by Ryan Casey
Here it was, just waiting for his arrival.
He could smell it in the air.
He knew this was the place.
This was the only place.
He carried on walking. Walked down the side of the hill and past the Manchester sign towards the wall. Walked through the streets, across the empty city.
He knew there was safety here.
He knew there was something here for him.
He could feel it. He could always feel it.
And that absolutely terrified him.
Because of what he’d done in the past.
Of what he’d been forced to do.
But still, he walked.
Because it was all he could do.
Because he knew the truth.
And other people had to know the truth.
It was time for them to understand.
He had to make them understand, somehow.
He walked.
CHAPTER ONE
RILEY
Riley stared down at Mr Fletch and his army of Orions and wondered how the hell things had got so fucking shitty.
Inside the twenty cages, the Orions wriggled around. Clawed at the metal. Snapped their teeth against the bars. Riley could hear the sound of their nails working against the metal from here. Screeching, like something out of a nightmare.
Desperate to escape.
Desperate to wreak havoc on the Manchester Living Zone.
To kill every last one of them.
Behind him, Riley could still hear Alan choking away. He wasn’t dead yet. Still gasping. Struggling to breathe, a bullet wedged in his neck. But he could smell his sweat. Smell the faint hint of piss. Smell the fear. The fear and acknowledgement that his time was running out. That his life was hurtling towards its conclusion.
Just like everyone in the MLZ if Mr Fletch unleashed his Orion army.
Something Riley had to stop—something someone had to stop—no matter what.
“Jim Hall,” Mr Fletch said, holding the loudspeaker to his mouth. “Your ‘councillor,’ I believe. I need to speak to him. He’s an old friend of mine. And really, time is of the essence.”
The guards on the top of the wall didn’t say anything in return through the loudspeaker. Riley wondered how much they knew. About Jim Hall. The truth about his old acquaintance with this psychopath.
He wondered whether they knew just how dangerous the Orions were. Whether they realised that, right now, the wisest thing to do would just be to put a bullet through the heads of all of them.
Yes. That’s what they had to do. That’s what they absolutely had to do.
Snipers might be watching them. Pointing their guns at them.
But they needed to kill the Orions.
They needed to gun them down before they—
“I’m not playing around here,” Mr Fletch said. He turned. Pointed right up to the window Riley stood in. “There was a man up there with my old friend Riley Jameson. Alan Mixter, his name was. I say ‘was’ because one of my friends here just put him to rest.” He turned back to the guards on the wall. “We’ll put all of you to rest if you don’t comply. If you don’t bring me Jim Hall.”
Riley wanted to take Jim Hall to him. He wanted to drag the bruised, beaten fucker out of the gates and personally deliver him to Mr Fletch. They deserved each other.
But he knew Mr Fletch wouldn’t let him go lightly. He wasn’t a man to just let Riley and his friends walk away. Not after the chaos they’d caused at the BLZ. The people they’d killed.
“Lower your fucking guns and we’ll do what we can,” Alexi shouted through the loudspeaker.
Mr Fletch chuckled. “I’m sorry, but you’re hardly in a position to be dictating the sequence of events right now—”
“We’re in exactly the fuckin’ position to be dictatin’ the sequence of events,” Alexi shouted back. “Now lower your weapons. Jim Hall’s injured. You’ll have to come see him some other time. Preferably without an army of … of whatever they are.”
Mr Fletch glanced over his shoulder. Looked into the eyes of the Orion closest to him. “Oh, Mr Jameson hasn’t told you? How about Doctor Ottoman? Andy Wilmslow? Are they not still with you to keep you informed?”
He walked closer to the MLZ walls. Unarmed. Riley wished someone would just pop a fucking bullet in his skull. Finish him off. Get the job done with.
But on he walked.
“These creatures are what I like to call ‘Orions’. They’re very advanced, very intelligent, and that’s all because they’re directly evolved from humans—”
“Evolved or fucking experimented on?” another of the guards shouted back.
Mr Fletch turned. Looked at the guard next to Alexi. “There’s very little difference between evolution and experimentation. It just … depends on your perspective.”
He folded his hands together and walked closer to the wall.
“These particular Orions have been trained. The latest model. The greatest defence mechanism of all. A deterrent trained very, very well to respect us. To not harm us. Not attack us. That’s an advantage of them. They can be taught different things. Futuristic, sure, but so too are the walls you’re standing behind. The walls we’ve come from. Alas, I digress. These Orions know us. They won’t attack us. But I’m afraid I can’t say the same for you or anyone behind your walls.”
“Well it’s just a fucking good job they ain’t gettin’ anywhere near these walls,” Alexi shouted.
Riley watched the smile turn on Mr Fletch’s face. Saw the confidence brimming from cheek to cheek even from all this distance. “Right,” Mr Fletch said. “Right. If you say so. We’ll see how that works out.”
