The Purple Haze

by Gary Richardson

  Martin hushed her. “Try and keep your voice down, we don't know what's outside.” He moved between the front seats to the back and helped Yvonne through with him. The two of them crouched next to Mike. “Help me roll him onto his back,” Martin said, and the two of them gently moved Mike so he was led on his back. They looked at him and saw he was definitely breathing, but the impact had burst his nose, probably broken it. 'Luckily he had slumped on his front like that' Martin thought. With all the blood he could see he would have choked on it if he had landed on his back. He shook him carefully to get a response, and to his surprise Mike responded. He began stirring and slowly opened his eyes. As Martin watched, he saw his eyes go from sleepy to wide, and his face contorted in pain. He screamed aloud and reached out for his leg. Martin put his hand over Mike's mouth to mask the noise and made ‘shush’ noises to try and get him to keep quiet. Mike’s muffled scream changed to a muffled whimper, and Martin moved his hand away. “Where are you hurting?” Martin asked him.

  “It's my knee,” Mike said through gritting teeth.

  Yvonne carefully rolled up Mike's pant leg to just above the knee. They all looked at his knee and saw that the knee cap had been jolted sideways and now settled in a place where it looked like a bulbous growth on the side of the joint.

  “Apart from the knee, do you hurt anywhere else?” Marin asked.

  Mike patted his body with his hands and looked at each of his arms. He couldn't feel any other pain and both his arms moved. “No,” he said.

  “OK, we need to try and get you out of here,” Martin said, and he looked around for anything he could find to use as a splint. The first thing he thought of was his battered rifle. He moved back to the cab and picked it up. He ejected the magazine and pulled back on the slide to eject the round from the chamber. He brought it back and put it up alongside Mike's leg.

  “What are you going to do with that?” Mike asked.

  “We need to get a splint on you and get you out of here,” Martin said, “we're still about half a mile from the harbour.”

  Grabbing whatever rags he could find around the back of the van, Martin tied the assault rifle to the side of Mike's leg as tight as he could. Yvonne looked around the van and only now realised that Gaz was missing. “Where's Gaz?” she said.

  “I don't know, but we can't hang around,” Martin said, “If he's alive he knows where we are heading. He'll have to meet us there.”

  Mike grabbed the collar of Martin's boiler suit. “We can't leave him,” he said. “We've made it this far, we can't leave him behind.”

  “We won't.” Martin looked around the van and saw the other guns they had scattered about. He gathered them and handed them back to their rightful owners. He looped Mike's MP5 around his neck and handed Yvonne her pistol. He looked around for Gaz's gun, but couldn't find it. He found this promising, because he knew if Gaz was to leave on foot, he would definitely have taken his gun with him. Martin also saw the grenades from the bag strewn about the place. He picked up a couple and pocketed them, and also picked up the radio James had given him back at the community centre.

  “All right, Yvonne, help me get him out of here,” Martin said, and he started to drag Mike backwards towards the door. As he did, the noise and clatter that was created was deafening in comparison to the hushed voices they had been speaking in. The rifle strapped to Mike's leg squeaked along the roof of the van, and the rest of the debris clattered around on the metal as he dragged him. Martin had made it almost to the door when he heard something else. He stopped a second and listened. It was footsteps. It sounded like only one pair, but they were definitely there, and coming closer. Martin let go of Mike and turned around, his pistol held ready. The steps grew louder, then suddenly stopped. Martin could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel himself perspiring, and he held his breath so he could hear more clearly and hold his pistol more steadily. “Martin?” said a voice, and Martin recognised it immediately.

  “Gaz?” Martin called, and lowered his gun. The footsteps came again, and Gaz's face appeared around the door. “Where the hell did you go, man?”

  “To find a way to the harbour,” he said. “I was coming back for you, I promise.”

  “Well the fact that you're here proves that,” Martin said, “I thought you'd done a Pete and left us you prat. Did you find a way?”

  “Yeah,” Gaz said, “it's through some buildings over there.”

