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Collapse: Book four of Beyond These Walls - A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

Page 17

by Michael Robertson


  “But now you need to get to Artan, and you need Max for it, suddenly you can do it?”

  “It’s not like that,” Matilda said.

  “It sounds very like that to me.”

  “When we were in the labs,” Matilda said, “we saw how hard it was to get to Max. Hugh still hadn’t checked on his family, William hadn’t checked his parents, and I needed to get to Artan. We’d not seen Max to confirm he was in the cell—”

  “Although you had a pretty good idea he would be?” Olga said.

  “Maybe, but like with the people in ceramics, and like with the rookies in the national service area—”

  Olga’s face had grown redder as she leaned towards Matilda. “Rookies in the national service area?”

  Still the closest of the three to her, Hugh sighed and ran a hand over the top of his head. “There were some rookies on the roof of a dorm in the national service area. They needed help, but we left them because we couldn’t take them with us.”

  “The point is,” Matilda said, “people have died in this city. Lots of people. People we know. And there are people we can or could have saved, but to do that would be to jeopardise the lives of those we love. We care about Max, of course we do, but—”

  “He’s not as important to you as your loved ones?”

  Matilda shrugged. “You know what? I know it sounds cold—”

  “Stone cold.”

  Tears stood in Matilda’s eyes. “It’s hung over us since we’ve left him, but my main reason for being in this damn city is to get to Artan. Nothing can get in the way of that. Nothing.”

  “So why didn’t you tell me when you met me? Why did you lie?”

  “To save you—”

  “What? From myself? To stop me doing something stupid? Don’t patronise me, Matilda.”

  Tears now ran freely down Matilda’s cheeks. “No, to save you from having to live with the guilt of leaving Max in the labs. The same guilt we’ve had to live with. If you’d have gone back on your own, which you would have done because we needed to move forward and wouldn’t have come with you, you would have reached the same conclusion and walked away. You didn’t need that burden.”

  “Or you would have died trying,” Hugh said.

  “Well, maybe I’m smarter than you lot and would have found a way.”

  Preoccupied with the argument, William had stopped noticing the people in the arena until that moment. Samson and the lady from the justice department close by, a lot of the other survivors had closed in around them too.

  Where Olga had been fully committed to her rage, her face slightly softened, her eyes pinching as if she could see into Matilda. “So what’s changed?”

  “What we’ve seen over there.” Matilda pointed in the direction of the political district. “It’s changed everything. We need Max to free Artan. We now have to take the risk to save him, no matter how dangerous it is. I’m not sure how it’ll work out, and I’m not sure we’ll all come away from it alive, but he’s our only hope.”

  Despite the muscles in Olga’s face contorting, she accepted Matilda’s comments with the slightest of nods. “So what are we waiting for?”

  Chapter 45

  One of the tallest structures in Edin, the arena still had nothing on some of the collapsed buildings in the devastated city beyond the walls. William fixed on the wrecked civilisation on the horizon. It seemed like a lifetime ago when he’d been a wandering madman, killing diseased in the ruins on the hill while calling his lover’s name. The creatures on the road below snapped him out of it, shambling around as they bumped into one another. They were oblivious to anything beyond their own torment. They wouldn’t be oblivious for long, not when William and his friends tried to get to the roofs in agriculture.

  Samson had dropped a rope ladder over the top of the arena. It lay flat against the rough wall and ran all the way to the ground. The political district behind them, they were about to head back the way they’d come. They needed to return to the labs.

  Although he’d tied the ladder, Samson held it with a tight grip as if to offer them reassurance. “You ready?”

  Instead of replying to him, William looked over the edge again, his stomach turning backflips. They had a descent of about twenty feet. One slip and the cobblestones would shatter their bones like they were ceramic.

  Again, Samson took the lead. He’d done this before. “You need to hide so the diseased don’t see you.”

  William and the other three dropped down, Samson crouching and sitting on the ground with them. One of the ninety-four survivors stood in the ring, awaiting Samson’s instruction.

  After a final look at William, Matilda, Hugh, and Olga, Samson nodded and raised his thumb. The woman in the ring passed the gesture on to an unseen survivor down the tunnel by the gates.

  The sound started low on account of it being so far away. The rattling of metal: pots, pans, cutlery, and even weapons. A cargo net of noise, they’d shown it to William and the others before hanging it out through the hole in the gates they’d used to enter the arena.

  Shrieks and screams were drawn to the sound, but as William went to stand up, a strong grip dragged him back down again. Were it anyone else but the permanently jovial Samson, he might have been more put out, but he accepted the man’s greater strength and experience.

  A smile as large as any William had seen, Samson said, “Sorry to pull you down like that, my man, but you need to give the diseased a moment to get out of the way before you show your face. If just one of them sees you, it’ll take a lot longer to get you out of here.” A slight pause, he went on, “Also, I wanted to say good luck. I hope we see you again. You’re always welcome back here.” A few seconds’ pause, he nodded. “Okay”—he squeezed his grip on William’s shoulder—“go and get your friend back.”

