Vacations End_Book 2_The Journey Home

by R J Murray

  “That’s all we fucking need.” That was Jacob, she was sure of it. “We’re almost at the edge of town. I haven’t seen a chemist.”

  “We could stay a little longer and look.”

  Now that, she thought, was Clive. He was a good man. He wouldn’t have tried to hurt her like Jacob had. He’d have understood and would have helped her.

  “We can’t risk it.” Jacob again. Connard! “With the gunshots and the lateness of the day…”

  “How far to the next town?”

  That was Elise. Little chatte! Chatte, chatte, chatte. She repeated the word again and again, not realising that she was speaking out loud. The others watched her for a moment.

  Clive wore his concern openly and it was matched by the one Terri wore. Jacobs' eyes were narrowed, his head tilted back as he stared down his nose at her and Elise looked down at the ground, her thoughts on the people they had already lost.

  “She’ll have to hold on as best she can,” Jacob said finally.

  “Dammit man! She’s a person!”

  Mandy thought that she should have been nicer to Clive too. He was so passionate and willing to stand up to the connards of the world.

  “She needs our help.”

  Once more, she tried to lift her head to look at Terri, to open her mouth and tell her how sorry she was for being such a bitch since they’d met. She didn’t mean to, she just never got on with women and had always preferred the company of men.

  “Then you can stay here with her. I’m heading out.”

  Mandy couldn’t understand what she had seen in the older man. He was a first-rate bastard, she was sure of that. She tried to lift her head to glare at him but it was too much work. She needed sleep. Darkness was creeping in at the edge of her vision.

  “No!” Clive, that was Clive. “You’ll stay and you’ll help us with her. If you don’t, then you’ll leave on your own and how long do you think you’ll last? You might be a good hunter and were once a soldier, but even you need to sleep. Even you need someone to watch your back.”

  She really liked Clive and tried to tell him that but the world went dark before she could.

  When she was next aware of her surroundings, she was laid flat on her back. A position she was well familiar with, she thought with amusement.

  The pain in her arm was intense, seeming to radiate out in waves to the farthest parts of her body. She wanted to weep, to scream, but couldn’t speak. There was something wrapped around her face, preventing her from speaking.

  She opened her eyes, the darkness remained at the edge of her vision, pressing in on her. The young chatte walked beside her, rifle held in her hands as she surveyed the countryside around them. She could just make out a pale-faced Terri if she looked down.

  They were carrying her on something, she realised that much. What? She didn’t know. They had piled blankets over her and she wanted to tell them to take them off, she was too warm. The heat was cloying, making thought hard.

  Darkness dragged her down once more.

  She moaned when next she awoke. The pain was too much. Every part of her being burned as though on fire. A face appeared before her, a woman with kind eyes and dark hair. She said something but Mandy couldn’t understand the words.

  A hand pressed down on her forehead and the woman’s brows drew down in concern. Mandy struggled to remember her name, to know who she was. Something was holding her in place, a weight pressing down on her.

  Blankets, a distant part of her mind said, they were blankets and they were the reason she was burning. She needed to get them off of her. Needed to stop the heat before it burnt her away to nothing.

  The woman pressed a spoon to her lips, a pungent broth of some kind on it. The odour was repulsive but she was so hungry that she swallowed it down. Another spoonful followed, then another.

  Distant voices drifted to her, words and meaning lost as though they were speaking a language she couldn’t understand. She shifted her head, seeing three strangers clustered together. Her eyes narrowed, fear growing in her.

  Who were they? Did they want to hurt her? Why didn’t she know who they were?

  The last of the food was fed to her and the cloth lifted back over her mouth. She wanted to scream, to shy away in fear. Her last thought, before sleep claimed her, was why were they hurting her?

  When her eyes opened next, darkness filled the world. The cool night air a balm to her fevered flesh. Heat filled her, warring with the gnawing hunger and an urge she couldn’t define. She shifted beneath the blankets, squirming out from under them.

  There were four shapes in the darkness. She could hear their breathing, smell their breath on the night air. They smelt wrong, threatening. She wanted to get away from them, but one of them tugged at her memory.

  His scent was one she had known before. Another urge rose from the depths of her damaged mind. An urgent need that needed filling. She tugged at the cloth that had been wrapped around her mouth, a silent hiss escaping her.

  Chapter 14

  There was little heat in the old barn. The wooden planks that made up the walls were warped with gaps showing between them that matched the gaps in the roof. But, there was only one entrance and that was enough for the group when they had arrived, seeking some shelter for the night.

  Jacob leant against the side of the door frame, staring out across the snow-covered fields. The moonlight reflected off the snow and all was still. There was no movement, no sound, nothing but the wind blowing across the land.

  He enjoyed that time of night, that darkest time before the dawn when he could imagine that he was alone in all the world. He was almost at peace then and could forget whatever troubles he had. Which for Jacob, was usually plenty.

