Dead Days: Season 3 (Books 13-18)

by Casey, Ryan

  He cried out. Cried, and shot his bullets into the air, which dropped down like hot metal rain. Blood spewed out of his neck as the decomposing zombie dug its teeth further into him, draining the colour from his pretty-boy, Hollywood actor cheeks.

  Pedro lunged for the gun without even thinking. Just lunged for it on pure instinct. He grabbed it from Jason, who didn’t put up much of a protest. Aimed it at the goon’s head, and fired it into next week.

  Blood and brains splattered against the recycling bin. Pedro looked down at Jason, eyes bulging as he choked and gargled on his own blood and vomit.

  “Sorry,” Pedro said. “Thanks for everything.”

  And without thinking again, on instinct again, he shot a few bullets into Jason’s head.

  The life drifted from his body with a squelch of mashed brain.

  Pedro turned around. Turned and saw everyone‌—‌even Sammy and Dom‌—‌staring at him with pure shock on their faces.

  “What the fuck are you waiting for?” Pedro barked, holding the gun tightly. “Fire at the fuckers!”

  But then Pedro realised they weren’t looking at him. They weren’t even looking at Jason’s body.

  He could hear something. Something like rainfall. Very heavy rainfall.

  He could smell something too. Smell something even stronger, even sicklier than the rotting rubbish down this alleyway.

  He looked back to the end of the alleyway. Looked back in the direction they were heading.

  Pedro never got claustrophobic. Not usually.

  But when he saw the alleyway entrance completely blocked up with zombies, when he saw the speed they were coming towards him, he felt more trapped than he ever had in his life, even more trapped than he had in that Afghan torture room.

  “I want you to forget everything you think you know about the infected. The rules change the moment you step through these curtains.”

  Jason was right.

  And they were power-walking in the group’s direction.

  Power-walking pretty fucking fast.

  Chapter Six: Pedro

  “Back out the alleyway! Quick!”

  Pedro was already running away from the oncoming zombies before anyone else had a chance to even move. He could hear their footsteps pattering against the concrete. And the speed they were moving. Sure, they weren’t exactly gonna give Usain Bolt nightmares any time soon, but they were fast enough to warrant running from.

  Forget everything you know about them.

  Was this what Jason meant?

  Even though he had an assault rifle now, Pedro knew the odds of shooting that big a mass of creatures down was crazy. It’d leave them ammo-less and as good as dead. So better to just go back the way they’d come.

  He aimed at the goons at the clearer side of the alleyway. Six of them now, all wandering in at an easier pace than their speedy mates opposite. He fired at them. Blasted them, one by one, all in the head, with short bursts from the assault rifle.

  God, it felt good to fire a proper weapon again.

  He listened to the pellets of gunfire from Sammy and Dom splattering into the mass of creatures behind, but he knew it was pointless. They might knock down one or two, but they should know better. They should face ahead. They should…‌

  As he got closer to the end of the alleyway, Pedro slowed down. His stomach deflated like a burst balloon.

  The paceys‌—‌decent name for ‘em‌—‌were starting to seep through this side of the alleyway now. And there were plenty of them, too. Not as many as the other side, but enough. Way too many.

  Pedro listened to the shouts and screams of the rest of the group. Listened to Tamara whispering things to her boy, listened to Elaine sobbing like she always sobbed, listened to Barry cursing.

  They were surrounded. Completely and utterly fucked. This was it.

  As the goons closed in on them, Sammy and Dom still firing at the stragglers at the front of the oncoming hordes, Pedro felt freed by a realisation of his fate all of a sudden. Soon, he’d be free. Free from all the running away. Never having to look over his shoulder again, never having to worry about doing or saying the right thing. Never having to feel guilty for the shit he’d done in his past.

  It’d be over soon. All over.

  But then he heard Josh’s little whimper, his little splutter, and it awoke in him another realisation.

  He’d made a promise to Tamara. A promise to get her boy to the Living Zone. A promise that started as getting Josh there because he was special‌—‌of getting him there because he could be the key to saving the whole damned world. But now, there was more to it than that.

  He wanted to get Josh to the Living Zone for Josh’s own sake. For his mum’s own sake.

