The Haven Series (Book 1): The Infected

by Gemma Ritchie

  Yelling outside forces me into a crouch. I quickly re-cap the bottle, shoving it in my pack and crawl towards Drew who seems to have found his second wind, face lined with determination.

  “Find them. They can’t have gone far.” Bomber yells, his voice muffled by the door. Heavy footsteps ring beyond the door and my heart hammers against my ribcage. They’re going to find us.

  “We need to get out of here” I whisper, my voice tight. Drew nods and turns on his haunches. His eyes land on the window and he jumps up, scurrying towards it. With his sleeve, he wipes away the grime, pressing his nose to the glass. I creep towards him, eyes wide as I wait for the verdict. With slow movements, he reaches for the handle, easing the window open and poking his head through the gap. Pulling back, he tugs the pack from his shoulders, indicating for me to do the same.

  “Okay, I’m gonna boost you up. When you land on the other side head into the bushes. It’s not far but you’ll have to make a run for it.” I’m shaking my head before he’s finished. “Lou, you need to be brave okay? Just run for the bushes. Don’t look back.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit. I nod, swallowing hard.

  “Good.” Drew crouches, cupping his hands. Licking my dry lips, I brace a hand on his shoulder and place my foot in his grip. I’m up and out the window before I can prepare for the landing. I drop awkwardly, landing on my hands. Then I’m up and running, sliding into the cover of the bushes, breathing ragged as I watch the window with wide eyes. Please let him be okay. Please, please…

  One pack appears, thudding to the ground, followed shortly by another. I scan the garden, focusing on one side of the house before moving to the other. If they heard that then Drew is screwed and I’m alone and probably next. I can’t do this without him. Drew’s face appears, his body tumbling after it as he slams into the ground. A figure moves around the right side of the house, surprise curling his mouth into an O. Before I can think, I’m up, blade flying from my hand and embedding in his chest. Shock widens his eyes as he drops.

  Drew crashes into the bushes beside me, pulling me down and clasping my face as he kisses my forehead. I killed someone. My hands tremble, my mind trying and failing to comprehend my actions. I killed him. He’s dead.

  “You did good. If it hadn’t have been him it would have been me.” Drew loops the straps of my pack over my shoulders, brushing a stray lock of hair from my cheek. “Lou.” I look at him, his blue eyes sparkle with gratitude. “You did the right thing.”

  “He’s dead” I stammer.

  “No, he’s not. Not yet. You did what you had to do.”

  I nod. He’s right. He is. This isn’t about and good and evil anymore. It’s about survival. It was self-defence. So why does my stomach clench at the thought of what I’ve done?

  We move through the gardens, further and further down the streets, making slow progress as they hunt every hiding place and every shadow for our presence. Bomber yells in the distance, his tone growing more and more irate the longer we evade them. Hunkering down in a mass of shrubbery I allow my heart a second to beat normally, calming my ragged breathing and peering through the branches as I wait for the next break.

  My head snaps back as hands wrap around my hair, yanking me out from my hiding spot. I thrash and scream, twisting back and forth, feeling the hair tear from my scalp. Rocks and dirt scrape my back as I’m dragged out. Drew fights another who subdues him with a punch to the face. Tears spring onto my lashes as more hands grab me, picking me up from the floor while I kick and punch to no avail. I think of the woman, bloodied and abused and I feel sick to my stomach. That is my fate, that’s what awaits me.

  “Well, well, well…” Bomber grins as I am dumped at his feet. My head is wet, hair caked in blood from my torn scalp. He squats down beside me and runs his hand down my face. I recoil at his touch, a crawling sensation running over my skin. “You can’t run forever gorgeous. I get what I want eventually.” His hand slips further down, groping at my breast. “I’m gonna have some fun with you.” The threat laces his words and I want to die. Right here, right now, I want to die rather than be subjected to whatever he has planned. Drew is forced to his knees beside me, sorrow watering his blue eyes. My fingers twitch to reach for him but fearing the repercussions, I resist. The men form a circle, surrounding us, licking their lips as their gazes peruse my body and I know that before my life is over, they will all have had a turn. Passed me around like some toy. I retch, vomit spraying the pavement.

