Dead Days Zombie Apocalypse Series (Season 7)

by Ryan Casey

  She saw him lose his footing. He tumbled forward. She couldn’t see his face properly–it was too dark. But she knew from her past experiences that he wasn’t a good man.

  There was something very dark about him.

  She didn’t just have to get away from him.

  She had to kill him.

  She ran towards the end of the corridor. She knew she needed to deal with Kane, but more than that, she needed to check Jordanna, Riley and Kesha were okay. She ran as fast as she could down this corridor, as quickly as she could get away from Kane.

  She thought of Spud. The uncertainty she’d felt about him all along. She knew something was wrong. She should’ve trusted herself. She shouldn’t have trusted him.

  She made a final lunge towards the top of the stairs.

  Then she felt a hand wrap around her ankle.

  She fell, face-first, onto the floor. She smacked her nose and tasted blood almost immediately.

  But that didn’t matter right now. It didn’t matter at all.

  What mattered was getting to Kesha, making sure she was okay.

  “Jesus, girl. You’re more a handful than I thought.”

  Kane twirled her around onto her back. He pinned her down and pressed the machete to her neck.

  Chloë saw his face clearly now. She saw the lines on his forehead. The smile, unwavering, on his face, like he was really enjoying this.

  “Aren’t you going to formally introduce yourself, Chloë?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Woah, girl. You’ve got a bite to that attitude. I like it.”

  He scraped the blade against Chloë’s neck, nicking it just slightly at the throat.

  “Maybe we’ll keep hold of you. Maybe you can be Spud’s. His first little wife. I mean, you’re ugly as fuck, don’t get me wrong. But I can see the prettiness beneath that scarred face of yours.”

  Chloë heard the words. Words that should’ve been insulting, that should’ve had venom. But they didn’t hurt her. Not anymore. She knew what she was. She knew what she looked like. If anything, it made her stronger in this world.

  “Or maybe not,” Kane said.

  He pressed the sharp edge of the blade right against Chloë’s neck.

  “Maybe I’ll keep you for myself.”

  He went to slice, and Chloë lunged forward, into the blade, but also right into Kane’s face.

  She wrapped her teeth around his top lip and bit down. Hard.

  He nudged the blade further into her neck. That was a risk Chloë had to be prepared to take. She knew it might kill her. She knew it might finish her off.

  But she kept on biting down harder onto Kane’s lip and hoping for the best.

  He pulled away.

  Chloë used that opportunity to kick him, right where it hurt. Then she struggled out from underneath him, blood dribbling down her neck, all down the front of her body.

  She thought about running to the stairs. Instead, she went to the bathroom door.

  She had something to do.

  She rushed over to the side of the bathtub. Behind, she heard Kane get back to his feet.

  “I’m gonna kill you myself for that, you little cunt,” he shouted, panting as he raced towards Chloë.

  She stood over the murky water of the bathtub. She looked down, saw the kid floating there on the static body of his mother.

  She didn’t want to have to reach in there. Didn’t want to have to touch the kid.

  But she had to.

  She reached into the water and pulled the kid out of the bath.

  The first thing she noticed was just how loose his skin was. It literally fell away when she touched it, and so too did the grey, water-bloated flesh underneath.

  But the poor boy’s mouth kept on snapping together. His bloodshot eyes peered at Chloë, desperate for another meal.

  “I’m sorry about this,” Chloë said.

  And then she turned and faced Kane, the kid in her arms.

  Kane stood at the door, machete in his hand. His lip bled right down his front. He looked at Chloë with half madness, but half enjoyment. A look that unsettled Chloë.

  “I’m impressed, kid,” he said, brushing some of the blood from his mouth. “Really, I am. You have more guts than I expected. More than…”

  She saw something else in his eyes then. A longing. Like he wanted to forget what had happened and connect with her in some way.

  “Back the fuck off,” she said, holding the monster child out as it thrashed about in her hands. “Or I’ll throw this kid at your fucking chest.”