  William stood up first and peered over the side. The road now empty of diseased, the shambling beasts were all flocking towards the front of the arena down the main road on their right. Why had he chosen to go first? But he couldn’t back out now. Fighting his shaking limbs, he climbed over the top and hung his legs down. The rough stone scratched his stomach as he lay across it and let his feet swing until they found a ladder rung. The small wooden bars made poor footrests because they lay against the wall of the arena. They stuck out an inch or two at best, but they were all they had.

  As William descended, he focused on his grip, the ladder pinching the backs of his fingers between the wooden bars and the rough wall.

  Slow progress, cuts ripping where skin met stone, William made it to the ground, drew his sword as quietly as he could, and waited while more diseased tore down the main road just thirty feet away.

  Matilda joined William next and also unsheathed her weapon. Olga followed her. They hadn’t said as much to Hugh, but they wanted him on the ground last so he didn’t start a one-man crusade against all the diseased in Edin. The boy could be trusted to fight, but not to make any judgement calls.

  The rattling rush of metal continued to distract the diseased, the gap between the arena and agriculture still free of the creatures.

  Olga led the way and, as the last one up, William let Matilda and Hugh drag him onto the building’s roof. While fighting against his quickened breaths, he looked up at the beaming Samson and raised both thumbs. “Well, that was much easier than I expected.”

  “I’m not sure we’ll be saying that again,” Olga said.

  They all waved their thanks at Samson before setting off across the roofs of agriculture at a jog.

  Chapter 46

  Olga stood with her hands on her hips, staring across the main road in agriculture, her chest rising and falling from where the run had left her breathless. They’d been on the move for about an hour. “Are you sure there’s no other way?”

  “Certain,” William said. The road was too wide to cross without going to ground, but they had no better options. The main road running through Edin stretched wider than the one in front of them. In the other dire
ction, they had the fields of agriculture, which were as populated with the diseased as anywhere else, and the open space gave them nowhere to hide.

  Before anyone spoke, William moved to the edge of the roof, inciting hatred from the mob below. If he looked hard enough, he’d recognise some of the faces.

  When Matilda approached William, he raised a halting hand at her. “Stay back. I’m going to distract them. When I’ve pulled enough over to me, drop down into one of the alleys and sprint across, okay?”

  Matilda moved away from him and back to the others.

  “You horrible bastards,” William said to his sea of fans. “You disgusting cretins. You’re revolting, you know that?”

  Maybe they knew what he said, but more than likely, their impassioned reaction came from their desire to drive the disease into his system.

  William had no chance of completely clearing a path for the others, they knew that, and as much as he would like to tell them when they should go, they were better equipped to decide when to risk their lives. They could see the road well enough to make their own choices.

  But instead of dropping into an alley like they’d planned, Hugh ran at the edge of the roof and jumped off, landing on the cobblestone road, the slap of his feet calling to the diseased.

  William cupped his mouth with his hands. “Hugh! What the hell are you doing?”

  Olga and Matilda followed the stocky boy, dropping to the main road and running after him. Why didn’t they wait? “You should have let me distract them again!” But William’s calls were drowned out by the diseased seeing their new targets.

  Where Hugh had already crossed the road and ran down an alley, the diseased following him closed that option off to Olga and Matilda. Instead, they vanished down a different path. William lost sight of them, his heart on overdrive.

  First Hugh appeared on the roof on the other side, and then Olga. But no Matilda.

  Still no sign of his love, William saw the road was about as clear as it would get from where the creatures had followed his friends. When Olga waved him across, he hesitated. But staying put wouldn’t help anyone. William leaped down from the roof, his sword ready as he took off towards the one-storey buildings on the other side.

  The first alarm went off, a diseased spotting him and letting the others know. The gap from him to the wall no more than six feet, he sheathed his sword as the creatures closed in on him. If it came down to a fight, he’d lose. He jumped for the roof of the next building.

  Hugh’s strong grip reached down and took a handful of William’s shirt before dragging him up.

  Still no sign of Matilda, William shoved Hugh, who stumbled back several paces before falling on his arse. “What the hell? Why didn’t you wait for them?”

  Although Hugh stared up at William, he said nothing, tears in his glazed stare.

  When Olga—several roofs away—bent down and pulled up Matilda, William sprinted over to the pair. The uneven tiles made his feet twist and turn.

  He wrapped Matilda in a tight hug. “Are you okay?”

  Still out of breath from her escape, Matilda squeezed him, leaned into his neck, and pressed the softest kiss against it. “I’m fine.”

  Chapter 47

  William grabbed Hugh by the tops of his arms and leaned in to force eye contact.

  His friend looked anywhere but at him. “What are you doing, William?”

  Were his eyes darker than usual?

  “You’re freaking me out.”

  There seemed little point in trying to second-guess Hugh’s madness unless William wanted to go down with it. He had to take the boy at face value and give up trying to predict the unpredictable. “We nearly died the last time we tried this.” They’d moved across the roofs from agriculture to textiles and now stood directly opposite the labs, Edin’s main road between them. “We’re going to leave you behind to attract the diseased so we can cross. When we get to the other side, we’ll distract them so you can make a break for it, okay?”