  He wasn’t letting another kid down.

  He lifted the assault rifle and he blasted a flurry of bullets at the power-walking paceys coming in his direction.

  He sent the first few to the ground in a bloody mess. Smelled the rot emanating from their pierced flesh, warm with the impact of the bullets.

  “The wall! The‌—‌the garden. We’ve got to get in the garden!”

  Pedro turned round. Fired at the other zombies approaching, their footsteps deafening in this narrow alleyway. He noticed Dom helping Elaine onto one of the metal rubbish bins, then Tamara and Josh. Barry was still on the ground. He looked at Pedro. Looked at him with his bust eyes as the others climbed to the top of the wall, Pedro’s chance of getting over narrowing by the second.

  “Better hurry mate,” Dom said as he reached up for Sammy, who helped pull him up and over.

  Pedro turned again. The goons were so close now. Just a matter of metres away. He fired at them again. He’d be out of bullets soon, but he had to thin them out as well as he could.

  He flipped back around. Fired at the others.

  “Pedro, quick!” Tamara screamed.

  He turned around again. Took a deep breath. Kept his cool, and fired.

  Then nothing came out of his rifle.

  Deep breath. This was it.

  The goons just ten feet away, he swung around and launched himself towards the bin.

  But Barry was still standing there. He was still standing there, frozen, looking at Pedro.

  “Go on, Barry. After you. After you!”

  But still Barry stood there. He was breathing fast. Pedro swore a damp patch was spreading around Barry’s dark brown trousers, and he could smell piss.

  “Fuck. Get straight up here after me, bruv!”

  Pedro couldn’t wait around for Barry to go first any longer. He climbed onto the bin, reached up the side of the brick wall, felt himself get pulled up by Dom and Sammy.

  When he reached the top, he turned back around.

  Barry was looking at the goons coming towards him. They were moving in on him like dogs on fresh meat, fluid as piss.

  “Barry!” Pedro shouted. He held his arms out. Reached as far out as he could for him. “Come on, mate!”

  Barry turned around.

  He looked Pedro in his eyes. Tears rolled down his swollen cheeks. For the first time since Pedro had met him‌—‌even after beating him‌—‌he actually saw some fear there.

  “Get Josh safe,” Barry said. “Get him‌—‌”

  He didn’t finish his sentence because the zombies from the right collided into him.

  Barry tumbled to the ground. Tumbled down as the weight of the starving zombies clambered around him. He closed his eyes. Closed his eyes as their mouths got closer to him, as their snapping teeth wrapped around his neck.

  He opened them again when the teeth sunk in. Opened them and screamed as they tore the skin from his flesh, ripped the flesh from his bones. He screamed. Screamed like a little girl, tried to drag himself away, as another creature stuffed its face into his belly and ripped him open, exposing his stringy guts, peeling layers and layers of flab away.

  His screams became mumbled when the second group of zombies swarmed him and bit into his shoulders, his neck, h
is face.

  Pedro lowered himself from the wall as the creatures feasted on Barry. They were like piranhas, gathering around at the sight of blood, in a starved frenzy.

  When Pedro heard the sound like an Easter egg hitting something solid‌—‌the cracking of Barry’s skull under the teeth of the goons‌—‌he couldn’t stop the acidic vomit from tumbling out of his throat.

  It was only seconds after Barry’s skull cracked open that his muffled screams stopped.

  Chapter Seven: Pedro

  Pedro didn’t know what was worse‌—‌the sound of Josh crying or the sound of Barry’s flesh being ripped from his body.

  He stood in the yard of the terraced house that the group had climbed over into. Tamara hugged Josh, who looked paler than ever. Sammy rubbed the bridge of her nose, as Dom leaned back and stared up at the sky, pale-faced and shoulders slumped. Elaine sat back against the mossy concrete wall, everyone else joining her in her perpetual grief.

  Barry had stayed behind. He’d let the goons eat him. And that last look he’d given Pedro. That look in his eyes. It was like an apology. Like a “I hope this makes up for the shit that’s happened,” look.

  He’d sacrificed himself to secure Josh’s safety. Obviously saw Pedro as a better guardian of the kid, or something like that.

