*
The road was mainly empty. He had passed two other cars in half an hour that were parked up at the side of the road, Kenneth hadn't stopped to investigate, he kept on at his steady rate. It was so peaceful, it didn't feel like the end of the world. If it wasn't for the lack of cows or sheep, the absence of wildlife, it could be any drive in the country. An overturned tractor stopped the good progress. The Land Rover was well suited to off-roading and a gap in the trees through the wooded area allowed Kenneth to get around the obstacle, getting back on the road proved more difficult. The woods were sparse, allowing for the car to move freely between the trees, but the natural path took him further from the road. Kenneth put his foot firmly to the brake, and the car stopped. He picked up the map in frustration. The woods didn't go on forever but it would be impossible to tell if he could progress further through them or whether he was better off heading back and finding another way around the tractor. Maybe even trying to drag the tractor to the side of the road. Fuck it. Carry on and hope for the best. He drove more slowly, looking further ahead, hoping for a path back to the road. Some movement caught his attention towards the road, a dozen of the things feasting on a horse. Poor thing, it was already dead and providing a meal and distraction, but suddenly the road was less attractive. Kenneth glanced back to the map and decided to punch through to the other side of the woods, it should be a big open field, that should have a gate, that should lead to a road. There were a lot of shoulds in there, but better than the definitive of the feeders on the road.
Within minutes he was out, the field was full of sheep carcasses. This place had been picked clean, but the creatures hadn't stuck around, maybe they were the ones devouring the horse. The gate was open and Kenneth made his way towards it, nervous as to what might be on the other side of the hedgerow. A dead farmer. That was the guess, he looked like one. He had a shotgun still resting under his chin, the top of his head was gone. He looked reasonably fresh, his flesh hadn't been touched by any of the things. Maybe the loss of his herd, the fall of humanity was too much, and he took the easy way out. Kenneth knew it was an option, but he wasn't there yet and pretty sure he never would be.
Chichester was well signposted even on the side roads. As he got closer, he saw more evidence of the carnage that had taken hold. First a few more cars, then the odd corpse missing a limb or stripped of flesh. He saw the first of the monsters as he got closer to the camp. He had hoped maybe it wasn't as bad away from Lewes, but he knew it was. As soon as he got close to a densely populated area, signs of trouble grew. It had taken three hours to get close to the camp after a few forced detours. The camp was less than half a mile away, the creature activity had picked up and it wasn't looking good that the camps had held. He'd seen many dead civilians hobbling aimlessly on his trip, but few military and maybe only a police officer or two. The diesel engine would attract too much attention so Kenneth stowed it at the edge of a field, a few hastily cut pieces of hedge scattered on top to make it a little more difficult to spot. Rifle in hand, he began to make his way towards the camp that should be a little over three fields and a small woodland away. It was painfully slow going. Kenneth knew he was alone, outnumbered, and no prisoners would be taken. He began to be hyper aware of every sound, a snap of a twig underfoot, a faraway hungry cry from one of the things. “Keep it together, you're nearly there.” He muttered the words he'd been thinking since he left the relative safety of the car. He didn't dare cross the middle of the field, he'd be far too easy to spot. His major concern was obviously being eaten, but it had crossed his mind he might become prey to other survivors. Someone might find his assault rifle and ammunition worth killing for. Carefully walking close to the hedge line was slow and cut down his visibility but better that than being shot by an unknown sniper or attracting a group of those hungry fuckers.
The first field down, and no incident.
The second field was a little bigger, knee high grass, also free of any cattle or obvious threats Kenneth stuck with his plan of following the perimeter. He clutched the rifle tightly, but knew he shouldn't fire unless he absolutely had to, he hadn't had a bayonet issued since Afghanistan. He wished he had one now. A kitchen knife would have to suffice. Half way around the field, he could see some movement at the far end, he dropped to his knee and observed through his rifle sight. A woman wearing a nurse's uniform, some blood stained her clothing, but it didn't seem to be her own. She didn't move like one of the monsters, she moved with caution, fear dictated how she acted, not tactics or training. She was making the reverse journey to Kenneth and cutting straight through the field. Kenneth’s first thought was to help her, but that wasn't his mission. His second was of fear that she might find the Land Rover. He had the keys, but she could still uncover or damage it. Such thoughts didn't have time to linger. Maybe ten of them followed her at a reasonable pace, Kenneth had the leading monster in his sights. The woman began to run. Kenneth flicked the safety off and slowly applied pressure to the trigger. Before he could apply the final squeeze, the nurse screamed and fell to the floor, trying desperately to get back up. Kenneth moved his sight back to her, something in the long grass had grabbed her and wasn't letting go. He didn't have time to react as the first pursuing creature was on her toppling her back to the ground and top of whatever had grabbed her. It was too late.
