I Dream of Zombies (Book 2): Haven

by Vickie Johnstone

  “Not that lonely.”

  He ignored her. “I’m not going to force you to do anything. Where would the fun be in that? Think about it. If you want to leave here you only have to say yes.”

  She gaped at him in disgust. “Over my dead body!”

  He laughed.

  “But then you seem to like that kind of thing,” she added.

  Jakob glared at her for a second before striding out of the cell. The metal slammed behind him.

  Alone again, Marla sank down on the mattress. It finally dawned on her that they might never let her out at all. She had assumed they would question her and release her, or transfer her to another facility at worst, but allow her some contact with her sister.

  Tommy. What must he be thinking? He warned her, but she didn’t pay any attention as usual.

  Surely he and Ellen would go to Caballero and demand to know her whereabouts? They would ask. He would demand an answer. But they would lie to him, she realised. Tommy would never know. They could tell him and her sister anything they wanted. She was powerless.

  Marla rested her head on her knees. There was no one at all who could help her now. No one, except Jakob. He still wanted her and she could use this need of his as a bargaining tool. But if she relented to what he wanted would he keep his word? The thought revolted her. She drew her knees up against her chest and considered it for an endless time. Finally, she lay down on her stomach facing the door.

  Ellen, Tommy, I’m sorry. I screwed up. If only she hadn’t taken Jakob’s security card. What a stupid, stupid idea. Why was she so stubborn, impatient and reckless? The events in the library would have scared off any normal person. But I’m not normal, obviously.

  Gazing down at the marked and dented concrete, she watched a black spider scuttle towards the exit. There’s really no way out, she thought, as it paused halfway.

  Friday, 16

  “This is it,” said one of the men as the rumble of the engine died.

  “But this ain’t Salisbury,” the other one pointed out.

  “There’s no way I’m driving there. It’s overrun, man. The last patrol there turned back. Why should we take any risks?”

  “But we have orders…”

  “Who is going to know? You tell me. She won’t last a minute.”

  The other man didn’t answer again. Marla heard the clink of keys and smelt cigarette smoke.

  “This is where you get out. Guess you’ll be getting out right now.”

  The tape ripped across her mouth, stinging, and she gasped the air into her lungs. “What are you going to do?” she asked, trying to calm her erratic breathing.

  “Me?” asked the man with a gruff edge to his voice. “Nothing, unfortunately. I have orders to leave you here at this time, so that’s what we’re going to do.”

  “Where am I?”

  “You’ll see soon enough and the sun will be going down soon, so I don’t fancy your chances. Shame,” he spat.

  Marla sucked in a breath. “So, tell me where I am, please.”

  “Amesbury,” another man cut in. “Population 9,000, so you’ve got a good few thousand rotting corpses to look out for here.” He chuckled.

  Marla swallowed, not recognising either voice. “You’re dumping me here? Why?”

  “Apparently you’ve been sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, but someone has a soft spot for you, because I’m allowed to give you your gun and your knife. Guess that way you’ll last longer than five minutes.”

  “But don’t even think of coming back to the facility. You’re on the wanted list and not in a good way,” added the other guy, laughing loudly at his own joke. “You wanna do the honours, mate?”

  As Marla moved her head around blindly, she felt herself being dragged along in a sitting position. The cords around her hands were released and she grasped her fingers together in front of her. A door opened and a cool breeze slapped her cheeks. She inhaled the fresh air and stumbled forwards as her feet hit the ground. Arms caught her and steadied her. Luckily, her ankle held. Shuffling her feet, she raised her arms to feel for the blindfold.

  “Wait!” the man instructed. “Don’t take it off until you hear us go, or I’ll shoot you where you stand. And think yourself damn lucky we didn’t harm you.”

  She flinched and did as she was told, her heart thumping in her chest. If night was coming, they might as well kill her now, but clearly, someone thought it amusing to dump her here, helpless and alone. It wouldn’t surprise her if Jakob and Acre were watching from somewhere, simply to see how long she lasted. Behind her, an engine roared into life and she listened as the tyres sped away. Once the sound had faded away, she pushed the blindfold over her head. It dropped to the ground.