  “You’ve got a potty mouth. That’s one thing we’ll have to work on. One thing I’ll have to change about you. Now drop the boy and—”

  “Kane!”

  The voice came from downstairs. It wasn’t Riley’s voice. It wasn’t Jordanna’s voice.

  It was Spud’s voice.

  Kane looked distracted, momentarily. Distracted from Chloë. He glanced to his left, over at the direction of the staircase.

  Chloë stepped closer towards Kane, the kid in her hand.

  “You stay back,” Kane said, raising the machete.

  “It sounds like Spud needs some help down there,” Chloë said.

  Concern on Kane’s face. His cheeks blushed. He looked like he knew all of this was crumbling. Like all of it was falling apart. “Be quiet—”

  “You don’t know my people. You don’t know who you’ve let in.”

  “I know that I’ve killed more people than you’ve had cooked breakfasts.”

  “Really? You sure about that?”

  For a moment, Chloë thought she saw a look of concern on Kane’s face. Like he really wasn’t sure what he’d got himself into.

  He was starting to doubt what he’d let himself in for.

  “Kane!”

  “If if were you, I’d stand very still,” Kane said, walking into the room, right towards Chloë. “Don’t move a muscle.”

  Chloë smiled at Kane. “And if I were you, I’d make sure you can catch.”

  She moved to the right.

  Right as she spoke, she threw the monster kid at Kane.

  She saw it clutch around his neck. She saw it stretch its jaws around his flesh. She saw Kane fall back, blood dripping from his lips.

  And then she ran out of the room and towards the staircase, towards whatever awaited her downstairs.

  She knew there was bad news. She had a feeling. She just didn’t want to accept it.

  But she had to.

  She–

  She felt something grab her ankle again before she could make it to the top of the stairs.

  She felt herself fall, and this time, it sent a shooting pain ripping through her body.

  Kane turned Chloë over. In his hands, the monster kid just inches above Chloë’s face.

  “Now,” he said, dragging her into one of the rooms. “Where were we?”

  He pressed the monster child down onto Chloë’s neck.

  She felt its teeth press into her skin.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Cody felt the fever growing inside him as the group walked further towards the extraction point.

  The late afternoon sun beamed down on them all. It’d been a nice start to the day. It helped that they were walking down a scenic road too, with trees lining the streets, across long stretches of hills and valleys. The journey was mostly quiet. Mostly uneventful. But in spite of that, Cody still felt the tension in the air. The tension between the remaining group members.

  Mostly, the tension between Gav and everyone else.

  “Should’ve left him behind after what he did,” Matt said.

  Matt walked alongside Cody and Steve, who led the way. In all truth, Cody hadn’t spoken to Matt much in their time at the fort. He always got the impression Matt didn’t like him too much.

  But he’d stuck up for Cody. He’d agreed with Steve. He believed in their cause—the cause of helping Steve get to the extraction point.

  And he’d also agreed
to let Cody live despite the infection he knew was building in his body.

  Cody looked back at Gav. He saw him walking in the very middle of the group, everyone’s eyes on him. They’d taken his weapons away so he couldn’t do any harm. But in all honesty, Cody didn’t think he would be doing much harm as it was. He looked dejected. Like he’d totally lost the cause he’d fought for.

  “Somehow I think it’ll work out better if we keep him alive.”

  Matt nodded. “You really are one of these believers in the whole life thing, aren’t you?”

  “The ‘whole life thing’?”

  Matt smiled. “You know. Having faith in people. Believing in people. Trusting people. You really have that whole thing going on. What you trying to make up for?”

  Cody was intrigued by how Matt framed the question. He tightened his grip as searing pain stretched through his fingers, the tops of four of them severed by the teeth of the Uglies. “I’m not trying to make up for anything.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Matt said.

  “Why?”

  “’Cause we’re all trying to make up for something.”

  Cody looked back at Gav. Then he looked at the rest of the group, and then at Steve. “Even though I know I’m dying, I feel… I feel clearer than I ever have. Like I know there’s only one thing I can do, and that’s get as many people as I can to that extraction point.”

