by Ryan Casey
Then, she curled up under the armpit of the gargling, choking man, and she closed her eyes, letting the last warmth of his body drift into her.
Her teeth stopped chattering at last.
Chapter Four
Riley crept slowly up the pathway. He felt cold rain start to fall on him as he kept his eyes up ahead, right on the torchlight in the distance. He could creep up on the group with the baseball bats. Sure, they looked like right chavs, but he’d grown adept to dealing with the undead so they wouldn’t be much of a problem. Not if he played this right.
After running in the darkness for quite a while, losing all track of time, his legs growing weaker and weaker, he noticed that the torchlight up ahead had stopped. It was growing closer. Which meant either the group up ahead were slowing down or they’d stopped to rest completely.
He hoped for the latter. That’s when he’d take the torch. That’s when he’d take it, then go.
He kept low as he moved further up the slushy, muddy path. He could hear the branches of the trees scratching against one another in the wind, but he told himself it was just that: the wind. It wasn’t the creatures. He knew what the creatures sounded like. What they always sounded like, whenever they were coming. And he knew what they smelled like too. It wasn’t them. He had to stay focused. He had to get this done. Nobody had to get hurt. Enough people had been hurt for the day.
As he got closer to the torch, he noticed it was on the ground. It was shining up into the sky, like an artificial campfire. He couldn’t see the group of three at all. He couldn’t hear them either. Where were they? They wouldn’t just leave a torch lying around. Something must’ve happened. Something bad.
He slowed down as he approached the heavy duty torch. The ground beneath him was flattening, which meant he must be getting to the top of the Arnside Knott. Fingers crossed, he’d see the bunker at the other side, over towards Grange. He’d see it, and he’d be able to push forward. It might’ve fallen. It might already be taken. But it was the only safe place left that he knew of. The only place with food and shelter. He needed to get there. It’s the only option he had.
And this torch was going to light up his path.
He crept through the damp grass and approached the torch. His heart raced. The place was quiet. So quiet. Where was the trio he’d been following? They’d been right ahead of him for so long. He hadn’t heard any screams or any struggles. And they wouldn’t just leave a torch. Would they?
Fuck.
He reached out for the torch. Just grabbing it, a wave of tension released right through his body, right down his spine. His heart picked up in pace, though. He had to move now. He couldn’t take any risks. Something was off about this situation. Something was too easy about it.
He shone the light up ahead. More trees. Except these trees were below him. He’d climbed the hill—fuck. He’d actually done it. And now he had a torch. Now he had a way of lighting his path and actually finding his way to this bunker. He started to jog again. Started to jog as the cold rain grew heavier, splashing against his face.
And then he tripped. He felt the weight of his body tumble down, the damp ground splatting all over his arms and face. Fresh dirt filled his mouth with an earthy, manure taste, which he promptly spat out.
What had he tripped on?
He lifted the torch up and looked ahead again. Nothing. No—something. Something moving up ahead. A shadow in the trees. A creature? Or was it—?
“The fuck you think yer doing, ey?”
The voice came from behind him. It sent shivers down his arms. It was a voice he recognised. A voice he’d heard when he’d been hiding behind that tree when he’d first seen the group of hooded, baseball-bat wielding youths.
He turned around. Shone the light behind him.
“Think yer gonna wanna put that light down, bro,” the lanky, hooded guy said. He had a pale, thin face, and a mischievous smile. Beside him, the girl in the red hood grinned. So too did the shorter, dark haired guy who’d spoken initially. All of them held their metal baseball bats by their side. All of the baseball bats were covered in blood.
Riley started to shift to his feet. He’d have to run. He’d have to outrun them. He’d have to—
“Don’t fuckin’ think about takin’ another step,” the dark-haired lad said. He spat to the floor then walked towards Riley, his baseball bat raised. “You try and take summat of ours, you don’t just walk away, hear me?”
