Plague Of The Revenants

by Chilvers, Edward

  The revenant lurched at me from its hiding place beneath the bed. In my search for the keys I had dropped the lump hammer to the side and it now leaned hopelessly out of reach against the opposite wall. The creature seized a hold of my hand and tried to climb my arm. I clenched my spare hand into a fist and brought it down hard upon the creature’s nose. I might as well have been pummelling a plank of wood. The revenant’s nose shattered horrendously against its face but did not slow it up in the slightest. I leapt my feet and swung it across the room and the momentum of the swing caused it to let go of my arm and crash against the dressing table. I leapt back, grabbed the lump hammer and pummelled its head into oblivion. This done I picked up the keys and left the room, legs still shaking, looking around every corner as I went. I hurried quickly out of the front door and opened up the van, dived inside.

  The revenants on the street turned towards me at once. They had dispersed somewhat in the last fortnight but a few were still congregated on the street as I emerged and now came towards me with their low, guttural moan. I had already learned that these moans attracted the others to living flesh and thus realised it would not be long before the horde was down upon me once more. Sure enough I rounded the corner to be greeted with the sight of a veritable swarm. Revenants in front of me, revenants behind. I had nowhere else to go and I certainly wasn’t going to duck into another one of the side roads and spend another nightmare few weeks creeping from loft to loft. There was nothing for it. I sprinted over to the van, leapt in, started it up and accelerated and drove as fast as I could. The undead hit the bodywork hard, for I ploughed through them in a straight line as I went. One such body completely cracked the windscreen. I ducked down and was grateful when the thing bounced overhead. I heard something scrape along the ground, most likely the bumper and I immediately slowed down. Hit the revenants at speed head on and I would soon wreck the car. I needed to control my aggression and make it safely through the streets, for I was unlikely to get another chance. From then on I tried to avoid hitting the revenants wherever possible, rather I drove around them as best I could and nudged them down from the side.

  Negotiating the streets was even harder what with all the piled up cars and the debris all over the road. From time to time I saw evidence of a battle where survivors had clearly attempted to make a stand. I saw bodies lying rotting on the floor with their skulls completely caved in or else knives or other sharp instruments sticking out of their heads and yet after all this time I still saw no signs of human life.

  The revenants came up behind me, lumbered into the vehicle. I looked into my rear mirror and saw an entire swarm in pursuit. I accelerated as best I could, praying I didn’t come to an insurmountable obstacle. In time the streets began to thin out and I got the distinct impression I was close to freedom. I saw the last row of houses and beyond that trees. Suddenly the bodies cleared and beyond that trees and open spaces. No more revenants lined the roads. Now there was nothing except trees and hedges with wide open fields in between.

  I followed the signs for what I thought were villages. When I got to the busier roads I turned and travelled along on the pavement for cars still blocked the roads from where the living had tried to flee. For the first time I was out on the open road, for the first time in seven years I was a free man. Or was I?

  17. Grant drives until the truck runs out of petrol – 286 (801)

  I drove as fast as I could, trying to put as much distance between myself and the town as possible. The truck itself was in a hell of a state after I had dashed it against the swarm earlier. The engine was making a labouring noise and black smoke was seeping out from the bonnet. And yet still, by some miracle, it kept going. I looked out for other vehicles but all those I found were either wedged in ditches, destroyed or surrounded by revenants. I do not mind admitting I had been given quite a scare by the creature in the bedroom earlier and I did not want to risk another confrontation unless absolutely necessary. I drove around in circles, turning around when I came to built up areas and small towns which were invariably packed with the undead. I had no map and no clear idea as to where I was going. In this I was as helpless as the revenants. Of intelligent, reasonable life there was not a sign. I tried the radio but all that came through was static. At least I was out of the town but the revenants were still thick in places. As soon as they saw me they came after me, were attracted to human life like a magnet. They did not heed my vehicle or the road. Sometimes they came out so thick on the road I simply turned the truck around and went back the way I had come. With the engine in such a precarious state I did not want to risk too many collisions. I assumed that as time went on they would disperse further afield from the formerly built up settlements in search of living meat.

  I looked out for places where I might find shelter but now I had the truck I assumed I had the leisure to be picky. I was looking for a place with high walls and a large garden, perhaps even a castle, but of these buildings there was no sign. Instead there was village after village packed with revenant after revenant which all merged into one eventually and nothing in between except endless fields. I saw signs for the main roads but these I avoided for I knew they would be packed with abandoned cars and their revenant owners. I saw the mass panic, frozen in time, the cars stopped and crashed, the bloodstains on the road. I saw male and female revenants, the young and the old. Once I even saw a woman lumbering up the road carrying her undead baby in a sling. Humankind: we who were once the monarchs of the planet now reduced to the most base of parasites with not even the free will of a cockroach. And to think that I, the scum of the earth, was one of the only men left alive.

