In The End | Book 3 | After The End

by Stevens, GJ

  Alex turned, bending over to catch her breath and swallowing hard. She looked up, holding my gaze, only standing and turning back as my eyes went wide to the sight of ropes uncoiling from the Chinook’s rear and four ominous figures rappelling to the rubble.

  It wasn’t what I had hoped for.

  The blacked-out figures spread across the ground, their heads down-turned as they picked their way across the rubble. I heard the first call go out. Had they just found the van, or what remained? Or it was my imagination?

  Alex looked to the ground below and I leaned forward, peering to what had taken her attention. The creatures were moving away from the entrance in a steady stream with their heads upturned, fixing on the buzz of the aircraft swarming around the hospital.

  As they walked, they turned to follow, their legs correcting the direction, causing the crowd to seem as if it swayed left and right as they made their journey to the noise.

  Rapid gunfire in the distance drew my attention and sped the creatures on. I saw fire erupting from the backdoor of the Chinook directed to the ground as the gunships swooped in from both directions, their long nose-mounted guns popping with smoke in quick succession.

  The ground burst with explosions and raised dust to haze our view, rockets firing from the short wings slung with ordnance. I glanced back to see the crowd nearly gone from below us, dispersed on their journey away.

  I looked for the dark soldiers in the rising dust at the hospital, trying to make out the snap of their guns. Only as the Chinook went low, its guns silencing, flanked by the gunships, did I see the group of four picking their way through the destruction in a rush to get to safety.

  Then I saw it. A fifth figure behind. Gripping at Alex’s upper arm, I stared at the race to the back of the wide helicopter.

  As if someone had fast-forwarded the scene, the last figure was no longer in view. I refocused at Alex’s intake of breath and caught a dark blur arcing through the air to the renewed call of gunfire before it slammed into the rotors, leaving only a cloud of blood and gore. The engine changed pitch, and the helicopter rocked with the hit, but lifted, unsteady into the air.

  The guns took up again, rockets exploding where the Chinook had been as if in a last show of who was in charge. With an Apache taking a place at its front and back, they led the Chinook away.

  Logan’s voice took me by surprise, breaking the serenity of the icy winter’s morning left behind.

  “Look,” he said, and we turned to see him raised up on his hands to balance on the sill of the next window along, nodding down to the village square and the fountain in the centre where only the truly dead, the unmoving, lay in the space which moments before had been thick with the bodies on their feet.

  Dropping down, he moved to the next window and rose again. He turned with a brilliant smile and a glint in his eye.

  “Now’s our chance.”

  20

  LOGAN

  Taking care not to call the creatures back with the clatter at my feet, I raced down the steps, knowing if they came back we had no idea if we’d ever get such an opportunity again. I hadn’t dared to think about how long we could last in this place.

  Despite everything that had happened since, I couldn’t get what she’d said about the kids out of my mind. I was desperate to question what she’d meant, but for now I had to concentrate on getting to the minibus so we could stand a hope of finding where they’d taken the children.

  Jumping from the last step, I realised I hadn’t formed a plan. Who would keep Cassie safe whilst I wasn’t here? Who would take care of her if I didn’t make it back?

  Jess landed a step behind, followed by Alex. Jess pointed to the door, raising her finger to her mouth for all to see.

  Paul looked up wide-eyed as he stood with the others surrounding him in a semi-circle as if in some great debate.

  “I found a minibus,” I whispered. “It’s big enough so we can all get away.”

  I watched eyes widen and mouths hang low.

  “What about them the other side?” Paul said, stepping closer whilst keeping his voice low.

  “They’re gone for now, but they’ll be back,” I replied, matching his volume.

  “I’ll come with you,” he said. “I’ve got something that might help.”

  Before we could debate, Paul stepped to the door, then heaved the metal bar from across the wood. Looking as if he was about to speak, Jess again raised her finger to her lips in silence, then turned to Alex.

  “Stay here please,” Jess said.

  “Can you watch after Cass?” I added.

  Screwing up her face, I saw Alex’s brief protest, but as she relaxed her shoulders, she gave a shallow nod, helping Paul lay the heavy metal bar to the side of the entrance. Alex would be the one to protect Cassie.

  As we rushed the short distance to the doors, Paul’s eyes went wide and he dashed off to the main part of the church.

  Dropping the rifle from my shoulder, I glanced to the huddle of the other four who looked on in disbelief as we headed to the door to do the very thing we’d stopped them from doing moments earlier.

  Jess heaved the right-hand door with her shoulder and I took the left. Each side swung wide, letting in the chill of the bright morning as I gripped the rifle, arcing it in a semi-circle, thankful the village square was just as empty as we’d seen from above.

  “Be ready when we come back. We’ll get you guys somewhere safer,” I said, turning.

  Not waiting for their response, I ran from the church, looking to the road opposite the way we’d arrived, whilst trying to visualise where the school sat in relation to what we’d seen from the high view.

  Turning to heavy breath behind, Paul followed with a long metal pry-bar, held two-handed like a spear as I cringed at the bass sound of the doors slamming closed.

