He marched back across the room and out into the hallway.
Alex followed him. “There may have been a better way for me to handle that,” he muttered as they walked back along the corridor.
“You think? I saw a couple of eaters down the road. They weren’t coming this way, but there may be more.”
There were gasps behind them and Alex looked back to see the people from the office filing out of the room, seeing the gutted body and the dead eater. One by one they made their way past and ran to catch up with him and Micah. No-one said anything until they rounded the corner and came across the body of the eater Alex had shot.
Someone gasped, “Stan!”
When they reached the door to the fire escape, Micah stepped through, checking the alley. “It’s clear.”
“Alright,” Alex said to the group, “once we get down there, have your keys ready, get to your cars as quickly as you can and don’t make any noise. If any eaters appear, run.”
“What about you?” The woman who spoke was somewhere in her fifties, petite with short, brown hair. Alex had noticed her back in the office, calm, listening, watching. He knew it would be people like her who would survive.
“What about us?” he said.
“Do you have a car? How are you going to get home?”
None of the others had shown any concern at all for his or Micah’s wellbeing. He was slightly taken aback. “Uh, well, we had a car, but it broke down. We’ve been walking. If anyone’s going anywhere near East Town, we wouldn’t say no to a lift.”
No-one spoke up, whether because they weren’t going that way or they just didn’t want to give them a ride, Alex didn’t know. He wasn’t expecting anything anyway.
The woman dug in her handbag and pulled out a set of keys, removing a car key and handing it to him. “You take mine. John lives near my son’s house, he can give me a lift.” She turned to a man next to her. “Can’t you, John?”
John’s eyes flicked from her to Alex and back again. “Sure, Mavis.”
Mavis smiled and nodded. “It’s the white Nissan Micra, just down to the left, on the other side of the road. It sometimes has a bit of trouble starting, but just keep trying and it always catches in the end.”
Alex stared at the key in his hand for a moment, overwhelmed. Random acts of kindness were something he’d come to not expect.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you, Mavis.”
“Yes,” Micah said, smiling, “thank you.”
Mavis smiled back. Alex really hoped she made it.
Pushing the key into his pocket, he took a deep breath. “Everyone ready?”
There was a smattering of unenthusiastic nods as Micah led the way onto the fire escape.
Once on the ground at the end of the alley, Alex peered around the corner, checking the road for movement. Seeing none, he waved to the others and they ran past him one by one, heading for their cars. He and Micah brought up the rear.
Alex saw Mavis’ Nissan as soon as they left the alley. It was the only white car on the street, one of the old style Micras, the shape more boxey than the newer models. His mother had owned a Micra, bought just after the new shape came out, so he knew that made Mavis’ car over twelve years old. At least it was a vehicle.
They were within twenty feet of it when they heard the scream.
Alex turned to see a small group of eaters emerge from a side road beyond where the people from the office were making their way to their cars. For a moment he thought it would be alright, that they would get there in time. But then panic set in. One man dropped his keys, having to go back for them. A woman tripped on her high heels. A few more eaters rounded the corner.
“Oh, hell,” Alex said. He handed the key to Micah. “Get the car.”
Hoping Micah wouldn’t just drive off without him, he dropped to one knee in the road and unzipped his bag, pulling out the G36. It was unloaded and he scrabbled in the bag for a magazine, glancing up at the eaters closing in on the panicking office workers. A handful were already in their cars. Engines roared to life. The first car sped past him. Another two pulled out and turned round to get away from the oncoming menace, almost colliding as they did so.
Alex’s hand closed over the magazine he was searching for and he jammed it into the rifle, standing back up. The first of the eaters were only ten feet from a man hurrying to get to his car. He glanced round, saw them, and froze.
Alex took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and fired.
The first eater went down as it reached its hands for the man and Alex hoped none of its blood had reached him. The shot seemed to bring the man to his senses. He started to run again, reaching his car a couple of seconds later.
Alex fired again. Another eater, only feet away, dropped and didn’t move.
The man finally got into his car and peeled out into the street, ploughing into an eater in the process and knocking it to the ground. He pushed forward, crushing its head, and drove past Alex.
Two more cars passed him. He shot three more eaters in quick succession.
Mavis was ten feet from John’s car, eaters moving to intercept her. John was already inside, starting the engine. He pushed open the passenger door towards her.
“Hurry!” he screamed.
An eater reached for her, grabbing hold of her handbag. She shrieked, letting it go. Alex knew she was too close for him to shoot.
“Mavis,” he yelled, “run!”
She dashed for the car, throwing herself through the open door. As she yanked it shut, Alex pulled the trigger. He breathed out as the eater fell. John pulled out onto the street, stopping briefly for Mavis to grab her bag off the ground then accelerating towards Alex. Mavis waved as they passed. Another car followed.
More eaters were on the road now, at least twenty, all of them heading towards Alex. He glanced back at Micah, only now noticing that Mavis’ car hadn’t started. The engine turned over a few times and stopped. Micah looked at him through the windscreen and shook his head. He tried the car again. It didn’t start.
