by RR Haywood
The guards spin round and fire at the two men, the distraction proves to be their undoing as another inmate breaks from the crowd and takes another guard down. The confusion and fear grips the guards as they start backing away. Unable to react and too terrified to run.
Doctor James runs for the gun dropped by the first guard. He dives at the last second, grabbing the weapon by the stock and dragging it into him. He lifts it up and aims at the crowd. An undead, bright red blood dripping from his mouth, runs from the middle towards the doctor. He pulls the trigger, cursing when nothing happens. His fingers feel for the safety switch, fumbling in panic. Too late, he swings the gun out to batter the thing away. The blow goes unnoticed as Doctor James is grabbed and taken to the ground. He fights with fierce determination, kicking, bucking and punching as hard as he can. He screams as he feels the teeth sinking into his neck, feeling the rip of flesh as the mouth savages at him.
The thing jumps off and runs, aiming for another victim. Doctor James, clutching his neck, gets quickly to his feet and runs back towards the hospital… ‘LOCK IT DOWN…’ He screams, he repeats the words several times before the pain in his stomach pulls him down to the rough surface of the ground.
Roger Hastings yelps in panic at the immediate explosion all around him. Halfway to the visitors centre and in the thick of the crowds he freezes, rooted to the spot in blind terror. He starts to move, walking quickly, jogging then all out sprinting. Aiming for the visitors centre with a flash of an idea to get inside and lock the doors. A huge man steps in front of him. A big black man with a thick black beard. Roger runs straight into him, unable to swerve or stop. Randall absorbs the impact without a flinch. He wraps his arm round the former curator and holds him tight. Roger wails in terror as he feels his cheek being gouged by teeth. Randall turns and sends Roger spinning off to sprawl on the ground.
He gets quickly to his feet and starts running again. His hand pressed against the burning pain in his face and feeling the hot sticky blood pumping out. He almost makes it, getting just a few feet away from the entrance before, as with many others around him, the pain rips through his stomach and drops him to the ground.
The epicentre of the action spills out as the inmates grab anyone they can. Bite after bite is taken. Flesh ripped and torn, small wounds, big lacerations, arteries opened, faces torn away. The savagery of the attack grows as the inmates, led by Randall, become frenzied and insatiable.
Randall moves with a swiftness that belies his size. Powering over short distance to barrel into small clusters of terrified refugees. Using the strength in his enormous arms to grip and hold them still. He casts the bodies aside after each bite. Forcefully pushing them away so they have time to get up and run before the infection takes hold, running further into the crowds of desperate trapped survivors.
Sarah and Terri, drinking their hot coffee both run outside on hearing the fracas. Their faces drain of blood at the horror of the fort, at the violence discharging and spilling out.
‘Meredith,’ Sarah yells, she scans the area, frantically searching for the dog. She can hear it barking, the deep sound distinctive over the noise of the fighting.
‘We’ve got to get Meredith,’ Sarah starts running, heading for the slope as the last place she saw Chris and the dog.
Terri hesitates, frozen in fear at the sight. She sees the guards running into the centre and turns to head back inside the police office. She slams the door and rams the bolt home, backing away as the sounds from outside just get worse. A small grimy window to the outside is all she has to peer out, an ancient thing covered in filth and dust. She presses her face close to the small lead lined panes and watches with increasing panic as the guards fail to stop the mass fighting. People she knows, people she’d spoken to get taken down yards from the office. Bitten savagely and left to bleed. Those same bodies start twitching within minutes as the infection takes hold. Soon there are undead running freely within the fort, desperate battles and fights take place.
A child runs past the window screaming, being chased by an inmate. Terri feels the vomit rise as the girl is yanked back by her hair and quickly covered by the inmate as he descends to feast. She screams at the sight, an instinctive reaction that she snaps off as quickly as it comes out. The inmate looks up, fixing his red eyes on the window, fresh blood dripping from his mouth.
