Beach Town: Apocalypse

by Maxwell-Harrison, Thomas

  Harry saw no other option; his leg was becoming heavier by the minute. The other door to the right had a glass window and Harry could see it led to the fire truck bay. There was one fire truck and it was on mounts with paint cans scattered around it along with cleaning canisters.

  ‘To the changing room,’ Harry said. He limply led the way through the door. The girl pulled James and Sam along. She was rough.

  The door led to a long narrow corridor with rooms on either side. They walked down the hallway, Harry looking for the changing room. At the end of the corridor was a door to the staircase.

  ‘Wait, here,’ the girl said. Her brunette hair swayed around her shoulders. Harry saw a tattoo of a lily pad on her neck.

  She opened a door to the right. Harry had missed it. James stayed close to Harry and Sam leapt forward to the girl. She took Sam’s hand to Harry’s surprise.

  This was surreal. She looked in the room and without hesitation flicked the wall light on. She had good instincts. Harry closed the door behind them.

  The room was small. Two bunkbeds were placed against the far wall. They were neatly made, and Harry could smell the detergent. There was a sink with a mirror above it in the left corner. But no toilet. It made sense to keep the latrines and showers separate. They didn’t want to see or smell that while sleeping.

  Harry walked to the bunkbed, he had to lay down. The itching wound was unbearable hot. The room was spinning. It had to be mild shock; the infection couldn’t have taken hold that quick. He rolled onto the bottom bunk bed.

  ‘You need to get out, or get rid of your leg,’ she said. She dropped her bag on the floor. Harry’s worries were just beginning. She knelt, unzipped the bag and pulled out a seven-inch carving knife. Harry gulped. James and Sam were preoccupied with the kitten.

  She approached the bed and he held his arms up.

  Moments or hours could have passed when he woke up. The bitten leg was no longer in pain, it was agonisingly tight as if someone had wrapped a compressor around it and sucked the air out. Harry’s forearms bulged as he grabbed at his calf.

  James and Sam were nowhere to be seen. Good god what had she done to them. The girl knelt looking at Harry. The bloodied blade on the floor.

  ‘What have you done, where are the kids? Nothing made sense. Fire station was all he recalled and everything else literally shimmered. She was moving her lips. Her hands planted firmly on his shoulder now. She looked very graceful. Sound popped back into his ears.

  ‘I saw them die and turn after being bitten,’ she said, looking at the wound. Harry could feel a sheet bandaged around his calf; it was tight. ‘I’ve had to use the spare bed sheet, there was one under the bunk. I’ve got painkillers, there should be more in the station somewhere. Don’t worry,’ she comforted his shoulder, but he shook it off and pushed her away. Whatever she’s done, she’s going to get it.

  Whatever had happened at the hospital was behind him. Charlie was a no-shit-kind-of-guy. Charlie would have her by the throat. But not Harry. He wouldn’t and couldn’t, it wasn’t in him.

  He tried to move his leg, but it was stiff. ‘Painkillers now,’ he said. ‘Right now. What did you do?’ he asked but she didn’t answer. She just pulled a small brown screw cap bottle from her bag along with a flask. Harry took it immediately and drank. The cool water flushed his throat. She snatched it back.

  ‘Save that, it could be the last fresh water in town. Just take two of these,’ she said. She placed two large red and white multicolour capsules into his palm which he willingly threw back in his throat. He was about to swallow dry when he realised the pills could be anything. Poison, ecstasy, painkillers so strong he would overdose. Before he could panic and protest she pushed the bottle on his lips, and he swigged them. It’s too late now. He needed to trust her more and stop worrying about mundane things.

  The painkillers were fast acting and kicked in moments later, placebo effect and a good one. An empty stomach and little water didn’t help.

  The girl walked to the door and opened it, James and Sam stepped in with the kitten. Harry was angered she left them outside, but it was for their safety. She walked back to Harry looking down at him.

