This time though, they didn’t have to pretend. The advancing men had already bought into the ruse. The survivors had barely gotten back on their feet when a new round of gunfire erupted. A bullet grazed Papillon’s rifle, ricocheting skyward with a zing.
“Too close!” He yelled above the incoming rapid-fire disintegrating their cover.
The walking corpses reacted almost as instantly as the gang members. Excited by the irresistible promise of warm flesh, a thousand wails rose in virtual unison. Objects everywhere were being kicked and turned over by countless shuffling feet, the noise ever-amplifying as their legions embarked on their hunt. The gang was now a mere 100 yards away. It was time for one last appearance. By now, Tom had figured, the men should have been distracted enough to abandon their mission to fight the dead and live another day. Yet the gang still seemed hell-bent on putting an end to his existence.
Another burst of shots shattered the remaining windows of the restaurant behind them. Soon his plan would be no longer sustainable, and they would have to return fire for real. Papillon was up first, a little too quick for the others a split-second behind. Fully anticipating another volley, they rose with apprehension. But to their surprise, none came.
The men had finally turned to face a different enemy: a wall of corpses moving towards their position from the intersection behind them. Like rivers of rot, the dead converged from all directions and merged into a raging stream. Some shuffled, while others broke into the kind of semi-jog Tom had last observed back in Juba.
Too fast to ignore, the men engaged the frontrunners first, the renewed sounds of their rifles only whipping the dead crowd into an even greater frenzy. The four, took cover one last time, before falling back into the restaurant. Hugging the floor, they laid down behind the wall-to-wall service counter. None of them needed to see what was happening. Outnumbered and under-equipped, the gang took the only course of action available. Jumping into the van, they sped off down the road, passing the restaurant in the process. Tom cursed. There was no time to escape the oncoming horde. They would need to weather the storm.
Bracing for the landslide of the dead, they pressed themselves against the back of the counter. It was the stench that announced the masses way before the first shuffling reached their ears. They had witnessed the powerful force of thousands of creatures moving with a singular purpose, but they had never been this close to the action. Never had they been this vulnerable. Not even back in South Sudan. Amadou’s eyes bulged with panic. Trembling with fear, Nadia squeezed hers shut. Tom clenched his jaws until they ached. Papillon curled into a ball and wished he could melt into the floor. The procession of the dead was now in full swing.
More and more corpses pushed ahead from the intersection, the masses downstream soon packed so tightly that they moved as one. The dead now invaded every open space along the road. Tom cringed as he heard footsteps. Pushed out of the way by their peers, the first creatures had wandered into the restaurant compound.
Standing there, somewhat out of sorts, they seemed to contemplate the sudden change in direction, before turning around and with outstretched arms forcing their way back into the throng. Some would sniff around the restaurant as if picking up a scent, while others, driven by a distant memory, sat down at the tables. In the end though, they all re-joined the stream.
As evening arrived, the shuffling became less frantic. With the original stimulus long gone, the creature’s excitement dwindled and they eventually slowed down to their usual stumble. Although their numbers had reduced, Tom estimated several hundred still occupied the street. If the trend continued, the group would find itself trapped behind the restaurant counter for some time, if not for the foreseeable future.
For Tom, getting stuck so close to home was not only unfathomable. It was out of the question. He knew that for now, he would have to hold back the frustration and anger, but doing so was another matter. It was mid-afternoon now and hope for making the long-awaited destination, slowly but surely faded. Tears of anger welled up in his eyes, and he clenched his jaws until the pain became unbearable.
It was Nadia’s hand on his back that had him snap out of it. Looking into his eyes quietly reassured him. Initially, he felt perplexed by the notion that behind her hardened exterior, Nadia should have a soft centre. Not only that, but given what they had already been through, he was surprised by her timing to show it. No matter, her simple gesture had the intended effect, and with restored calm came renewed faith. He had fought tooth and nail to get here, as had the others, including those who had either given or lost their lives in the process. Breaking down now would not only be a disservice to them but certainly not reflect the man he knew Julie had fallen in love with all these years ago. That man was still there. It was the new industry he had tried to embrace, along with the impact of a tiny virus that initiated a change within him. A change into something he never was, nor never had aspired to become.
‘The clarity of hindsight,’ Tom thought as he pulled himself back together. Things would be different when, not it, they reached safety. He had let his disdain for one job push him into another as far on the other side of the spectrum and, to some extent, corner of the world as possible. Sitting behind the counter of a Kenyan BBQ joint and besieged by corpses, it was an almost ironic realization. He had let his emotions silence his otherwise impeccable gut feeling. And now he and his family were paying the price. There would be enough time for reflection once all this lay behind them. They would leave this town, this region, this very continent and settle again back home or wherever he would find a normal job. One that neither involved killing people nor saving the world. He had seen both sides of the coin and neither held appeal anymore.
