Dead Days: Season 3 (Books 13-18)

by Casey, Ryan

  “When you’ve been through hell, you just learn to appreciate what you’ve got,” Jordanna said. “And not to sound the martyr, but I’ve been through hell long before the apocalypse started.” She snorted on the word ‘apocalypse’ as if it just wasn’t a big deal to her. Chloë didn’t know what a martyr was, but she kind of got that Jordanna was saying that things were no worse now than they were in the past.

  Weird lady.

  “Hey‌—‌look over there,” Jordanna said. She pointed up ahead. Squinted at something in the distance.

  Chloë looked right away. Was it a monster? No. If it was a monster she’d have heard it, smelled it, but she couldn’t hear anything but the tree branches in the breeze and she couldn’t smell anything but that fresh winter smell.

  She couldn’t see anything either.

  “What is it?” Chloë asked.

  “There, look. Just past the branch reaching over the top up ahead. Fourth tree along. You see it?”

  Chloë could see this tree, which looked like it had a hand sticking out of its side, but she didn’t know what Jordanna was talking about. There was nothing there. Nothing and no-one. “I don’t…‌”

  And then she saw that nothing being there was exactly the point.

  “A path,” Chloë said.

  The pair of them stepped forward in the woods. Chloë could see it, only faintly, but it was definitely there. A patch of land where the trees just stopped then started again, a wide trail of dirt in between them. A footpath, no doubt about it.

  “Where do you think it goes?” Chloë asked. She reached the edge of the path. Got tingly in her belly when she reached it. She was in the open again. No protection from the trees. Like being in the middle of a main road in a city. She looked to her left, looked as the path sunk down a hill, rising up again. Then to her right, the path just went on, cutting through trees and out of sight.

  “Only one way to find out,” Jordanna said, stepping onto the path and walking towards the sloping side on the left.

  She stopped. Stopped and looked at Chloë. “Your call actually. Left or right?”

  As Chloë weighed it up in her mind, she kind of wished she’d never said all that about wanting to make the decisions. She was just getting used to having an adult around again.

  “We’ll go your way,” Chloë said, walking slightly ahead of Jordanna and down the soily hill.

  “Call it your way, please,” Jordanna said. “I don’t wanna be another name on your list.”

  “What list?” Chloë asked.

  Jordanna opened her mouth. Blushed a little at the cheeks. Closed it again. “Nothing,” she said. “Let’s just see what’s down this path before I eat this bloody rabbit raw.”

  Chapter Two: Pedro

  “Can you see anything? What’s it like out there?”

  Pedro peeked through the white curtain, tried to get a good look outside the tent they’d been put in. But he couldn’t see a thing. He could hear stuff‌—‌hear the people from the helicopter talking‌—‌but couldn’t see a thing.

  It’d been the same since they landed here in the early hours, wherever here was.

  Pedro turned around. Shrugged at Barry, who was perched on the edge of a stained double mattress. Tamara and Josh were at the other side, while Elaine sat on her own on a wooden chair in the corner of the room. None of them had got much sleep.

  “This place can’t be the famous Living Zone,” Barry said. Face looked like a bruised banana after Pedro’s work on it in the early hours. Yet weirdly, they were talking again. Back on talking terms. All had been forgotten after the beating. Like a reset button had been hit the moment that helicopter came back for them, since Jason, Dom and Sammy plucked them from the road and into the sky.

  “You heard what they said,” Tamara said. She was brushing her hair. That was a perk of this tent‌—‌it did have a few supplies. It was like one of those tents that are set up in the middle of a country fair‌—‌a circus tent but without the pomp. It was empty but for a few mattresses plonked down, and a few supplies like toothbrushes and hairbrushes. But like shit could Pedro do much with a hairbrush. Give his bald scalp a good scratch, maybe.

  “This is just a stopgap,” Tamara continued, recalling what the helicopter people had said.

  “Well I didn’t sign up for a bloody stopgap,” Barry said. He lifted himself off the mattress, but winced and clutched his right side. His eyes met Pedro’s for a moment then flickered away. He didn’t want to be seen to be giving Pedro any satisfaction, that was for sure.

