He smiled happily, riding on a cushion of heavy, comfortable air that built up around him when the old woman - who was surely his mother - made him swallow the multi-coloured tablets that took away all his pain.
She took him outside, into the fresh air, walking him like a dog, but he didn’t mind. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt so safe, or so at home. The old woman muttered softly at him as he walked, dazed, ahead of her, and her crooning voice comforted him.
When she found the body of the man near the water, his head caked in dry blood and his eyes fixed on the sea, and discovered that the small boat which had been moored to the jetty was gone, her grip on the rope around his neck tightened, but it was the change in her that lit a fire in his nerves.
She raged and spat, and stared furiously at the building that poured light into the night in the distance across the water, and the change in her made him feel sick and anxious, and tears rolled down his cheeks as he tried to understand her anger, and could not.
*
Ed’s words shook Rachel like an earthquake, rattling her to the core.
Voorhees? It couldn’t be…
Voorhees was the nickname the cruel children at school had used to mercilessly tease her giant brother. She remembered they used to play a game, pretending he was the monster from the horror films, and they would all run away from him on the schoolyard. Jason had even thought it was funny for a while and had played along. Until one day he grew old enough to understand the meaning of the word outcast, and realised just how it applied to him. Voorhees. It had to be coincidence. Had to.
“What did he look like?” Rachel mumbled softly, almost as though she was afraid to hear the answer.
“I don’t know. Massive. Guy looked like he was on a steady diet of about twenty thousand calories a day. Brown hair.”
Ed shrugged.
Tears stung Rachel’s eyes as she remembered Jason muttering an apology to her before the Infected blocked him from her sight in Aberystwyth. It was the last time she had seen her brother. The last time she thought she ever would see him.
Sorry, Rach.
A fat, warm tear spilled down her cheek, and she dropped her gaze to the floor.
“Rachel?” John said. “What is it?”
Rachel blinked rapidly.
“It’s Jason.”
John stared at her blankly.
“How? Jason’s dead.” He cringed a little as he said it and saw her stricken face, and moved on quickly. “What do you mean?”
Rachel shook her head at John impatiently, and turned to Ed.
“What was he doing? Voorhees. You said they were after him?”
Ed nodded.
“I had the…uh…zombies after me.” He flushed a little, as though the word embarrassed him. “He saved me. But he was injured. The only thing he said to me was ‘they're after me’. After that he passed out.”
He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender when he saw Rachel’s eyes widen.
“I helped him, patched him up, but the old woman’s people found us. That’s when I met her. But she didn’t care about me.”
Ed lowered his hands, apparently concluding that despite appearances Rachel was not about to attack him.
“He meant the old woman was after him, I think. When I first saw her all she cared about was where he was.”
Ed shuffled uneasily, as though he had just realised he had said too much.
Rachel’s eyes narrowed.
“You told her.”
Ed began to shake, staring around the room as if expecting everyone to jump him. His pleading gaze settled on John, but John was oblivious, focused only on staring at Rachel.
“Look, she was torturing me, okay? She had her son fucking cutting me open. What was I supposed to do? I don’t even know what the fuck is going on.”
Ed seemed surprised at the ferocity in his tone. He spat the words out like darts.
“Rachel,” John said evenly, cutting through the thickening atmosphere. “We saw Jason die. We all saw it.”
“I didn’t,” Rachel snapped. “I saw him get overrun by the Infected. That’s all. I didn’t see him die. Did you? Actually see it?”
John replayed the scene in his mind. Saw Jason swinging as the Infected swarmed past him. Saw the big man knocked to the ground, disappearing under the herd as it converged on the boat they had used to escape from Aberystwyth. Didn’t see anything else. He snapped his mouth shut.
“I assumed he was dead because the Infected kill people, because that’s all I thought they did," Rachel said. "But now I know they don’t kill everything. They didn’t kill the girl Darren had tied up outside.”
“But she was infected…” Michael said, and his gaze flitted from Rachel to John, his eyes widening as understanding crept across his mind. “The rat…”
The truth of what had happened in the small farmhouse outside St. Davids hung in the air between the three of them. Jason had been bitten, and he hadn’t turned. At the time, none of them had known what it meant.
Ed opened his mouth to say something, but seeing the stunned look on their faces, he thought better of it.
“The rat,” Rachel said, nodding her head vigorously.
John knew what was coming even before Rachel opened her mouth to speak again, and he felt a crushing weight land on him. They were supposed to be running away. For all they knew, the power station on Anglesey was already beginning to melt down. John had no idea how long such a facility would last without electricity; he did not want to find out.
“I have to go get him,” Rachel said, and John’s head dropped.
30
Persuading Rachel not to drop everything and sprint for the boat immediately wasn’t easy, and John was grateful that for once he found Michael in full agreement with him. They needed supplies, John argued; needed to secure Caernarfon before they launched any kind of an attack on what John suspected was a larger force that had taken up a secure position and were most likely expecting company.
