by Rich Hawkins
“Maybe he’s waiting for a bus,” muttered Gawen.
Guppy said, “Can we get past him?”
Sibbick sniffed inside his mask. “Should be able to.”
“Okay, let’s move. Keep an eye on the bastard. If he clocks us, take his head off.”
They crept past the infected man and stopped at the next corner. The soldiers scanned the street, searching for targets.
“Where are we heading?” said Frank. “What’s happening?”
Gawen patted him on the shoulder. “The world’s ending, mate, that’s what happening.”
“Button it, Private,” Guppy said.
“My bad, Corp.” Gawen looked at Florence. “Sorry, little lady.”
Guppy looked around then at Frank. “The town’s been overrun. We lost a lot of lads back there, including our CO.”
“Where are we going?” asked Frank.
“We’re heading to the school, where the police have set up a rescue centre. Before we were cut off from our unit, the order came through to evacuate the town. The last transports will be leaving the school soon and the town’s due to be firebombed within the hour. We’ve lost control.”
The air was sucked from Frank’s lungs. “Firebomb the town. Jesus.”
“We could do with Jesus right now,” said Gawen.
“I only believe in my SA80,” Pike replied.
“Bloody heathen.”
“Gawen, the last time you believed in a higher power was when you had a priest’s finger up your bum.”
Guppy stared at the two soldiers. “Cut the yap, lads. We’ll have every hostile in the area upon us.”
“Sorry, Corp,” they said together.
Private Sibbick led them along the street. Far off screams caused Frank’s skin to burst into gooseflesh. He held Florence by the shoulders and guided her in front of him.
“What caused this?” said Frank. “What happened?”
Guppy adjusted his gas mask, exhaling deeply. “Where have you been for the last few days?”
“On a stag weekend.”
Pike snorted. “Lucky bastard.”
“It’s a virus,” Guppy said. “As far as we know.”
“How far has it spread?”
“Everywhere.”
“The whole country?”
“Maybe the whole world. We’re not sure.”
Something cold uncoiled in Frank’s stomach. “Have you heard about any other areas of the country?”
“We haven’t heard much. It’s all a mess.”
“A big fucking mess,” Gawen said.
Frank could only shake his head. “But where has this virus come from?”
Ahead of them, Sibbick halted. The others did the same.
“Nobody knows,” said Guppy. “And if they do, they’re not telling the likes of us.”
Gawen shook his head. “No one tells us scrotes anything. Wankers.”
“Stop moaning,” said Pike. “Always fucking moaning.”
“Go fuck your mother,” Gawen replied.
“I’d rather fuck yours.”
Private Sibbick turned and addressed Guppy. “The school is on the next street, Corp.”
“Good,” said Guppy. “Everyone stay on their toes. Keep sharp. Let’s go, lads.”
They moved.
“Don’t say that about my mother again, Pike,” said Gawen.
“Piss off, cuck.”
“Shut up,” said Guppy, “or I will personally kneecap both of you and leave you here.”
Pike and Gawen offered their apologies.
“Idiots,” Guppy said, with something like fatherly affection, before a shadow passed overhead.
Pike stopped. “What the…”
Something came out of the sky and plucked Gawen from the street. Frank caught only a glimpse of its form, all sinew and bone and stinking of wet rot, and he recoiled from the violent flapping of leathery wings as it lifted Gawen into the air and made off with him. The soldier didn’t even get a chance to scream.
“Holy shit,” said Pike. He was breathing hard through his mask. “Not Gawen, for fuck’s sake. What the fuck was that thing?”
Sibbick fired off a short burst into the sky. Florence sobbed. Dead silence followed, as though the fighting in other parts of the town had suddenly paused. But it lasted only a second, and the screams and gunfire returned.
