Invasion of the Dead (Book 5): Resolve

by Baillie, Owen

  This allowed her to pass by easily. She scurried by him as he tried to stand, then she was moving across the front lawn to the road, glancing back over her shoulder. He’d found his feet and was ambling after her. Tammy hit the blacktop at pace and kept going. She’d lost her water bottles but still had her life. She checked her bare arms for scratches where he’d grabbed at her. They looked clear. She slotted the screwdriver through the buckle in her jeans and walked on. The infected man followed, as though she had taken something, and he wanted it back.

  Another sign on the side of the road said Port Arthur—11 miles. She prayed the next eleven miles weren’t as dangerous as the first.

  40

  January 12, 2014

  11:25 am

  Latrobe, Tasmania

  Skoota did not speak for some time after they left Jace’s house and neither did Leroy. It had been a deeply moving moment, with the older man saying goodbye to one of his best mates. Leroy recognised it without really understanding it because it had been many years since he had a mate as good as Jace—if ever. The more time he spent with Skoota, the more he realised such a mate was what Leroy wanted.

  Skoota sped around the streets, taking out his frustration and anger on the accelerator and steering wheel. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact location of the junkyard, but he knew the general direction from which he’d come. He found the fields he’d run across and explained to Leroy what had happened in the final few moments when he’d left the women and promised to return. It gave Leroy a greater insight into why Skoota was so hell-bent on saving them.

  When they finally found the junkyard’s location, Skoota slowed the car to a walking pace along the road that formed a loop around the site. The fence was chain wire and about eight feet high. Undergrowth hugged the base, and a sea of ivy clung to the links of it, covering their view into the yard except for the odd thin patch. The infected were spread out along its two-hundred-yard length, clustering in small sections as they sought to get inside.

  “Can’t see a bloody thing,” Skoota said, driving down the white line in the middle of the road.

  Leroy watched the infected. Some fixated on the ivy growing on the fence, others wandered back and forth in a kind of circuit. One or two fed on bodies lying on the littered sidewalk.

  When the lot ceased and turned into a transport business, Skoota pulled into the next driveway then drove back the other way. This time, one infected caught sight of the vehicle and watched them drive by. After a few moments, it began to follow.

  Skoota went past the edge of the property to the point the road began to curve away from the lot. He stopped the car and pulled on the handbrake, then got out.

  “What’re you doing?” Leroy asked.

  “I wanna show you something.”

  They stood in the long grass on the side of the road. Ahead, a wide field greeted them, and in the distance, wire fences surrounded broad properties. Skoota began walking towards the field. Leroy hesitated and then followed.

  When Skoota stopped, Leroy looked up to find the big man pointing into the distance. “See that?” He followed the hand. “That’s the yard.”

  Leroy scanned the area beyond one of the fences in the distance. Figures moved behind the fence. “There are infected in there.”

  “Yeah. I thought they might do something like that,” Skoota said, rubbing his beard. “That’s where I jumped the fence. I was hoping we could climb back over there and sneak our way in, but doesn’t look like it’s to be.” They watched a moment longer. “Let’s go,” Skoota said. “I’ve got another idea.”

  They climbed back into the car and drove back along the perimeter of the yard. The single infected that had started following them turned as they drove past and continued its venture. Leroy found it strange that the thing could keep focused on them like that.

  Skoota took them all the way to the other end of the property and around into the street that led to the front gate, where he parked some distance away. “We’re getting out.”

  “To do what?”

  “Go for a closer look.”

  Leroy hesitated again, but after a few moments, realised Skoota would not let him sit in the car. He had to admit he was scared to leave its safety. He had come close to death the day before, and he was in no hurry to face it again. But he had to support Skoota if he was going to develop the friendship he craved.

  They armed themselves with a shotgun each and started along the road towards the big main gates. There were fewer infected here, and they weren’t bothering Leroy and Skoota yet. Halfway there, though, Leroy stopped. He just couldn’t shake the feeling of danger.

