“What the fuck?”
Natasha took her chance and pulled his left hand towards her and bit down hard, Kenneth punched her in the face with his right hand before throwing himself backwards clutching the gaping wound. Amy sat up and stared at the fuss. Natasha was dazed, she'd never taken a hit to the face before and she didn't much care for it. The minor injuries she's received so far may have stung or pinched, but a full on punch to the face, this stunned her and for a moment she didn't have control. Something inside her made her jump to her feet, an instinct that felt like it wasn't her own, it wanted to survive, it wanted to get out of there. She wasn't sure where she was but something inside told her to run, she'd be dead if she stayed. Leave the food, run. Natasha picked up the knife and disappeared out of the door just as Amy stood trying to assess the situation.
“She fucking bit me!” Kenneth held his hand up as if proof was required, a large chunk of flesh missing below his thumb.
Amy was quick to notice Gareth's body with more than just the single chunk missing. Peter was perfectly still, Amy felt the need to walk over and give him a good kick to see if he was alive, his jolt into life confirmed he was. “
We need to get it off. I’m sorry.” Kenneth looked at the wound again.
“But she wasn't infected, she was normal.”
Amy grabbed Kenneth's hand and could just about make out a grey residue caking around the wound. Amy flung Kenneth's hand down.
“It has to go, you know it does.”
Kenneth winced with pain, he knew she was right. He wished he’d never helped them, never taken them back and allowed himself to be attacked. It was a mess, he was facing become one of the dead or losing a hand.
“For fuck's sake, in my pack, there's clean dressings. Don't take too much off and make it clean.”
Amy retrieved the dressing and grabbed the maul.
“Fuck off, you’ll take my hand off and break every bone in my wrist, grab a cleaver, a sharp one.”
Amy checked a couple of cleavers before quickly deciding.
Peter was getting the gist of what had occurred but kept back, trying to stay out of the way.
“Find something he can bite down on.”
He hadn't noticed Gareth yet, the little light there was in the room didn't illuminate his body enough to notice the pool of blood surrounding his lifeless body.
“Gareth is…” he began to splutter out but was interrupted by Kenneth.
“We fucking know, get me something to bite down on.”
Peter looked around and picked up a dirty rag and a small piece of wood and sheepishly offered them up to Kenneth who snatched the wood and tried it on for size, squeezing it between his teeth. He looked up at Peter and nodded in approval as Amy returned, clutching the cleaver and bandages, breaking open an alcohol wipe and cleaning the area on Kenneth's wrist near the wounded hand. Kenneth was trying to work himself up to what was about to happen. He breathed fast and heavy, pounding his own chest as he psyched himself up.
“Okay, okay. Do it!” Kenneth laid down on the ground holding his hand along the floorboards stretched out and closed his eyes.
“Ready?” Amy wasn't looking forward to this task either.
Kenneth nodded and screwed up his face, bracing himself for the unpleasantness that would follow. Amy held the cleaver over Kenneth's wrist lifted it high above her head and brought it down as hard as she could. A sickening crack and Kenneth gasped for air.
*
It was dark outside and silent. The house was over a hundred yards behind her, but still she felt the need to run. She stumbled across the rough ground and only stopped when she tripped over a mound of earth in the field. She sat up and looked behind her to check if she was being followed, but there were no pursuers. Damn it, four good meals lost, and she'd only managed an appetiser. Gareth was going to waste, she'd caused a fatal blow to Kenneth, but that might take time to show. Peter wasn't a threat but Amy would be a problem. She didn't want to walk away from perhaps the only fresh meat within ten miles, but she didn't fancy taking a bullet to the face either. She cursed herself for blowing her element of surprise.
