Monsterland (An Apocalyptic Horror)

by Shaun Whittington

  "Now what, dad?" Junior asked with a shudder in his voice.

  "I don't know, son." Lloyd shivered, as the wet clothes were making them all tremble with the cold. "But a blanket would be nice right now."

  "This has to be the weirdest fucking couple of days I've ever had," Gordon spoke.

  Lloyd guffawed, "There's probably a few thousand people have said the same thing."

  "Where to now?" asked Joan, and pointed over to the cabin. "There?"

  Lloyd looked around the circular tiny island that was no bigger than a football pitch. Apart from the cabin, there was a shed and a few bushes and trees. That was it. It was a strange place to live. Lloyd nodded, finally responding to Joan's query. "Well, there's nowhere else to go."

  "And what if this...Mickey Round doesn't take us in?"

  "He will."

  Gordon queried with suspicion, "But what if he doesn't?"

  "Then we'll kill him," Lloyd said bluntly, and looked around for a reaction. He looked at Joan and Gordon and announced, "Although this has been forced upon us, we're a team now. We stick together. Agreed?"

  They both nodded and never responded verbally.

  Lloyd shook with the cold and placed his arm around his son. "Okay, son?"

  Junior slowly tilted his head to the side and rested it on his dad's shoulder. Junior shook his head, shivering, and sniffed, "Not really."

  "We will be."

  "Are you sure about that?" Joan asked from behind.

  Lloyd nodded, and pulled Junior closer to him as they both stared at the monsters at the other side of the pond.

  "Let's get to that shack," said Gordon, pointing to the place behind him. "I'm cold."

  They all looked at one another, turned their backs on the pond, and headed for the cabin.

  Chapter Thirty One

  Marvin, fuelled with paranoia, walked along the road with more brisk steps now that the evening was drawing in. The sky was murky, the day was coming to a close, and the last thing he needed was to be stuck out in the Pennines in the dark—not with those things out there.

  He shivered a little as the cold wind slapped his frame, then began to jog. He knew the name of the place where he wanted to go—thanks to a bit of stalking on Facebook from months ago, but he was unsure where it was. He could have Googled the Pennines and found out how far away he was from the place, but grabbing his phone never crossed his mind when he left, which was just as well as the phone was still sitting on his bedroom floor, covered in his vomit.

  He looked up the steep road that he needed to walk up and shook his head with anger. He was exhausted as it was, and this was the last thing he needed. He puffed out a breath and attempted the hill with the tyre iron still in his right hand. Once he got to the peak he rested for a minute and was bent over, panting, with his hands on his knees.

  He straightened his back and smiled when he saw that the next two hundred yards was downhill. He didn't have time to take in the breathtaking scenery, and began making his descent, but stopped after making just a few steps.

  For the first time since he had been on the Pennines, Marvin saw some Runners—at least he thought they were. He could see to his left about half a dozen of the things sprinting away over a hill in the distance.

  Where the hell were they going? Had they spotted something?

  He then turned slightly to his right, down the hill, and could see a white building. It looked like a pub.

  "Please be it," he gasped. "Please be the place."

  A smile stretched across his face, but his excitement was ruined by witnessing two figures emerging out of the area, where the building was, and were both now on the road. They didn't follow the others across the hill; one of them stopped, making the other stop, and both twisted their necks and began gaping up at the forty-eight-year-old.

  Marvin gulped and could feel his body shake. "Go on," he muttered under his breath, tightly gripping the tyre iron. "Keep on walking, you fuckers."

  Collectively, the two beings from a distance began to run in Marvin's direction, giving him a dull feeling in his stomach. His breath became shallow and his heart speeded up, making his temporal pulse hammer underneath the skin.

  "It's just two people," he said, trying to calm his nerves. "Okay, they're a bit fast, and if they manage to bite me, I'm fucked. But it's just two people. And I've got this." He gripped the tyre iron, waiting for them to reach him.

