by Lee, Damien
“Let’s pick him up,” Amy said.
“Are you crazy? He might’ve been bitten. What if he becomes one of them?”
“We can’t leave him out here.”
They watched the man run to the window as they slowed to a stop.
“Thank god.” He panted. “Please, help me. I crashed my car and—”
“Are you hurt?” Ben interrupted.
“What?”
“Have you been bitten?”
“Oh, no.” He raised his arms and turned around to support his statement.
“Okay, get in.”
“Thank you.”
The man jumped into the back of the car. As soon as the door slammed shut, they took off once more.
“Thank you so much,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow.
“No problem.” Amy smiled, turning in her seat. “What’s your name?”
“Glen. Glen Reeves.”
“Nice to meet you, Glen, I’m Amy and this is Ben.”
Ben nodded, eyeing the dishevelled man in the rear-view mirror. The smell of cannabis quickly became apparent, and Amy was glad they had their windows down.
“So what happened?” She asked, eying the man’s oversized clothes.
“I was trying to get away from all those freaks. I didn’t think there would be any out here, but I was wrong.”
“How did you crash?”
“I hit a bloody farmer in the middle of the road.”
Amy looked back at the distant wreckage. “I didn’t see a farmer?”
“That’s because he was stuck to my bumper. Once I hit him, I veered off the road and smashed into a frigging rock. Next thing I know there’s smoke coming out of the bonnet and I got out before it went up in flames.”
“What about the guy you hit?”
“What about him?”
“Was he alive? Or was he one of them?”
“After I hit him and crashed into the rock, I could hear him snarling underneath the car. Even when it caught fire, he was still growling.”
Amy looked at him wide-eyed.
“So where did you come from?” Ben asked, breaking the silence that had formed.
“Bealsdon.”
“How bad is it there?”
“Real bad.”
“Where were you heading?”
“Anywhere. I just want to find out what the hell’s going on.”
“Don’t we all. How much do you know?”
“Nothing! The only time I realised there was anything wrong was when Mrs. Cropley burst in while I was in the bath!”
“Who’s Mrs. Cropley?” Amy asked.
“The old dear who lives next door to me. She kept trying to bite me. Luckily, she didn’t have her false teeth in.”
Ben snorted, shaking his head as he drove.
“Anyway, I got past her and saw two blokes coming up the stairs. So I got out the window and ran down the road completely starkers!”
Amy tried hard to suppress her amusement, but as soon as Ben started laughing, she couldn’t help but join in.
“It wasn’t funny,” Glen said. “I had to steal these clothes off somebody’s washing line.”
He tugged at his shirt in disgust. At that point, Amy felt the laughter cripple her. Her chest felt tight as tears streamed down her face.
“Oh, I’m glad you find it so funny.” He pouted, looking out of the window.
“Sorry,” Amy replied, wiping the tears from her eyes. “But it’s laugh or cry in this situation.”
“Looks like you’re doing both.”
She nodded, wiping her eyes as she composed herself. “So how did you end up in your car?”
“I made my way back home so I could get my own clothes. But as soon as I got through the front door, Mrs. Cropley came racing down the stairs! So I grabbed my keys and jumped in my car. Now here I am.”
“Well, it’s good to have you with us, Glen. I just wish we could have saved more people.”
“Me too. I don’t know how many times I drove past people getting eaten. I should’ve stopped to help.”
“It wouldn’t have done any good,” Ben said. “Once you’re bitten, you’re dead.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, we think so. Then you turn into one of those things.”
“Is there no way to cure it?”
“None that we know of.”
“Shit.”
They fell silent briefly before Glen spoke once more. “I don’t suppose any of you have a light?” He raised a rolled cigarette into view, looking between the pair who both shook their head.
“Sorry,” Amy said.
Glen sighed and sat back in the chair, placing the cigarette behind his ear. “So where are we going?” he muttered.
“My grandparents have a farm near here. They’ve tried ringing me, so I’m hoping it’s safe there.”
“And what if it isn’t?”
Amy didn’t answer. She had experienced enough grief for one day. The prospect of her grandparents being dead was something she did not want to face.
“Take a left here,” she said, noticing they were nearing the farm.
The car turned onto the track, creating a plume of dust as it went. Amy strained her neck to catch a glimpse of the building. On an ordinary summer day, she could see the small house in the distance. But with the last light far behind them, all she could see were dark fields. She sat back in her chair, winding up the window as a chill swept over her arms.
“Doesn’t look bad,” Glen said.
“I’m not sure,” Ben replied. He motioned towards a broken wall as they passed. Tyre tracks were present on the field encased within the brick wall, with mud spatter clear on the road. Whoever had been driving had come off the field and onto the road they were now travelling on. Once again, Amy looked for her grandparents’ house.
“Is it much further?” Ben asked. “We can’t travel in the dark. I can’t see a thing out here.”
“Take your next right and it’s a straight road up to the house.”
“But what are we gonna do if there’s any trouble?” Glen asked.
“They’ll be there. They called from their house phone.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Amy ignored the comment, keeping her gaze fixed outside.
