After the Fall

by Stephen Cross

  A gunshot from the bridge. A mass of movement. A second horde was crossing from the other side.

  Terry, his gun in one hand, and Nate’s hand in the other, reached the suspension tower. He stopped. The gap in the glass they had squeezed through was no longer a gap; the squirming body of a zombie was pushing through.

  It popped through and fell on its face. Another zombie appeared at the gap.

  The one on the floor pulled itself up and marched slowly towards the group.

  Terry raised his gun and pulled the trigger. The zombie’s head exploded in a mist of red.

  “Save your bullets,” said David.

  Terry turned to face David, ready to tell him to shut it, but what he saw behind David, further back on the bridge, left him with standing his mouth hanging open.

  The bridge was full of zombies. The horde had pushed through the sandbag barrier and was moving towards them, slowly with unerring purpose, like a shark.

  Amy followed Terry’s eyes and screamed.

  Nate clung to his dad, his eyes wide with fear, “Dad…” he said nervously.

  “What do we do?” shouted Anita. She ran back towards the glass, then stopped and ran towards the bridge. She turned to Terry, “Shoot them!”

  Terry just stared at the approaching wave, like a man on the shore, tracking the inevitable arrival of a tsunami.

  Chris scaled along the steep hill towards the bridge, pulling himself along tree roots and rocks that sprang from the unforgiving terrain. Ahead, the bridge grew out of the ground like a concrete beast, its tall suspension tower solid and thick in its lofty ambition. As Chris got closer, he noticed the wall of the bridge was dotted with jutting bricks, an elaborate pattern that probably meant something fancy to the architect, but to Chris looked like foot and hand holds. A means to scale the twenty foot wall to the section of bridge that spanned the road and suspension tower.

  He saw movement on the bridge.

  “Hey! Amy!” he shouted, so hard his throat hurt. “Heeeeeey!”

  There was a chorus of moans from above him. He looked right to see zombies appear at the edge of the road he has just been on. A thin wire fence, the only barrier between their grabbing mouths and the fifteen foot drop down the hill to Chris, wobbled precipitously under the growing pressure from the zombies. No telling how long it would hold.

  “Hey!” he shouted again.

  “Chris?” said Amy to herself. She was sure she had just heard his voice, somewhere above the cacophony of the two groups of zombies. She moved away from the group, towards the side of the bridge.

  Terry tried the doors of the suspension tower, but they were locked. He raised his gun to shoot at the locks.

  “Wait,” said Amy.

  “What?” said Terry.

  “Wait, I hear something.” She ran to the edge of the bridge and looked over. “Chris?” He was standing below her, on the steep embankment that housed the bridge.

  “What the hell are you doing down there Chris?” she said, almost smiling.

  Chapter 10

  Amy appeared at the edge of the bridge. Chris let out a sigh of relief.

  “What the hell are you doing down there Chris?” she said.

  “You can climb down, come on hurry!” he shouted, throwing an anxious glance at the billowing wire fence above, barely containing the mass of undead flesh pushing against it.

  Terry appeared at the top of the wall. “Chris? What the fuck?”

  “Come on, we can talk later, you need to move now. Climb down, you can use the bricks on the walls.”

  Terry stared at Chris for a moment, then looked down the length of the wall below him. “Ok, we’re coming.”

  Terry disappeared from the wall.

  There was a metallic clang from above. The wire of the fence broke away from one of its supports and a small gap opened. A moaning and hissing of renewed vigour accompanied the small break, as if they knew they were almost through.

  “Hurry!” shouted Chris.

  Terry, the two boys, David, and Anita came to the wall. Anita’s face turned up in disgust. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Just fucking climb,” said Terry helping Nate over the wall. Anita shot Terry a sharp glance, before clambering over the wall.

  “Come on lad,” said Chris as Nate balanced precariously on the protruding bricks. “You’re alright, I can get you if anything happens. But nothing will happen.”

  “Dad?” said Nate.

  “It’s ok son, you’ll be good. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Nate tentatively climbed down, placing his hands slowly and certainly on the bricks. Ollie descended beside him.

