The Purple Haze

by Gary Richardson

  Mike didn't know what to say. He felt slightly bad for having practically begged him to stay. James moved to the blinds and slowly pulled them apart. He looked out and saw that the fog had lifted slightly more. He could see some of the creatures out there, staggering aimlessly. He couldn't see many but he knew he would be able to quickly make it past the few that were out there. He let the blinds close again. He turned around and saw Mike still standing there. He side stepped past him into the entrance hall again, and found the rest of the group standing there looking at him. “You'll all be okay,” he said to them.

  “It's you I'm thinking about,” said Martin, “what are you going to do if you find them?”

  “I have enough stuff at my house to hold out for a while,” James answered.

  “And if you don't find them?” Martin asked.

  James didn't answer straight away. The possibility of not finding them was not an option to him. It was either find them or die trying. He looked at Martin. “Then I'll figure something out.”

  James walked to the door and unlocked it. He opened it slightly. He couldn't see any of the things out there. He plotted his path in his mind and closed the door again. He looked around at the group, all of them still with a look of hope in their eyes that he might stay, but nothing was going to change his mind. Mike walked closer to him.

  “Are you sure we can't convince you to stay?” he asked.

  James nodded. “I'm sure, Mike.” James removed his radio from his jacket and handed it to Mike. “It’s better if you keep this.”

  Mike looked at the radio in his hand. “How will we keep in touch?” he asked.

  “I think that it's best we don't.” James opened the door and looked out again. His path was still clear. He looked back at the group. “Lock this up after me, won't you?” he said, and he was gone. Mike looked out after him and saw him running back towards the road they had come up the day before, then he turned a corner and disappeared out of sight. Mike felt like he had lost someone close to him. He had only known him three days, and the circumstances they had met in were unlike anything ever witnessed in the history of the human race, but he considered him a friend. He closed the door and locked it. He turned to rest of the group and looked at them. He could tell they all felt what he did in one way or another.

  * * *

  A couple of hours had passed since James had left, and the survivors gathered in the main hall again. Not much had been said, they had just made sure that they had fed and watered themselves so that they at least had the energy to stay awake. They all had the same feeling, and that feeling was hopelessness. It was obvious that no rescue would be coming and that whatever surviving they had to do, they had to do it alone. Having no way of contacting James and no means of going after him now, he might as well have been dead to them. They knew the sooner they all accepted this, the sooner they could get back to trying to make some kind plan.

  Looking around at the entrance hall, Mike could see that they were quite well guarded, and the building could be defended in the event of attack. The windows weren't strong enough to withstand multiple creatures bashing them, but as long as they stayed covered there was no reason why the things outside would try and break in. They all had guns, so if the need to arose, everyone could defend themselves in the event of a mass breach and it became every man for himself. They had enough food to last a couple of days, longer if they rationed it, and water as well. Once they had gathered their thoughts and recovered their strength, they could try and come up with some kind of escape route. For the mean time he would let them rest. As a civil servant, it was his responsibility to get them out, and he needed everyone to be able to stand and fight. Dave wouldn't be an issue. They could all pitch in and help him. Mike's own doubts about his own ability to help these people were starting to disperse. Nobody was to be left behind, not while he was in charge.

  After another lengthy period of silence, Mike decided the time was right to try and get a plan together to get everyone out of the community centre, and then out of the country in general. It was no use thinking short term, they had to come up with a long term plan and stick to it in order to survive. He herded everyone together in the entrance hall where there were comfy seats, and called a meeting. “We need a plan,” he said. “I'm putting it to everyone in here that the six of us have to escape. Not just this building or the town, but England.” He stopped to observe the reactions of the group, all of whom looked at each other with confused faces. Mike continued. “There is no way of telling if this has spread the whole length of the country, but we need to assume it has, and think only in the long term. If anybody has an idea, I'm happy to hear it.”

  The group all looked at each other. Gaz was the first to speak. “What if we stayed here and did supply runs? Those things are pretty slow. We could probably just slip by them.”

  “Yes we could,” Mike answered, “but all's it takes is for one of them to know where we are. If they see us they'll follow us wherever we go, and all that moaning they do will just attract others. Once they are attacking us in mass we won't stand a chance.”

  “He's right,” said Martin. “If we are to leave this building, it can only be the once and we can't come back. Mike's right about them. They seem to react to sound pretty well, and with just one of them moaning like that, others are sure to come.”

  “So what can we do?” asked Yvonne.

  “That's what I want to know,” said Mike.

  The group went quiet again. They all thought about what could possibly be done to get themselves out of this mess. Colin was the first to speak up. “What about boats?” he said.

  “Boats?” said Dave.

  “Yeah, the docks in Preston have boats on them. We could try and get there and take one of them.”

  “Colin, Preston is miles away and the roads are clogged with cars and those things,” said Gaz. “Suppose you are right Martin, and once we leave this building we can't come back. We need somewhere with a low population and a secure, simple line of defence.”

  “Unfortunately that doesn't exist anymore,” said Mike.

  “We don't know that,” said Martin.

  “What about Dave?” said Gaz. “What's he going to do on that leg? He isn't going to get very far.”