  It was mid-afternoon when the truck finally ran out of petrol. I had miscalculated badly. Not wanting to leave the relative safety of my moving vehicle I had ignored tempting prospects by the side of the road. Now, as I wound my way down the various country lanes, I found there was not a truck or car to be seen as the gauge crept agonisingly closer to empty. By the time the thing finally spluttered to a stop I found myself isolated in a narrow road surrounded by thick woodland on either side. Cautiously I unwound the window and listened close. I couldn’t hear any of the inhuman moaning that had characterised my time in the city but that hardly meant a thing. I cursed loudly and slammed my fists down upon the steering wheel. I should have planned it so much better than this. Had I been the man I used to be I would have fared much better. Those eight years inside, with everything being done for me, when I was told when to eat, sleep and shit were what had done for me. I thought back to my journey since leaving the town and realised there had been many opportunities to reach shelter in isolated cottages. I could have taken to the loft and looted as I saw fit, could at least have eaten and I could definitely have found another vehicle had I put my mind to it. Instead I had driven around looking for a miracle, as mindless as the revenants themselves. I needed to get it together. I shook my head to calm myself down then reached behind me and took the rucksack and the hammer. My stomach was rumbling and I needed to find food fast. I got out of the truck and set off on foot down the road in the opposite direction from which I had come.

  I had driven too far out. I had sought the wilderness but now I had finally found it there was no place for me to go. I had no aim, no idea where I was going and I did not know how I would define safety even if I were to find it. Nothing lay ahead of me except wide fields, large skies and the open countryside. From time to time I saw a barn, warehouse or other outbuilding but this was no good to me. I needed somewhere with food where I could stay a while. I needed honest to God bricks and mortar where I could hole up on a more permanent basis. I started making my way through woodland. I knew leaving the open ground was a bad idea but I was conscious of the time. Night would fall soon and I had no intention of feeling my way through the darkness in this sort of terrain. I was tired and had never been so hungry. All I wanted was some food and a place to lay my head for a few hours. I considered it a miracle I had survived so far. I was too regimented, too u
sed to having everything done for me in the prison, or at least this is what I told myself. How else could I have made so many elemental mistakes? Then again I was still strong and resourceful, patient too. In waiting out the crisis I had avoided the panicked rush which seemed to have claimed most of the population for the revenants. In prison you learn to act on instinct; to keep your wits about you and your ears open. This is why when I heard the sound of something crashing through the undergrowth I did not immediately assume it was a fox or a deer. Instead I readied the hammer, stepped back and swung as the revenant came flying out of the brambles towards me. The blow smashed its head open but not before it had let out an inhuman cry that was answered almost straight away by several other low groans. I spun around but the noise bounced and echoed off the trees and there was no telling from which direction the revenants were coming. I decided not to wait around and let myself be surrounded and instead ran as fast as I could, carving through the trees as I went.

  As I ran I heard them stumbling after me. Even all the way out here, with no sight of civilisation to be seen, there was to be no escaping them. I was seized with a wave of exhaustion. I had not eaten all day and my throat was parched. Further, I was in bad shape, not used to running after years of incarceration. I stopped to get my breath back, turned around and now I saw four of them, pursuing me with a pace that surprised me, almost at a run. I imagined out here in the forests they were hungrier than most of the others. I rushed back to the first one who was quite far ahead and felled it with a single blow only to be almost caught by the second who dived at me in a sort of rugby tackle which I was only just able to step away from. As the revenant sprawled on the ground I quickly finished it off but when I looked up again there were even more. I turned and fled as best I could. The revenants never seemed to lose stamina, in rain or shine they pursued with the same lumbering, lopsided shuffle and as my own run slowed to walking pace and I bent down with my chest bursting and the breath forced painfully from my lungs I realised they would soon gain on me. Best save my energy for the fight to come, I thought to myself. Suddenly I burst out of the woods and was back in a field. Better still I spied the chimney of a farmhouse just a quarter of a mile away. The sight of the farmhouse and the possibility of salvation so close to hand gave me hope and with it a renewed energy. I picked up the pace and broke into a jog which outpaced the revenants for the time being, before deliberately slowing my pace. If I were to hide out in the farmhouse the last thing I needed was to be assailed by the bastards at every opportunity, for they would be sure to try and follow me inside. Even if I were able to outrun them and reach the loft I would still be trapped. I stopped and turned around. Five of the revenants now pursued me. It was time to go on to the attack. I moved forward, swinging wildly with the lump hammer. For too long I had run for these bastards. Now, I decided, it was payback time. I took down two of the revenants with a single blow. The third trailed lamely behind the others with part of its right leg hanging off. No problems there either. I swung at the fourth but it somehow managed to duck, although whether this was by accident, design or instinct I was not quite sure. Now it dived low towards my waist with its arms outstretched. I stepped away but not quick enough and it wrapped its hands around my right leg as it fell. I brought the hammer down hard upon its back and felt its spine crack and this in turn loosed its grip, allowing me to step away from its embrace and pummel its brains into oblivion. There was one more revenant left. I hit it low, shattering its legs in a single blow and sending it falling to the ground. Afterwards I smashed its arms, trying to torture it as much as possible. But the thing could feel no pain. Frustrated, I raised the hammer one more time and exploded its head against the hard ground.

