View

by J N Wood

  It was very hard to breathe at times, especially when the wind died down, and I was constantly coughing. Occasionally I would see zombies doing their dormant state thing, and I would have to painfully hold back a cough. More often than not it would try to force its way through my nose, so the inside of the t-shirt wrapped around my face was covered in snot. All of these things combined were making me even more pissed off with life.

  I stopped to pull my shirt down from my face and coughed. I was doubled over and felt like the coughing was never going to stop. I’d have killed for a sip of cold water.

  Four hours of avoiding fires and sleeping zombies had taken its toll on my body. I’d finished my bottles of water within the first hour. My skin felt like it was on fire and I was wheezing at every breath. I could barely see so I was surprised I hadn’t actually walked into a sleeping mob of zombies.

  To be honest it would have felt like a relief to be eaten alive.

  The house was just around the next bend. I couldn’t believe I’d actually made it and Mountain View was gone, it was all gone.

  This was definitely it. I pulled out the scrap of paper with Jack’s handwriting on it.

  1876 Runningwood Circle.

  The number was still visible on a sign on one of the gate posts, its edges blackened from the fire. The house behind the gate was just a pile of smoking rubble. Nothing had been left untouched by the flames.

  I dropped down to my knees. I honestly didn’t know if the new tears were from the smoke or from the devastating feeling of failure that rapidly consumed me.

  I’m sorry Jack, I really am. I’m too fucking late. I’m so sorry.

  I leaned forward and held my head in my hands. What the fuck was I going to do?

  Looking up to the sky I shouted, ‘Fuck!’ before lurching forwards and violently coughing again.

  Through the coughing I could hear a strange flapping noise behind me. I tried to place the sound, it sounded like someone shaking out a wet towel. I turned around to see a ball of flames moving around the bend. I tried to blink away the tears whilst looking at the bizarre sight in front of me. It took me a few seconds before I realised something was inside the fireball, and propelling it towards me.

  ‘Oh fuck off!’ I shouted and stood up. I unholstered my gun and took aim. I couldn’t see where its head was but I pulled the trigger anyway, once, twice, three, four times. It was still coming.

  ‘Oh come on! Just fuck off will you!’

  Aiming higher I pulled the trigger twice more. It was still getting closer, so I aimed much lower and fired one more time. The ball of flames fell to the floor.

  What the fuck was that? Had someone doused a child sized zombie in petrol and set fire to it?

  The hissing was back again but I couldn’t see them for the smoke. Either the gunfire or my shouting had drawn some more of them out.

  I honestly don’t care any more.

  How many times had I fired?

  It really doesn’t matter so let them rip me to shreds. I’m just gonna kill as many as I can.

  The smoke cleared just for a second or two, allowing me to see some of them.

  One, two, three, oh for fuck’s sake, stop counting them you idiot.

  I took aim at the closest one.

  At least these zombies weren’t on fire.

  I pulled the trigger but only succeeded in removing a section of its neck. I took a deep rasping breath before firing again, this time shooting it full in the middle of its nose. It fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

  The next zombie went down the first time as my shot hit it right on the bridge of its nose.

  I’m getting better at this shit.

  Six of the fuckers were still coming at me from various directions through the swirling smoke. Did I have that many bullets left in the gun?

  I fired at the next one and missed. These were a bit further away, but I couldn’t afford to wait until they were closer. I fired again and missed, again.

  Fuck’s sake.

  I took a slow breath and swallowed back a coughing fit. The next shot took it down. I swivelled slightly to my right and pulled the trigger, another zombie going down first time.

  I didn’t even have to think about that one.

  Trying the same tactic I quickly fired at the next runner, missing by an absolute fucking mile. The shot had been well off target. I took aim again, but found myself on the floor before I was even aware that something had hit me. My face was starting to feel hot. It felt like it had taken the brunt of the impact when I hit the tarmac.

  Fuck’s sake, my face was nearly back to normal after the truck crash.

  A heavy weight was pinning me down. I heard the gnashing teeth before I glanced to my right and saw them. I’d already instinctively thrust out my right hand, the butt of my gun was pressed against the thing’s neck. I couldn’t twist the gun around to aim it at its face, so I pushed with all my strength, swivelling my body around until I was lying on my back. All I could see was a bloated face leering over me, saliva dripping out of its mouth and falling onto my neck. I swallowed back the rising bile in my throat and grabbed its rotting neck with my left hand. I could feel bones and other disgusting things you shouldn’t be able to feel when you grab a person’s neck.

