Mutation (Twenty-Five Percent Book 1)

by Wheatley, Nerys

  “I don’t think so. From what I’ve heard, when Bates took over he began to turn them to his own world view. Then that attracted more anti-Survivors.”

  “Is that why you joined?”

  Micah didn’t answer for a few seconds. “Not exactly.”

  Alex wanted to ask him for details, but the way he said it suggested he wasn’t in the mood to talk. “And now?”

  “I haven’t been a full on member of the organisation for a few years. Some of their methods bothered me.”

  “But you still led a mob into East Town.”

  Micah didn’t look at him. “Just because I don’t agree with some of the things they do, doesn’t mean I don’t still feel the same.”

  “So you came to hurt us.”

  “No. I could have taken two or three times as many men with me. There are always more volunteers than I can bring.”

  “Always? How many times have you done it?”

  “A few.”

  “A few?”

  “A lot, okay?”

  “Ha!” Alex exclaimed, pointing at him. “I knew I’d seen you before.”

  “But I never did it to harm you, I did it to...” He paused and walked faster, as if trying to get away.

  Alex kept pace. “You did it to what?”

  “Those people are stupid. They think they can just do anything to Survivors and get away with it. I had to show them what you really are. I knew you’d be able to deal with them easily. They needed to see how dangerous white... Survivors are.”

  Alex gave himself a few seconds to absorb Micah’s words. Then he went ballistic.

  “Are you insane?!” He threw his hands into the air, gesticulating wildly and pacing backwards and forwards across the pavement, stopping Micah in his tracks. “That’s one of the most moronic things I’ve ever heard! That’s like repeatedly poking a lion with a sharp stick then accusing it of being violent when it gets annoyed! What is wrong with you? There are children living in East Town. Children! How do you think they feel when they have to watch a mob of people trying to beat their parents to a pulp?”

  “I didn’t say my methods were perfect,” Micah said, stepping back to avoid Alex’s waving arms when he got too near.

  “That’s the understatement of the year. Why would anyone do something like that?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Alex stopped in mid rant, unsure of what he’d just heard. He turned to look at Micah who was staring at the ground. “What did you say?”

  Micah sighed. “I said I’m sorry, okay? You’re right, it was stupid. And wrong. And I’m sorry.”

  “Oh.” Alex didn’t know what to say. He hated it when people apologised before he was ready to stop being angry.

  He turned away. Then he turned back. Then he turned away again and started walking. Micah fell into step beside him and they continued along the road in silence for a while.

  “So,” Alex said eventually, “you’re going to try to find this secret laboratory?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Even though its existence is highly suspect and probably just the paranoid ravings of a madman?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know that what will more likely happen is you’ll find yourself knee deep in eaters and get yourself torn to pieces and eaten?”

  “Yeah.”

  They walked on in silence again for a while.

  “Want some company?” Alex said.

  Micah turned to look at him for a few seconds before looking forward again. Alex thought he detected a hint of a smile.

  “Yeah.”

  14

  When they’d gone a quarter of a mile from the Bates mansion, as Alex had come to think of it, the eaters began to reappear. At first they appeared in ones and twos, easy to avoid, but then in greater numbers as they got further away.

  Micah had been keeping the two skull-spikers he’d taken from Bates’ stash in his pocket, but he now pulled a glove onto his right hand and took out one of the knives to carry in his hand. Alex followed his lead, taking one of his own skull-spikers from the bag.

  They followed the main road out of Castle Hill, descending, both literally and figuratively, into the less desirable neighbourhoods heading towards the east side of the city. The older houses were packed closer together, the front gardens shorter with some houses fronting directly onto the pavement.

  Smashed windows and wrecked cars, some burned out, gave the area the appearance of a war zone, an effect heightened by the numerous dead eaters littering the streets. The number of live eaters was also increasing. It was becoming more difficult to find places to hide as they progressed.

  “We need to get off the main road,” Micah whispered as they hid behind a wheelie bin in an alley between houses while a group of seven eaters passed.

  “We can cross the river at the bridge by Tesco and go through Manor Park,” Alex said. “That’ll be quickest from here.”

  Once clear, they took the next side road they reached, finding a quieter street that still headed in the right direction. They reached edge of the car park of the big Tesco Extra next to the river half an hour later.

  Only a small part of the car park was out in the open. The rest extended beneath the actual store which was raised up on steel supports dotted amongst the parking bays and trolley parks. The mostly glass structure enclosing the lifts, stairs and moving walkways leading up to the store above was away to their right. From their position behind the lift shafts, Alex couldn’t see inside.

  The car park itself was the kind of full usually only seen on the days leading up to Christmas, the cars parked chaotically, with no regard for the markings on the ground. There had been at least two collisions, with the damaged cars still butted up against each other, blocking the way out for the lines of vehicles behind them.

  Other than a handful of eaters wandering amongst the retail nightmare, and the occasional eater trapped inside a car or van, there was no movement.

  Alex couldn’t help but wonder where all the owners of the cars were. There were a lot of people missing and the pedestrian bridge they were aiming for was on the far side of the car park. He looked up, but there was no way to tell who, or what, was in the store.