  With the revenants finished off I stopped to get my breath back then set off once more towards the farmhouse, my eyes scanning the surrounding area for signs of the undead. As I got closer I heard noises. I readied my hammer but at that moment I realised they were living, human voices and my heart leapt. I leapt over the fence and hurried across a meadow towards them before screeching to a halt. There were three of them, a young woman and two older men. I could see at once they had been in the process of looting the place for food, as evidenced by the beaten up old truck standing just outside the front door, half filled with provisions, when they had been surprised by three revenants from outside. They looked as though they were trying to ward the creatures off with sticks, and all seemed afraid to make the decisive blow. As I watched I saw the woman pushing the revenant away with what seemed to be the handle of a broom but it fell back towards one of the men who tried to get out of the way but not fast enough to prevent the creature from seizing hold of his clothing and latching its teeth into his arm. The man let out a cry. Blood spurted into the air. The other man now cried out in turn and swung his own stick at the revenant but instead of finishing it off he instead appeared more concerned with releasing the creature’s teeth from the grip of his doomed comrade. Meanwhile none of them were paying attention to the other two revenants who now lumbered forwards to surround them. This was fast turning into a catastrophe before my eyes. I had no especial wish to make friends but in that moment I decided I just had to intervene.

  I strode purposely across the meadow, deciding not to rush. Two of the revenants saw me approach and turned their attentions towards me which at least brought the other survivors some time. I swung the hammer hard, without hesitation, smashing into the skull of the first revenant and turning his head into a bloody pulp before he had hit the ground. I did not hesitate as they had done. These beasts had to die. I was hoping my actions would somehow spur the others into action but instead they leapt back fearfully, seemingly as afraid of me as they were the revenants. The remaining two revenants turned and advanced towards me at once. I swung the hammer again but the blow only parried them away and brought me a few seconds. I cried out to the others for assistance but the bitten man staggered away whilst the remaining two just looked on at me aghast, as if frozen to the spot. I retreated to the start of the meadow. The revenants followed me. I strode forward once more and they lined up to take a hammer to the skull. When they were both on the floor I brought the hammer down twice more to ensure they would not be getting up again. I looked up. The three others were regarding me with horror. The man who had not been bitten staggered away and vomited heavily upon the ground.

  “Are you insane?” Demanded the woman fearfully.

  “Insane?” I repeated, my blood up. “You’re the ones who were trying to push the damned things away with sticks.”

  The woman seemed about to argue but at that moment the uninjured man stepped forward. “You came along just in time,” he said breathlessly. “My name is Farrow, this is Kit and our companion here is named Block.” He motioned towards their stricken colleague before turning back to me. “How long have you been out here?”

  I suddenly found myself extremely wary of the living, having not set eyes upon a living soul whom I trusted since this whole business had begun. Come to think of it many years had gone by since I had met somebody of whom I did not feel the need to be wary. Nonetheless I was tired and very hungry. These three survivors, on the other hand, were well fed and what is more they had wheels. I decided to demur Farrow’s question for the time being. “Never mind that,” I told them. “You want to thank me? Give me a lift back to wherever you’re staying. I presume you’ve got all the food you need?”

  “Well we’re certainly not going to stick around here until their friends show up,” replied the woman, nodding her head towards the remains of the five revenants.

  “You’re welcome to come with us,” said Farrow, shooting her a worried glance. “We’re always happy to welcome new people, and at the same time we’re in your debt.”

  I nodded towards the stricken man slumped against the side of the truck, nursing the bloodied remnants of his arm. “You want to take him with you?”

  “Of course,” snapped the woman irritably. “He’s still one of us. Would you li
ke to be left behind?”

  “Still one of us but only just,” I said darkly. “He’s going to turn, you know that?”

  “He might not,” she replied defiantly, although there was uncertainty in her voice.

  I shrugged. “Fine. We’ll take him back with us but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Lay him in the front with you,” said Kit. “You can drive. I’ll get into the back with the newbie.”

  I climbed into the back of the pick-up truck and held on tight. Kit joined me a moment later. I noticed they had managed to get three bags full of supplies. A few tins I imagined, hardly worth it for all the trouble they’d had as a result. Farrow started the engine and drove carefully along the narrow roads. There were a few revenants about but they did not get in our way as we proceeded along. “My name’s Kit,” said the girl eventually.

  “I know,” I said awkwardly, looking down. “That other guy told me, Farrow.”

  “So what’s your name?”

  “Grant,” I reply.

  “Is that your first or last name?” She asks me.

  “Either will do fine,” I told her with a humourless smile. “You don’t need my life story and I sure as hell don’t need yours. In this world you’re either alive, dead or one of them.”

  Kit scowled at me. I did not know how to be polite or to make small talk. I knew how to be respectful and I knew how to be abrupt. I did not especially want people questioning me as to my background so if Kit thought me aloof and unfriendly that was fine by me. It wasn’t as though I intended to stick around that long with a bunch of amateurs.