He slowly looks along the wall to the door and springs up, slamming his body against it. Terri cries out in fear and looks for an escape. The rooms are sealed, no other way in or out.
She backs away, going further into the room. The door bursts open with a splintering sound as the undead staggers inside, breathing hard with growling noises emanating from its throat.
Terri yells in fear and starts throwing anything she can get her hands on. Mugs, the gas hob, the saucepan, she grabs the hole punch and stapler and launches them at the thing. It advances without a flinch, the objects bouncing harmlessly of its body.
She turns to run into the back rooms, the thing chases, howling as it dives forward and grabs her ankle. She goes to the floor, frantically cycling her free leg to land blow after blow on the creatures face. It starts dragging her in, drawing her closer to the open mouth, lips pulled back and teeth already chomping.
Screaming she sits up and starts beating at it with everything she has. The grip loosens and she breaks free, the action causing her to jolt backwards. Scrabbling to her feet she turns to run but the thing is on her. Landing heavily on her back. She staggers forward, holding both their weight on her strong legs. Twisting and turning her head she runs backwards, slamming the thing into the wall.
Teeth bite down into the back of her neck. She roars with defiance and keeps ramming her body against the wall. She head-buts backwards, feeling the crunch of bone as the back of her skull breaks the nose of the man on her back. She does it again, harder and faster. The thing lets go and slides down. She spins, full of rage and kicks at his face. Forced over to the floor from the barrage of blows the things head rests against the wall as Terri aims kick after kick into the face. She pulverises it, driving the bones inwards to penetrate the brain. The thing dies long before she stops kicking.
‘Terri,’ she spins at the sound of her name being called to see Sergeant Hopewell running in.
‘I’m bit,’ Terri gasps, she reaches round to touch the back of her neck. She pulls her hand away and curses at the sight of the blood.
‘Oh Terri,’ Sergeant Hopewell stares at her young friend. She walks forward as Terri begins to sob, loud wracking sobs that send hot tears coursing from her eyes.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ Sergeant Hopewell reaches out and draws the girl in, holding her close.
‘Sarge…I’m bit…bit,’ Terri sobs harder, she grabs wraps her arms round Debbie.
‘Come on now, you’re going to be fine, it’s just a scratch not a bite.’
‘I felt him bite me…he fucking bit me…’
‘Oh Terri,’ Sergeant Hopewell holds the girl close, shaking her head as her heart breaks. Outside the noise grows worse, a multitude of screams, shouts, anger, hurt, pain and fury.
Terri’s legs give out causing Sergeant Hopewell to grab the girl and help lower her to the floor. The papers from the desks scattered all over the floor.
‘Urgh,’ Terri clutches at her stomach as the pain takes hold, ‘I don’t want to die…not like this…please…save me…save me…’ She grabs at Debbie’s arms, squeezing hard as the pain increases.
‘Terri…oh my…Oh Terri,’ Sergeant Hopewell strokes the girls head, brushing the hair from her face. Tears fall from her eyes to land on Terri’s head.
‘Don’t…kill me…don’t let me come back…’ Terri gasps.
‘I will,’ Sergeant Hopewell says softly.
‘Promise me…’
‘I promise, Oh Terri…listen, you’re going to a better place okay? A much better place, just close your eyes and breathe Terri, there’ll be light and warmth and all your friends will be there…all you
r family too…that’s it…breath Terri, just breathe and relax…it’s going to be so much better there…I’m so proud of you Terri, so very proud…close your eyes and know we all love you very much, so very much.’
She holds the girl, murmuring soft words and stroking her face with a soft hand as Terri slips away. As she feels the life leave her body, Debbie breaks down into hard sobs. She holds Terri close, willing this to be a nightmare, willing it to end. Steven, Tom and now Terri…all gone.
‘That’s touching as fuck,’ a deep American voice says quietly behind her. She stiffens at the sound, the sobs ending instantly.
‘Do it then,’ she snarls with fury.
