Dead Ahead

by Park, Grant

  It was in the outskirts of Hawkshead that Frank found the bicycle; a simple purple framed thing with a dozen rust patches all over it; he found it cast to the side of the road next to what looked to be a large patch of blood that the rain had tried and failed to wash away, ‘such is the stain on my heart,’ Frank thought and pondered for a while just looking down at what had been the fall of one of the sinners, a climactic moment in their old life and a start of a new one.

  He turned his attention back to the bike, it had gears and the wheels turned, that was all he needed. It had been years since he had ridden a bicycle, but as the saying would suggest, it wasn’t long before he was screaming down the hills and hopping off of kerbstones. As he coasted along the roadways Frank felt like a child again, and it reminded him of the feeling of freedom that only youth can bring; maybe it was just the cooling breeze on the blistered scabs on his face? But it gave him more pleasure than he had felt in a very long time.

  The Angels were silent again. Frank actually felt at peace without them, ’don’t think too loud, they will hear!’ He cleared his mind and simply peddled on, heading for the coast, after which he would head up towards Sellafield, he wasn’t sure exactly where it was but he knew it was on the coast and north of where he would meet the sea.

  The blow took Frank completely unawares, the sun was dipping towards the horizon in front of him and he could see the sea; all the joy had been sapped from him by the arduous cycle towards the shoreline, his buttocks and legs burned deep into the muscle as well as the flesh, his arms ached too. Why did his arms ache, they weren’t even doing the pedalling, were they?

  He and his attacker tumbled to the grassy verge and rolled into a ditch where Frank managed to throw them up and into the fence above, it squealed with anguish as its flesh wrapped around the barb wire and trapped it there in writhing agony. Frank heard footsteps back up on the road and pulled himself from the squelching mud of the ditch. Six, no, seven Infected were prowling upon the road above him, the bike was a good fifteen feet away and lying tangled between the spokes of the front wheel was his pistol. The one closest to him let out a heart shuddering ‘Scraw’ as its pale eyes fell upon him, still screaming it ran towards him alerting the others to the chase, his only chance was to make it to the pistol before they did; his feet slipped on the mud as he scrambled out of the ditch, his burnt hands dug into the soft verge sending clumps of dirt into his overly long fingernails. They were too close, he was never going to beat them to the pistol but Frank still ran towards them, he let out a war cry as his feet pounded the road, his throat was sore; he hadn’t actually spoken since the fall into the fire and his scream sounded as frayed as that of the Infected, upon hearing it they stopped suddenly just inches away from the bike. The lead Infected stepped slowly forward making a strange clicking and croaking noise, Frank froze.

  It circled him, still clicking and croaking it made a quick strike, the strike wasn’t anywhere close to hitting; it seemed to be challenging him. Did they think he was one of the Infected too? What would happen if he lost the fight, what if he got bit? Frank took a step towards the gun and the Infected saw this as acceptance to its challenge. It lunged at him with both hands, he ducked low and pushed at its chest sending it falling backwards over the bicycle, Frank leapt upon it, pinning it down with his feet while he fumbled with the pistol; it squirmed and writhed beneath him and wriggled its self free, the pistol was caught between the spokes, the infected crouched and prepared to leap, the gun wouldn’t budge.

  As the Infected launched its self into the air, teeth bared and poisoned saliva dripping from its lips, Frank pulled the bike on top of himself with the front wheel up to his face, pistol pointed upwards; the Infected landed upon the frame and dove its hands towards his face through the spokes, fingers probed towards him trying to get at his eyes. Frank turned the wheel and carefully aimed.

  The shot rang out and the Challenger collapsed in a heap on top of him, Frank threw the carcass and the bike to the side and leapt to his feet pointing the pistol at the remaining Infected, they stood all around him but didn’t move, if anything they looked sheepish.

  Frank was more confident now with a gun in his hand, he mimicked the Infected that had challenged him, ‘Scrawing’ as loud as he could and marching around the other six whom now refused to move. Unsure of what to do next, Frank walked away from them; and they followed, by the Angels they were following him, not stalking him as prey but following as they would a leader, a master.

