by Park, Grant
I am sorry that I cannot be with you now, and I am sorry that I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.
Mac and I are staying behind to ensure the safety of the others left behind in the complex. Someone needs to warn them, and someone needs to destroy the computer room, also. I am sorry that it had to be us, but it had to be someone!
I have left some radiation suits with Sergeant Rigby, be sure to use them as you approach the power station.
After disabling the station it will still not be safe for you in the area, I would suggest that you head north, the further the better.
I wish we had more time.
I love you, Cupcake.
Dr Jonathan Fosters
Cassie blinked away the tears and let them fall upon the letter, it was so typically her father, concise and to the point, everything she needed to know and everything she needed. She only wished he had left details of where they could meet if they made it through this, but maybe that was the point. He didn’t want her to wait for him, to endanger herself in a vain hope he had made it out alive.
She folded the paper and slipped it into her coat pocket, pulled the bowl of cold beans and chopped spam toward herself and forced herself to eat.
After she had eaten she decided to join the others in the lounge, as she exited the kitchen she found Ethan on a chair in the hallway, guarding the door.
“Thought you might want to be alone?” said Ethan.
“I did, but I’m fine now,” she answered.
“Shall we...?” Ethan said as he gestured towards the lounge.
“Let’s....” Cassie accepted with a smile as if being invited to dance.
As they moved through, Dr’s Cooper and Stewart were quietly grumbling in the corner over something that she couldn’t quite make out, the others turned to watch them as they entered. Sarah was quick to rise and come over to comfort Cassie and lead her to the makeshift bed that had been prepared for her.
“How are you feeling, dear?” She asked whilst pushing her spectacles up her nose with her index finger. She had her wild red hair pulled back into a pony tail, which made Cassie herself conscious of her own hair which she tried to tame with her hands as she sat down.
“I am doing better thank you, much better.”
“Did you manage to eat?”
“I did, though I didn’t much feel like it.”
“Yes, it was the same for most of us. But it is important to keep your health up, especially now.”
Ethan then called for everybody to quiet down and to try to get some sleep, the light was fading fast, and just before it disappeared completely, the room was bathed in the ominous deep red glow of sunset.
Sleep, however, wouldn’t come easy. Cassie found herself thinking of all the people she would never see again, her father not least of all. Now that she was out of the complex, the shocking realisation of just how terrible things actually were out there struck her. Before hand she had thought that there must be large groups of survivors holding up around the country, making new lives for themselves in this hell. Could anyone ever actually make a new life here; when every day could be your last?
She could hear the others in the room tossing and turning, evidently having the same troubles as her in getting to sleep. She lay there caught in her own thoughts till she heard the soldiers swapping shifts in taking watch. Had she really been laid there so long? She held herself tightly and tried to regulate her breathing in a vain attempt to send herself to sleep.
The night wore on.
Cassie was awakened by the sound of hushed voices talking in the darkness.
“Definitely a vehicle, E....”
“Which direction was it headed?”
“Same as us.... Heard it before I saw it, on the main road I think.”
“Ok, Jim. Keep an eye out for it, come get me if it comes back.” Jim moved silently out of the room and back upstairs.
“Do you think it could be the others from the bunker?” Cassie whispered, careful not to wake Sarah.
“I don’t know, Cass. It could be anybody. We have no idea how many people are still out there. It does seem strange that they are travelling at night though.”
“When got to go, you got to go.” From a dark corner came the elderly voice of Nathan, “Speaking of which, I got to go!” He chuckled and started to shuffle his way to the door.
“Do you want someone to go with you?” Ethan asked.
“I have been managing just fine on my own for quite some time thank you.” Nathan answered sarcastically as he left the room.
The uncomfortable silence returned to the room as Nathan shuffled down the hall to the bathroom. Cassie’s thoughts returned to that of her father; she imagined him in the car that had passed, getting further and further away.
