by Jack Lewis
I turned and looked at the camp we had left behind, and I watched a small bonfire flicker against the night sky. I wondered what I would come back to, if I even came back at all. All I could wish for was that we would find the helicopter, and return with some kind of hope.
Chapter 12
“I used to play guitar,” said Lou.
She was sat on a rock that, if you squinted enough, was in the shape of a hippo. She had taken off her boots and socks and was massaging her right foot. Her skin was wrinkled. A few hours earlier she had stood in a puddle that had reached up to her ankle.
“And the first few weeks were a bitch,” she carried on. “After a while my hands were covered in callouses. I thought it was bad then, but this is worse. I didn’t think you could get them on your feet.”
“Jesus. Quit moaning,” said Mel. She was stood straight, with her shoulders back.
I couldn’t help notice the difference in the two women. Just a year ago, Mel was inexperienced in the Wilds. Lou made a point of showing everyone that she was alright on her own and didn’t need anyone’s help or support. Skip forward a year and a change had taken place. It wasn’t like Lou had become a beacon of light, but she had mellowed a little. She moaned more about the hardships we faced, which reminded us that she was human. Not so long ago, she would have bottled things up until she burst.
Lou picked up a small stone from beside her and lobbed it at Mel’s head. Mel ducked out of the way.
“I’ve been thinking of learning an instrument,” said Charlie. Before setting out he had taken off his lab coat in favour of a green raincoat. His curly hair was so long now that it reached down to the hood.
Gregor turned to look at him, but he didn’t say anything. The gigantic butcher had hardly said a word in the hours since we had left camp.
“Yeah,” Charlie carried on. “Always fancied myself as a bit of a drummer.”
He mimed playing drums with his right arm, and then looked down at the stump of his left arm, twisting his face in exaggerated confusion. The he stopped and looked around expectantly, waiting for laughs that didn’t come. Mel gave chuckle out of pity. Lou shook her head, turned away from him and massaged her feet. Only Ben laughed properly.
“Tough audience,” said Charlie. “Guess I can delete drumming and stand-up comedy from my CV.”
“Cross science off too,” said Lou.
“Sorry?”
“What good have you actually done us? I mean, you’ve been holed up in your lab doing God knows what, and there’s feck all to show for it.”
“Now now,” I said.
We hadn’t been in the best of moods since we had left camp, but the last hour had been particularly tough. We had reached a grouping of hills fifty feet tall. It was possible to walk around them but it would have added hours to the journey, so we decided to tackle them head on. My calves burned after scaling the hills. Looking at the rest of the group, it seemed like they all felt it too. The going was particular rough on Charlie, who had to stop in what seemed like every few minutes to catch his breath.
The path ran straight once we cleared the hills. There was a single-lane road close to us which led to the nearby towns of Larkton and Grey Fume. Larkton had been a town of thirty-thousand people. It was famous for being the home of Larkton cheese, a mild cheddar that was shipped across the country. Grey Fume, before the outbreak, was a grim place where few people settled. It had a population that was overwhelmingly old, with most of the adults nearing retirement age and their children leaving for the cities as soon as they got the chance.
As we got nearer to the towns we began to see more infected. Ragged groups of dead bodies walking across the fields and roads, loose flesh hanging off their frail figures. We avoided them for the most part and only killed those who got too close, but as sightings of them grew, I became uneasy.
We came to a stone bridge. It hung over a brook that trickled for miles through the countryside, eventually joining a river. I stopped and leaned against the grey stone. Charlie, seeing his chance, sat on the wall and took deep breaths. Lou shifted her rucksack on her back. She held a quarter of our provisions in her bag, and I wondered what else she had packed. Had she brought her book with her? Walking in the countryside used to be a calming experience, but I wouldn’t have blamed Lou if she needed her anxiety book.
I took a bottle of water out of my jacket pocket. The liquid had a pale yellow tint to it, but we had boiled all of our water, so I knew it was safe to drink.
“This is going to be trouble. We’re getting closer to Grey Fume than I’d like, and the infected are making me twitchy.”
“We could take a diversion. Cut a route a few miles wide and skip the towns,” said Mel. She had been quiet so far, only talking to share words of encouragement with Ben. The boy seemed to prefer Charlie’s company, and tried to hoist himself up onto the bridge so that he could sit next to the scientist.
Reggie was on the opposite side of the bridge, a few feet away, with his back to us. He stared into the distance. When he turned round, his face was neutral, as though all the emotion had been sucked out of him.
“I went to Grey Fume once. We were trying to buy out a solicitor practice. The owner was a snake, I’ll always remember him. He promised us one day that we could look over his books. Then the next day, the filing room had mysteriously flooded and all their papers were ruined.”
“What was your job?” I said.