Guppy glanced overhead, watching the skies directly above the group. He let out a deep breath full of weariness and sorrow. “Keep moving, lads. We’ll mourn for Gawen when we get out of this fucking place.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The infected filled the street, flocking towards the school, their wretched faces revealed as they drew closer. They surged and staggered with the fervour of zealots, a mindless rhythm in their twitching, sagging movements.
The refugees retreated from the fence. People were crying and screaming. Joel made a child-like sound. His face was slack and boneless.
“We’re fucked,” said Magnus. He looked around at the other terrified faces, then to Ralph.
Ralph said nothing.
The police readied their weapons and took aim.
The infected reached the fence, trying to pull it down with grasping hands and jagged mouths, while several attempted to climb it. More of them clawed at the gate with their spindly limbs, thrashing and snarling, jaws snapping.
The police opened fire.
Bodies were ripped open and thrown back into the swarm; others collapsed where they were standing. But those behind the fallen kept coming, pouring forward like a wave.
The refugees headed towards the school. Ralph, Magnus and Joel were herded with the crowd. Ralph turned back to see the battle behind them.
The infected tore open the gate and skittered over its wreckage. The fence came down with it and they poured into the car park, closing the distance between them and the police line almost immediately. Some of the officers turned to run, but were caught and dragged into the scrum of clamouring bodies and bloodshed. Shrill screams of agony filled the air.
Several of the infected had been soldiers, their fatigues torn and smeared with gore and filth. Ravenous creatures.
The police sergeant fired his handgun into the thrusting mass of infected, and took down a few staggering bodies before the magazine emptied. He made no attempt to escape as a group of deformed figures took him to the ground. They pinned him. One of them, a young woman no older than twenty with bleached-blonde hair, forced her hand into his mouth and down his throat. An infected man buried his face in the sergeant’s groin, and his mouth came away red and dripping. The woman pulled something pink and slippery from the sergeant’s mouth, threw it away and then locked her mouth to his raw lips. The sergeant’s eyes bulged and he tried to scream before he vanished amidst a throng of squirming bodies.
Then there were no more police and the infected came for the refugees.
They slashed and clawed and used their teeth, tearing at the stragglers at the back of the crowd trying to escape to the temporary safety of the school. They ripped at soft flesh. There were wet sounds of rending and cries of terror. A woman’s scream became a liquid gurgle as her throat was removed by an Asian man with a nest of pale tongues emerging from his dripping, gasping mouth.
The infected were jackals amongst lambs, tearing through the crowd, snarling and hissing. The air stank of hot blood and slaughter. Bloated faces deformed to ruin. Rows of teeth too large for their mouths.
Ralph pushed against the bodies massing around him, crushing him. He grabbed hold of Magnus and Joel. They were buffeted and slammed by flailing arms. Magnus was hit in the face, and he cried out, clutching his nose.
There was no way out of the car park except into the school – otherwise they would have to go through the infected to escape onto the street. Some desperate men and women took this option and were caught before they could reach the fallen fence. They weren’t seen again.
A man fell against Ralph and tried to shoulder him out of th
e way, but he pushed him back. The man was grabbed by an infected woman and dragged to the ground. Ralph turned away, elbowing his way through the crowd with Magnus and Joel behind him. He glanced back to see more infected clawing through the crowd of refugees, getting closer. People were dragged away and battened upon; they either died or joined the swarm.
Ralph shoved his way to the front of the crowd, trying to get inside the school through the only door. The people already inside the school were trying to shut the door while a few men were attempting to hold it open, pulling at it with all their strength. Punches and elbows were thrown. A man spat out some teeth.
Ralph helped keep the door open. A man from the other side of the doorway tried to scratch out his eyes. Ralph batted away the man’s hand and punched him in the face.
The infected tore their way through the crowd. The panicking refugees were easy prey.
Ralph pulled Magnus and Joel with him as he pushed through the doorway, barging others out of his way. They staggered into a classroom. Bodies colliding in the chaos. Children screaming and clutching their mothers.
“Where do we go?” said Joel.