Suddenly there was an almighty crash and the sound of glass breaking from beyond the door.
Before Cassie knew what she was doing she was up and following Ethan out of the door and down towards the bathroom. Ethan burst through the bathroom door with a swift kick to reveal Nathan wrestling with a first gen’ in the bathtub by the light of a single flickering candle; it must have been a first gen as it appeared to have thrown its self through the bathroom window. Ethan swung the back of his rifle at the monsters head like a bat, it connected with a sickening crunch, sending the monster colliding with the bath taps, Ethan placed one of his boots on its neck, drew a knife and plunged it through an eye socket. The first gen’ squirmed at first and tried to cry out from its lipless mouth, it quickly began to spasm as it held on to what it thought to be life, its hands still clutching at Ethan’s trouser leg.
The lifeless corpse soon fell slumping back, its collar catching on a tap, hanging it there with its head at an angle, blood and saliva dribbling from its mouth.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Ethan asked angrily as he snuffed the candle.
“I.... I don’t know. I didn’t want to pee on the seat.” Nathan answered shakily.
“Are you ok Nathan? Did it bite you?” Cassie asked worriedly as she helped him out of the bath.
“I don’t know. My arm hurts; I think I may be bleeding....”
Bright moonlight suddenly spilled through the broken bathroom window and the full horror of Nathans wounds was revealed to them. Nathan was cradling his arm, he had his shirt sleeve rolled up though it was soaked through with blood, and it looked as if the whole lower part of his forearm had been torn away.
“I.... I can’t move my hand.”
“Oh shit! Medic...!” Ethan shouted, he quickly bent over and pulled Nathans belt from the trousers he was wearing and wrapped it around his arm, cutting off a little of the blood flow.
“I don’t feel so good...!” Nathan said as he started to teeter on the edge of the bath.
“I’m sorry, Nathan, I’m so sorry!” Cassie said, trying to console the elderly man, catching him before he fell.
“We may have to lose the arm!” Ethan said as Jim rushed into the room.
“He would never survive, He can’t take the shock!” Cassie said holding Nathan tightly.
“He’s already in shock, Cass”
Just then Nathan started convulsing, falling backwards out of Cassie’s grip and into the bathtub, limbs flailing wildly for a moment and then nothing, he just lay there staring at them; a light died somewhere in his eyes as he gazed up at them.
He was up and flying towards Cassie before she even knew it; faster than she had ever seen him move alive.
Ethan grabbed him by the neck and twisted sharply, there was a loud crack and Ethan let go, obviously expecting him to drop to the ground, but he kept coming, his head flopping loosely around on his shoulders, jaws snapping. His hands grabbed hold of Cassie’s shoulders and he lunged at her to take a bite, only managing to head butt her square on the nose.
Cassie’s vision went black, she could still hear the shouting around her, and feel the cold tiles under her hands; she must have dropped to the floor. Her neck hurt. Oh god, had h
e bitten her? She could taste blood.
Slowly her vision returned; Ethan and Jim were crouched down beside her with worried looks on their faces.
“Did he get me?” She demanded as she wiped away the tears from her eyes.
“You’re ok, he butted you in the nose a cracker but you’ll be fine,” answered Jim “I’m going to have to straighten it out for you though.... Grab hold of something!”
Before she had the chance to look for something to grab hold of, Jim had reached up and grabbed her nose with one hand and the back of her head with the other. It sounded like the whole of her face crunched as he realigned her nose, the pain was excruciating and her eyes streamed with tears.
“I can’t promise you will ever be as pretty as before, but you will be close to it” Jim added as he let go of her head, his hands covered in blood.
She scowled deeply at him. What would she care about her looks? She had nearly been eaten by that thing.
Jim looked abashed at what he had just said; he looked to Ethan and quickly left the room.
“He didn’t mean anything by it, Cass. He just.... I don’t think he has ever treated a woman, medically that is.” he said with a slight smile.