  Terry helped Amy over and soon they were all on the wall.

  Chris positioned himself about six feet from the wall, watching the two boys carefully. They were nearly down.

  “That’s it lad,” said Chris, “almost there, just keep it nice and steady.”

  A shriek of metal was the first warning. The loud and almost victorious moan was the next.

  A second gap in the fencing ripped open, and Chris watched in horror as a zombie pushed itself through the thin space between the post and the loose wire. A flap of skin on the zombie’s face caught on the wire and peeled back with a squelch as the zombie pushed itself through.

  “Come on!” shouted Chris.

  The zombie was through. It took a first tentative step on the steep hill, and then tumbled forward, rolling fast and hard towards Chris.

  Chris jumped back, away from the wall and the zombie tumbled passed him, its hands flailing uselessly at Chris. It was not concerned with stopping its fall, only at reaching Chris.

  More undead pushed against the fence. A second fell through the gap.

  “Nate!” shouted Terry.

  Nate fell and landed hard on the ground. He scrambled to secure himself on the steep ground. In a blur of movement and colour, he was gone, pulled down the hill by the falling zombie. He let out a high pitched scream.

  Chris’s world moved in slow motion. The zombie pulled hard on Nate’s feet and Nate let go of the tree branch he was holding, the two of them sliding helplessly onwards the cliff edge. Nate dug his hands in and managed to grab a rocky outcrop. He screamed.

  A heavy thump signalled Terry landing on the ground. He missed his footing and slid down the hill. Dirt sprung into the air as his nails dragged into the hard ground.

  Chris moved. He let himself slide down to the edge of the cliff, then pulled himself along the ground towards Nate. He held on tight to a small bush, its thorns digging hard into his hand as he trusted his entire weight to the small plant. He tentatively held out a hand.

  “Nate come on, grab my hand.”

  Nate’s face quivered in fear, his skin white, his eyes red and filled with tears. The zombie was clinging to his leg trying to pull itself up to reach Nate.

  “Come on Nate! Do it lad!”

  Nate let go of the rock and Chris grabbed his free hand. He pulled hard, his body wrenched between the bush and Nate. He was slipping.

  Then another hand grabbed his. He looked up to see Terry pulling. “Don’t you let him go!” shouted Terry.

  Chris pulled hard and together, he and Terry pulled Nate up over the cliff edge. The zombie squirmed and moaned. Chris struck out with his boot at the zombie’s head. “Fuck you mate!” He connected hard and the side of its head imploded. The zombie lost its grip on Nate and fell, silently, over the cliff edge.

  Terry slid down and grabbed his son, “You ok lad? You alright?”

  Nate cried, unable to speak, and buried his head in his Dad’s arms.

  “We have to go,” said Chris pointing up the hill.

  The fence gave way another foot and a third body slipped through the gap. It came head first down the hill, its arms waving manically and its teeth gnashing, reaching for Terry and Chris. It tumbled past, a few feet to their left, its teeth clicking with manic abandonment as it bounced over the edge of the cliff.

  “Where’s Amy?
” shouted Chris.

  Terry pointed to the top of the steep embankment, the rest of the group were crawling quickly up and away from the bridge, and more importantly, away from the section of fence smothered by the horde.

  The fence swayed and rippled, and Chris’s only thought as he saw a wide section spring free from its supports was that he was glad it had lasted long enough for Amy to get past. A gap, a few feet wide hung open like an empty maw, vomiting undead onto the embankment.

  “Go,” shouted Chris, “let’s fucking go!”

  They pulled themselves along the edge of the cliff. Several zombies at once fell through the widening gap, pushing and pulling at each other, grabbing, trying to bridge the distance between themselves and their three live flesh targets. They tumbled past Chris, only a few yards away.

  “We got trouble,” said Terry. “We can’t go any further,” he nodded ahead.

  The hill pulled up steeply, the soil breaking with steep rocks.

  “Once that fence goes fully,” said Terry, “we’re finished.”

