“What are you going to do?”
“Hey, Scar, trust him. Please?” Quinlan said. “The less you know the better.”
“I’ll be back soon, Scar. There’s one more thing I need to do.” Riley looked at Quinlan, “Could you give us a minute?”
Quinlan nodded and left the room, laying a hand reassuringly on Scarlett’s shoulder as he walked past her. Riley waited until the door was closed before he spoke.
“Scar, we should talk about what happened.” To his dismay, he watched guilt sweep across Scarlett’s face. “I’m sorry if I took advantage of you. I get that you’re probably full of regret right now, and I hate that it’s my fault--”
“I don’t regret it.”
Riley stared back at her, “Really?”
“You didn’t take advantage; you stopped after you kissed me, remember? You brought me back to my senses. It was like being slapped in the face, only more fun.”
“Scarlett,” Riley said, taking her hands, “you and that little boy sleeping over there mean everything to me. I’m going to do whatever it takes to protect you both.”
“Riley, I’m so scared that you’re planning something that’ll get you killed.”
“Hey, I’ll be fine. I have to go.”
With that, Riley landed a slow kiss on her lips, grabbed his bag, and left.
Outside, Riley snuck to the back of the building and snipped a hole in the wire fence. Armed with only a pistol, he began jogging toward the treeline.
Travis
They couldn’t wait for the sun. Not with the noise from the satellite. In truth, Travis was surprised that they hadn’t been overrun already. He was now armed with Scarlett’s axe and ready for a fight. He and Vaughan shunted the beaten fuel tank out of the way along with the heavy, broken panels of wood, and waited while the others gathered around the gap in the fence.
Travis stared as they approached. A sudden and very real threat to the lives of everybody at Homeside.
They were running; teeth bared, a chorus of rasping, the thwacking of branches on flesh, and sticks snapping under their clumsy but fast feet.
Travis and the others stood ready for them. A few metres ahead, a creature got its foot tangled in a root. It fell, and two directly behind fell too.
They were down only briefly though, and before Travis could try and process how many there were, they were face-to-face with them. Their veiny, mottled skin and their seeing eyes were something that, after years of shambling, slow, blind and lumbering Roamers, no one could get used to.
Homeside’s residents set to work on defending their home; hacking into craniums, firing between eyes, stamping on the heads of those that toppled on the uneven ground.
No discussion was necessary. Everyone knew their own strengths and they were winning. None had yet crossed the threshold, despite their speed.
On the frontline, Travis swung Scarlett’s M48 down on the creatures’ heads until it felt like the veins in his arm and shoulder were pumping sulfuric acid in place of blood, and Piper pierced relentlessly through eyes, under chins, into ears with her push dagger.
When the last runner fell, they had a few moments to catch their breath and wipe away the sweat and blood. Only the shuffling, decaying Roamers remained, and they had the pile of bodies to contend with before they were able to lay hands on the living.
One made directly for Travis. This one was so putrid that Travis could taste it; the sharp, salty taste of blood caused a wash of stomach acid to burn up Travis’ oesophagus and into his mouth, threatening the return of the venison he’d enjoyed earlier. Something which he hadn’t experienced in a while. It took him by surprise. His eyes were watering, and he momentarily choked on the bile in his mouth. It got too close and Travis dropped the axe. He shoved at the creature, but its pulpy, decayed flesh peeled away like the casing of a sausage, revealing rotted sinew and tissue softer than wet mud. Travis’ fingers sank in, finally meeting the solid bone, allowing something to push against.
He thrust it to the ground and hurriedly took his hunting knife to its head. It slid in as though into warm butter and the creature ceased to move.
Everyone’s hearts sank when they heard another wave of shamblers approaching. Their silhouettes could be seen through the trees, and, although Travis had discovered the people of Homeside to be proficient fighters, he knew that their energy would be waning. He was exhausted too, and they still had to try and repair the fence before anyone could rest.
But their dread was short-lived. In the distance, a single gunshot sounded. The Roamers which were on course for Homeside slowly turned to find the source of the gunfire.
Scarlett
Scarlett fed James, crossed-legged on Riley’s bed. The pit in her stomach would not go away and Quinlan still refused to ease her anxiety by telling her what Riley was doing.
“Can you at least tell me how long this is going to take? What if he gets caught?”
“Relax, Scar,” Quinlan soothed, sitting down next to her. He laid an arm around her shoulder, “As soon as we get the message over the radio, we’ll head to the car and wait for him.”
Having gathered a sizable heard of Roamers from the woods, and relieved to discover that they were only the shambling kind, Riley began a slow walk back to the base.
Once at the fence, and followed a few metres behind by his new friends, he squeezed himself back through the gap he’d made before cable tying it back together.
The Roamers pushed themselves against it, pointlessly snapping their teeth at Riley.
“Don’t go anywhere, guys,” he joked.
In the armoury, grey metal storage units, filled with various military issue weaponry, ran the entire length of one wall, but Riley wasn’t interested in those. He made his way to the back of the room, to a caged off area containing several lockboxes.
Riley flicked through the set of keys, still amazed by the lax security, and let himself in.