“I thought—I thought it was just here. I—I didn’t see you,” Riley said, his words weak. He didn’t like chavs. Couldn’t look them in the eye properly since they’d made him do a funny dance in Preston town centre once, all for staring at them the wrong way. Avoided most sinister looking hooded people ever since. “I didn’t—I didn’t—”
“Bullshit,” the girl said. “I saw that perv followin’ us ages ago. ‘Ave a good stare at me ass did you? Plannin’ to ‘ave a good go on it when I was sleeping?”
The two guys laughed as the girl smacked her hand against her backside.
“Seriously,” Riley said. His chest started to tighten. No. Not now. Not after all this time. Keep it under control. They’re just a bunch of fucking kids. “I can—I can give you this torch back.”
“Oh you will give us that fucking torch back,” the dark-haired guy said. He squared up to Riley. Pointed the end of his metal baseball bat right in his bony chest. Riley could smell the blood on the end of it right from here. “We’ll tek it back. As well as your fuckin’ teeth.”
The dark-haired guy pulled back his baseball bat back.
“Please! I—I know a place,” Riley said. He stumbled back, the torch still in hand.
The dark-haired guy lowered the baseball bat. Lanky and Round-Arse looked on with stupid grins on their brattish faces. “What d’you mean you know a place?
Riley took a few steadying breaths right into his stomach. “A—a safe place. Somewhere…somewhere we can go. Somewhere with food and shelter and…and…”
The dark-haired guy looked at the lanky guy and the girl and raised his eyebrows. “What d’you reckon, ey? Think he’s bullshittin’ or bein’ serious?”
“He’s shittin’ it, look at him,” the lanky guy said. “Fucking shittin’ his pants. Like fuck does he know a place.”
The dark-haired guy shrugged. He rested on his metal baseball bat like it was a walking stick. “Looks like my mate doesn’t trust you. Besides, what place is better than out ‘ere, ey? My mum always used to tell me that I should spend more time out in the fresh air instead of on me computer games and shit. Before I bashed her sweet old brains in. But now I get her point. It’s decent. We get to go where we want. Take what we want. So why would we go to some bullshit safe place?”
The dark-haired guy started to walk back to Riley again. Riley backed off. Every backwards step he took in the slippy, slushy mud, the group took two steps. They were gaining on him. Getting closer.
He realised then that this was one of those moments. Those moments where he’d have to try something. Those moments where if he didn’t try something, he’d die. The realisation flashed before him. It lit up in front of him. He’d have to try, and he might die. But he’d definitely die if he didn’t try something.
“You can have your fucking torch,” Riley said.
Then, as the dark-haired guy got within a few feet of him, Riley switched the torch off and threw it right at the dark-haired guy’s face.
He heard the crack of the torch glass as it made contact with his face. He shouted out and fell to the ground as the lanky guy and the girl froze in the darkness.
“The fuck just ‘appened?” the girl shouted.
“Kellett! The fuck just—”
The lanky guy didn’t finish speaking because Riley was behind him and dragging him to the ground.
Riley held his hand around the lanky guy’s mouth. He pulled him to the ground, then when he knew he had
him down, he pressed his shin against the guy’s neck, pushing as hard as he could as the guy scratched with one hand, threw his baseball bat in every direction with the other.
Riley waited. Waited for his opportunity. Waited for the lanky guy to let go of the baseball bat and reach for his suffocating neck.
Almost let go.
Almost.
Then…the baseball bat dropped to the lanky guy’s side.
Riley shifted his shin from the lanky guy’s neck and fumbled for the baseball bat in the darkness. He could hear the girl and the dark-haired guy shouting to one another somewhere nearby. He knew they were close. He knew he wouldn’t have long.
But he was focused. He had to do this. He had to.
He grabbed the baseball bat and he plummeted it into the lanky guy’s head.
He heard a crack. A crack, like a golf ball being smacked by a club.
Then he hit it again. And again. And again. Just to be sure.
“Andy,” the dark-haired guy mumbled. He crept in Riley’s direction as blood dripped off the end of the baseball bat in Riley’s hand. “Andy, you get him bro? You get the fucker?”
