by Luke Duffy
He was terrified, but Jake had been his friend; the least he could do was ensure that the poor man would not come back as one of the dead to roam the earth, feeding on the living. Lee took a deep breath and nodded encouragingly as he steeled himself for what he was about to do.
"Okay, okay," he whispered.
He reached out with his right index finger, feeling for the safety catch on his rifle and clicking it to 'fire.’ He was ready. He would burst in, take care of Jake and then run for the main doors. After that, he had no idea what he was going to do, but he would keep on running until he was far from the park.
The weapon was brought up and pulled tightly into his shoulder. His left hand reached down and gripped the brass knob of the old door, twisting it slowly, careful not to make a noise and alert the dead to his presence.
The handle clicked, almost inaudibly, but in Lee's mind and with the house so deathly silent, it sounded like an explosion erupting in the still air.
With fear gripping him and his own voice screaming inside his head, Lee barged his shoulder against the solid wooden door, forcing it open with a crash, as it collided with the chest of drawers to the left of it, scattering bottles and other objects and sending them rolling across the floor.
The door shook and the echo of the impact reverberated around the room as Lee jumped over the threshold, his teeth gritted, a look of wild terror and aggression on his face.
He roared as he scanned his weapon to the left, bringing it into the aim and pointing it at the two figures struggling on the bed before him.
"No," a voice screamed from amongst the tangle of limbs and sheets.
Lee had almost fired, but his finger soon dropped from the trigger as he looked on in horror at the scene that panned out before him.
His rifle lowered, his left hand losing its grip on the stock of the weapon. His right hand remained folded around the pistol grip, almost releasing his grasp on it and dropping it to the floor as his mouth fell open and his body became limp.
Lee remained staring at the bed in complete shock for a moment, unable to comprehend what he saw. His head swam and he could make no sense of the jumble of thoughts and feelings that suddenly converged on him all at once.
The two faces stared back at him, their eyes bulging with shock and fear as they watched Lee turn from a snarling, rifle-wielding maniac to a bumbling, gawking mannequin, frozen to the spot.
After a moment, the initial astonishment of the sight began to settle in Lee's system, allowing him to close his mouth and regain a degree of composure. He recovered his grip on the rifle.
The two figures in the bed remained motionless, looking at Lee with wide, bulging eyes, awaiting his response. After a while, when Lee did not say anything, they glanced at each other, embarrassed and terrified.
"Lee," Jake began, "it's not what you think."
Jake's words finally punched a hole through the opaque and disjointed reality that seemed to have shrouded and completely enveloped Lee.
He blinked and adjusted his stance, relaxing his knees, but regaining control of his shoulders as he brought them up from the slump into which they had drooped.
"Yeah, Lee, it isn't what you think," the other voice in the bed assured him desperately. "We uh…we uh…"
Lee looked at them both in turn, as they stumbled on their own words.
"What?" he asked finally. "You mean it was an accident and you both slipped?"
Jake looked at the person next to him, unable to think of an answer or excuse that could explain the situation that Lee had walked in on.
Without another word, Lee turned and walked from the room, heading for the stairs and shouting at the top of his lungs.
"Marcus, Steve," he hollered over the balcony. "Come and see. You won't believe what I've just found."
He bounded along the corridor and turned onto the stairs, leaping down them and taking three steps at a time as he continued to shout excitedly.
Steve arrived at the foot of the stairs as Lee was halfway down, still calling for the attention of anyone within earshot of his voice.
Steve looked up at him.
"What, Lee? What have you found?"
Lee was grinning from ear to ear, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb and shaking his head.
"I just walked in to Jake's room and found him and…"
Heavy footsteps thudded along the corridor above the stairs, warning Lee that someone was on the way to stop him from telling his tale. He turned to see the large figure arrive at the balcony, wrapped in a sheet.
Lee turned back to Steve and grinned ruefully.
Steve caught sight of the anger and embarrassment that burned in the eyes of Kieran and his brow furrowed as he looked back at Lee, wondering what his friend had now done to upset the big man.
"Oh, you won't believe this one, Steve. I've just caught…"
His report was cut short as the heavy double doors to the entrance of the house flew open with a resounding bang. Carl, Sophie, and Gary entered the foyer, out of breath and looking scared.
Steve turned to them, forgetting about the drama of what was happening above him, between Lee and Kieran.
Gary looked nervously at him and Steve raised an eyebrow as he glanced over his shoulder at Lee, then back at Gary. He was being flanked by dramatic events and he was unsure which to turn his attention to first; the grinning Lee and half-naked Kieran, or the fearful red face and panicked eyes of Gary.
"They're back," Gary finally gasped.
Steve stared back at them. "What do you mean, 'they're back'?"
"Them," Gary nodded to the door, "the…, the…"
"The dead, they're thawing out," Sophie added with urgency as she saw that Gary was struggling with his words.
26
Throughout the day, as the temperature steadily climbed to six degrees above zero, the horde of corpses that surrounded the park slowly reanimated.