  “Are any of those things out there?” Yvonne asked.

  “I didn't see many,” Gaz said, “but we can get around them.”

  “That might not be so easy now,” Martin said, “Mike's knee is broken.”

  Gaz looked at the rifle strapped to the side of Mike's leg. “Shit,” he said out loud.

  “Help me with him,” Martin said, and the two of them grabbed Mike and dragged him out of the back of the van. The two of them bent down and helped him to his feet. Martin and Gaz put their arms around Mike's waist and he put his arms around their shoulders. They took a couple of steps then Mike stopped them.

  “I only need one of you,” Mike said.

  “I've got him,” said Gaz.

  Martin let go and stepped away. Mike held his gun ready to fire, and Gaz held his pistol in his free hand. Martin looked around. “Which way is it?” he asked.

  “It's over there,” Gaz pointed, “go past that car sales garage and follow the road”. “Right let's move it, it'll be completely dark soon,” Martin said. Slowly the group set off, following Gaz's direction, towards their one hope of survival.

  The group left the van behind and were moving quicker now, but the light was fading and darkness was closing around them quickly now. They passed the car sales garage and continued on as Gaz had said. They now came to a junction. Several buildings surrounded them, all of which were connected to the leisure industry. A cinema was on one corner, a gym on another and a fast food outlet on the other.

  “Which way is it, Gaz?” Martin asked.

  “Pass the cinema,” Gaz pointed with his one free hand, the other was still supporting Mike. The group headed in the direction Gaz pointed out. As they went, they kept their eyes open and their wits about them. The sky was clear and the moon was bright, so luckily they weren't going to be completely blind in the dark. They went as quickly as they could, and as they passed the cinema, they came into the middle of a shopping area. As they looked ahead they could see an opening of water, and the harbour was visible on the other side of it. They just had to make it around. “There it is,” said Gaz.

  Martin looked at him and smiled. “You did good Gaz, thanks for finding it.”

  The group looked at their goal. At the rate they were moving they knew they could make it there in less than twenty minutes. The pressed forward, Martin and Yvonne moving slightly ahead of Gaz and Mike. Martin and Yvonne passed an alley way running between two buildings, and Yvonne stopped as she heard something. Stepping out of the alley into the moonlight, there was a small group of creatures, appearing as suddenly as a stalking predator. If she knew they weren't intelligent she could have sworn that they were waiting for them, yet they came, a shambling mass of dead limbs. Like a choir they moaned aloud, and the group of creatures separated the survivors, Martin and Yvonne on one side and Mike and Gaz on the other.

  “Jesus!” Gaz yelled and turned quickly with Mike and took him back in the other direction.

  Backing away from the creatures, Martin shouted after him, “Find a way round! We'll meet you up ahead!” Martin went to run but noticed a creature getting too close for his liking. A well-aimed shot in the head fixed that problem, then he and Yvonne set off running. They ran along the road and were met by more creatures. They stopped and looked back to see that what they had perceived in the moonlight to be a small group was actually a large crowd, all huddled into the alley between the two buildings. They couldn't go back or forward.

  “This isn't good,” said Martin. He fired off two shots in quick succession, hitting two different cre
atures where it counted.

  Yvonne looked around desperately. She spotted another alley in the buildings. “There!” she pointed. The two of them headed down the alley which was 'L' shaped. It was clear of creatures, and they moved quickly down it. As they came round the corner they came to a dead end. The wall ahead of them was too high to scale.

  “Oh God,” Martin said, “This definitely isn't good!”

  “I'm sorry!” Yvonne said, almost crying now.

  “It's OK,” said Martin, looking around. He could hear the creatures coming down the alley. They couldn't go back, and they couldn't go forward. Panic was starting to affect Martin. He spotted a large dumpster near the end of the alley. “Get in there, quickly!” He ran towards the dumpster and pulled Yvonne behind him. He threw the lid open and helped Yvonne up and into the dumpster. Once she was in he climbed in himself. He pulled the lid closed just as the first of the creatures came around the corner of the alley.

