Dead Winter

by Aline Riva

  “Shoot it, I can't waste ammo!”

  Curtis paled as he glanced at her.

  “Joy, we're in a hurry!”

  “And you're meant to be on night watch!”

  Curtis jumped from the car, raised his weapon and took aim. The creature set its sights on him, eyes blazing with hunger and the animal instinct to feed as it hissed and then stretched its mouth wide as sharp teeth looked bone white by moonlight. Curtis squeezed the trigger, its head exploded in a burst of blood and brains and bone fragment as the body swayed, then fell. He slowly lowered the gun.

  “It doesn't get any easier. I hate killing things.”

  “Get in,” she reminded him, “And maybe I can save a life tonight!”

  He got back in, closed the door and she reversed the car, turning back on to the iced up road, then headed towards the barrier, where in the distance two men were wrapped up against the cold and carrying rifles.

  “What do you know about Flora's brother?” he asked her.

  They were nearing the exit point. She thought quickly.

  “Mickey Silk, aged thirty-nine, used to work for his sister's husband – rumoured to be linked in with illegal weapons smuggling.”

  “How do you know this?” Curtis asked.

  They were nearing the barrier. Joy slowed the car.

  “I heard a whisper on the grapevine... but it was the kind of investigation that was way above my level. But I don't care about that now, he's survived a bloody zombie outbreak. I can't let him die at the end of a rope!”

  The car stopped.

  “Where exactly are they in the wood?” she asked.

  “The clearing, the big one that leads to the lake.”

  “Thanks,” she replied, then Curtis jumped out and closed the door, told the two guys on patrol to open up, and Joy watched as one man kept lookout above as another, helped by Curtis, dragged up a tall wooden panel. Now the way was clear she drove through, following the road towards the woods as she hoped she wasn't too late.

  Sage had cleared the fence quickly and jumped into the empty playground. The whole place looked silver by moonlight, then cast in shadow as more heavy snow clouds partly blocked its light. She looked to a doorway that led into the building. It was open. It shouldn't be open, had Poppy done that? She clutched her gun tightly, senses on high alert as she made her way through the long darkened corridor. The school had been left empty after an incident, a nasty incident a week before evacuation had ever been mentioned as a possibility, when an infected child had attacked others. The building had been secured and amid rumours there were a handful of undead kids in there, no one had ventured near. It was true the fencing was secure, but that open door was still bothering her. Light footsteps sounded and she turned sharply. Up ahead stood a girl in shadow, the moonlight making her blue snow coat stand out.

  “Poppy?” she said in a lowered voice, taking a step forward.

  A sound from a nearby doorway made her turn her head. The school hall was in there, the moonlight spilling to a polished floor as she heard another movement. Shit, she wasn't alone in here and if sounds were coming from both directions... She and Poppy were not the only ones here. She took in a breath of ice cold air and turned back. She blinked. Poppy was closer now, much closer and she had not heard her run.

  “Come on, we have to go!” she whispered, but Poppy stood there still as a statue. As she looked at her, she got a creeping feeling... What if it wasn't Poppy? Another sound came from the hall. She glanced back, saw no one. She turned back. Poppy was right in front of her.

  Not Poppy.

  It was Maya, and her face was chalk white as she opened her mouth and gave a snarl. Sage rammed her with the gun, knocking her to the floor, then she turned around to see three more kids with pale, blue tinted faces, their eyes crazed as they reached out, snarling like animals.

  “Sage!”

  She turned and ran in the directions of her sister's frightened voice, dashing up the corridor as Maya got up and staggered after her as the other kids ran on at speed, their faces twisted up and eyes blazing with cold light as small dead hands clawed at the air, desperate to catch a grab at warm human meat. Sage cleared the doorway, slamming it shut and sliding the gun through the handles as the door was rattled from within.

  “I'm sorry, I thought she was okay, I wanted to get her out!” wept Poppy as she stood there with tears streaking her face.

  Sage grabbed her arm and ran, pulling her towards the fencing.

  “Come on, up and over!” she urged.

  “No, under,” Poppy said, then she dropped to her knees and crawled beneath a gap in the fencing.

  “Shit...” Sage muttered, knowing that gap would have to be fixed before those kids found another way out of the building.

  She squeezed through the gap and then led her sobbing sister over to the car. Sage didn't say a word until they were safely inside and the doors were closed, then she started the engine and turned the car around, heading back on the road that led to home.

  “Please stop crying, Poppy. I get it. I know you thought she was still Maya. But she's not...” she glanced at her, needing to ask a question to kill the building fear inside her. Poppy looked okay, but she had to be sure.

  “Did she bite or scratch you?”

  Poppy sniffed and wiped her eyes, then she shook her head.

  “No, but she did grab my coat. She looked like she wanted to eat me!”

  Fear reflected in Poppy's eyes, but after what had almost happened, Sage reasoned it had to be a good thing that Poppy had finally accepted what the affected ones were like. Until now she had thought that maybe her best friend was held captive by them, or perhaps she had thought Maya was a zombie unlike the others, one who would still be her friend. But she had realised now. She looked scared half to death, but at least from now on she wouldn't take any more chances. She had realised how dangerous it was out there.