  “It’s probably just best we wait and see what happens,” Pedro said. That said, he was as desperate as the others‌—‌probably more damn desperate‌—‌to see what this place was, how far from the Manchester Living Zone they were. “We’ve only been here a couple of hours.”

  “Longest two hours of my life,” Barry said. He shook his head, but that made him wince too.

  Pedro looked over at Elaine. Looked at her, shaking, eyes wide. Her bare arms were stained with blood. The blood of her son. Her son, who Barry had shot.

  No. He’d shot the zombie of her son. Big distinction.

  Pedro didn’t know what to say to this woman. She hadn’t uttered a word since the incident, and barely uttered one before then. She let her boy go‌—‌let him rest on the motorway, which was a bold move. Seemed so detached when she did it. And to think of it, the only things she’d really talked about were that she’d had some kind of run-in with the same dicks Pedro and the others had on the motorway.

  That said, nobody had really said anything on the helicopter. A few geeky helicopter comments from former Mr Air Ambulance Barry, but otherwise they were in too much awe to start the small talk. Looking down at the pitch black below, wondering‌—‌knowing‌—‌the horrors that were down there.

  The people who’d saved them had been tight-lipped, too. Something from the Hollywood-faced Jason about the “end of a nightmare,” but maybe that was just a cheesy line in itself. After that, a few words on stopping temporarily, on communicating. He hoped to shit he hadn’t gone and brought the group into even worse danger than they were in before. If he had, he’d have taken the pissing road.

  There was something else bothering Pedro too. Something that he didn’t want to talk about, because he didn’t want to comment ‘til he was absolutely sure.

  It was Josh.

  He’d gone so quiet since last night. And sure as shit, any kid would go quiet after the crap he’d seen. But he looked pale, too. Pale, and kept on sneezing.

  Pedro kept a close eye on him. He could tell from the way Tamara held him tightly that she was showing some extra concern, too.

  “Merry Christmas, all!”

  The voice behind the curtain made Pedro jump and spin around. When he peeked through this time, he saw Jason walking towards them holding some plastic containers.

  And then Pedro smelled it. Hot, delicious food.

  His stomach churned. Shit. When was the last time he’d eaten a bloody Ready Meal?

  Jason edged open the curtain, smiling away. He had slicked-back dark hair, wore a dark blue shirt and black trousers with a brown belt. Today, he looked more like a football manager than a Hollywood star. More Joachim Löw than Tom Cruise.

  “Breakfast…‌and dinner, is served.”

  He placed the plastic containers onto the concrete floor, being careful not to drop any. Pedro couldn’t get over the smells, couldn’t get over the tastes already swirling through his mouth, making it water.

  Bangers and mash.

  Chicken Tikka with rice.

  Spaghetti carbonara.

  “And this is for the young man,” Jason said. He tossed a present wrapped in red Christmas wrapping over to Josh, which landed on the bed beside him. “Santa didn’t have time to leave us adults any presents. Too busy being nipped at by infected.”

  Josh’s eyes lit up. He grabbed the square box, opened it up, but Pedro was too fixated on the food to give a damn what it was. And hey
‌—‌did someone say Christmas? Shit. He’d stopped keeping track of the days weeks ago.

  He lurched down into the food, as too did Tamara and Barry. He got handfuls of bangers and mash, not caring that the thick gravy was spilling down his fingers, not giving a shit how much he dribbled on the floor.

  “Woah, an army helmet!” Josh shouted. He plonked an old green metal helmet over his head. It was way too big for him, but it put the first smile on his face Pedro had seen all morning, so that was something.

  Jason stood quiet, smiling as they all ate their food. Josh came to join them now, showing off his army helmet, asking Pedro if it was like his used to be, and if it was his helmet that made him bald.

  And then Pedro noticed that Elaine wasn’t eating anything. She was still sat on her own, still shaking, still wide-eyed.

  He thought about offering her some food. Thought about offering her the final sausage from the bangers and mash. But then he remembered how Corrine used to act when he asked her if she was okay after little Sam died. He remembered the sickness even the smell of food used to give him.

  He ate the final banger. There’d be plenty of food at the Living Zone. If this was a stopgap and they were being served hot microwaved food like this, then shit. The Living Zone was gonna be something.