  There was no point in running.

  If he ran, they'd only run after him, and would more-than-likely catch him up. Then he would have to put them down whilst exhausted from the run, with his energy depleted. No! It made more sense, and he stood a better chance, to stand his ground and wait for them to come.

  They were thirty yards away and increasing their pace. The two of them were like Linford Christie on speed, and Marvin was pretty certain that these individuals weren't this quick before they were infected, so why were they so quick now?

  Twenty yards away.

  He could now see that both of the infected were females, both blonde, and were dressed in attire to suggest that before they became infected they had been out jogging.

  But how did they come out this far?

  This was The Pennines. Practically the middle of nowhere.

  Thankfully, they never reached Marvin at the same time—one was behind the other which made it slightly easier for the man.

  He brought the steel back and struck out at the first one with everything he had. It went down straight away, giving him ample time to remove the second one.

  The second individual was struck at the side of its head and, unlike the first one, it still moved across the ground. It tried to get up, but Marvin snarled and whacked it twice more on the skull. It bled out across the tarmac, its cracked head revealing some brain tissue as it lay. Marvin was unmoved by this and turned his attention back to the first Runner.

  It was strange.

  He had smacked it with a blunt instrument, yet there was no blood. Maybe it was just out cold. Or maybe he had broken its neck.

  He wasn't taking any chances, so he placed the bloody tyre iron on the floor, bent down, and took the knife out of the pocket of his blue jeans. Remembering that these things—people?—were still human, he felt for a pulse at the side of her neck. There was one, and it was beating at an incredible pace. He must have just knocked the thing out.

  He grabbed his knife, pulled the blonde hair back and dragged the knife across the young woman's throat. He stood up and made a quick step backward as the blood poured out quicker than he'd imagined, then he picked up the tyre iron and walked away. He was now heading for the white building. It was The White Horse pub/restaurant.

  With the knife in his pocket, he made the short journey to The White Horse establishment. He could see that some windows at the front had been smashed, and he guessed correctly that it wasn't an act of vandalism that cause this. It was them!

  He looked inside the bar area. There were a few bodies in there. Three to be exact.

  He went around the back and could see trees at the back of the car park, and a few vehicles were present. There were people inside, he thought. There must be.

  He tried the main door. It opened with ease and he knew straight away that something was up. He didn't want to call out in case some of the Runners were inside, so he opted to creep around the first floor of the pub and check it out. The kitchen and living room was bare, but looked to have been recently lived in, going by what he could see.

  He checked the toilet and some of the bedrooms, and found nothing. He had one more room to check, and pushed the main bedroom door open. He looked around and pulled the cord to, what he thought was, the attic, then the ladders slowly came down. He assumed it was an attic—he had never been to this place before and only had seen it on Facebook.

  He tentatively walked to the bottom of the ladders and looked up to the opened hatch. He climbed up, still grasping the tyre iron and feeling the knife in his pocket pricking his thigh as he climb
ed, and took a quick peep inside to see it had been lived in, and the opened skylight highlighted that the people had fled from the building by going over the roof. So where were they?

  "Where the fuck are you?" he whispered to himself. "Where are you?"

  There was going to be no answer to his question for now, and the middle-aged man shook his head in confusion. He went back down the ladders and looked out one of the bedroom's window. At the back of the car park were a cluster of trees. It was hard to see what was behind them. Then his eyes scrunched in confusion as a faint noise could be heard. It sounded like...planes.

  His eyes scanned the skies and two planes—almost too quick for his eyes—roared past overhead. He smiled, but that smile was soon lost once he saw a horde of Runners coming out of the trees that were situated at the back of the car park.

  He began to panic. "What the fuck?"

  He gazed in horror, fully expecting them to run at the building. Maybe some had seen him whilst he was looking out the bedroom window. All of them ran to the side of the building, making Marvin leave the bedroom hastily and heading to the living room window which looked out at the front.