  “We'll help him,” said Mike, “but you don't seem to appreciate the situation we are in. If we are attacked here, they will overrun us, and kill us. Same stands for any house or building we go to. If we go for the boats, you said so yourself that the roads are clogged with cars and those things. Either way we die. But at least in going for the boats we have a chance. If we can get there, we can get off Britain and find somewhere.”

  “Martin, what do you think?” said Gaz.

  “I'm with Mike on this one,” said Martin. “Whatever we do, it isn't going to be easy, but staying here we're like fish in a barrel. Out there at least we have an infinite number of escape routes.”

  Gaz threw his arms in disbelief. “What? You are actually going to listen to rent a cop here?”

  Mike was obviously offended, and stood up in protest at this. “Shut your mouth, you bitter little bastard!” he said. “If you want to stay here then go ahead, I won't stop you, but see how long you last!”

  Gaz stood up to defend himself. Martin stood also, trying to calm the situation. “Gaz, shut up and sit down!” he shouted. Gaz did as he was told and slouched back into his seat. Martin raised his hand and pointed at him. “You need to remember your place here. Without everyone else in this room you are only one man, and one man alone isn't going to hold up against what's out there. Get this through your skull, because I'm only going to say this once. You stay here, you are a dead man. Either help us, or keep your mouth shut, because I'm getting tired of you myself now. What's it to be?”

  Gaz sighed deeply. He looked around at the group, all of whom were staring at him, Yvonne looking the most uncomfortable and sat there holding her gun as though ready to use it in defence. “Fine,” he said. “What is your o
rder, fearless leader?”

  Martin shook his head and walked away. Like he said, he was tired of Gaz's pointless and nonsensical arguments. “Like I said, I agree with Mike. We need to get out of England, and Colin's idea is a great one. It's risky, but at sea we can't be attacked. It's the best option.”

  “When are we leaving?” asked Yvonne.

  “I think we should leave it until tomorrow,” said Mike, “too much of the day has gone already. If we leave at dawn, we can make the best use of the light and have the maximum visibility all the way there.”

  “I agree,” said Martin.

  “Me too,” said Colin

  “And me,” Yvonne said.

  Gaz looked around to see everyone looking at him again. He rolled his eyes at them. “Yes, I agree too,” he said, sounding like a child being forced into agreeing to do it's parents' bidding, and slouched so far back in his chair anyone could have thought he was willing the chair to swallow him whole.

  “Dave, are you going to be okay with this?” said Martin, looking over at Dave. Dave was sat there staring into space. His breathing had become rapid and his skin was pale, glistening in the light, soaked in sweat. The whole group became concerned at once.

  “Dave?” said Colin

  Dave didn't reply and went to stand up. His legs were shaky as held onto his crutch. As soon as he was on his feet, he fell sideways. On the floor he began shaking violently, as though in the hold a massive seizure. He was screaming in pain all the way through it. The group leapt to his side and tried to hold him still, but his thrashing was too violent for them to control. He thrashed about for what seemed like forever, but eventually it subsided, and he then lay there still on the floor. The group all stood staring at him. Martin crouched down by his side.

  “Is he dead?” asked Gaz.

  Martin pressed his fingers against the side of Dave's neck and felt a pulse. It was very quick, and he watched and saw his chest rising and falling, also quicker than would be expected when someone was unconscious. “No, he's not dead.” said Martin.

  “Let me check something,” said Mike. He moved to Dave's wrapped leg and began unravelling the bandages. As he got down the layers, they became more and more discoloured, until eventually they were a deep reddish brown colour. He removed them completely to reveal Dave's bare leg, now looking more dead and rotten than it had done the first morning after he was bitten. The boils had spread the entire length of his leg, and along the way the older ones had burst, and now looked like ulcers, constantly weeping blood and puss. The smell it was giving off caused the group to recoil and cover their noses and mouths. They all stood there, helpless and unsure of what to do. It was Gaz who finally spoke. “I guess we are staying put then.”

  * * *

  James had been on the move for hours. He left the community centre and had slowly retraced his route back as far as the junction with Hough Lane, but went straight past it, heading up Churchill Way towards his home. He still had about a mile to go. The road so far hadn't been too difficult for him. Now that the fog had cleared slightly more since the previous day, the added visibility had allowed him to evade the creatures easily for the best part of the day. Mostly they were spread out, anything from twenty to a hundred yards separating them, and they could be passed just by slowly jogging and weaving in and out through the spaces. He had had to fight a couple of them, but he hadn't had to fire off a single shot to defend himself, which he was relieved about because the last thing he wanted was every creature in ear shot homing in on him.

  When he turned the corner to his estate and stopped to survey the area, his heart sank. He had hoped that he would come back to see the street unchanged. The houses lined on either side would be just as they were, and his house, second from the end on the right, would be standing there, welcoming, beautiful, and filled with hope. What he saw was a road filled with gore and creatures. Something big had happened in this road, his home of the last seven years. He quickly counted eleven of the creatures, all moving slowly and fumbling their steps as they went, he saw a couple of them tripping over the curb and, not having the brain power to put their hands out to stop themselves falling, they landed on their faces, making a sickening squelch as their deformed features met the tarmac.

