Dead Days: Season 3 (Books 13-18)

by Casey, Ryan

  And then they all clicked and shone their lights up into the night sky.

  They waited. Stood and waited as the helicopter got nearer.

  “We should try and SOS signal,” Barry said. “Let them know‌—‌”

  “Five torchlights in the middle of a motorway,” Pedro said. “I think that’ll be a decent enough SOS to a passer-by, bruv.”

  The helicopter was so close that Pedro could practically feel the cool air propelling down from it. But that wasn’t a good sign. It was coming overhead too fast, way too fast. It didn’t look like it was turning, either. Come on. It had to see them. It had to see the torches.

  “Is‌—‌why’s it flying away, Mum?” Josh asked.

  “It’s…‌” Tamara cleared her throat. “It isn’t flying away. Isn’t it?”

  Pedro wanted to say no. He wanted to say that it’d be on the ground, ready to pick them up any minute now.

  But the speed it was flying. It wasn’t stopping. The bastard pilot inside wasn’t stopping.

  Pedro kept his light shining into the sky. Pointed it right at the cockpit of the helicopter. He could see someone in there, behind the glass window. Someone with a black helmet on, headphones over his head.

  “Is…‌It can’t be frigging flying over,” Barry said. “Jesus, please no. Not now.”

  No sooner had Barry uttered those words than the helicopter passed right overhead. Pedro craned his neck right up at it. Felt a breeze from the propeller, smelled gas from the engine.

  And then it was overhead and moving away from them at the same speed it’d passed.

  “Shit,” Barry said. He kicked his foot into the concrete. “Shit!”

  Elaine whimpered a little louder, holding her bloody bundle of a boy to her chest in that red-soaked blue blanket. Tamara rubbed her eyes with one hand, squeezed Josh’s hand with the other. Josh just stared at the helicopter, frowning in confusion.

  “Why would it do that?” Barry said. “I mean, it can’t not have seen us. We should’ve signalled. We should’ve fucking signalled. Why would someone in a helicopter just do that?”

  Pedro didn’t know what to say. But his gut told him that what’d happened might’ve had to happen. Not that he was into any of that spiritual shit‌—‌he’d given that up when he’d seen body parts blasted all over the park back in the Gulf‌—‌but the helicopter. It wasn’t a sign. There were no signs, especially not in these days. It was just another person, another survivor, doing a better job of surviving than he was.

  “We…‌we go to sleep. Get back to sleep and carry on tomorrow.”

  Pedro walked past Barry. Walked past Tamara, Josh, Elaine. His mind raced, his ears buzzed. He was done for the night. He’d been done for the frigging night when he’d gone to sleep earlier, but now he really was. Too much had happened. Too much bad blood had been spilled, literally and figuratively. He needed to sleep on it. Sleep always did clear his mind.

  “Sleep?” Barry said. “I mean…‌You’re seriously suggesting we just go back to sleep after seeing what we just saw?”

  Pedro took in a deep breath and kept on walking. Barry’s whining voice made the hairs on his arms prick up. He couldn’t deal with another batch of Barry’s bullshit. He’d been so close to pulling the trigger before the helicopter appeared.

  He needed to face up to what he’d nearly done. Deal with his actions, for once.

  He turned around to the back of the van. Opened the door, climbed up the step.

  “Pedro, you…‌come out here.”

  Barry’s voice sounded more desperate than usual. Like he wanted to have a serious conversation instead of a war of words. But screw that. He was done for the night. “Talk in the morning, bruv. I’m fed up of‌—‌”

  “Pedro, get out here. Now.”

  The sternness that suddenly crept into Barry’s voice was unlike anything Pedro had heard from the man. But it still wasn’t enough to get him out of the van. The rest of them could deal with Elaine, work out what to do with her. He was done making decisions. He was done screwing up.

  He was about to close the door of the van when he saw the light.

  It was the same white light as before, only this time it was coming from the opposite direction. The direction the helicopter had flown into.

  The light was growing. The sounds of the propellers were picking up again.

  “It’s…‌it’s coming back,” Pedro muttered.