By the evening, their cries and wails could be heard even from inside the house as they resumed their assault against the walls and gates with vigour. The clangs and rattles of the iron railings resounded through the air. To the people standing on the roof of the house, it sounded like distant hammers being pounded against steel.
Marcus lowered his binoculars and scanned the length of the wall with his naked eye as the last rays of sunlight slowly faded below the tree line. His face bore the tell-tale signs of concern and he continuously bit down on his lower lip.
"They’ll break through soon," Stu commented at his side, reading his friend’s thoughts.
He stepped forward and rested a foot on the edge of the wall running around the outer rim of the roof, and balanced his rifle across his thigh.
"There's no chance of them getting through or over the walls, but by the sounds of it, that gate isn't going to hold out for much longer, Marcus."
Marcus nodded, squinting in the low sun as he continued to watch the black mass as it surged beyond the walls.
The weeks of freezing and the subsequent thaw seemed to have revitalised them in some way, re-energizing them, and now they threw themselves at the stone of the thick wall and the iron of the failing gate, oblivious to the damage they caused to themselves. Their only thought, goal, was to smash their way through the barricade, regardless of the cost.
Their screams and cries reached fever pitch, sounding like a football stadium holding a cup match in the days before the dead conquered the world and vanquished the human survivors into hiding.
The pulsing throng of reanimated corpses never ceased in their poignant song, which lingered and haunted the air for miles around.
"What are we going to do, bro?" Steve asked.
He had been standing there for a while, just a few paces behind Marcus and Stu, his presence unknown to them as he studied the sight for himself and made his own estimation of the situation.
Without turning to look at him, Marcus nodded with an unintelligible grumble and let out a long sigh of resignation.
"We
need to leave, and as soon as possible, too," he eventually replied as he realised that Stu and Steve were waiting on his judgement.
"How's Hussein's knee and Jim's shoulder and broken arm? Will they be okay to begin the push north?"
Stu looked at him and shrugged.
"They don’t really have much choice, do they? Jim's fine; it was just a flesh wound, really, and he told me to 'fuck off' when I mentioned him going in the heli lift."
He paused as he shamefully remembered that it was he who had put the bullet in Jim in the first place.
"His broken arm is healing well and he won't take no for an answer, Marcus," Stu continued. "Hussein is still having trouble with his knee, but you know him; he's a tough little shit."
"When do we leave? Tonight?" Steve asked as he lit a cigarette and exhaled a long cloud of grey smoke into the cold air.
Marcus shook his head.
"No, we can't risk it in the dark unless we really have to. We'll leave at first light."
Steve looked up to the sky.
"You don't think the cold will come back, I mean the freeze and put them all back to sleep?"
Marcus also scanned the heavens.
"Not yet," he replied pessimistically. "Those dark clouds up there, they're full of rain, not snow. The sun is on its way down and there's no sign of the temperature dropping below zero again, not just yet anyway."
"Right then," Stu huffed, pulling his leg away from the wall and slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "We had better get everyone ready, hadn't we?"
Marcus nodded as he took one last long look at the hordes in the distance.
"Yeah, but don’t cause a panic, and I want the guards doubled up tonight. Use the people earmarked to leave on the heli. The road team will need their rest."
Stu nodded. "Will do, boss."
That night, Marcus struggled to sleep. Many other people in the house suffered from the same; fear and uncertainty fuelled insomnia. Since the dead had revived and pressed their attack against the perimeter with more determination than ever, they all knew that it was only a matter of time before their position became unattainable.
Every member of the group of survivors had been informed of the intention to leave early the next day. Some had argued that it should only be done as a last resort, forcing Marcus to have to enlighten them about the imminent collapse of the gate.
Many faces had turned deathly pale with fright at the revelation from Marcus, and the thought of their sanctuary finally becoming compromised as the gates gave way. An uneasy silence had fallen over the house as people began preparing their belongings and family members for the move north.
Marcus held a final briefing with the group leaders, including Kelly and Joey, who would be transporting the bulk of the survivors in the helicopter. He went over the plan and the rendezvous points where they were to meet.
Fifty kilometres north of the park, on a stretch of highway that, because of its seclusion, Marcus believed would be free of the dead. The rally point was situated on a high point on the map, over thirty kilometres from the nearest city, offering the advantage of long-range visibility.
"You okay with that?" Marcus asked, indicating to Kelly and Joey as they sat drinking coffee and listening to the final briefing.
Kelly nodded as she blew at the steam rising from her cup.
"And if it's compromised or if you don't show?" she asked.
"Move to the second RV," Marcus shrugged with a nonchalant smile, "it's as simple as that. If we don’t show within twenty-four hours, or if it's compromised and there are too many of the pus-bags to handle, move to RV number two."
He ran through the 'actions on', what they should do if the road team did not arrive at the meeting points, what they were to do if they had mechanical failure or had to ditch, and what they should do when they reached the new base.
Marcus and his men, who would be travelling by road, had numerous scenarios and 'actions on' that they had run through repeatedly during the weeks of preparation. None of them expected to make it through unscathed, but as long as they planned for every possibility, they believed they had a fighting chance.