  “And we haven’t even started yet,” Bomber jeers, earning a laugh from the crowd. Drew glares at him, lip curling in revulsion. It doesn’t go unnoticed. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of your little girlfriend. Show her what a real man looks like.”

  Bomber recoils as spit sprays his face. Closing his eyes, he runs a hand over his skin before pulling back his arm. His fist crunches into Drew’s nose, blood splattering down his chin and knocking him backwards. I cry out, sobbing into my shoulder. They’re going to kill him and they’re going to make me watch.

  “I think this guy needs teaching a lesson, don’t you boys?” Bomber’s words are an endorsement. The men converge on Drew, fists and feet crashing into him as he curls in on himself, grunts of pain slipping from his lips. I scream and beg them to stop, scramble to my feet only to be pushed back to the floor.

  Thick liquid sprays across my face. My head snaps around in time to see my captor slump to the floor, blood oozing from his head onto the pavement. The men scatter, drawing their weapons and diving for cover as they scan for their attackers. Another bullet whooshes past from a different direction, catching one of the men in the spine. He slams into the floor, body twitching before falling still.

  I push to my knees and crawl to Drew, lifting his bloody face into my lap. He’s unconscious but breathing. There’s so much blood. I wipe it away, my shirt soon covered in thick crimson. I whisper his name as guns crack all around us, our attackers too focused on their party crashers to care about me.

  “Drew wake up” I sob, “please wake up.”

  His lids twitch as he groans, hands reaching for me as he pulls himself up. I wrap an arm around his waist, help him to his feet and force him into a crouch as I half carry him from the street. A bullet slams into the fence above my head as we duck beside a house. As gently as I can I rest Drew against the wall. He slides down until he’s sitting, head rolling as he tries to shake off the dizziness. Pulling water from my pack I pour it on his face to try and clear as much blood as I can. He sputters, water spraying from his lips.

  “Can you move?” I ask, my voice drowned out by the crack of gunfire. We have to get out of here before our rescuers decide we aren’t worth the trouble. He pushes against the building, makes it halfway to standing then slumps back down, wincing as his head hits the wall.

  “Fuck.”

  Leaning around the building I watch as another man drops, head slamming into the ground, eyes rolling backwards. I don’t have time for nausea as I crawl forwards, reaching for the gun that fell from his hands. My hands brush the barrel and I tug it free, scurrying backwards into the cover of the building.

  “You know how to use that?” Drew coughs, his eyes fully open now and staring at my bewildered expression. I shrug, turning it over in my palms. Forcing himself into a sitting position he takes it from me, hands moving deftly over the weapon. “It’s a bolt action rifle so you have to move the lever upwards and pull the bolt back as far as you can. Push the bolt forward as far as you can, and then close it.” He demonstrates and I try to follow. “Lock the rifle into your shoulder. The kickback is gonna sting like a bitch. Safety’s off. Take a deep breath, point and shoot.” He hands it to me, as if that brief crash course was enough. “You can do this.”

  I nod and shuffle to the end of the wall. I lay down on my stomach, locking the rifle into my shoulder. I glance briefly at Drew. He nods with approval. Turning back, I spot Bomber with his jaw clenched, gun up and aimed as he shoots down the street. My finger cradles the trigger a
s I take a deep breath through my nose and squeeze. The rifle slams against my shoulder, blinding pain rocketing through my joint as the breath rushes from my lungs. I yelp, lifting my head to see if my shot hits its mark. It didn’t and now he’s seen me. I scrabble backwards, moving the bolt like Drew showed me. A bullet slams into the brick above my head, showering me in dust and chippings. I wrap my arms around my head then shuffle forwards, laying on my belly once more as I reluctantly tuck the rifle back into place.

  Taking another deep breath, I hold it in, tensing as I prepare for the kickback. I squeeze the trigger, wincing slightly but watching as it smacks into Bomber’s shoulder. The gun falls from his hand and he stumbles back into cover. I was aiming for his head but I’ll take a shoulder. I bark a triumphant laugh. Reload. Wait. He peeks out and I let off another, my aim improving with each squeeze of the trigger. It crashes into the brick by his head and I curse. Reload.