In the end, John was able to penetrate Rachel’s seething anger and determination by grabbing her shoulders and staring into her eyes and promising her that if Jason was alive, he would bring him back to the castle.
Have I let you down? John had finally snapped, drilling his gaze into her until she shook her head. The tears in her eyes made John’s heart ache, but her pain was necessary. Charging off to Anglesey half-cocked would be a disaster. A full frontal attack - even if they were ultimately successful - would mean people dying. Lots of people. John could only think of one way to avoid the carnage, just one crazy way, and if he told Rachel what he was planning, it would fall apart before it began.
You must be insane, John, he thought as the plan formed in his mind, and the notion struck him as almost funny. It seemed the only way to survive now was by being crazy.
Only when John said that every minute they wasted arguing was another minute Jason was being held by a psychopath did Rachel agree to raiding Caernarfon first. John felt bad for pushing her buttons, knowing full well what the word psychopath would do to her, but the end justified the means. If the vague plan he was working on bore fruit, there was a chance he could get Jason - if indeed it was Jason - without bloodshed.
When Rachel had a moment to think about her brother potentially being held by someone like Darren - or worse, Victor - she agreed to follow John’s lead.
John hurriedly outlined a plan to get everyone that could walk into Caernarfon, grabbing everything they might possibly need - food, fuel, batteries. Anything that looked like it might make a noise that might damage the Infected. Weapons. Blades. John didn’t think they would be able to find any firearms in Caernarfon, but he told them to find the police station as quickly as possible and raid it. Riot gear, nightsticks, tasers, pepper spray. If they were really lucky, the police might even have a gun or two. Caernarfon had a moderately large population, maybe enough for the police to require firepower. Failing that, he said, everybody was to keep their eyes peeled for anything
that could be used as a ranged weapon.
He drew up a shopping list using a pen from the castle’s tiny gift shop - which had long ago been cleared of traditional Welsh fudge and cookies, and passed out copies. Michael, Ray and Shirley looked over it carefully, and added items of their own.
Once the castle was stocked with everything that looked like it might be useful, John proposed to lead a team to Anglesey, while those he left behind would prepare as best they could for journeying north to find a boat large enough to get them all away from the UK.
If his assumptions about Fred Sullivan were correct, John believed there would be a country out there that remained untouched by Project Wildfire, and John was willing to bet that country was Australia; remote enough to be safe as the world burned, with an advanced infrastructure and plenty of space to rebuild.
Australia was virtually self-sustaining: very little of its food was imported, and the country had always maintained ultra-strict immigration controls. It was exactly where John would go if he was in Sullivan’s shoes, even if it meant turning up in Sydney harbour with a fleet of battleships and declaring war.
Getting to the other side of the planet for the people living in Caernarfon Castle was most likely all but impossible, but John didn’t care about that. For now, just being at sea would mean safety. If they had to find some tiny island somewhere and live like castaways, so be it.
As John, Michael, Ray and Shirley planned, Rachel paced furiously.
“We get it,” she eventually snapped. “Loot everything. Can we just go and do it?
John nodded.
“Ray, go gather up everyone that can walk,” he said. “Get them all to the gate. Don’t tell them anything yet, just tell them…uh, tell them Michael needs to speak to them, okay?”
Ray delivered a mock salute and left the room at pace. Moments later John heard him calling people to him.
Michael looked at John with a question forming in his eyes.
“They all trust you,” John said with a shrug. “It’s better coming from you. Don’t mention Jason, though. I don’t think many people will be keen to risk their lives for someone they’ve never met. Cross that bridge when we get to it. In the meantime, I’ll find something we can use as a raft to cross the river.”
*
They coalesced at the gate slowly, as though reluctantly drawn together by a weak magnetism they could not resist.
Michael wheeled himself in front of the group that Ray had gathered together with his mind racing. If Rachel and Linda were right, the people waiting for him to speak looked to him as some sort of leader. He couldn't help but wonder how many of them he would end up getting killed.
Michael counted seventeen in addition to the group that had just returned to the castle. Ray had obviously decided the rest were of little use - either too young, like Claire and Pete, or perhaps too valuable, like Linda, the closest thing they had to a medic; or simply too broken. Some of the people at the castle were lost, as Jason Roberts had been, trapped inside their heads by horrors only they could see.
They all stared at Michael silently, their faces a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. Thanks to Darren Oliver’s repopulation programme the group was mostly young and female; thanks to John’s training at least a handful of them looked something other than flat-out terrified.
Michael stared at the gate, wondering dimly how many times in the past people had cowered behind it, waiting to rush outside to a battle that might be their last.
Not this time, he thought. This time we are ready. This time we survive.
“We have a window,” Michael said, lifting his voice just enough for them all to hear him clearly. “The Infected have cleared out of Caernarfon for now, but they will be back, so we have to act fast.”
A nervous murmur ran through the small crowd.