“It was boring,” said Reggie. “Take a guess.”
I looked at his face. So long after the outbreak, it was impossible to tell what people used to do. In the old days, people worked their jobs so long that they became them. Postman had broad shoulders and muscled calves. Office workers had slouched shoulders and weary looks. You were your job. Now, I couldn’t tell what people were.
“I bet you were in insurance,” I said.
“He looks more like an accountant,” said Lou.
Reggie gave a smile, but there was no humour in it.
“Thanks, guys. The most boring jobs ever. That’s how you see me, is it?”
“Well it’s kind of hard to tell,” I said. “Hell, you could have been a boxer for all I know.”
Reggie coughed. “I worked for a merger company. We were vultures, really. We looked for businesses that were on the edge of failing. You know, those little family run businesses where they spend decades just staying afloat. Well, we looked for the ones who were falling apart, and we stepped in and bought them for a fraction of what they were worth. We used to take decades of good, honest work and pay them pennies for it.”
“We all did that we had to do, back then,” I said.
Gregor, at the edge of the group, stretched his muscled arms into the air. He wore his guitar on his back, and the instrument swung as he moved. The rest of us had packed useful provisions; food, weapons, water. Gregor had deemed his guitar as the only necessary item.
“Not much has changed then, lad, has it?” he said. “You did what you had to do then, and you do it now. Only now it actually matters. Everything you do make a difference, because it’s keeping you breathing. Just knowing that should make you feel alive. Me, I’ve never felt better.”
I stood away from the wall.
“We need a plan. I’m not comfortable with this route. I know we’re heading to the helicopter, but the line we’re taking is bringing us nearer to the towns than I want to be.”
“Well, there is one way,” said Charlie.
“Time for clinical science 101,” said Lou.
Charlie grinned. “At least you got my field right this time. But this has nothing to do with it. This is geography. Or cartography. Whatever you like to call it. I know a route we can take.”
“Go on,” I said.
“How’s your history?” said Charlie.
Lou shook her head. “I thought Kyle was the only boring teacher around here. You’re even worse.”
“Let the lad speak,” said Gregor.
Charlie gave him a st
ern look. “I’m not a lad.”
“It’s just an expression.”
“Anyway,” said Charlie. “There’s a diversion that avoids the towns. About a mile away from here, the allies dug a tunnel system under the fields. You see, this entire area was a hotspot for Scottish World War Two commanders, and one of their control centres was based nearby. They dug tunnels into the fields so that the Axis couldn’t spot them in air raids. It will let us skip the towns, but it’s not exactly safe.”
“As long as nobody is claustrophobic, we’ll be fine,” said Mel.
Lou looked at the ground, but didn’t say anything. She clenched her jaw.
“It’s not phobias that are the problem,” said Charlie. “The tunnels won’t have been used in decades, and there damn sure haven’t been maintenance crews keeping them ticking. The whole place will be fragile.”
I put my hand to my chin and felt the coarse hair on my face. I hadn’t shaved in days.
“I’m against it. At least the infected are a known factor. Underground is another thing entirely. We don’t know what the hell’s down there. I’ll stick with the danger I know rather than the one I can’t see.”
Gregor shifted the weight of the guitar on his back. One of the strings gave a squeak as it rubbed against his shirt.
”Scared of the unknown, Kyle?”
I shook my head.
“Not scared of it. Just sick of it.” I looked at the rest of the group. “What do you guys think?”
“I’ll take dark tunnels over the undead,” said Mel.
“I guess I could cope with it,” said Reggie.
Lou shook her head. “I vote no.”
Mel sighed. “But why? If it keeps us away from the town, surely it’s better?”
“Nope,” said Lou.
“Care to say why?”
“I just don’t think that it’s the best idea.”
“Brilliant explanation,” said Mel.
“Leave the lass alone,” said Gregor.
Lou’s face looked softer. She seemed less sure of herself than she usually was. Something about the way she looked disconcerted me, and I felt like we should back off. Besides, I happened to agree with her this time. The tunnels were just too much of a risk.
Mel had her hands on her hips. She carried a bag that was bigger than Lou’s, and almost as big as mine. It seemed too heavy for her but if she felt that way, then she didn’t show it.
“I’m sorry Lou, but it’s four against two.”
Lou squinted. “Me and Kyle are against it. You, Charlie and Reggie voted for the tunnels. That’s three versus two by my count.”
“Gregor is with me,” said Mel. “Aren’t you?”
The butcher nodded.
“So,” continued Mel, “If you want to persuade us not to go that way, you better give a good reason.”
Lou threw her bag to the floor. She gritted her teeth.
“I just hate tight spaces, okay? I think something’s going to happen and I’ll be trapped, or something. Now leave the hell off.”
