by RR Haywood
‘I won’t,’ she replies softly to three audible joking groans.
‘You can flirt,’ Clarence presses on with a serious face, ‘and…and you can flirt…and…’
‘And you can dance!’ Reginald adds with a shout.
‘Yes! You can dance,’ Clarence seizes the word, ‘you can flirt and dance and…but no kissing and none of the…’
‘No sexing,’ Reginald points his bottle at April.
‘No kissing and no sexing…okay,’ April nods.
‘Right my boys…get ready to move out…we have to find these women,’ Clarence roars.
‘Yes and I shall lead you!’ Reginald shouts with enthusiasm.
‘Mr Reggie shall lead us,’ Clarence repeats, ‘and we need music Reggie…and hang on…girls don’t like beer do they,’ his face falls as though a great sadness comes over him, ‘and we only have beer.’
‘There’s wine in the stores!’ Reginald shouts, ‘girls love wine…I read that too.’
‘Wonderful,’ Clarence immediately cheers up, ‘we are moving out…but we shall do so stealthily with stealth and cunning,’ he walks off, tripping over the first tent and crashing down with a shout. The lads roar with laughter as they blunder in trying to help him up. He’s so big he just pulls them down with him until they’re all rolling about drunkenly. Eventually, with shouted instructions from a very drunk Reginald, they get to their feet and move off into the darkness.
‘April…you coming?’ Cookey shouts. April looks at Marcy who nods while smiling broadly. April moves off to follow the sounds of singing and crashing as they trip and fall through the tents.
‘I’ll go with them Mr Howie,’ Dave gets up.
‘Okay mate…make sure they don’t do anything stupid.’
‘On it,’ he walks off holding his assault rifle. I turn back and look at Marcy, both of us grinning broadly.
‘They need to let off steam,’ I say quietly.
‘Sure,’ Marcy nods.
‘Everything they’ve been through, and Clarence was kind of in love with my sister…he saw Dave kill her, we all did.’ She takes a sharp intake of breath and grimaces, ‘so…they need the release.’
‘What about you?’ She asks with a worried expression.
‘Me?’
‘You saw it too, plus everything else…you should go with them ,’ she leans forward and smiles, ‘and those girls are very beautiful.’
‘Are they?’ I ask.
‘Very.’
‘Nah, not my thing,’ I shake my head. ‘Er…Lani won’t be with the girls will she?’
‘No, she won’t be,’ Marcy replies quickly, her expression changing quickly, ‘that must be hard for you too, losing Lani,’ she asks.
It should be but I still feel numb. Just numb and void, like none of it has hit home yet, ‘yeah,’ I nod and glance away. The only thing I feel is a deep sense of shame at being sat here drinking beer like this.
‘What’s wrong?’ She asks me.
‘Nothing,’ I reply quickly.
‘All the humour just went from your face, you get a dark look that comes over you…it’s…’ she stares at me, searching my face. I hold the gaze for a few seconds and feel myself becoming entranced again. I remember thinking of her when we were fighting, how the image of her got me into that state I needed. I remember the feel of her body when she held me, her warm breath on my ear.
‘Howie?’ She asks startled as I quickly stand up.
‘I need some air,’ I reply without thinking. I start walking off, heading towards the back of the fort, my rifle held in one hand.
I feel angry and wound up at myself. Angry that I’m thinking like this. For fuck’s sake, I saw my sister get killed. I saw Terri and Debbie get their throats cut out. Lani turned. And I’m thinking like this. Get a grip.
I still feel a sense of pleasure at hearing her running up behind me, a quickening of my heart. I stare into my soul and hate myself now more than ever.
‘Here,’ she comes to my side and hands me a fresh bottle of beer, ‘you need to release too.’
‘Beer isn’t the answer,’ I take the bottle all the same.
‘They don’t think that way,’ she remarks at the sounds of distant singing and shouts coming from the lads and Reginald.
