Hell

by G G Garcia

  He put his foot down as he went by the policeman. Both men gawped at what was happening behind. Paul checked the rear view mirror, and Tony turned around and looked through the back window.

  The policeman was running after them, but soon gave up once he was out of breath. A definite IO, they both thought.

  “Well, that confirms he was one of them,” Paul sighed.

  “I know.” Tony ran his fingers over his exhausted face and added, “I still can’t process what’s happening right now.”

  “You and me both.”

  “I suppose the positive thing about this whole situation is that you can’t get infected if bitten,” said Tony.

  “I know.” Paul looked at his hand. He had been bitten the day before when he was at Wolseley’s garden centre, but the wound wasn’t that bad. “Thank Christ. Otherwise I’d be fucked.”

  “Just need to stay safe and the IO’s should die off. If they’re human, they can starve to death. Stay indoors and you cut off the food supply. Maybe dehydration will kill them first, man.”

  “Not sure about that,” said Paul. “I’m pretty sure, if they were desperate enough, they’d drink from a river or a pond.”

  “So maybe they’ll get an infection.”

  “They’re already infected,” Paul laughed.

  “You know what I mean, man,” Tony huffed, annoyed he was being mocked. “Don’t act like a fanny.”

  Paul decided not to continue the conversation and his mind began to wander. He wondered what happened to his parents. He assumed they had gone somewhere safer. At least Craig’s parents were still alive. Demi’s were dead, because he was told that she heard them being attacked over the phone when she was staying at the Wolseley Arms. As for Tony’s parents...

  Paul wished he never went into the attic, but Tony’s parents were dead. They had killed themselves. He just didn’t know how to tell his friend. Maybe it was better for his friend to remain hopeful, but he hated lying to him. Paul pressed harder on the accelerator and looked at the road sign that was to his left.

  Another mile and they’d be back at the pub.

  Chapter Eighteen

  With the Audi making the short journey to Demi’s house, it finally pulled up at the side of the road. Only three people had been spotted during their short journey, and neither Demi or Henry were sure if they were infected or not. The Audi had turned into a road, rather than passing the three individuals up ahead that were together, and Henry was relieved that they didn’t need to pass them to get to Demi’s house. But what baffled him was that there was no reaction from the three. They just glared at the vehicle as it turned.

  If they were infected, he was sure that they would have run for the vehicle. And if they were not tainted, he was sure that the survivors would have at least waved and called out for help. Maybe they didn’t need help. Maybe they were scavenging for food, trying to survive.

  Henry switched the ignition off and put the keys into his pocket.

  He turned to his passenger and asked if she was ready, and she nodded with a lack of confidence, reluctant to move.

  Henry was the first to step out of the car, trying to speed things up. Demi eventually got out and wiped her wet eyes. With impatience, Henry approached the garden gate and began to proceed to the back door of Demi’s house. He waited until she was by his side and asked him what the rush was.

  “I want to get this done with,” said Henry.

  “So do I.” Demi cleared her throat and added, “This is not easy for me, you know. Show some patience.”

  “Look, Demsy,” Henry sighed and turned to face his sister’s friend. “Don’t take this the wrong way...”

  “But?”

  “I don’t need to do this. We’re not a couple,” Henry spoke bluntly. “You’re my dead little sister’s friend who I occasionally fucked now and again. I don’t owe you anything, so don’t go bargaining orders at me.”

  “Fuck you.” Demi looked close to striking Henry, but she had to think twice.

  Looking at the rage on her face, Henry added, “I’m doing you a fucking favour here. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be stuck in that pub.”

  Demi never responded verbally. She was hurt by Henry’s comments, and that was clear on her face, but she thought that maybe he had a point, although his words could have been chosen better.

  Henry turned back round to face the door and could see it was wide open. He pulled his handgun from the front of his jeans and gently pushed the door open. He didn’t know the layout of Demi’s house, so he stepped inside with cautious feet.