She had interacted with the dead a few times, except for the big one she had been able to apply some influence on them. They didn't attack her, and they would follow her until something distracted them. There were enough milling around that she could herd them up and take them to the house. She'd have to be careful, but it was worth a try, even if she'd have to share her meal.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
THE SUN WAS trying to find its way over the horizon and the few song birds around made their presence known. Natasha knew it was time to strike, they'd surely move out when it was light and whilst they'd be easy prey in an open field, her friends would struggle to keep up. Finding a few friendly teeth hadn't been difficult, she'd got nearly forty of these basic feeders to follow her, all in various states of decay, all starving for flesh. She'd have to share, but she'd get her fill and that was better than nothing. She ambled up the road leading her entourage to the path of the house. A face at an upstairs window peaked around a broken board. They knew she was here. It wouldn't make a difference, they couldn't run and fighting would be futile. She just had to stay close enough to the action to make sure she got her fair share of the spoils, but not so close that she risked becoming a target.
“Go in there!”
She shouted at the confused beasts, they looked at her unsure of what she was. She didn't smell like food, but she sounded like it. Their base minds weren't able to process the information, so they just ignored it, a few from the back started to wander off.
“No! Food! Meat! People! They're in there!”
They didn't move. Natasha strode forward to the head of the pack and tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. She cursed her luck and then started banging on it.
“You can't stay there forever!”
Kenneth was sat in the room's corner holding his rifle, Amy carefully peeked outside looking at the large number of feeders surrounding them. Peter was Peter, he paced nervously in the room, careful to keep away from any windows.
“There's too many, even if we made every round a perfect headshot I think we'd be short and you two will not be much use in a fistfight.”
Kenneth signalled over to his bag, and Peter rummaged around inside and produced an L109A1 high explosive fragmentation grenade. Peter's face turned white.
“Careful with that Peter, it's my only one, and it makes a big bang.”
Natasha was having no more luck rallying her troops, but the more noise and fuss she made, the longer they kept an interest, if only to add menace to her malice.
“I don't feel right.” Kenneth just about stood up and steadied himself. “I think I'm changing.”
Amy offered him a glance before continuing to observe the dead outside.
“Bullshit, you've lost a lot of blood, but you'll be fine.”
Kenneth looked at the bandaged stump, blood showing through.
“This isn't my first major wound, but this is different.” He sounded quieter, sad. He believed what he said, it didn't matter what Amy had to say.
“Unless you've lost a hand before, this is different.” Kenneth awkwardly checked his rifle, propping it between his body and the wall as he released the magazine before inserting it back in.
“You need to go, before she figures out how to get in and you're trapped with me.”
“You're coming with us, you're not dead yet.” Amy was angry at the suggestion they should leave Kenneth behind.
“You will need to run, and I can't. I can shoot, just, and I can give them something to think about. How's the back looking?” Peter sneaked a look.
“There are six, maybe seven but they're pretty spread out.”
Kenneth forced a pained smile. “Good, you can drop safely down from that window, Peter, I will throw that grenade out front, once it goes off, that's your cue to climb out of the window and drop to the ground.”
&nb
sp; Kenneth handed him the bloody cleaver. “You'll need this. Amy, I'll start shooting out of the front and see if I can't nail that bitch.” Kenneth fumbled for a magazine out of his pouch. “Sorry, there's only a dozen or so rounds, clear a path for the big man then join him, don't forget my backpack, fill it with what you can, I won't be needing it.”
“We can fight them off here. We don't need to leave you.” Amy hoped he'd listen but knew he wouldn't.
Kenneth held out the grenade. “It's hard to get the pin out with just one hand.” Amy obliged and Kenneth threw the grenade in the middle of the feeders, close to Natasha.
It landed a few feet from her and she looked down.
“Fuck!” Natasha ran a few feet then threw herself to the ground. The explosion rocked her eardrums, a piece of shrapnel tore into her stomach, the pain was sharp and burned. The closest feeders were all thrown to the floor sporting wounds throughout their bodies, the greying blood clotting nearly as quickly as it appeared. One flapped and floundered on the floor, its legs unable to stand, another lay motionless with half of its skull missing and dark grey brain on display. The rest raised back to their feet, confused and angry they all began snarling and groaning at their unseen attacker. Natasha stood up clutching her wound, her more basic companions may have been pissed off, but they didn't feel the pain in the same way. She screamed at the top of her voice and her followers fell silent. Natasha took a deep breath and screamed even louder running at the door and this time they joined her in her attack.