  “Hope you enjoyed your food,” Jason said, like a waiter at a very uncivilised restaurant. He reached down and picked up the plastic containers, as Tamara and Barry leaned back, both licking their lips. Josh crunched down on a Yorkshire pudding, and tapped on his new helmet.

  “Thanks so much, bruv,” Pedro said, cleaning the gravy from his teeth with his tongue. “No idea how much we wanted that.”

  “I can imagine,” Jason said. “It’s especially rough out there, and walking down a motorway, well. Can’t imagine it’s ripe ground for hunting. Unless you’re an infected, of course.”

  “Well worth it after this little treat,” Pedro said. Tamara smiled and nodded in agreement. Barry looked around the floor trying to find any scrap he could to fill his flabby belly. “When we moving on to Manchester?”

  Jason’s smile dropped. Just for a split second, that perfection in his smile crumbled away.

  He placed the plastic containers down and folded his arms.

  “We have outposts like this all around the city. All in decent locations. Not safe, but decent for a stopgap, like I said. It’s also pretty standard procedure when we’re out on a helicopter run to stop at one of these places and pick up some supplies. If the world latched on to all our supplies being in one place in the main LZ, then you can imagine stocks would dwindle pretty fast.”

  “Sounds like rationing to me,” Barry said.

  Jason shrugged. “Whatever you want to call it, it works.”

  Another pause. Another slight twitch of Jason’s smile.

  “Anyhow, we were hoping to pick up a few bits and bobs and head back to the Living Zone in an hour or so. Shouldn’t take us long to get there by helicopter. Twenty minutes at the very most.”

  “Another twenty minutes in the air sounds good to me,” Pedro said. He was looking forward to seeing the world below in the daylight. Getting a real perspective on things, like how astronauts had those crazy episodes when they saw the earth from space.

  Another pause from Jason. He scratched the back of his neck, cleared his throat.

  “We won’t be going by helicopter,” Jason said. “It’s malfunctioned.”

  The sinking feeling that was growing all so familiar hit Pedro again, although it felt even worse now he had a full stomach. “What the fuck you mean it’s‌—‌”

  “These things happen,” Jason said, holding up his hands. His expensive-looking black-strapped watch slid down his narrow wrist. “But don’t worry. It’s okay. We have an alternative route.”

  Slight diminishing on the sinking feeling.

  Barry puffed out his lips. “Jesus, I thought for a moment there we were gonna have to get walking again.”

  Jason’s facial expression didn’t change. He stood there, arms folded, half-smile on his difficult-as-shit-to-read face.

  “Wait,” Barry said. His face, already purple from the nine shades of shit he’d had beaten out of him, went even purpler. “Walking? You have to be joking, don’t you?”

  Jason cleared his throat. “It’s a safe route. Bypasses the main streets of the city. We’ll be there in two hours tops‌—‌”

  “Two hours frigging tops,” Barry grumbled. He planted his face in his hands, quickly bringing them away when he realised how sore he was.

  Two hours. Two hours was manageable. Now they’d eaten, Pedro was feeling pretty optimistic. “This route’s definitely safe? It’s just…‌” He looked over at Josh. No one had mentioned his bite to Jason or the other helicopter people yet. He wanted to wait until they were actually in the Living Zone. He wanted to wait and weigh this place up for himself, for them all.

  “Don’t worry, Pedro,” Jason said. “We’ve got the safety of all of you as an absolute priority. I’ve personally run the route a number of times. The most trouble I’ve come into were four infected, but I dealt with those from a distance. If we stay wise, we’ll be fine. Trust me. You’re almost home.”

  The last words sounded forced. Staged.

  Pedro looked around the room. Looked at Tamara, at Josh, at Elaine. “What d’you reckon?”

  Tamara shrugged. Squeezed Josh’s hand. “Well I…‌we might as well. I don’t see what other choice we have.”

  Pedro looked at Elaine. Waited for an answer, but all he got was a distant, spaced-out nod.

  “Barry?” he said.

  Barry bit at his swollen lip. Shook his head from side to side. Mumbled curses under his breath.