The rest of the pack ripped hungry chunks of flesh from her body. A large one came from the gate and let out a bone chilling cry. The others stopped as it approached the kill. Kenneth couldn't take his eyes off of it. Its grey skin and bloated body were horrifying, large boils on its face looked ready to pop, its dominance over the others was equally disconcerting. It ambled over and with one hand picked up the remains of the nurse. Her uniform now completely crimson, her body torn and tattered, the left arm dangling with only a tendon keeping it attached. It looked at the prize then chomped down onto her neck, taking two large greedy bites before tossing the body back to the floor and allowing the others to feed. It looked around and Kenneth ducked down hoping it wouldn’t spot him. Seeing nothing of interest, it trundled back through the gate. Kenneth breathed deeply. He tried not to shake, he might need to shoot and didn't have enough rounds to miss just because he was on the verge of shitting himself. After a few seconds, it was obvious they were occupied and Kenneth gave his surroundings a quick check to ensure he wasn't about to join the poor girl. Surely the nurse was from the camp, was there any point pushing forward? Even if there were survivors, they’d have their hands full, looking for help rather than offering it. There would be more of these things and if there were any more of those fat bastards, he'd rather not know it. But he had a mission, he had to check. He wouldn't be the soldier he was if he turned back because things got a little difficult. A little difficult. People eating people was perhaps more than a little difficult, but the reality was ten creatures with teeth or ten enemy soldiers with Kalashnikovs were both challenging propositions. The main gate was out of the question, that's where the mini death parade had emerged from, half of that side of the field was a stone wall, only four to five feet tall it wouldn’t be a problem to get over. Kenneth eased his way to the wall, glancing regularly at the feeding beasts. Gently he peeked over the decaying stone wall another two or three just standing, not doing too much, they were closer to the gate and facing the opposite direction. The fat bastard was slowly making its way towards the woods at the far end of the third field.
Blood stained wool and animal carcasses littered the field. Any meat long since picked clean from the bones. The grass wasn’t as long, the field a little narrower a small barbed wire fence separated the field from the woods, but it had many gaps where it had collapsed. Kenneth waited for the big one to reach the woods and then climbed over the wall. He kept low and quickly made it over to the tree line. The fence was laying across the ground, small lumps of greying flesh attached to most of the barbs where they had pushed through. At the edge of the woods, he scouted as far as he could see in front of him, it app
eared to be clear. The light was good and the trees not so thick as to likely shield a swarm of creatures, the only issue was that fatty was well out of sight, but there was little chance it'd be able to sneak up on Kenneth. He made his move into the woods, avoiding twigs, holes and stopping at the slightest sound of the wind blowing across his path. It was narrow and didn’t take long even with the extra care he was taking. He neared the edge of the woods, the camp started to become visible. Kenneth brought the rifle up to his shoulder and looked through the sight.. The camp was huge, unbelievably so. Multiple levels of huge fences, several towers on the perimeter and internally. Kenneth could see several structures and a lot of tents. He could also see people, hundreds and hundreds of people. Thank fuck.
The relief was short lived. A gunshot rang out from one of the towers and a person close to that tower fell. Then stood back up. They weren't people, they were infected, all of them. Only a few men in the towers survived, trapped high above a murderous mob of cannibalistic maniacs. Those unlucky few were beyond help, they would either succumb to starvation, fall prey to the creatures or most likely eat a bullet. From the camp up to the edge of the woods, a series of fresh bodies and monsters devouring them. The nurse must have been part of a group that tried to make a break for it. Maybe at Petworth they would still be standing, they'd be able to spare some troops, perhaps even have a functioning Ajax or Warrior armoured fighting vehicle that could clear out the horde and rescue those trapped. Whatever, Kenneth had checked Chichester, and it had indeed fallen, the mission now was Petworth and then Southampton. He turned and was face to face with the big one, barely a foot away its mouth opened revealing gore encrusted chipped teeth. Its breath was a mix of rotten meat and vomit. How the hell did it get so close without him noticing? There was no time to ponder, it was upon him. He grabbed his knife and plunged the blade into the creatures skull, the thin weak blade barely scraped the skull. He tried again, this time it successfully penetrated the skull but as the thing wretched backwards, the blade snapped, the handle having at most an inch of remaining blade. It staggered forward and Kenneth dodged out of the way as it tried in vain to grab him. Kenneth smashed this tiny broken blade repeatedly into its head until it was just a handle, it kept on coming and Kenneth stumbled back falling on to his arse. He shouldered his rifle and stopped himself from pulling the trigger, instead adjusting his grip to the barrel and swinging it at the beast, striking the protruding blade and slamming it into the brain. It slumped down next to Kenneth, a vile grey liquid running from its open mouth. Kenneth gasped for breath as he hurriedly got back to his feet avoiding the creatures fluids, wiping the butt of his rifle across the ground to clear any potential contamination. He looked around in case the scuffle had attracted any attention. It hadn't, but he wasn't about to linger. He abandoned the caution he had previously displayed and retraced his way back through the three fields. The creatures milled around still unaware of his presence, the nurse was still providing a meal to two of the infected the others had moved on.
