For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak

by Drysdale, Colin M.

  Despite the gunfire, Claire kept the accelerator pressed to the floor as I felt more bullets slam into the car.

  ‘Why the hell’re they shootin’ at us?’ Daz was crouched as low in the seat as he could get. Before I could answer, Iliana’s face exploded and Tom screamed. ‘Fuck, I’m hit!’

  The teenage girl crammed in beside Daz screamed too.

  ‘Sophie, are you alright?’ For the first time Claire sounded panicked.

  ‘She’s fine.’ Daz called out. ‘She’s just scared.’ There was a moment’s pause as he swallowed. ‘I think Iliana’s dead, though.’

  Claire looked across at Tom. ‘What about Jake?’

  ‘He’s fine,’ Tom winced with pain. ‘It’s just me that got hit.’

  Claire turned her attention back to the road ahead just as the Range Rover crashed through the barrier. The car skidded and Claire had to fight hard to keep it under control. I felt the SUV slide across the tarmac and we side-swiped the barriers on the far side, causing Iliana’s body to rattle back and forth between Daz and me, sending blood flying in all directions. Claire wrestled with the steering wheel, managing to keep us moving in the right direction. She glanced at Tom’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, it looks like it’s only a flesh wound, but we’ll need to get some pressure on that pretty quickly so you don’t lose too much blood.’ She turned to me. ‘Are we out of their range yet?’

  I nervously inched my head upwards until I could see out of the back window: the soldiers were no longer in sight. I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And they’re not following us?’

  ‘No.’ I wondered why this was. Maybe we were still inside the cordon they’d set up to stop people leaving the city. If that was the case, we’d need to find another way out.

  ‘Good.’ Claire stood on the brakes. Tom yelped as he was thrown against his seat belt and Iliana’s lifeless body slammed into the back of his seat. The car screeched to a halt and Claire jumped out. She pulled open the back door. ‘Sophie, you need to take Jake.’

  The teenage girl got out and took the small boy from Tom, kissing his head and stroking his hair before climbing back into the car. I glanced at him. He seemed listless, almost as if he was unaware of all that was going on around him.

  ‘You,’ Claire pointed at me, ‘get that body out of there and then help me get him,’ she pointed at Tom, ‘into the back seat.’

  I opened the passenger door, stepped out and reached back to the car. I grabbed Iliana and pulled, but she didn’t move. I changed my hold to get a better grip and tried again. This time I managed to drag her lifeless body out of the car and there was a sickening thump as it hit the ground. I glanced down and saw that Iliana’s blood, mixed with flecks of her brains, was now smeared across my jacket; I had to work hard to stop myself throwing up. Trying not to look at Iliana again, I helped Tom out of the front seat, while Claire disappeared round the back of the Range Rover. She reappeared a second later carrying a rectangular black bag.

  ‘Get him in here.’ She pointed to the back seat, and then she looked up at me. ‘D’you know how to drive?’

  ‘No, not really; not cars at any rate.’

  Claire turned to Daz, ‘What about you?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Good. Get up front and let’s get going again.’

  Daz slid behind the wheel as I clambered in the passenger side. I heard Daz fiddle with the seat, moving it back and forth until he was comfortable. All the time I was watching Claire: she’d torn Tom’s shirt open and was pressing a thick white pad she’d taken from her bag against a ragged wound in his right shoulder.

  ‘Why aren’t we moving?’ Claire glared at Daz as she worked on Tom.

  ‘Where’re we headin’?’ Daz looked from Claire to me and back again.

  I thought for a second. ‘Try the tunnel. We might still be able to get out that way.’

  The Range Rover leapt forward as Daz floored the accelerator. I turned my attention back to Tom and Claire. She seemed to know what I was thinking. ‘Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.’ She smiled at me. ‘I’m a doctor.’

  ‘Fuck! More polis.’ Daz was pointing ahead, where three police cars were parked — lights flashing but empty — across the road leading to the tunnel that I hoped would take us under the River Clyde and out to Glasgow’s Southside. At first, it seemed like our path was blocked, but then I saw they’d been positioned too far forward and there was a way for us to get past. ‘Daz, take that slip road to the left and then turn sharp right. We can get round them.’