  “Go on then,” he said, rubbing his tubby belly. “Suppose I should probably get working that food off anyway.”

  “Amen to that, bruv,” Pedro said.

  Barry opened his mouth to snap back, but fast closed it again.

  Good boy. He was learning.

  Pedro held his arms out while Sammy, the cute brunette from the helicopter strapped him into some kind of heavy duty suit.

  “Do they really not do these vests in a bigger size?” Barry asked. Dom, the long, grey-haired guy also from the helicopter, was trying to clip Barry’s black vest, but he couldn’t wrap it around his belly properly.

  “All them bangers you ate,” Pedro muttered, as Sammy patted his chest to check how padded it was.

  Barry tutted. Rolled his swollen eyes. “Hey, you were the one scoffing all the sausages. I didn’t even‌—‌”

  “Alright, alright, bruv. Save your energy.”

  “Are these things even bite-proof?” Tamara asked. She was standing to Pedro’s left. She ran her hands down her front of the riot gear type uniform, noting all the gaps where the vest ended and her normal white shirt began‌—‌little spots where teeth could easily slip through.

  “No,” Sammy said. “But they’re the best we got.”

  Pedro stretched himself out. Damn, it was like gearing up to go out on an army mission again, or a training course. Yeah, more like a training course. Too frigging freezing to be anything like Afghan. He looked around the tent. They were in a little front area now, and he could feel a cold breeze drifting in through a zipped “door” just up ahead. The tent itself was weird‌—‌huge, like a market stall, with all sorts of food, drinks, even weapons lining tables around this section of the tent, different sections branching off at the sides. But these supplies. He dreaded to think what might happen should all this crap get into the wrong hands.

  But then again, were there really any right hands anymore?

  He walked over to Josh. Patted him on top of his old-fashioned army helmet. Looked like a WW2 piece, something like that. Flimsy as shit against bullets, but decent enough for blocking chipped teeth, he figured.

  “How you doing, soldier? Ready for action?”

  Josh looked up at Pedro. The top half of his face was covered by the h
elmet. He lifted a little hand to his head and saluted. “Sir, yes sir!”

  Tamara tutted and smiled, patting her son on his shoulder. “You can’t go walking around with that helmet in your eyes. How’ll you see the zombies?”

  Josh jumped ahead, held up his fists like a martial arts master. “I’ll smell them! I’ll smell them with my super-smell powers and‌—‌and then I’ll chop them!” He brought his unbitten arm through the air and made a whooshing sound.

  “Someone’s livened up,” Pedro said to Tamara.

  Tamara was quiet for a few seconds. Then she looked at Pedro with those nut-coloured eyes of hers. “You…‌you noticed him too then?”

  Pedro scratched the back of his neck. “Well I mean the kid…‌He’s seen a lot. He’s‌—‌”

  “He’s sick,” Tamara said, her voice shaky. “He’s…‌He should’ve been sick weeks ago, when the…‌” She lowered her voice. “When it happened. I just…‌I just worry it’s all been delayed. That maybe‌—‌maybe some people just take longer to turn than others. I mean it’s possible, right? With all the people in the world, there must be…‌there must be some like him.”

  Tamara looked to the floor. Her eyes were filling up.

  Pedro wanted to place a hand on her shoulder. Wanted to tell her everything was gonna be okay. But shit‌—‌he couldn’t lie. He was bullshit at lying. Corrine always used to tell him he couldn’t lie if he were harbouring Anne Frank. That it was a good job she wasn’t in his attic, or there never would’ve been a bestselling diary. Or it’d have ended at page one.

  “We don’t know a lot at all,” Pedro said, struggling for the words. Josh jumped around, whooshing his hands through the air, sniffing up every few seconds. Over by the tent “door,” which was more like a curtain, Jason stood tightening his black armour. “About‌—‌about the virus. Or the infection. Or whatever. We don’t know. But think about it‌—‌we’ve been out in the freezing cold. Even I’m getting a bit of the sniffles.”

  Tamara gulped. Her watery eyes met Pedro’s again, and he felt that weird connection‌—‌that same connection he’d felt last night when he’d confessed to her what happened in Afghanistan. That moment that felt forever ago, so much had happened since.