‘Oh I will,’ Randall replies.
She braces, holding Terri tight as she waits for the pain. It comes quickly as Randall drops down and shoves his mouth against the back of her neck. She refuses to cry out from the pain, refuses to show that reaction but instead clenches her teeth and stares at the floor.
‘All done, you’ll be one of my motherfuckers very shortly,’ the American chuckles. He gets up and walks out. Leaving her alone with Terri. She feels the blood coursing round the side of her neck and dripping down her chest.
Gently she lowers Terri to the floor and gets up. Knowing she has but a minute or two. She looks round, searching for anything she can find to fulfil the promise she made.
Checking drawers and desks she finds nothing that would help or do the job quickly. She checks the side of the office, where the gas boiler was and the small collection of tea things. One old thin bladed bread knife with a serrated edge. She grips the handle and stares at the thing. A promise is a promise.
‘Forgive me,’ she whispers as she drops down to Terri’s side. She holds the knife in both hands and rests the edge against Terri’s exposed neck. Breathing harder and harder she forces the courage into her arms. Squeezing her eyes closed she takes a breath, pain explodes in her stomach as the first convulsion fires through Terri. Debbie keels to one side, gasping and clutching her stomach. Gritting her teeth she picks the knife up and with shaking hands presses the blade to Terri’s throat.
An electric current courses through Terri, bucking her upper body and knocking the knife aside. Debbie fights the pain and flounders for the knife, crying hot tears as she desperately tries to pick it up.
Sobbing and in agony she starts to lose her vision. Crying out loud she begs for another minute to fulfil the promise. She collapses forward, landing on Terri. The knife clasped weakly in her hand. As she starts to slip under she feels Terri body moving. The oxygen supply to Debbie’s brain starts to slow. Feeling Terri move underneath her she believes Terri to be recovering. She smiles in happiness, she was wrong. Terri wasn’t dying, she was just passed out.
As one pair of red bloodshot eyes open, another pair of human eyes close for the last time. One dies and one comes back.
Sarah races through the fort. The knife that Clarence gave her already drawn and held in one hand. She swerves and twists through the fighting bodies. Someone lunges at her, she slashes out with the blade, scoring across the face and not waiting to see the result but runs on.
All around her the survivors are being taken down. Faces with horrific injuries everywhere, just like the start of the event. She purses her lips and runs faster.
Something slams into from the side. She goes down in a tangle of arms and legs, the wind knocked out of her. Without conscious thought she drives the end of the knife into the body of whatever is on top of her. Plunging the point in again and again. Stabbing with ruthless determination as she writhes and lashes out.
She twists violently and clambers on top of the body. An adult woman with wild red eyes and blood stains on her teeth. Sarah stabs down, sticking the blade deep into the neck. She gets up and staggers back, the knife held out in front of her.
The melee is pressing in closer, shutting down her view of the far sides. Just bodies fighting and dying. She starts off towards the front of the fort, pushing and kicking at people to move out of the way.
A hand grabs her ponytail and pulls her backwards, lifting her off her feet. Screaming she crashes down and looks up to see the face bearing down at her. She stabs upwards, driving the point of the knife deep into an eye socket. Blood and gore burst out coating her face. She rolls away, holding her breath and keeping her mouth closed until she’s wiped the filth away.
Up again and she charges through the crowd. Hands reach out to grab her, she ducks and twists, lashing out with the knife and slowly getting through.
‘Sarah!’ A voice screams her name, she turns to see the young lad from the gate. The one Terri uses as a runner, he stands there looking terrified and flinching as two burly men fall down in front of him, fighting viciously.
She runs and grabs his wrist, pulling him along behind her, ‘where’s Chris?’ She shouts.
‘I don’t know,’ the boy wails. Sarah feels the tug as an undead grabs at the boy and tries to pull him back. She spins round and lunges in, sticking the knife through the throat and hacking away to ruin the flesh. Arterial blood sprays out as the body falls. She pulls the boy behind her, once more fighting her way through the erupting crowds.