Alex turned back towards the horde of eaters in time to see the final car pull out, zigzagging across the road as its panicked driver looked at the eaters instead of where he was going. Alex’s eyes widened as the car headed straight at him. He grabbed the bag and dived out of the way, crashing into a parked van as the car careered past, right where he had been standing moments before.
“Seriously?!” he shouted at the car’s retreating bumper. He rubbed his shoulder where he’d collided with the van.
As the sound of its engine faded, he heard two things. The moaning of at least a couple of dozen eaters all determined to make him dinner, and the repeated turning over of a car engine.
Scrambling to his feet, he ran back towards the white Nissan. The engine caught and revved as he approached and he heard Micah whoop. He jumped into the passenger seat. The engine promptly died again.
“What? No!” Micah said, staring at the dashboard in horror. He looked at Alex. “What is it with you and cars?”
“What do you mean me? You shouldn’t have taken your foot off the accelerator.”
“I had to get into gear.” Micah turned the key again. All the effort produced was a few lacklustre revs.
Alex stared out the window at the approaching eaters. “Now would be good.”
“Shut up.”
He turned the key again. The starter rolled sluggishly over and over. The eaters lurched closer, the first few within ten feet now.
Suddenly, the engine caught.
Micah exhaled loudly and sat back, revving for what seemed like an age.
“Don’t you think we should be leaving, Mike?” Alex said from between gritted teeth.
“Do you want it to die again? And it’s Micah.”
“What?”
“You can call me Micah or you can call me Mr Clarke, but don’t ever call me Mike.”
The first eater reached the car and slammed a bloody palm onto the window next to Alex.
&
nbsp; “I’ll call you sweetheart and bake you cupcakes if it will get us moving,” he said, watching the eater nervously. If it worked out it could break the glass with a fist and enough force, he was in trouble.
Micah gently let his foot up. When the engine noise lowered, but didn’t fade out, he shifted into first, just as the second eater reached them. The car clipped the first eater and it spun away and fell as they moved out. The back wheel bumped over it.
Alex pulled on his seatbelt as they made a u-turn and sped away, willing his heart rate to slow to less than two hundred.
“Thank you, Mavis,” he murmured.
8
Alex slid the rifle into the bag on his lap.
“What else have you got in there?” Micah said when they could no longer see the eaters behind them.
Alex glanced at him warily. “A taser and pepper sprays and some extra ammunition.”
“Will a taser work on an eater?”
“No idea, but in the event that’s all I have I’d rather try it than nothing.”
“And the pepper spray?”
“They were the last two things left in the armoury so I thought, why not? You want one?” Give him the pepper spray, he might not try for the assault rifle, Alex thought. Although he was willing to admit that logic might be a bit flawed.
“No, thanks, I think I can do without it.”
Alex shrugged and zipped the bag closed.
“Where can I drop you?” Micah said.
Alex looked out the window at the skyline. The streetlights were beginning to warm up. Dusk was rapidly approaching. In his experience, bad situations rarely improved in the dark.
“East Town,” he said. “Right now, I think it would be a good idea to dig in for the night.”
“So you’re going home,” Micah said.
Alex nodded. “Tomorrow I’ll see what it’s like further out of town. What about you?”
Micah was silent for a while. “The same.”
Alex had the strongest feeling Micah was hiding something, but then he’d felt like that practically since they’d met.
“Whereabouts do you live?” Alex said, trying to sound as if he was making casual conversation.
“Not far from you,” Micah replied, without elaborating.
Alex gave up, trying to put it out of his mind. It wasn’t as though Micah would tell him. As long as it wasn’t anything that would get him or anyone else killed, he could live without knowing.
They drove in silence for a while, making several turns as Micah drove them towards the east side of the city. The streets were practically deserted, other than roaming eaters. There were signs that people had left in a hurry, the occasional glimpse of belongings strewn in front gardens and on doorsteps. Looters had struck the shops. Society was already breaking down and it had been less than twelve hours since the outbreak had begun.
They passed an electrical store, its windows smashed. As they drove by, two young men emerged, staggering under the weight of a huge plasma television set.
“Wanna bet how long those two are going to last?” Micah said.
“I’m guessing it’ll be measured in hours instead of days,” Alex replied. At least for now, they no longer lived in a society where stupidity wasn’t a handicap.
He gazed longingly at a coffee shop a little further along.
“That doesn’t look good.”
Alex tore his eyes from the poster of a steaming espresso as Micah slowed the car to a stop. Ahead of them, cars were strewn across both sides of the street. Dented bumpers and doors bore evidence to several collisions. Blood soaked into both upholstery and tarmac, but there were no bodies.
The way forward was blocked.
“Can’t you get past on the pavement?” Alex said.
Micah turned to him, his eyebrows raised. “Didn’t you learn anything from the station car park?”
“You are never going to let that go, are you?”
“Not as long as we’re together. Which, once we get past this, and if I’m lucky, should be another twenty minutes or so.” He shifted the gearstick into reverse to begin a three point turn. “We’ll have to circle round.”
Three sharp bangs sounded on the side of the car. Alex peered into the wing mirror next to him, seeing two men walking towards the front of the car. One of them was holding a knife. The other had what looked for all the world like a sword.
