Dead Days [Season 11]
Page 10
Alison shook her head. And then she saw that look in Melissa’s eyes again. The look of a person conflicted. A person fighting. Battling.
Fighting, just like Alison felt she was.
And Alison wanted to do something.
She wanted to help.
She wanted to use Melissa’s consciousness to her advantage.
“Ricky,” Alison said.
Melissa’s eyes narrowed, then. “What?”
“Your—your partner, Ricky. Is this what he’d have wanted? Is this the way he’d have wanted to see you go?”
She saw a shift in Melissa’s expression. A turn.
Xanthe emerged from behind. Blood dripping down her chin. “Finish her off, Melissa. Finish her off, and make her one of us.”
And those words seemed to shift something in Melissa again. Seemed to turn her.
The battle for her own agency raging.
She moved in towards her neck. Moved in for a bite. And Alison saw the horror of what was about to unfold. She saw it, and she felt it, and she knew there was no fighting it.
She just had to try.
“If he’d known what you were going to become. If he knew that this was the kind of—of mother you were going to be. You really think he’d approve? You really think he’d just let this slide? Really?”
She stopped, again. Pulled back.
And this time, Alison saw the sadness in Melissa’s eyes.
Total sadness.
She saw it, and she knew she had her moment.
“I’m sorry, Melissa,” she said.
“Wh—”
And then she pulled the trigger and blasted Melissa’s arm into pieces.
She fell back. Turned. Listened as Melissa cried. And that was the hardest thing. These cries. They weren’t dead cries. They were the cries of a woman. A woman in pain.
She looked over her shoulder just once. Looked as she saw Melissa kneeling there in the road, in total agony.
And then she ran. Quicker than she thought she was capable of. With more energy than she thought she had.
She saw Xanthe start to run towards her.
But it was already too late for her.
Alison lunged off the side of the cliff.
Threw herself down towards the sea below.
Holding her breath.
Bracing for impact.
Squeezing her eyes shut and waiting for the—
Chapter Nine
If these flower-sprouting fuckers weren’t out to slaughter Riley and his companions, he might be able to appreciate just how damned beautiful they were.
But they were out to kill him. Which meant he couldn’t exactly stand around appreciating their beauty anymore. Not after his near miss earlier.
These monsters were closing in.
And they were closing in fast.
Riley stood with his back to Ted. Ted with his back to him. Peter Hillson kind of angling on by their side. All of them were silent. All of them holding their rifles. All of them knowing that this was only going to progress in one direction; only going to end in one outcome.
Either they stood and fought for their lives, or they saw themselves slaughtered.
Just the way it was in this world.
“So we just gonna stand here all day and gawk at these petulias or what?” Ted said.
Riley frowned. “Petulias?”
“You know. The flower.”
“They’re called petunias,” Riley said.
“I’m pretty sure you’re wrong about that, Riley.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I’m—”
“Gentlemen,” Peter interrupted. “With all due respect to the great flower debate. I’d appreciate it if we could focus on the fact we’re being surrounded right now.”
Riley sighed and nodded. “Suppose you have a point. Still petunias, though.”
“They aren’t—”
“The Main Building,” Riley interrupted, shutting Ted down before he could kick off again. “I’m guessing that’s out of reach right now.”
Peter pointed over to it. Looked like his temper was starting to flare up with every passing second. “I mean, does it look in bloody reach to you?”
Riley looked at the pathway down towards the church. He saw an array of colours filling his field of vision. Morphing colours as the creatures closed in. In a sense, he couldn’t wait to get back to Anna and tell her about all this batshit craziness they’d been living next door to for God knows how long.
But that would be making a rather brave assumption that he was getting out of this at all.
It wasn’t looking likely.
He looked all around. Looked for some gap in the defences of these creatures. Some route they could work through. There had to be. They couldn’t be totally surrounded. Not like this, totally out of nowhere.
“Well,” Ted said. “As much as I like flowers, I’m not too keen on becoming a display in the Chelsea Flower show next year. So I’ll probably do myself in before that happens. If that’s cool with you both.”
“It won’t have to come to that,” Riley said.
“I mean, it might—”
“No,” Riley said. “You… you haven’t spent all this time apart just to come back to die like this. You’re here now. So you’re staying here. By my side. Til the end.”
He looked at Ted, then. And he smiled.
And he saw Ted smile back at him, too.
“Good to know you aren’t gonna leave me behind this time, mate.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
Peter coughed. “Um, gents?”
Riley looked to where he was staring.
When he saw it, he felt his stomach sink.
A breakaway group of creatures had emerged from the main mass. They were charging towards them. Quicker. And stronger looking, too.
“I guess these ones didn’t win a prize or something,” Ted said.
Riley lifted his rifle and went to fire. “Whatever. Not here to wipe up their tears and it doesn’t look like we’ve got many more options.”