  “What’s wrong?” Skoota asked.

  “I just don’t like this.” He looked ahead towards one of the infected. “We’re out in the open.”

  “My friend,” Skoota said, “you better get used to being exposed. It’s a daily occurrence and part of life now.”

  “I know, but…”

  “Think of those ladies over that fence. They’re being held in the dark in a bloody rusty old fuel tank. They probably haven’t been fed in days. Who knows what else has happened to them?”

  Leroy hated saying it, but the words came out before he could stop them. “Exactly. What if they’re dead? And we’re wasting our time?”

  Skoota came back towards him. “I get that you’ve got no real connection to them. You haven’t met them, and you don’t know what a good bunch they are. But this is where the whole mateship thing comes in. You’re doing this for me. You’re here because I need your help. Understand?”

  Leroy did. More than ever now.

  The main entrance gates to the junkyard were thick, rusted steel that looked like something out of a Mad Max movie. The flat panels had no holes where you might loop a chain through, and the locking mechanism was on the other side. There were no infected there, but several loitered nearby, so the pair hid behind a vacant car until the dead wandered further away. Leroy was happy to stay hidden, but Skoota waved him on and approached the entrance.

  Skoota placed a flat palm against the left gate and pushed, using his legs. The thing didn’t even groan or flex.

  “No use,” Skoota said, turning to face the street. “And now I’m here, I don’t like this narrow end, anyway. If we broke in through here, getting out might become an issue.”

  They drove back past the lot for the third time, both men focused on the road ahead as Skoota spoke. “We go to the back of the lot again and see if we can find a way in without getting caught by those infected. Maybe we’ll just have to shoot our way in.”

  It was Leroy, watching the high, scrubby perimeter as the car moved slowly along the street who noticed the infected milling at a particular point. Once they drove past, he saw them now moving back the other way. Something was going on.

  “Wait,” he said, putting a hand on Skoota’s arm. “Go back.”

  Skoota only glanced at him. “I think we’ve established there’s no way in along here.”

  “No, Skoota,” Leroy said, peering into the side mirror. “Something’s not right. They’re moving back that way. Something’s drawing them.”

  Leroy glanced up at the rear-view mirror. He slowed the car. “They’re going back?” Leroy nodded. “You think something’s there?”

  “I think there’s something happening at that spot on the other side of that fence.” Skoota spun the car in a wide arc, climbing carefully up onto the curb and then rolling off it with a thump. “Go slow,” Leroy added. “There.” He pointed about seventy yards ahead. “Just near that thing lying in the gutter.”

  Skoota judged the safest distance without alerting the zombies, pulled the car against the curb, and let it idle. There was definitely a congregation of infected at a point along the fence where the brush grew thicker. Zombies from both ends of the street ambled towards it.

  “I’m telling you,” Leroy said, “Something is happening on the other side of that fence.”

  Two infected passed the car on the oppo
site sidewalk. They had no interest in the men or their vehicle. They lurched along where the grass grew between wide cracks. “You might be on to something.” Skoota pulled on the brake again and turned off the car. “Let’s check it out.”

  Hunched over, shotguns in hand, they jogged along the far side of the street, using parked vehicles and business signage as cover. Skoota led the way and Leroy tried to keep up, watching for tripping hazards, as broken chunks of concrete lined their path and tufts of litter had blown in from down the street.

  From behind the wire, a gunshot sounded.

  Skoota pulled up behind the tireless wreck of another vehicle, hunkering down and peering through a grimy front passenger window. From there, they had a good observation point at the spot along the fence where the zombies had congregated. Vines and small brush covered the wire, but in patches, light shone through from the other side.

  “What now?” Leroy asked.

  “We watch and listen.”

  It wasn’t long before the fence started shaking.

  “They’re cutting it,” Skoota said. “See that?”

  There were two people on the other side of the fence, where the infected had congregated. They started getting agitated, pushing forth to get inside. The fence began to ripple and shake again and then a long, vertical slice opened up. A woman’s face appeared. One of the zombies lurched forward and slammed into the fence.

