I direct Flynn to take a left turn off the main road. He complies and pulls up at an entrance that’s so covered with briars it’s barely recognisable as a way in anymore.
Flynn gives me a look to ask if I’m serious. The glance of displeasure I give him back lets him know I am.
He knocks it into first gear and slowly begins to push his way down the laneway. It’s so rough and overgrown; no normal car could possibly go through it.
Shawn and I usually hike through the woods from another side. I’m guessing that’s the route he took this time as this entrance shows no traces of interference.
After another half mile of driving, or should I say off-roading, my fears are proven correct as the hotel comes into view. What’s left of it that is.
“You sure this is the place you’re supposed to meet up with your friends,” Flynn queries.
“Seeing as I’m the one who made the plan, then yes I’m pretty sure,” I snap back rather unfairly.
As we drive into the gravelled courtyard of the hotel, the true extent of the damage is revealed. Nothing remains except for the outer walls that are charred black. The roof has caved in on itself. The whole place is a smouldering wreck. It must be burning for a few days to be in this condition.
I scan the whole area hoping to spot Shawn’s jeep but to no avail. Without thinking I unbuckle my seatbelt and hop out.
“Emma,” I yell, “Shawn.”
There’s no answer. I don’t know what to think. Did they get this far only to have something happen to them? Did they see that the place was on fire and decide not to come? Did they even make it this far?
The latter was the worst thing to think, as it puts me over the edge and I franticly start yelling their names at the top of my voice. I only stop when Flynn’s strong arm wraps around me and his hand covers my mouth.
“Are you nuts? Do you want to alert every low life in a ten mile radius to our location? Look your friends obviously aren’t here so calm the hell down okay.”
I nod my head and he releases his grip on my mouth. I push his arm away in annoyance.
“Look man. Don’t go acting like a little bitch. You know I’m right.”
I’ll never admit it to him but I know he is, so I just remain quiet. My rashness could have landed us in serious hot water. I’ll have to think before I act in future.
“Have you any idea where else they would go?” Flynn asks in a mellower tone.
Emma’s farm springs to mind. That’s my only hope to find them now. Please god let them be there.
I try to be reassuring by thinking if they stuck to the original plan then that’s exactly where they would be. This helps me to convince myself I was getting worked up stupidly and that my new priority is the get to that farm to rendezvous with them.
With a new goal in place, I feel like some of the worry has being lifted off my shoulders. If only I was this good at persuading others into believing what I say; I probably wouldn’t be such an overly shy guy.
I finally reply to Flynn’s question, “Ya I do actually and I’m going to need to get my hands on a car of my own.”
He seems a bit put off keel by my abruptness. I’ve managed to reverse our roles. I’m the smooth operator and he’s the one lacking composure. It doesn’t take him long to regain it however.
“You’re heading off on your own now is it?” he says, sounding like he’s speaking down to me.
It’s a fair reaction in response to my seeming lack of gratitude. I decide to rectify the situation, as I still need his help procuring a car.
“Ya that’s right. You’ve been so good to me, but I can’t keep relying on you. I’ve got to find my friends and I’m sure you have people that you want to be rejoined with.”
This gesture seems to strike the right chord and hopefully makes it seem like I’m not only planning for my own gains.
“The army is all I’ve got. I was gonna go back to my barracks and bring you and your friends with me. But now I don’t know if there’s even a barracks anymore. I still have to go though, on top of everything it is my job after all.”
“I understand. We each gotta do what we gotta do I suppose.”
This is enough to extract the offer of help I was aiming for.
He makes a plan to drive me in search of a suitable abandoned car from the many strewn along the roadsides. Preferably one with plenty of fuel and a key. This suits me perfectly so I accept his offer.
Not wasting any time we get back into the jeep and hit the road again. Backtracking the way we came, as there was an abundance of cars strewn about, it doesn’t take too long before we come across three saloons and a van sitting close together on the road. Any of them would be more than sufficient.
Before we get too close, Flynn slows to a halt. He sensibly surveys the surrounding area for any signs of a possible ambush. Everything is out in the open and all appears to be safe. The only sign of anything is a herd of cattle looking on from an adjacent field. Flynn, not seeing them or anything else as being a threat, begins to move forward at a snail’s pace.
“It all seems quiet, but this is risky,” he announces, “When I pull up, you wait here while I check out the cars okay?”
I don’t argue.
“If there are no keys then I’ll hotwire the most suitable car,” he adds for a finish.
He stops the jeep again, roughly twenty metres away from the first of the cars. Before getting out, he suggests keeping my eyes peeled and my gun at the ready. Upon his recommendation I dig into my hoody pocket, fish out the pistol and flick off the safety switch.
Flynn opens his door and gets out, taking his rifle from its hold-away compartment on the driver’s door. He lifts the gun to chest level and holds the stock in tight against his shoulder.
He proceeds forward, all the time checking from left to right, cautiously searching for any possible enemy surge.
The whole time I’m maintaining a constant lookout in front and behind us, focusing mainly on our rear though as I feel we’re most vulnerable to attack from there.
Flynn reaches the first car and quickly scouts the inside to ensure it’s empty of inhabitants. The driver’s door is open.