“Lower your weapons and turn around or—”
“I’m here because I want two things. I want to offer the good people of Manchester an opportunity, and I want to bring justice into the new world. I want to offer the people of the MLZ a chance to be the first of a new civilisation. An evolved civilisation. And I want to duly punish those who attempted to destroy this civilisation. Those who tried to purge an entire species. A species of advanced humans, nonetheless. I want to speak to Jim Hall, and I want Riley Jameson, Tamara Rutherford, and—”
“You’re not gettin’ a fuckin’ person behind this wall, baldie,” Alexi shouted, aiming her gun right at Mr Fletch’s head. “So I suggest you swivel with your band of monsters and you get the fuck out of here before we pop a cap through the skull of every one of you.”
Mr Fletch was silent. Everyone was silent. Even the Orions seemed to fall silent as they watched from behind the bars.
Then, Mr Fletch lifted the loudspeaker to his mouth once more.
Looked right up at Alexi. “I apologise for any inconvenience we’ve caused. Thanks for listening.”
He lowered the loudspeaker.
Clicked his fingers.
“No!” Riley shouted.
But he knew it’d fallen on deaf ears.
He knew he was too late.
He saw the missiles fire out of the tank.
Saw them hurtle towards the wall, leaving a trail of smoke behind.
Saw the bullets from the armoured vehicles fire at the top of the wall.
Fire at the guards.
Fire at Alexi.
Send her screaming, tumbling to her death.
He saw the smoke and listened to the bullets and watched the missiles smack into the wall. Watched the metal explode. Watched parts of the wall chip away, crumble, little holes forming in it where the missiles split it open.
But mostly, Riley watched the cages.
Watched Mr Fletch’s guards open them.
Watched the Orions step out.
And watched all twenty of them—all eight-foot high—hurtle towards the openings in the wall.
Mr Fletch just stood there and smiled as his perfect creations, his favourite children, rushed by.
CHAPTER TWO
TAMARA
Tamara knew the end was close when she saw the Or
ions approaching the hole in the wall.
She stood in the middle of Main Central Street just in front of the old pub. The place where she and Pedro used to go before … well, before all of this. Where she’d open up to him about Josh. Where Pedro helped her through every moment of the grieving process.
There was a hushed silence to the residents of the MLZ despite the explosions smacking against the wall, despite the gunfire from the guards above, the echoing shouts down the loudspeakers. The citizens of the place just looked at one another with disbelief. With a look that displayed a lack of understanding. A lack of acceptance of what was actually happening.
Mr Fletch was attacking the MLZ.
He was trying to get inside.
And his Orions were going to kill every last one of them.
“We need to go,” James said, grabbing Tamara’s arm and pulling her out of the road.
She pulled back. The smell of smoke split through the sour burning, the smell of burning infected. But Tamara was pretty sure she’d pick the rotting dead over this any day.
She’d pick the infected over Mr Fletch one hundred times out of ninety-nine.
“We can’t just let them—”
James pulled her again. “Haven’t gotta choice. Not anymore.”
“You’ve seen what they do. The Orions. You’ve—you’ve seen what those monsters are capable of.”
“And that’s why we need to get the hell somewhere safe. So if you know anywhere, now would be a friggin’ good time to tell me.”
Tamara looked back at the hole in the wall right at the end of the street. Looked at the thick grey smoke that covered it. That covered the Orions.
In the middle of it, she swore she saw bright lights.
Glowing bright lights glistening in the rain.
“We have to get out of here,” James shouted, catching the attention of the nine or ten MLZ residents gathered around. “All of us. We have to—”
It happened in an instant.
One second, nothing there. Nothing but the smoke. Nothing but the sound of gunfire hitting the top of the wall. Nothing.
The next second, an Orion was inside the walls.
Holding the head of a blonde woman in a white dress.
Sinking its teeth into her neck and ripping her throat away.
“We have to go!” James shouted.
The rest of the residents didn’t need telling.
Screams erupted. People ran left, ran right, ran in no real direction whatsoever as long as it was away, away from here, away from the Orion, away from danger.
Tamara and James ran too. They ran down Main Central Street. The sound of flesh splitting in two behind them. Of agonised cries. Of more bullets hitting the wall, more missiles weakening its sturdy foundations.
Of more Orion footsteps creeping inside.
“Where the hell we s’posed to—”
“Down here,” Tamara said, dragging James down an alleyway at the side of the pub. The walls were tall. The alley was narrow. Dark. So dark that Tamara instantly regretted it. If an Orion got down here, they’d have no chance. No place to hide. Screwed, both of them.
Or all three of them, considering a baby was growing inside Tamara.
“You fuckin’ sure you know where you’re going?” James asked, as they ran down the alleyway, no doors either side, windows too high to get hold of, to cling onto, to climb through.
“No,” Tamara said. “But it’s better being down here than it is being out there—”
A pain.
A burning pain right in her belly.
Like movement.
No. Like flesh tearing. Splitting.
Tamara stumbled forward. Fell onto her knees, cut and grazed them on the damp stones.
“Tamara? You okay?”
Tamara clutched her belly. She wasn’t sure whether to be elated or terrified. She’d experienced that feeling before. Experienced it a few years ago when Josh was inside of her. “I … I felt it.”
“Felt what?”
“My—my baby,” Tamara said.
James didn’t say anything in return. Not initially. He just crouched down. Put a hand on Tamara’s back. “Isn’t it way too early to … to be feelin’ stuff?”