  He peered out and saw them all running away from The White Horse, over the country road, and now making their way over the hills. It seemed that these things could be easily distracted, and Marvin released a short laugh at their stupidity. He continued to watch them and turned away once they were almost out of sight.

  He then looked around the living room and looked at the mugs that were sitting there.

  "Great idea." Marvin clapped his hands together. "I could murder a mug of tea."

  He went into the kitchen and put the kettle on, popped a tea bag in a mug, and took another gander outside from the kitchen window whilst he waited for the kettle to boil.

  "Where are you, Lloyd?" Marvin scratched at his grey hair, bewildered that the place was vacant, and asked no one in particular, "What's happened to you?"

  Marvin could see the day wasn't far away from ending, and knew that the attic was going to be the place where he was going to sleep on this particular night. He had no other option.

  Once he made his tea, he took a short trip to the toilet, then took his mug and headed for the attic.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Soaked to the skin, Joan, Gordon, Lloyd and Junior walked the fifty yards to the cabin in hope that the only person living on the small island would allow them to stay for a while.

  If he didn't? They were going to stay anyway.

  Lloyd had already made his mind up that if Mickey Round didn't give them permission to stay, Lloyd was going to stay regardless, and would do whatever he needed to do to make that happen. Even if he had to kill the old man.

  Lloyd led the way as they silently trudged their wet, shivering bodies to the main door—the only door—of the cabin. Lloyd turned to face Joan, Gordon, then Junior. He then peeped over to see the Runners still at the water's edge, growling and gnashing, but reluctant to cross and even go in at knee-depth after what had happened to some of their companions from before.

  He then looked at the tied up rowing boat on his side of the water. Maybe one day they'll need it. He then looked to his left. To his left was the Runners and The White Horse pub in the background. To his right was a place he had never been to before. It was a mass of trees, a forest, and the sight of it alone made his frame shudder.

  Lloyd smiled thinly at Junior and put his arm around his only child. Said Lloyd in a whisper, "If this guy refuses to let us in, then we still take it."

  Gordon shivered, "We can't do that."

  Joan snapped, "Yes we fucking can, and we will."

  "If we don't," Lloyd nodded over back to the pond where the infected were waiting for them, "then freezing out here or going back out there is the only three options we have left."

  Joan corrected, "Two options. Well?" Joan glared at Gordon for a response.

  "I don't know," said Gordon. "It seems wrong."

  Joan moaned, "We've been through a lot of shit in such a short space of time, and managed to come through it, unlike the Hortons, that James fellow, Stripy John and now Sue."

  Gordon was saddened when she mentioned Sue's name.

  Joan continued, "I'm not giving up now."

  "But what about them?" Gordon pointed over to the pond. "They're not going anywhere for now."

  "We'll just have to ride it out, man," Lloyd chipped in, "and hope the old man has got some food to keep us going for a couple of days. If they somehow learn how to swim, we're gonna have to drag that boat across this small island and travel that way," he pointed at the water where the forest was, "but I don't want to do that."

  "Even if they go, you can't go back and stay at the pub," Joan said, shaking her head at Lloyd.

  "No I can't." He nodded his head in agreement. "But I'm not gonna venture any further until I've made one last trip to the place. The cellar has food and drink that I didn't tell you about. It'd be insane to leave it and go elsewhere with no supplies."

  "Right, guys." Gordon pointed at the door to the cabin and added, "Shall we knock? I don't know about you, but I'm freezing my balls off here."

  Lloyd turned and knocked the door. All four shivered as their clothes dripped, and waited as patiently as they could for the door to open. Lloyd sighed and knocked again. "If there's no answer by the third knock, I'm going in regardless."

  Nobody responded.

  There was still no answer and Lloyd knocked once more with more ferociousness, and placed his hand on the doorknob, ready to try it. He twisted the knob and gave the door a gentle push. He was surprised to see it open and gaped at his son, Joan, and Gordon in surprise.