  * * *

  Gaz was still helping Mike go as fast as they could. The creatures were in pursuit and the speed they were going there was no way they could lose them. They had made their way around the back of the building and were heading towards the water front, but as they drew near to it they saw another crowd of things come round the corner, coming towards them. Gaz kept moving forward, and thinking quickly he noticed a maintenance ladder for the building attached to the wall. A mesh gate attached to hinges was padlocked over it and covered the bottom ten feet. He got to the ladder and lent Mike against the wall. As soon he was able to aim freely, Mike switched the MP5 to semi-automatic and began taking shots at the creatures. This slowed them down, as the dead ones fell under the feet of the ones shambling after them and tripped them up, which bought the two of them some time.

  Gaz shot the padlock to ladder and the mesh swung open. He patted Mike on the shoulder. “Go, as fast as you can!” He helped Mike to the ladder.

  “You go first,” Mike said, “I'll hold them off.”

  “God, you're such a cop” Gaz said, “Just move your ass or we both die!”

  Gaz pushed Mike against the ladder, and he began climbing as quickly as he could. He had to reach up with both hands and pull his good leg up onto the rung, reach up and repeat the process. He was four rungs up when he looked around to the creatures getting dangerously close now. Gaz began shooting at them. He took a couple down on both sides of the horde, and then his gun clicked. He ejected the empty magazine and reloaded. He looked up to see the creatures closing fast, those milky eyes and yellowish teeth closing him down. He pulled the mesh ladder guard around on its hinges and created a barrier against the creatures coming from one direction, and continued firing at the other group. The first creatures pressed against the mesh, and Gaz leant against it and used his body weight to hold them back. He was surprised at how strong they were, and he looked to see was holding four of them back with others just steps behind. He wouldn't be able to hold them very long.

  Mike was high enough on the ladder now that Gaz would be able to begin climbing. He stopped and looked down. “Come on Gaz!” he shouted.

  Gaz looked up and saw Mike had made it quite high on the ladder, about half way to the top. Gaz fired at a couple more creatures coming at him, hitting them in the head, and then he went to begin his ascent. He moved just as the following creatures reached the mesh, and the mesh closed on him hard, pinning him against the ladder and stunning him for a second. He pushed back and gave himself enough room to climb. He had got about four rungs up when the hinges of the mesh gave in and the cover fell freely away from the wall. In a split second he saw several creatures reaching out for him, so he propelled himself upwards as high as he could reach, but it wasn't quite high enough. He grabbed the rung but, as he did, he felt hands all over the bottoms of his legs. He kicked out but there were too many to kick away. He felt the hands close around his legs and feet and begin pulling. He held on as tight as he could, but the accumulated strength of the creatures was too much. His feet slipped from the rung of the ladder, and his hands weren't far behind.

  Gaz's fall to the ground wasn't a fast one. The creatures bore the brunt of the fall, and he sort of slid through the mass of bodies to the ground, knocking a couple over as he went. Once he was on the floor, Gaz was panic stricken, but he wasn't giving up. He lashed out with his legs and tried moving backwards with his hands. He freed his legs from the grips of a couple of the creature's hands, but others just wouldn't let go. He fired his pistol forward, but the bodies the hands were attached to couldn't be hit as they were hidden behind other creatures. He felt hands on his shoulders and looked over it to a creature coming close. He fired at it, hitting it in the face. The hands slid from his shoulder but other hands were quick to replace them. He fired more randomly now, hitting anything anywhere, but then his gun clicked again. The hands on his shoulders pulled him back, and kicking and screaming he was pinned to the floor. He thrashed his body as hard as he could, but it was no use now. He felt teeth and the first bite came on his left leg. The pain was like nothing he had ever felt in his life and he let out a long scream of pain that made him go rigid for a second, then he continued thrashing about, half in pain and half in resistance to the creatures feeding on him.