  James thought about what to do quickly. He slowly moved down the road with his MP5 raised at eye level, ready to fire if he had to. The creatures were too closely grouped together to weave round them. He would have to get as close as possible and start shooting. If he could just get through his door and lock it, he would be secure inside. He had enough supplies and weapons in there to fend them off. He edged closer, and as he went, two of the creatures spotted him coming. They raised their arms, as though reaching for him, and began stumbling forward, an awkward dance of death coming towards him. As soon as one of them let out that airy, wheezy moan, the others all looked and did the same, as though animated and moving as one, and let out the same moan in unison. James looked at the mob of creatures coming towards him and played his hand.

  The first bullet fired hit the lead creature straight in the forehead, dropping it like a test dummy. The second bullet hit one of them in the lower jaw, ripping the lower part of its face through the back of its head. The bullet severed its spinal column and it fell, the body lifeless but the eyes still moving frantically from side to side. James fired in one second intervals, taking a step forward after every kill. He reduced the creatures to five, then four, and then he heard a click. Still, four creatures remained. He pulled the trigger again and nothing happened. It then occurred to him that in his haste to get away from the others and back to his family he had forgotten to check the ammo count in his loaded magazine. He had no more loaded magazines for the machine gun, and only his pistol as backup. He threw the MP5 at the next creature, hitting it square in the face. He pulled out his pistol and flicked the safety off, then resumed firing. He fired one round, then another. Every shot counted and met its desired target with deadly accuracy.

  The last creature fell and James stopped, the sound of his final shot still ringing in the air. He listened and heard what he had feared. Masses of moans filled the air, some sounding like howls and others like growls. He looked around him and resurveyed the area and saw that other creatures were now coming down the street. He even watched as some stood up from behind garden walls, and noticed the unmistakable grey suit of his next door neighbour adorning one of the creatures. He wasn't worried yet, the adrenaline was still pumping and he was caught in the grips of a blood lust. He wanted more. He wanted to take them all down. He ejected the clip from his pistol and checked it. “Eleven rounds left,” he thought, “better make them count.”

  He turned on his heels and walked to his house with the creatures from the gardens coming towards him. He tried the door handle but couldn't move it. He reached into his pockets and removed his keys. While finding the correct key, he looked over his shoulder to see one of the creatures coming close. He put it down with a well-aimed shot. He turned back to the door and unlocked it, opened it and entered the house.

  Once inside, James quickly closed and locked the door again. The UPVC door was tough and lined with steel. The creatures wouldn't be able to break it down. His only fear was that they may be able to break the double glazing. He had to be quick. He began looking around frantically. He called his wife's name over and over, and the names of his children. He got no response. He only had chance to check the kitchen before he looked back at the living room window to see the creatures already upon it, the distorted features of his next door neighbour at the forefront. They were clawing and biting at it, every touch leaving streaks of puss and blood. Some began banging against it and as the crowd gathered, they began to be pressed against it. He remembered the bank and hoped it would hold, but these windows weren't designed for this. The first layer of the glazing began to crack under the pressure. He ran back to the kitchen and picked the meat cleaver out from the knife rack and re-entered the living room. He stood there and waited,
the blood lust not lost within him. This was his house, and he was going to defend it. The first layer of glazing cracked completely and fell away, the faces of the creatures at the front now pressed against the second pane.

  James waited in anticipation for the fight, his adrenaline at an all-time high in his body. “Come on!” he shouted at them. The glass gave and the top halves of the creatures at the front were forced through the window. The jagged edges of the glass still stuck in the frame punctured their mid sections causing a heavy flow of blood to run down the walls beneath the window ledge. His next door neighbour hung there, trying to pull himself up but to avail. The creatures behind reached inwards towards James using the impaled bodies of their comrades to crawl up through the window, and James began firing his pistol. He fired once, and a creature fell. He fired a second time and another one fell. His firing was short lived and after ten creatures went down the slide on his pistol locked back and fired no more. This didn't stop him though. He waded in among them now, in close combat, hacking away at their skulls with his meat cleaver. Bits of skull and brain fell away from the creatures heads, the blood and puss sprayed the faces of the others and before he knew it, James looked as one of them, covered head to toe in a putrid stench of gore. He fought on but there were too many. One swiped at him and knocked him back, allowing three of them to fall through the window into the living room with him. He went straight back into the fray and began hacking at them, but while he dealt the blows to these three, more were coming in through the window.

  James realised he couldn't hold the downstairs floor any more. Resigning to this loss, he made his way up the stairs quickly. He reached the top and looked back, seeing several of the creatures coming up behind him. He stood his ground at the top. He waited, biding his time. As soon as the lead creature was in arms reach, he struck a downward blow with such force it clove the head in two. He tried to reclaim the cleaver, but it stuck fast. He saw more of them coming up the stairs behind and thinking on his toes, he released the meat clever and kicked the creature hard in the stomach, sending it flying back down the stairs into the oncoming rabble. Several fell under it, but for each one that fell there were five more now, waiting to take its place on the stairs.