  He took a quick gape in the kitchen and could see it was empty. He told Demi to get in. Once she did, he closed the back door and told her to stay in the kitchen whilst he checked the rest of the house.

  She did as she was told, and Henry opened the kitchen door that led into the living room and took a peep in. It was clear.

  “It’s clear,” he said to Demi. “You said that you heard them being attacked on your phone.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded.

  “They must have been killed upstairs. There’s no sign of a struggle, blood ... or anything in the living room.”

  “Okay.” Demi gulped and said, “Be careful.”

  “I will.” He smiled and waggled the gun that was in his right hand. “Back in a bit, sugar pop.”

  Henry crept through the living room and opened the door that led to the stairs. He looked up and could see the stairs to the first floor of the house was clear. With his handgun gripped with his sweaty palm, he trudged up the stairs with nervous feet and the fresh smell of death tortured his nose as he reached the landing. He could see that there were four doors, and all of them were wide open. He knew where the smell was coming from, but decided to check the other three rooms first, before going into the room where he correctly guessed where Demi’s parents lay dead.

  The three rooms were clear, and Henry gently pushed Demi’s parent’s bedroom door open with his foot and almost retched when he saw the state of the bodies.

  Flies buzzed excitedly in the room, and Henry winced when he saw the disgusting insects around the two corpses. The male, Demi’s father, had nothing but a pair of shorts on. He was lying face down, by the side of the bed, and his back was covered in blood. It was clear that he had been attacked. There were bite marks on his back and a huge chunk of flesh was missing at the side of his torso and his throat had been mutilated as well. It looked like he had bled to death.

  The female, Demi’s mother, was dressed in casual clothing, and was lying on her back, eyes open. She had had her throat torn out as well, a part of her cheek had been ripped away, and most of her face was covered in blood.

  This looked like the work of more than one of them, and he looked down to see a mobile phone by the female, covered in crimson.

  He released a depressed sigh and knew Demi couldn’t and shouldn’t see them like this. He slotted his gun in the front of his jeans and decided to wrap the bodies up in sheets, before having them buried.

  Ten minutes later, after finding enough sheets to wrap the bodies up, Henry made his way downstairs to confront Demi Mason.

  He entered the kitchen and released a thin smile as she looked at him.

  “How was it?” Demi spoke as soon as Henry returned.

  Henry sighed with sadness, “Get a shovel.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The red pickup was minutes away from reaching the pub, and Paul turned to Tony, wearing a daft grin on his face.

  Tony looked at his friend and asked, “What’s up with you?”

  “Ya know wit I’m thinkin’?” Paul began to giggle.

  “Obviously not.”

  Paul groaned and released a reminiscing grin. “I was thinkin’ about Trisha Robertson, from Crabtree Way.”

  “Was that the girl that gave us all a blowjob in one night?”

  “The same one.” Paul giggled and added, “God, imagine that was ya daughter.”

  “Didn’t Craig sleep with h
er a week later?”

  “That’s right.” Paul smiled and snickered, “She told everyone that it was two minutes of her life she was never goin’ to get back.”

  Tony laughed and shook his head. He had no idea why he was laughing. At the age of twenty-four he was still an inexperienced man in the bedroom, although not a virgin anymore. Tony wasn’t a bad looking guy, and he managed to pull the girls once in a while, but for some reason it never happened for him. He had been in a vicious circle for years. He was only confident enough to talk to girls when he was drunk, but if ever the opportunity would arise to sleep with them, he’d be too soused to perform. And if ever he had the opportunity to sleep with someone after he met them the next day, during the day, he’d be too nervous and make excuses. Four months ago he began chatting to Craig’s mum on Facebook, and then four weeks later they were arranging to be alone together in bedsits and travel lodges.

  “Shit!” screamed Paul.