  “Is that them?” Leroy asked. “Your friends?”

  “I think so. It looks like Juliet.”

  The cutting started again, and someone held a stick over the fence, prodding the zombie and managing to keep it back a yard or so. Then the fence fell forward like a big flap. A man and a woman leapt away with cutters in hand.

  The people inside had disappeared, and the infected moved in like patrons at a football finals match, jostling to get to the front of the queue. The third one tripped and went down—the others trampled over it.

  “Move,” Skoota said. They jogged along the street closer and took shelter behind the next car.

  Through the gaps in the ivy, shapes and colours moved on the other side of the barrier. Someone shouted.

  “Do we go?” Leroy asked. His senses buzzed and his stomach was turning. He knew what was coming.

  Zombies poured into the lot through the opening. Others came from both directions along the street. “Not yet.”

  A man began to scream. A dozen infected had walked into the lot now, but there were still thirty or so pushing to get through the opening. The frantic shouts of voices inside floated to them. Leroy and Skoota could see men fighting the zombies with sticks and tools.

  “They’re a bunch of kidnapping pricks,” Skoota said. “I can’t see any of the girls.” He took several steps to the left. “No, wait. There’s Sam. He’s fighting with one of the bad guys.”

  “What do we do, then?”

  “We’d run out of ammo before getting through half of them. We wait until they clear a few of them out and then get inside, see if we can rescue the ladies.”

  Both men watched from the other side of the street, holding their shotguns tight. They moved a few steps until Leroy gained a better view of the fighting, men using hammers and garden tools to attack and defend themselves. Each man appeared to be overwhelmed, having to fight off more than one zombie at a time.

  “Part of me wants to help them,” Leroy said. “They’re getting slaughtered.”

  “I know. But they’re the scum of the earth and don’t deserve our help.”

  Skoota shuffled to the faded white line in the middle of the road, and Leroy followed. Here the view was even better, and they could see further into the lot. The man Skoota called Sam was on his feet again and fighting.

  “Those two,” Skoota said, pointing the gun through the gap, “are the ring leaders.” A man wearing black jeans with a ponytail and another with a red bandana arrived on the safe side of the attack. “I hope those two pricks get eaten alive.”

  The one with the Ponytail began shooting the infected, and they collapsed to the dirt. But it would take much more than a shot here or there, Leroy thought. The infected appeared to be winning the battle. Many of the men were in submission, either lying on the ground wresting, limping clear of the ruckus, or wriggling away for safety. The guy with the red bandana dashed for the opening in the fence.

  Leroy raised his shotgun and took several steps forward. “If this prick closes the fence, I’ll shoot him.”

  “You won’t have to. He’s not gonnna make it.”

  The infected dragged the man onto his knees; a gruesome-looking thing that Leroy couldn’t tell was a woman or man hung off his arm. The man reached out, fell short of the fence and went down face first. Skoota lowered his weapon. More gunfire sounded. He lifted it again. One of the blonde women came into view. Skoota took two more steps and reached the gutter.

  “We going in?” Leroy asked.

  “Be ready.”

  Another woman appeared, older, with dark hair and glasses. She ran for the opening. Beyond, one of the infected got hold of the man with the ponytail and burrowed into his chest. The one Skoota had called Sam went down, and the blonde woman was caught in the middle of the battle.

  “Lock and load,” Skoota said.

  Leroy’s guts tightened as he clamped his hands around the shotgun and stood straight. “Just promise me one thing,” Skoota grunted. “Finish me off so I don’t turn into one of them if I get bitten.”

  “Same for me, mate.”

  They ran for the opening.

  41

  January 12, 2014

  11:39 am

  Latrobe, Tasmania

  Before she could consciously decide, Juliet’s actions had unconsciously taken her towards Sam. She stepped around the bodies on the dusty earth, leapt over others and ran with desperation to assist Sam in his fight.