  It wasn’t long before Frank and his followers encountered another band of infected, a larger one this time but still only one challenger, Frank ‘Scrawed’ back at the challenger then simply blew a hole in its head. He encountered more and more groups till he had such a following that he didn’t have to fight any more, groups were simply joining his army of the dead; a mass of Infected with a gargantuan tribe of Husks that trailed in their wake.

  They marched through the night and arrived at the power plant well before dawn; there was already a mass of undead waiting there to be recruited to him, attracted by the sound of the siren from the plant; and with them his army became a truly devastating force, willing to follow him and him alone.

  ‘We have delivered unto you an army which cannot be defeated, deliver unto us the one they call Caleb and you shall be an Angel again!’

  The words echoed in Frank’s head above the chaos around him, it wouldn’t be long before Caleb and his spawn came here. What sights he would show them.

  Frank saw the strange looking truck as it approached from the north; it stopped on the road with the beach to one side and the plant to the other. It was not the vehicle that he had been expecting. This would make his job a lot harder than he thought.

  Frank had tried to find a vantage point that would give him a good view of the whole plant but the land around it was far too flat, and so he had found himself circling the plant in hope that he would be in the right place when Caleb made his approach, and with the Angel’s luck he did.

  The tracked vehicle stopped at the North West corner for a few seconds then plunged its self on to the beach tearing across the sand going hell for leather towards the south; it wasn’t till it started firing rockets that Frank noticed the smaller vehicle attempting to infiltrate the power plant.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Frank said quietly to himself, “Caleb is mine!”

  Frank let out a ‘Scraw’ to rally his troops, he had been improving his technique and the nearby Infected quickly circled round, another ‘Scraw’ and he ran southward, his army blindly following, he would see them feast before the day was out.

  As Frank ran surrounded by his minions, a dark cloud passed over and heavy lumps of hail fell from the heavens while the tracked vehicle rained fire upon the small buggy crawling up the beach. With an almighty crash the Angels sent a lightning bolt down upon the plant, scattering his minions and sending them streaming ahead of him. An army Land Rover passed them by, crushing many of his devoted followers and ploughing through the fence much further up ahead; Frank regretted that he wasn’t as fast as many of the Infected who seemed to be able to run without tiring, by the time he had made it to the breach in the fence he had been left behind by the Infected and they were already swarming in and around the plant.

  Frank called them back to him and reluctantly some of them made their way back; he had to do something about discipline, he picked up a piece of broken fence and moved towards the last Infected to return to him, ‘time to see just how much intelligence actually remains within these creatures,’ he thought as he drove the metal spike into its brain.

  As he looked round to see if his message was sinking in, Frank spotted Caleb running away from him, he also spotted the tracked vehicle rounding the corner giving chase, but as he was about to give the order to follow, the building heaved before his eyes and sank violently into the ground essentially cutting frank and his army off.

  ‘They will be looking for an exit now,’ Frank thought, ‘that is where t
hey will find me!’

  Through gaps in the fence Frank saw Caleb and his small group of friends hiding and skipping between buildings, and through the gap in the gate he saw his army strike fear into their hearts. Frank watched Caleb’s capture and their imminent execution, but Caleb wasn’t theirs to kill, he was Frank’s. The recognition in Caleb’s eyes was a delight as he slid the bolt to the side; and with relish Frank released his army upon them.

  _________________________

  The gate burst open and a torrent of the dead flowed through the opening towards them, Caleb thought that he heard Michaels shout ‘fire’ but the guns had started anyway; Caleb ducked and rolled backwards away from the advancing dead. Heavy calibre rounds tore through the cascade of rotting flesh pushing them back, but not for long, wave after wave plunged into the battery of rounds as more guns took up against the flood, dropped bodies crawled towards Caleb with slavering faces. His trembling hand reached blindly for the Naginata and found the smooth ebony wood beneath his fingers, he swung the blade, slicing the rabid face in two and rolled back again amongst the soldiers.