His bolt cutters made short work of the locks on the containers, and Riley opened one up to confirm that it contained what he needed. C-4. Lots of it, along with detonators.
Taking a deep breath, Riley closed the lid and made for Grey’s office.
The entire building was eerily quiet, fuelling Riley’s paranoia that someone knew what he was up to. But he couldn’t stop now, not when so much was at risk.
Sneaking around the main building, he placed the lockbox gently on the ground and lifted the lid again. After one last glance around, he began arranging the explosives against the wall.
One last check, he thought. Make sure everyone is sleeping. He would get Scarlett and James out of there without the risk of Grey catching up with them, even if it meant temporarily parting with his morals.
It felt like eternity, but Scarlett almost burst into tears of relief when Riley finally came back. She immediately got to her feet and threw her arms around him. Riley held her against himself.
“I always come back, Scar.”
James was sleeping in a footlocker padded with blankets and Riley knelt down to watch him. He felt an indescribable love for the little being, probably, he thought, because he’d seen him come into the world.
“Alright, Scarlett, I need you and Quinlan to take James.”
“Why?”
“Because I need you to see that it’s really over… but from a distance. When it’s done, I’ll find you and we’ll be on our way.”
Scarlett looked at Quinlan and then back at Riley. She nodded, and Quinlan handed her the baby sling.
After watching Scarlett, Quinlan and James drive away in the green estate that they’d abandoned months earlier outside the base, Riley made his way to as safe a distance as possible.
He laid down behind his appropriated .50 calibre rifle and took aim. As he focused on the detonator sticking out, knowing that it would be no easy task to hit it, he concentrated on what Grey had done to Scarlett. He thought about the threats he’d made; how he'd threatened her life and James’, made her do things sh
e would never have considered before.
He thought about what Grey had made her do to those three people in his office. Isolating her; making her feel as though she had no choice but to endanger herself every single day just so that she could eat.
Exhaling slowly and steadying his hands, Riley squeezed the trigger. The bullet seemed to fly in slow motion, and he held his breath, waiting to see if he’d hit his mark.
The resulting fiery eruption of light and booming sound confirmed that his aim had not been affected by the roar of emotion thrashing around in his head. Seconds later, Riley felt the force of the shock wave reverberate from his chest to every part of his body.
As predicted, the shockwave knocked the flimsy fences down, and the accumulated Roamers were spilling into the grounds.
Dust and debris flew into the air, landing impressive distances from the source. Wood and brick rained down all around Riley. He could see the car in the distance and ran for it, abandoning the rifle and dodging nails which had been unwittingly repurposed as shrapnel.
Chapter Fourteen
Scarlett, Riley and Quinlan left the car and made their way toward the river a few miles from the base. The water was much shallower than they had anticipated, much like every other water source they’d come across recently.
Each removing a canteen from their bags, they knelt at the water’s edge and held their bottles against the current. The water was clear, but Scarlett would insist on cleaning it before they used it, the way she always did.
She used a sock, which she kept obsessively clean, and the top half of a plastic bottle for filtering the dust and dirt out. Stuffing the sock into the make-shift funnel, and placing it lid end down into an empty canteen, Scarlett would pour the gritty water in, waiting patiently for it to filter through the sock and into the canteen. She’d then pour it into a mess tin and boil it over the camping stove, in an attempt to kill any bugs and bacteria.
While she waited for her canteen to fill, Scarlett observed the concrete bridge above them. She estimated it to stand about twenty feet above the river. At each end, the steep, grassy verge looked worn, as though it had been climbed many times before.
Her curiosity got the better of her. She stood and screwed the lid back onto her bottle, hanging it on her bag, before making her way to the bottom of the verge.
“Scar, what are you doing?” Riley probed.
“I’ll be right back.”
Before Riley or Quinlan could stop her, Scarlett began climbing the hill up to the bridge. The ground was dry and dusty, so Scarlett had to go up on all fours to stabilise herself.
“Scarlett!” Riley shouted after her, “You’re carrying James, what if you fall?”
Scarlett could hear the desperation in his voice. She looked down at her chest where James was sleeping soundly in the sling, zipped up under her combat jacket. She had forgotten that he was there.
When Hope was born, Scarlett spent the first six months of her life in the safety of the cottage. She wasn’t accustomed to living outside with a baby. She suddenly realised how much danger the tiny boy was in. They had to find somewhere safe, Scarlett knew that, but the thought of giving up her search made her breath catch in her throat.
As she reached the peak, her fears were suddenly realised. Waiting, crouching on the ground behind the wall of the concrete bridge, was a Roamer.
It got to its feet in the time it took for Scarlett to free her axe from her belt. Panicking, she swung it sharply from left to right at the corpse’s head height. It hit directly in the temple, slicing effortlessly through the creature’s fragile skin, causing it to become instantly lifeless.
After a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart, Scarlett took in her surroundings. On the bridge, she wasn’t surprised by what she saw; an array of abandoned vehicles greeted her, each one was covered in a thick layer of brown dust and surrounded by clothes, empty bottles and food containers. To her left, just over the bridge, she could see a row of blackberry bushes. It seemed to go on forever, and she excitedly thought about filling her pockets.