  “She's not Maya any more,” Sage reminded her, “When people change into those creatures, they are all dangerous – no exception for anyone! You have to keep away from the school, do you promise?”

  Poppy nodded.

  “I promise,” she said quietly.

  They were almost at the turn in the road that led to home. A patrol man was trudging through the snow with a rifle and she slowed the car, opened the window, then warned him about the breach in the fence at the school that would need securing. He thanked her for the information and then she drove off, turning on to the road that led for home. It wouldn't be cosy, it wouldn't even be light in there unless she put a match to a candle, but at least Poppy was safe, and that was all that mattered.

  The clearing that led to the lake was easy to navigate in the dark, because there was a car with headlights blazing and shining into the night, lighting the lake nearby, the trees, and the struggle going on as man was thrown to the snowy ground. A noose had been strung over a tree branch and the man on the ground was curled in a ball as others stood over him and one dealt a kick to his back.

  “You're Flora's brother, that bitch was part of it!” one said sharply, and he grasped his victim by the hair, tugging his head back painfully as he wept and struggled weakly in the snow.

  “Please!” he begged, “Don't kill me! I don't know anything!”

  “You're Mickey Silk, you know all about it!” said another man, glaring down at him, “When your brother went to prison for that shitload of guns the coppers seized, word was out you were the one behind the big business, not him! You and your sister have control of everything now! We need guns, ammo and the grenades or we're fucked, stuck here in this shit town forever!”

  Mickey was breathless as he looked up at his captors as headlights shone in his eyes and fear reflected in his gaze as blood ran from his nose.

  “I don't know anything!” he protested again, and was dealt a kick to the ribs for it as another man glanced out the open window of a motor home as he swigged a can of beer.

  “Get on with it, hang the fucker!�
� he said.

  The squad car rolled to a silent halt beneath the shade of a tree and Joy opened up the door, taking aim as the men dragged Mickey towards the tree where the noose hung low above. He was dropped to the ground with a thump and then grabbed by his jacket, he struggled to stand as he screamed for help, his legs buckling as the noose was placed around his neck. One of the guys had grabbed the end of the rope, ready to give a sharp tug.

  Joy fired off shots, hitting one man in the guts as another cried out as a bullet cut into his shoulder. The man in the larger vehicle ducked down scrambling for a weapon, and as he rose up again, she squeezed the trigger punching a bullet through his head as he slumped in the seat and the wind shield spattered red. And there was a sound in the distance, moans and the snap of dead wood under frosty ground as the undead, alerted to the sounds of gun fire, made their way from the depths of the wood. Shadowy forms lumbered into view as moonlight spilled through bare tree limbs. Joy looked back as she dashed over to the man on the ground, curled in a ball and shivering still with the rope around his neck.

  “Help me...” he whispered, a shaking hand trying and failing to reach for the rope.

  She grabbed the rope, took it off him and tossed it aside, then as she lifted him to his feet, he stumbled against her. Joy put her arm around him and ran towards the car, as the sounds of dragging steps were replaced by running. Those creatures could be fast when they smelt blood. They were looming closer now, emerging from the treeline as she pushed Mickey into the passenger seat and then slammed the door then ran around to the drivers side and got in. She closed the door and put the gun under the seat, then two dead hands slammed on to the car as she stared out and a creature stared in, teeth bared and eyes blazing as it snarled, bluish white skin around its mouth was splitting and dead blood was running over cold flesh as it scraped at the paintwork, then lunged for the wind shield.

  Joy reversed and the creature hit the snow face first, then she turned the car around, heading for the road. A glance in the mirror saw none of the creatures following, now the still night air was punctuated by screaming as light snowfall began and the men not dead from the bullets were gone from sight as the zombies fell to their knees, swamping them as their hands tore into flesh and pulled out guts and pale, dead faces became smeared with warm blood as the undead enjoyed their feast.

  Joy remembered the ice and the hazards of driving too fast, and kept the speed low as they reached the road, then turned for the route that led back to the village. Now the screaming had stopped, and the windows were up and the road ahead was empty, as snowflakes seemed to glow as they fell lit by the headlights of the car as the wind shield wipers turned back and forth to clear away the snow. In the distance, the barrier was visible. They were almost home safe.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, and got no reply.

  Joy glanced at her passenger, he was slumped in the seat, shivering with his eyes closed, he had a bruise to his cheek and his nose was bleeding, but his injuries had been caused by the living, not the dead. She briefly thought about what she had heard those men say before they had tried to hang him – Mickey had been mixed up in his brother in law's illegal weapons business? Not that it mattered now. Her biggest concern was the fact that Mickey's clothing was wet from the snow, he was wearing a torn and bloodied suit and no coat and he was freezing, shivering hard as he started to curl up tighter in the seat. His eyes were closed, his teeth were chattering. She needed to get him warm before he died on her. The car reached the barrier and she yelled for someone to open up. The guys on the other side moved fast, raising the panel. She drove through without stopping, heading for home, because she needed to get the fire going, and she needed to get Mickey Silk warmed up before he froze to death...