But for now, he needed to refocus and find strength for that last mile. A mile that, if they weren’t careful, would stretch like molasses. He squeezed Nadia’s hand. She let go with a satisfied nod, then her stony facade returned. She had accomplished her mission. Figuring it was as good a time as any to express his feelings, and since it was apparently time to hold hands, Papillon likewise placed his on hers. The slap on his wrist, delivered with fervour and precision, proved otherwise. Daggers emanated from Nadia’s icy stare, sending his ego into a crevasse. Wounded and indignified, he dropped his head back between his arms, wishing the moment had never happened. She turned away and smiled. She could not allow him to know. To her, it was as much a matter of personal confusion as it was about self-preservation. Besides, reciprocating his feelings at this very moment or until she herself had clarity on certain things, gained nothing. She had always been good at keeping secrets, and she intended to keep it that way, at least for now.
The hours crawled by as did the thinning crowd of corpses outside. Heat and dust, the smell of death, along with a lack of water, stretched the group’s endurance to its very limits. By late afternoon more than one of them was ready to take their chances in battle. By evening the putrid exodus, destination unknown, had slowed to less than a trickle, and the few remaining creatures had lost but all interest in moving any further. One by one, they stopped and remained in place, falling back into their usual trance.
“I am not spending the night here.” Tom was the first to speak in hours.
It was hard to tell whether the others agreed or not, but it hardly mattered. The restaurant had outlived its usefulness, and covering the last mile after dark was nobody’s preference. The question now begged which direction the gang had pulled with them its dead entourage. There were several turn-offs along the way, but if they had continued on straight towards Spring Valley, the chances of now making it there without being eaten alive were more than slim. Still, it was a chance Tom was perhaps not ready but certainly willing to take.
Scenarios of what a horde of shamblers assaulting their neighbourhood would mean for Julie and Anna’s safety were starting to play out in his head, and he did not like it. At the same time, the possibility that what they had witnessed was his family’s and the group’s own doom in the maki
ng was hard to ignore. Fatalism had never been part of his attitudinal repertoire, but it was starting to have an almost soothing effect. If only he hadn’t been this risk-averse, he could already be watching TV with his loved ones. Had his over-emphasis on safety had cost him time? Time which may otherwise have seen his family escape back when there was still time? And who were these other people he had taken under his wing? He had always been good on his own. Had he listened to his instincts the day the old man back at the UN base told him about Gono, things would have turned out differently. That he was sure of.
Tom berated himself for his decisions. Breathing heavily from the emotional strain, he motioned the others to crawl back into the kitchen area towards the rear. Once there, he informed them of his decision. There would be no vote. This time he would go with his gut. There was also no reason to force the others to accept the level of risk he was about to take.
‘Less than a mile…less than a mile.’ The mantra echoed through his mind.
“I am going to go for it,” Tom stated. “But I also understand that this is not something everyone may want to do. Those who wish to join me, you are welcome. If you don’t, that’s fine, too.”
“What do you mean ‘if we don’t’?” The others looked at him as if he had three heads.
“Have you lost your mind?” Amadou shook his head.
“He is joking, isn’t he?” Papillon turned to Nadia and shrugged.
“Not sure.” She replied, probing Tom with a familiar icy stare. “Or is he?”
“What? It’s fair, isn’t it?” Tom’s raised his eyebrows.
“C'est quoi ce bordel?!” Amadou began. “Man, I can’t believe you are even asking. Why would we not go? Are we not here because of you?”
The volume of his voice increased proportionally to his anger, but a ‘shush’ from Nadia reminded him of their present predicament.
“I mean,” Amadou continued more softly, “do the last weeks mean nothing to you? Do we mean anything to you?”
“Okay, okay! It was just a question!” Tom held up his hands in defence.
“And one you shouldn’t have felt to have to ask,” Papillon responded grumpily.
The other two bowed their head in disappointment.
“Alright, alright. I got the message. At least let me take point then.”
Tom stepped out of the restaurant and into the cool evening air. He felt moved by their loyalty, but a group hug would have to wait. Night had already drained all colour from the urban landscape. Faint moonlight now cast everything in monochromatic shades of grey, and objects became hard and harder to discern. There was movement outside the driveway. A tall figure shuffled into the entrance and stood there. Sensing his presence, its eyes scanned the forecourt. The dead and the living suspended in the moment, Tom and the corpse squared off. He could see the creature’s head tilt as it scrutinized the dark. He couldn’t help but wonder what, if any, conscious thought still remained deep inside the recesses of its rotten brain.
Mimicking its movement, he tilted his head in response, and the creature reciprocated. He straightened up. Like a mirror image, it followed suit but didn’t move towards him. Deadlocked in their strange encounter, they copied each other’s gestures. Then they stood in silence. The figure’s head tilted one last time and then turned back to the road. Shuffling away as slowly as it had arrived, it paid no further attention to Tom.
‘Ships that pass in the night.’ He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the corpse’s demeanour, but at the same time wasn’t complaining. One moan alerting others, and things could have turned out very differently.