Kenneth began shooting out of the window, careful to make his shots count but he wasn't on top form and it showed in his marksmanship. Three shots and he scored a solitary hit to one attacker’s torso doing little to slow it down. Peter sat on the window ledge, his feet hanging outside, Amy fired next to him taking down two of the creatures.
“Go, go now!” Peter twisted around and lowered himself to the ground as Amy downed another monster.
“Come with us, please!” Kenneth offered one of his beaming smiles before firing again, this time connecting with a face sending the body tumbling to the floor.
Amy lowered herself from the window to catch sight of Peter smashing a creature in the face with the cleaver. Finally she was impressed, but she didn't expect it to last long. They jogged through the small number feeders that remained in their path until they were clear. Gunshots continued to ring out.
The front door was nearly open, Natasha held herself back as her followers did the hard work, she flinched with every gunshot wary that one may find its way to her. The door finally gave and the hungry beasts fought each other to get through first, to be the one to get that first taste.
The house was a few hundred yards behind them before Amy and Peter turned around, a few stragglers followed, not many and not fast. Five gunshots rang out in quick succession and then silence. A brief pause and then Amy put her hand on Peter's shoulder before they carried on.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
THE MIDDLE OF the field gave them plenty of visibility but did little to shelter them from hungry eyes. At least if they were to be set upon, they'd have time to react. Amy was rummaging through the backpack Kenneth had told her to take. After the seven tins of miscellaneous meat and vegetables, she’d hoped for weapons or ammunition but those hopes soon dispersed. A few articles of clothing, but Kenneth was almost a giant, they'd be little use. A picture of Kenneth with a group of soldiers and another with his family. A couple of protein bars and a sealed food packet from a ration pack rounded out the food. At least it would be something to take back to the farm. Peter sat in silence, staring out into the distance. Amy tapped him on the shoulder with a protein bar that he gratefully accepted and immediately unwrapped and devoured. Amy tucked into the other bar as she continued looking through the bag. A bar of soap, more clothes and a map. Amy unfolded and examined it. Kenneth's path was documented with the camps, masses of feeders, potential supplies, and useful structures all marked off. Each cross or marking a display of how fucked the world was. It was hard to follow a timeline, but it mapped a path out to Southampton. Of course it did, Peter would be happy, if she told him. They needed to get back to the farm, but what if Natasha was following them? She knew about the farm, they'd talked about it, maybe she'd follow them. Maybe she'd track back and try to find it on her own, anyway. Maybe they were already dead, and it didn't fucking matter. Maybe none of it fucking mattered. Life had boiled down to sitting in the middle of a field, eating a protein bar, considering how a packet of cold biryani would taste whilst hoping a dead person wouldn't eat you.
Southampton, the rumours were of the single largest military presence in the United Kingdom after the outbreak. Tanks, soldiers and air support. It either stood and would have the same issues as any of the other camps. Or it had fallen and would house thousands of the feeders. There was another option. Kenneth's map had a path back to Wellworth. It showed where to avoid, where they might find supplies and it led back to a small secure location that may not have succumb to the same degradation in morality as any other camp. It was closer and offered some hope, enough to get Peter moving.
“Peter, have you ever been to Lewes?”
They were just sitting in the middle of a field, without a care in the world. They were nearly a kilometer away but Natasha imagined they were laughing and joking. Those arseholes, why couldn't they have just let her eat them? The house hadn't gone so well. Her faithful minions had charged the good meat before she got a chance, she imagined they'd nailed Kenneth straight away and then started on Gareth. She didn't hang around to find out. She caught sight of Amy and Peter fleeing and took the snap decision to follow them, they'd lead her back to their group and she'd have food for weeks. Or if that took too long she'd kill them in their sleep. Following them had been tiring. Her energy levels were down and anxiety up. She had to keep her distance, but couldn't risk losing them. If they found a functional car, she would be in trouble. But if her travels had taught her anything, the pool of usable cars and clear roads were forever diminishing.