  Chapter 2

  By dawn's icy light, the last of the outside fires were dampening down to leave smoky trails to twist in the air, dark against the snow sky above. Cold wind whistled through skeleton trees, but at least the light and the lack of leaves meant creeping creatures were easier to spot. Curtis had checked supplies and just come away from a conversation about how food stock was running low. He felt useless now, he was a farmer, but nothing grew in winter. Ammunition was getting lower, too. A guy who had just come off night shift had mentioned axes and knives and hammers would be just as good at killing those things – but that would mean getting up close. It was safer for everyone if they were handled by single, well aimed shots from a distance. Curtis had decided, a trip out of the village was necessary because that was the only way supplies would come in. The nearest town was thirty miles away and most likely over run by the dead, but so was everywhere these days – and hiding behind barriers with no food wasn't the smartest idea. Something had to be done.

  There was a small lorry at his disposal, and spare fuel, too. It made sense to do a supply run now, before things reached crisis point. The radios were dead. The TV had no signal. There were no messages of hope coming from the outside. The village had been cut off from gas and electricity supply for several weeks now. No one knew if it was country wide, or if the cities still had power. But the cities were over run. A small town seemed like the safest bet when circumstances forced a trip outside the safety of the barrier. Curtis thought about Joy, probably the best person to bring along, and maybe he would ask Sage, too. She had gun experience. Curtis had talked with a few of the guys in charge of what was left of the supplies. They would leave quietly at nightfall, this had to be done discreetly, because once word got out that supplies were running so low they had to go out and loot from the town, there would be panic - which would do nothing to ease the crisis. With those thoughts in mind, he went home to light a fire and sleep, before he felt ready to face the prospect of leaving the village to find out exactly how bad it really was out there...

  The loud knocking on the door of her cottage gave Doctor River Riley a jolt as she gave the fire a jab with the poker and then left the front room, walking down the short hallway to the front door. One good thing about this tiny cottage now disaster had struck was the fact that leaving open all the internal doors meant the heat from the fireplace spread easily through the whole cottage. She opened the door to a worried looking Joy wrapped in a red snow coat.

  “I need your help!” she said urgently.

  River stood there in warm winter clothing, barely feeling the cold as her thick jumper still carried the warmth of the fireside.

  “If it's a bite, I can't help. Is this an emergency?”

  “Kind of, yes.”

  Joy stood there, eyes wide, looking at River, who had some how managed not to panic and kept calm throughout the crisis, carrying on in her role as village doctor as best she could. She had been the local doctor for seven years, coming to the village from London in the hope of a peaceful life in the countryside. And it had been peaceful, until the world had plunged into chaos. Her short dark hair fell into a neat fringe above hazel eyes, her golden brown skin had a glow to it thanks to the heat of the fire, and she looked puzzled as she stepped back, inviting Joy inside.

  “What's this about?”

  As River closed the door, heat hugged at Joy, wrapping around her as she shivered off the chill from outside, a chill that rarely left her bones since the heating system had gone down.

  “There was a lynch mob out in the woods last night. They tried to hang a guy called Mickey Silk. He's rumoured to have been involved with John Deering's people, he's Flora Deering's brother...But that doesn't matter now. If he is a gun trader, we could use his help. But he's been roughed up and he was freezing last night, I took him in, kept him warm by the fire with blankets... he's not right, though. You need to take a look at him.”

  She paused for thought.

  “Flora Deering? Oh yes, I read about her husband in the paper – gangland shooting... Tell me about Mickey, was he choked with the rope, does he have any broken bones?”

  “They didn't get the chance to hang him,” Joy replied, “I'm not sure about breaks – he was kicked a few
times.”

  “Give me two minutes,” River said, then she went out to the hallway and put on her boots and grabbed a long, thick winter coat.

  Joy followed her out, in time to see her pause to check her medical bag, then she headed for the front door.

  “I'd better share your car,” River said, “I'll leave mine here, it's not a long walk back and I have to save petrol for emergency call outs.”

  “Maybe this is an emergency,” said Joy as they reached her car.

  “I'll decide that when I see the patient, it sounds like you've done all you can for him,” River replied, and then she got into the car as Joy started up the engine.

  Ten minutes later River was back at Joy's house and in the front room, checking over shivering Mickey Silk as he lay beneath a thick quilt.

  “His temperature is normal, he's suffering the after effects of the beating more than the cold,” she said, turning down the cover and carefully inspecting bruising to his ribcage.

  “Nothing broken... Mickey, how do you feel?”

  He grabbed at the covers, pulling them up over a slim, athletic body as he shivered again. His eyes were closed as he whispered a reply.

  “I feel like shit... who the hell are you? I'm not under arrest, there's no law any more!”

  “Joy saved you,” River replied, “So you could try and be more polite about it! And I'm not a cop, I'm a doctor. I may even be able to help you feel better - if you let me help!”

  Beneath the covers he drew his legs up as he turned on his side, trying to curl up tightly.