  The infected man lay on Sam, its scabby hands around his throat, both arms bent at the elbows and fighting to get closer to Sam’s neck. Red-faced, with spittle around his mouth, Sam was doing all he could with both arms outstretched to stop the thing from reaching its goal.

  The infected was in perfect position for Juliet to attack. She skidded to a stop beside it and slammed the chunk of branch into the side of its head. The weapon jarred in her hands, and the sickly man slumped aside. Sam scrambled backwards on his palms, boots kicking and scratching for purchase in the dust. The infected turned on her, bulging eyes wide, as though it had just identified the finest meal it could imagine. Juliet felt rage boil up, and she leapt forward, slamming the wood into its face with an anguished cry.

  It fell back with a fresh, bloody gash on its mouldy cheek, and Juliet followed it to the ground, hitting it across the back of the head. Every ounce of anger she had felt the last few days seemed to converge into this moment. She thought of Deidre and Tara, and all the others who had lost their lives. Her arms moved up and down like a piston, clubbing the face and head of the infected. But Juliet didn’t see it; she didn’t see anything outside of the pain and loss in her mind’s eye. She didn’t feel the ache in her arm or her back, and she didn’t hear Sam calling for her to stop. The thing that drew her out of the trance was Meg screaming.

  Juliet’s arms fell aside, and she was suddenly aware of the fatigue in her lungs and arms. Turning, she found Meg under attack about fifteen yards away.

  As she ran towards Meg with Sam following, she avoided gored and beaten bodies that lay scattered about like empty beer bottles after a festival. Streaks of blood and entrails splattered over the dusty ground. One man hobbled away, holding a bloody arm. The numbers on both sides had diminished, but the infected still outnumbered the men two-to-one. She passed Red Bandana lying still. His glassy eyes stared up at the hot sky as three zombies feasted on different parts of his body. Probably what he deserved.

  Meg lay tangled in a hug with an infected woman who looked eerily similar, except for the lesions covering her pale skin. Meg kept screaming, blaring for someone to hel
p. They rolled twice as Meg beat her fists on the back of the woman’s head, but the thing did not loosen its grip.

  Juliet took to Meg’s attacker, clobbering the zombie on the back of the head with the stumpy length of tree branch. But this time, it had no impact. With competing efforts, Meg and the infected had twisted together as one, Meg working to keep it away from her face, the zombie biting and missing her skin. Sam gave it a kick with the heel of his boot. Juliet followed it with a big swing that struck the thing underneath the chin, and it finally lost its grip. Meg pushed it off and crawled free.

  Sam’s cry drew her attention. Juliet turned and saw Ponytail take him down with a rugby tackle. Meg screamed again. The thing they had beaten off her moments ago had locked onto her ankle. A second female voice cried out. Jess and Lory fought their own battles. Jess was in the greatest trouble, so Juliet ran for her. She danced around one body, then another, but as she leapt over the third, it sat up, taking her legs out and knocking her sideways. She crashed to the ground on her shoulder and struck the side of her head. The world spun momentarily. She pushed onto her knees and started to crawl away, but something grabbed at her leg. She kicked out and her foot came free, but the thing was faster than she expected and locked a bony hand around her calf. Ahead, a large infected man had crawled on top of Lory.

  “Lory! Get out of there!”

  Juliet kicked again, but the thing wouldn’t shake loose. The last thing she saw of Lory was the infected man with a hand around her throat.

  She turned to face her own attacker, who had climbed up her legs and was almost on top of her. Juliet pushed both hands out, feeling the thin cavity of its chest. The smell made her gag. A skeletal face looked back at her, eyes bulging, sullied mouth chomping. There was nothing behind those eyes, no hint of humanity. Whatever the virus had done, it had obliterated every last ounce of the person’s soul. But their strength was equal. Holding the thing back, Juliet turned her head. Lory was dead. Jess was still fighting to keep from being bitten. She saw Meg’s dormant arm at the edge of her vision. And there was no sign of Sam. For all she knew, Ponytail had killed him. It might have been the end for all of them.