  Marla blinked against the dying sun. At her feet lay her trusted Glock and knife in its sheath. With a sigh, she bent down and picked them up, placing the knife in her pocket. Turning the gun over in her hand, she checked the magazine. It was full. Seventeen chances and that was it. More than a cat’s nine lives. Her watch said 8 p.m., so she had less than an hour to find somewhere safe. Not long.

  Sighing again, she looked around the empty street. How had she got herself into this mess? Would she ever see Ellen and Tommy again? She knew the answer and stripped it from her mind. Gripping the gun, she hastened away and turned the corner. Porton Road. The name rang a bell and she remembered it from the only other time she’d been here. If she remembered correctly that was.

  Quickening her pace, Marla glanced to either side of her. To the left there was nothing but empty concrete – clear as day – but to the right was a thick mass of trees. She kept her eyes peeled and headed on swiftly until she reached a roundabout. Remembering the way from previously, she turned right on to London Road. The endless green continued on her right-hand side while a car park opened up on the other. Vehicles were parked neatly in their designated spaces, seemingly incongruous under the circumstances, but they had clearly been abandoned. She wondered what the huge buildings were, but made haste, maintaining her alertness while the blood roared in her ears. In a way she dared not breathe, but the lump in her throat was a constant reminder of the fear that threatened to break out and render her weak.

  Stopping for a moment, she turned and surveyed the rows of cars. One idea would be to take one and drive somewhere else. She wondered if there was time enough to do that or whether it made more sense to find somewhere safe for the night and then plan what to do in the morning. She peered up at the sky, as if it held the answer, and then stared up and down the road. It was too silent; unnerving. Every shadow seemed to swim across her vision. It appeared safe, but she knew otherwise; nowhere offered that advantage any more.

  Gripping her gun, she stepped over the small, concrete wall and approached the cars slowly. Ahead something moved and she froze. Holding her breath, she listened, hearing nothing. False alarm. Marla took a few more strides and then turned towards the nearest cars: a Skoda, a BMW, a battered-looking Beetle and a Ford. Peering into the windows of the latter, she pulled on the door handle, but it didn’t budge. Next she tried the Beetle – same story. She headed on to the BMW, hoping against hope, and then it moved again; something at the edge of her vision. Turning, she raised her gun and took a step backwards, listening. As she stared, eyes wide and heart racing, they appeared; three of them, once human and now almost skeletal. The skin on their faces had long gone and the muscle looked to have been worn away. The skulls beneath peered back at her through dark pits for eyes.

  Marla turned and ran. Knowing they would follow, she did not stop until she was past the car park and alongside the next building. Its wall, long and continuous with nowhere to hide, gave her an opportunity to catch her breath, resting her hands on her knees. She could have sworn there were shadows among the trees, but perhaps she was seeing things.

  Straightening up, she pushed up the sleeves of her black, hooded top and walked briskly onwards, focused on finding somewhere safe. Out of the corner of her eye something shi
fted, but she ignored it and pushed on. Whatever it was chose to stay beyond the tree line. She wondered if it could be as afraid of her as she was of it, but then she remembered they were devoid of emotion.

  Crossing the road that turned down to the left, Marla headed straight and spotted a signpost for the supermarket where Caballero had placed a poster on the way to the church that day. Cursing him beneath her breath, she observed the industrial estate and car park to the right. It looked vacant and once again there were many vehicles, but she would need something to use to break into them if they were all locked. With a grimace, she wished Tommy was there to open one and hotwire it. How she wished she’d asked him to show her how to do it, instead of goading him for his choice of life skills.