  ‘I cut away the bite wound so you won’t be able to walk properly for a while. Maybe a few hours or days, I’m not sure. I’ve never done this before,’ she said. She grabbed her bag and sat on the bunk parallel to Harry. Harry heard her unzip the bag and gathered the mental energy to lift himself up. He leant on the back wall. He could see her writing in a notepad. Her pen had a pink feather on the end. The kids played in the corner next to the sink.

  The room was dazzlingly bright. Harry had a bout of vertigo. He leaned over the bunk to check the wound. She had wrapped and knotted it extremely tight. But it covered the mess he didn’t want to see. Whoever she was, she was smart. She had cut away the infection, she had saved him, but Harry had a suspicion something inhuman lurked within her. She continually kicked the kitten away and the way she dragged the kids in the building earlier was uncalled for. She could have carried them or told them to run.

  There was little chance of getting to the North of the island and zero chance of escaping via the motorway bridge. The town was overrun, the city was overrun, and London was falling. The fire station would suffice for now.

  ‘Do you think I would have become one of those creatures,’ he said. She was lost in her notepad and then he added, ‘do you?’

  ‘I was up reading when they invaded the street, I tried calling the police but there was no answer,’ she said. Typical crisis response. Harry knew cutting the phone signals was ridiculous, there was no way they were planning to help people after disconnecting them. The government could have at least left the WIFI on, but nothing. It could only mean one thing. The news was correct, and London and Europe were falling to the dead. Harry wasn’t sure about the rest of the world, but he prayed United Nations or NATO would get involved and save them all. Considering how quick the superpowers are at responding, the fact they hadn’t was terrifying, this could be global. ‘Yes, I do.’

  She flicked through the pages of her notebook. It had a brown leather cover and sealed with a magnet lock that popped over the edge.

  ‘How did you know that cutting the bite would help?’ Harry asked. She shrugged. She rustled her hair with her hand. Her locks swaying. She unbuttoned the top of her jacket and it revealed a blue shirt.

  After reading the letter from Molly he had no time to process his feelings. The attraction to the girl was uncanny. Was it the lack of sex? He remembered all the sleepless nights and early awakenings where nothing occurred. How long had that gone on for? Years.

  ‘I was on the motorway a few days ago, I think that’s when this thing started,’ she said. ‘They died and came back. The dead people came back to life and attacked the living, they bit them and then they rose and then it happened all over again and again and again…’ she burst into tears and wiped the tears away with her finger.

  Harry could see her pain. It was hard to interpret before but now it was clear. She was on the motorway and he had no doubt they were there on the same day. She may have been closer to town. She sobbed. The kids looked. Harry didn’t want them to see anymore distress.

  ‘You’ll survive, Harry said. ‘We’ll be able to get through today and find someone who can tell us what to do, we can escape this nightmare.’

  She placed the notepad on the bed. Harry saw it was full of writing, probably a diary. Harry pushed himself onto the stone floor and slid across to her. His leg burned.

  ‘Calm down. We’re the adults here and we need to stay strong for the children, please,’ he said. She stopped sobbing.

  The kids were teasing the kitten’s tail.

  She reached into her bag and pulled out some tissues. Harry wanted to search the bag and find out what the tablets were, because although they looked official it seemed they had done nothing for the pain. There was a possible infection to worry about. If he had a doctor’s degree the whole
situation would be easier. Heck a psychologist degree would better help him understand the woman.

  He was a good man and good to his son. But Molly? Was he really that emotionally unavailable as to not understand her feelings? This is deep stuff. He understood not everything could be rationale or blamed on him.

  ‘You’d be upset if you saw what I saw. People, parents being ripped to shreds and then coming after you,’ she sobbed but managed to keep it decent.

  He couldn’t protect James, and he supposed Sam, forever. Eventually they would know of the harsh reality of the world. James would have no choice; he would have to grow up in this horrible new world. Harry still had to tell him about his mother. Before the dead began to rise needing a solicitor applied, but not now, not at least for a while. Molly was probably dead. If London was going down then Molly’s mother’s house wasn’t safe, they were close to the docks. Ships frequented the docks from London.