  The pickup screeched as Paul hit the brake pedal, and both men were thrown forwards as they struck an object in the middle of the road. The vehicle spun and eventually came to a stop once the vehicle struck a hedge.

  Paul rubbed his head and checked on his passenger. Tony was okay, just a little dazed and shocked. Paul checked himself in the rear view mirror, and was relieved that he looked unscathed. He then looked to the side, and saw something had caught his eye. He could see the cause of the accident, and could see a deer limping away into a cluster of trees.

  He tried the ignition and tried to get the vehicle moving again. It started, but Paul was struggling to reverse it off of the grass bank and back onto the road. The wheels span, and a frustrated Paul Newbold opened his door and took a peek at the front wheel as he continued to apply pressure on the gas. The wheel span in the mud and it was clear that they were stuck. The pickup was nearly in the red anyway, according to the fuel gauge, but it would have been more than enough to get them to the pub.

  He continued to try and get the pickup out, and noticed Tony was looking in the side mirror and then behind him. His behaviour was odd and he looked scared.

  “Wit is it?” Paul snapped, and decided to give up getting the vehicle out. He turned the engine off and also had a look behind.

  “Do you think they’re infected?” Tony asked.

  Paul could see seven individuals, over a hundred yards away, heading towards them. One of them began to run, and the other six quickly followed suit.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Paul cried.

  “But how do you know they’re infected.”

  “Ya wanna wait here and find out?” yelled Paul.

  A teary Tony shook his head.

  “They’re runnin’ towards us. That’s enough for me.”

  Both men exited the vehicle and Paul and Tony ran to the right, through a cluster of trees, and ran across the field.

  “Where are we going?” Tony called out.

  “Anywhere away from them!” Paul roared, now beginning to get short of breath. “Straight ahead. Head for the river.”

  “Shit.” Tony checked his pockets. “I forgot the tyre iron. I don’t have my knife either.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Tony had caught up with Paul and both were now running alongside one another. Paul could see the river up ahead. The plan was to travel along the side of the River Trent and follow it up until they reached near the pub. But they didn’t want to have a group of IOs to be present as well. They needed to lose them.

  He looked over his shoulder and could see two of them following, running in their direction, and was unsure where the rest were.

  “Don’t turn around, Tony!” Paul cried. “Keep runnin’.”

  “I intend to, man.”

  Once they reached the riverbank they ran along it, exchanging no words, and both looked to the side to see that the two IOs were still running after them. Paul looked up ahead and could see that the pub was a few hundred yards away. They needed to run under the Wolseley Bridge and turn left into the car park/beer garden of the Wolseley Arms establishment. But they had two pursuers to take care of.

  Paul was exhausted and stopped running, with the river only two yards from his left.

  Tony also stopped running. “What the fuck are you doing, man?”

  “We need to take care of those two,” Paul panted, and was now bent over, his hands on his thighs and trying to catch his breath.

  “No fucking way, man!”

  “Look,” Paul gasped, and was now standing up, still trying to catch his breath. “If we don’t take care of them now, we’ll have to sort them out when we reach the pub. I don’t know about ya, but I’m not fit enough to run another hundred yards. And Melvin and Lisa won’t open that door if they see two of the infected.”

  “I dunno.”

  “It’s only two of them.”

  Tony looked on the ground and picked up a rock. Paul made a stance, as the two infected males got closer, as if he was a boxer in a ring, and threw a punch at the first one. It fell over, to the left, and he kicked it in the head before it fell into the river.

  Tony stood helplessly, holding the rock, and watched in shock as the second male jumped for Paul. Both fell over and Paul screamed at Tony to help him. Paul and the other male rolled around on the grass, and Tony gazed in horror as the infected individual was on top of Paul and leaned over to take a bite out of the side of his neck.

  Paul was weakening and accepted his fate, waiting for the inevitable bite, but Tony’s legs had suddenly found movement and ran over to the IO. He released a shriek and rained blow after blow on the back of the male’s skull. The infected male collapsed to the side and Tony fell to his knees and gave the skull two more blows, cracking bone and damaging the brain.