Riley lifted the baseball bat and held it over his shoulder.
He took a deep breath. Let the fear—the adrenaline—completely take over him.
He was doing what he had to do. He was just doing what he had to do to survive.
Chapter Five
“Sleep well, soldier?”
Pedro opened his eyes. The light from the sky above burned right through them, making him close them straight away. He could smell something burning. Fuck—was that food he could smell? Rabbit, or something? He imagined the taste of it in his mouth. Imagined the succulent, tender juiciness of it. How he missed good old-fashioned campfire rabbit.
He opened his eyes again and sat up. The stones lining the building’s roof had tattooed into his skin. He blinked a few times, got the sleep out of his eyes, then turned to the fire where the smell was coming from.
Chris, Barry, Tamara and her son, Josh, were all sitting around the fire. They were tucking into small chunks of tender looking meat, smiles on their faces as the fire smouldered. There was a half-eaten rabbit sitting above it on a stick.
“Saved you a bite, don’t worry,” Chris said, smiling and nodding at Pedro. “You can have a bit of mine, to be honest. I’m an acting vegetarian. Well, I was, before the world fell on its behind and forced me back to meat-eating.”
“There’s nothing stopping you still being a veggie,” Tamara said, nibbling a piece of the rabbit as Josh sat between her legs, smile on his face. “You should be thriving on a diet of leaves and stuff.”
“Protein’s a valuable commodity now,” Chris said. “Not something we stumble across every day out here in the wild. Got to make the most of it.”
Pedro sat down in the space between Chris and Tamara. Tamara smiled at him, but lowered her brown eyes back to the rabbit. It was progress. She hadn’t been all that talkative with him since he’d joined them yesterday. But fuck—would he be talkative if somebody just came along and joined his group? He could hardly expect a welcome party.
“Where’d you find it?” Pedro asked, tugging a piece of stringy meat from the side of the rabbit’s belly. “Can’t imagine it was running across the roof.”
“Down by the road,” Barry muttered. He kept his gaze on the fire. His eyes were wide. He didn’t smile, or even acknowledge Pedro’s presence.
“Well it’s a good find,” Pedro said. “Nice one, mate.”
Barry grunted. Took another bite out of the rabbit.
Pedro raised his eyebrows and looked at Chris and Tamara. Both of them just looked back and smiled, the group descending to silence. This big beardy bastard Barry was proving a bit of a nightmare. He’d hardly said a word since Pedro had met up with this group. At least Tamara smiled. That was an acknowledgement of his presence, for one thing.
Pedro stuffed the rabbit meat in his mouth. The smoky flavour hit him immediately. His tastebuds were on fire. “God, this is good,” he said, tugging a bit more of the meat from the side of the cooked rabbit.
“Thought you might like it,” Chris said, grinning. “Little Josh turned his pug-nose up when we first caught up, but he seems to be enjoying it now, eh lad?”
Josh lowered his mouth and widened his eyes. “I told you already, I don’t have a pug-nose!”
Chris laughed. “Well, it is a little bit puggish. Maybe one of the zombies will snap it off for you.”
Tamara tutted and rubbed Josh’s curly brown hair. “He’s only teasing you,” she said. “Ignore him.”
Barry didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile. Just ate and kept quiet.
Pedro took another bite of the rabbit. The smell, the flavours—they brought all kinds of memories back to him. “Reminds me of being back in the army. One night—survival training again—me and a few others went out hunting. Absolutely awful at it, I was. But I remember I stayed out for hours and hours, even after the others had gone to bed. They’d cooked their rabbits and eaten already, even offered me some, but I just stayed out there. And then, when it was turning light, I saw this little rabbit wandering up to my trap and right then, I caught it.” He chuckled. “The relief when I saw that little furry critter’s neck break. Almost wrong.”
“Bet that tasted good when it got cooking,” Chris said.
