by Ryan Casey
“Come on,” Riley said. He held out his good hand.
Trevor nodded and grabbed Riley’s hand, pulling himself up to his feet. “Thanks.”
They each grabbed their trollies and walked out of the rear exit door.
Outside, people swarmed out of the main doors like ants, retreating to their nests. Cars were stacked up in a large, spiralling queue. Horns honked. Windows cracked as people jostled their way free.
“No chance Anna’s stuck around,” Trevor said. He slumped against the trolley and smacked his fist into the tins.
Riley examined his watch. Twenty-three minutes past eight. Anna would be long gone. She’d probably have left before the commotion properly started. He let go of his trolley and shook his head. “What now?”
Trevor shrugged. “We take the road. Hope we stumble upon an abandoned car when we’re out of this place. Priority is getting out of here.”
Engines revved up. Somewhere by the exit, there was a scream. Car horns pipped and honked to their right, to their left, everywhere.
“We might find a car on the main road. But we’ll be lucky. And we both saw what it was like on our way down.”
A car horn continued to honk to their left. It seemed further away from the other cars. And why would it be honking?
Riley turned and saw exactly why it was.
It was the red Mercedes. Across the street, outside of the car park and away from the traffic. Anna waved madly in their direction.
“Holy shit, it’s her,” Riley said.
Trevor turned around, serious-faced. When he saw what Riley saw, a smile twitched at the edges of his mouth for the very first time.
Riley reached for his trolley again. Pushed it forward, over to the other side of the car park. She was a matter of metres away. All this time, and she’d waited for them.
Trevor followed closely behind. They ran over the grass, then over the pavements and across the road. When they reached the Mercedes, Anna lurched the car forward, teasingly, then reversed again. She wound down her window.
“What the fuck kept you two so long?”
Riley and Trevor raised their eyebrows. “It’s a long story. But we’ve… we’ve got the stuff.”
The boot clicked open. Trevor lifted it and started to throw the tins inside. Riley stuffed a few bottles of water under his arms and tossed those in.
“No trouble getting hold of bottled water by the looks of things?”
Riley shook his head. “Don’t even get me started.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Riley closed his eyes and rested his head against the car window. Images from the supermarket replayed in his mind’s eye. The wrench, leaving his hand and crashing through the surgery window. Pete’s jabbing knife dropping to the floor as his arm disappeared from sight underneath a pile of creatures. Pete’s wife. Scared. Alone. Afraid.
“You shouldn’t lean on the window.” Anna had been relatively talkative when Riley and Trevor had got in the car. But now, she seemed more reluctant. Now she’d seen the blood on their hands, and in Trevor’s case, his entire face. “Wouldn’t… Wouldn’t want one of those things to grab you.”
Riley straightened his neck onto the headrest and opened his eyes. They were on the main road again, travelling in the direction of the Chinese restaurant. They’d be back soon. Back to normality. Except it wasn’t normal. Not after the things they’d been through. Not after the things they’d had to do.
Anna slowed the car down and manoeuvred it around a half-open door of an abandoned car. “You did good, though. Getting all that water. And all those cans.” She nodded in her rear-view mirror at Trevor. Trevor stared on, silent. The nurse’s dried blood coated his face. “I got us some meat and veg. A few things for the kids. Mini sausages, things like that. Hey… I had to kill one too, y’know? You aren’t alone in this.”
Riley gritted his teeth. She had no idea what he’d had to do.
The car sped up again. The mass of abandoned vehicles grew smaller as they left them behind. Anna tutted and exhaled, agitated. “You’re going to have to toughen up if you want to survive this. Can’t start moping every time we go on a supply—”
“I let two people die,” Riley said.
Anna turned slowly and looked at Riley. She cleared her throat. Tried to disguise her shock. “You… Are you okay?”
He stared out at the road. The fields passed by. Wooden blockades covered the windows of the various country houses. He’d partly told the truth. He’d killed Pete — as good as. He’d allowed Pete’s wife to be devoured by her own husband.