“We’re going to raid Caernarfon. We need food and weapons. Fuel and batteries. If you see anything that makes noise, get it. Air-horns, fireworks, anything. But be careful. The streets are clear but the buildings may not be. So nobody goes anywhere alone. We have four high-priority targets, so you’ll be divided into four teams, one each for the police station, hardware store, grocery store and the pharmacy. Get everything from the pharmacy. A few of you know where these places are. If you don’t, talk to someone who does. Move quick, and stay quiet. And be smart. If you so much as think a building looks dangerous, you stay out, okay? Look for movement inside, look for blood inside. Keep an eye out for anything that doesn’t feel right. Don’t risk your life. This is about getting whatever we can, and getting back in one piece.”
Michael looked around the faces gathered in front of him and saw terror and desperation looming among them. Most of them hadn’t set foot outside the castle since they got there. Many of them, he knew, would be replaying in their minds memories of the last time they were outside the walls, dwelling on the horrors they had witnessed when the virus originally decimated Caernarfon and forced them into the hands of a man who saw them only as an opportunity for breeding.
“Wear thick clothes,” Michael continued. “Arm yourselves with whatever you can. Remember everything John has taught you all about fighting these things. If you need to, you run. You’ve got ten minutes to get ready, and then you go.”
Michael fell silent. He was sure there were a hundred other things he could say, sure that the people wanted to hear another hundred things that might give them courage, but there was little point. Once they were out in the open and vulnerable, no pep talk or training would help them. He knew all too well that encountering the Infected and surviving was a matter of instinct and luck. All he could do was pray that the decoy had worked, and that the Infected weren’t already circling back to the town.
The crowd stared at him expectantly, and his mind went blank.
“Go!” Rachel yelled, and they hurried away in fraught silence.
31
John was planning something. Rachel saw it in his eyes and his stiff body language; saw it in the hesitant way he spoke to her as they got ready to leave.
He had found a large slab of wood in the castle among the pieces that Darren had collected to have his people build shelters within the courtyard. The skeleton of the building Darren had visualised was still in place, but work on it had stopped the minute the man’s dark heart was stilled.
The wood was sturdy, and large enough for five people at a time to clamber on board. John said it would serve just fine as a raft.
Michael had volunteered to be the one that would pull the raft back and forth across the river using the rope John had already set up. John looked as dubious as Rachel felt, but Michael insisted that as long as he left the wheelchair behind he could sit on the raft and keep hold of the rope, and he would be safe enough.
Everybody had to pull their weight, Michael said, including himself, and nobody appeared to feel there was time to debate it. If the man fell into the river, he’d have to claw his way to shore by himself, legs or not.
Once Michael was securely on the raft, he pulled the first group across. As supplies were brought back to the river, it would be Michael’s job - along with Linda, Claire and Pete - to shuttle them across to the castle and come back for more.
The first group to cross included both John and Rachel. Once across, they began to scour the narrow, crooked streets as the others filtered across the river, and by the time everyone was standing nervously on the fringes of Caernarfon, John seemed satisfied that there was no immediate danger. With his voice barely rising above a whisper, he began to divide the group into smaller teams. Ray, Shirley, John and Rachel would each take care of four or five people.
Rachel watched John carefully, and couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t meet her eyes when he informed her they would be going their separate ways.
What are you up to?
After a quick glance around everybody to make sure they were ready, John nodded and scampered off toward the police station. Ray took his team toward the hardware store i
n the centre of Caernarfon. Shirley’s team headed for the grocery store nearby. Rachel got the pharmacy. She had been there once before, hurriedly picking up items to patch John up after he had been attacked by a group of Darren’s men and nearly beaten to death.
She watched John leading his group away at a light canter, and her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
*
The police station was small, and according to Emma it sat at the northern end of Caernarfon. As John ran, he stayed alert for movement, and kept glancing at the girl, waiting until she nodded that he was moving in the right direction before setting off again.
The ground was painted with blood and gore; John heard the whimpering of the young women who ran with him as they passed each body, and he prayed they wouldn’t crack and start screaming. He had a plan that he thought might just avoid bloodshed altogether, but it relied on getting in and out of Caernarfon quickly, and avoiding Rachel.
Pursing his lips, he upped the pace.
*
Ray had the furthest to travel, and the largest group. The hardware store, which he had been assured was bigger than he might expect from a town like Caernarfon, was located deep in the maze of winding streets. He had a team of four men - including Glyn and Ed, who he kept a close eye on - and one woman. Most of the other teams were primarily female.
As John had divided up the four teams, he explained away the decision to allocate most of the men to one team with a straightforward answer: Ray’s team would be doing most of the heavy lifting.
When Ray’s brow had furrowed in response, John pressed a crumpled piece of paper into his hand. Several items were listed, most underlined. Ray had looked at it in confusion.
“I thought I already had a list,” Ray said dubiously as he scanned the items.
“Now you have a new one,” John replied curtly.
Trauma (Wildfire Chronicles Vol. 5) Page 18