  There was little need for him to be on guard, he knew that. The infected didn’t seem to wander around so much in the darkness, probably because of the cold. Even so, he had been the one to insist they take turns on watch.

  Every now and again, he would leave his post by the door and wander across to where the others huddled together. He would stare down at them in the darkness and try to single out the sounds of each individual.

  It was a weird habit, he knew, but one he couldn’t shake. He needed to know they were still alive, still with him. He’d lost way too many friends and family in his life and he was all too aware that those people with him were the closest thing he had to friends. He didn’t want to lose them.

  He could admit to himself that he admired them. They were all so very young and idealistic. Standing their ground, determined to help Mandy when even they could see that she wouldn’t make it.

  But, that was what he liked about them so much. They cared in a way that he’d stopped doing many years before. Right around the time, his daughter had died in his arms. The world, he’d judged, was a hard place and you needed to be hard to survive. As he looked at those others in his little group, so passionate, so full of hope, he had started to think he might have been wrong.

  He pushed away from the doorframe and wandered back across to where they slept. Out of the mountains, even as high above sea level as they still were, the temperature still dropped precipitously in the night.

  They had each brought blankets with them and had huddled together fully dressed beneath them in an effort to conserve body heat. He stood over them for several long seconds as he counted their breaths and watched for the slight rise and fall of their chests in the dim moonlight that filtered into the barn.

  Once assure they were all still breathing, he went to check on Mandy. There was still enough of the man he’d been to hope that she’d died silently in her sleep. She was a burden that they didn’t need and while he wasn’t ready to go it alone, if it came down to a choice of dying because they were burdened with her or leaving them all, he would leave in a heartbeat.

  There was no movement in the blankets over the makeshift stretcher and he had a moments hope that she’d died in her sleep. He reached down to check for a pulse, pulling aside the blanket
s and then stopping, confused for a moment.

  “What the…”

  Realisation came and rose to his feet, lifting his rifle but it was too late. She leapt onto his back, teeth biting down on the thick material of his jacket as her one good arm wrapped around his neck. She beat at the side of his head with the bloodied stump of her other arm. The bandage, along with her clothes had been torn away.

  The rifle was useless to him and he dropped it with a cry as he reached up, trying to grasp her head in his hands and push her away from his exposed skin.

  He gripped her arm in his hands, pulling it away from his neck before twisting and throwing her forward over her shoulder. She landed with a thump on the hard-packed floor of the barn. He pulled the cleaver free from his belt and crouched, arms out before him as she rose up, a hiss escaping her.

  “What’s going on?” Terri demanded, rising from where she’d been sleeping.

  Jacob ignored her, swinging the cleaver in an arc before him as Mandy scuttled forward. Blood sprayed into the air from a long gash across her chest. She didn’t even seem to feel it as she kept coming.

  He lashed out with his booted foot, hearing the sickening crunch of her knee shattering as he raised the cleaver overhead. She hit the ground as he stepped forward, the cleaver coming down against her shoulder.

  Her nails caught his hand and he swore as she scratched him. Fury growing, he drew back the cleaver and slammed it down into her face, shattering her skull and stopping her for good.

  “Oh god!” Terri said as she approached.

  She stopped and turned to the side to vomit messily as Jacob retrieved the cleaver. He ignored her and crossed over to his pack, pulling out the first aid kit. He let the cleaver drop to the floor as he opened the kit, pulling out the antiseptic spray.

  “You’ve been bitten?” Clive asked as the older man sprayed the scratch liberally with the antiseptic.

  “A scratch,” he muttered.

  “Fuck.”

  “You think..?” Terri began but broke off, her voice choked with emotion.

  “Nay, lass,” Jacob said, forcing some humour into his voice. “Her nails are clean.”

  “What?”

  “The one that infected Mandy. She’d been bleeding all over herself and digging around in the flesh of others as well as doing whatever the hell the infected do to each other.”

  “Right?”

  “Her fingernails were crusted with blood and all kinds of crap. Mandy’s aren’t.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “As sure as I can be, but I tell you now, if I start to feel ill. I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  “Aye, you do that, man,” Clive said.

  “We should bury her,” Elise said softly and when Jacob looked her way, there were tears in her eyes.

  “The grounds frozen solid. You’d need a jack-hammer to get through it, lass.”

  “Still, we need to do something. We can’t just leave her.”

  He put the lid back on the spray and then dropped it back into the first aid kit. He glanced at Mandy’s remains and then back at Elise.

  “We don’t have the time or the energy,” he said simply. “We need to take care of the living.”

  “He’s right,” Terri said. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I don’t like it, but he’s right.”

  “We can cover her at least,” Clive said. “I’ll do it while the rest of you get ready.”

  “Ready?”