  The gunfight has begun to fade, the constant crack of gunfire falling away until the only guns I hear is mine and one other. I pull the bolt. Deep breath. Pull the trigger and nothing happens. Pushing to my feet I run in a crouch back to Drew, handing him the gun the way a child hands an adult a broken toy.

  “It’s empty.” He throws it aside, pushes awkwardly against the wall until he’s standing. “You did good. Not bad for a first timer.” He claps his hand against my shoulder, resting it there as he limps out of cover.

  “What can I say, I’m a fast learner.” I smile but it doesn’t reach my eyes as I study his movements, the way he favours his left side, wincing when he misses his footing. “You’re really hurt. We need to get you someplace safe.”

  “I think I can help with that.”

  Seven

  - Brave Stupidity -

  The campfire flickers against the night sky, illuminating tired faces, casting brooding looks in shadow. I suppress a yawn, resting my chin in my palm. Kyle snores gently beside me, his head in Natalie’s lap. She strokes his hair absentmindedly, gaze faraway and lips turned downwards. Drew retreated to our tent an hour ago, his ribs aching after the long walk. My lids are heavy but I’m reluctant to sleep, not trusting them not to rob us and make off into the night. Possibly cut our throats in our sleep.

  I bite back another yawn, eyes darting across the fire where Sam perches on his pack, ammunition spread around his feet. Natalie stretches, her shirt riding up to reveal a belly button ring, a dolphin tattooed into the soft flesh above.

  “Well, I’m shattered,” she yawns, shaking Kyle gently. His lids flutter open, drooping back over his eyes as he sits up. “Come on Ky.” She bids us goodnight and heads for her tent, Kyle following close behind. Leaving me and Sam alone.

  Neither of us speaks which is fine by me. He’s grumpy and callous, two things I don’t need or want in my life right now. The world is bad enough without his miserable face. I grab a stick and poke at the flames, watch the fire catch as it spits and crackles. When I look up Sam is watching me, the fire reflecting in his deep green eyes. I hold his stare for several seconds then let it fall, swallowing my discomfort.

  “You can turn in, you know.” It’s the first time he’s spoken to me. I shake my head despite my lids begging for the relief of sleep. Strengthening my resolve, I sit up straighter, my back aching with disapproval. “We’re not going to steal from you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  That’s exactly what I’m thinking but with a gun in his hand I’m not stupid enough to admit it. So, I don’t say anything and just continue to stare into the fire, my head lolling every so often, startling me awake. Eventually Sam stands, walking towards his tent without a word. I watch him go, wondering what made him so hostile. He’s such a stark contrast from his brother that it amazes me that they’re even related.

  Hands shake me awake. I bolt up, snapping my eyes shut against the bright sunlight burning my retina. It’s morning and I’m as stiff as a board, frozen solid beneath my jacket, the campfire nothing but smouldering embers. Drew opens his mouth, pauses, snaps it shut and shakes his head. Shivering I tuck my hands under my arms with a scowl as he sets about relighting the fire. He may think I’m stupid but if I had gone to bed, and they’d have robbed us while we slept, then he would have been kicking himself. Whether my suspicion is misplaced or not, I stand by it until proven otherwise.

  “This’ll warm you up.” Natalie grins, handing me a hot cup of water. I take it with gratitude I can’t express due to my frosted lips and cup the tin mug between my palms. It sears against my skin, melting the chill until my hands are once again a healthy-ish pink. I rub the sleep from my eyes, watching as she holds another mug between a pair of tongs over the fire. It bubbles gently, steam curling from the rim. She pulls it out, wrapping her sleeve around her hand as she removes it from the tongs and hands it to Drew.

  “Thank you” he smiles, settling down beside the fire with his mug. He won’t look at me and I know he’s mad. That’s fine, I’m mad too. In fact, I’m livid. If it weren’t for him and his madcap ideas I wouldn’t be sitting in a field with a bunch of strangers waiting to be either mauled to death or stabbed in the back. So yeah, I’m pissed and if he wants to act like I’m being irrational that’s up to him.

  My mood darkens further when Sam emerges, dark hair flopping over brooding eyes that scan the camp as if he owns it. When they land on me I stare right back, making my feelings known in the hostility of my gaze. Kyle climbs out behind him, smiling as if we’re on a camping holiday. Like this is fun for any of us.