But it was Jordanna who still haunted Riley. Her wide, bloodshot eyes as Ted and he accelerated away from her, trapped at the side of that tanker.
Then looking back and seeing the mob of creatures crowded around her. Lost in a sea of agony and death.
“Well, hey. If you need to… y’know. Talk it out or whatever.” She rested her hand on his forearm.
He flinched slightly, then allowed it to stay there. He looked at her nervously, his eyes twitching, and half-smiled.
“I let my friends die.”
The voice startled Riley at first. He turned around. Trevor was still staring into space. He rubbed his temples with the ends of his fingers.
“You—”
“In the city. There were four of us. Fooling around. Free running and parkour and all that shit. And then this man comes up to D-Job… Dave. This man comes up to him and wraps his arms around him. Me and the rest of the boys are all laughing. Shouting at him and cussing. But then he looks up — this old fella, tramp sort of guy — he looks up and he’s got a chunk of D-Job’s neck in his mouth.” Tears rolled down Trevor’s cheeks. His bottom lip quivered.
“And then the other boys. Pal and Little Si. They go up to this tramp and start kicking the shit out of him. But I froze. The blood — it froze me. And then… D-Job bit into Pal’s ankle. And then it was just Little Si and he was cornered and I…” He gulped. “I ran.”
Riley turned to Anna and back to Trevor. He had his head in his hands. He pulled his hood up and sat back. The tears crawling down his cheeks were still visible even though his eyes were covered.
Riley nodded. “You did what you had to do. We… We’ve all had to make some tough decisions. But they don’t define us. What we were, when this whole thing broke out. That’s not us now. It can’t be. We have to be strong. But we have to be open. Right?” He looked at Anna for approval.
Anna’s eyes were welled up. She remained focused on the road. They were deep in the countryside again now. An element of peace returned. Fewer abandoned cars. Fewer bodies staggering around the streets. “Do you really believe that?”
Jordanna’s face. The fear. “Please.”
“I have to. We all have to.”
The Mercedes pulled in beside the Previa in the Chinese restaurant and pharmacy car park. Trevor got out first and headed straight for the boot, bundling as many tins and cans into the bottom of his hoodie as possible. Stan was peering out of the upstairs window as Riley and Anna stepped out and picked up some shopping of their own.
The front door of the Chinese restaurant opened.
It was Ted.
Riley rushed towards him and dumped the water bottles into his hands.
“And there I was thinking you were going to give me a hug!” Ted said. He smiled at Riley and nodded. “You… okay?”
Riley looked back at Anna, who threw various items of food into a large, white carrier bag. They exchanged a brief glance.
“Haven’t gone and pulled the fit nurse while you’ve been away, have you? Please say no. I mean, fair game if you have, but… Oh, hello little one. What do you think you’re doing here?” Ted patted Claudia’s daughter, Elizabeth, on the head. “A right handful this one. But she’s my mate, eh?”
Elizabeth giggled and shook her head. “Me and Chloë think you smell!” She ran back into the kitchen.
“Making friends I see?” Riley said.
Ted laughed. �
��Something like that. They’re okay really. Stan’s a tough nut, but he’s a big softie deep down. I think. And Claudia and her kids — they’re just regular people.”
“Okay, okay, time for catch up is later,” Anna said. She shoved past Riley with her carrier bag full of goods and walked into the restaurant.
“Pleasure to see you too, darling,” Ted said.
The pair of them walked to the boot of the car and grabbed the remaining water bottles and tins.
“The black dude. What’s his name?”
“Trevor,” Riley said.
“Trevor. He… What’s with him? He looked a mess. Drenched in blood.”
Riley slammed the car boot. Looked down the street. Still all clear. Birds chirped in the trees. Decidedly normal considering the circumstances. “We had a rough run at the supermarket. But we’re here. And that’s the main thing, right?”
“Right,” Ted said. They walked through the door. Riley breathed in deeply. Smelled like home. Almost.