  “We can’t stay here and it’s almost dawn. We should get moving.”

  Jacob nodded at the other man’s suggestion. He knew that Clive didn’t want to mention it, but understood the risk. They couldn’t settle back down to sleep until they knew for sure that Jacob wouldn’t turn like Mandy had.

  “Damnit!” Terri said and everyone looked at her.

  “What’s wrong, babe?”

  “She was the only one who could speak any real French and I hate myself for thinking of that right now.”

  Chapter 15

  It was a subdued group that entered the forest in the early morning light. Jacob, all too aware of the frequent glances he received from the others, led the way with his rifle held at the ready.

  They followed the road as it cut through, their nerves stretched taut as they watched the shadowy undergrowth, all too aware that they anything could be hiding in amongst those snow caked boughs.

  They kept their silence, though Clive walked close to Terri, taking comfort in her nearness. Elise was torn between the safety of walking next to the others and the fear of intruding on them. She wanted to weep for the loss of yet another member of their group and couldn’t escape the fear that it would be Jacob next.

  He, seemingly oblivious to her concern, scratched idly at his hand. The scratch looked sore in the light of day but didn’t seem to bear any of those strange purplish striations that had branched out from Mandy’s scratch.

  “Hold,” he said, holding up one hand with fist clenched.

  “What is it?”

  “Voices,” he said, eyebrows raising in surprise.

  “Seriously? Where?”

  He ignored her, turning from the road and pushing between the branches of the trees. The others shared glances and shrugs but followed him. The snow crunched underfoot and the trees crowded in on them, but soon enough they heard it too, voices in the distance.

  Jacob slowed his pace, waving the others back as he lowered himself into a crouch. He brushed aside the branches of a fir tree and stared out, mouth dropping open at what he saw.

  Nearly thirty people marched through the forest, burdened with their belongings. Men and women, young and old, with several children staying close by their parent’s side. They were dressed warmly and seemed well fed, but what truly excited him, was their escort.

  They wore camouflage fatigues which looked out of place against the snow. Rounded helmets and backpacks. Each of them wore a heavy coat over their assault vest and rounded pads over their knees.

  The five men bore their unit markings and rank, each of them armed with an assault rifle that they held across their chest, the barrel pointed down. They kept wary eyes out for threats and it didn’t take long for one to notice him.

  A cry went up and with it, their weapons too, the people they were escorting immediately dropped low in a way that was well practised and Jacob dropped his rifle, raising his hands and calling out.

  “Hold! Hold! We’re not infected. Parlez vous Anglais! Anglais!”

  “Woah!” a soldier called, he bore the rank of corporal. “I speak English.”

  “There’s a few of us,” Jacob said, cautiously. “Just looking for safety.”

  “We can’t guarantee that my friend,” the corporal said cheerfully. “We can take you somewhere safer than here though.”

  “Where is that?”

  “Lyon,” he said. “We have camps set up around the city and a great many soldiers too.”

  “Jacob?” Clive asked in a whisper. “What do we do?”

  The older man ignored him as he looked at the soldier critically.

  “Why are you gathering people in Lyon?”

  “Simple,” the soldier said with a shrug. “We cannot be everywhere. There are not enough of us. So instead, we bring the people to one place. Make sure they are not infected and we can guard them easier.”

  It seemed off, somehow, to Jacob. He couldn’t put his finger on it but he was sure there was more to it than that. But, considering the alternatives, he realised there was little real choice for them.

  “We’ll come with you if we can.”

  “Of course.”

  “But we won’t give up our weapons.”

  “Keep them while we walk,” the Corporal said. “Use them only when I give the order and we will be fine. When we get to the camps, that’s someone else’s problem.”

  Jacob nodded curtly. He bent down to pick up his rifle and gestured for the others to follow him out of the bushes. They came cautiously, not quite
ready to think they were safe.

  “You are all Anglais, yes?”

  “Aye.”

  “Where have you been since this all began?”

  “Up in the mountains,” Jacob said falling in beside him. “Lost a fair few of our companions since then.”

  The soldier nodded, his expression serious.

  “You would not be the only one. We have heard many such stories of late.”

  “What are you lot doing up here?”

  “Our mission is to find people and bring them in,” he said. “Take them to safety.”

  “Do you hear that,” Terri whispered to Clive excitedly and he nodded. “We might have a chance.”

  Authors Note.

  So, the survivors still have a way to go to get to the camps outside of Lyon. What they will find there may well break them, but one thing is for sure, they are alive and are headed towards home. Fewer in number, bearing scars that will not heal as they mourn the loss of their friends, but still hopeful.

  I hope you enjoyed this instalment, check out the Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/KillingtheDead/ for updates on the next releases. This is a series that is being written around my other works, but I am aiming to get them out reasonably quickly.

  As always, thanks for reading.

  R. J. Murray