by Aline Riva
Rick looked to the blood about to drip and turned his head, struggling as he yelled for help, clamping his metallic hand about the creature's neck as his eyes widened in alarm and he realised the coldness of the winter was making his grip not as firm as he needed...
“HELP ME!” he yelled, his voice echoing about the forest as he struggled to keep the metal hand clamped about the corpse's throat and its open mouth away from his flesh as his grip threatened to slip. He yelled for help again as he struggled on, then as he fought in what he figured might well be the last moments of his life, the words Lois had spoken came back to him with terrifying clarity:
“Lurking corpses,” she had said, “All it takes is one bite, Rick!”
One bite would be all it took to end his life.
He had already lost a hand to a corpse attack.
There was no cure for the bite...
Chapter 3: Where the Dead Wander
As Rick's shout for help echoed through the forest the others turned back, guns ready, retracing steps through darkened woodland where trees stood stark and bare, as through the gaps in leafless boughs thick and twisted, they caught sight of Rick on the ground, desperately trying to fight off a corpse. His gun was out of reach and he was losing his grip on the throat of the creature.
David was first on the scene, followed by Vince and the Captain. Rick turned his face away as they fired together on the creature, the gas hit its features and made them bubble as dead eyes began to bulge. It rolled heavy on to its back as Rick scrambled to his feet, in time to see Jason and Marie join them, blasting the corpse until it convulsed then foamed red, and finally fell still, smoke seeping from its darkened mouth to join the haze that now hung about the forest. Rick brushed leaves and dirt from his clothing, adjusted his metal hand at the wrist and then grabbed his gun.
“Thanks, guys!” he said breathlessly, casting a glance back at the now smoking corpse.
“Any bites or scratches?” the Captain asked.
“No,” he said, sounding very relieved, “It was close though – this hand of mine doesn't function at one hundred percent in the cold... the connections to my wrist can't feel much heat, it slows movement and pressure.”
“If you feel you can't go on, you should go back,” Captain Swan said, “This war is almost over, Rick. We can't have you getting taken out because of a malfunctioning prosthetic. We all have a future to look forward to now. This is the final mile of the journey. You don't have to be here.”
Rick flexed his metallic hand, satisfied the connections were now tight enough against his wrist.
“But like you said, it's the last mile. I'll be okay, I'm not turning back.”
Then Rick looked to Vince, who was handling his gun with ease, artificial arm balancing the weapon as his undamaged hand stayed close to the trigger as he looked about the woods, scanning skeleton treetops, but seeing no more lurking undead.
“How about you, Vince? How's the arm?”
“Fine,” he replied honestly, “I don't have your kind of metallic connection- it's working as well as it does in average temperatures.”
Rick nodded.
“Okay, that's good. Just tell me if you get a problem, I don't have a kit with me but there might be something I can do to help.”
Vince smiled, meeting the gaze of the man who had saved his life when he had forced him to take the antidote.
“Don't worry about me. If that hand gives you trouble I'll be looking out for you,” he reminded him.
Then David cast a glance about the group, voicing a thought the Captain had been about to convey.
“And now I think we should stay close and tight together – no one lingers behind, okay?”
The others nodded.
Rick felt the phone vibrate in his pocket again, made a move to reach for it as they moved off, but then David spoke to him and as they made their way into the dark wooded area where little light escaped between evergreens and thick, wide old skeleton trees, the phone was forgotten.
“That was a close call,” David said as the two men walked side by side through the forest watching out for movement, as Vince and the Captain went on ahead followed by Marie and Jason, as they covered the area, making slow but steady progress as much further up ahead to the left and right, other areas were big scanned by troops as now and then flashes of uniform were spotted in the distance.
Far off a burst of gas was heard, then a dry, cracked screech.
“I think the other unit just got one,” Rick remarked as they walked on, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.
“I meant what I said back there – it was a close call.”
As Rick glanced at him, David's eyes shaded with sadness.
“We've lost too many people on this journey...I couldn't bear to lose another now, especially not a good friend like you.”
“I have a gift for survival,” Rick said, “Mortiz couldn't kill me, the head injury couldn't kill me – even a bite couldn't kill me back when I cut off my own hand. I think some of us are meant to survive this. Some of us are meant to see the other side of this war. I reckon all of us will make it now.”
“You're probably right, at least I hope you are,” David replied, “This is the last mission. Normal life isn't far off - and I can't wait to get back to it.”
Rick shot David a look of surprise.
“Normal life? Why would you want that? We're going to be heroes, the heroes of the Arctic Battle, the fight against the odds that tested the gas! We'll all be celebrities soon!”
David chuckled as he shook his head.
“Oh Rick, it's not for me. I just want to take off and have a nice, quiet life somewhere. I'm not worried about the fame and fortune. You grab it with both hands if you want to, follow your dreams.”