The road team had conducted countless map studies, examining every section of road for their primary and secondary routes. The villages, towns, cities, even the service stations that they would pass close to on their move north, were etched into their minds.
The tension in the house could be cut with a knife and the fear and uncertainty carved into the faces of all was clear to see. Only the children seemed oblivious to what was happening. They seemed more thrilled about the helicopter ride and their excited questions and flitting eyes betrayed their innocence.
Jennifer was asleep, but Marcus remained transfixed by the ceiling, going through the plan in his mind, scrutinizing each phase for flaws or things he had missed.
He forced his body up from the springy mattress, swinging his legs out of the bed, and sat for a moment, massaging his burning eyes with his fingertips. He reached out for his boots, then realised they were already on his feet.
Marcus and Stu had advised everyone in the house to remain fully clothed, including keeping their shoes on, so that they could move at a moment's notice.
He glanced back at his wife as she lay slumbering peacefully, and then stood, picking up his rifle and assault vest from beside the bed and throwing them over his shoulder, as he crept towards the door.
Marcus left the room and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen, with the intention of making some coffee. The powerful aroma of the caffeine-rich drink was already lingering heavily in the air by the time he made it to the bottom step, and as he walked into the kitchen, he saw that there were a number of other people, also suffering from insomnia, already there and drinking from steaming mugs.
"You too?" Gary asked, looking up from the table as he noticed the tall bulky figure of Marcus move into the doorway.
Marcus smiled.
"Yeah, it must be the excitement," he replied jokingly.
The room remained quiet for a while, each in their own thoughts as the man who was about to lead them to their final realm of safety stood silently watching them from the door.
"Do you really think we need to do this, Marcus? I mean, maybe the gates will hold and they will never get in?" Gary asked optimistically.
"Gary," Marcus sighed heavily as he leaned against the doorframe and began massaging his tired eyes again.
"I know, I know," Gary began, waving his hand dismissively, "it's not a case of if, but when the gates collapse."
The room became hushed again as everyone's attention became focused upon the argument that threatened to break out between the two men.
Marcus just nodded and exhaled loudly, fixing Gary with a look that told him, he was not willing to get into a debate over it. The decision had been made to leave.
Gary submitted and remained quiet as he drank his coffee, staring down at the grain of the wooden table and running his finger along its surface. He had many fond memories linked to the old mansion and the park, and he did not relish the idea of abandoning the place. Over the weeks, since he had revealed his intentions of staying, no matter what, Sophie had kept on at him in secret, pleading with him and convincing him that he should go with them. Eventually, he had folded under her influence and agreed that he and his wife would move north with the rest of the group, but he had futilely hoped that the day would never come.
"Here," Stu said, holding out a cup as he walked towards Marcus. "We should go and see what's happening. It'll be first light in a couple of hours."
Marcus stepped through the door and out onto the roof. Immediately, he felt the cold drizzling rain pouring down from above, drenching him almost instantly as the fine spray coated his skin and saturated his bare head, sending rivulets of water running through his hair and down over his face.
It was cold, but the temperature of the rain and air refreshed him somewhat, and his eyes had stopped burning. He stood still in the centre of t
he roof and turned his face up towards the sky, holding out his tongue and relishing the cool rain.
"You should've been up here an hour ago," a voice said to him from the darkness.
"Fun was it?" Marcus replied, still facing the dark clouds and feeling the tiny sting of the rain on his tongue.
Carl shrugged as he approached.
"It came down in buckets and I'm drenched to the bone, mate. I don’t think I will ever dry out."
"Here, get some of this down your neck," Marcus said with a smile as he held out the cup of hot coffee that had already been half diluted with rainwater.
"How is everything?" Stu asked as he began to walk towards the lip of the roof.
"Hard to say," Lisa replied dejectedly.
She was sat on a stool, staring out over the park towards the wall with her shoulders hunched and her body trembling from the cold.
Stu looked down at her and smiled.
"I've spent many a night out in the rain, just like you are now, and wondering why the fuck I was there."
Memories of countless hours, days and weeks, spent in a hole in the ground, sodden with rain and mud as he stood guard over some piece of land that he did not know the name of, or even care about, flooded back to him with a nostalgia that only a soldier could understand.
Lisa looked up at him, pushing a thick strand of waterlogged fringe from in front of her eyes.
"Yeah, but, we know why we're here."
"True."
"It's a shame we lost the CCTV when we did. It would come in very handy right now, just to give us an idea instead of having to risk going down there."
She stood up and began patting and rubbing at the seat of her trousers.
"I hope I get the chance to change my knickers before we leave; they're soaking."
Stu tried hard, but he could not hold his laugh for much longer and it erupted from his throat like a spluttering howl.
Lisa looked on in bewilderment at his red grinning face.
"Simple things for simple minds, eh?"
Marcus continued to stand in the rain, staring out into the darkness, attempting to see through the black night and beyond the wall. He was tempted to go to the gate, to see what condition it was in, but he knew it was too much of a risk.