  A couple of homes sat on their own to the left, their gardens neat with fragrant rose bushes. Even in the dimming light, they looked beautiful, Marla thought wistfully. Another industrial estate and car park loomed ahead, this time on her side of the road. Reaching a bus stop, she paused for a second to scrutinise the map inside the metal shelter. Come morning, if she made it, she intended to come back and unscrew the frame with her knife and take it out, so at least she would be able to find her way around town.

  Eyeing the houses, Marla weighed her options. Go in or not? What will I find inside? She sucked in a breath and steadied herself. Darkness would arrive soon and she was running out of time. There were the industrial buildings, basically warehouses, or there were homes. The warehouses had the advantage of being bigger, but the houses offered a smaller space to check, locks on the doors and windows, and curtains to hide behind. But then her scent… she would have to conceal it somehow. Nine thousand people. She shivered despite herself.

  The murmur made her jump and she did a full turn to survey the street. A line of grey blurred in the distance. It was moving. Although she could not make out their details, they were already too close. Turning, she ran past the two houses and across Holders Road, towards the industrial building. Where to stop, where to stop? She couldn’t keep running, but there was no one to cover her. She was alone. There was no one. No one! And soon… No, if it came to that, she would shoot herself. There was no question of it. She was prepared to do it, if it came down to it, to never become one of those… One of what, Marla? They’re like you – they’re all like you. Shaking her head, she kept running until the warehouse was behind her and a mass of dead-lookers blocked the road ahead.

  Marla stopped with a jolt and panted for breath. This is it! Fuck! There was nowhere to go, and the bastards knew it when they dropped her here. There was simply not enough time to find somewhere safe. There was no time. It had already run out when they drove away. All around her, on both sides sat houses, their dark windows staring out like forbidding eyes and every door sealed shut, concealing who knew what, but she had to choose one. Sandwiched in the middle of the dead, she had to choose.

  Marla raised her gun and stepped backwards. She peered over her shoulder, only to learn what she already knew: the walking corpses in front were closer than the ones to the rear. To get to the nearest side road, she would have to run forwards, straight into them, and she only had seventeen shots. Seventeen lives; better than a cat. The dead drifted closer as she considered her options and time seeped once more, sinking like sand into the cracks in the road, weighed down by the sky that appeared to be sinking lower towards her skull. Her instinct was to scream in hopelessness, anger and frustration, but it would be to no avail and bring the grisly horde upon her.

  The mindless groan carried towards her through the otherwise silent air. They knew. They had already smelt her before she saw them and now she was visible. Marla could almost sense their elation, their appetite, their need for her as she stepped backwards. The only escape route she could fathom was the warehouse. Drawing a deep breath, she dipped her head and sprinted down the side of the building, hoping her ankle would hold. Skidding to a halt by a black-painted door, she hopped slightly on her other foot and turned the handle, but it did not budge. Almost crying out, she tugged on it again and again, but it was useless. Resisting the urge to kick it, she blinked back the wave of panic and ran on further, towards the place where the wall ended. She turned the corner and ran straight into him.

  He raised his head and his mouth seemed to shift into a grin, except he could not have smiled, so bereft of any emotion, as he was. The blood congealed in a lump across half of his face was swarming with flies, eating away at it, laying their eggs in the dead life. Marla stepped back, almost tripping. She stuck out her left hand against the safety of the wall to balance. The creature groaned and she turned around, only to bang into something solid that lived without breathing, the maggots writhing right in front of her face.

  Marla swallowed to stop from screaming. Ducking, she raised her gun and fired at the second dead-looker. Blood and brains splurted over the top of her head, soaking her hair and streaming down her face. Arms pawed at her back, seeking to rip the flesh from her bones. Spinning around, she fired again. Nausea swept through her as the creature collapsed on to the pavement, its head an inhuman mess. Feeling her way along the wall, Marla peered around the corner. They had come.

  The car park yawned wide open behind the building and she raced across it, her breath coming in quick bursts. So many vehicles, but no time. Her choice would have to be a house. She would just have to go into one. Try the doors until one opened. Fifteen chances left and then her knife, and then… Swallowing, she kept on running, not the least bit curious to look back. She knew what was coming, sensed them, felt them. Insatiable and relentless; always, they would be there.