  “You don’t know you’re gonna die,” Matt said.

  “Hmm?”

  “The Uglies. They work… They work different to the normal infected. We’ve seen people survive their bites. Well, survive them for a while. Then go insane. Then turn into one of those things.”

  “So I will die.”

  “You might. Or maybe we’ll get to the extraction point and we’ll find someone who can cure what you’ve got going on. Who knows a thing in this mad world?”

  Cody didn’t allow a shred of hope to enter his body. He took a deep breath of the humid air, listened to the leaves brushing against one another in the breeze. “We’ll see.”

  “Hold up. Company coming.”

  Cody turned around. Behind him, behind the group, he saw undead. Eight of them.

  Six of them were the normal, slow kind.

  But two of them were the new ones. The ones with the fleshy heads.

  The Uglies.

  And they were running.

  “I could do with a weapon,” Gav said, as the group all pulled out weapons of their own, faced the oncoming infected.

  “You’ll be fine,” Cody said, clutching on to the crowbar he’d taken from Gav with his remaining good fingers. “We’ve got your back.”

  “Really expect me to trust you?”

  Cody smiled. “Why wouldn’t you?”

  They all formed around Gav and Steve, made a line to block the undead from breaking through. Cody didn’t feel fearful as the undead hurtled towards them. He didn’t feel worried or agitated.

  He felt capable.

  Capable of dealing with them.

  Capable of finishing them off.

  The first of the Uglies threw itself at Matt. Matt stepped backwards, then smashed the iron bar across the side of its bulbous head, knocking it to the ground. Matt stood over it, cracked the bar further and further into its head, across its limbs, determined to put this thing down once and for all.

  The second Ugly flew towards Cody. But when Cody lifted his crowbar and got ready to slam it through its skull, he saw the Ugly hesitate. He saw it stop, look at him like it wasn’t sure whether Cody was one of them or not.

  That’s when he knew. That’s when the true realisation dawned on him.

  He was infected.

  The Ugly didn’t know whether Cody was one of them or not.

  But the hesitation didn’t last for long.

  The Ugly bounced off its feet and landed square on Cody’s chest.

  Its six mouths snapped at Cody’s face. All of them moved towards him. He heard shouting, and when he looked to his right, he saw Mark—another of their group members—covered in blood, as a third Ugly, who’d appeared out of nowhere, ripped his throat away from his body. He gargled. Screamed. And Cody knew he wasn’t far from joining him.

  He lifted his crowbar. Pushed the sharp end into the Ugly’s stomach. All that did was make cool blood run down onto him. It didn’t stop the Ugly gripping hold of his arms and moving towards his neck. And he knew that if it got him anywhere like his neck, he’d die sooner. Much sooner. Maybe he’d make it with some gnawed-off fingers for a while. But a wound like a neck bite? He wasn’t escaping that.

  He pressed the crowbar up again, determined to do anything to get the Ugly away from him, eager to do anything to shift its weight from his body.

  Its teeth were just inches away now.

  Its many mouths all snapped in a deafening chorus.

  Cody waited. Braced himself. He heard screams around him. He knew it was over now. He knew he’d failed. He just hoped Steve made his way back with whoever remained of his people. He just hoped—

  The Ugly’s mouths spewed out rancid blood all over Cody’s face.

  He didn’t know what’d happened. Not at first. His eyes were filled with blood.

  But the Ugly’s weight shifted. Backed off. And as Cody wiped the blood from his eyes, he knew something had happened. Something positive.

  He pushed the Ugly away and wiped the last of the blood from his eyes.

  When he saw what’d happened, he couldn’t help feeling warmth inside.

  Gav stood over the Ugly. He had a heavy-looking log in his hands. He pressed down the sharp end into the Ugly’s head repeatedly. He kept on going, making sure it was properly burst, then knocked the teeth from the rest of the mouths on its body.

  Cody stood. He looked around. Mike was down, and he’d gone quiet, choked to death on his own blood. But everyone else stood. Matt. Steve. Everyone else was on their feet. Survivors.