We walk in silence, side by side. Both of us taking sips from our bottles. I look round at the tents, at the dying torch lights with flames that flicker ever smaller, the shadows growing deeper and longer.
‘Do you hate me?’ She asks softly after a long silence.
‘Yes,’ I snarl at her, my voice low and growling. She drops her head but keeps walking. We reach the end of the tents and walk across the rear of the fort, heading towards the rear gate. I fumble for a second with both my hands full.
‘Let me,’ she steps forward to pull the bolts back while I move out the way, avoiding looking at her and making sure there is distance between us.
She pushes the gate open and steps back, waiting for me to go first. I walk through and move down the narrow beach to stand at the water’s edge. The moon is high and bright, casting a silvery reflection on the smooth surface of the sea. Stars twinkle and glitter. No breeze, not even a flutter of wind. Just heat and quiet. Almost perfect quiet apart from the distant drunken roars of the lads drifting across the fort.
Standing in silence I feel my pockets for a smoke and curse when I realise they’ve been left on the table.
She glances over but doesn't say anything. I drop down onto the floor and put my bottle and gun down while I start unlacing my boots. She stands watching me.
I shrug them off and pull my trousers up then ease my hot feet down into the cooling water.
‘Looks nice,’ she comments, her voice low and quiet, ‘mind if I join you?’
‘Do what you want.’
She sits down and starts working on her own laces, pulling them out to tug the boots free of her feet. I glance down and see her slip her socks off to reveal long slender feet.
‘My jeans are too tight, I won’t be able to pull them up,’ she says. She tries anyway, tugging at the bottom of her jeans and trying to force the material up her calves. Grunting with effort she keeps going, tugging and pulling at them.
‘I don’t think it’ll work,’ I laugh at the sight, she glances up at me and smiles.
‘Sod it,’ she slides her feet over the edge and shuffles forward, plunging the bottom of her legs into the water and soaking the jeans, ‘oh that’s nice,’ she sighs.
We slip back into silence, just the tiny ripples of water as she moves her legs slowly back and forth.
‘I would have taken them off, but then you’d see the bite mark on my backside.’
‘Is that where he bit you?’
‘Yep, right on the arse.’
‘Must have hurt.’
‘It did, lots.’
‘What does…’
‘I’m sorry,’ she speaks over me. We look at each other awkwardly for speaking at the same time.
‘What were you saying?’ She asks.
‘No you first, what did you say?’
‘I said I’m sorry.’
‘What for?’ I ask her.
She shrugs and stares out at the water, ‘for everything, for all of this…I’m sorry it happened…’
‘Not your fault.’
‘Yes it was,’ she faces me, ‘I came after you just as much as Darren…you have no idea of the bad things we did, the torture and torment we gave out…the suffering we caused…and just so we could send them after you, so many lives just gone.’
‘What do you want Marcy? Want me to say it’s okay and all is forgiven? Because you can fuck off.’
‘No. I can never be forgiven for that. The others can be because they don’t know anything else, it’s not them doing it, it’s the infection inside them…but me, I could think and I still did it.’
‘Did you enjoy it?’
‘Yes,’ she nods, ‘I loved it…sorry if that hurts but I did, I loved the
power and the strength, I could see Darren failing and was learning all the time from him…but that was before.’
‘Yeah, before your grand epiphany.’
‘Sarcasm doesn't suit you,’ she replies sharply, ‘I can lie if it makes easier for you.’
I shrug back at her, ‘it is what it is.’
‘I killed men, women and children…I did it while they screamed and begged, I tore babies from their mothers arms and laughed while I did it…’
‘Stop,’ I growl.
‘But I did those things. You’ve killed, you’ve probably killed more than me, children too.’
‘It’s different, they weren’t conscious beings that felt pain, they had no awareness of the death or the suffering.’
I glance over and look at the side of her face. Thick tears stream down her cheeks and roll off her jaw, landing softly on her hands. She doesn't sniff or make any show of crying, but does so silently.
I feel a stupid urge to comfort her. To put my arm round her shoulders and say nice things.