  As Caleb took a fighting stance the gunfire receded, the soldiers weren’t where Caleb had imagined; they were retreating, and they were leaving him behind. Caleb knew that if he turned his back on the Infected now that he would be run down and eaten, he had to make a stand, a last stand if need be.

  He braced for their attack, he would soon be surrounded and there was nothing he could do. The engines of the vehicles roared and disappeared under the sound of the Infected, a rife melody of croaks and rasping throats encircled him; he turned the Naginata blade so that he could use the reflection in the stained blade to see behind him and caught a glance at the Land Rover disappearing as the Infected closed in around him.

  The first Infected attacked giving the cue for each and all of them to make their advance, Caleb swung the blade in wide circles catching as many of them as possible with each slash of the cold steel, but with each impact it slowed the blade forcing him to turn and redirect it often missing the main target and pushing him to make a stab at the closest creature to him; that in turn allowed them to close in further. In a drastic move Caleb decided to swing the blade low in several spins to strike at the legs of the infected and clearing them from around him; he knew that this would only create crawling Infected and not neutralise the threat but he needed time, the Naginata wasn’t the weapon he needed to tackle this many of them.

  With the spare time he so expensively bought, Caleb unscrewed the shaft of the Naginata and cast it to the side turning the staff into a short sword, with his other hand he drew the machete from its sheath and spun it till it was beneath his other arm and pointed behind him, the other blade above his shoulder ready to strike. This was what he needed, the flexibility to strike at any two points around him in a slash or stab, he looked to the Infected who only just now seemed to be regrouping, ‘Bring it on,’ he thought to himself with a smile, ‘If I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die laughing!’

  ___________________________

  As soon as the gates flew open Ethan dived to the side out the way of the bullets that were no doubt heading in his direction. He looked to the side and saw the panic on Michaels’ face as he ran for the tank, pushing Knox and Cassie towards the tank at the same time, they didn’t need much persuading either, both of them ran from the mass of Firsts that were being cut down by whoever was manning the twin fifty cal’s on top of the tank, and by the manic style and lack of care for overheating, it must have been Urk.

  Carter and Barnes laid down suppressing fire as they retreated, where as Coleman just ran for it. Ethan knew they had already long forgotten him so he made his way for the Land Rover ducking under their fire; as he scrambled across the ground he nearly collided with Caleb who was rolling backwards and picking up his stick, Ethan tried to call to him but he was transfixed on the advancing Firsts and by the time Caleb looked back it was too late. Ethan was already in the Land rover and turning the key, the creatures were swarming around them. Ethan kept screaming at him to move and reluctantly he had to pull the truck away to save himself from being caught up in the tide. From his elevated position in the driving seat he could see how many there were; there was not a chance for Caleb now, not a chance in hell.

  Ethan gave chase in the Land Rover, which happened to be the slowest piece of shit in the universe, luckily the tank wasn’t very fast either; so long as they didn’t spot him and start firing the fifty’s at him he should be ok. The tank took a right and then a left and suddenly stopped. Shit, he’d been spotted. Ethan considered turning around but then decided his best bet was to park the truck in the middle of the road and try somehow to jump on to the tank and find a way in; not the best plan of his life but it was all he had.

  He parked up and jumped out; he could see now that they had turned down a road that had been consumed by the hole left in the earth that had once been the main reactor. He ran round the back of the truck and skidded to a stop as he cast a glance into the back; it was filled to the gunnels with weapons, Ethan’s fingers danced around the selection and slung a rifle over his shoulder that he almost recognised, he then selected a mean looking rocket launcher and dove round the other side of the truck, hiding behind the warm engine to hide his heat signature.

  Almost as soon as the tank had turned round the roof cannon started peppering the Land Rover with bullets. Ethan took a few seconds to note that the rocket launcher had two buttons ‘select’ and ‘fire’, he shouldered the weapon with his index finger on select and middle finger on the fire button; he heard a click as it landed on his shoulder and a small female voice whispered ‘select target one’ in his ear, he aimed at the left hand track and pressed select, ‘select target two,’ he then aimed at the roof turret and pressed select; much to his surprise he was offered two more targets and chose the other track and what he assumed to be a sensor in the front centre of the tank.