“I will!” Rick said as his eyes shone keenly, “I can see it now...Interviews, chat shows, I'll write my life story, some Hollywood producer will pick up on it and who knows, maybe I'll even play myself in the movie of my life...the man who cut off his own hand after a corpse bite, who protected the people of the Fountain Plaza then destroyed the bastard who killed them! It's not just for me...well...most of it is... but on a serious note I do want their story told too. I want the world to know what happened in that plaza. I don't want those people forgotten.”
David nodded.
“Telling their story would be a fine tribute to them,” he agreed as they followed the others down a dirt path where in the distance, the forest parted and beyond it, a field was visible.
“I'm going to set me and Lois up in a mansion,” Rick added, “Flossie will have everything she wants... And I'll be rich and famous, I'll be an A list celebrity -”
David started to laugh.
“Give it a rest, Rick!” he exclaimed, “You almost got chewed up by a corpse back there. Let's forget your ambitions of stardom and focus on the mission, okay?”
“I'm always focussed!” Rick exclaimed, “I just hope you don't get jealous when I'm an international sex symbol and you're sat at home with your quiet life!”
David shook his head as he laughed again, then the two men walked on, following the others, towards the place where leafless trees parted and the view of an open field lie beyond.
Soldiers moved off left and right, covering the nearby area in groups of six to eight as the civilian fighters followed on, led by Captain Swan as Vince walked beside her and they headed towards a large park area just across the field, where caravans stood empty, some with windows and doors wide open, here and there curtains fluttered in the breeze. The place was scattered with debris, from broken china to blankets and paper. Other smaller litter scattered about, lightly shifted by a chilly breeze. Beyond the caravans stood the bizarre sight of a funfair in the depth of winter, icicles hung from the frosty ferris wheel, fairground side shows stood rain lashed, damp and bitten by the sharp frost as further along, once brightly lit rides now stood dark, the bumper cars were covered in droplets of water where the frost was melting, the fast rid
es that bore coloured bulbs on their signs that ought to have looked like a riot of colour were glazed over dull by the cold.
The ferris wheel creaked on the winter breeze, the litter that scattered about the place pattered and tapped and scuttled along low to the grassy ground as the breeze carried it, over by a pay booth providing tickets, a window was open and knocked as the open door groaned on its hinges.
“I know what I'm thinking...” murmured the Captain as she cast a glance about the ghostly fairground.
“Fearland,” replied Vince, keeping his intact hand close to the trigger as his artificial arm, which looked real beneath his layers of clothing, balanced the weapon with ease and he scanned the area left and right, seeking a sign of movement, any small hint they were not alone here...
“Not quite Fearland,” David replied as he caught up and they paused to survey the scene, “This is a small funfair – and I see no mutant animals around...I wish I did. Maybe they've already come through this way...cleaned up for us.”
“I hope you're right,” the Captain replied, then as they heard a thud, they turned to see Marie and Jason had finished searching the caravans, Jason had kicked open a door and gone inside, then come out again just as Rick came around from the back, having searched the nearby vehicles once used by the travelling fair.
“Nothing back here,”Rick called.
“Nothing here, either,” Marie added, taking the lead from Jason as they walked up towards the fair to meet the others.
“Let's hope this place is as quiet as it seems,” David murmured, keeping track of the sound of the breeze and the creaks of the ferris wheel and the slam of the pay booth window as he took in the sound of the place surrendered to the elements, waiting for something else to intervene and alter its natural state.
As they passed the bumper cars and the ferris wheel, now reaching the middle of the small fair, Rick rubbed the back of his neck with his metallic hand, then shivered as the chill of the cold metal didn't help the prickle he felt as he was hit by an eerie sense of deja vu.
“These places will always give me the creeps!” he said, looking nervously left and right as Jason headed off to check the side shows, Marie took the ghost train with David and Vince went over to an enclosed area that said Fun House above its roof in what would have once been a vibrantly lit sign, then he crossed an area with distorted mirrors and went inside.
“We should wait here,” the Captain said to Rick, “Let's just watch out for the others in case something comes along...there are so many routes around here going towards the hillside, anything could be waiting.”
“And we're ready for it,” Rick vowed, checking his gas gun then remaining watchful as the two of them waited for the others to return from their search. Then he noticed an abandoned candyfloss stand and smiled, looking to the untouched sticks beside it in a container. As he grabbed the bundle and tucked them away inside his coat, he had a smile on his face and so did the Captain.
“I think a certain little grey girl will be very pleased to have a collection of new icky sticks!” she said.
Rick smiled as he thought of Flossie.
“She'll love them!” he replied fondly.
As they stood together, behind them, the ferris wheel creaked, turning slightly in the wind as the car nearest the ground became level with the exit and the metal bars that enclosed the gateway area. A body was hung face down over the car, but neither Rick nor the Captain had spotted it as their backs were turned. At first its long hair swayed in the wind, dry, dark tendrils whipped about by the icy breeze as dead arms swayed in rhythm with the wind buffeted car. Then slowly, its head raised as dead eyes blazed and teeth bared...