  ‘Gotcha!’ Daz barely slowed as he followed my instructions and soon we were on the road that led down to the tunnel. With no other cars around, Daz was able to push the Range Rover to the max and we were doing about eighty when we shot into the darkness. As a kid I remembered playing a game where you had to try to hold your breath from one end of the tunnel to the other. Going at the legal maximum of thirty, I’d never managed it, but at the speed we were going now, it would have been easy.

  Ahead, the tunnel descended and then turned slightly to the left. The sound of the engine roared against the concrete walls and was thrown back through the broken windscreen. Suddenly, I saw something ahead: blue lights from some unknown source flashing in the gloom. A second later, first one police motorcycle, then two more, shot round the bend and passed us in the opposite direction. I turned and watched them disappear up towards the entrance, wondering what they were doing coming through the wrong side.

  ‘What the hell’s that all about?’ Daz slammed on the brakes and we skidded to a halt: a sea of shadows danced on the tunnel wall, thrown there by some unseen light. Then they came into view: a mass of people charging towards us, their yells and screams echoing all around. There was no mistaking it: these were infected.

  ‘We need to get out of here!’ I shouted.

  Daz looked across at me, scared and starting to panic, as he struggled to find reverse. ‘I’m trying!’

  By the time he finally found it, the first of the infected were only a few feet from the car. He stood on the accelerator and the engine screamed as we shot backwards, doing a speed that the reverse gear was never designed to do. At first, it seemed like the infected were able to keep up, but slowly the gap between them and us widened. By the time we reached the entrance of the tunnel, we were well clear of them, but I could still hear the noise they made as they chased after us.

  ‘Where now?’ There was an urgency in Daz’s voice as the car continued to shoot backwards.

  ‘What about your boat? You said it’s at the exhibition centre, that’s not far from here, is it?’ Tom was leaning forward, his shoulder tightly bandaged.

  ‘Okay, that sounds like a plan.’ I glanced round. ‘Daz, aim for that slip road there.’

  Daz stomped on the brakes and then put the Range Rover into first gear. He pulled sharply on the steering wheel as he accelerated, spinning it round. We bumped across the central divide and shot up a slip road which curved back on itself as it rose above the entrance to the tunnel; below, I saw the infected emerge and scatter. Soon, we were speeding along a broad dual carriageway, heading back towards the city centre. Our side of the road was empty, but the other was jammed with cars held up by yet another police roadblock. Some of the drivers had got out of their cars and were arguing with the policemen. They were so intent on shouting at each other that they didn’t notice the first of the infected sprinting towards them. In seconds, they’d been pulled to the ground, and as more infected streamed between the idling vehicles I turned back to face the front, knowing what was about happen and not wanting to see it.

  Daz was squirming round, trying to figure out what was going on behind us. ‘How far’re we goin’?’

  I leaned forward to get a better idea of where we were ‘There’s a pedestrian bridge over the road. We can use that to get across to where the boat is.’

  Daz squinted through the windscreen. ‘Where?’

  ‘There! Right there!’ I pointed
ahead to where a narrow metal bridge spanned both carriageways of the road we were on. The other side was still filled with cars, while ours remained clear.

  Daz hit the brakes, bringing the Range Rover screeching to a halt. I looked back at Tom. ‘Are you okay to run?’

  Tom stretched his shoulder tentatively. ‘Yeah, I should be.’

  I turned my attention to Claire. ‘You good to go?’

  She nodded. ‘Where’re we heading?’

  ‘Just over the bridge, and then it’s about fifty yards to the boat. You can’t miss it; it’s the only one there.’

  ‘Let’s go!’ Claire grabbed her black bag and leapt out of the car, quickly followed by the rest of us. Daz helped Sophie over the metal railings which ran along the side of the road, while Claire lifted Jake across. As we started to run up the sloping ramp of the bridge, I heard a shout and turned to see Claire begging Jake to run, trying to make him understand the urgency of the situation, but he just stood there, staring vacantly at her. I stopped and waited for her as she grabbed Jake’s hand, trying to pull him forward, but still he refused to move. I heard a crash in the distance and then a scream, and I looked round to find people running between the cars on the other side of the road. They didn’t appear to be infected, but they were running from something, and I had little doubt as to what it was. ‘Claire, infected! You’ll have to carry him.’

