Biting Back (Book 1): Four Women of the Apocalypse

by Mulderrig, Claire

  The Four Women of the Apocalypse.

  Acknowledgements.

  I know this is a very ‘writery’ thing to do and I also know that most people will skip over this, and that’s fine.

  But I hope that the ones who do read this will join me in thanking a few people that helped put all of this together.

  Firstly, I have to thank Angela Smith. What a driving force this woman is! This lady took my first little short story and embroidered her ideas around it and encouraged me to do more, and more. Thank you, Angela.

  Secondly, I have to thank Gillian Downing. If she had not had the faith to pass my story on to Angela, it would still be sitting gathering dust. Thank you, Gillian.

  Thirdly, I was fortunate to win the chance to have the following words edited by Sheila Shedd at Swift Creative. Thank you, Sheila.

  Fourthly, I give a huge thanks to Matt Hay. An author, and friend who simply inspired me to have a wee go at writing something. Thank you, Matt.

  Fifthly, I must say a big thanks to Aaron O’Neill for my cover art. It’s amazing. Thank you, Aaron.

  Lastly, I need to thank my husband Rob. He is just the most supportive guy I know. Simply anything I want to try, he is there for me. Thank you, Rob.

  If you have lasted to this point, then I would like to also add a massive thank you to all of you too, for buying this little novella to read.

  I hope you like it.

  Now, go on…get reading. If you like it leave a review….please and thanks.

  INTRODUCTION

  “We’ll be right back after this short commercial break.” Abigail smiled sweetly at the lens of the camera until she had the ‘all clear’ shouted around the studio.

  The make-up artist swished in and turned Abigail’s swivel chair to face her whilst she repaired whatever damage had been incurred within the last fifteen minutes.

  Abigail was used to this routine now and kept quiet and poised for her return to the airwaves without a fluster to show.

  “Okay, um, Abigail, we are going to have to break from the script now, we have some breaking news. Stand by…” Neill, her producer, spoke into her ear.

  “One minute to air!” The shout in the studio from one of the production assistants, brought about the usual flurry of activity.

  Touching the earpiece in her right ear, Abigail looked up to the gallery and said, “what’s the breaking news? I need some information if you’re asking me to report it!”

  “Just read the autocue, Abigail.” Neill sounded slightly panicked now. “This is crazy to the max!”

  Abigail could hear raised voices and lots of phones ringing in the background and squinted against the studio lights to see if she could spot what was going on up in the suspended mezzanine but the lights against her were just too strong.

  Okay, Abigail thought to herself, if this is the big one, a disaster or attack, my face will always be associated with this news…pucker up girl! She stretched her neck to the right and left and tilted her head back and forwards.

  The countdown started “10, 9, 8,…”

  Abigail took a deep breath in, held it for a two-count, then let her lips relax and flip together on the out-breath. She sounded like a horse asking for sugar, but no one took any notice.

  “5, 4…” The silent hand signal counted down the final three seconds, and the light blinked to red on top of the camera.

  Smiling her most practiced genuine smile, Abigail began.

  “Welcome back to WKOS Sunrise News. We have some breaking news now to share with you…”

  The large words started scrolling down the invisible screen in front of the camera.

  “Following on from our story yesterday regarding the flu epidemic in Germany, we can now report that this virus has spread at an alarming rate and is now upon our very own borders. The whole of Germany has been in a state of emergency since last Tuesday.

  An effective news block has blanketed any information leaving the country until now, but we can report that this is far more serious than initially thought.”

  “German officials remain silent, but we have received information from just across the German/ Swiss border, which we can see has been closed and barricaded.”

  A picture flashed up on her computer screen, inset into her desk. It showed the border crossing completely cut off and blocked with army vehicles. No personnel seemed to be there.

  “We have been in contact with our source who has managed to pass the following information on to us.

  The flu virus is highly contagious and is resulting in death in the majority of cases. However, this is not the end, the virus then restarts the vital functions, creating a reanimation of the body. There is only one purpose for this: to continue the spread of the virus.

  “This is accomplished through biting the flesh of the uninfected. The only way to stop these reanimated corpses is to damage the head or the br… the brain…”. Abigail waivered and looked into the camera, unblinking, trying to take in the words she had just spoken.

  “Abigail!! Don’t stop! Keep going!!” Neill’s voice shouted down her earpiece.

  Paling underneath her makeup, she took a deep breath and continued. “If...if the initial infection is survived, the host will likely be immune to further infection through bites.”

  Oh my god!! William! She thought, he stayed in bed this morning saying that he wasn’t feeling too well...he thought he was coming down with the flu or something!! Shit. Next break, I am calling him!

  “Our source has retrieved an information leaflet that was distributed to each home throughout the German State. The following is a translation of what was on that sheet.” A rolling transcription obliterated Abigail’s face on-screen.

  WARNING

  ● Virus is passed through close contact, inhalation, bodily fluids, or breaks in the skin.