James’ words echoed Tamara’s fears. She pressed her aching hands against the cobbled stones, tried to push herself up as rain tumbled down on her. It was too early. Way too early to be feeling movement.
“At the BLZ,” Tamara said, standing up, knees weak and wobbly, her head dizzy like she’d gone way too long without eating. “They … they did something. Something to my baby.”
She turned to James and saw the look of fear on his face. In his wide eyes.
“You sure you’re … you’re gonna be okay?”
Tamara forced a smile as gunshots echoed from the wall, as screams and cries and growls spiralled around like a hellish carnival of horrors. “I’ll have to be. Now let’s get to the doctor’s place. I know somewhere we can—”
The pain filled her body again. But it wasn’t like the kick of a baby. Sure, it started in her belly, but it spread right through every inch of her body, deep in her bones, sharp and burning. Like someone was scraping a knife against her skeleton, chipping away at it.
She fell to her knees again. Heart pounded. Sickness invaded her. She didn’t want to give in. She had to get to the doctor’s. Get to that room Chloë told her about. The safe room. The room where Doctor Wellingborough used to keep his infected.
All of them. The entire town. They had to get there.
Somehow, they had to get there.
James crouched down. Placed his hands on Tamara’s sides. “Easy now. I ain’t got much in the way of upper body strength but I’m gonna give liftin’ you a shot.”
Tamara nodded as James gently raised her. As his warm hands pressed into her body. “Thank—thank you,” she said.
“Don’t thank me yet. Might just tumble on me ass any second—”
“No. Not for—not for lifting me. But for being here for me. Thank you.”
She looked James in his eyes.
Felt warmth as he stared back at her.
Felt her heartbeat picking up again, and felt his pulse radiating through his palms and into her body.
She stared into his eyes and despite all the horrors around them, despite the death, the chaos, the destruction, she felt safe.
She didn’t feel safe when she heard a clicking guttural growl echo against the alleyway walls.
When she saw the dark shadow at the bottom of the alleyway.
When she saw the Orion standing there, licking its sharp teeth, looking right at them.
CHAPTER THREE
RILEY
Alan Mixter was still glugging blood when Riley returned to his apartment room.
He was lying back in his wheelchair. His face had gone completely pale. Take the blood away and he looked more like a waxwork model than an actual person. He dug his nails into his black trousers as blood trickled down his front, stained his white shirt.
He stared up at the ceiling with fear.
Fear, as explosions rocked the wall.
As screams sounded outside.
As Mr Fletch launched his attack.
Riley crouched opposite him. He knew he had to get out of here. Get away from here and help. Help fight for the MLZ. Help take down Fletch and somehow, take down his Orion army.
But Alan was a good man.
He was a good man who didn’t deserve to die alone.
He held Alan’s rigid hands, his fingers shaking.
“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing his thumbs against their hard exterior. “I—I’m here. I’m here for you. You aren’t alone.”
He listened to Alan choke on his blood. Watched his face get paler and wondered how fucking long a death could take. A bullet through the neck was sure to kill him eventually, especially without any kind of medical treatment. But it was that “eventually” that was the cruellest thing. A bullet to the head would’ve been
kinder in a way. Alan wouldn’t have known a thing. Wouldn’t have felt any pain, any suffering.
He’d’ve died instantly. Died in peace.
Gone into oblivion without any knowledge of his impending eternity of death.
Not like this.
Not like now.
Riley tightened his grip on Alan’s hands as the shouts got louder outside. As bullets peppered over the wall, fired down at Fletch’s army, and bullets fired back in return.
“I … You’ll be with your wife soon. Your … your Amy. She’s waiting for you.”
Alan’s gargling seemed to ease. His painful gasps became more rhythmic, like he was taking control, pacing himself, preparing for death.
“You’ll be with your Amy soon. Go on. Go—go see your Amy now.”
Alan’s fingers got looser.
His breathing slowed down completely.
The struggling stopped.
Riley looked up. Saw Alan staring up at the ceiling. Completely still. Eyes milky and glazed. Mouth—
Alan’s hands tensed.
He gripped Riley’s hands, hard.
Shook from side to side, gasped, gargled, spewed out blood.
Bloodshot eyes.
An agonised cry.
Undiluted fear.
And then it was over.
As quickly as it had started, it was over.
Alan was still again.
Covered in blood, but still.
Gripping hold of Riley’s hands, but still.
Only now his eyes were bloodshot.
Now, the fear had invaded them. The peacefulness of moments before had drifted away. The terror had returned.
But he was still.
He was with Amy now.
Riley moved his hands away gently. He laid Alan’s hands out on his lap, closed his flimsy eyelids. He wished he had time to stay. To clean him up. To wash the blood from his neck and his mouth.
But he heard the screams and smelled the hot smoke from the explosions drifting through the bay windows and he knew he had another mission on the agenda.
He stepped away from Alan. Walked over to the kitchen area. Scanned it for something, anything he could use as a weapon. He had to believe Alan would keep a weapon in his apartment. In case anything like this happened. He had to believe he’d shown the same level of paranoia and security as Riley had.