by G G Garcia
Nobody could give her an answer.
Craig sat in the back, next to a distraught Demi, with his head lowered. Tony was in the front passenger seat and gazed at the pub where Paul had vanished behind.
“What was that?” Demi continued to fire questions at the baffled young men. “Why did he attack Emma? And why is he running after Paul?”
Again, nobody could give her an answer.
Tony then realised something. They were left in the middle of nowhere, in a car that didn’t belong to them, where a deranged individual was going around attacking people. He leaned over and looked at the ignition, relieved that Paul had left the keys dangling—not that he had any intention of leaving Paul in limbo.
The windows inside the vehicle were slightly steamed up with the panicky breaths from the three individuals, and Tony turned his head to the side and thinned his eyes as his ears picked up a sound.
Tony turned around and looked behind him, through the back window, and glared out. The day had aged a little, the rain had almost stopped, and it was becoming a little lighter outside. The road behind went on for fifty yards straight, and then there was a sharp left turn. Tony continued to stare, expecting something or someone to appear around the bend and hit the straight road, heading towards them. In fact, he was convinced of it.
He wasn’t wrong.
Chapter Seven
Melvin Leslie shut his door and was now face to face with a damp and out of breath stranger. The stranger was in his twenties, good looking, appeared to be wet, and shushed Melvin as he was about to open his mouth.
“You’re shushing me in my own house?” Melvin scoffed.
Still panting, Paul Newbold told Melvin to take a careful peek out of his living room window. Melvin did that and only had to wait seconds to see a solitary figure running by. The female went by quickly, but Melvin could see that her mouth and chin were covered in blood. Melvin turned around and could now see that the young man was in his living room.
“What the fuck is going on?” Melvin asked. “Are you after them, or are they after you?”
Paul remained as quiet as a graveyard and couldn’t give the man an answer. He was just as perplexed as the house owner. He could see that the owner was wearing black jeans, trainers, and a white round neck T-shirt with the words “WARNING: Legend Loading” in black print.
Mel sighed impatiently, because he wasn’t getting an answer from this stranger, and said, “Look, if this is anything to do with drugs...”
“It’s not,” said Paul, still panting.
“Then what?”
Paul shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
Melvin tucked in his lips and pointed at his front door. “Right. I’ll need you to leave.”
Paul said, “I can’t do that right now.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because it’s too dangerous out there.” Paul sat down on the couch and Melvin sat in the chair opposite him. “I’m Paul.”
“And I’m confused.” Melvin sighed and added, “You’re gonna have to tell me what happened, or I’m just gonna call the police.”
“We tried that, but they weren’t answering.”
“We tried that?” Melvin huffed out an anxious breath and said, “Look, you better start giving me some answers. If you think I’m unreasonable, wait till the wife wakes up. She can be a right cunt.”
Paul ran his hands over his face, and Melvin could see that there were tears in the young man’s eyes.
“Melvin.” Melvin gulped and added, “My name’s Melvin.”
Paul nodded and said, “I need to go back and see my friends.”
“I thought you didn’t want to leave.”
Paul stood up and never responded to the man’s remark. “Before I go, can I take a knife from ya kitchen drawer?”
“What? No!” Melvin yelled, forgetting briefly that his wife was still in bed. “What for? To kill someone?”
Paul never responded.
“And what happens when the police find out that the murder weapon was taken from this house, with my blessing?”
“We were attacked,” said Paul. “My car is on the Stafford Road, near the pub. A girl that was travellin’ with us died...”
“That’s it.” Melvin went over to his mobile phone that was sitting next to the TV, and picked it up. “I’m calling the police.”
He turned on the phone and gazed at the screen for a few seconds. Melvin remained standing up and Paul could see confusion on the face of the owner of the house.
Paul continued to look at the man, wondering why he wasn’t dialling.
“What’s wrong?” asked Paul.
Melvin held his hand up, urging Paul to be quiet, and continued to stare at his phone. He began to shake his head and his eyes widened. On seeing this, a soaked Paul Newbold went over to Melvin and stood by his side. They both gazed at the news app on his phone. They both looked at one another in aghast and spent ten minutes watching videos of people being attacked by other people. The news was claiming that the attackers were infected with some kind of radiation.
“Where’s this car?” Melvin asked Paul.
“Stafford Road,” said Paul. “I need to get my friends indoors.”
“Wait a minute.”
Melvin put his phone into his pocket and went into the kitchen. He returned, carrying a pair of binoculars and headed for his front door, with Paul following behind.
“If I as much as see one of those things running at me, I’m coming back here.”
Paul looked down at Melvin’s crotch and asked, “Are ya carryin’ a knife?”
“No, I’m just pleased to see you.” Melvin sighed, “Of course I am. After what we’ve just seen on my phone.”
“Right. Let’s go.”
Chapter Eight
“What are you staring at, Tony?” Craig turned his head and also began to look out the back. Demi had begun to compose herself. She then looked at the two males and looked in the direction they were looking at.
“What are we looking at?” she said. Once more, her question was never answered and Tony shushed the female.