  Panting, Tony dropped the rock that was being held by his two bloody hands, stood up straight, and went over to the river and dipped his hands in. When he turned around, he saw a standing and grateful Paul Newbold.

  Paul smiled and said, “Took ya fuckin’ time, didn’t ya?”

  “Well you know what they say, don’t you. Time waits for no kid.” Tony released a muffled belch and gazed at the male with his brains bashed in. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  “Come on.” Paul slapped Tony’s shoulder and pointed up ahead, at the pub. “We’re not far away now.”

  Chapter Twenty

  After burying Demi’s parents, Henry and his female passenger remained silent as the Audi reached The Chancel Primary School. He turned left onto Station Road and passed St. Augustine’s Church and its archaic graveyard to their right. The roads were bare, but both individuals remained vigilant. A small smile emerged on Demi’s face when she thought about a school trip when she was fifteen years old.

  At the time, most of the class didn’t appreciate the history of the place, and Demi was one of them. The only thing she could remember about the visit was that Christina Collins was buried in that cemetery. She remembered taking a photo of the grave with her phone that she should have left back at school, in her locker, but it was quickly deleted when she ran out of storage space.

  Christina Collins was a woman that had been murdered back in 1839 on a canal boat. Some people claimed that her spirit haunted the canal area and that the steps that led to the main road dripped with blood on the anniversary of her death, every year. They were soon known as The Bloody Steps. She couldn’t remember if Rugeley’s first and only serial killer, Dr William Palmer, was buried there, but Christina Collins definitely was.

  “Trouble up ahead,” Henry spoke up, snapping Demi out of her daydreaming. She looked ahead and gulped when her eyes clocked a swarm of people, twenty-five at least, huddled together. One of the individuals from the crowd looked at the vehicle once Henry brought it to a stop and cocked his head to one side, like a confused dog.

  “Shit,” Demi whispered.

  “Don’t move.” Henry kept the motor running and selected reverse gear. “As soon as the first one moves, we’re out of here.”r />
  Demi held her breath and Henry locked the inside of the car. He took his Glock out of his jeans and gave it to Demi to hold. She never said a word. She just sat there, with the handgun sitting on her lap, scared to move as if it was a snake on her lap.

  The IO that was staring at the vehicle had attracted attention from its subordinates. Two others turned and glared at the staring IO, and then they looked in the same direction. Now three of them were staring at Demi and Henry, and it slowly turned to five, seven, ten ... until all of them were looking in the same direction. The individual who first noticed the vehicle had now begun to move. He took a few steps towards the Audi and others began to follow his lead.

  “Go, Henry!” Demi cried. “Go, now!”

  “Wait a minute, Demsy.”

  Henry was in two minds whether to move or not. Maybe they would suddenly stop and turn around. If he moved now, every single one of them would burst into a sprint, heading in their direction.

  “Henry!” Demi placed her hands on her head. “What are you waiting for?”

  “They might back off,” he said. “Wait a few more seconds.”

  Demi didn’t agree, and the closer they got, the more nervous she became. The crowd were about six car lengths away and Demi thought that that was close enough.”

  “Henry?” she cried.

  “Wait.”

  “Oh, fuck this!” Demi reached over and palmed the steering wheel, sounding the horn.

  “What the fuck are you doing, eh?” Henry cried.

  The crowd of people began to run for the car, for Henry and Demi, and the twenty-nine-year-old male took off the handbrake and pressed the gas pedal. The car shot backwards and Henry pulled the steering wheel to the right, making the vehicle spin one-eighty, then quickly selected first and moved forwards, quickly going through the gears.

  Demi took a frightened glance behind her and released a yelp when she could see they were close, one even managed to jump on the roof of the vehicle. She could see the red in the eyes and some were even salivating just at the thought of ripping the two apart.