Through the open doors, into the one level maze of track that wound around darkened tunnels of the ghost train, the whole place was plunged into blackness, save for shards of light that fell in here and there from loosely connected walls where the attraction was bolted together. The cars had been outside on the track, making it easy to enter the ghost train and simply follow the route around to the outside once more, but the track was narrow, the ground uneven as it rose and fell intended to take the car on a bumpy ride and around sharp turns.
Marie walked beside David, now and then catching the sleeve of his jacket to steady herself as they passed overhanging rags dampened by the winter and the plastic skeletons that hung at random points about the first stretch of tunnel. Turning the corner into more darkness punctured by shards of light, she caught her breath, seeing a figure loom and then step out of view at the other end of the tunnel.
“Did you see that?” she whispered.
David was ready with the gas gun, taking a cautious step forward, following the track as she did the same, clutching at her own weapon as her sights set unwavering on that turn at the end where she was certain she had seen someone, or something lurking.
“No, I saw nothing,” he whispered in reply, then they paused, listening, but heard only a strengthened wind whip a gust outside, making the walls of the structure rattle. They both looked up in unison, seeing the rags that hung from the ceiling once intended to brush the heads of those enjoying the creepy ride dancing on the cold breeze as a blast of it shifted through the interior.
“There's nothing there,” David said, taking the lead, then he spoke again, fixing his sights on the nearing sharp turn.
“I know I saw something...”Marie replied in a hushed voice.
David stayed set on the view up ahead, where the sharp turn looked part lit by the gaps in the bolted walls and was part plunged into darkness.
“Trick of the light, or something hanging overhead...more rags...it's nothing...” he told her.
They passed the portrait of a demon as battery operated eyes flickered weakly in red and stuttered out, then they turned the corner sharply, gas guns at the ready. Then it lunged, half tipping from the wall again, half a body, stuffed with padding, a rubber witches face set in a grin as its pointy hat sat on its head at a crooked angle and fading laughter cackled as it bobbed on a rusted spring, green eyes glowing.
David looked to Marie and laughed.
“There's your creature!” he exclaimed.
And the lurking corpse lunged with a roar, bounding out from behind the witch , rotting hands peeling as it made a grab for Marie. As she screamed the sound joined with the hiss of the gas gun as David blasted the creature, sending a mist of gas into its face as it covered the corpse and the witch figure on the wall that cackled and cackled as the zombie's eyes bulged, burst and then its mouth foamed with red froth and it fell, mouth blackened and smoking on to the tracks. The eyes were still glowing green and the witch was still cackling, a repeated sound from a cheap speaker set into its throat that ran a wire to a battery pack.
“Let's go, this place is clean now,” David said as Marie ran her fingers through her hair and then brushed at the shoulder of her jacket, wishing she could brush off the memory of that thing laying a hand on her.
They began to walk towards the light at the end of the track, where the open doors led to the outside world once more, and the battery powered witch laughed all the way, her cackle echoing about the tunnel as they made their way back to daylight.
Jason had finished searching the side shows and Vince had just declared the fun house all clear when the scream had sounded from the ghost train. As they ran over, David and Marie stepped out of the tunnel, a trail of smoke and gas seeping out in their wake.
“Just the one,” David confirmed to the others, “We handled it!”
“You did!” Marie replied, “It almost had me.”
“Not on my watch,” David murmured as she turned back to join the others.
As he left the attraction and followed on, his sights were now set on Marie and the thought of what could have happened – the notion of losing her now was actually terrifying...
Over at the heart of the fair, as the creature gave a roar and leapt from the car of the ferris wheel, Rick and Captain Swan both turned around sharply, as a
cloud of concentrated gas burst from their guns, losing the creature in its mist as it screeched and bubbled. As the corpse fell its eyes exploded and bloody froth foamed as its insides smoked.
Rick smirked as he looked to the Captain.
“Nice shooting, Tina.”
“Likewise, Rick!” she said.
Their guns were still smoking traces of gas as the others ran back to see the corpse destroyed on the ground.
“I thought this area was clean?” Vince exclaimed.
“It was,” Rick replied, pointing upwards with a metal finger, “But we didn't check the big wheel, did we!”
“We should move on,” the Captain said, turning to the place where the fairground ended and hillside beckoned.
The path that ran through the hillside showed a park in the distance, where a children's playground was deserted as swings hung icy in the cold, shifting slightly on ropes agitated by the breeze. Further on was a lake where weeping willows dipped their branches into frozen water and beyond it was the village – houses dotted here and there that became more visible as the group climbed the low hillside, then the view opened up clearly.
It would have been beautiful in times of peace, but the roads were deserted and here and there wrecked and abandoned cars blocked the routes. It was a ghost town now. The group entered the park, saw troops in the distance take the empty playground, then move on down a shady lane. On the other side, another unit made their way past the lake, then left the park and headed on to the road that led away from the small village.
The Captain paused to listen to a message on the radio.
“Take the north route, Captain – village A has been cleared on the north side the unit is now heading onward to the next designated point. Go across Blossom Lane and check the south side then proceed to secure a place of rest for the night .”
“Will do, control,” Tina replied, “It's almost quiet out here!”