  Claire scooped Jake up and within seconds she was level with me; together we ran after the others. At the top of the ramp, the bridge turned sharply to the right, taking us out over the dual carriageway. To the left, was a railway line and a stationary train. Within its carriages, I could see people wrestling with each other: blood splashing onto the windows as people fought for their lives.

  Turning away, I saw infected on the road below us, chasing people down and attacking those they caught; screams and snarls mixing with the sounds of idling engines. By the time we were halfway across the bridge, I could see Claire was struggling to keep up. I held out my arms. ‘Here, I’ll take him.’

  As she passed Jake to me, I could feel his body was limp and his skin was warm and clammy. As we ran on, his head bounced against my shoulder as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

  Claire and I caught up with the others at the far end of the bridge where another ramp led back to the ground. Some of the infected on the nearby road must have heard Claire yelling at Sophie, urging her on, because their heads snapped round, and within seconds, they were sprinting after us. As we raced across the car park to where the boat was tied up, I glanced round; we were well ahead of the infected, but they were closing fast, their screaming and howling audible even above the sound of the blood pounding in my ears. I tried to judge the speed they were moving at, and the distance we still had to cover, but the fear of what would happen if they caught us clouded my mind. All I could do was hope and pray we’d get there with enough time to not only get on board, but also get far enough away from the shore to be safe.

  Chapter Three

  ‘Tom, get that rope; Daz, help Claire!’ When I felt we were close enough, I’d passed Jake back to Claire and raced ahead, reaching the boat seconds before the others. Once there, I ran along the dock and untied the front rope from its cleat on the pontoon. Following my orders, Tom did the same with the one at the back, while Daz leapt on board before turning to take Jake from Claire. Sophie was still a few steps behind and Claire waited to help her on board before climbing on herself.

  As soon as the ropes were free, I looked back: the infected were only twenty yards away. As I pushed the front of the boat away from the dock, I shouted to Tom. ‘Get on!’

  He didn’t need to be asked twice, and the moment he landed on the deck, I jumped on myself. I ran down the side of the boat and leapt into the cockpit. When I reached the wheel, I pressed the starter button, and breathed a sigh of relief when the engine immediately burst into life. I glanced over my shoulder: the first of the infected had reached the pontoon and were pounding along it. I slammed the throttle forward, causing the engine to scream in protest, and turned the wheel, taking the boat away from the dock. One of the infected, a man, perhaps in his late twenties, ran alongside and threw himself towards us, but we were just out of his reach. I watched as he fell into the water and sank from sight. Back on the dock, the rest paced back and forth, roaring with frustration at our escape.

  As I manoeuvred the boat towards the middle of the river, I heard the sound of another, more powerful engine approaching at speed. Looking upstream, I saw a seaplane skimming over the water towards us. The pilot had the door open and was trying to dislodge an infected which was clinging to the left-hand float. The noise grew louder and louder as the plane grew nearer, heading straight for us. At the last minute, the pilot spotted us and must have pulled back hard on the stick because the plane rose sharply and unevenly. The weight of the infected had unbalanced the plane and I could see the pilot fighting both to control it and to avoid hitting us. I twisted the boat’s wheel hard to the right just as the plane banked left and its wing-tip missed the top of the mast by less than a foot.

  A hundred yards further down the river, the infected lost its grip and fell, twisting and tumbling, as if in slow motion, before splashing into the river ahead of us. Finally, free of its unwanted passenger, the plane evened out and climbed higher into the cloudless sky. I watched until it was little more than a white speck against the blue, wishing we could escape just as quickly. As it was, it would take us a good few hours before we’d finally be out of the city.

  I looked at the others: Daz and Tom were staring after the aircraft, while Sophie had pulled out her mobile phone and was tapping at it furiously. After a few seconds, a confused look spread across her face. ‘Why can’t I send any messages?’