Someone tapped on the driver’s side window and Alex looked round to see another two men. He glimpsed the handle of a knife protruding from the belt of the one nearest the car. The man made a winding motion with his hand for Micah to roll down the window. Micah lowered it an inch.
“This area is crawling with eaters,” the man said, leaning down to look into the car. “It’s not...” He stopped when he saw Alex. “Eater!” He yelled.
The other three men were immediately on alert, brandishing their assorted weapons as they bent down to see through the windows. Alex pulled his gun from its holster.
“He’s not an eater,” Micah shouted, “he’s a Survivor.”
“Eater, white-eye, makes no difference,” the man doing all the talking said. “You can go, but we need to deal with him.”
“What do you mean, ‘deal with him’?”
Two of the men had moved to the front of the car.
“We need to go,” Alex muttered. “Now.”
“He’s dangerous,” the man said. “He needs to be killed.”
“What the hell are you talking about? He’s a cop!”
“I don’t care what he is,” the man said, his voice rising. “If it has white eyes, it gets put down.”
“Micah, you can’t reason with them,” Alex said. “Just go.” It wasn’t the first time he’d been the target of this kind of irrational fear and hatred.
The man on Alex’s side tried to pull the door open, but it was locked. He slapped a hand onto the window.
“Idiots,” Micah hissed, throwing the car into first.
The window next to Alex shattered, glass showering his lap. “Go!” he yelled.
The sword thrust into the car, aiming for Alex’s head. He instinctively grabbed at it. The car jerked forwards and he screamed as the blade dug into his hands. Grimacing, he held on as the car accelerated. Micah spun the car around and the two men in front of them leaped out of the way. The sword was dragged from the hand that held it and Alex pulled it in through the window as they sped back the way they had come.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Micah said, banging his hands against the steering wheel as he drove. “How can anyone be that stupid?”
Uncertain if Micah meant the men for trying to lynch him or himself for not letting them, Alex kept silent. Using his knuckles, he brushed little cubes of glass from his clothing, and then unfurled his hands, wincing as he did so. Both palms were bleeding. Micah glanced at him.
“I can’t believe you just grabbed that thing. Didn’t it hurt?”
“Yes, it hurt,” Alex replied, “a lot.” He looked down at the sword which was resting against his thigh, its tip on the floor between his feet. “But hey, at least I got a sword.”
Micah snorted, shaking his head, and for the first time since they’d met, Alex saw him smile. After driving past a few side streets, Micah turned right, navigating around the blocked route.
“Check the glove compartment,” he said. “Mavis seemed like the kind of person to have a first aid kit.”
Alex flipped the compartment door down, trying to do everything with the backs of his hands to avoid spreading his blood around. He found a pack of tissues and pulled one out, trying to clean the blood without touching any of the wounds. Looking down at his hands, his head almost hit the dashboard when the car jerked to a halt abruptly.
“What...?” He looked out the windscreen. “Reverse. Reverse now.”
“I know,” Micah growled, shifting the gear.
The car sped back.
There was a deafening crash as they halted abruptly and Alex was suddenly fa
ce to face with an airbag. The engine stalled.
Alex batted the airbag out of the way and turned to look behind them. He heard the squeal of tyres as the car they had hit reversed frantically, only one headlight now working, spun across the road and drove away.
Their own engine turned over a couple of times and stopped. His airbag in his lap, Micah turned the key again. Nothing happened. He did it several more times, glancing between the ignition and the windscreen. The only response was a series of soft clicks.
Alex grabbed the bag of weapons, wincing as the woven handles cut into his wounds.
“We’re going to have to run,” he said.
“You think?”
Micah opened his door and jumped out. Alex pushed his own door open and did the same, taking the bag and sword with him. Ahead of them there were more cars, this time completely blocking the road as far as he could see. Wandering amongst the pile up were the largest number of eaters they’d seen so far. Alex guessed they had been the occupants of the cars. Some were still trapped inside their vehicles, scraping their fingers pathetically across the windows, locked in what would most likely become their tombs. Others were roaming aimlessly. Some were feeding. Alex desperately hoped there was no-one left alive and uninfected in the carnage.
But most of the eaters were staggering straight for him and Micah.
They took off at a run away from the horde, heading around the first turning they came to, then skidding to a halt. Up ahead, more eaters were milling around in the road and surrounding gardens. Seeing Alex and Micah, they started towards them. Alex looked back to see the leading edge of the horde behind them appear at the corner. They were trapped.
“We need to get inside,” Alex said, scanning the surrounding houses for a place to hide. “Over there.” He pointed to a detached house set back from the road. There were no lights on inside that he could see, but most importantly, the front door was ajar.
They ran for the house, crossing the street and leaping over the low wall surrounding the front garden just as the nearest eaters coming the other way reached the gate. They crowded through onto the path as Alex and Micah bounded up the few steps to the front door. Micah already had his pistol drawn. He pushed the door open, standing to one side and peering into the darkened interior.
Mutation (Twenty-Five Percent Book 1) Page 7