by Ryan Casey
But Chloë wasn’t allowed to be pretty, so it just sucked for anyone else who wanted to be.
Chloë dragged herself up again and turned around to the big metal door. She heard something dripping and she realised it was the woman’s blood from her chin.
She stumbled across the room. Staggered to the door.
She had to get out.
She was so close.
She was …
Three men appeared at the door. They were all wearing those light blue outfits that the black man who’d shot her on the motorway embankment was wearing.
They were all pointing guns at Chloë.
Their eyes widened when they saw Chloë. They looked at her like Chloë saw people look at the monsters. And that was cool, in a way. The scars and the blood and the woman with a bite in her neck. Chloë must’ve really looked like one of the monsters.
“Holy fuck,” one of the men with black hair and a bald patch said.
“Where’s Tiff—”
“Sorry, kiddo.”
The three men all pulled their triggers. Little needles peppered Chloë’s neck and the middle of her chest.
She tried to stagger away.
Tried to put one foot in front of the other, but she was just falling back, flopping back …
As she fell backwards, she felt the headache and the sore throat starting again.
But the blanket of warmth was surrounding her. Making her legs and arms and everything weak.
Her last thought was of that logo on the blue uniform. BLZ. Birmingham Living Zone.
Poor Riley.
She blacked out before she hit the floor.
CHAPTER THREE
Riley felt the teeth of the tar-skinned creature sink into his neck in slow motion.
He felt them pierce through his skin with no effort at all.
Felt them puncture his muscle, move towards his jugular or whatever major artery was around there.
He waited for the moment when the creature, with its turgid breath and crumbling skin, ripped his head from his neck.
He wasn’t ready to go yet, but there was nothing he could do about it.
He wasn’t ready to go.
He couldn’t go.
And then something weird happened.
The creature opened its mouth.
Backed away.
Climbed off Riley and left him there, blood spurting out and showering James as he sat, eyes wide, in the driver’s seat.
The creature stared down at Riley. There was something odd about its eyes. They looked distinctly human. More so than a run of the mill creature.
But then, there was nothing run-of-the-mill about this creature, with its long, blood-soaked incisors, its skin that looked like it’d been dipped in jet black treacle.
It stumbled back onto the dashboard. Sniffed at Riley, its slit nostrils twitching. It looked at James, who cowered in fear. And then it looked back at Riley again, like it was confused.
Only creatures couldn’t be confused.
Confusion meant consciousness. And these creatures were not conscious.
It backed away out of the hole it’d smashed in the windscreen. Climbed back down the front of the armoured vehicle, Riley’s blood dribbling down its chin. When it jumped down onto the concrete, it was only then that Riley realised the vehicle had stopped and was smoking. Looked like James had crashed it into the hard shoulder in fear.
Riley’s vision distorted. James was saying things to him as the creature backed away down the motorway, but Riley didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend them. The pain in his neck was kicking in. He could taste blood in the back of his throat. He’d been bitten. Again.
And by who-the-fuck knew what.
He was dead.
He was finished.
“… Need to get you out of here …” a voice said.
Riley looked around, sent even more pain through his neck. He realised it was James.
“Need to get out of this fucking vehicle.”
Riley looked down the motorway. He still felt clouded, like he hadn’t really just been bitten. He looked for the creature, but it was gone, nowhere in sight.
It’d bitten him.
Sliced through his skin.
Torn through his muscle.
And then it’d stopped. Backed away. Ran off.
That wasn’t the behaviour of a creature. This was something else entirely.
Riley could hear Tamara now. He saw her at the grating between the front and back of the vehicle. If her jaw dropped any lower, it’d be on the floor.
“I’m … I’m okay,” Riley said, as he unclipped his seatbelt.
And the truth was, he was. Sure, he was hurting like mad. Sure, he’d been bitten by a fucking monster. But he couldn’t taste blood anymore. He’d know if he was choking on his own blood. The creature hadn’t bitten deep enough. Something had stopped it.
“Grab the friggin’ cure bag,” James said, as he opened the driver’s door. “I’ll grab the friggin’ cure carrier.”
“Really,” Riley said, lifting his shaky right hand and holding the wound on his neck with his left. “I’m fine. Really.”
“Glad to hear that,” James said, “but that’s bullshit. You’re not fine. You’re … Oh fuck. Fucking ‘ell.”
He was looking up the motorway at something. Riley already had an idea of what it was from the reaction everyone had to seeing creatures every damned time they saw them.
He took a look in the wing mirror. Saw a mass of them approaching in their direction, heading down the motorway. They were all wandering, staggering. A few of them a little faster.
But there were no big-tooth monster ones.
And that was a consolation.
A shitty consolation, but a consolation nonetheless.
“We need to get the hell inside another vehicle,” James said. “Don’t care how much you lot want to dally around in here, I’m finding us a car. Riley, give us your hand.”
Riley’s head was spinning, aching. “I’m fi—”
“If you tell me you’re fine one more damned time, I’ll kill your bitten ass myself. Now grab my hand.”