All three continued to gawp, and Demi and Craig gasped when over a dozen individuals came running from around the bend and hitting the straight road, as if they were running from or after someone, or something.
The crowd looked like a mixture of male and females, mainly adults, all dressed in clothing like normal people. It only took a few seconds for the three of them to all realise that there was something wrong, and whatever the man before was infected or contaminated with, they appeared to be the same.
“Jesus Christ in Heaven!” Demi cried.
“Stop fuckin’ saying that, man. It’s driving me up the floor,” Tony cussed.
“It’s wall, Tony,” Craig snapped. “Fuck’s sake. It’s driving me up the wall.”
Tony ignored his pal’s scolding and reached over and hit the lock button on the driver’s side, locking all doors. “Get down, guys. Now!”
Tony slid down in his seat and curled himself up into a ball. Demi and Craig did the same; the pair of them were holding hands. As the sound of running feet and snarling grew louder, the heartbeat of each individual in the car sped up to an alarming rate, as if they had just stepped off a treadmill.
Tony put his hands over his head, trying to cover his face. He didn’t know why he did this, but he did. All three had no idea if the crowd were going to stop, look in the car, and attack them. Or simply run on.
Tony hadn’t said a word to Demi or Craig, but if so much as a single punch to the window occurred, then he had already decided what he was going to do. He was going to drive away. He didn’t want to leave Paul in the lurch, but three of them were in the car like sitting ducks and there had already been one casualty. She, Emma Brown, was lying at the side of the road with her throat all torn out, and it was a fate that Tony didn’t want to experience. If saving himself, as well as two others, meant leaving Paul Newbold, his good friend, in limbo,
then so be it.
The feet went by, and Tony dared not to look up. As soon as the sound of the feet began to dissolve and they were greeted with silence, Tony whispered to the two people in the back of the car to remain where they were and not to get up just yet. Although there was no verbal response from Tony’s order, Craig and Demi did as they were told.
A long minute had passed and Tony slowly returned to his seat, his head moving around, trying to look through every window in a few seconds. There was nothing around. He sat on the passenger seat properly, looked out of the windscreen, and could see the back of the crowd in the distance. Thankfully they weren’t going in the direction where Paul went. They continued ahead, heading onto the Rugeley Road, with the exception of one. It seemed to be struggling to keep up with the rest and eventually stopped running and stood at the side of the pub, near the Wolseley Bridge.
“It’s okay, man,” he said, almost in a whisper. “They’re gone.”
Demi and Craig reluctantly sat in their seats properly, sat up straight, and remained quiet.
A few seconds had passed and Demi asked, “What’s wrong with ... them?”
Tony and Craig stared in aghast, ignoring another one of Demi’s queries.
“Why the fuck are you two dicks not answering my questions?”
“Because we have no idea what the fuck is going on,” Craig snapped. “What’s wrong with them? How the fuck should I know?”
“We need to get Paul and stop fannying about,” said Tony.
“Okay.” Craig nodded. “But we don’t know where the fuck he is. He could be—”
“He’s alive,” Tony interrupted Craig. “We’ll take the short drive up to that pub. If he sees the car in the car park, he’ll try the place himself once it’s safe to do so. Plus, we need a place to stay for a while to get our heads together.”
“Good idea,” said Craig.
“Check your phones.” Tony placed his hand in his pocket and turned on his own. The battery was down to forty percent. “See if anything is on the news about this.”
All three did so, but Tony and Craig’s scrolling was short lived once Demi screamed and made both males jump. Tony moved over to the driver’s seat and looked to his right, to the side of the road. It appeared that one member of the crowd had decided to hang back and feast on the body of Emma.
Demi sobbed. She had her hand over her mouth, and couldn’t help but look. They all couldn’t help but look, and watched in horror as the male individual was bent over Emma’s body and forcing his hands inside her stomach. Demi retched as he pulled out Emma’s bloody intestines and began stuffing them into his mouth. Maybe the body was still warm, Tony thought. Or maybe it didn’t matter to these ... things.
Demi continued to sob and Craig couldn’t help himself.
He said, “You’re gonna have to shut the fuck up, Demi.”
“That’s my friend,” she cried, and slapped Craig across the shoulder. “That thing is tearing her to pieces.”
“She was already dead.”
“You heartless bastard.”
“Guys!” Tony scolded. “This isn’t the time or the place, man.”
Tony continued to look out and took an intake of breath when the crouching male creature, or whatever the fuck it was, stopped eating and quickly twisted his head and gazed at him.
Tony gulped, as the attacker dropped whatever was in its bloody hands, and quickly got to his feet.
“Tony!” screamed Demi. “Get us the fuck out of here!”
Tony Willetts quickly shuffled over to the driver’s seat, turned the key in the ignition, and quickly slipped Paul’s car into first and pulled away. He went through the gears and kept on checking the rear view mirror, and could see that the persistent fucker was chasing them. He was only planning on going to the pub and didn’t want this thing for company. So once he had managed a fair distance between the vehicle and the male running behind, he stopped the car.
“Hold on,” he said, and then slipped the vehicle into reverse and shot backwards.
