Infection Z 3

by Ryan Casey

  Holly stumbled a little. She tried to disguise it as misplacing her footsteps, but Hayden saw it. He saw the question catch her off guard. And he didn’t like the surprise on her face. “I told you. Zombies attacked and—”

  “You ran off into the woods and found a little cabin to stay in before conveniently dropping by at Riversford a few days after being bitten. I got that part. I still just don’t get why.”

  “And by the sounds of things you never will,” Holly said. She turned and looked at Gary and Sarah. “I know how this looks. I know for whatever reason you don’t want to trust me. And that’s cool. I can handle that. I can live with that. But I know what I saw. I know what happened to me and I know what I saw on that website.”

  “You said earlier it was a transmission.”

  “Transmission, website, whatever,” Holly said. “Look, I’m not bullshitting you, man. I don’t expect you to believe that. But you’re out here with me now. We’re all out here and we’re all heading to Holyhead. So whatever beef you have with me, we all want the same thing here. We’re all pulling in the same direction. So can we please just… just not bite each other’s balls off about this entire situation? Can we just save some of our energy, maybe?”

  Hayden never liked being spoken down to. But he was kind of relieved by Holly’s semi-outburst. “Well done,” he said. “That’s the most honest thing I’ve heard you say since I first met you.”

  She didn’t have anything clever to say back to that.

  They kept on walking through the trees, over the crispy fallen leaves and branches. The woods didn’t seem to be getting any thinner. They were heading west, according to Gary. And right now, Hayden was just taking Gary by his word. But he wasn’t too sure even Gary knew where he was heading. They could be looping around in these woods, heading anywhere.

  “I guess this would be the part of a cheesy bullshit movie where we all talk about our sins before the end times and how fucking damaged we all are,” Sarah said.

  Holly smiled. “Funny how the worst of clichés are often clichés for a reason.”

  “Go on then,” Sarah said. “What’s your story?”

  “Oh, not a lot to tell really. Nothing interesting anyway. No partner. No kids. No parents. No siblings.”

  “On point about the sob story part,” Gary said.

  “I don’t think we mentioned a thing about sob stories,” Sarah said.

  Gary shrugged. “Musta been getting the clichés mixed up with the reality.”

  Hayden couldn’t tell whether he was being intentionally witty or not.

  “What happened to your folks?” Hayden asked.

  Holly cleared her throat. “Oh, I er, I lost them after my sister died.”

  The final words made the muscles in Hayden’s body tighten up. “You … How old was your—”

  “Eighteen,” Holly said. “Anyway, like you say. Nobody wants a sob story. Pass us the water?”

  Hayden reached into his rucksack with his shaking hand and he passed out some bottled water. When Holly turned around, she didn’t look at him directly, and it was right at that moment that Hayden saw the glimmer of tears building up in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. About your sister. I … I lost my sister. So I … I know. How it feels.”

  She looked up, this time. Looked at Hayden with a look that said so much more than anything anyone had said to him since Clarice had been killed. It was a look of sheer empathy; not of sympathy but of an understanding that transcended words.

  He looked back at her in this momentary stasis and he didn’t snap out of his trance until he heard the gasps up ahead.

  “Wait.”

  Gary held up his hand. The group stopped walking in an instant, like they’d just run out of batteries. Hayden could hear the gasps up ahead and he could smell the intensifying decay, but he couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t see anything drifting through the branches, couldn’t see anything clawing its way through the trees, reaching their rotten hands out to …

  “There,” Sarah said.

  It took Hayden a few seconds to realise where Sarah was pointing.

  On the ground up ahead, there was a zombie. Its balding middle-aged head was intact, but its chest had been torn to pieces. Inside it, the bloodied remains of a heart punctured by cracked ribs, organs and entrails spilling out onto the bed of the woods.

  Its legs and arms had been torn away.

  And the worst part about it?

  It wasn’t the only one.

  “Shit,” Gary said. “The fuck happened here?”