  It wasn’t upsetting coming to accept Molly may be dead. What was upsetting was the note about her leaving. Death could be mourned, and he could move on. But relationships couldn’t without some decent whiskey. If she had become a flesh-eating ghoul, he’d have payback to exact, if not, he’d exact a mouthful of shit at her. He inhaled and his heartrate slowed.

  ‘Did they get your parents?’ Harry asked. She obviously lived at home. She was youthful wearing a sci-fi shirt. The thought he fancied her sickened him, if she was a teenager. He was twenty years older at least.

  She took another tissue from the pack and wiped her cheeks before suckling on the water bottle. Harry watched it drain past two hundred millilitre’s and held his hand to stop her. ‘Like you said, best save it.’ She laughed and put the bottle and tissues back in the backpack.

  ‘I was reading when they came down the street. I had my bag packed after seeing the news about the city,’ she said. Harry hadn’t given much thought to preparing. ‘I prepared and I went downstairs while my parents were asleep. I grabbed the biggest knife I could find, that thing,’ she gasped, pointing to the large bloody knife on the floor. Harry turned and picked the knife up and slid it under the bunk, he didn’t want the children playing with it. ‘I didn’t have time to wake them. They broke in the house before I could, so I ran back upstairs and climbed out of my window. They were everywhere. I jumped up onto the roof, it was soaking, and I jumped onto the neighbour’s roof where I heard the crying. I saw them crazy people everywhere and waited to see what I could do. I thought they spotted me, so I laid down. It was pitch black on that roof, even the birds scared me. Then I saw you, on your roof. I waved but you couldn’t see me. Then when you jumped down and ran across the road I thought you were coming to help me. I prayed that you would help me. You didn’t help me. My parents were dead, and I was alone, so I decided to climb to the window and help, otherwise I would still be stuck there,’ she panted and picked the notebook up and began reading it.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t see you, I was afraid,’ Harry consoled. The moment was descending rapidly into depressing silence that went on, and on.

  The kids giggled and the kitten was clawing at the oversized pants James wore. He had no clue what to say to her. Was this it for him? Dumped from a marriage and stuck to an awkward twenty something.

  ‘How old are you?’ he asked. The answer surprised him.

  ‘Nineteen, and yes I know I still live with my parents but I’m going to move out soon’, she said, emphasizing the yes. Wow what a relief. She’s of adult age. Harry was blushing and pulled himself back onto his bottom bunk. The leg pain was subsiding.

  He didn’t care that she still lived with her parents, he had until he was twenty, in his youth living with parents at eighteen was considered loitering and for bottom feeders.

  ‘What’s your name? I need to know your name if you’re going to be near me and James,’ he said. Looking into her eyes. She lifted her head; her cheeks were stained from mascara.

  ‘What’s yours?’ she quipped. Harry laughed.

  ‘Harry, I practically live on the opposite side of the road, but I’ve never seen you.’ He smiled at her and hoped it wasn’t inappropriate. He wasn’t sure how this would work. A teen and a stranger’s child, this was more like a commercial advert that advertises coffee with the world’s most perfectly unfitting family. Those adverts were blatantly all smoke and mirrors. That was television though. This was real and needed to be better than it was. It was going to be better, it had to be.

  ‘Meghan, my friends call me Meg,’ she said and returned the smile. The conversation was going well until the little kitten ran to her leg and she booted it back. The kitten ran back to James after it shrieked.

  That was a nasty move but given the circumstances and her losses it wasn’t unreasonable considering he wanted to kill Molly earlier.

  Progress was being made with Meg. Communication was key to survival. The circle of survivors in the bunkroom were in for a hell of a journey and they needed a new plan.

  No fire crew had shown up yet. They’d probably went home after the phone lines were cut. If anyone had a fire, they’d have to use extinguishers and pots of water.

  Society wasn’t completely ruined because there were still human beings wandering the earth. Humans had survived for millennium; survival was integrated into people.

  Existence would boil down to food, water, medicine, homes, heating, cigarettes, flashlights, batteries, oil…the list goes on, a headache of worry to come.