  “I was there the last time, you know?”

  “Were you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  William searched for the dark glaze before he let go of a hard sigh. He turned to watch woodwork burn, thick smoke billowing into the air. “When I say we nearly died last time, what I mean is you nearly screwed it up for us.”

  “I pulled you to safety.”

  “But by jumping off the roof before the others, you jeopardised Matilda and Olga’s chances. Do I really have to explain that to you?”

  The devil had jumped from the roof, not Hugh. William watched the realisation of it play across his friend’s face in his slackening features. His brown eyes fell to the dark slate tiles at his feet. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  Although William wanted to reassure him, what could he say? Don’t worry, you’re losing your mind, but hopefully it’s not permanent? Hopefully you won’t get yourself and us killed in the process?

  The girls had watched the conversation, both of them frowning. When Matilda tilted her head to the side to question their choice, William nodded. They could trust him—at least he hoped they could. “Right, Hugh, when you’re ready—”

  Hugh let go of a call so loud William instinctively went for his sword. The short and stocky boy stamped his feet, cracking several tiles as he marched away, clapping his hands as he went. Veins stood out on his neck, his face a glowing beacon of crimson. He shook with the effort of driving his words out. “Come over here, you diseased pricks. Come and taste my sweet blood if you can get me.”

  It worked, the calls and cries from the packed main road rising in volume. Vacant expressions with slack jaws followed the boy’s progress across the roof.

  William, Matilda, and Olga were standing far enough back to remain out of sight, but as Hugh led the beasts away, William stepped forward for a better look. They had a relatively clear run across the thirty feet of cobblestones. After that, they needed to get into the corridor created by the lab’s wooden fences and far enough down to get on the roof of the building. A more ambitious run than any they’d tried before, but what other choice did they have? No Goliath this time, and they needed to get Max out of there.

  With Matilda beside him and Olga beside her, William held Matilda’s hand and squeezed. Best to keep the noise down, he looked at the two girls. Both of them nodded, so he drew his sword, Matilda doing the same, and Olga keeping a tight grip on her machete. He held his hand up, using his fingers to count down. Three … two … one …

  Several feet of tiles between them and the edge, William sprinted across the uneven surface. He leaped from the roof and landed on the cobblestones below. The diseased close to them yelled, but most of them were in the pack following Hugh over one hundred feet away.

  As much as William wanted to check on Matilda, they were in this for themselves until they made it to the other side. He needed to give her the same respect she gave him. She’d make it. She had it in her. As Matilda opened up a lead on both him and Olga, he nodded to himself. Of course she’d make it.

  William swung his sword at the first diseased to get too close. The tip of his blade sliced its throat. It went down screaming. He slammed his right forearm into the chest of the next one and shoved it away.

  A dense cloud of black smoke from woodwork cut across their path. It momentarily suffocated William, but he pushed on, his lungs tight, his legs moving on autopilot. Bursting out the other side of the dark fog, he entered the entrance to the labs, chasing his breaths to fill his lungs again.

  Several steps into the tight corridor, William slowed down. A horde larger than the one Hugh had dragged away charged at him. They weren’t going to make it. At least, he wouldn’t make it.

  Matilda passed the end of the tall wooden fence, reaching the building they’d climbed on previously. She jumped and kicked off a door handle to propel herself onto the roof. Olga followed her a few seconds later. William came to a halt as the wall of diseased
entered the corridor, closing down his option to follow them. The smoke hid those behind, but their galloping steps told him they were coming.

  The wooden fences on either side were only a few inches thick and at least twelve feet tall. Even if he did get onto them, he had nothing to stand on.

  Thundering steps. Deep growls. Snarling hisses.

  Nothing else for it, William sheathed his sword and charged at the fence closest to the labs, kicked off it, and reached up to catch the top. The wood cut into his grip, and the whole thing swayed when the fastest of the diseased slammed into it below him.

  William dragged himself to the top, threw his right leg over, and dropped down the other side. He fell in stages, trying to land on his feet before his legs gave out and he folded into a heap. Pinned between the wall and the labs, he lifted his head in time to see the diseased had come around the other side of the wall and flooded into the tight space.

  His knees sore, his legs weak, William scrambled to his feet and turned his back on the creatures. The lab on his right, the fence on his left, he sprinted away, running around the end of the long wooden building.

  The gap between the wall and the lab was much tighter, and it took William back to the protectors’ trials. Clear of diseased for the moment, he had no idea what waited for him around the other side. A better choice might not come up.

  His hands shaking, his lungs ready to burst, William removed his boots, throwing them onto the lab’s roof. A scream responded above him, and Olga’s red face peered over the side, Matilda joining her a moment later.

  After tearing his socks off, William stuffed them into his pocket, jumped, and made a star, his feet pressing against the window on one side and the wooden fence on the other.

  Fatigue turned every movement sluggish. William gritted his teeth and grunted through the pain as he braced his feet against the walls on either side before raising his hands higher. He then braced his hands to lift his feet. The first of the diseased appeared around the side of the building.

 

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