  Daz turned to her. ‘Dunno.’ He pulled out his own phone and examined it. ‘There’s no signal on mine.’

  ‘None on mine either.’ Tom shoved his phone back into his pocket. ‘Maybe the network’s down. Everyone’s probably trying to call everyone else at once to find out what’s going on; must be jamming up the system.’

  I was just about to join the discussion when I noticed Claire: she was bent over Jake, examining him closely. I watched him for a second, but he lay still, his eyes unfocussed, his breathing shallow and rapid. I put the engine into neutral, letting the current carry us downstream, and moved over to Claire. ‘Is he okay? What’s wrong with him?’

  She said nothing, but pulled back the sleeve of his sweatshirt revealing a ragged wound which snaked across his pale skin.

  ‘What’s that?’ Daz had joined us.

  ‘It was when the man attacked the car, Jake was sitting in the passenger seat; the man grabbed him when he smashed through the glass. I thought I’d got him away in time.’ Claire’s eyes filled with tears.

  ‘You mean ...?’ Tom didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to.

  Claire nodded.

  ‘Wait, what?’ Daz’s eyes moved from face to face, ‘What’s up with him?’

  ‘He’s got the disease, hasn’t he?’ We turned to find Sophie standing behind us. ‘He’s going to die, isn’t he?’

  Claire wiped her eyes and straightened up, ‘Yes, he’s got the disease, but I don’t think it’s going to kill him.’

  ‘So, he’ll be okay?’ Sophie sounded hopeful.

  ‘No.’ Claire hesitated momentarily. ‘No, he won’t; he’ll become like that man who attacked us.’

  Sophie’s eyes widened. ‘But, Mum, you’re a doctor; you must be able to do something.’

  ‘Honey,’ Claire walked over to her, hugging her closely, ‘there’s nothing I can do.’

  Tom and I glanced at each other uncomfortably.

  ‘What’s goin’ to happen when he ...? You know, when he turns?’ Daz didn’t look at anyone. He just kept staring at Jake.

  A realisation spread through my mind and I saw it occur to Claire and Tom, too. We were on a boat in the middle of the river with someone who would soon t
urn into an infected, and when he did, he’d attack us. He might only be a child, but in the close confines of the cockpit, we’d be unable to get away from him, and I’d seen on the news the previous night just how dangerous kids could be once the disease had overtaken them.

  Claire let go of Sophie, and paced back and forth. She paused, staring at Jake for a moment, before setting off once more. ‘Shit! Shit! SHIT!’

  ‘Mum …’ Sophie stepped towards her, but Claire brushed her aside. She tried again. ‘Mum, you’ve got to do something.’ Tears were streaming down Sophie’s face, ‘Please!’

  Claire stopped, a look of resignation creeping across her face. She turned to Sophie. ‘There’s only one thing I can do, honey.’

  ‘Then do it!’ Sophie urged her.

  Claire took a deep breath. ‘Okay.’ She knelt down beside her doctor’s bag, and with her hands shaking, she pulled out a syringe and a small glass bottle filled with a clear liquid. Wondering what she was going to do, I watched as she drew the liquid into the syringe and then held Jake’s small hand. For a second she closed her eyes and just knelt there, like a statue; then she leaned forward, her dark hair brushing against his cheek, and kissed him on the forehead, murmuring softly, ‘I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.’

  Claire kissed him again and then turned his arm over. She quickly found a vein and pressed the needle into his pallid skin: he didn’t even flinch. She paused again, this time more briefly, before she pushed home the plunger, emptying the contents of the syringe into his body. As the rest of us watched, Claire pulled the needle out and leant forward. She picked Jake up and held him tightly against her body, her shoulders heaving up and down as she whispered to him. It took a few seconds before I realised the boy’s breathing was slowing and soon it stopped altogether. I was confused for a moment, then I saw the word Morphine on the label of the now empty bottle and realised what she’d done. She laid Jake back down and stood up. Sophie was staring at her. ‘Mum, what did you just do? What did you do to Jake? Mum?’