Riley grabbed hold of James’ arm as the creatures got closer.
“Tamara—you got the bag?”
Tamara patted the rucksack on her back as James helped Riley out of the driver’s door.
“What about Jordanna?” Riley asked.
James sighed. Looked at the oncoming creatures and then at the smoking engine of the armoured vehicle. “We don’t have long, man. Either this engine’s gonna blow or those bastards are gonna get here. Take your pick.”
“I’m not leaving her behind to die,” Riley said.
He let go of James’ arm and stumbled to the door at the side of the armoured vehicle.
“Then good luck carrying her on your own with a bleeding frigging neck.”
“He’s not alone,” Tamara called. She leaned out of the armoured vehicle and threw the rucksack onto the road. “So are you really gonna make a wounded man and me carry Jordanna or are you gonna come give me a hand?”
James bit his lip. Shook his head. “Jesus Christ. Never met a group of people like you lot.”
“We’ll take that as a compliment,” Tamara said. “Riley, look for a vehicle. James, get a fucking move on and help me.”
Riley reached down and lifted the rucksack. He saw blood trickle from his stinging neck and onto the concrete. In the distance, he could hear the footsteps of the creatures getting closer.
But all he could think about was the monster that had bitten him.
The monster that had looked him in the eye.
Let him go.
He staggered across the concrete of the motorway, the warm spring sun blaring down on him. He could feel the blood from his bite wound trickling down his neck like liquid from a melting ice lolly as he scanned the surrounding abandoned cars. Behind him, he could hear the group of creatures approaching. The group didn’t have long. They wouldn’t mak
e it on foot. They had to get away.
He checked a black Renault Megane on his right, but the keys were gone and they didn’t have time to even attempt hot-wiring it—if any of them even knew how to hot-wire a frigging car in the first place, or whether that was just another myth too. He checked the next car—a white estate van. And then he found an overturned Yamaha motorbike in the middle of the road and had a momentary image of them all cramped onto it, Riley bleeding from his neck, Jordanna unconscious, riding out into the sunset.
He fast scrapped that idea and looked back at the armoured vehicle.
Tamara and James were lifting Jordanna’s limp body out of the side door of the smoking vehicle. Further behind, but not too far, the creatures battled around the abandoned cars. It was no point even attempting to shoot them. There were too many of them. And sure, he’d have a shot at them when they were in close quarters, but he didn’t have that luxury right now.
None of them did.
“Found anything?” Tamara asked, as she stumbled backwards out of the vehicle door carrying Jordanna’s top half, not once turning to look at the creatures.
Riley shook his head. Doing so sent more shooting pains through his neck. He had no fucking idea what he’d been bitten by or what it was going to do to him. Only that he was hurting. And he was losing blood, even if he was pretty certain he hadn’t ruptured an artery or anything.
A bite was a bite.
A chunk out of his neck was a chunk out of his neck.
Blood loss was blood loss.
“We have to find some damned car,” James said. He didn’t show the same level of resistance to looking at the creatures as Tamara. He looked right at them and his eyes widened as he saw them getting closer. “Oh shit. Oh shitting—”
Tamara slipped.
Tumbled down the final step beneath the door of the armoured vehicle.
An unconscious Jordanna landed on top of her, and James followed not long after.
It would’ve been quite a comical scene to observe if it wasn’t for the three creatures breaking free of the front of the pack, hobbling up the side of the armoured vehicle.
Riley tried to run but he couldn’t move fast without feeling dizzy. And the armoured vehicle. The smoke pouring out of the engine had turned black. He could smell burning in the air. The vehicle was going to blow.
“Just go,” Tamara said. She waved Riley off as the creatures gathered around them, James struggling from side to side, not finding any means of escape. “Just—just get to Birmingham. Go!”
Riley gripped hold of the rucksack. He watched as the first creature lowered itself over Tamara, who shot at it.
But then the second one came in from the other direction.
And then a third.
And then a fourth.
Shots fired from James and Tamara. But not enough shots. Nobody had enough shots.
Riley knew deep down he had to go. He had to get the rucksack of Dr Wellingborough’s research to Birmingham. He had to get himself to Birmingham alive with the cure inside him for further research before he turned and dropped dead himself.
But his friends.
He couldn’t leave any more friends behind.
He dropped the rucksack and lifted his gun.
He didn’t have to pull a single shot to get the creatures away from Tamara and James.
Something happened.
One second, the creatures were surrounding Tamara and James, and the next second, they were flying backwards, like they’d been hit by an explosion, loose arms and legs flying everywhere.
But the armoured vehicle hadn’t exploded. Tamara, James and Jordanna were still huddled together by the door of the vehicle, guns in Tamara and James’ hands.
There was a gap between them and Riley. Something had opened a gap.
Riley was about to shout for them to hurry and get over here when he saw exactly what had knocked the creatures back.
The sharp-toothed, soggy skinned, tar-covered monster that had bitten Riley’s neck.