  Fuck. Pedro couldn’t have done it. Did that make Barry a much better man than him?

  “So‌—‌so what now?” Tamara asked, her voice slight and shaky.

  Dom looked at her. Shook his head. “What now? We’re stuck in here. Stuck, surrounded, and those infected aren’t going anywhere.” He wiped at his nose. Walked across the cracked concrete tiles of the yard and towards the white back door of the house, paint crumbling from it. He smacked his fist against it, tried to turn the handle, but there was no movement.

  “Fuck,” he said. He kicked the bottom of the door, making more paint crumble away. He stepped back and pointed his assault rifle at the window.

  “I‌—‌I don’t think you want to do that,” Sammy said.

  Dom must’ve seen it too because he lowered his gun almost immediately. His shoulders slumped to new levels of dejection.

  Behind the murky, dusty window, goons wandered around inside. Impossible to tell how many from out here, but judging by the horribly shitty smell, Pedro figured quite a few.

  “We can still take them, can’t we?” Pedro asked.

  Dom turned around. Frowned at Pedro and waved his gun. “If we didn’t have five bullets left, sure. Sure we could. Unless you want to go fucking melee on them?”

  Pedro thought about shouting back at him, but then he saw the way Tamara and Josh were holding on to one another, saw the tears on Tamara’s soft cheeks, the snot dribbling from Josh’s runny nose. Saw the spaced out look on Elaine’s face. Now wasn’t a time for arguing.

  He looked back at the red brick wall. Just the other side of it, he could hear the feast still going on. Could hear slippery, runny parts being torn into multiple pieces, could hear the collective chewing of raw flesh. He didn’t wanna think about what Barry would look like now. The taste of sick was still too strong in his mouth to think about that. Barry wouldn’t be coming back as a goon with much on his bones‌—‌that was for sure.

  “So we’re stuck in here,” Pedro said.

  “Yep,” Dom said. He walked back over to Sammy. “Looks like we are. So there’s…‌” He looked around the group. Appeared to be totting them up. “Six of us. And seeing as you dropped your frigging gun, Sam, I’d say you should be the one to go without a bullet‌—‌”

  “Enough of this bullshit,” Pedro said. He knew he wasn’t in a position to be making commands, but somebody had to take a bit of responsibility here. “Look, the…‌the way Barry looked at me. The way he looked at me before‌—‌”

  “We don’t want to know!” Dom said.

  “Just hear me out,” Pedro said. Jesus Christ, how many more fucking idiots was he going to have to deal with? “Look, he looked at me and he told me to get Josh safe. And then…‌and then the goons‌—‌the infecteds, or whatever‌—‌they all threw themselves at him. Completely fixated on him.”

  A slight pause, as Pedro looked around at everyone.

  “So?” Sammy said.

  Pedro cleared his throat. “So I…‌I think Barry knew he wasn’t gonna make it up this wall. I think…‌I think he used himself as bait. I think he‌—‌he was trying to give us a chance.”

  Another silence, this one longer, and much more painful.

  “Are you saying we…‌we should climb over there?” Tamara said.

  Pedro felt heat burning his cheeks. If anyone but Tamara had questioned him, he’d be fine about it. But he didn’t want her doubting. Not after he’d sworn everything to protect her boy. “I know it sounds crazy‌—‌”

  “It is crazy!” Dom shouted. The goons at the window behind him pushed themselves up to the glass, clawed their chewed down nails into it. “If we go back over that wall, we’re as good as dead.”

  “Maybe,” Pedro said. “But if we stay in this yard, we’re definitely dead. We’ve got a chance now. A chance to jump over the wall and leg it as fast as we can. In a few minutes, maybe less than that, they’re gonna finish snacking on Barry’s body and he’ll have died for nothing. Jason, too. Is that what you want? All of you?”

  There was another round of silence. Dom opened his mouth to protest, but instead shook his head and sighed. “Whatever. I’ve got a few bullets. I…‌I suppose I can‌—‌I can fire a few back.”

  Pedro looked at Sammy. She was still squeezing the bridge of her nose. She shrugged. “Whatever. Fuckin’ dead as it is. Might as well make an event of it.”