It was difficult to see her like this. There was something unsettling about seeing strong people looking vulnerable. It reminded me of when I was a kid. My dad had always been the strong, silent type. His word was final, and he always spoke it with conviction. One night I couldn’t sleep, and I had crept downstairs to see my mum and dad speaking in hushed voices in the kitchen. Mum was sat in a chair with rings around her eyes, and dad leaned over with his palms flat against the table.
“I just don’t know what we’re going to do, Leanne. The savings account is dry. When’s the mortgage due? The eighth? Hell’s bells.”
There was a vulnerability that I had never seen before, and it seemed to shatter the image that I had of him. For months after, years even, it had changed the way I looked at him. To hear such a strong guy look so weak, had filled me with fear.
I turned at Lou. I was outvoted, and I knew it. I tried to make my face seem friendly.
“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” I said.
***
We found the tunnels a mile and a quarter away. The entrance was in the middle of a field, a stone staircase cut into the grass. The mouth was covered with overgrown weeds, and green moss lined the concrete steps. I could only see a few feet into it, because after that it melded with the darkness and even daylight couldn’t penetrate it.
We each made sure that we had our weapons handy. I ordered Ben to stay by my side. He complained that he wanted to walk next to Charlie, but I was firm. Reggie, Mel and Gregor held kerosene lamps. I asked Lou to carry one, but she insisted on only holding her crowbar.
The tunnels were black and damp. The darkness was so thick that I could smell it, and it fused with the musty aroma of the concrete. Water dripped from unseen places and made pattering sounds on the floor. For a while I turned at every drip, expecting an infected to step out of the shadows, but I quickly became used to it. The air was cold, but at the same time it was constricting, as though it was too thick to breathe. When the Allies had dug the tunnels they hadn’t spared a second to make them seem welcoming. I wondered if people had been built of sterner stuff back then.
The tunnels followed a straight path. Charlie said we would have to move through them for a few miles before coming out at in a field north of Larkton and Grey Fume.
Gregor began to whistle as we walked. It wasn’t a happy tune. It seemed sombre, like something that should have been played on a lonely violin. The noise travelled through the tunnels and echoed off the walls.
“What the hell?” said Mel.
I snapped my head at her.
“Something just moved,” she said.
She raised her lamp in front of her. The flame tussled with the darkness, illuminating the wall on her left. On the stone, “B12-C” was written in faded black paint. When she moved the lamp and lit the floor in front of her, I saw what she meant.
Scurrying along the floor, close to the wall as if it was hugging it, was a black rat. Its fur was damp and patchy. It moved quickly, but stopped every few seconds and turned its little head toward us. I couldn’t tell if it was wary of us, or if it was turning its head to make sure we were following it. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the rat was trying to guide us deeper into the tunnels. Get a grip, I thought.
Ben clutched my hand. I felt his fingers wrap around my palm, so I gave them a squeeze.
“Don’t worry buddy,” I said.
My words echoed back through the darkness.
Buddy…uddy…uddy.
The rat disappeared from view. As we carried on walking through the black, we all bunched in closer together. It was like there was an unspoken pact that this place was scary as hell, and that we needed the reassuring proximity of each other. The only person who didn’t was Gregor. He walked behind us, a few feet away, not bothering to mute the booming sounds his big boots made on the concrete.
“This isn’t good,” said Charlie, ahead of me.
We all stopped.
“What’s going on, doc?” said Mel.
Charlie took a few paces forward. He lifted his lamp, and cast a glow over the tunnel in front of him. He shook his head, and then took a few steps back.
“We’ve got a problem.”
The tunnel ahead of us had caved in, filling the passage way with tumbled stone. We had passed several points that split off to the left and the right, but we knew that the path we had to take was a straight one. Now, it was blocked with so much concrete that we would never be able to get through.
“Maybe we can move it,” said Lou.
Charlie shook his head.
“I wouldn’t touch it. A system like this, you don’t know how weak the structure is. You could kick a pebble and send the whole thing crashing down.”
“So what now?” said Mel. As the light from the lamp shined on her face, I saw that her skin was damp with sweat. I put my hands to my armpits and felt that they were wet. Maybe it was hotter down here than I thought.
&nbs
p; “The tunnel branched off to the right about ten minutes behind us. We could go back, take the turning, follow it for a while and then head down the first left turning we see. That should set us on the path again.”
Lou crossed her arms. She held her crowbar tight in her right hand.
“Or we could a wrong turning. Then another one. Then before you know if we’re stuck here.”
“So what do we do then?” I said. “It seems that the only option we have is go right, or go back. And I don’t want all this to have been for nothing. We don’t have indefinite supplies; this wasn’t meant to be a long journey.”