“Away from here,” Ralph told him. “Anywhere but here.”
The infected reached the doorway and poured into the school. Blood splattered and sprayed. Ralph felt warmth on the back of his head. A man was clutching his bleeding throat. People pleaded to Ralph, but he did not stop for them as he headed for the doorway leading to the corridor.
He saw Susan Blake sitting in a corner, across the room, her eyes closed, embracing her dog.
He left her there.
More screams and wails. Some people were too numb with horror to flee or even resist. Their deaths did not come quickly.
Ralph pulled Joel and Magnus into the corridor and kept moving. Refugees ran past in both directions. Some tripped and fell. Not all of them got up.
“We can escape through the playground,” he said “I think there’s a gate at the back.”
People with the same idea were already ahead of them.
Ralph glanced back to see the infected entering the corridor. The rooms behind them were slaughterhouses and no one would emerge from them alive or uninfected. A man was pulled to the floor as he tried to escape, buried by a scrum of ragged bodies.
Ralph, Magnus and Joel staggered out to the playground and halted.
“Oh fuck,” said Magnus. “Oh holy fuck.”
The infected were waiting for them.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Frank, Florence and the soldiers had watched from the street as the school fell to the infected. It was a slaughter. The screams had lasted for a while.
Now they moved along the street. The infected were everywhere.
“What the fuck took Gawen?” Pike said, flicking his eyes towards the sky. His voice was strained. “What the hell was that thing?”
“He’s gone,” said Guppy. “Nothing we can do for him now. Focus on your job.”
“Is it still after us?”
“There’re many things after us tonight, Private.”
“Very true,” said Frank.
“Contact!” Sibbick sighted an infected man coming towards them, and fired three rounds. The man dropped to the pavement, chest perforated by the bullets.
Pike gunned down a naked woman who ran at him from a side street.
“Keep moving,” said Guppy. “We need to get out of Horsham before the bombs hit. Other units will try to regroup outside the town.”
They stepped past dead soldiers on streets where the battle for Horsham had taken place. The checkpoints to the safe zone were abandoned. Broken barricades and toppled sawhorses. Shell casings on the road. Guppy stiffened, swore under his breath. An armoured vehicle was aflame, throwing light upon the faces of the corpses at their feet.
Frank slipped in a mush of blood and slick remains then righted his feet and kept walking. He pulled Florence with him. He would not let her fall behind.
Burning cars lined the street. Shapes flitted through the smoke. The soldiers slowed, rifles aimed into the grey haze.
“Steady, lads,” Guppy muttered. “Steady as you go.”
An infected man with both arms deformed into tendrils emerged from the smoke. Guppy put him down with two rounds to the chest and one to the head.
“Did you see his fucking arms?” said Pike. “Mutants. Fucking maniacs.”
More infected came out of the smoke. Rasping, snapping mouths and grabbing fingers.
“Check your targets, lads.”
Sibbick and Pike sighted the approaching infected and fired. Short bursts. The infected went down.
Frank kept hold of Florence.
“Contact!” Pike shouted as a little girl sprinted across the street. He fired, and she fell. He walked to the girl and stood over her.
“Fuck’s sake,” said Sibbick. “I hate it when the kids get it.”
Pike was shaking his head. His voice quivered. “Oh shit…”
“Focus, Private,” said Guppy. “Come on. She’s dead.”
“I don’t know if she was infected, Corp. I’m not sure. I don’t know. Oh fuck, I killed a normal girl. Just a little girl...”
“Get a hold of yourself, Private. Breathe.”
“No, Corp. I don’t think she was infected. She was normal.”
Frank looked down at the dead girl. She was no older than ten years old. The bullets had opened her throat. Her chest was wet and red. No expression on her face. He couldn’t tell if she was infected. Pike was right.
“Calm down, Pike,” Guppy said. “Calm down, son. It’s okay.”