“It’s not that. It’s that thing. I mean, Nathan. Oh no...! Poor Nathan....”
“I know, I’m sorry, Cass; but I’m not sure we are safe here now.”
“I’m not sure we are going to be safe anywhere, Ethan. The world’s not the same place it was when we went into that bunker all those weeks ago. All the people out here that have survived could be trouble for us, never mind the zombies!”
“We will be ok, don’t you worry.” Ethan handed her a roll of toilet paper, “You may need this for your nose!”
Jim burst back into the room.
“We got company, Boss!”
“Living or dead...?”
“Dead...! And plenty of them!”
_________________________
‘Crunch’
Another blow landed on Jon face.
He was on his knees, back to a post with his ankles and wrists tied on the other side of it; he felt like his shoulders were trying to dislocate themselves, he almost longed for it to happen, just to have the incessant pain over with. He tensed as one of the eight soldiers surrounding him moved in for another shot.
He heard the door open and the soldiers be called to attention, Michaels was back with Knox and two other soldiers. A coarse piece of blue rope was pulled across Jon’s moustache and tied around the post, forcing him to face his captor.
“Apparently you still refuse to talk, Fosters. Why don’t you just tell us where they are heading?” Michaels asked.
Jon just stared Michaels in the eye; there was no way that he was going to tell them anything.
“Oh well.... I may have something here that may change your mind,” Michaels pulled on a pair of stout leather gloves and reached into a box behind him. Jon couldn’t quite focus on what it was that he was holding. His heart sank as his eyes focussed.
Michaels sat the head on a chair beside him, its long blonde hair cascading over the edges of the seat.
It couldn’t be Cassie! It couldn’t!
Michaels started to gather the hair into his hands and the head snapped at him as his hands passed its face.
“Now, now young lady, you will get your chance.” he said casually as he lifted the head squarely off of the chair by its hair and walked slowly up to Jon, the head gently swinging as he stepped.
“Do you even know where your daughter is...?” he asked with a smile, “Oh no, Doctor Fosters, this isn’t your beautiful daughter, this is just some poor unfortunate floozy one of the boys found wandering around outside”
Michaels started swinging the head closer and closer to Jon’s face; it started snapping at him as it drew closer.
“Oh, I think she likes you!” Jon could hear some of the soldiers laughing around him as the head snapped inches away from his face, the rancid smell filling his nostrils. How could he have ever thought that this thing was Cassie?
“Where is she, Fosters?”
Jon struggled to form the words in his mouth, his throat was so dry. Michaels saw he was trying to speak and slowed the swinging head.
“No....” Jon coughed out. Michaels moved closer.
“Never....” he spluttered through bleeding lips as the head swung closer still.
“Piss off to hell!” Jon spat the words with such ferocity that he sprayed Michaels’ face with blood. The pompous bastard leapt back aghast.
Michaels’ eyes quickly burned with rage as he swung the head back over his shoulder and down between Jon’s legs.
Jon tried to crumple under the pain, but the ropes held him there. Again Michaels swung the head, sending crashing between his legs. Jon felt like he was about to pass out. A third time the head was swung and when it connected it stayed there. The head had bitten down on part of Jon’s anatomy; but he was in too much pain to know which part. He could hear the soldiers around him whooping and laughing as Michaels tugged on its hair.
“I have heard of giving head, but this is ridiculous....” shouted one of the soldiers, sending the rest of them into fits of laughter. Jon felt like he was about to throw up.
Michaels pulled out his pistol, fired a round into the head and crouched down beside him.
“Hmm, no blood! You appear to be quite the lucky man, Fosters.” He said, inspecting the heads mouth. “We will find your daughter, Fosters,” he added, dropping the head and grabbing Jon by the chin, “and when we do you are going to know the true meaning of losing it all!” His tone was disgustingly smooth and calm, like a buttered slug; bile rose in Jon’s throat
Jon held Michaels’ gaze as long as he could but the immense pain he was under forced him to close his weeping eyes. “Bag him up and throw him in the back of the truck.” He heard Michaels command as he walked away. True to form, the soldiers did as they were told. Jon was cut down and rebound, he then had his head covered with a dirty sack, which smelled like it had been used as an animals bedding. He was thrown into the truck, but not before he heard some of the conversation between Michaels and Knox.