  Hayden looked at the line of zombies splayed out in front of him. They’d been torn to pieces. Torn except for their pitiful heads, mouths snapping away in search of a stray ankle or a flailing arm. Flies feasted and laid maggots on their exposed insides, and the zombies just didn’t react, didn’t care, just like they didn’t react or care about anything.

  “Who … who could do this?” Holly asked. Hayden heard the genuine wonder, the clear amazement in her voice.

  Sarah pulled the steel crowbar from her belt and crouched over one of the gasping heads. “I think the question should be what could do this,” she said.

  She slammed the crowbar across one of the fallen zombie’s necks. The neck cracked, the zombie went silent.

  But the rest of the zombies kept on singing their ghastly song, echoing through the woods’ perfect silence.

  Hayden looked around at the trees. He thought he saw shimmers of movement in the light, twitching of silhouettes.

  And then he looked back at the butchered zombie remains and joined the rest of the group in finishing them off.

  He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

  Watched by something.

  Thirteen

  After two more hours of walking, Hayden fell to his knees.

  Branches snapped underneath him. The dampness of the woodland floor seeped through his jeans onto his legs. No matter how much water he’d drank—and he was trying to ration—his throat was dry, and his stomach was calling out with hunger.

  And they weren’t even a day into their journey.

  Gary put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find some place safer to rest for the night, mate.”

  Hayden shook his head. “I’m … I’m starting to think—”

  “We can’t turn back,” Gary said. “Not now. We’ve come too far. And I ain’t mad keen on goin’ back to Riversford and gettin’ the apocalyptic sniffles anyway. So we push on.”

  Hayden took some deep breaths into his stomach. A stitch crippled the right side of his body. They could do this. He could do this. He could push on through this hurdle and they could reach Holyhead, all of them, together.

  He told himself he could do it, he could make it. But the belief wasn’t there. It was minuscule. Combated by the pain crippling his exhausted body.

  Sarah walked over and put her hand on Hayden’s left shoulder. “Gary’s right. Don’t like saying that too much, but he’s right. You need to get up. Isn’t safe in here. I’m all for stopping for a rest but not in the middle of this place. Gives me the creeps.”

  Hayden looked around at the trees, the fallen leaves, the occasional splattering of blood from God-knows-what and God-knows-when. It was the feeling of unease that was getting to him, too. It was like there was no calm moment in this woods because something was constantly watching. And yet that notion was absurd. They’d been lucky. They hadn’t encountered a horde of zombies or even a few strays for that matter. Except for the butchered zombies a few miles back, their journey through the woods had been unproblematic.

  But that in itself was the problem.

  There was no such thing as unproblematic in this world.

  Hayden pulled himself up. His legs felt even worse for taking a few seconds of rest. And worse than that, they were damp, so they were cold too. Damp, cold legs for a one week trip. Shit—the chilly confines of Riversford seemed practically five-star next to this.

  They moved furthe
r through the woods. Sarah led the way sipping at her water, Holly trailing just behind her. Gary and Hayden walked side by side.

  “Be straight with me,” Hayden said. “D’you actually know where we’re going here?”

  Gary glared at Hayden. “You doubting me?”

  “Yes. To be honest, I am.”

  Gary shook his head. “Used to drive past these woods all the time on the way down the M56. Always thought they’d be a decent place for a criminal to hang out if their world went to shit or summat.”

  “Right about that,” Hayden said. More rustling to his right. More silhouettes.

  Just illusions. Just in your mind …

  “Now you be straight with me,” Gary said. “Whaddyou think of her?”

  Hayden knew who Gary was talking about right away, but that didn’t stop him buying time by asking. “Holly?”

  Gary nodded. Hayden hoped he’d reveal a tidbit of what was going through his head, but this answer was on Hayden.

  “I want to trust her,” Hayden said, lifting his foot over an icy puddle. It was icier the further they got into the woods, the ground sheltered from the sun. “I mean I feel like I should trust her. She seems … honest. Right?”