  A movement caught her eye and she paused. It was ahead, yet going back was out of the question. Shit! She stopped. The horde was here. They filled all the space she could see on the other side of the building. There was no time. None. She was out of time. Whatever was there, she’d have to go past it.

  Gripping her gun, Marla started to run again, sweeping past the rows of cars and onwards. There were two directions to choose from. The road going to the right was signposted The Drove, but the other route to the left was narrower, basically an alley, and it led back in the direction she had just come. A line of huge double bins lined it, like an obstacle course. She checked the other way. The Drove. It’s residential. I can find a house. It was an easy choice. Taking a breath, she stepped towards it as a hand grabbed her own and pulled her back. Cold fear overtook her as she turned. A pair of eyes stared out from a dirty face, half concealed by a dark blanket patched with skin. The man drew it down and smiled at her.

  Marla gasped. “Nick?”

  “That’s me, lady, old Nick. You look like you’ve been in the wars, but this is no time for chit-chat. Don’t argue and follow me now!”

  “Where?” she gasped, trembling.

  “To save yourself, love. I know a place that’s safe. Come on!” the man insisted and then rushed into the alleyway.

  Marla was about to argue, but stopped. Eerie wails were already flooding the sky like an endless record of doom. She followed him, instinctively trusting him. A man of the street would know this place like the back of his hand. He moved swiftly for a man of his age, she caught herself thinking as she shot down the alley like champagne behind a cork. At the end, they emerged on to Holders Road.

  “This way,” Nick whispered, crossing into James Road. “Trust me and be quiet.”

  Marla nodded and followed. Glancing back up Holders Road, she could see them, a distant haze at the end. Grey and shifting like a tide. The old man struck ahead and she followed behind, keeping silent. He peered over his shoulder at her and pointed to the right where there were two dead lookers sitting on the pavement. As soon as they clapped eyes on the newcomers, they struggled to their feet.

  Nick gestured to the left, towards a white van parked beside a house, and then he ducked behind it. With her shadowing him they crept between two houses. The crunch of footsteps on gravel made her wince and she looked to the side where a blonde girl in a
ripped, yellow sundress stood staring. Marla gazed back for a second, almost hypnotised by her sightless eyes and the arm hanging by a thread at her side. The girl raised the other one as if to point.

  A nudge in the ribs drew Marla back to reality and she hastened after Nick. As they exited on to solid pavement, she recognised the destination for the sign she had seen earlier: the main supermarket. She raised her eyebrows and he nodded before crossing the street. Stepping off the pavement, she almost jumped as a roar of sound carried through the air, low and guttural, like the last cries of a dying animal.

  “They’re coming,” whispered Nick, dashing towards the building.

  Marla made haste behind him, hearing footsteps in the distance, but she did not turn lest she lose her focus. Out of the corner of her eyes she detected movement on either side, at both ends of the street, but she stared straight ahead, following the old man behind the supermarket to a closed door. He knocked three times in quick succession and three times slowly, and it opened. Nick scurried inside with Marla on his heels and the door shut silently behind them.

  “Found her wandering the streets,” said Nick to the two men who were staring at Marla intently.

  She guessed they might be brothers or even twins as they had the same dark brown, spiky hair and dark eyes, and were of the same height. She gazed around the storage room they were in, taking in the shelves full of boxes and foodstuffs. There was enough to feed her for a year. To the right of the door was a single window with a metal grill across it. You could see out through the gaps, but no one would be able to break through it.

  “How come?” one of the men asked Nick as he locked the door with a series of bolts. He then pulled a metal screen down in front of it, which he secured at the sides.

  Marla watched him, thinking the device was something they had made themselves. “That’s a good idea,” she said, making the other man smile. “I’m Brian,” he said, holding out his hand and she shook it gladly. “This is my brother, Sid. I’m the friendly one.”