  ● Stay indoors. Lock and barricade doors and windows.

  ● Store food/water/medical supplies

  ● If bitten, stay inside and treat as flu; hospitals are overrun.

  ● Flu like symptoms may progress to point of death. Quarantine the corpse as soon as possible.

  ● Watch for reanimation and rabies-like aggression. Take all precautions necessary.

  ● The only way to stop the infected is to damage the head/brain.

  FLU SYMPTOMS

  - General lethargy/fatigue - Heaviness in extremities

  - Sharp rise in temperature - Nausea

  - Headache - Unconsciousness

  - Skin irritation/sensitivity - Pain in and around eyes

  Note:

  Survival of initial symptoms, may produce immunity to further infection from contact with the reanimated.

  BITES

  - Treat bites as you would any injury.

  - Clean and dress the wound.

  - If patient is unconscious, continually monitor for loss of pulse.

  - Upon death, reanimation is rapid.

  Abigail's face replaced the words on the screen. No smile showed this time, a very worried look took its place.

  “This virus is now here. We have been informed that hospitals in France are overrun and several cases have already been reported along the south coast of England. We are urging all members of the public to take extreme caution and to take steps to prepare for a major event…”

  A single tear grew and dropped over Abigail's bottom eyelid. It rolled down her cheek leaving a track through her thick cosmetic layer. She made no attempt to wipe it away, as she stared into the lens and said “This is Abigail Forrester on WKOS News Network. We shall now go for a commercial break.

  - Susan -

  Su
san’s phone buzzed. She ignored the alert. If she didn’t get the hoovering done now, she never would. Her two dogs saw the vacuum being readied for use and darted out the front door.

  For fucks sake! So much for protection! If an attacker came at me with a dustbuster they would let him do what he bloody wanted to me! Yeah, Thanks girls! she shook her head.

  The mobile phone buzzed again. This time with a sharp ‘ting’ telling her she had a private message too. “Fuck me! I’m popular today!” Smiling, she picked up her phone to see who messaged her. Her smile grew wider when she saw it was from her self-adopted sister, Gilly. Well, I’ll just see what she says, and then get on with the hoovering.

  ‘Hey sis’ the message started. She read on, ‘wtf is going on? Have you seen the news? Everyone in the group is talking about it!’

  Curious, Susan decided to check into her regular group on Facebook. A mixed bag of people from all over that could just shoot the shit and have a laugh. But, an underlying love of zombie literature had originally brought them all together. She felt closer to some of these people than one or two members of her own family! This was how she met her good friend, Gilly. They’d hit it off straight away and soon felt like family to each other. As it turned out, Susan and Gilly only lived about forty minutes from each other and as their friendship grew, they often ended up in each other’s houses, popping the kettle on and having a cuppa and a chat.

  A quick check in the group didn’t give her any answers except how to correct her grammar or how to shag a sheep! Sniggering, she quickly typed back ‘Morning to you too, sis. Nope, can’t see anything odd in the group and I’ve not heard anything! Why?’

  Putting the phone back on the table, she plugged in the hoover and started in her quest to scare the dogs witless whilst cleaning the carpets at the same time.

  After she was finished, she emptied the cylinder and put the cleaner away. Feeling less guilty now that she had actually done something in the house, she put the kettle on, got her mug out and put a tea bag in. Then she sat down heavily at the kitchen table whilst waiting for the water to boil. She picked up her phone again and saw that she had another message from Gilly, and a long list of alerts from all over Facebook.

  Holy moly! Well something must be occurring, Susan mused as she started to open up the notifications.

  A different alarm sounded, announcing a text message arrival. Tapping on it first she saw it was from her husband, Michael. He was working away and would often send text messages to relieve his boredom of being away from home. These conversations could go on a while, so Susan decided to make her tea first and then settle in for the goss.

  Letting the tea-bag soak in the hot water, Susan opened Michaels text message first.

  ‘Hiya love…Listen, I don’t want to worry you and I’m not totally sure what’s going on, but there is something happening here. Lots of people are getting sick. I’m okay, but, I am going to head back home early. It’s pointless me staying in the city when there is hardly anyone in the offices! I love you. Please stay inside. I don’t want you getting this thing on top of everything else! See you in a couple of hours or so. Xxx’

  Her face expressed the sequence of his message, first with a frown and then a smile. She started to message him back.

  ‘I love you too! I’m fine and can’t wait for you to come home. You can leave that bug there please! I’ve even just hoovered...perfect housewife that I am! Lol xxx’

  Whilst waiting for his reply, she finished making her tea. She added a small dash of milk and a quick stir. She sat back down at the table, and sipped from her cup carefully as it was still scalding hot and her mouth ulcer was throbbing. She swiped screens and read Gilly’s message next.