“It didn’t,” Pedro said. “That’s the thing. The little creature had myxomatosis, or whatever it’s called. Tasted like the most bitter, horrible meat I’d tried in my life. Like a piece of ham left out on the units for days in a hot room. Bad stomach for a while to say the least. But I was still proud. Still proud that I caught that rabbit. That I did it myself. Anyway, I’m blabbering.”
Josh’s little blue eyes stared at Pedro in amazement. “You were a soldier? Did you fire a tank? Did you—did you fight any baddies?”
Pedro chuckled. “More than you’d believe, kiddo. More than you’d believe. So…you people have just been living like this for the last few weeks?”
“Pretty much,” Tamara said. “We were one of the only ones to get out of our caravan site in Lancaster. So just kind of stuck together. And then we heard about Manchester, so we figured we’d give that a try.”
“Manchester,” Pedro said, wiping the rabbit juices from the corners of his mouth. “What’s in Manchester?”
Tamara looked at Chris. Chris’s eyes dropped. “You haven’t told him yet?”
Chris shrugged. “Guess I was waiting for Pedro to decide whether he wanted to join us or not first.”
Pedro looked around at Chris, Barry, Tamara and Josh. They weren’t Riley and the others, but they were something. They were company. And they seemed nice. Whether they were true survivors, well. That was another matter. But shit—they were here. So they must have something going for them.
“What’s in Manchester?” Pedro repeated.
Chris cleared his throat. “We picked up a WiFi signal a few days ago. This massive house with servers of its own. We actually managed to get the Internet. For a few minutes, the lights of the outside world flicked on again.”
Pedro licked his lips. The succulent taste of the rabbit was still fresh in his mouth. He wanted so badly to have another bite of it. “And what did you see?”
“Well, that’s the scary thing,” Chris said. “All the main websites—BBC, Sky News, The Guardian. They all just stopped reporting a few days after all this happened. Foreign ones too. The New York Times. Forbes. Huffington Post. All just stopped, just like that.”
A twinge of inevitability flared up in Pedro’s stomach. “So it’s global then.”
“But I did some digging,” Chris said, ignoring Pedro’s comment. “I found a list of safe places—Living Zones, as they’re calling them. And the nearest one is right here in the north in Manchester. Then the house, it…well. It became less safe, let’s say.” His eyes flicked to Josh, who cri
nged as he poked at the rabbit’s dead head. “So I guess we’ve just been heading that way since. And that’s when we bumped into you.”
Living Zones. Pedro thought back to the barracks. “What makes you so sure this place is even still around? Like, if it was reported weeks ago, then what makes you sure it’s still standing?”
Chris smiled. “I got a chance to search Wordpress for blogs relating to these Living Zones before the house got raided by zombies. Turns out this place in Manchester has some blog set up. And that blog was posting several days after everywhere else stopped—the big news sites, and the like. So that tells me this place lasted. Sure, the Internet fell, but this place survived.”
“Or it survived two extra days,” Barry muttered.
“I have to say he has a point,” Pedro said. “Dunno how you can be so sure.”
“Do you have a better suggestion?” Chris said. His smile had dropped. He cleared his throat. “Last night you told me that there were no safe places anymore. I don’t believe that. I think there’s somewhere out there looking to start things up again. Somewhere out there already starting things up again. For all we know, it could be in the next town, or the next village. We just don’t know. The fall of the Internet, cell phones, all that, it’s made the world a much bigger place. This infection could have been controlled—contained—everywhere but this very road we’re on, and we wouldn’t know. Not saying it has. Just saying.”
Pedro looked over at the street. There were a few lone creatures staggering through, one in a checkered shirt much like one he used to own, another with a big round belly, now sagging.
“You can stay out here and you can never find out,” Chris said. “And that’s fine. That’s an honest, legitimate choice. Or you can come with us. I know…I know you must’ve had bad experiences with other groups in the past. It’s written all over your face. But not everyone’s bad. Not everyone has a negative agenda.”
“No,” Pedro said. He looked Chris square in his eyes. “When you’ve been through the things I’ve been through, you realise that everyone has to be bad, bruv. Everyone has to have a negative agenda when it suits.”