I watch as he does one last scan of the area before climbing in. He’s out again in a matter of seconds and signals the absence of keys.
As I watch him swiftly move on to the next car, my mind starts to wonder where all the occupants have actually gone to. There’s no sign of any bodies or even blood for that matter.
Were the people forced to stop and make a run for it? Maybe the military found them and took them away to safety? Or maybe they were all transformed? All of these are viable possibilities, and it’s scary not knowing exactly which, if any, are true.
Flynn nips in and out the second car faster than he did the first. Another salute indicates there’s still no success.
He seems very on edge now as he starts to make his way to the last car. This is taking too long. He’s now about thirty five metres away.
His movements seem erratic, as he swings his gun from side to side. He seems spooked. Maybe he’s heard something I couldn’t from back here in the jeep.
He starts to walk at an increased tempo and bypasses the van, showing no interest in it. He must consider it too big for me to be cruising around in.
The closer he gets to the final car, the more the van is starting to obscure my view of him.
I’m starting to get tetchy now too, so I get out of the jeep and sidestep to the left until I can see him again.
All this time, I continually observe the landscape around us. My heart is pounding as I clasp the gun tightly with both hands, the index finger of my right hand resting on the trigger.
The four doors are wide open on the remaining car. A quick glance is enough to show him that it’s safe to enter. He clambers in and searches around for the keys. He obviously hasn’t found any, as it appears he’s trying to hot wire the ignition. He vanishes from my view to fiddle around under the steering c
olumn.
This whole process of obtaining some transport is taking much longer than I expected. I presumed I could simply hop into a random car and drive off.
I’m beginning to feel very uneasy about being so out in the open. I can’t help but ask myself, who leaves their car abandoned and unlocked, but still has the presence of mind to take the keys with them. This whole scenario reeks of a trap, and uncaring if I’m heard by undesirable ears, I call out to Flynn to retreat.
My holler coincides with the back and side-sliding doors of the van flying open, and a flock of disgusting looking creatures spilling forth.
I count roughly nine or ten in total. There’s a mixture of men, women and children. Two hastily head in my direction, while the rest make a beeline for the car with Flynn stuck inside. The doors being wide open means there’s no way to lock himself in.
All the commotion has obviously alerted him, as I spot his head protruding above the headrest of the driver seat.
His response time is fast, really fast, as the back windscreen shatters due to a hail of bullets fired from inside the car.
Two of the infected hit the deck, falling prey to the deadly barrage. The remaining, however, fan out as they approach making it impossible to aim at them all.
I can’t worry too much about Flynn though, as I have my own problems to deal with. A woman and a kid, whose age I deem to be around eleven, are confronting me.
I didn’t think I could shoot a kid but apparently I don’t have any qualms about it, as without realising, my restless trigger finger squeezes off several shots.
My aim isn’t up to much from this distance however, and most miss the mark. I do manage to lodge two of my brass jacketed projectiles into the younger of the on-rushers. One of which popped him in the head, resulting in a gooey exploding cranium and instantaneous slump forward.
I don’t have for feeling any sorrow as the second one, completely un-phased by her comrade’s demise, keeps coming at me. Ghastly multi-pitched yelps, like those of a hyena, accompany her charge.
I relent from my inaccurate shooting long enough to breath deep and steady myself. The muscles in my forearm are taut. My aim is straight and as the vile thing comes within a five metre range, three accurate pulls on the trigger leave three blood spurting holes in her chest. From such a close range the damage inflicted is fatal and the cries of malevolence are subdued.
Meanwhile, Flynn has gotten out of the car and is continuing his hail of fire, hitting two more targets. But the speed at which they’ve descended upon him means all he can do now is try and scrap his way out of the confrontation. I don’t shoot in his direction for fear of hitting him.
He flails out with the butt of his rifle smashing heads and whatever other body parts he can. He’s fighting a losing battle though and is forced to the ground.
It all reminds me of the incident with the taxi driver. Just like that time I don’t run to the rescue. However, this time it is not through fear. This time I have a full understanding of the circumstances. This time I know... I know that Flynn is done for.
The whole assault only lasted several seconds and is over frighteningly fast. Only four of the original group of attackers remain. A few bites to his face means Flynn will be one of them soon.
Now that they’ve dealt with him, they turn their attention to me. One is kneeling on Flynn’s chest preventing him from getting up. The bloodthirsty eyes of the other three stare me down.
“Stay back,” I order.
A ridiculous command I know, so instead I fire a single round towards them. It whizzes past them into the distance.
My cheekiness doesn’t go unnoticed as they begin walking towards me as if to say, ‘If that’s all you’ve got, then you’re not even worth chasing down.’
Like a cat with a mouse, the cat doesn’t chase down the cornered mouse. It slowly closes in. It enjoys itself. It toys with it and lets it wallow in fear before striking.
I won’t forgive them. Not just these zombies in front of me, but all of them. They’ve taken too much, not just from me, but from the country as a whole. I can’t stand it anymore. Anger floods through me.
“Come on ta fuck ya cunts,” I bellow.
I’m about to fire again when a pitiful, choking laugh comes from behind the trio.
