looked down at himself, covered head to toe in blood, the thick dark oozy liquid, falling off his hands and arms, his billhook coated in a sheen of red.

  The field looked like a sea of death, the ground stained in the blood, brain, and guts of the rotting, the brutality of what had just occurred, justified by the need to protect others. The barbaric logic of kill or be killed now the manta to live by. This field could never be used again, the bodies would be left to decompose further into the soil. Tainting the land, poising the earth.

  Marcus walked back passed the others, Seamus patting him on the shoulder has he went by and although he still did not like him. Marcus had earned it. RESPECT

  He let him go, he had done enough, the threat of killing his parents, his brother, his baby sister if he disobeyed him. The boy was 7 years old. He had already given up the names of his campmates, and the promise of information on the newcomers.

  He was satisfied, under the title PREY he wrote down the names, he would cross them back off until he had found the perfect candidate. The boy’s family were already deleted, as gratitude for the help. As was Eileen the old lady and Clifford the ageing gentleman, he had needed a prime subject. One who would offer a challenge. This was going to be easy he thought, One would be proud.

  He sat back, to relax and bask in the sunlight that was breaking through the canopy above him. As if the sun appreciated his work his glory.

  “Dad!” yelled William as he pulled himself from the bush “There’s someone in there watching us”

  14

  They were greeted with an ear-splitting shriek as they returned from the fields. Tired and covered in gore. The fatigue from their recent exertions replaced once again with adrenaline. The campers were rushing around in sheer panic they picked up the pace to a run. Matty lagging with the golf bag.

  They entered the pandemonium; people were running back and forth between the medical tent and to Omar’s family tent. They ran into a tall scrawny man Drew had not seen before.

  “Dieter?” Seamus began concern in his voice “Dieter, what’s happened?”

  The guy tried to reply, his thick South African accent struggling through the fear in his voice

  “The boy” he was frozen, Seamus shrugged him away.

  The old man Clifford was hurrying along carrying blankets stained in deep red blood.

  “Cliff what’s going on?” Drew asked this time. As they were treading through the maze of ropes and pegs.

  “Omar’s boy”

  This is all Drew needed to hear. Something terrible had clearly just happened. And to a child too. Outside the tent Connor and Jeremiah were looking in the bush at something. Maybe one of the dead had broken off from the group when Hammed and Frances split them? Suddenly Omar thrust the tent door open. Blood on his hands, all over his t-shirt. He wiped his eyes smearing the blood across his face. Tears streaming down his cheeks. Drew did not speak; he opened the tent. Inside the scene was so horrific at first it made him turn away.

  Rachel sat on the floor cradling her son William in her arms, whilst Hannah was trying in to attempt to stem the bleeding. With every heartbeat the blood pulsated from the open wound across the boy’s throat. A waterfall of blood cascading from his body, instantly turning the blankets red as the body depleted itself onto Hannah’s trembling hands.

  Drew looked around once more. Rachel was in hysterics, gripping Williams lifeless as if her love and hurt a
lone could bring him back. Out the corner of his eye, he could see little Cayla standing up at the side of her Winnie the Pooh travel cot. Gripping on tightly, A witness to this tragedy, forever the death of her brother will be ingrained into her soul. Drew picked her up. “Shh shh” he tried calming her bobbing her up and down, aware he had no idea what to do with children but at the same time knew he could not leave her there.

  Marcus poked his head in at the bloodbath. He too had to look away, before helping Hannah to her feet. She held him tightly. Transferring the blood onto him her stained hand printing her palm onto his shirt. He pulled her close putting his hand onto her head and held her for a moment to his chest. Before leading her back outside. Distraught.

  “Seamus” Marcus called as he handed Hannah into his arms with a nod of acknowledgement and understanding. Seamus took hold of her mouthing “Thank you” back to him.

  Drew brought Cayla over to Omar, the big guy was sat slumped by the tent. His world had begun to crumble around him. No one should ever have to lose a child, a pain so unbearable.

  “I am so sorry” words that don’t mean much, it doesn’t matter how sorry anyone is nothing was bringing William back now. Omar just sat. He did not acknowledge Drew or his daughter.

  “Let me take her” Frances offered; Drew gratefully accepted the help.

  More people had begun to congregate by the bush, peering down and looking for something or someone. The bush was quite thick, so Marcus decided to hack at it with his billhook, a tool which was becoming more and more useful. He swiped hard taking his frustration and anger out, and whatever was in there would appear to have some contributing factor to William’s death. Suddenly something moved, it darted out of the way of the flailing blade edging closer and closer to it.

  “look there he goes” shouted Connor

 

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