“What’re you suggesting?” Peter said.
“The only thing I can see as working right now. We fight through these bastards. Work our way over to those buildings over there.”
“And when we get to these buildings?”
“What?”
“When we get to them? You just expect them to be empty? You just expect them to be open?”
Riley turned to the oncoming crowd. Looked at the buildings beyond. “Better odds than just sitting around and waiting here. I know what I’d rather try.”
He saw the first of the creatures just inches away now. Covered in reds and purples and greens; in colours that he couldn’t even pinpoint.
He felt that draw once again. Felt it lulling him in like it had once already.
And then he took a sharp breath and pushed aside that urge to follow; that hypnotic draw to comply.
“I never liked plants anyway,” he said.
Then he pulled the trigger and went surging towards them.
He heard the crack of the rifles by his side. Heard them firing at the surrounding creatures. But he could only keep moving forward even though it felt like a tunnel was forming around him. He could only keep pressing on, even though he knew that his time was running out—and fast.
He pressed on and held that trigger and watched as the blood and the flowers and the screams radiated all around and—
A hand.
A hand on his arm.
Then, a softness.
That lull. That urge to give in to the pull of the virus. To give in to this world-defining virus. It was strong. Stronger than anything he’d felt. Like trying to stay awake, fighting sleep when you so desperately want nothing else.
He looked around, looked into the eyes of the creature with its hand on him.
That’s when he saw her.
Chloë.
He frowned. Tried to get his head around what he was looking at. Tried to understand.
/> Standing there.
Intact.
“Chloë?” he said.
She looked right at him, and she smiled.
And when she smiled, he saw the glistening lilacs between her teeth.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You made the right choices. You can join us now. There’s no stopping us. There’s—”
Then, out of nowhere, Riley felt something.
A blast.
A blast cutting through the creatures.
Sending him flying across the street.
He cracked his head against the road. Looked around, the taste of blood filling his mouth. Ears ringing. Heart racing. Hands sweating.
He tried to stand. Tried to find Peter. Ted. Because there’d been some kind of explosion.
Chloë.
The explosion.
Then—
He felt another hand grab him.
When he turned around, he half-expected to see Chloë looking down at him, once again.
But it wasn’t Chloë.
It was a woman.
And she was holding some kind of rifle.
“What—” Riley started.
But he didn’t finish.
The woman slammed the butt of that rifle against his forehead.
Everything went black.
Chapter Ten
Melissa saw the world differently now.
The colours. It was the colours that stood out most. The bright blue of the sky, sure. And the golden haze of the sun, absolutely, that was stunning too.
But it was the subtleties that she found herself really losing herself in. The clouds. She never realised just how multi-layered they were before now. The greys and the greens and the reds and the oranges. A full spectrum of light and colour, her senses now awakened to them.
But there was something else, too.
A fear.
A hunger.
A dread.
A starvation.
She knew how she had to feed it. She knew how she had to indulge.
But she didn’t want to.
Her human instincts stopped her from wanting to.
She looked at her arm as she kneeled there on the ground. She’d cried when Alison had fired that rifle at her. Screamed out. Because there had been something that resembled agony. Something that seemed painful to her.
But at the same time… no. There hadn’t been pain. More an idea of pain.
She had allowed herself to suffer because suffering was a habit. Suffering was ingrained. Suffering was the natural reaction to apparent pain.
But there was no pain.
Not a modicum.
She looked at what was left of her arm. The way it bled out. And instinctively, she thought that this was the end. There was no fixing what had happened to her. She was going to lose blood.
But then the wound on her neck…
The way Xanthe had torn flesh from her…
She reached for that with her right hand. Felt it. Saw the sheer amount of dark red blood that puddled out from it.
And the realisation began to grow.
She was dead.
She was a creature.
She was… no. Not dead. Alive.
More alive than she’d ever been.
She heard footsteps approaching. Looked up to her left and saw Xanthe.
There was a different look to Xanthe’s eyes than Melissa had seen before. A look of uncertainty. Of concern. The way she looked off towards the water where Alison had thrown herself. Where she’d disappeared—and didn’t seem to have surfaced from at that.
She looked like she was pondering something. Really considering something; mulling something over.
And Melissa had the same thoughts. The same feelings.
She just wasn’t sure she could fully understand them yet. Like another voice in her head knew more than her at a deep instinctive level.
A level that she could only peek behind… and wonder.
“We need to find her,” Xanthe said.
Her voice was clear. Her command couldn’t be clearer.
And when she spoke, Melissa felt like she was subservient to her.
To the woman who’d taken the life she once knew.
“My… my child,” Melissa said. Feeling that old self breaking through. Feeling the person she used to be splitting through the grit. Through the mud.
Xanthe looked at her. Glassy eyes. Frown. “What?”