  Twisting back around, scanning left and right as I ran with the gun tracing my view, swinging its weight either side at my hip, still not able to forget McCole’s few seconds of training on the rifle. He’d told me never to do this if I wanted to hit anything.

  Jess ran alongside with Paul’s heavy footsteps not far behind. I tried to ignore the scattered piles of bodies whilst wondering for a fleeting moment who put them there.

  My gaze switched to the smashed windows in the houses we passed, glancing to their dark interiors, hoping I wouldn’t see movement and turning away as the sight got too much for my nerves.

  At the other side of the square, a house on the corner marked the start of the road leaving the village. I didn’t pause at the thought of what could be around the corner, instead surging on past the fear of what we could run into.

  As the distance grew between us and the church, the thought of leaving Cassie behind weighed heavy with each step.

  A gentle wind rustled through the trees and I marvelled at the near silence broken only by our footsteps. I should have been grateful, but I just couldn’t help thinking it was yet another lull before the storm.

  The road ahead snapped back into focus and, clenching my teeth, I realised I hadn’t been paying attention.

  Thankful the coast was still clear, the road ahead merged to a narrow lane as the houses on either side thinned. Bound by tall hedgerows, trees climbed at the edge of the road to form a canopy shielding us from the winter sun. The surface of the road had survived the bombing with no scars, leaving just a sheen of thin rubble scattered across the tarmac.

  Still running, a gap in the hedge came into view to our right as the road veered to a single lane pointed out with a faded white sign, the lettering grey and washed out; St Edmund’s Primary School.

  Glancing to Jess, I walked forward in a wide arc, peering through the gap to the road which, although heavily worn, had been protected from debris by the dense hedgerow either side and the canopy curving above. I nodded to Jess who replied with a tip of her head and I repeated the gesture to Paul, puffing hard as he held the metal bar high.

  With each long pace the road swept to the rig
ht, taking us back in the church’s direction. Bright-green gates came into view, each side held to the other with a heavy padlock as they sat in the centre of the tall metal fence wrapping around the school.

  Not far beyond the gates were three buildings, each so different from how they had looked from the tower. The thought pulled my gaze high in the church’s direction, but I couldn’t see it for the knot of trees.

  A two-storey building stood in the middle, looking much like an over-sized cottage but with a row of roof windows and bright-red double doors in the centre, the school’s name emblazoned above.

  I scanned the posters in the downstairs windows, peering at the faded alphabet, times tables and childish works of art, lingering on a large picture with five tall figures growing in height from right to left. A family.

  A vision of my parents came to life as they stared wide-eyed at me stood on the roof of the hospital with Cassie, watching the bombs fall amongst the carpet of bodies. I wondered if they would realise it was their son in such danger.

  I closed my eyes at the thought of how they would react when they saw Jess’s broadcast.

  Swallowing hard, I looked to the right and a building much like a tall box with a flat roof. With thin windows high up the wall, I guessed it was a gym or a sports hall. The building to the left was much smaller and could have been a gatehouse or another classroom perhaps. None of the buildings appeared to have any damage, as if in a bubble protected from the chaos all around.

  Between the two leftmost buildings was a thin road, and I turned my focus back to the gate, watching as Paul strode forward to push the pointed tip of the long bar into the centre of the shackle. Heaving on the other end of the bar, the long lever made light work of the clasp, sending the scrapped parts clattering to the road.

  With a beaming smile, I nodded in Paul’s direction then glanced around to make sure our sound hadn’t drawn out creatures hiding in the bushes. I paused at the thought. Had I seen them hide before? The thought dissipated as the gates groaned wide against Jess’s push.

  Nothing ambushed us as we stepped through.

  I looked to Paul and our wide-eyed expressions matched. “Stick together,” I said, and he nodded.

  We headed side by side down the narrow lane along the largest building, each looking left and right as we took slow steps in the eerie quiet. A sheen of pale dust covered the playground’s bright-coloured markings, but otherwise we would never have known what had gone on outside its boundary.

  I saw the side of the minibus half under a plastic canopy, its paint covered in the same thin layer. Finding it locked, as I let go of the handle I caught sight of a half-glass door to the main school building on the other side of the van.

  Turning back toward the gates, I stared at the smaller building we’d passed, greeted with a view of the roof caved in at one corner.

  Stepping to the main building’s door and finding it locked, I twisted the handle a second time to make sure, then moved to the side as Paul hefted the iron bar high and hit at the glass.

  Despite the force, it held with great cracks spidering out from the point of impact. Two more heavy thumps made me cringe at the volume, but the sheet fell through the other side to the single chirp of a siren, lighting up my senses for the briefest of moments until the battery died.

  My thoughts turned to the gate again, and I tried to remember if we’d pulled each side closed behind us.

  I shook away the question, watching as Paul reached through the opening to unlock the door, but turning away as I caught movement from the other side of the playground, swinging the rifle around. Movement flared again, but with relief I saw the creatures were on the other side of the metal fence.

  With a nod to Jess to share what I’d seen, I stepped over the threshold to follow Paul, pushing the broken glass panel to the side with his feet.