“We’ll sort out any issues when we get there,” Ben said. “Either way, we’ll have to spend the night.”
He slowed the car as the right turn neared. Amy looked across at her grandparents’ farm, just as an almighty thud struck the roof.
“Jesus!” Glen cried.
The car swerved as another impact came from the side. Amy spun around and saw a large man disappear from view. She gripped onto the door handle as the car swerved onto the lane leading up to her grandparents’ house.
“How many are out there?” Glen whimpered as a hand smacked the window. Ben ignored him. The narrow beam of the headlights danced over the uneven ground. Amy gasped as a snarling man appeared, blocking their path. Ben floored the accelerator, sending the zombie reeling high into the air. The impact caused a headlight to shatter, plunging the left side of the track into darkness.
“Shit!” Ben spat.
They flinched as another loud bang came from the roof.
“It’s on top of the car!” Glen shrieked, cowering on the back seat.
With that, a body landed on the windshield. The man’s wide eyes stared at them as he clung to the bonnet.
“I can’t see!” Ben raged. Amy looked around helplessly as more snarling faces flashed past. She tried hard to think of a way out, but with so many undead surrounding them, they would be dead for sure if they stopped. She stared at the man on their windscreen, as a loud crack obliterated his head. Blood spattered over the glass as the body slid from the car. Moments later, a second gunshot echoed from the house.
“It’s my grandpa!” Amy cried as the zombies running alongside them began to fall.
“I still can’t see.” Ben turned the wipers on, bu
t the blades smeared the blood further across the windscreen.
“There’s still some left!” Glen shouted as another gunshot filled the air.
Ben sprayed water onto the screen. The red liquid started to become transparent as the wipers dashed over the window. Their view ahead was clear, the remaining headlight lit up a vehicle right in front of them. Amy shrieked, bracing herself for impact as the car smashed into the stationary Land Rover. The collision threw her forward. She hit the dashboard hard, sending a wave of pain sweeping through her body.
She groaned, clutching her head as the gunshots continued to ring out. She glanced across at Ben, who was slumped over the steering wheel.
“Ben?”
He didn’t respond. She reached across to him, searching for a pulse. Another gunshot resonated.
“Ben.”
She heard movement behind her. Turning, she saw Glen looking out the windows, his quick head movements resembling a meerkat.
“They’re gone,” he said. “Let’s get the hell outta here.”
He threw open the door and jumped outside. Amy turned back to Ben and placed a hand on his chest. It rose steadily in time with his breathing.
“Thank god,” Amy muttered.
The driver’s door swung open.
“C’mon, we need to go.” Glen urged. “They’ve opened the door for us.”
“Ben’s unconscious. We can’t leave him.”
Glen turned back to the house. “We need help to get this guy in!”
Amy’s eyes narrowed as a female voice sounded from the farmhouse.
“Frank, we need you.”
The voice seemed unfamiliar, but she could not get a look at the woman. Amy stepped out of the car, her head throbbing as she got to her feet. The sound of hurried footsteps from the house caught her attention. She stared at the rugged gunman as he approached the car, muttering under his breath.
“Who are you?” She demanded.
The man paid her no heed as he leaned into the car. He came back up moments later, dragging Ben across the ground.
“Who are you?” she repeated, following them towards the house.
“Shut up and get inside! I can’t shoot those fuckers with this prick in my arms.” With that, he dragged Ben over the threshold and vanished from sight.
“Come on,” Glen said, pulling on her sleeve as he made for the house.
Amy followed, noticing another unfamiliar person in the doorway.
“You must be Amy,” the woman said.
“Yeah, who the hell are you? Where are my grandparents?”
“Let’s go inside, there could be more out here.”
Reluctantly, Amy stepped into the house. She watched the young woman slide all the locks into place.
“Everyone’s in the living room.” The woman said, sweeping her blonde hair out of her face.
“Where are my grandparents?”
Before she could get an answer, a confrontation sounded in the next room.
“Three people! What are we running, a hotel?”
Amy recognised the voice as that belonging to the gunman. She walked into the living room as he rounded on Glen.
“So which one of you is the boyfriend?” He raged, looking between the trembling man and the unconscious guard on the floor.
“What do you mean boyfriend?” Amy snapped, crouching down to Ben’s aid. His pulse felt normal, and the rise and fall of his chest comforted her. She pinched his arm, but he didn’t respond.
“Is he dead?” Glen asked.
“One of you get me a light.” Amy looked from face to face until the unknown woman disappeared into the kitchen. She returned seconds later with a torch. Amy took it without words and lifted Ben’s eyelid, shining the beam over his pupil.
“What are you, a nurse?” the rugged man asked.
“Yes,” Amy replied as Ben started to move. She looked up at the gunman. “Where are my grandparents?”
The rage in his eyes depleted, and at once Amy knew their fate. She looked back at Ben as he raised a hand to his head. He blinked hard, wincing as his fingers roamed over a gash in his hair.
“More company?” The query came from a dark-haired teenager who had appeared in the doorway.
“Yeah,” the gunman replied. “The granddaughter and her boyfriends.”