“My baby,” Melissa said, holding her belly. “She… she’ll be okay. Won’t she? She’ll be okay?”
She realised then she’d said something. The sex of her baby. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she knew—and again, it was at this deeper level. This instinctive level.
Xanthe crouched by her side. Put a hand on her shoulder.
And Melissa felt warmth spread through the area where her left arm used to be. As if it was still there. Only more comfortable and more at ease than ever.
“She’ll be better than she ever was,” she said.
Then she stood up, turned to the helicopters, and she smiled.
Melissa stood. She joined Xanthe’s side. She looked at the island. Looked at the burning homes. Looked at the landscape, totally in ruin.
She looked at it all, and she could only ask one question. “What now?”
Xanthe turned to her. She smiled. “Now, we wait.”
“For what?”
And then Melissa felt it.
That understanding.
Without Xanthe even having to say a thing… that understanding.
“We wait,” Melissa said.
Xanthe nodded.
Then they stood, and they looked at the Main Building towering above the district, and they waited for the next step.
The greatest step of all.
Chapter Eleven
When Riley opened his eyes, he didn’t see flowers.
He just saw a woman perched over him, peering down into his eyes.
“Looks like someone’s awake,” she said.
When she spoke, it hurt a little. His head stung. He could taste blood, right at the back of his throat. When he coughed, thick, spewy saliva came out. He felt rough to say the least.
When he remembered this was the woman who’d slammed the butt of a rather hefty looking rifle against his forehead however long ago, he felt a whole lot rougher.
He tried to turn, left and then right. But then he realised he was tied up. Hands behind his back. Ties around his ankles, too. The room he was in. Some kind of cabin of sorts. Except there was no light in here. It smelled earthy. He could hear water dripping somewhere. Feel the damp with every breath.
“My… my friends,” Riley said, suddenly remembering Ted and Peter. “They—”
“Are okay,” the woman said.
There was an accent to her voice. Caribbean, almost. This whole room was lit by just a small candle, so he could barely see this woman properly. Just the glow of the flame flickering in her deep brown eyes.
Riley looked up at her. Then around this room. That’s when he realised it wasn’t a room at all. It wasn’t a cabin. It was somewhere underground.
“You should’ve known better than to come fooling around here. Especially if you’re from one of the other districts.”
Riley tried to sit a little more comfortably, but with these ties around his feet and wrists, it wasn’t easy. “So you know about the districts, then.”
“Of course I do,” the woman said. “We all do, don’t we? All sold a dream. All told everything’s going to be okay. Everything’s in order. Until you realise the people running these places don’t actually have your best interests at heart, and then… well. You’re not the one asking questions here. I am.”
She leaned forward, then. And out of nowhere, she pressed a knife to Riley’s forehead.
“So I’ll ask you nicely. What the hell are you doing here?”
Riley felt the press of her knife immediately. Pushing down against his skin, right against the bone of his skull.<
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He thought of those colourful, flowery creatures out there and wondered if maybe leaving his fate to them might’ve been the more preferable option after all.
And then he saw it.
The drawing on the wall.
The name.
“Rhubi,” Riley said.
Rhubi stopped, then. The pressure from her knife eased. She looked down at Riley, frowning. “What did you just say?”
“Rhubi,” Riley said. “We… It’s you. That’s who we came here for. That’s—”
A smack, then.
A smack, right across his face.
A hand tightening around his cheeks.
The knife at his temple now.
“Listen,” she said, leaning towards him, her breath sour and rancid. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know where you come from. And you come here saying that name. Tell me what you know or I’ll scalp you right here and throw you to the plants.”
From the way she pushed harder, Riley was willing to bet Rhubi wasn’t messing around.
“Peter Hillson,” Riley said. “The man with me. He—he runs another of the districts.”
Knife pressing harder.
“He—he’s been researching. Researching a cure to all of this. And he’s found a way. Me. A girl, Kesha. And… and you, Rhubi. You. That’s the trio. We… we can fix this whole world. We just have to go back to our district. We just have to go there and…”
He realised something else, then.
Rhubi.
She wasn’t pressing against his head anymore, sure.
But she was doing something else.
Something even more disconcerting, in some ways.
She was laughing.
He watched as she stood there. As she laughed. As she wiped tears from her eyes.
Then she looked back at Riley, and she shook her head. “You poor, poor fucker.”
Riley narrowed his eyes. He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand. “What… what do you mean?”
“You believe the people running these places?”
“I know there’s plenty of reason to doubt—”
“I came here with a promise of a new start. A new beginning. I came here with a son. With a husband. I… I bought into it. Let myself sink into the community even though I knew something was wrong. Even though I could feel it, right from day one. And then one day, I woke up to screams. Something was different. An experiment. An experiment gone wrong. And that’s when I realised. That’s when all of us realised. This place. This whole damned island. It’s just one big experiment.”