  Dust and dried paint pulled at a long-forgotten memory as we entered. The sight of small chairs in the classroom to the right raised a smile, reinforced by the view of the cloakroom just ahead with wooden coat-stands forming a line in the square room with laminated name tags above each. I took confidence in the stale air and shouldered the rifle, splitting from the others to begin the search.

  There were two classrooms and judging by the improving skill of the drawings in each, I guessed the rough ages of the children.

  I moved to a compact kitchen with two fridges, but found them both empty for the holidays. The cupboards held tea and coffee, mugs and brightly-coloured plastic cups.

  My interest grew when I saw a small office with computers on three desks, plus a small chair in the corner. I imagined a boy in shorts with a grazed knee, waiting red-faced for his tears to calm.

  As I rifled through the cabinets and drawers, Jess and Paul soon joined me with the shake of their heads, telling me all I needed.

  Whilst trying to be as quiet as we could in our search, we each looked up to the ceiling when we heard the creaking of the floorboards above.

  21

  The sound from the floor over our heads stopped, and keeping still I sought out every clue as to the source of the noise.

  Eventually I turned, looking through the office window and across the playground, peering out to see if the noise could somehow have been from the creatures I’d seen the other side of the fence.

  When nothing stood beyond the green slats and realising the notion made no sense, my thoughts flashed again to the double gates as I tried to remember if we’d pushed them closed.

  Turning back to Paul and Jess, I raised my hands in the air, shaking my head to confirm I hadn’t found what we’d sought. Each replied in the same way, and together we looked back to the ceiling as the scuffle on the floorboards came again.

  Nodding to Jess, we followed Paul’s lead out of the office and to the short corridor, waiting beside the only door we’d yet to open.

  Paul stood to my side and I raised the rifle, gripping hard with the butt tight in my shoulder as he dropped the handle, pulling in one swift moment to reveal a tiled corridor leading to the front double doors and a stairway rising to my left.

  Sniffing the air, I breathed out with relief when it came back with the same dull, dusty odour as the rest of the ground floor.

  They followed behind as I slowly walked across the tiles, pausing when I reached the bottom of the staircase and peered up, straining to listen.

  With no sound coming from above, I rose up the narrow steps, looking high to another short corridor and three closed doors.

  Edging the first door wide whilst keeping the muzzle high, it didn’t take me long to back out of the storeroom filled with office equipment and stationery, but I paused for a moment to take a second look for keys hanging down from hooks.

  When we found nothing of use, the pair moved from my back, giving me room to step to the next door, an office with a single desk and chair. About to step backward, I paused as the scuffle of movement came again.

  Nodding toward the next door, I listened to the sound, so much crisper than before, but it was so light I felt myself relaxing, doubting it could be from the dead.

  For a moment I lowered the rifle, but raised it high again when I thought of the size of the children who would have attended the school.

  A vision of the girl in the tunnel flashed into my head, the dark veins like tree roots across her face; I tightened my grip as I moved toward the far door, hovering my hand over the brass handle whilst I collected myself.

  Shaking my head, I shuffled a little to the left, nodding for Paul to do the deed. Raising the bar one-handed like a spear, he gripped the brass with the other.

  Jess leaned in as he twisted the handle, waiting for my command.

  I nodded, reluctant for any more delay. The door swung wide and I clenched my teeth at the shards of glass covering the floor of a classroom. Looking up to the skylight, I saw the remaining fragments, then turned to the desks pushed up against the walls with chairs piled in stacks alongside.

  Faded drawings f
illed the walls, but movement drew me to a black cat in the centre of a great dark pool of blood. As I looked on, my focus fixing, it still stood on its back legs, but its front had collapsed either side with its only remaining fore-leg just white bone and stringy connective tissue.

  A faint waft of sewerage called on the breeze from the high window and Jess pushed gently past me, kneeling to the mess.

  “Wait,” I said, as Paul went to step from my side. “It could be infected.”

  Jess didn’t flinch, but Paul stopped, stepping back until the mass twitched and it looked up, prompting Paul to move forward with the bar still held high.

  I looked away.

  To the sound of a heavy thud and a crack of bone, I focused on searching the drawers of what must have been the teacher’s desk in the corner.

  Coming up empty-handed, I avoided looking to where Paul and Jess crouched as I headed back to the corridor.

  With Paul wiping the end of the pole, they soon joined me downstairs and in silence we headed back outside as I tried to figure if the familiar stench had grown stronger since we’d last been outside. The pair followed around to the front of the school until, with relief, I saw the gates were closed with none of the creatures waiting on the other side.

  I couldn’t help but think this place would have been an excellent location to hold up and wait, but then I thought of the children. Of Cassie’s sister, Ellie. Sweet Tish and Jack, the hope of humanity.

  I pushed away the thought of how we would find them, with my mind instead drifting to thoughts of Cassie and a sudden need to be by her side.

  As if coming out of a daydream, I stood at the glass door of the bungalow, but instead of reaching for the handle, my attention drew to a rattle of the gates as a figure bumped into the metal. Where its face should have been, dark contours of muscle stared back with long clotted blood drying across the front of a thick white top.

  I turned to Jess and Paul, watching as they stared the same way, then looked to me, steeling themselves for the challenge ahead.