  He felt a pinch on the left side of his ribs, closely followed by teeth and the feeling of a piece of his flesh being torn from his side. He yelled out again, then continued to thrash, but now it was just uncontrollable panic and pain stricken shaking. He felt teeth all over his arms and legs now, and the bites came in quick succession. He wanted to scream at each one, but all his body could manage were a series of shrill yelps. He felt his guts lurch as teeth penetrated the flesh on his stomach, and his mouth filled with blood. Gargling on his own blood now, Gaz continued screaming. The last thing he saw were blood red teeth coming towards his face. He managed to clear his head for a short second. “God, make it quick,” he thought, then he thought nothing more.

  * * *

  Martin and Yvonne kept quiet. The creatures outside the dumpster hadn't seen them climb inside it, but somehow, maybe by some unknown heightened sense of smell detecting an odour given off by the living lingering in the air outside, they knew that they were there. All they could do was sit there and wait. For what, they did not know. The dumpster stunk. It was half full off black bags, some of which were ripped and the contents had spilled out, a mix of rotting vegetables and used cardboard food boxes, the smells of which mixed in the air causing Martin and Yvonne to feel nauseous. Neither of the dumpster’s occupants could see the contents, but they could feel them, and from the touch and smell of them they guessed exactly what it was. In this horrid state, the two of them had to keep crouched in the most uncomfortable of positions and not vomit, afraid that the noise of any such action would attract the enemy outside to the exact location their whereabouts and that would be the end of them both.

  Martin tried his best to think of a way out of the situation, but this time he was beat. Nothing he could think of at that moment would get them out alive. He looked around himself the best he could, hoping that his eyes would somehow adjust to the dark, but there wasn't enough light for him to make anything out. Yvonne crouched next to him, huddled up against the metal side of the dumpster, quietly whimpering with uncontrollable breaths. It was obvious to Martin she was terrified, but there was nothing he could say that was going to make her feel any better. It was check mate. All the two of them could them could do was to sit and wait. To the two of them it seemed death was inevitable, but the question they asked was how would it come?

  “Martin?” Yvonne whispered.

  “What?” Martin answered as quietly as he could.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked him, hopeful he would have an answer.

  “I don't know Yvonne,” he said, “We can only hope that Gaz and Mike made it and they'll come and look for us.” Martin hadn't thought of this before, but when he said it he was trying to calm Yvonne down, but as he said it aloud he found himself fi
lled with a new hope. “Please have made it,” he thought to himself, and he reached out in the dark to Yvonne and found her hand. He squeezed it and she squeezed back.

  * * *

  Mike sat on the roof of the building looking down. In the moonlight he could make out the creatures below still feeding on what was left of Gaz, fighting amongst themselves like scavengers fighting over the scraps of some other predator's kill. He felt alone and he felt afraid. At the moment he heard Gaz's gunfire, he was at the top of the ladder and had to pull himself up to the roof. With the rifle strapped to his leg he couldn't manoeuvre himself on the ladder to see what was going on properly. Once he turned to look, it was too late. Gaz was surrounded and the first of the creatures had already bitten a chunk out of his leg. He couldn't even watch the kill after that. He could only listen to the screams coming from among the elevated moaning of the things below.

  He looked around himself and from where he was sat he couldn't see any other way off the roof other than the ladder he had used to get up there. He took the clip out of his MP5 and checked his bullet count. He had half a magazine left, enough for fifteen more shots on semi-automatic. Not enough to fight his way off if he had to, he told himself. He looked around again and could see the water reflecting the moonlight, and beyond that the silhouetted masts of the boats at the harbour.

  “So close,” he said aloud to himself, then slumped back and led looking up at the sky. As he lay there, he felt something prodding him in his lower back, something hard. He moved aside and felt for the object. As soon as he had picked it up, without even looking at it, he knew what it was. It was his radio. Hope and excitement filled him up, replacing the acceptance of defeat. If Martin still had the other radio he could tell him where he was and they could come back for him. He flicked the switch to on and began scrolling through the channels. At every channel he called Martin's name, but got no replies. His renewed sense of hope kept him trying.