  He launched himself off the back of the van. Jumped up and down, waving on the spot, torch on again. Barry, Tamara, Josh, even Elaine, were all by his side. All by his side as the helicopter got closer, all by his side as it started to land, all by his side as it hit the ground.

  When it did touch ground, the propellers coming to a halt, the group just stood there staring at it for what felt like forever. Pedro wanted to make the move. He wanted to walk up to the helicopter, but he was wary. Wary of the man in the black top wearing the headphones in the cockpit. Wary of the way he was smiling at them through the glass.

  And then this man raised a hand, waved them over.

  Pedro looked to Barry. Looked at Tamara, Elaine, Josh. They all looked back at him, similarly twitchy.

  “I’ll go have a word,” Pedro said.

  Before anyone could protest‌—‌if anyone even would protest‌—‌Pedro walked in the direction of the helicopter. Every step felt like an eternity as adrenaline built up inside and buzzed through his chest. He felt like he was walking back from a mission on the final day of a tour of duty. That buzz of being so close, so close to home. But that lingering fear that something could still go so tits up at any moment swarmed within.

  He reached the side of the helicopter. Looked inside. Saw there were two people in the back as well as the headphoned man in the front. A short woman with dark hair and a longish nose, still pretty hot. And a big, long-haired grey bloke with a moustache that seemed right out of a seventies movie.

  The headphoned man took off his headphones, revealing a tuft of short black hair. He had real movie star looks, like he was from a Hollywood action film.

  “Heading to the LZ?” the pilot asked, with a slight lisp.

  Pedro could’ve melted inside. “The…‌yeah. Yes. The Living Zone. Is it…‌is it safe, bruv?”

  The pilot laughed. So too did the hot girl and the grey guy.

  “Is it safe?” the lispy guy said. “Safe enough to store a few of these beauties.” He opened his arms, gesturing at the helicopter. “As well as keep Dom back there all nice and fed.”

  Dom tutted. Muttered some things under his breath, but all the time keeping the smile on his face.

  The pilot squinted through the window. “How many of you are there? That four I see over there?”

  “Five. Five of us.”

  The pilot looked behind him, whistling as he did, like he was a coach driver in Tenerife rather than a pilot at the end of the world. “Five. We can do five. What’s your name?”

  Pedro cleared his throat. “Pedro.” He nodded at this guy. He felt unusually shaky. Like he owed this guy his life. Which he probably did.

  “Pedro! Wow. Impressive name. I’m Jason. Back there’s Dom and Sammy.”

  He held out a smooth hand to Pedro. Barely had any signs of graft or work on it. Smiled at Pedro with that permanent Hollywood smile of his.

  “Welcome to the end of your nightmare,” he said.

  Chapter One: Chloë

  Chloë woke up with happy jitters at the bottom of her tummy that turned to sad ones the moment she realised what day it was.

  She opened her eyes. Looked around the woods. Light was peeking through the trees, and the sky was clear. The ground was frosty, like it was three years ago to the day when Dad took them ice skating on the pond. The other parents thought he was stupid for doing that with Chloë and Elizabeth, and Mum told him off for days, but Chloë had loved it. Skating around that pond, feeling like a duck on top of the water, miles away from the rest of the world.

  She twiste
d herself over. Her neck was sore from where she’d been lying on the ground, and she had a dirty taste of soil in her mouth. Her teeth juddered together. She felt very sick. She wasn’t sure whether it was the sort of sick she got from being hungry or not, but she’d love to be enjoying a big breakfast with her family right now.

  A Christmas Day breakfast.

  She heard footsteps over to her left. Icy twigs cracking underneath feet. She twisted her neck the other way. She hoped Moustache Man hadn’t chased her. She hoped he’d stayed behind with Snarly Shelley and got bitten himself. Because that’s what he deserved.

  When she looked though, she saw it wasn’t Moustache Man at all‌—‌it was Jordanna.

  Seeing her in the daylight made Chloë realise how pretty she was. But pretty in a skinny sort of way. Her hair was dark, greasy and tangly, but everyone’s was these days. She had a narrow face, with a little scar above her top lip that Chloë wanted to ask about. She was carrying something in her hand‌—‌a dead rabbit. Chloë felt sad for the dead rabbit at first, but she also felt hungry. She wondered if that’s how the monsters felt when they ate people.