  I return to my hot water, blowing gently against the surface, steam twirling in front of my face and heating my chilled cheeks. Natalie hands another two cups to the boys before settling back with her own looking, for all the world, content. The first sip warms a path right to my stomach, heating me from the inside out. I sigh.

  “Not bad huh?” Natalie nudges me, smiling as she sips her own water. I murmur my agreement, taking another sip as I crack my stiff neck.

  “Sleep well?” Sam smirks behind the rim of his mug. It’s the first time I’ve seen anything but a scowl on his face and right now I want to slap it clean off. Instead I choose to ignore him, drain the last of my water and stand. I look up and down the field, my bladder pinching painfully. My eyes land back on Sam who seems to suddenly find me extremely amusing. Maybe he had a personality transplant during the night. Lord knows he needed one.

  Natalie jumps to her feet, throwing her tin mug to the ground. “Come on, I need to pee too.” She strides away. Cheeks flaming I rush after her, the pressure in my bladder growing more and more insistent. She stops in a cluster of trees, nipping behind one, the sound of a lowering zip ripping through the quiet. I spin away, finding my own tree and breathing a relieved sigh as I alleviate my swollen bladder. Once I’m done I step out to wait for Natalie, wishing I had some antibacterial gel or something. The whole Bear Grylls life definitely isn’t for me.

  Natalie joins me and we cross the field back to the boys. Drew is gone, probably to do what we’ve just done. Even though he’s currently annoyed with me, I feel vulnerable with him gone. I nip inside our tent to escape the others, delving inside my pack for something for breakfast. When I re-emerge, Drew is sitting beside Natalie. Sam and Kyle are nowhere to be seen. She laughs at something he says and jealousy rears its ugly head. That annoying voice in my head screams that he was my friend first. Ugh, I’m so pathetic.

  Once everyone is re-seated we crack open a breakfast of rice pudding, Natalie heating it over the fire until its piping hot. I could weep. It’s been so long since I’ve eaten warm food I’d forgotten what it was like. Never again will I take anything so simple for granted. Each of us is lost in our hearty meal, eyes rolling and stomachs gurgling with appreciation. I drop my spoon into the metal cup and lick my lips, sad that it’s over.

  “So where are we headed next?” Natalie asks, setting down her cup and turning to Sam. He gestures towards Drew, his mouth filled with pudding. All eyes swivel his way and Drew swallows.

 
“Leicester. We’re gonna need to stock up again by the time we get there, especially seen as we didn’t get chance in Milton Keynes.” He finally locks eyes with me, the first time he’s done so all morning. “Hopefully it will be a little more welcoming.”

  Everyone nods in agreement. Once breakfast is finished we pack up, smothering the fire before we start the next leg. Drew walks ahead with Sam, Kyle trailing them. Natalie walks beside me, short pixie hair bouncing and pack rattling with pots and pans. I keep my eyes on the floor, wishing she would walk ahead. It’s not that I don’t like her. I do, sort of. I’m just not the best conversationalist and the longer the silence stretches on the more uncomfortable I become. I kick at a rock and watch it skitter along the ground, landing with a thud in the grass.

  “So, you and Drew. Have you ever… you know?” she wiggles her eyebrows and I wrinkle my nose. Natalie laughs, snorting at my disgusted expression. I smile.

  “No, it’s just… never been an option for us.” I don’t mention our drunken attempt at filling the loneliness. That was just embarrassing. Natalie looks shocked but doesn’t ask anything else, her gaze boring into the back of his head. Drew turns as if he can feel it, flashing her a grin before returning to his conversation.

  “So, you were studying to be a vet? What was Drew doing before civilisation collapsed?” she asks. I don’t miss the fact that she’s asking a lot of Drew related questions. To be honest she’s been staring at him since we left Milton Keynes. I suppose a new face, especially after staring at Sam’s cheerless mug for months, is a nice distraction. Especially a face as handsome as Drew’s, even with all the bruising.

  “He was a policeman.” I say, kicking at another rock. “To be honest, I’m alive out of dumb luck. Of all the people that could have strayed across my path, I got a combat trained man in uniform.”