  And now Pedro looked at Tamara. Looked at her holding Josh, prayed that she’d let him make this big decision for her.

  “Tamara?” he said.

  Her lips quivered. She kissed her son’s curly dark hair. “I don’t‌—‌I don’t‌—‌”

  “You know how important it is we get Josh to the Living Zone. You…‌you know how important that is. And if we don’t leave this yard, he never will get there. All those people he could save. Think of them.”

  Tamara’s eyes were watery. She stared at Pedro, sniffling. Josh’s eyes were closed. Poor boy was clearly knackered.

  “What’s so special about the boy?”

  The voice was Dom’s. Pedro’s stomach sank. Fuck. He hadn’t meant to let Josh’s condition slip. He didn’t want anyone else to know he was bitten‌—‌a bite survivor‌—‌until he was absolutely sure he could trust them.

  And he wasn’t sure he could trust Dom. Not at all.

  But Dom was staring at him. Staring with narrowed eyes, big blue bags underneath them. Sammy was looking too, her eyes jutting from Pedro to Josh as if she was putting two and two together.

  “Look, he’s…‌it’s‌—‌”

  The glass of the kitchen window cracked.

  The goons were in the yard.

  Pedro didn’t have time to think. He threw himself at Tamara and Josh. Put his arm around them both and pulled them back towards the wall, everyone flying at it.

  They had no choice but to escape now. No choice but to try and get the shit out of here.

  “Quick! You‌—‌you climb up first,” Pedro said. He lifted Tamara on top of the wall, then he carried Josh’s slight body up.

  After that, he’d let the others climb for themselves. Not that he didn’t care for them, just they were less important than Josh. Less important than Tamara.

  Horrible way to look at things, sure. But nobody kind survived this world. And Barry wasn’t gonna die for nothing, Pedro was making sure of that.

  He stood on top of the wall. The zombies below were still indulging themselves in Barry’s guts. A trail of his intestines was strung along the top of the goons, like a bloody rope in a tug of war. Barry’s body was an unrecognisable mash of chewed up meat. He didn’t even have a face, not anymore.

  But the goons were still on h
im. Still fixated. Thank God Barry was a fat bloke.

  Pedro looked at Tamara and Josh. Looked at them as they shook, tears streaming down their cheeks. Behind them, Elaine, Dom and Sammy made their way up the wall as the zombies stalked behind them. They were gonna have to move soon. All of them were gonna have to move.

  “You two just run as fast as you can, okay?” Pedro said. He scuffled Josh’s curls. Rested a hand on Tamara’s shoulder. “You just run as fast as you can. I’ll…‌I’ll be right beside you.”

  Tamara blinked fast. She was shaking all over. But then she nodded. She nodded, twitched a slight smile, and brought her son tightly to her chest.

  She lowered her legs over the wall. Pedro lowered his, too. He was going to be right behind them when he fell. A wall between the zombies and them. And then he was going to grab Tamara’s hand and they were going to run.

  He didn’t want to die. Not after seeing the undignified death Barry had suffered for the dignified act he’d committed.

  But Pedro wasn’t gonna let another kid down. Not a kid this special.

  He inhaled a deep breath of the rotten-smelling air. Gulped down a vomity bubble of phlegm.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  Tamara sniffed up. Kissed her boy on the head. Nodded.

  Pedro looked at the ground below, the zombies still paying no attention to him. He held his breath.

  “Three, two, one…‌”

  He slipped down onto the hard ground below, Tamara and Josh falling beside him.

  He grabbed Tamara’s hand. He didn’t turn to look at the goons as he ran down the concrete path. He could hear them close behind, could feel their dead eyes burning into his back, but he didn’t look at them. He’d done looking at them.

  He just ran down the alleyway holding Tamara’s hand as tightly as he could, pulling her and Josh along.

  The exit to the alleyway got closer. The walls widened out. Behind, he heard a few thumps‌—‌the others hitting the concrete. They could do this. They were so close.

  Just a few metres. A few more metres…‌

  As he got to the end of the alleyway, he noticed the open gate again. A gate that could be closed. A gate that could keep the goons away. He had to try and close it. Least then they wouldn’t have to run down the street‌—‌