  Terry clung to a tree, holding Nate close. The young boy was still crying, his face red, his body shaking with sobs. Chris looked around desperately, trying to find a way up.

  But there was no way. The hill was too steep now for them to climb, there were no more footholds and, being pushed further along the edge by the breaking fence above, it was only a matter of minutes before they either plunged to their death, or were pulled apart by a falling zombie-ball.

  As if to confirm his fears, another metallic ripping sound from above opened the fence further.

  He grabbed onto the same tree as Terry and the three of them clung together, determined to stay alive until the last.

  Chapter 11

  Chris had once been to the new year celebrations in Liverpool’s Chinatown, a few years ago when he was just sixteen. He had been carrying a bag of weed to some restaurant, but had been early so decided to stop for a beer.

  The celebrations had been crazy; all these mad Chinese dressed up as dragons, cymbals crashing, loads of fellas that looked like Fu Manchu.

  And the fireworks. Blues, reds, and yellows exploding in the sky, blossoming into the night like hundreds of flowers. He had nearly jumped out of his skin when firecrackers exploded next to him, just a few feet away. Some kid was setting a load of bangers off. Chris nearly smacked him round the head, but the sound and smell of gunpowder had enthralled him, and he forgave the kid, instead enjoying the spectacle.

  The sound those firecrackers had made, that was what Chris heard now. The air reverberated with a continuous salvo of bangs. No space for silence or peace, a heavy rapport that assaulted his ears and mind.

  Smoke filled the air at the top of the embankment. The smell of gunpowder drifted down and filled him with joy. The zombies were no longer pushing against the fence, they were turning to the road, and falling as they did so; their heads exploding in bright red smoke, chunks of matter splattering across the fence and down the hill.

  Nate stopped crying, he tuned to his dad. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” said Terry.

  “It’s the army,” said Chris.

  The other two looked at him.

  “I found some soldiers, I brought them here to save you guys.”

  Terry said nothing, but nodded at Chris.

  The shots died off, and a solider appeared at the top of the embankment. His beard was long and his tunic covered in dirt.

  “You guys alright?” he said.

  “Got a young lad down here,” said Terry, “we need to get him up.”

  “No problem.”

  A few seconds later a rope ladder was thrown down the embankment.

  Terry pulled himself up the rope ladder to the road, Nate on his back. Chris followed.

  The road was scattered with the rotten bodies of the dead, further decimated by the bullets of the machines guns.

  The soldiers kept a watchful gaze around the surrounding woods. Amy and the others had crowded round Terry and Chris. They paid little attention to Chris, most eyes on Nate. Chris didn’t mind, he was just glad that Nate was ok.

  Terry kneeled down by Nate, checking him over. “Are you ok, are you hurt?”

  Nate shook his head, but he was shaking, the poor boy looked terrified, white with fear.

  A shout cut through the circle of friends and Chris felt himself being pushed aside brusquely, nearly falling over. A soldier broke into the circle and raised his gun.

  “Step back!” he shouted. The gun was pointing at Nate.

  Terry looked up, his face first coloured by surprise, then quickly with anger.

  “You fucking kidding me mate, pointing that at my son? You’d better back off pal,” Terry stood in front of Nate, spread out his arms to cut off the solider’s line of sight. Terry was going red, his face creased in a furious frown. Chris moved away from the soldier.

  “Stand away from the boy, sir,” repeated the soldier, this time with more steel in his voice.

  Terry shook his head. “You’ve got a few seconds mate, before I fucking kill you.”

  More soldiers arrived, their guns raised. There were screams, Chris wasn’t sure who was screaming. The outcome was a circle of four soldiers pointing their weapons at Terry and Nate.

  Dalby stepped forward. “What’s this, Williams?” he said in an even voice.

  “Blood sir,” said Williams. “There’s blood on the boy’s leg, the leg that was being held onto by the zed. I suspect infection sir.”

  Dalby nodded, “Good observation Williams. Now put your gun down.”

  Williams hesitated, “Sir?”