  ‘I can’t believe what I am reading sis! You’ve got to check out the news. Go on! Channel 101 is covering it now. I think this is it…’

  A wave of fatigue washed over Susan, and a hot sweat started under her headscarf sweeping down over her face, causing perspiration to bead over her brow and nose. Sighing, she plucked a tissue from a box at her elbow, reached up and removed her scarf. Her short hair was fine and downy. The chemo really did a trick on her this time. Even her eyebrows and eyelashes had deserted her. She wiped the sweat away. The flush slowly passed and she felt much better. Could it be the menopause? Or was it the cancer? Either way, it was just one more symptom that she could, and would, have to bear.

  She checked her watch and saw that it was nearly ten o’clock. Ugh, time for her morning tablets. She opened up her cupboard and removed the Tupperware box containing all of her medication.

  Her phone informed her she had a text message waiting and she glanced over her shoulder to see a return message notice from her husband.

  Her mind wandered as she automatically started popping pills from their blister packs. She remembered the young doctor who had assumed that she had already been told that her cancer had spread. He was huffing and awkward and said that he was sorry about the prognosis. How the nurses and doctors in the palliative care unit would be so proficient at looking after her needs from here. Watching her confused expression, he realised the blunder he had just made, and an hour later she found herself sitting in a stark office alone, with the new knowledge that she was not going to beat her breast cancer. It was now in the bones. It had spread too far. Words. Words. Words. ‘Did she want a cup of tea?’ ‘Six months, maybe a year’ ‘Should they call someone?’

  It was left up to Susan to break the news to Michael. That was one of the hardest conversations she had ever had. The tears and silences along with the slow acceptance of what this meant was heartbreaking. She had been with this man for nearly thirty years. He was her soulmate, her other half, and, as they joked, only whole when they were together.

  She shook herself out of the daydream, realising with a sad smile that that whole conversation had been just over two months ago. Tick-tock. Her mind taunted her. With a cupped hand holding the twelve different, multi-coloured pills she raised it to her mouth and took them all in, swallowing them with a glug of her now cooled tea.

  She made her way into the living room with her mug and phone, and using the remote control, put the TV on.

  She sat down on the sofa and was immediately surrounded by her two black dogs, one on her lap, and the other at her feet. Smiling, she let the warmth of their body heat comfort her.

  She opened the message from her husband. ‘I wish you would leave the housework alone, sweetheart, I will do it when I get home. Just rest and put your feet up! Honestly...I enjoy doing it!! xx’

  She quickly replied ‘Stop worrying. I’m fine. And you’re a crap liar...you hate doing any housework! I will see you later. X’ An immediate response of an emoji kissing the air returned.

  The TV was already on the WKOS news channel, and there looked to be a lot of words rolling across the screen, with little pictures dotted around the perimeter, framing a nervous looking newscaster as she tried to video call an expert. Abigail Forrester was normally a very calm, cool and collected newsreader and was Susan’s favourite, especially when she started to quiz one of the many politicians on some shameful story in their past that had just leaked. It was strange now to see her without that smile, a decided lack of confidence reaching through the screen. She was apologising that the following images may be offensive to some viewers, due to their graphic nature.

  A blurred video showed what looked like a mob fighting in the street; a car seemingly running over a body and dragging it along the road until it rolled free. Then the picture shaking and loud swearing bleeped out as the body of the man awkwardly gets up and makes his way over to the cameraman. Oh my god! How is he walking? His leg is completely smashed! Susan thought, unable to wrench her eyes from the screen. Unintelligible words were shouted as the injured person limped and shuffled beyond the camera and attacked the person behind. A fleeting shot of pure white eyes was caught as the figure stumbled past, then the picture cut off. The video immediately started to repeat itself on a loop.
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br />   Susan’s jaw had dropped, causing her mouth to hang open forming a silent ‘O’. She started to channel hop. All of the news stations seemed to be buzzing with similar stories. Yet not one of them said how, or what was going on, or what to do. She decided to leave it on her original channel and let it run in the background.

  She picked up her phone and quickly typed to Gilly, ‘What is happening sis? Is this real? Are my drugs making me see things?’ and pressed send.

  Removing the little dog from her lap, she made her way to the front door, left open, as was usual in these parts. The garden in the front was nothing special, but she loved everything about it and the rural setting the house was in. The sea and mountains made this a paradise that she had never once regretted moving to almost sixteen years ago. Her two boys, now all grown up and working with lives of their own, meant that this was the time she should be looking forward to, relaxing and retiring with her husband. But, God, Mother Nature, that bitch karma, or whoever it was that controlled the universe, was playing a cruel trick on her now. She never really got maudlin, often reflecting that she’d had so much, and she had accepted that she would never see any grandchildren. She was more worried about what would happen to her family after she was gone. Would Michael be okay? Would the boys look out for him? Would he find someone else? She took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. It still amazed Susan how her mind wouldn’t let things rest; at every opportunity her imminent demise entered her head.