“Do you want the boys ready to head out, Sir?”
“Within the next ten minutes, Staff Sergeant!”
“Where are we headed for sir?”
“In the long run.... Sellafield. But we need equipment first. We will be headed north, back to where I was stationed before I.... before the bunker, hopefully there will be something left there that we can use.”
Jon’s heart sank as he lay uncomfortably on the truck bed floor. Michaels had guessed their plan. ‘But why then would he keep beating me?’ he thought to himself, ‘You’re trying to break me, Michaels! But I won’t let you…!’
It wasn’t long before the angry kicking feet of the soldiers returned to the back of the truck, laughing and joking as they casually trampled Jon’s ankles, legs and fingers.
“Should have seen it, man! Knox kicked him right in the back of the head, then he had him round the throat! Coleman shit himself!”
“I’d shit maself too if Knox had hold of me!”
“That’s cause you are a pussy though!”
“Fuck off! I’d like to see you go toe to toe with Knox!”
“No fuckin’ problem! So long as I got me rifle an’ he’s asleep! Ha!”
“Haha! Even then you’d think twice!”
“Haha! Give us a slug of that water, Harper!”
“Fuck off! Get your fuckin’ own! Coleman’s got them.”
“Oi, Bitch! Chuck us some water!”
“Yeah, Bitch...! Some here too!”
“Fuck me, is that food?”
“Grubs up, Boys!”
“Want some, Sir?”
“I’ll eat later, we’re movin’ out!” said Knox in his distinctive bellow.
“Some for Emi.... the Major, Sir?”
“He has more refined tastes than us common grunts, Bolton!”
“I’
ll have the Majors share, Cookie!”
“You’ll have the end of my cock, Deane. Shut up!”
“Harper!”
“Yes, Sir?”
“As we are denied the pleasure of Sergeant Rigby’s company, you will be acting sergeant. Until we find the cunt and kill him, that is!”
“Sir Yes, Sir!”
“Hear that you bunch of lousy bastards? You’re all my bitches now!”
“Fuck you, Harper!”
“That’s fuck you, Harper, Sir!”
As the truck pulled away from the barn that they had taken shelter in, Jon could smell the strong scent of the food through the mustiness of the sack, making his stomach growl in complaint. His mouth was so dry he could feel the individual taste buds on his tongue scraping against the roof of his mouth.
Eventually, despite his thirst and hunger, despite the soldiers laughing and joking, Jon fell into a blissful sleep, devoid of thought.
Jon awoke to the sound of what he thought was someone sawing wood. He felt a great weight upon his stomach. The sound of sawing wood turned out to be one of the soldiers snoring. Was someone using him as a pillow? Jon tried to turn over but received two sharp jabs for his efforts. Even with his head sack on Jon could tell that it was night. He heard the sound of one of the soldiers moaning.
“Fucking hell, Cookie! What did you put in that? My guts are churning here!”
“I didn’t put nothing in that won’t kill you!”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m dying here!”
“Man up would you, no one else is complaining!”
“Fuck! I think I just shit myself!”
“What? Oi! The fuck are you doing?”
“I gotta take a shit! Hold on to me while I hang my arse over the tailgate!”
“Fucking hell, Gordo! That’s nasty!”
“It’s you what done this to me! Probably cooked us an old mangy dog or somethin’!
Hold on tight.... Oh-h-h-h-h-h...!”
It sounded like someone was tearing a sheet of thick cardboard in half. Other soldiers started to wake to the awful sound and smell of the incident. Splutters and spurts continued to sound from the back of the truck.