‘Stop it,’ I snap instead.
‘Sorry,’ she whispers so softly, the tears come harder, falling faster. Her chest heaves as she fights to sob without noise. She turns her head away.
‘This part of the show?’
She doesn't answer but stays turned away, her body moving with the silent sobbing. Then it gets worse, much worse. She collapses on the ground, heaving as powerful weeping takes over. Still she stays as quiet as possible, just low murmurs and sniffs but I can see from the way she moves that she’s sobbing her heart out.
The urge comes back stronger. I stare at her form. After what she just said she deserves the pain, she should be shot for it. But right now she is also another person and one that has shown kindness and respect to us. She saved us from being killed. She removed our dead and sacrificed her own people so we would live. She fed us and made us feel safe.
For that, for what she’s done for the lads, I stretch my hand out and rest it on her leg. She flinches from the contact. I rub softly, feeling the warmth of her body through the material of her jeans.
‘Take it easy,’ I say softly.
‘I can’t ever take that away,’ her voice is muffled, ‘I’ll never be able to have not done those things.’
‘No you can’t,’ I reply, ‘nothing you ever do will take that away…and you deserve every minute of pain and agony you get, I hope you suffer for the rest of your life in untold misery…but if what you said in there is true then you have no choice but to hold it together.’
Long minutes go by. I keep rubbing her leg softly but not speaking. Eventually her hand reaches out and takes hold of mine. Again I feel that thrill as she touches me. A pleasurable tingle that flutters my heart. The weeping eases and slowly she sits back up. The position she’s in means I have to let go of her leg but I don’t want to. It’s the last thing I want to do.
But I do. I pull my hand away gently and instantly feel the loss of the contact.
‘Thank you,’ she sighs and rubs at her face, pulling the bottom of her t shirt up to dry the tears away. I catch a glimpse of her tanned stomach and again my heart starts beating harder. It isn’t flat or perfectly toned, but soft and gently undulating from being bent forward. She works for a few seconds, pressing the material of the t shirt into the corners of her eyes, the top rides up higher flashing the bottom edge of her bra. I stare for a second and make myself turn away. Fixing my eyes on the water.
‘You okay?’ I ask hoarsely.
‘Yeah, yeah fine now…I’m sorry.’
I feel stifled, trapped. I can’t be this close to her. The attraction is just too strong. Sweat breaks out on my head and trickles down my neck. The air feels charged and too hot.
‘Howie…are you okay?’ Her hands touches my back lightly, ‘you’re breathing really hard…’
‘I’m fine,’ all I can feel is the touch of her hand on my back. She rubs it for a second and leans in closer.
‘Don’t’ I growl.
‘What’s wrong?’ She asks, ‘you’re shaking…’
I take a deep breath and force myself to exhale slowly. It doesn't help. I try to fix my mind on everything that’s happened. On Lani, on Sarah…but that doesn't work either. She’s leaning against me now, her body pressed against the side of my arm. The heat from her radiates.
‘Howie,’ she says softly and drops her head down to look at me. I turn slowly and face her. My heart booms as I see her mouth gently opening. Her soft skin and dark hair that hangs down.
Her breath on my ear when she kissed me. Her arms that were wrapped round me. Her soft voice that took all the anger and rage away.
‘Don’t,’ she whispers.
‘What?’ I whisper back, staring into her eyes. A deep look of sadness steals over her.
‘Don’t kiss me,’ I realise how close I am, that I’m moving in to her without knowing what I’m doing. She closes her eyes but doesn't move.
‘Don’t Howie…please,’ she pleads softly, unable to move back, feeling the same urge I do. Her face moves in closer. My arm moves round to her back, feeling the press of her body.
‘I can’t stop thinking about you…when you held me…your voice in my ear…’
I feel her hand glide over my back, to my neck and into my hair. My own doing the same as it traces along her spine until my fingers brush against her hair then delve in to feel the nape of her neck. She shudders and exhales slowly.