Back at the Land Rover, Kenneth examined his map and checked on his next route. He pondered for a moment if the diversion North was worthwhile and perhaps he should just continue on to Southampton. He paused as he mentally weighed up the options. Of course he was going to Petworth. He started the engine and popped the car into gear and pulled away.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
PETER WAS RELIEVED when he had nothing but empty fields in front of him and the husk of a town behind. He was sure he had got back on track but took every opportunity he could to confirm this. On the way out of town, he'd found a few small bottles of lemonade and a packet of mints, something at least but not exactly a meal. The town was far enough away that he felt safe to have a brief sit down. He began to attach the blade to the mop handle to create his second spear, ready to use the lessons of the first iteration to make sure it didn't suffer the same fate. Once complete, Peter allowed himself a moment to enjoy the view. It would have been beautiful had there not been the threat of a flesh-eating monster behind every tree or bush. The silence put him at ease until the inevitable sound of a scream or roar in the distance pulled him back to reality. He took a mouthful of lemonade, popped in a mint to suck, and decided it was time to crack on. He struggled to his feet, using his spear to steady himself and began to hobble in the direction he was sure was correct, trying to get a little closer to the main road where he might see a sign to confirm this.
Within an uneventful mile he saw a sign, he was heading in the right direction, albeit still with a long way to go. He checked his surroundings and then moved away from the road to follow it from a safe distance. So far to go, he'd happily sleep for a week already and it was only the second day. He'd be far happier when the signs started showing less than forty miles and he’d broken the back of his trek. Until then, he'd feel very much at the beginning of his journey. Maybe he'd get lucky and be able to hitch a lift from another survivor, not that he'd seen any. But why would he? He was being cautious. These things were everywhere, especially in the towns. He'd been lucky so far to only have a couple of close encounters, but he'd spent a great deal of time hiding in his own home. He knew it was possible to be invisible if you were willing to slowly starve to death. Who knows how many survivors he passed by as they quietly hid in the doomed security of their homes, praying for rescue. He thought he might pass an army patrol, see a helicopter or a group of survivors hardened by fighting. But nothing. Everything was either abandoned, appeared to be or had a few of these things sniffing around. His hope of stumbling upon help had faded after that first day, he feared he'd be on his own until he got to Southampton.
*
Gareth looked a shadow of his former self, he was wearing a pair of supermarket jeans, a hoodie, he hadn't shaved in over a week and smelled bad. He carried a double-barrelled shotgun on his back and a lump of wood in his hands, the grey blood of the monsters stained the business end. The last camp he'd been in was small and cramped, it wasn’t run by the military, and didn’t have the supplies or defences they would have offered. It was almost a relief when the feeders overwhelmed the defences and the inhabitants either fought or ran. He wasn't ashamed of running. He was still alive, hungry, tired but alive. He hadn't seen a live human for a few days, but he had seen plenty of those things and evaded them. When he saw that man, he wasn't sure whether to hug him or rob him. It was a close call, but he decided there was safety in numbers and this guy wasn't in great shape, if they found trouble he'd at least serve as a distraction. He hadn't seen him and Gareth wasn't sure how to approach. He didn't want to startle him, he might have a gun. Best not tap him on the shoulder or get too close.
“Excuse me!” He shouted out in a terribly British way.
The man turned round so quickly he nearly fell over. Gareth waved and smiled, the man waved and smiled back. They both gingerly approached one another, neither dared to hold out their hand or get two close.
“Gareth.”
“I'm Peter.” They stood awkwardly for a moment not really knowing what to do next. “Where are you from?” Gareth got the exchange moving.
“Redhill.” Peter quietly responded. Gareth shrugged his shoulders.
“West London, but I spent the last two weeks in this shitty little camp in Windsor, before that a large army camp. I guess the same thing happened at yours as always happens, those damn things outside and idiots inside.”
“I wasn't in a camp. I stayed at home.” Peter replied.
“Well, you didn't miss much. Food was tasteless and minimal, crime was rife and either the soldiers or whoever claimed authority acted like dicks. I was in an eight-man tent with fifteen other people in the army camp. You'd think at a time like this people wouldn't masturbate at every opportunity but Jesus, this one guy. And the group I met up with, their camp, even worse. Anyway, you did well staying at home. Is it close?” The chance for a safe space was enticing. If this guy had survived there, it must be safe.
“A few days from here, I’m makin
g my way to Southampton, they have a huge camp there, air support, tens of thousands of troops, tanks and ships.” How had Gareth not heard of the big camp? “By my reckoning we head to Farnborough, just follow the path of the A31 and we'll be there in a few days if we're lucky.” Peter was assuming Gareth would join him.
“I don't know where I'm heading, the camps aren't good, really you don't want that. But I'll come with you for a day or so. Do you have any food?” Gareth wasn't carrying anything besides his piece of wood and the shotgun, he'd spotted Peter's bag when deciding whether to greet or beat him, but it didn't look to contain a great deal of anything.
Peter rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a pack of mints which he offered to Gareth who took them gladly.
“This is it? Mints?” He tossed a couple in his mouth and pocketed the packet.
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