  Cody looked back at Gav. Gav looked back at him.

  “Told you I wanted to be the one to kill you when the time comes,” Gav said. “Ain’t dying that fucking easily. Not on my watch.”

  Cody nodded at Gav. He felt a half-smile creep across his face. “I appreciate it.”

  Gav dropped the piece of wood to the ground. “Don’t think this means I’m buying into nut job’s bullshit. Quite the fucking opposite.”

  “You nearly beat me to death the last time we met. It’s progress.”

  Gav smirked. He chuckled a little as he looked Cody in the eye. “Progress. Yeah. I suppose it is. Real fucking...”

  Gav didn’t finish his sentence.

  Blood splattered out of his body.

  The sound of gunfire echoed through the landscape.

  Gav’s body convoluted. Blood spurted out of his mouth as more and more bullets fired into him, as more and more of them pierced through his body.

  When they eventually stopped, Gav didn’t even look like Gav anymore.

  His face was covered in blood. His guts dangled out of his body. He looked down at his intestines. He tried to scoop his insides back up, pitifully, hold them in the broken shell of his torso.

  “Gav!” Cody shouted.

  Gav looked in his direction as movement shuffled behind the trees. One of his eyes fell out of his skull, then another. He opened his mouth. Blood spurted out.

  “Fuck,” he spluttered. “Fucking—”

  And then Gav’s broken legs shattered from the impact of the bullets and he fell to the road.

  CHAPTER THREE

  When Riley heard the banging noises above, he opened his eyes immediately.

  It was dark. Pitch black. He was lying on a cold, dark floor. He’d completely lost track of where he was. He looked around. As his eyes adjusted, he saw he was in some kind of building; some kind of cabin. That calmed him, somewhat. He was just back at the cabin. Back at the cabin in the woods with Jordanna. He was safe here. They were both safe here. They were…

  No. It dawned on him
that this wasn’t the cabin he’d felt safe in all along. And he wasn’t just alone with Jordanna—the baby, Kesha, and Chloë, were with him too.

  Only Chloë wasn’t anywhere to be seen in this room.

  Neither was Kesha.

  And he could still hear banging upstairs.

  He heard the wind blowing heavily against the foundations of this log cabin. He rolled over. His head ached, and he could taste vomit clogging in his throat. Something had happened to him. Something had…

  Then he remembered.

  Spud. The boy who’d led them away from the masses of creatures at the motorway to this place. The boy who’d swore he was alone.

  The boy who Riley had been eager not to trust, only he had.

  He’d trusted him because he knew that’s what Jordanna wanted him to start doing. Damn, even Chloë wanted him to start trusting people.

  And he knew for a fact that he was going to have to trust some people if he wanted to keep Kesha safe.

  But something had happened. Something had gone wrong.

  “Jordanna,” Riley whispered. He reached over to her. Shook her to try and wake her, as much as he didn’t want to.

  Jordanna was fast asleep. She was out cold.

  Riley felt his skin crawling. The drink. The water Spud gave them when they got here. Could it have been spiked? Could the little shit have…

  More banging upstairs. Something like running around. Voices.

  Riley stood. He lunged towards the bottom of the staircase. Chloë was up there, as was Kesha. He had to get up there and he had to help them.

  But he didn’t get to the bottom of the stairs.

  He didn’t get there because Spud was standing there.

  And he was holding a machete to Kesha’s neck.

  Riley’s insides went completely cold. Half of him was angry, furious, and wanted to rip Spud’s head from his body.

  But the other half saw the fear in the boy’s eyes. He saw the uncertainty, as he looked back at Riley; the tears rolling down his cheeks.

  “Please,” Spud whimpered. “P-please. Just stay quiet. Or I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

  Everything froze around Riley as he looked into Spud’s eyes and at the sharp edge of the blade pressed right against poor little Kesha’s neck. How much did he tell Spud? What did he say?

  “You don’t want to do that.”