  “What do you think?” Micah said.

  “I think we’re okay as long as this is all there is,” Alex said, indicating the roaming eaters. He pointed at the store entrance. “But if there are eaters in there and the doors are still working, we might have problems.”

  “Then let’s try not to be seen.”

  Micah ducked down and, bent almost double, ran to a nearby car and crouched down behind it, his back to the side.

  “Before we do this all the way across the car park,” Micah said when Alex caught up, “I’m going to at least check that we have to.”

  He did a fair impression of a Russian dancer to the end of the car, then crouch-ran to the next one. At the end of that, he peered around the bumper to get their first look at the building which housed the trolleys and the bottom of the lifts, travelling walkways and stairs.

  He said, “Hmm.” After a couple of seconds, he pulled his head back. “We have to.”

  Alex crawled around him to see.

  Eaters were shuffling around the atrium, which he had half expected, but the strange thing was the way they were shuffling. Instead of the usual aimless movement, every single eater was walking in an anti-clockwise ellipse around the base of the walkways and stairs. Round and round, three or four eaters wide, each following those in front.

  As Alex watched, an eater appeared at the top of the moving walkway and rode down. When its toes hit the stationary ground at the bottom and it failed to continue the forward momentum, it fell over. After a few seconds, it got back up, nose bloody, and walked into the shuffling circle where it stopped, lifted its head, paused for a moment, then turned to its left and joined its brothers and sisters in their endless loop.

  By virtue of the fact that the two sets of sliding doors leading out to the car par
k were at either end of the building, they were all avoiding the areas that would trigger them to open. Alex didn’t know if that would continue if they saw something outside, like two men trying to get to the other side of the car park.

  “Well, that’s weird,” he said.

  “Have you ever heard of eaters following each other like that?”

  “Never. Kind of creepy, isn’t it?”

  When Micah didn’t answer, Alex looked round to see him watching one of the rogue eaters in the car park approaching. Micah moved forward, staying low as he waited for it to reach him, then twisted and kicked its legs from beneath it, stabbing it through the forehead before it could react. It was an impressive move. Alex really needed to learn some of that.

  “Amazing that an eater could be even creepier, but yeah,” Micah said as he returned to the protection of the car.

  Alex noticed another lone eater getting closer to them.

  “Let’s just get to the bridge,” he said. “We can think about it later.”

  They continued making their way from vehicle to vehicle, staying hidden by crouching low as they moved. After an embarrassingly short amount of time, Alex’s thighs began to complain.

  “Oh no,” Micah said from ahead of him.

  They had reached a tall, white van and Alex was using the opportunity to stand and stretch his legs. He moved to where Micah was towards the back of the van and carefully peeked around him.

  At first he didn’t know what had got Micah’s attention. Nothing seemed to have changed, the eaters still playing follow-my-leader around the walkways. Then he saw it, a black Labrador sniffing the ground outside one of the doors, the blue lead attached to its collar trailing behind it as it moved.

  “Hey, boy, over here,” Micah whisper shouted in the dog’s direction. It lifted its head to look in their direction and Micah gesticulated wildly for it to come.

  Ignoring him, it returned to sniffing the ground.

  “I’ll just call you Doolittle from now on then,” Alex said.

  “Maybe it’s not big enough to trigger the doors,” Micah replied, ignoring Alex’s quip.

  The dog wandered forward. The doors slid open. The eaters looked up.

  “Oh crap,” Micah said.

  A few broke away from the circle to investigate the now closing door. It opened again as they approached. More eaters followed. The whole bizarre loop broke up as every one of them headed for freedom.

  After a moment’s thought, the dog took off, disappearing onto the road.

  A moan from behind them drew Alex’s attention. Another of the lone eaters had snuck up on them while they were distracted. Being careful to stay hidden behind the van, he waited for it to reach them, then stabbed it. It collapsed against a nearby car before slumping to the ground.

  The car’s alarm went off.

  As one, the crowd of shopping eaters turned and began lurching towards the loud noise and flashing lights.

  “The bridge,” Alex said, breaking cover and running, Micah on his heels.

  The horde, to their right, followed. They were slowed by the maze of cars and vans crowding the car park, but so were Alex and Micah who had farther to go. By the time the two of them reached the ten foot wide pedestrian bridge on the far side of the building, the nearest of the eaters were only a few feet behind them. Finally free of the last of the obstacles, they broke into a sprint for the far side of the bridge.

  Halfway across, Alex stumbled to a rapid stop. Ahead of them, more eaters were pouring onto the bridge.

  “Where the hell did they come from?” Micah said in frustration.

  Alex looked back at the eaters from the car park crowding the end of the bridge behind them. There was no way back and no way forward.

  Micah was at the railing, staring down at the water thirty feet below. “How deep is it here, do you think?”

  The greenish brown water was moving slowly. Alex had an idea that might mean it was deep. Might.

  “I really don’t know.”

  Micah pushed up on the metal railing with both hands and swung a leg over. “Well, it’s certain death up here or possible death down there.”

  Alex looked at the eaters around them. They were only a dozen feet away now. He climbed over the railing to join Micah.