Amy ignored the remark as she helped Ben sit up.
“What happened?” he groaned.
“We crashed into a car.”
“Whoa, have they trashed the fat twat’s Land Rover?” the teenager asked excitedly as she made her way to the window.
“Yeah, it’s completely written off.” The gunman sneered.
The teenager snorted as Ben got to his feet.
“Who are you lot?” he asked, eyeing the people in a daze.
“We’re the ones who saved you,” the blonde woman told him. “I’m Lisa, this is Frank, and that’s Tina.”
Amy looked around at the familiar surroundings of her childhood. Everything was the way she remembered it. Framed photographs were fixed around the fireplace. Many of the beaming faces belonged to her. The old oak coffee table stood proud in the middle of the room; the centrepiece surrounded by the rest of the furniture. The worn sofa that had been there longer than her years was still pointed towards the aged TV set. Then her gaze fell on the lone armchair; her grandfather’s ‘throne’ as he so often called it. A pang of grief gripped her stomach. She tried to dismiss it, focusing instead on the continuing conversation.
“That was some pretty reckless driving,” Frank said, eyeing Ben with distaste. “I’m guessing you’re a taxi driver?”
“Security,” Ben retorted. “What about you? Gunslinger? Cowboy?”
“Serial killer, actually.”
The remark came from an obese man as he, and a chubby woman, joined them in the living room. Amy looked from the couple back to Frank.
“You’re a serial killer?”
“Aren’t we all? You must’ve killed your fair share of zombies by now?”
“None.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised. I’m guessing you’ve had your bodyguard here doing all the dirty work.”
Ben lunged forward but stopped short when the man forced a shotgun beneath his chin.
“Play nice doggie, or you’ll be put down,” Frank said.
Amy grabbed Ben’s arm, willing him not to continue. After a tense silence, he tipped his head back and returned to her side.
“Good boy. Now if you want to stay here, you have to help out.”
“With what?” Amy asked.
“Put it this way, your grandparents were hardly stocking up when this zombie epidemic hit. We need supplies. First thing tomorrow, we’re heading to the nearest town and ransacking it. If you want to stay here, you’ll help.”
“Not likely,” Ben replied. “At first light, we’re leaving.”
Frank glared at the man. After a few seconds, he raised the shotgun again.
“If you’re not going to help us, then I see no use for you.”
“What’re you gonna do? Kill us?”
“No. I’ll give you five seconds to leave. After that then, yes, I’ll kill you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Really? What if I tell you this fat cunt wasn’t lying when he said I was a killer?” He motioned towards the chubby man stood by the kitchen.
“I wasn’t,” the man urged, shaking his head rapidly. “He’s from Harrodale.”
Amy looked back at the gunman who grinned smugly at Ben.
“Make no mistake; I’ll blow your head off without thinking twice.”
Before Ben could answer, she butted in.
“Okay, we might help you. But first, answer me this; did you kill my grandparents?”
Frank scoffed, lowering the shotgun once more.
“Your grandmother was already dead when we got here. Soon after, your grandfather killed himself.”
The news hurt. But Amy had experienced far too much grief for the shock to
sink in.
“Where are they?”
She watched as he nodded towards the window. “With the rest of the dead.”
Amy closed her eyes. She exhaled slowly as she turned back to the two men.
“Okay, we’ll stay the night, and we’ll help them,” she whispered, trying to stop the tears from flooding her eyes.
“What?” Ben spat. “I’m not risking our lives going into town when it doesn’t benefit us.”
“Shh! It does benefit us.”
“How?”
“We can’t get very far without transport, can we?”
Ben looked towards the window, realisation showing on his face.
“Your car is in no fit state to drive,” Amy continued. “I say we go to town, we help them out, get a few things for ourselves and take a car while we’re there.”
Ben and Glen nodded. Amy turned to face the rest of the room.
“Okay, we’ll help you,” she said. “But can we please stop all this negativity? We’re in this together, right?”
“Right,” Lisa smiled. “We’re not bad people. Even Frank here has a pleasant side.”
The man twisted his face into a sickly grin before rolling his eyes.
“Let’s just be civil to each other from now on.”
“That’s fair enough,” Amy said. “So where can we sleep?”
“Wherever you want.” Frank shrugged, sitting down in the armchair.
“Can I take my grandparents’ room?”
“Sure.”
“What?” the obese man gasped. “After everything we went through to clean that damn room?”
“What can I say?” Frank said. “It was her grandparents’ house. If she wants to sleep there, she can.”
“This is ridiculous!”
“Okay, we’re gonna turn in,” Amy announced over the man’s indignant grumblings. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow.” She motioned for her two companions to follow her.
“Go on, I’ll be up in a sec,” Ben said.
Amy looked back at him with a frown. “Fair enough, are you coming, Glen?”
He nodded, following her to the doorway, but Amy didn’t leave. She turned, watching as Ben stepped forward.
“Got a problem, friend?” Frank asked from the armchair.
“I don’t know yet.” Ben sat on the edge of the coffee table to face Frank. “If we help you, you have to help us.”