Claudia poked her head around the top of the stairs. Her other daughter, Chloë, was beside her. “You’re back.” She smiled.
“Indeed I am,” Riley said. “Everybody keeping okay?”
“As well as we can be. Ted’s great with the girls though. Isn’t that right, kids?”
Chloë stuck her tongue out at Ted. He put his hands behind his ears and waved them like he was a monster.
“I… I guess you’ll be staying?”
Riley and Ted turned to one another. Shrugged. “I think so. If that’s okay with—”
“If I had it my way, you wouldn’t have even had a chance to prove yourself in the first bloody place.”
Riley’s stomach sank. Stan.
He pushed past Claudia and climbed down the stairs before squaring up to Riley. His cheeks were red and his eyelids twitched. “These idiots had a lot of hope in you.”
Riley held his stare. Swallowed the lump in is throat. “And I came through. I—”
“But,” Stan said, holding his hand in Riley’s face. “You came through. You came back with food and water. So fair play for that.” He held his hand out.
Riley examined Stan’s extended hand with surprise for a few moments. He turned to Ted and to Claudia, almost expecting some kind of trick. He grabbed it, and shook.
Stan tightened his grip and stepped closer to Riley. “But I’m watching you. Closely. Any fuck ups and you’re out of here. I don’t care how sore your friend’s foot is or how much of a clown he’s being with the kids. No screwing up. I’ll see to it myself if I have to.”
Riley grimaced as Stan’s grip tightened. His hand stung and he yanked it back.
Stan looked down at his hand, frowning. There was a line of blood across it from the cut on Riley’s palm. Stan noticed the cut, then exhaled loudly out of his nose and shook his head.
“I’m sorry, I—”
“We’ll let this go,” Stan said. “Just this once. But only because I have a bed-ridden wife to check up on.” He turned away and climbed the first few steps.
“Let me,” Riley said. “I… I’ll check on your wife. See she’s okay. It’s… It’s the least I can do. I got her some cough sweets.”
Stan peered at Riley, as if he was looking inside him for some sort of ulterior motive. He grunted. “I guess. Just don’t get too close or she’ll coat you in germs. As much as I’d like to see that, it wouldn’t be ideal right now.” He walked back down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll get started on lunch and dinner. Ted, Claudia — a hand, please?”
Ted rolled his eyes. “Like I said. He’s all soft inside really.”
“Yeah. He really seems it.”
Ted smacked Riley on the arm. “Good to have you back, mate. Get something on that hand, though. Can’t have these things sniffing us out.”
“They aren’t sharks, Ted.”
Ted stuck his bottom lip out as he walked into the kitchen area. “How do you know?”
Claudia followed Ted into the kitchen. “Thanks again,” she said as she passed Riley. “We… we really appreciate what you’ve done. For us. It’s good to be able to… to trust someone.”
Riley nodded. “Any time. Just not too often.”
Claudia grinned. “Come on, girls — let’s help The Grinch cook some food.”
“‘The Grinch?’”
Claudia put her finger over her lips. “Between the four of us, okay?”
“Did somebody say ‘Grinch’?” Stan shouted.
Riley, Claudia and her two daughters all silently sniggered before the latter three joined Ted and Stan in the kitchen, leaving Riley on his own.
Riley climbed the stairs. He felt a smile on his face. A true, warm smile. Ted was right — these people were okay really. Stan was a tough nut, but a group needed that sort of character in times like these. Claudia and her daughters, they were sweet. Maintained a sense of hope within. And the others — Trevor, Anna — they had their secrets but their motives were in the right place. Anna was right — everybody had their secrets.
Riley whistled as he reached the top of the stairs and walked down the corridor. The room Ted and he had slept in was on his right. The bathroom was at the end. He could hear a shower — either Anna or Trevor had beaten him to it. He allowed himself to consider Anna showering her smooth skin for a few brief seconds before stopping at the door opposite his room where Stan’s wife, Jill, was resting.