‘There,’ the boy shouts, she turns to see him pointing at top of the wall with the dog at his side.
Sarah sizes the distance up, the thick crowds of people fighting and attacking each other. With a yell she yanks the boy and charges in. Forcing her way through, stabbing and slashing everything that gets in her way. She stumbles and trips, the boy helps her up. They press on, slashing through until they break free on the other side.
A sharp pain flares in her left leg, she glances down to see an undead savaging her calf. Stabbing down she ends the thing and pulls the boy into her.
‘Go to Chris…go now,’ she pushes him away. He falters, unsure of why she’s staying.
‘GO NOW,’ she screams, the veins in her neck bulging from the force of her voice. He backs away, turning to run.
An undead lunges for the boy, Sarah darts forward and takes the thing down. Stabbing again and again into the chest. She jumps up and turns her back to the slope. Staring the crowd down. Daring any of them to try and stop the boy. Howie’s blood courses through her veins, that same blood that turns her into a warrior for the two minutes of life she has left.
She ignores the pain in her leg as she attacks again and again. She holds the base of the slope with her life. Stabbing and cutting anything that comes near it.
The pain grips her stomach. She growls harder and ignores it. Charging at another undead as it lurches towards her. She stabs forward, the pain exploding inside her and sending her bodily into the undead. They both go down. Sarah on top and hacking away. Crying in agony as she refuses to yield to the pain. Another set of legs stride past her, she twists and grabs an ankle, bringing the body to the floor. She pulls herself over and stabs the knife down.
As blackness descends she stabs again and again and roars with utter defiance. She screams her brother’s name. She screams Howie again and again, as though her voice will carry to wherever he is.
The thrusts of the knife grow weaker, her body shaking with pain. The agony simply too much to take and she sags down, breathing short and shallow gulps of air.
‘Howie,’ she whispers, her heart beats one final time. Sarah, sister of Howie, dies at the foot of the slope, her life given to save the boy.
Chris stares down at the dog as she barks, her hackles up and ears pricked. She tenses, every muscle in her body straining as she stares into the fort. He follows her gaze, trying to see what she’s barking at.
There, in the middle, a big black man with a thick beard stands tall and screams ‘NOW’. Carnage erupts as screams sound out from all directions. Chris watches as all over the tent area, people are taken down and bitten. The big man in the middle grabbing at body after body, biting and throwing them aside like litter.
His professional eye takes it in. Several of them have got inside and are now launching an att
ack from deep within the living area. Everywhere he looks people are being savaged and taken down.
It’ll spread. That’s it. The fort is lost. He watches as the guards run in, feeling a tremor of hope as he wills them to start firing. They don’t. They hesitate and ruin the only chance they had.
The GPMG…it’s been fixed to the top of the wall. He turns and drags the dog away, heading back up the slope with her. She pulls and yanks at her lead for a few seconds, desperate to be released to charge in and kill the things.
He shouts at her and pulls her roughly back. She concedes and goes with him, sensing his fear. He runs up the slope, and onto the top. With a heightened view he can see how much the violence has spread already.
‘What do we do?’ One of the guards posted as a lookout on the wall shouts as Chris runs past him.
‘Fucking pray,’ Chris shouts back. He runs on, skirting the edge as he aims for the position of the machine gun. Just turn it round and fire into the crowd. No matter what happens, the dog must survive. If that means killing every living thing within here then so be it.
He stops aghast at the sight of metal fixings stacked at the agreed position. None of it assembled and no sign of the machine gun. He casts around, thinking it surely must be here. He runs on thinking they’ve put it somewhere else and not told him. No, it’s not here. Instinct tells him exactly what’s happened and he vows that if he gets through this he will personally put a bullet through Debbie Hopewell’s head.
He turns quickly, his eyes sweeping the vista of the flatlands and spotting a small group of people coming down the central road.