It threw itself at the oncoming creatures with immense speed. It lashed out at them, ripped their heads from their necks and tossed them to one side, chewed on the faces of others.
The numbers of the mass of creatures were fast depleting.
This tar-skinned monster wasn’t even batting an eyelid at Riley, Tamara, James or Jordanna.
Tamara and James ran over to Riley while they had their chance. They stood at his side, silently, watching this beast tear the creatures apart with sheer hatred but sheer … procedure.
Like it was built to hunt creatures.
“I’ve … I’ve tried not to ask what the fuck that thing is for long enough now,” James mumbled.
And Riley stayed silent because he couldn’t answer. He didn’t know.
All he knew was that this monster had bitten him. Pulled away.
And now it was here butchering the mass of creatures like an assassin, leaving them splayed across the motorway like disposed trash.
“Whatever it is, it looks like we’ve got a guardian angel,” Tamara said.
James shook his head as the monster chomped through the skull of an armless male creature. “If there’s one thing that isn’t, it’s a fucking angel.”
Riley was about to agree when the engine of the armoured vehicle caught fire just thirty feet away.
CHAPTER FOUR
Chloë knew exactly what had happened to her when she woke for a second time.
The room with the metal beds. The nurse woman trying to stick a needle into her.
Biting the woman’s neck …
Then getting so close to running away …
And then—
“Are you awake?”
The voice made Chloë jump. It came from her right. She opened her eyes and looked over to where it came from.
The first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes was that she was in a different room. There weren’t other metal beds in this room. It was a smaller room. A room with a big mirror on the wall opposite her. Everything was so grey and metallic, like her food tech kitchen back at school.
Sat down on a stool at the side of the bed she lay on, there was a man.
He had a bald head and funny glasses that didn’t look like they had any sides. He was skinny, and had long, bony fingers crossed through one another. He hunched forward in a way that Mum used to always tell Chloë off for doing. Looked at Chloë through his glasses with grey eyes. He didn’t look like he’d smiled much in his life.
“Where …”
Chloë started to speak and move but then she realised her wrists were clamped down to the edges of the metal bed with cuffs. Her feet were stuck, too. And her throat. Her throat was so, so sore. She could taste that salty blood there still. The saltiness of her own blood after being shot at.
The saltiness of the lady nurse’s blood after she’d bitten a hole in her neck.
The man stood up from his chair. He was very tall and skinny. He wore a white lab coat that looked too baggy at the shoulders, and black trousers and black shoes. He stepped around the bottom of the bed, slowly, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I don’t want you to panic, first off,” he said. “The last thing I want you to do is panic—”
“Where the fuck is Tiffany?” Chloë spat.
The man swung around. His eyes narrowed. He cringed. It was then that Chloë saw the logo on his white coat. BLZ. Birmingham Living Zone. “Language, please. You got yourself in enough trouble back in B Ward as it is. You really don’t want to go getting yourself into any more trouble. That’s a promise.”
People didn’t scare Chloë easily these days. Not with all the horrible people she’d seen and come across. But there was something about the way this man looked at her when he said those words that scared her. Deep down, she felt like that girl at school again, who was afraid to put her hand up in class in fear of giving the wrong answer.
Something about this man made her feel like that scared little girl again.
; “Do you have a name?” he asked.
Chloë kept her mouth shut. She wanted to say something about the BLZ. About Riley coming here with the cure.
But that same something that scared her about this man made her want to keep that to herself for now. He didn’t seem like the sort of man who helped people.
He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “Children. I never do know how to speak to them properly, apparently. I’m Mr Fletch, if that helps.” He forced something that resembled a smile and lasted a brief moment.
Chloë just watched him as he stood at the foot of the metal bed. She didn’t say a word in reply.
“The second thing I want you to understand, besides not panicking, is that we aren’t here to hurt you. I know it’s confusing, being taken from the motorway in the manner we took you. But we have no intentions of putting you through any sort of pain. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
“Where’s Tiffany?” Chloë asked.
Mr Fletch’s eyes narrowed. Calling himself Mr Fletch just made him seem even more like a nasty teacher. “Tiffany? Who’s Tiffany?”
Chloë’s throat tightened up. “My friend. She … she was with me. When you took me.”
Mr Fletch didn’t smile in recognition or shake his head in lack of understanding.
He just watched, with those steely grey eyes that blended in with the metal background of the room.
“The third thing I want you to understand—”
“I’m in the BLZ. The Birmingham Living Zone. I know what it is. I—I was in the Manchester one. With friends. But—but something happened there. And Riley. He has a cure. He has—”
“Hold on,” Mr Fletch said. He raised a slender hand. “Slow down. You came from the Manchester Living Zone?”
Chloë nodded fast. She wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing. But she couldn’t think of what else to do. She didn’t trust Mr Fletch, but maybe if she told him she was from another Living Zone, he’d understand.
If he knew about the cure, he’d understand and let her and Tiffany go.
“Who’s in charge there?” he said.