Within seconds, he hit the man and could feel him go under the wheels. He stopped as soon as he spotted him on the road in front of the car, lying motionless. He pulled the car forwards and ran over him, and was this time satisfied that it or he was dead.
Craig’s eyes widened and his nose twitched. “You ... you just killed someone.”
“I know,” Tony groaned. “But better him than me.”
Tony pulled away and the vehicle travelled at a slow speed. The other thing from the crowd was still loitering around the end of Stafford Road, near the two mini roundabouts, and had its back to them.
A minute later, it looked like the female had spotted something to her left and she began to run by the pub, over the Wolseley Road’s hump bridge.
To all three’s relief, she had disappeared from sight.
They were safe.
For now.
The vehicle slowed and turned left into the car park, near the beer garden, and it dawned on him that he had been to this place before. Tony was pleased that he had managed to pull into the pub’s car park without alerting the being and having to run over it. He parked up the car next to a black Subaru jeep and turned off the ignition. It was becoming light now, the wooden tables and chairs were set along the grass, ready for customers, and the picturesque River Trent ran by the beer garden, by the pub. A picket fence ran along the riverbank, separating the beer garden, and was there for safety, to stop drunks and children falling into the river.
“What now?” Demi asked, and brushed her brown curly hair with her fingers.
“Try the pub.” Tony shrugged his shoulders. “See if anyone’s home, I guess.”
Chapter Nine
The two of them left the house and jogged their way to the hump bridge, constantly twisting their necks, looking either way. They stopped when they reached the bridge. Melvin pointed over at the part of Stafford Road they could see. “So where’s this car?”
Paul shook his head and gazed at the Stafford Road in shock. “It’s gone. Bastards. Did they go back to Rugeley without me?”
“Some friends, eh?”
“No, surely not.”
Melvin raised the binoculars and peered through them. “I can see two bodies. Shit.”
He lowered them and handed them to Paul to have a look. There was no car but a couple of bodies lay. One was in the middle of the road and the other further up was at the side. Paul couldn’t make out the individual in the middle of the road. He hoped it wasn’t Craig or Tony, but knew that the body at the side was Emma.
Paul’s eyes narrowed and said, “Where could they be?”
“No idea.” Melvin shrugged his shoulders. “On their way back home?”
“They wouldn’t go without me,” Paul said with confidence. “The pub’s car park is behind the place where we can’t see. Maybe they’ve parked there.”
“And maybe they’ve gone home.” Melvin spoke with assurance. “I’m going back. You can either come back with me and stick out ... whatever this is, or walk home and possibly get attacked.”
“Hang on a minute.”
Paul took out his mobile phone from his pocket and started to call Craig. He received no answer and decided to give Tony a try. Still nothing. Were the phones out of their reach? On silent? Had they gone flat? Could they get a signal?
Paul feared the worst and gulped, feeling his throat getting harder. Or were they dead?
Paul cussed and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He said, “I’ll probably be safer at yours for the time bein’.”
“Wait till you meet the wife.” Melvin began to walk away, heading back home. “You might just change your mind.”
“I’m sure she’s not that bad,” said Paul, sticking up for somebody he hadn’t even met yet.
“We’ll see.”
The two men made the short journey back to the house. The road in front and behind was clear, and the short walk back to Melvin’s house was a relaxed one.
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Paul Newbold returned to Melvin’s house, with Melvin taking the lead. He went through the front door and both men entered the living room once the door was shut. Melvin hadn’t locked the door when they left; he had left it slightly ajar by centimetres.
Melvin and Paul silently went over to the living room window and both peered from the blinds to see that it was all clear.
Paul turned to Melvin. “Now what?”
“I’ll tell you now what!” a female voice bellowed from behind them. Melvin and Paul gasped, both turning around and looking at the owner of the voice. “Now, you tell me what in blue fuck is going on!”
Melvin gaped at Paul and all the twenty-four-year-old could do was shrug his shoulders. Paul could see that Melvin’s wife, he presumed, was five-four, had short grey hair, and had a hard face. She looked around fifty and Paul had no idea what Melvin saw in the rotund woman. Maybe she was a looker back in the day.
“Look, love,” Melvin shook as he spoke, and Paul guessed that he was a little scared of the ferocious woman. “I can explain.”
She placed her hands on her hips and was wearing blue jeans that look liked they had been sprayed on, and a long red shirt. Her hair was sticking up and it was apparent that she had just woken up. She said, glaring at Melvin, “Well, I’m waiting for an explanation, dick face!”
“You see, my little shagpiece,” Melvin began, “We ... Paul and I…”
Melvin’s wife, Lisa Leslie, shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Oh, I fucking knew it.”
“Knew what?” Melvin’s face was a picture of confusion.
“I just knew it,” she continued to waffle. “We haven’t been intimate for ages, and when we last did it, you preferred the back door. And then there was that time you wanted me to dress up as a—”
“I’m not gay.” Melvin cried, realising what his wife was trying to insinuate. “Paul isn’t my…”
“Oh, really?”
“That’s enough!” Melvin yelled, feeling his face flush. “I’m going upstairs to get a fresh top on.” Melvin then looked at Paul and pointed at the armchair. “Feel free to sit down.”