“Looks like you don’t need to find another car after all. Save your bullets kid. Find your friends.”
He waves to me with a salute. It’s a final wave goodbye. But it’s not just that. In his hand I can barely make out a shiny silver metal ring.
I don’t even get time to respond, as the grenade still strapped to his body explodes, ripping through all those in its path.
All that’s left as the blood infused dust settles is lethal carnage. The blast has dismembered Flynn’s body and that of the zombie kneeling on top of him beyond recognition. The others have being cut down to a lesser degree, but regardless all are dead.
It’s truly a bitter-sweet, sickening victory. The enemies defeated but at the cost of another ally.
Here I am again, all alone. Not even the cows are around to keep me company. They ran off, afraid from the sound of the gun shots.
Collapsing to the ground I break down. Tears are rolling down my face. It’s all too much to take anymore. The amount of death and destruction. Not knowing where my friends are and if they’re safe. The probable inevitability, that I too will fall victim to some monster somewhere.
For the briefest of moments there’s the contemplation of sending a bullet between my temples, saving myself any further agony. The thought is fleeting at best however, as the fear of killing myself is far superior to the fear of future uncertainties.
I let another few tears leak from my cry holes before standing up and dusting myself off. With my moment of weakness over and a good sob to boot, I’m ready to cop on and get back to business.
I slowly walk towards the location where Flynn’s disembodied remains lie. It’s a really disturbing scene. There’s blood and chunks of flesh alongside other less damaged body parts. It’s just like a scene from a Quentin Tarentino movie with it’s extremely over the top gore.
I feel really cold-hearted as I reach into the vile mush and pull out Flynn’s rifle, ensuring to hold it by a part that’s clean and free from blood. It’s no use to him anymore after all. He’d want me to take it.
I quickly turn on my heels and get back to the jeep, placing the blood spattered gun in the boot area. I will have to clean it off later in case any of the blood is contaminated. Hopefully it’s undamaged by the blast and still functions.
I sit into the driver’s seat and adjust it to my own leg length. Mine are shorter than Flynn’s are. I feel miserable as I correct myself... Than Flynn’s were...
I buckle my seat belt and turn the key. Before I drive off, I remove the clip from my hand gun. There’s only one bullet remaining. That’s not gonna help much but it’s better than nothing; an insurance policy perhaps.
Popping the clip back in, I place the gun on the passenger seat beside me. The petrol gauge reads three quarters of a tank of petrol. From here to where I’m going is only another two hours of driving, so I should get there with plenty of fuel to spare.
I take another moment to arrange myself before pulling off. My hands have a slight tremble. It’s surely the result of undergoing all the trials of late.
I try shaking some steadiness into them, but it’s no good. My psyche is probably so scarred it will never go away. The memories of all my recent adventures are permanently etched into my brain. I’ll need some serious counselling if I get out of this alive.
I pull off, leaving the battlefield to the dirty grey crows that have started flocking in. The filthy winged vermin will feast well today.
I fucking hope the infection is limited to being a human strain otherwise the whole world will be fucked. No point worrying about that now I suppose. It’s not as if I can do anything about it anyway. It’s best just to focus on my own agenda.
Drops of
rain begin to hit the windows as I take one final look behind me to where Flynn gave his life to ensure the continuity of mine. His is another soul that will be remembered in my prayers.
Thank you, Flynn.
3
I’ve been driving for well over an hour, and the sky has darkened from a mix of night time starting to fall and the rain laden clouds that incessantly barrage everywhere with freakishly large raindrops.
My view is becoming increasingly impaired as the wipers struggle to keep up with the rivers of water cascading down the windscreen.
I’m driving slower now because of the level of surface water on the road. The last thing I need is to run the risk of aquaplaning and crashing again. Also I’ve recently popped another pain pill and the resulting grogginess isn’t helping.
I’m feeling not only physically exhausted, but mentally jaded too. Despite knowing the general location of Emma’s home, the combination of the weather condition outside and my meek condition inside, means that the odds of finding it tonight are stacked overwhelmingly against me.
If I don’t make it there then where do I stay? I certainly can’t sleep in the jeep, as I’d be a sitting duck. There’s only one other place I know where I could go. It’s not too far away either. Unfortunately, it’s also the last place I would actually ever want to go... my old home.
This is a weighty decision to have to make, especially in my fragile state of mind. Seeing the place of my tortured childhood might just be enough to put me over the edge into a complete and utter mental breakdown. I really don’t see any other alternative though.
A nostalgic wave washes over me and with it all the pain and sadness; my parents, all the resentment, my uncle.
Shit, my uncle. I don’t even know if he’s dead or alive. I don’t care either way, but if he’s alive then that means I may have to face him.
I look over at my gun. One bullet left in the chamber. If I was to put a hole in his head as payback I’d probably never get caught. I have doubts about my capability to kill a living person. However, this isn’t any normal circumstance.
It won’t be easy, but the sensible decision is to go and check it out at least. Getting there won’t be a problem either, even in this torrential downpour. I still know these local roads like the back of my hand, despite the fact that I’ve avoided returning to this area for the last eight years.
Struggle (The Hibernia Strain) Page 3