  “Breakfast is served,” Jordanna said. She threw the rabbit down in the ground in front of Chloë. Brushed her hands together. “Well, if we can find enough loose wood for a fire, that is. Up for the task?”

  Chloë stood up. Lifted herself onto her legs, which she realised right away were shaky. Her head spun. She and Jordanna had run out into the woods as far as they could get last night. They hadn’t looked around, hadn’t cared if a monster was coming, they’d just run. And they’d been lucky to survive the night, Chloë was clever enough to realise that now.

  But they had to push on. They couldn’t hang around anymore. Hanging around always caused problems.

  Chloë stepped over the rabbit and walked over the slippery ground in her stolen Nike trainers. She crunched against fallen leaves, walked through the woods, hoping it would take her where she wanted to go‌—‌where she had to go: Manchester.

  “Not sticking around for rabbit then?” Jordanna asked.

  “I have to go on,” Chloë said, but talking hurt because her throat was sore and dry. “To Manchester. I have to get there today.”

  Jordanna laughed, but Chloë kept on walking. She liked Jordanna, but she always laughed at things that Chloë said even when she wasn’t being funny. “Manchester? Kid, there’s a reason I got away from that part of the country. The big cities, they‌—‌”

  “I’m not a kid!” Chloë said, spinning around. Shouting made her feel dizzier, made her cheeks heat up.

  Jordanna raised her hands. “Okay. Okay. Sorry. It’s just I’ve been that way, Chlo. I came from a city just north of Manchester. And believe me, it’s not a place you want to go. You think there’s a lot of zombies up here, wait ‘til you see it there. And the people, well. The people are even worse.”

  Chloë instantly felt bad for snapping at Jordanna. She got that she was only looking out for her. But she didn’t like it when people treated her like she didn’t know what she was doing. “Every time I…‌” She struggled through her shivers for the words. “Every time someone else makes the choice for me, something bad happens.”

  Jordanna opened her mouth to speak. She scratched the back of her greasy hair and sighed. “We’ve all had bad luck‌—‌”

  “When I killed Stan’s wife, I was just‌—‌I was just trying to help everyone. But then things went bad because of the other people, and then we left the Chinese because of other people, and then Elizabeth died because of other people and‌—‌and Mum died.” Her voice shook when she said this. She looked at the locket hanging from her neck. Felt pressure building in her eyes like a balloon ready to burst. “I just need to…‌I need to try something myself. I can’t let another person make the wrong choice for me.”

  Jordanna was still for a few moments. She bit her lip, breathed out a lungful of cloudy air. Then, she walked slowly in Chloë’s direction. Placed a thin, soft hand on her left shoulder.

  “You’ve got to let that go,” Jordanna said. “Those things you’ve done, we’ve all got bad memories. But the ones of us who are still here are the ones who’ve given ‘em up.”

  “I’ve not given them up,” Chloë said, “and I’m still here.”

  Jordanna squeezed Chloë’s shoulder gently. She looked around at the forest, which they were deep inside. “Look, this thing you need to do…‌”

  “We need to go to Manchester. There’s a safe place there. Some men I found that tried to hurt me but…‌well, they didn’t hurt me, they were going there. Why would they be going somewhere bad?”

  “Awful lot of faith to have in a few men trying to hurt you.”

  Chloë ignored the remark. “What else do we do? Where else do we go?”

  Jordanna looked around. Whistled. “Stay in the countryside. Won’t last forever here, but we’ll last a damned sight longer than wandering back into a city. I dunno. Find a building like the Warburtons one and use it as our own. Maybe keep a dungeon to throw folks like that moustached freak into.”

  She smiled at this, as if to humour Chloë, but Chloë wasn’t really feeling like smiling.

  “Okay, ki‌—‌Chloë. We’ll go to Manchester, or at least go that direction. If I die on the way, I’ll try my best not to hold it against you. Hell, I’d probably be dead now anyway if the end of the world hadn’t happened.”

  Jordanna caught Chloë staring at her for this. She wanted to know what Jordanna meant.