Our faces meet. Cheek against cheek. We move slowly, rubbing so very slightly. Our bodies become entwined, arms wrapped round each other.
‘Tell me to stop…tell me to leave,’ I whisper.
‘I can’t…’
‘I’m sorry I hurt you…I should never have done that…’
‘It’s okay,’ she moves against me, our faces lifting and dropping as our skin touches. Mouths moving ever closer to each other.
‘When I put my thumb in your mouth…the feeling was like nothing I’ve ever known…’
‘I felt it.’
‘I wanted you to bite me…I wanted to be with you.’
‘I wanted to take you Howie, not for what I am but for me…I wanted you for me, to be a part of me so I could be a part of you.’
‘I want that now…’
‘I do, so much…Howie…I..I don’t know what this is…they fear you, we all fear you…there’s a power in you that’s so dangerous but so good.’
‘You are all I could think about, just you Marcy…every time I held you in my mind I became unstoppable…untouchable…and that feeling, oh that feeling of your mouth…’ My hand slides gently over her stomach, slowly higher over the contours of her breasts, my fingers feel her throat where I gripped her so hard, fingertips gliding up onto her chin. My hand splays out, my thumb finds her mouth, touching the corner of her lips.
‘I could never hurt you again Marcy.’
‘I’ll never let anything hurt you Howie…I’d die first…’ my thumb feels the soft movement of her lips and the moist heat of her breath.
‘The first second I saw you Howie, the world was spinning…the ground was heaving…I saw all the seasons flash by me…by us…cold winds and deep snow…day and night became the same…’
‘I felt that! I saw it… I saw the snow and felt the wind… then I was falling…’
‘But the bottom was never there…what is this? What is this Howie?’
‘I don’t know…I hate you with every part of me, I hate what you are, what you’ve done…but I want you, I need you…’ My thumb presses harder into her lips.
‘I need you, I want to be a part of you…love isn’t strong enough for what I feel Howie.’
The corners of our lips brush as my thumb presses harder. Her lips part, welcoming my thumb as it slides into the warmth, her tongue probes the end as I slowly draw it out.
Breathing harder and harder. The pain of denial rising as the temptation increases with every passing second.
Our lips hover, barely touching. M
y thumb so close to her teeth. Ready to be taken.
To be turned.
To be a part of her.
DAY THIRTEEN
It recognises Howie. It knows who this man is. So many hosts have been cut down because of this man. Tens of thousands were sent against him to stop his needless culling but they failed. Darren was allowed to retain intelligence and still he failed. Everything the infection has done to take Howie has failed.
All over the world the infection mutates, evolves, turns and changes. With every passing day it accelerates in its understanding of the human mind, body and ultimately the brain; the muscle that is so incredibly powerful. More so than any other life form ever known.
The capabilities of the human brain are staggering. This species are barely out of infant steps in terms of what they would progress too. But that would take thousands of years and the infection doesn't have thousands of years.
All it has is now. Time does not exist to the infection. Time is a thing used by mankind as a measuring gauge against the history of their race and a way to divide the day and night into zones. The infection understands what time is. From the collective intelligence taken from the hosts it understands the concept of time, and then discounts it.
All that is. All that has been. All that ever will be.
Is now.
The infection knows without conscious thought, that there are many potential hosts left. It also knows that of those left, very few are the same as Howie. Only a handful of the potential hosts have his ability, but those few cause untold damage to the survivability of the infection.
The other survivors flock to them. They gather round them and fight back with such passion. They die for those few; laying down their lives in great numbers just so those few can stay alive.
As with time, the infection understands the concept of sacrifice. It sacrifices uncountable numbers of hosts to keep progressing.
But what the infection does not know, is what makes those few so different. Despite the billions of lives it has taken, it has yet to take one that has the ability of Howie.
There are men and women who are faster and stronger than those special few. Intelligence is not the factor as host bodies with incredible high levels of intelligence have been taken, but they lack what Howie and his type have.