  My right hand was free, so I rested the barrel of the gun against the side of its head and pulled the trigger. There was a splattering noise as the contents of its head hit the tarmac. Dark red gore poured out of its mouth, landing on my chest.

  I pushed the dead weight off before any more of its insides fell onto me, and managed to get to my feet. Aiming at the next attacking zombie I pulled the trigger. There was just a short series of clicks as the barrel slid backwards.

  Shite.

  I ran towards it and just as it laid its hands on me, I smashed the butt of my gun into the centre of its forehead.

  I’d timed the blow perfectly. Or I was very lucky.

  With a loud crack the zombie slammed into me and fell to the floor. It nearly took me down with it but I managed to stay on my feet this time.

  That was an excellent way to kill them, really hurts your wrist but very efficient.

  I looked up from the body at my feet. Three zombies were still running towards me. I put my gun back in my holster to save my painful wrist, and glanced behind me to make sure nothing was gonna attack me from Sarah and doodah’s house. Reaching behind to the side pockets on my backpack, I grabbed the little axe with my right hand and a screwdriver with my left.

  Unfortunately the three remaining zombies were all a similar distance away, I wasn’t gonna be able to take them one at a time.

  I tried to slow my breathing down and waited.

  ‘Come on then you horrible fucking cunts!’ I shouted.

  A few seconds later I noticed one of them was a better runner, and was slightly ahead of the other two, so I raised my axe and started running towards it.

  It was really swinging its arms and pumping its legs, desperate to get to me. But then I must have blinked, because all of a sudden it’s arms hung limply by its sides and it was flying sideways through the air. It hit the ground with a thud and skidded across the tarmac. I stopped running and saw the other two zombies almost simultaneously fall to the floor.

  ‘What the fuck?’ I whispered.

  I looked to the closest zombie, the one that went down first, and saw a thin black stick protruding from the side of its head. The other two also had similar looking things sticking out of their heads.

  Another zombie appeared through the smoke and started to move towards me, so I repositioned myself and raised my axe again.

  ‘Hey wait. I’m alive man,’ the zombie said.

  ‘What?’ I gasped.

  I tried wiping my eyes, just making it worse. The figure in front of me was dressed all in black, with something wrapped around his face. I glanced down and saw a crossbow in his hand.

  That explains the sticky looking things sticking out of the zombies’ heads then.

/>   The crossbow carrier turned his head slightly but kept his eyes on me. ‘Jack! Is this him?’ he shouted.

  ‘You what?’ I asked. ‘What did you just say?’

  The smoke shifted and two more black clad people appeared, also carrying crossbows.

  ‘Did you just…’ Another coughing fit stopped me. I cleared my throat and tried again. ‘Did you just say Jack?’

  The man placed his boot on the zombie’s face. He bent over and yanked the arrow out of the zombie’s head, coming out with a sickening sucking sound.

  Turning away he said, ‘Hey, this guy is British, could be him.’

  I leaned to my right to look around the crossbow man, and tried to see further into the swirling smoke. The other two crossbow people parted and a figure emerged from behind them. His head was heavily bandaged and his right eye was completely covered up, but I could tell it was definitely him.

  ‘Chris!’ he called, and then started to laugh.

  ‘Jack?’ I shouted.

  I couldn’t fucking believe it. The tears definitely weren’t just from the smoke now.

  ‘Jack!’ I shouted again and ran to him. I noticed he had a slight limp as he walked towards me.

  When we met I wrapped my arms around him and lifted him off the floor. ‘Fucking hell, I thought you were dead you fucking arsehole! Where the fuck were you?’

  He was still laughing when he said, ‘Okay, not so tight, I’ve got a couple of broken ribs.’

  When we finally stepped back from each other I held onto his arms.

  He screwed up his face in revulsion. ‘Fuck me Chris. What happened to your face?’

  ‘What? My face, what about your face?’

  Actually, my face did hurt like a mother fucker.

  I looked past Jack to the charred remains of the house behind. ‘Shit Jack I’m so sorry. I was too late. It took me too long to get here.’

  Jack did something I wasn’t expecting. He smiled.

  ‘Don’t worry Chris. Beth left me a message just like you did. They set off for Canada six days ago.’

  THE END OF BOOK ONE: VIEW

  Coming soon

  BOOK TWO: BORDER