  “Never mind. Another time. But I’ll come with you on one condition.”

  Chloë nodded. She couldn’t help herself from smiling. She was so glad she wasn’t going to be on her own. Anything was better than being on her own. “Anything.”

  Jordanna pointed to the dead rabbit on the ground. “I’m shit at setting fires. So we find a place to cook our breakfast.”

  Chloë’s stomach turned. She felt a bit more hungry, a little bit less sick now. “But what if it takes‌—‌”

  “Chlo, it’s the end of the world. You can have Christmas every frigging day of the year if you really want to.”

  Chloë and Jordanna walked through the woods in relative silence. It was really cold this morning. It was cold every morning, but really cold today. A “classic Christmas day,” Dad would say. Chloë never used to understand what he meant half the time, but she definitely understood that.

  Chloë looked up at Jordanna every now and then. She was quite tall, really. Chloë was used to being one of the tallest in her class, nearly as tall as her mum, but Jordanna made her feel small again. But that wasn’t a bad thing, not really. She’d been waiting for someone to make her feel small again for a long time. It made her feel safer.

  “So where are you from?” Chloë asked.

  Jordanna grinned. The dead rabbit dangled down from her hand like it was a teddy bear that had lost its stuffing. “Does it matter where I’m from, kid?”

  Chloë looked at the ground in front of her. Crunched down on the frosty twigs. The woods smelled like morning. Smelled like the ice thawing out, like everything was melting away and it was going to be okay again. “My…‌my mum always said that people who didn’t tell you where they were from had a lot to hide.”

  Jordanna laughed even more at this. She raised her eyebrows and crinkled her forehead. “Wow. Well, Chlo. Your mum sounds like a very intelligent woman.”

  “She’s dead now.”

  An awkward silence from Jordanna. A moment’s pause.

  “Yeah, I…‌I guessed she…‌”

  “I do miss her,” Chloë said. She grabbed the locket around her neck and held it out to show Jordanna, trying not to trip over a loose branch as they walked in search of a place to cook and eat their Christmas breakfast. “I was going to give her this today. This was her Christmas present. That’s why I was so sad when Ursula took it from me. Whenever this locket’s been with me I’ve felt stronger.”

  The sides of Jordanna’s mouth twitched
, but she didn’t make a cocky comment this time. “Your mum sounds like a very special lady to you. That’s…‌that’s a nice thing to have. A nice person to have in your life.”

  Chloë nodded. Pictured her mum lying beside her, stroking her hair as she drifted off to sleep in the warm comfort of her bed. “She was nice,” Chloë said. “The best.”

  There was another pause between the two of them as they got further into the woods. Chloë didn’t really feel like talking anymore, not after the talk of her mum. She was still getting over it. It had only been three sleeps ago that it had happened. Or was it four sleeps? She couldn’t remember properly. Everything was blurring together in a cold, hungry mess.

  “Where I’m from,” Jordanna said. “I…‌it doesn’t matter anymore. Doesn’t matter for any of us. But for what it’s worth, I kind of prefer it now.”

  Chloë frowned at Jordanna. “You prefer this?”

  “Believe it or not, there’s worse things than wading through a frosty woods on a Christmas morning.”

  “But‌—‌but the monsters. The monsters and‌—‌and the bad people. And having to eat‌—‌having to eat rabbits.” Chloë could barely spill out everything bad about how things were now. She couldn’t believe Jordanna actually thought this world was better than anything. The world that had taken away Chloë’s sister, Chloë’s mum.

  “There’s always been monsters in the world,” Jordanna said, stopping to take a look around the woods. “They just come in different forms nowadays.”

  Another slight pause. The pair of them stood there, listened to the breeze rustling against the leafless tree branches. Chloë tried to hear a moaning monster, or hear footsteps, but she couldn’t and that was a good thing.

  “And hey,” Jordanna said, patting Chloë on her shoulder. “Rabbit’s not so bad. Better than some of the things I was eating before, anyway.”

  Chloë looked at the mangled, smelly mess that was the rabbit and wondered how anything could possibly be worse. Maybe hotpot. She’d had hotpot at her nan’s once and it had made her sick seven times in the night, so maybe that.