  Ethan pressed the fire button and braced, a single rocket flew out the front of the launcher which then split into four separate rockets which each took their designated paths, all four of them stuck at the same time surrounding the tank in a great ball of flames.

  Before the smoke had even cleared Ethan dropped the rocket launcher and dared a run to the building on the right hand side of him, he was pleased to find that not a single bullet chased him across the street. He peeked round the corner to watch and wait; quietly hoping that Cassie had escaped any injury during his attack, but he knew it was a risk that he had to take if he wanted to save her.

  The tank sat where it had been hit, both tracks lay in tatters and the roof turret was nothing but a smouldering mess atop of it. Ethan gingerly edged his way around the corner of the building to get a better view of the back; he dropped and retreated as the back door blew from its hinges landing with a loud clang on the road. They came out guns blazing, Ethan barely made it back around the corner as bullets riddled the concrete wall, they forced him to retreat further as they marched his way never letting up fire even though they couldn’t see him, they opted to head down the opposite road and disappeared round the corner. Ethan had only managed to glimpse them as they disappeared, Cassie, Greg and Dr Fosters in toe. He started to trail them, keeping just out of view as they rounded the next corner.

  “Feeling brave are you, Sergeant?” Ethan heard Knox say from behind him.

  “Bravery is for heroes and idiots,” Ethan said as he turned pointing his rifle to the ground, “and I never could tell the difference.” Knox was stood there looking like the cat that’d got the cream, “That’s a nasty looking hole in your shoulder there, Harry. Did Jim give you that?”

  “Yeah, he did; right before I threw him off the roof at you. Made quite a mess, didn’t he?” Knox was trying to rile him, and it was working; Ethan couldn’t let it show. “That’s a nasty looking hole in your leg there, Ethan.”

  “Building bit me,” Ethan said with a smile, “But you wouldn’t know anything about that now, would you?�
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  “Hey! I was just following orders. But you wouldn’t know anything about that!”

  “What are you going to do, Harry? Shoot me down like a dog in the street? Are you that scared of me?

  “I ain’t scared of you Ethan, I ain’t never been scared of you, but you’re a slippery son of a bitch, you always were. I probably should shoot you down, just like you did Urk!”

  “So it was Urk on the roof cannon, you should never have put him up there, Harry: he’s a terrible shot!”

  “Michaels’ idea, it made more space in that thing for the rest of us.”

  “Ah, come on, Harry; come at me like a real man,” Ethan dropped his rifle, “for old times’ sake. I got a bad leg, you got a bad shoulder, I guess that makes us about even, don’t you?”

  “You would have to shoot me another four times to make you even with me!” Harry barked.

  “Another four bullets would kill you, Harry.” Ethan said with a smirk.

  “Exactly,” Harry dropped his rifle, “’cause you’re already a dead man!” The big guy ran at him with all the speed he could muster.

  This was going to hurt.

  _________________________

  Cassie stumbled and tripped as she reluctantly let herself be pushed along, it was a meagre attempt to slow them down and buy Ethan a little time to catch up; assuming that Knox hadn’t caught up with him already. Cassie perished the thought.

  She didn’t have to do much to slow them anyway; her father was doing a much better job than she ever could, though his was unintentional. He was a shadow of the man she knew, the technical and biological genius was nowhere to be seen behind those dark foreboding eyes that showed every inch of fear in his soul, he limped along on spindly legs that never travelled in a straight line, as if there was something jumping out at him from every side with every step he took. Cassie just wanted to hold him and tell him that everything would be alright, have him hold her like he used to when she was just a little girl and have him tell her the same. It reminded her of the cold spiral that he had fallen into when they had lost her mother so many years ago, the dark depression that had taken him away from her. But he had come back from that, and he could come back from this too.