  Gary just nodded. He didn’t say anything, he just nodded.

  “You thinking differently?”

  “Just think we should keep an eye on her. Just in case. Y’know?”

  He looked right at Hayden and Hayden saw the apprehension in his face.

  Hayden nodded. “Just in case,” he said. “I know what you—”

  And then he felt something grasp hold of his right ankle and he fell to the ground.

  At first, Hayden thought he’d just slipped on ice.

  But then he heard the grunt and heard the cracking sound and he knew they had company.

  Sarah and Holly swung around. “Fuck!”

  Hayden turned onto his back and kicked at the zombie. It had frozen to the ground completely, its hand now free of its icy shackles. Dark hair stuck to its white cheeks and frost covered a gaping wound on the side of its neck.

  Hayden tried to wriggle away but the zombie pushed its teeth up to Hayden’s shin and tried to clamp its jaw, frozen open in the ice. He felt its grip getting tighter, heard the ice on its jaw cracking, readied for the searing pain of contact.

  Then there was an ear-splitting crack and the zombie went still.

  Hayden pulled his ankle free from the tight clutches of the zombie. He wiped his shivering hands on his coat, backed away, nearly slipping on another sheet of ice in the process.

  Over the zombie, Holly stood, a bloodied metal baseball bat in hand.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  Hayden studied her for a moment and then he nodded. “Yeah. I … Thanks. I just—”

  Another splitting sound from inside the woods.

  And then another.

  And another.

  Then, gasping.

  Hayden looked around at the half-frozen zombies dragging their partly thawed bodies from the ground. He reached into his rucksack, pulled out a wrench and a gun, and then he backed up to Gary, Sarah and Holly.

  “What—what do we do?” Hayden asked.

  The zombies rose from behind them, clambered free of the ice and stumbled in the group’s direction.

  “We run,” Gary said.

  Fourteen

  “We only use the guns if we have to,” Hayden shouted.

  “I’d say this fucking qualifies as ‘have to’,” Sarah said.

  The group of four sprinted as fast as they could through the trees. The ground switched between icy and thawed as the sun peeked in through cracks in these evergreen trees. Hayden tried to keep his balance. He couldn’t slip. Couldn’t fall. Not now.

  Behind, the guttural groans of the zombies grew ever closer.

  “Which way?” Hayden shouted.

  “Any way!” Gary said. “Ain’t sure directions matter too much right now.”

  Hayden didn’t like that, but shit—he was hardly in a position to argue. So he kept on running. Felt the loose branches of trees scrape against his face, felt his knees tensing up with every awkward step, a stitch spreading through his stomach and threatening to floor him.

  “An opening!” Holly said. “Up ahead!”

  Hayden didn’t have time to scrutinise Holly’s words. He told himself not to peek over his shoulder but doing so just prompted him to look.

  A dozen of them. At least.

  Not a smidgen of frostiness about the way they were moving. Not now.

  And then he stumbled forward.

  Felt himself floating through the air, like he was moving in slow motion.

  And just as quickly as he’d slipped, Hayden found his footing again, kept on running like it was all just part of the plan.

  “Which fucking opening are you on about?” Sarah shouted, not giving a shit about how her voice might attract the undead—and with reason. They were attracted as it damned well was.

  “I … I dunno,” Holly said. “I swore I saw—”

  A half-dozen strong group of zombies staggered from behind the trees up ahead.

  “Shit!” Sarah shouted. She stopped running and Holly crashed into her, Gary just about slowing his run before he could fly into them too, Hayden already stationary.

  He looked around. Looked behind at the zombies as they marched closer. Some of them were still frozen at the teeth, and Hayden couldn’t shake the image of ice-cold fangs slicing through his skin and feasting on his insides. Up ahead, more zombies approached. To the left and to the right, the trees were thicker and it was impossible to see what was hiding beyond those natural walls.