  Lloyd took a hesitant step inside and said 'hello' a couple of times to alert the owner that he now had company. Once they were all inside, Lloyd shut the door, immediately putting the place into darkness. Lloyd opened the door again to provide some kind of light and could see the cabin was as basic as it could be. It was one big room. It had a sink, a gas cooker, an old couch and a mattress in the corner of the place where the old man obviously slept, but there was no old man.

  Lloyd went through a few of the drawers. The first drawer had dozens of candles, and he smiled when he found a lighter in the next drawer. He then walked around the room and began to light the four stumpy candles that were already scattered around the place. The place soon lit up once the four flames began to dance.

  "Where the hell is he?" Gordon asked, referring to Mickey Round.

  Nobody answered, because nobody knew.

  "I'll check out the back." Lloyd began to head for the door. "His rowing boat's still there, so he must be about somewhere."

  Lloyd talk a short walk around the cabin, his wet feet dragging through the bracken and long grass, and once he reached the back of the place the mystery of the missing Mickey Round had been solved.

  Lloyd put his T-shirt over his face and his footsteps made the buzzing flies disperse a little once he got closer to the decomposed body. Lloyd had to look away once he saw the maggots writhing excitedly out of the man's eye sockets, and was convinced he was going to be sick. He gulped in a few deep breaths of air and seemed to have kept the little food he had left in his stomach.

  He had no idea how Mickey Round had died, but judging by the state of his body he had been dead for weeks. Natural causes?

  That's the problem with living on your own, especially when you're an old man, Lloyd thought. If anything happens, there's no one to come to your aid.

  He took another gape at the body and guessed that he could have had a heart attack whilst he was outside, collapsed, and never got back up again. Whatever way he died, it removed the problem of trying to persuade the owner if they could stay or not.

  Lloyd returned to the cabin to see the three sitting down on the couch, all had towels wrapped around their shoulders.

  "Great." Lloyd smiled. "You found towels."

  Gordon put his hand to the side of him and threw one at Lloyd, which
he caught. "And one for you."

  "Any sign of the old man?" Joan shivered next to Junior, and her teeth began to chatter.

  "He's dead," Lloyd bluntly said. "His body's round the back. Looks like he's been dead for weeks. Probably a heart attack or something."

  "We found some food in a cupboard," announced Junior. "Some tins and stuff. No milk or anything."

  "I don't think the guy has a fridge." Gordon spoke up.

  "The water from the sink will keep us hydrated." Lloyd took a walk over to the cupboard and could see tins of beans, ravioli and tuna. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to keep all four going for another two days.

  "I'm exhausted." Gordon groaned, and tried to joke, "It's early evening. I think I'm gonna find a corner and sleep for a day."

  "Do you think we should keep a watch tonight?" asked Lloyd.

  "Defo." Joan scratched at her dark hair and said, "I can do the first stint. Gordon can do the last if he's that tired."

  "But what's the point if they're over there?" Junior spoke with tiredness in his tone.

  "Just to be on the safe side." Joan smiled at Junior. She could see he was nervous. "If they somehow become brave enough to try and cross, or even quickly learn how to swim across, which I doubt, then someone needs to inform the rest of us what is happening."

  "And if they do?" asked Junior, unsure he wanted to hear the answer.

  Lloyd intervened, "Then we untie the rowing boat, drag it across the island and put it into the water on the other side and head to the other side of the land, where the forest is."

  "I don't want to go into the forest." Junior shook with the cold and his nerves.

  "Neither do I, son. But I don't want to get bit either."

  "What's that noise?" Gordon stood up, and all of them now stood, in silence, listening to the faint sound of engine noises.

  Lloyd peered out of the door and squinted his eyes upwards. Above him he saw two Panavia Tornados scream past, and watched them until they were just spots in the sky. He felt a presence from behind and turned around to see Joan, Junior and Gordon behind him, all trying to get a look at what had been causing the noise.