“I killed a little girl. It’s all fucked. Everything’s fucked.” Pike started to cry under his mask.
“It’s okay, mate,” said Sibbick. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Let’s move,” Guppy ordered. “We’re not safe here.”
“That’s the point, though, isn’t it?” Pike murmured. “Nowhere is safe.”
“This isn’t the time, Private.”
Pike ripped off his gas mask to reveal the tear-streaked face of a teenager. Blonde hair and shaving cuts. His mouth trembled. He was just a boy, really.
Guppy stepped towards Pike. “Put your mask back on, lad.”
“We’re all fucked,” Pike said. “Nearly all of my mates are dead. We’re all gonna fucking die sooner or later. Like Gawen. Like everyone else. Like the lieutenant and Sergeant Baker. Like Murphy and Williams and Boyle. We’re food for the monsters. Either that or we’ll become monsters. There’s no point anymore. We’re fucked.”
Guppy read what would happen next in Pike’s body language and lunged for the young soldier, but he was too late.
Pike stuck the rifle barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger. The back of his head exploded. He dropped. Guppy shouted a wordless cry and Sibbick turned away. Frank’s ears were ringing from the gunshot. Florence held her head and made a quiet sound of sadness.
Pike’s legs kicked and twitched, then went still.
Guppy stood over him, shoulders slumped. He crouched and took Pike’s spare ammo clips then put his hand on the man’s chest. Guppy straightened Pike’s arms alongside his body and whispered something to him.
Sibbick came over and said goodbye to his friend, then stood beside Guppy. “We need to keep moving, Corp.”
Guppy gave an absent nod of his head and sighed. His whole body seemed to sag and his voice had lost some of its strength. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”
Frank guided Florence away from Pike’s body and the mulch of brain and skull fragments on the road. She looked back at him and her face was the colour of moonlight. The girl was trembling and gaunt.
Sibbick took point. Guppy walked behind Frank and Florence.
They left Pike where he had fallen.
*
Frank tried to ignore the far off screams echoing around the streets. He moved his greasy fingers around the axe handle as his limbs shook with adrenaline and dread. He looked at Flore
nce and smiled. She looked away.
There were more bodies here, and one of them was moving, pulling itself along the ground towards them. It was an old woman with her legs severed at the knees. Her abdomen was bloated and puffy. She hissed as the group moved past her, out of reach.
“Keep moving, Frank,” said Guppy. “No point dwelling.”
“It’s difficult.”
“I know.”
“What is this virus?”
“Wrath of God, maybe.”
“You religious?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“I believe He’s strictly Old Testament. I’ve seen too much to believe in a loving God.”
“Fair enough.”
They walked on.
Corpses had been piled against a shop doorway. Frank couldn’t help looking at their faces. Cloudy eyes and mouths hanging open.
“Who piled them up?” he asked.
“We did,” said Guppy. “They were infected. We were trying to keep the roads clear.”
“I’m getting used to seeing dead bodies.”
“I have been for years. The first corpse I saw was a little boy in Iraq in the second Gulf War. A high calibre round blew out his spine. He didn’t die straight away, which seems to be the way of things when children are concerned. Took me a while to get over it, but I did eventually, which in itself is quite disturbing. I’ve seen so many dead.”
Guppy glanced at Florence, probably concerned that he’d said too much to upset her, but she was staring straight ahead, holding Frank’s hand, saying nothing.
“I’m sorry about Pike,” said Frank.
“He was an idiot. But he was a good lad. He’d heard yesterday that the rescue centre his parents were at had gone silent.”
Frank had opened his mouth to speak when he sensed something moving above them, but when he looked up, it was gone.
“You saw that,” said Guppy. He raised his rifle and called to Sibbick.
The group halted. Frank scanned the dark street.
Another flash of movement above them, followed by the flutter of flapping skin. The cold breeze touched the back of Frank’s neck. He sniffed the air and winced at the stink of wet rot.