  “Need to make a decision right about now,” Gary said. “Left or right, guys.”

  “Fuck it.” Hayden lifted his pistol and pointed it at the crowd of zombies heading from behind.

  “No!” Sarah said. She knocked the gun down. Stared at Hayden with bloodshot eyes. “We don’t absolutely need to. Not yet. We need to move.”

  Hayden looked at the frosty zombies stepping towards him and right there and then he felt a deep, unavoidable anger and frustration. He knew it was irrational, like being angry at the customer service adviser at a call centre when the real problem was management. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted to punish these beasts for the disruption they’d caused to this world. He wanted to punish anybody for the disruption to this world.

  But not right now.

  Right now, he had to move.

  Had to get the hell out of here.

  He ran to his right into the thicker mass of tree trunks and branches. Darkness seemed to descend on the group as they disappeared into the unknown, the zombies’ cries a constant reminder that they were hot on their heels.

  They ran. Ran over icy patches and ran over snapped logs and ran over the remains of squirrels and rats, gutted and splayed out all over the bed of the woodland. And as they ran, as the natural taste of the trees covered Hayden’s lips and encapsulated his senses, he realised how frigging unfair it was for the human race to go and wreak so much havoc on mother nature. Unintentional havoc, sure, but havoc nonetheless. Havoc that wouldn’t even be a conscious idea if it weren’t for the presence of humans.

  Humans. “They just screw things up,” his granddad used to say.

  And Hayden hadn’t understood what he meant as a kid. He saw the positives to humanity. Technological advances, medical care. Missions into space and democracy-spreading wars.

  But right now, he agreed with his old granddad. Humans really did just screw things up, whether they had a conscious hand in it or not.

  “Argh!”

  The scream snapped Hayden out of his terrified senses.

  He looked for Sarah and Holly. But no—they were still on their feet, running along into the mass of trees, on the brink of disappearing into a nothingness beyond.

  On the floor to Hayden’s right, Gary lay.

  Gary clenched hold of his foot. Blood spilled out of the bottom o
f his black walking boot. The teeth of a sharp metal fox trap had pierced through the rubber and the leather.

  His foot was bloodied and mangled inside it.

  Gary screamed. His face was completely pale. He clutched his ankle and stared at his injured foot in disbelief.

  “You—you need to get up,” Hayden said. He heard the gasps getting closer. Saw the branches behind shaking.

  “I—I can’t, mate. My foot. Fuck. My fucking foot. My fucking—arghhh!”

  Hayden cringed when Gary screamed. And it was a cringe that didn’t feel right because he knew he was cringing more for his own safety than with Gary’s pain.

  But he had to make a decision right now. He had to do something.

  He looked up. Sarah and Holly getting further away. He was losing sight of them. Fast.

  Gary screamed.

  Behind, the branches swayed. Gasps got louder. Hungrier. Closer.

  Gary screamed.

  Hayden crouched beside Gary. “You—you need to be quiet. You need to be quiet or—”

  “My foot my fucking foot my—argh!”

  Hayden heard the rustling of the branches and the gasps and the cries all as one. He moved his hands towards the rusty, blood-soaked trap. “You need to keep still. We don’t have much—”

  “Please make it stop. Please make it stop.” Tears rolled down Gary’s cheeks as he clutched his ankle, stared up at the moving mass of the trees behind, awaiting his fate.

  Hayden’s heart raced. He’d lost sight of Sarah and Holly completely. Soon it would be just him and Gary. And then Gary would bleed out and it would be just him. Just Hayden, all alone in a deathly woods in the middle of nowhere.

  Exhausted. Trapped.

  No.

  He wrapped his hands around the teeth of the trap and tried to pry it open.

  It didn’t budge.

  Gary roared with pain.

  Gary’s blood covered Hayden’s fingers. And right there, holding Gary’s ankle upright, he understood. He understood what this was. He understood the decision he had to make. A cruel decision. An impossible decision. A decision that shouldn’t even be in his hands.