  ‘Meg we’re going to need a new plan,’ Harry said, leaning back on the stone wall. ‘I think we should stay here and check the building in the morning. We’ll worry about everything else at dawn.’ He hoped to bounce ideas around but had no energy.

  ‘We need to formulate a plan now, before daylight. You can’t check the building. This rooms safe enough for now, the door is heavy,’ she responded firmly.

  ‘I say we hold off here until the Government do something,’ Harry replied. ‘It wasn’t meant to be permanent when we voted to come here. It was out of desperation, having a second chance I would have said the church, there would have been people there,’ he added. His calf had numbed.

  The room didn’t have air conditioning, it was hot and made his underarms clammy.

  ‘And after?’ Meg queried. He wasn’t sure and shrugged. The town hall was an option; it had heavy doors.

  ‘Town hall?’ he said hesitantly. Meg placed the notepad back into the backpack and tilted her head at Harry. Sleep was tugging at him.

  James and Sam had fallen asleep on the floor, the kitten was curled up on James’s stomach. It didn’t look comfortable, but Harry didn’t want to wake them.

  ‘We stay here till sunrise and then we’ll escape. We’re going to have to go somewhere with police. So yeah, I guess the town hall will do,’ Meg said and laid down on the bunk. Harry did the same. The mattress was firm.

  Meg was hesitant and Harry wasn’t convinced she was on-board with the plan. It was a matter for the morning. The bright lights annoyed him, but he covered his face with his hands and sunk into the sheets.

  CHAPTER 20

  Others

  Harry woke up unwillingly. A hand shook in front of his face.

  He barely slept two hours.

  The lights beamed bright; his senses reoriented after scanning the room.

  Meg was rubbing his shoulder frantically, she was startled.

  Harry smelt the familiar copper odour; groans of the dead cloaked the silence. The dead were outside the fire station. The groans reminded Harry of football chants and drunk fans swaying, spilling beer in blissful ignorance.

  Only time would tell how long the door would last. Coming here now seemed like a terrible idea. They should have fortified the neighbour’s house, maybe the attic. Harry recalled his dream. The dead were slow in his dream. He had run across the beach, weaving through a horde, when he understood his lucid state he had suddenly broke to a walk and he escaped. That was their weakness, their slow pace. In numbers the dead were strong. If Ha
rry was smart during the run then he could get James, Sam and Meg to the town hall safely.

  ‘Harry, wake up,’ Meg said prodding his shoulder. ‘Did you get up last night?’ Harry attempted to push her away, but he noticed knew stains of blood on the floor in the shape of feet. He sat up; his leg was no longer in agonising pain.

  ‘Where are the kids?’ he asked. She pointed to the top bunk. Thankfully they were sleeping. James and Sam needed new clothes. The kitten was meowing at the foot of the bed, rubbing its back on the metal frame. They all needed food and water.

  ‘Was it you who did that?’ she asked and pointed to the blood feet on the floor. He hadn’t gotten out of bed all night. Unless he was sleep walking, which was unlikely. Harry leant his elbows on his knees. Meg reached for the flask of water on the other bunk and passed it to Harry. It had a mouthful left at most.

  ‘Has James had any, what about Sam?’ he asked. He handed the flask back to Meg and she scorned, Harry did not like it one bit.

  ‘I tried to give them some when they woke up earlier, they sipped some and said it was horrid, so I left them,’ her voice shaky. Harry took the flask back and licked a few drops from the bottle. The kids had to be first to get rations to keep their strength.

  ‘They’re always first,’ Harry said pointing to the bunk above and handing the bottle back to Meg, she stored it in the backpack on her bunk. ‘We’re stronger, besides we have running water don’t we?’ Harry said. Meg walked to the sink and turned the tap, nothing came out.

  The kitten had pissed on the floor and it mixed with the bloody boot stain. Then it ran and pounced at Meg’s bunk and clawed at her backpack. Harry expected her to throw it off. She walked to the kitten and picked it up and stroked it. She was becoming more tolerant. Meg trotted across the wet floor, opened the door and tossed the kitten out of the room. No, she wasn’t.