  “Good luck,” he said, trying not to sound like his heart was trying to break the sound barrier.

  Micah gave a small smile. “In my experience, there’s no such thing as luck.”

  Letting go of the rail, Micah leaped backwards and plunged towards the murky water. Clutching tight onto the bag, Alex followed.

  He hit the surface, fighting the instant urge to gasp in a breath as he plunged into the cold water. As he submerged, he pulled his legs up to his chest, thinking if the river was too shallow it might give him a couple of extra feet before he hit the bottom. Fluid rushed into his ears, muffling his hearing as he sank.

  He expected to hit the riverbed at any moment.

  To his immense relief, he didn’t.

  When he stopped sinking, he uncurled and kicked for the surface, gasping for air when he broke into the sunshine again. Blinking the water out of his eyes, he saw Micah treading water a few feet away from him. Despite the sluggish speed of the river, they were already several feet from where they’d jumped in. Alex followed Micah’s gaze up to the bridge. Eaters lined the rails, moaning as they watched their potential meal floating away from them.

  Then he heard a splash.

  The metal fence on the bank opposite Tesco ended a few feet downstream and the eaters not already on the bridge when they jumped must have changed direction to follow them. Now they were simply walking off the concrete bank and dropping the five feet into the water.

  Another two splashed in. Could eaters swim? Alex got his answer a few seconds later.

  He watched in horror as they struggled to remain afloat, coughing out the water that flowed into their open mouths and noses. Sinking, splashing to the surface, sinking again. Now, they just looked like normal human beings, fighting for their lives as they drowned. There was no fear on their faces, but Alex saw it anyway.

  Another one stepped from the bank, this time a child no more than ten years old.

  “No,” he whispered as he watched her drop into the water.

  She didn’t call out as a normal child would, she didn’t cry or scream for her mother, but Alex still saw her splashing in imagined panic. Without thinking, he began to swim towards her. A hand grabbed his arm.

  “You can’t do anything,” Micah said, treading against the current next to him.

  “She’s just a kid,” Alex said, his gut lurching as she sank beneath the water, resurfacing a second later, her arms flailing helplessly. “She’s drowning.”

  “If you try, she’ll try to kill you. You can’t help her. You said it yourself, she was gone the moment she turned.”

  Intellectually, Alex knew he was right, but the sight still wrenched at him. Feeling sick, he turned away and they started to make their way downstream. A few seconds later, the little girl’s splashing stopped for good.

  They swam with the current, but it was slow going. Alex’s clothing and shoes dragged at him. The eaters followed them along the side of the river, more joining them by the second. Every so often, one would walk off the bank and they’d hear it struggling in the water behind them. Alex didn’t once look back.

  The concrete banks had risen to a good ten feet above the surface of the river and Alex was beginning to fear they’d never find a place to get out. What felt like hours after they’d jumped from the bridge, but was in reality only a few minutes, he heard the sound of rushing water.

  “What is that?” Micah said. He sounded tired.

  Alex knew what it was. “The weir.”

  Micah’s eyes widened. “We’ll never make it over that. We have to get out.”

  The weir was where the river plunged over a manmade waterfall, a fifteen foot drop onto a concrete base before it continued its journey. Ale
x belatedly realised that was the reason the flow was so sluggish where they were now.

  He swam in closer to the bank. They’d been sticking to more or less the middle of the channel to avoid any falling eaters, but he didn’t want to miss a way up. The horde of eaters following them had been left slightly behind, but he could still see them about fifty feet back. Even if they did make it out, they wouldn’t have long.

  The current slowed even more. Not far ahead, Alex could see a raft of flotsam and jetsam where it had accumulated at the top of the weir.

  “Over there,” Micah yelled, pointing.

  Up ahead, a metal ladder climbed the wall to the bank above. Micah was already swimming for it. By the time Alex caught up, he was out of the water, climbing as fast as he could. Alex hauled himself onto the rungs. As soon as he was clear of the river, everything he was carrying and wearing became ten times heavier, his muscles numb almost to the point of paralysis from the cold water.

  Reaching the top of the ladder, he found Micah lying on his back, gasping for breath. Alex climbed onto the rough grass and bent, hands braced on his thighs, breathing hard. The sound of approaching moans wrenched him from his far too brief rest.

  Micah groaned. “Don’t they ever get tired?”

  Alex held out his hand, pulling Micah to his feet when he grasped it, and they took off at a laboured jog into a residential area. Almost immediately, they came across more eaters and were forced to start fighting their way through. Alex was pretty sure their guns would still work wet, but the last thing they wanted was to bring even more eaters to them so they relied solely on the skull-spikers. After twenty minutes of not getting anywhere fast, with the main horde of eaters still on their trail, he was exhausted.

  The sheer number of eaters was astounding. The city had a population of over two hundred and seventy thousand, more than half of which would have been trapped inside the barriers, so Alex knew he shouldn’t be surprised. But he had assumed the number of people who had survived would outnumber those who had been infected. That assumption, probably born more of wishful thinking than any real evidence, was beginning to look horribly wrong.