She was stunned by the view on the ground below. Past the abandoned, dirty vehicles over the other side of the bridge, a large forest surrounded what appeared to be an inhabited settlement, with one small road trailing out through the centre. She wondered how long it would take for them all to get there, whether there was a passable road close to their vehicle.
Distracted by the scenery, she didn’t notice Riley and Quinlan reach the top and observe the Roamer she’d put down.
“Are you okay? Did it hurt you or James?” Riley panted.
“We’re fine,” Scarlett replied, brushing off his concern. “Can you see this? Do you think there are people down there? What if Travis and Hope found that place? It looks safe, enclosed. Maybe we could--”
Scarlett was cut short when she heard the unmistakable sound of metal against metal and her axe was forced to the ground.
Turning around, Scarlett impulsively drew her pistol when she was faced with a beautiful young woman, probably around the age of twenty-five. How this stranger had managed to sneak up on them, Scarlett didn’t know. She was slightly shorter than Scarlett, but still came across with some authority. The girl also held a weapon, a trench knife, which she brandished threateningly close to Scarlett’s chest, next to which her new-born son was swaddled under her jacket.
Scarlett kept her cool. She knew how dangerous it could be for people to know she had an infant. The pair of them stood for a moment, silently intimidating each other, the hostile atmosphere growing with each second that passed. They looked each other up and down before the stranger spoke.
“Why are you here?”
Her voice was deeper than Scarlett imagined, given her size, and came as just as much of a shock as her thick southern accent. Scarlett’s chest ached with wanting to hear Travis’ southern drawl.
“I don’t think that’s anything to do with you.”
“Oh, I think it has everything to do with me when a little bitch wanders into my territory without permission, and then has the balls to point a gun at me. I know exactly who you are.”
“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?”
“Scarlett--”
“Shut up, Quinlan.”
“I asked you a question,” the woman spat, “Scarlett.”
Scarlett considered the stranger’s eyes and recognised the emotion she’d become too familiar with; abhorrence. This woman, who didn’t even know Scarlett’s name until a few seconds before, looked at her with disgust, assuming that Scarlett, Riley and Quinlan wanted whatever it was she had. That was, after all, the safest assumption anyone could make, and Scarlett was so used to seeing that look now that it didn’t usually bother her.
Her fear, frustration and anger had been held back. She’d tried for all those months to be brave, locking her feelings away. And now, with the stranger staring her down; threatening her existence, Scarlett lost it. Something inside her snapped and the pent-up rage she’d been carrying was about to weigh her down and buckle her.
She had to release it, but she couldn’t; not with James sleeping soundly against her chest. Her body was so full of antipathy and grief that now, looking into the stranger’s face, it began to seep from her eyes as a liquid. She let her arm fall by her side while her emotions overcame her. She cried harder than she had for a long time. She was sick of the hate-filled looks from strangers and the pitiful stares from her friends.
Riley appeared by her side with his hands up in surrender and Scarlett leant against his chest. From under her jacket, James began to cry, sensing his mother’s distress. Scarlett pulled down the zip enough to see his face and the woman lowered her weapon with an open mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” she began. “I didn’t know.”
“This is Scarlett,” Riley said, “I’m Riley, that’s Quinlan over there, and this little bundle is James. Scarlett is trying to find her daughter and the father.”
The stranger didn’t hesitat
e.
“Come with me. It’s not safe here with a crying baby.” Immediately the woman turned and began leading them along the bridge, “I’m Piper by the way.”
“Good to meet you... I think,” Quinlan chirped.
“How old is your baby, Scarlett?”
“He’s three days old,” Scarlett responded.
“Three days? My God, you must be exhausted.”
“We’re fuckin’ hungry, I can tell you that for sure,” came Quinlan’s voice again.
“Well, you can eat once we’re back. I’d offer for you all to stay, but I imagine you’re eager to get back to finding your family.”
“I don’t mean to sound impolite, but yeah,” Scarlett admitted.
“Maybe we could stay for one night, Scarlett?” Riley suggested. “You need a decent night’s sleep.”
“Maybe,” she said, not entirely convinced. “I’ll see when we get there.”
“I understand. And I’m sorry for calling you a bitch. I feel awful.”
“Apology accepted. I’ve been called worse.”
“I get the desperation and anger now. We only have one child, but if she ever went missing, I don’t know what we’d do.”
“How old is she?” Riley asked.
“Oh, I’m not sure. But from the size of her, I’d say about five. Such a sweet little thing. We’re almost at the meeting point. Do you have a vehicle?”
“Yeah,” Riley said, “it’s not far from here.”
“Perhaps one of you would like to go and get it? We’ll wait.”
They rounded a corner and a group of six men stood around four motorcycles, all admiring their finds from a successful morning.
“Everyone, I’ve found more survivors,” Piper announced. The men stopped and stared at them. “They have a newborn, and Scarlett here is looking for her family.” A couple of the men smiled at them, the rest just gawped at the bundle in Scarlett’s arms. “I’ve invited them to come with us and refuel before they carry on.”
Roamers (Book 2): Fear. Loss. Survival. Hope. Page 13