Her prey got themselves up from the ground and slowly began to walk. Natasha eyed up her potential routes to follow. Cover was sparse, but at this distance she stood a good chance of either being missed or mistaken for a more simple monster. Their slow pace was a relief. Her stomach growled and her body gave a slight shudder, as if she needed reminding that she was hungry. If only she'd taken a few more bites of Gareth. Such a waste that those brainless morons got a feed for all of her hard work. There was little point in dwelling on the feast that could have been. It only made her salivate.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
THE ENGINE FAILED to turnover. It didn't matter how much she tried, Amy couldn't get it going. The beat up Vauxhall Astra had been abandoned in the middle of the road, in the middle of nowhere for a reason, because it was a piece of shit. Either it had given up or run out of fuel, either way this car wasn't going anywhere. Amy hopped out and slammed the door hard joining Peter sat on the car’s bonnet.
“Maybe the next one Pete.” Peter shrugged his shoulders, he really wasn't expecting the car to run, none of the others had. Amy had been easier going since their escape. Peter didn't appear so scared, and maybe she saw that he was trying. She didn't have to know every instinct he had was telling him to grab that rifle and put one of the two remaining rounds through his own eye socket.
Amy tore open the food pouch and scooped her hand in, the thick cold concoction was mainly rice and vegetables, she looked back inside before handing it to Peter.
“There you go, don't eat it all at once.” Peter smiled and looked inside before gratefully wolfing down the contents.
“I've had better curries, but it has its charm. It just needs a bottle of Cobra to wash it down with.”
Beer would have been a nice touch, but a few litres of water would have been even better. A few days without food was possible, even with their previous minimal calorie intake. But they hadn't had so much as a drop of muddy rainwater in hours, the eas
y option was to find one of the areas Kenneth had marked as having supplies. An easier option was to find a recently inhabited house and drinking a bathtub full of tap water. Better risk that now rather than later. Amy finished her handful of cold biryani and could feel it passing down her throat.
“We'll check out the next property to bed down for the night.” Peter was pleased that he wasn’t the one to suggest it.
Natasha was suffering far more than her prey through lack of sustenance. She had never allowed it to get too bad. She always saved a little something back, but now had nothing. She began to worry, what if she became like the others, a base unthinking beast? She was still Natasha at the moment, fitter, more beautiful and with more interesting dietary requirements than before, but she was still herself, barely. She sat behind a van that had slid onto its side, she could smell them from their briefest of contact when they walked through the area. Her skin was sweaty, the viscous grey liquid had a meaty aroma, its smelled nearly good enough to eat but when she had given it a lick it had tasted the same as the dead. A few hundred metres down the road a handful of feeders shuffled closer. They weren't a concern for her, maybe they too could smell the fresh meat. She didn't need the competition but if there were only a few of them they'd prove easy enough to dispatch. Natasha peeked around the corner of the van, Amy and Peter were standing in silence as Amy was examining their map. Natasha felt something close, breathing on her ankle, its warm breath was wet. Natasha froze, not sure what it was. It couldn't be more dangerous than her. She was of no interest to the dead and a human wouldn't likely to be licking her calf. It tickled. Slowly she turned her head, an Alsatian sheepishly licked away enjoying her tasty sweat.
“Come here fella, are you all alone?” Natasha beckoned it over and it gingerly approached.
A social beast, it hadn't seen a friendly face for a long time. It wanted a friend nearly as much as it wanted a belly full of food. Gently she offered her hand, it accepted and licked it. They locked eyes as her hand moved first under its chin then behind its ear. That was the spot, they both relaxed and the good boy began to pant as Natasha really went to work giving him the contact he so desired. He was getting the only thing he truly wanted. She was about to get what she truly wanted too.
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