He knocked on the door. “Jill? It’s Riley. The… The new guy. Just checking you’re okay?”
No reply.
Riley waited a few seconds. She was probably sleeping. He knocked on the door again and turned the handle. “You okay in there?”
The smell hit him first. He tumbled back and covered his mouth and nose. A rotting stench. He raised his head, still covering his mouth. Heat radiated from the room. A tiny speck of light peeked through the dark curtains.
“Jill?” Riley stepped into the room. He could see her on the bed. She was lying on her back underneath the flowery quilt. Her feet, which poked out of the end of the quilt, moved, and she rolled onto her side.
Riley stopped. His hand lowered from his face, almost automatically. Dread welled up inside him. His heart raced. His fingers tingled. His head grew heavy, as if the ceiling was falling down on him and the walls were closing in.
Jill let out a pained groan.
Riley turned on the light switch as Jill tumbled out of the bed and stepped up.
Her eyes were grey and glassy. The flower prints he’d thought he’d seen on the bed were not flower prints, but blood. There was a hole in her flabby upper arm.
She growled at Riley and lurched forward, bearing her dentures. Pieces of flesh were wedged between them. Her own flesh.
“Everything okay up there?” Stan called.
Jill was sick. Very sick.
“Ye… Yes,” Riley shouted, as Jill let out another throaty groan and staggered towards him.
How the hell had this happened?
EPISODE THREE
The darkness was closing in earlier every night as autumn progressed. Crispy brown leaves brushed along the ground in the cool breeze. Eight to nine hours of daylight was all people had. After those eight to nine hours were over, it was time to hide inside. Close the curtains. Tape them together to make sure the tiniest cracks of light were kept inside. Lower tones to a hush. It was hardly the most aggressive form of warfare, but it was the most logical.
The A6 running through Barton used to be lively at six p.m. on a Friday night. School kids would gather on the park to celebrate the end of a long and arduous week of double mathematics and after-school detentions. Young professionals would rush into the Chinese takeaway for a fried, soy-sauce-drenched end of week treat. The place was alive. Not buzzing, but alive.
Now, it wasn’t quite dead yet. Not like the rest of the surrounding areas. But it was close. Everything died at some stage.
The bicycle moved slowly down the street. The pedals squeaked slightly as they turned
, but only loud enough to keep the creatures curious. Quiet enough to give the cyclist enough time to do what they had to do.
They reached into the basket and cringed. The animal was still damp with blood. There was no guarantee this was even going to work. It hadn’t worked the last time they’d tried.
But perseverance was key. That’s what they’d been told. They’d catch them off guard, eventually.
They pulled the dead squirrel out of the basket and dropped it onto the road. It plopped onto the concrete, its tiny worm-like intestines spewing out of the cut down its chest. Poor thing. It was a shame that animals always had to be the subject of human experiments, even in this new, developing world.
But this was a much more important study than cosmetics testing.
They wiped their bloody hands on their coat and closed the basket. No time for hanging around. The results of this experiment would be visible tomorrow morning. If it worked, it would be clear to see.
They stepped on the pedal, winced as they cycled over the animal, and moved further down the road. When they were ten metres or so ahead, they stopped again, reached into the basket, and pulled out another dead animal.
They looked back down the road. The animals were running low, but this should be close enough. Especially with the raised voices. The clearly visible lights and silhouettes moving in the window. Foolish. Although naivety was easy to sympathise with, there was no room for it in a world as dangerous as this.
They shook their head, closed the basket, and cycled away.
Several hundred metres behind, a creature feasted on a dead rabbit. It groaned, and another creature joined it. Fresh meat. Not live, but close enough. Still warm. The creatures jostled over the dead animal before one of them followed the tire tracks of blood with their tongue.
At the end of this trail of tire tracks, the creature found a treat of its own. Groaned as it sunk its teeth into the brittle skull of a blackbird. The other creatures heard the noise, and they followed.