  “Put the gun down.” Dalby walked over and lowered the barrel of Williams machine gun. The solider stared at Dalby, breathing fast, his eyes wide. Dalby rested his hand on Williams’s shoulder. “It’s ok, Williams, stand down.”

  Williams nodded.

  “Now, go and check the bridge perimeter. I’m guessing all this noise will see the zeds trapped on the bridge going crazy.”

  Williams walked towards the bridge.

  “The rest of you, guns down,” said Dalby.

  The other soldiers did as requested. “Now go and keep an eye on the approaches. I’ll debrief the civilians.”

  They dispersed, and Dalby approached Terry, holding his hands up. “Please forgive the men. They are a little wired these days, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” said Terry. “You don’t point a gun at a kid.”

  Dalby shrugged. “It depends. Terry, isn’t it?”

  Terry nodded.

  “Do you want to check the blood on your son’s leg?”

  “He hasn’t been bitten,” said Terry, “I’ve already checked.”

  “Please, just humour me,” said Dalby.

  Terry looked at Chris, “You know these guys?”

  Chris nodded, “Just have a check. what’s it hurt?”

  Terry, his eyes still on Dalby, lowered himself to Nate. “It’s alright lad, just checking your leg.” Nate’s right trouser leg was stained dark. Terry lifted it up slowly and Nate winced.

  “That hurt?”

  Nate nodded.

  Terry moved more slowly. Although trying to hide it, his breathing got faster. A large gash was on the boy’s leg, blood dripping down his ankle into his shoe.

  Terry stared at the cut. Amy gasped and let out a small cry.

  “What is it Dad? What’s wrong?” said Nate, his voice breaking.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” said Terry, who grabbed Nate and stood up. He turned to face Dalby. “It could be anything, he could have cut it on a rock, anything,” said Terry.

  Dalby nodded. “Yes, he could, and he could also have been bitten.”

  Anita backed off, pulling Ollie closer to her.

  “You don’t know that, there’s no teeth marks!” said Terry.

  “We have to be safe,” said Dalby. “We have to be sure.”

  Terry shook his head, “You
get away from him, you get away from us, there’s nothing wrong with him.” Nate was crying loudly, his face buried in his dad’s shoulder.

  “Here’s the choice. You want to stay with us, we tie him up for the next few days. I’ve never seen anyone take longer than a day to turn. It’s usually within the first few hours or so. Otherwise, me and my men walk on now, and we go our own separate ways.”

  “We walk,” said Terry. “You ain’t tying my son up like a fucking dog.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” said Amy.

  “Me too,” said Chris.

  Dalby turned to Anita and David, “And what about you? You want to play happy families here, or stick with us?”

  Anita and her husband looked at each other. David shrugged.

  “We’re staying with you,” said Anita to Dalby. She tuned to Terry, “Sorry, but we need to be safe.”

  “Do what you have to do,” said Terry.

  “Fair enough,” said Dalby, “but I suggest you move quickly. The noise here will have all the zeds in the area heading this way. If we see you within the next three days, we will consider you hostile and be forced to shoot. After that, you’re free to find us again. Follow if you like, but don’t get too close.” Dalby turned from Terry and shouted to his men, “Ok, let’s move!”

  The soldiers congregated from the surrounding trees and fields. They moved off together, with Anita and David and Ollie in tow.

  Ollie waved, and Nate waved back.

  Chris, Amy, Terry and Nate walked slowly along the road, letting Dalby and the soldiers fade into the distance.

  Chris noticed the lack of leaves on the trees, the brown birth of winter fading the life from the world.

  He glanced back at the bridge, where the clamour of the undead celebrated their madness in a continual cry and moan and chatter of frenzy as they butted against the bridge walls. Every now and again, one would fall to the valley below.

  “What you reckon then,” said Terry, “we catch up with them soldiers in a few days?”

  “I don’t know,” said Amy. “I’m not sure I trust them.”

  “What do you think?” said Terry, turning to Chris.

  Chris jumped a little, he hadn’t expected to be asked. “Erm, I don’t know.”