He waited a little longer to see if there were any more of the dead following, but nothing stirred. He was about to give the others the all-clear when distant gunshots broke the calm. Far away, they sounded more like firecrackers and posed no immediate danger at all, but they were another reminder that the gang was probably still making its way back to headquarters or wherever they were headed. They also served as an ongoing distraction to the walking corpses, who would no doubt continue their pursuit until they either reached their singular objective or the stimulus subsided, whichever came first. Tom just hoped they had diverted away from the main road towards parts of the suburb other than his street.
A few minutes in and his prayers were answered. The road was once again virtually deserted, allowing them to walk right up the middle for several hundred yards until the local forest lined the right side, providing almost complete concealment. Tom checked his watch. The fluorescent dials showed 1am. It was far later than he had thought. They were close now. His mind recollected the route ahead. Just over a small rise and around a sharp bend, his home stretch would start. Minutes later, they would turn left into the side street. His street. A few properties down, his driveway awaited, and behind that driveway, the two people that mattered most in his life.
Almost able to taste success, his pace quickened, and he had to hold himself back from breaking into a run. Turning back, he could see the others struggling to keep up. He knew they would do their best without complaint. They had for as long as he had known them. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the others breathing heavily now.
‘You may not like the way things have happened, but without this, your team, you wouldn’t be here at all.’ He hated to admit it, but it was the truth of the matter.
Tom slowed down. Loyalty had been a precious commodity even before things fell apart. Now it was priceless. These three, never mind their different outlook, personalities, or even ambitions had stood by him and would do so no matter what. Do so, even after they picked up Julie and Anna. That, he was sure of. And while he would still need their support for his family’s escape, they had already earned the same level of loyalty in return. Tom waited, letting them catch up. A grateful Papillon put his hand on his shoulders as he bent forward, trying to normalize his breathing.
“Let’s slow down a bit,” Tom suggested, and there were no objections.
Soon the small stretch of forest covering a steep drop to down towards another road would thin. Cloud cover had moved on, and the half-moon above provided enough illumination for them to be spotted at least across short distances. Moving at a low crouch, careful to exploit every depression along the shallow ditch that ran along the main road, they made it up the rise. Here and there, they stopped, letting shambling shadows up ahead move along and out of their way. Whether dead, living, human, or animal, they didn’t know. But with just about anything and everything either out to eat, kill or rob them, it didn’t matter much.
Pushing on to the top of the rise, a sharp bend led from the open ground into Spring Valley, where undead traffic increased once more. From the relative safety of a stormwater drain, they watched the dark figures stagger between the shops, in and out of forecourts, and up and down the main strip. Why, now that they were dead, did these things still congregate in places they had frequented when they were still alive?
“They don't know why. They just remember. Remember that they want to be here.” Amadou whispered, the same question on his mind.
“How far now?” Nadia moved closer to Tom.
“You see the small set of shops up there to the left?” Tom pointed at a handful of older single-story buildings lined up close to the main road. “Around 300 meters after that, there is a side street to the left. A few driveways down that road, and that’s it.” Excitement and worry filled his voice in equal measure.
“Not far to go then,” Papillon’s smiled broadly, and his teeth shone in the moonlight.
“Getting through this bit here will be the hard part.“ Tom slid back down the embankment and began plotting their next move.
Dawn would soon make an appearance, pushing out the night as it always did and, along with it, the tactical advantage of night.
“Only one thing left to do.” Papillon opined. “We will need to make a run for it. But to do that, we need to be able to see.”
Tom knew the big man was right. There was no alte
rnate route. His plan had indeed been to move with speed, but looking over the virtual gauntlet of corpses before them, that plan was rapidly evaporating. As much as it pained him, they would need to sit out the remaining hours of darkness and then wait for the right moment to make that final dash in broad daylight.
They retreated fully into the drain and half awake, half asleep, but always acutely aware of their surroundings, they dozed until cooler air and early morning dampness announced the imminent arrival of the new day.
By first light, the full extent of the dead’s presence in the area became evident. They were spread out alright, but it would not take much for them to group up and form an even more formidable obstacle than they already presented. There was only one thing worse than a tight cluster or even a whole group of creatures, and that was when they spaced apart. Spread wide and deep, the corpses maintained just enough distance not to bump into each other, but not enough for the living to run through between them without getting stuck in their closing ranks in the process.
Yes, there were side streets the group could take. But apart from a number of equally disadvantageous cul-de-sacs, they all eventually led back to the main trunk. Plus getting lost in the network of twisting, narrow service roads could and would equally spell disaster.
Tom completed his 180-degree scan and found the others looking at him with expectation.
“Now what?” Nadia was first to ask.
“I guess breaking through them on foot is out,” Amadou stated what the others were thinking.
“We need a diversion.“ Tom’s mind raced. It was the only approach he could think of. “Not for long, of course, and not a huge diversion, but just enough to give us the space we need.”
The nearest of the shamblers was perhaps 50 yards away and had its back turned to them. Further to the left, others seemed fascinated by their own reflection in the glass of the large shop windows. Yet others lumbered along the road in either direction without particular motivation. Looking down the slope, they had come up during the night. Tom was relieved to see that it was completely free of creatures.
The Virophage Chronicles (Book 2): Dead Hemisphere [Keres Rising] Page 9