by West, Mark
To William’s horror, a girl, no older than him, is lying on the ground, two holes in her stomach, gasping for air.
‘Oh man.’
He doesn’t know what to do. The girl goes limp, collapses on the road and closes her eyes. The Infected with the missing hand rounds the van, taking William by surprise. He raises his gun and unleashes two rounds into its body, driving it back onto the ground.
‘It’s all your fault!’
William’s jaw is clenched in anger as he stomps over to the injured Infected. One of his bullets has dislodged an elbow, the other has removed most of its leg. He glares and spits.
‘Screw you!’
He kicks it in the face.
‘Screw you, you freaks. Screw you!’
William pulls back furiously on the action, aiming into the Infected’s mouth.
‘You are nothing but freaks. Utter freaks.’
He pulls the trigger, but nothing happens. He tries again. Nothing. He checks the magazine. Empty. He tosses the gun to one side, draws a knife from his belt and gets down on his knees, careful to avoid a flapping arm.
‘You have made my life hell, all of you.’
He then jams the knife into its ear then draws it free and wipes it on the Infected’s clothes.
William stands and looks back at the van. Blood is spreading out over the ground – red blood, non-infectious.
He looks away.
‘Sorry.’
Chapter 50
A crying shame
I know we are in trouble when the pair approach Lincoln. The battle is over, cut short by the unexpected visitors. Lincoln and the Infected both seem to have sustained severe injuries. They both look like shit.
I recognised the woman right away: slender, long black hair and a gimpy arm. I get a deep sense of satisfaction knowing I broke that arm. Such a small payback for the pain she has caused me. She deserves so much more.
That annoying child is still hovering by her side – like a smell that won’t go away. She doesn’t seem to have aged since I last saw her – around ten I’d say – and still wearing the same set of stained pyjamas. I notice her pink shoes right away, but they have lost most of their sparkle. Those fricken shoes still haunt me, and what she did to Tyler.
The pair walk purposefully towards Lincoln and the Leader, heads high. There is no doubt who is in charge. The horde closes up behind them. They stop before Lincoln.
‘What are they doing, Jackson?’ Amy asks apprehensively.
‘I don’t know.’
My eyes are glued to the binoculars. I don’t dare pull away. I don’t want to miss a second of this.
The woman places a hand on Lincoln’s shoulder, like a captain acknowledging one of the troops. The hand lays there for a moment.
‘I think she is saying something to him.’
The child strolls over to Koda, a slight limp evidence of her infectious disease. She begins stroking his fur. It’s frightening to think he is okay with this. Only a year ago, that animal was terrified of everything. A lot has changed.
Moments later, Lincoln steps aside and the woman moves to the Leader. The Leader seems uncomfortable, but doesn’t move or show any signs of fighting. The woman peers up into the Leader’s stony face. Her back is turned, so I can’t tell if she is speaking, but he seems to be listening.
Lincoln is like a statue. I beg him to walk over and snap her neck, but he doesn’t. And when she is finished, the Leader lowers his head slightly and gives her a curt bow. An understanding has been made.
A moment later, the amassed Infected do the same: all heads bowing to the woman. I have to do everything in my power not to do the same. I will not submit to her.
‘We’re in trouble,’ I say, and lower the binoculars. ‘It’s like one big army again, just like at the Block.’
Amy looks like she is about to break, and my words give her no comfort.
‘She has control of them all, Lincoln included,’ I add stupidly. I know the truth hurts her, but better to get it out so she can deal with it.
Amy turns back to the horde, brushing off my blunt comments. I should have chosen my words more wisely – been a little more gentle. I need her support if we are to find Victoria.
I could never understand the attraction between Amy and Lincoln, or how they had managed to hide a romantic relationship from everyone while the end of the world was occurring. Victoria told me they hooked up within the first couple of nights of our escape. I’ve always wondered why Lincoln never trusted me enough to spill the beans.
When I found out, Lincoln had already been taken down by an Infected, bitten during our failed attempt to escape through a tunnel under the house. He went first and paid the price for his bravery. I wish it was me.
‘Sorry,’ I say, sheepishly, trying to break the silence.
I hand Amy the binoculars. She accepts them willingly and holds them up to her eyes. It’s obvious she is paying attention only to Lincoln.
‘It’s okay,’ she says. ‘You’re only telling the truth.’
I peer down at the horde. None of the Infected seem to be moving and I wonder what they are waiting for.
Is she planning another attack?
The assembled ranks brings me back to the Block: the way they wait silently, immobile. I remember peering out over our protective wall to see Tyler standing next to her, the horde behind emotionless and unresponsive. He must have known it was all over and accepted his death long before we arrived. Perhaps he thought his sacrifice would satisfy them. Or maybe it was a play for time and we would all run and escape. I will never know.
Gunfire echoes up from the highway: short, heavy blasts, possibly a shotgun. Amy swivels away from Lincoln and scans the piled-up vehicles.
‘Who was that?’ I ask, searching for any signs of movement. But the sun is reflecting off chrome and windshields; it’s like looking at a solar flare.
‘Can’t see anything. Could have come from anywhere.’
Amy continues to scan up and down for a few more moments before giving up and turning her attention back to Lincoln. The horde has begun to break up. A few dozen are heading north to the lines of vehicles. Others are breaking off and heading in different directions. Lincoln and the woman haven’t yet moved, and the girl is still crouched by Koda, stroking his fur. The Leader is nowhere to be seen.
I hear a snarl and spin to see a couple of Infected clawing at the Range. I tap Amy on the arm to gain her attention. She looks at me oddly and I place a finger over my lips and point to the pair of Infected. They haven’t yet noticed us. Amy nods in acknowledgement and I remove my hunting knife, miming that I would take the taller one. She withdraws her knife and follows.
The pair don’t notice us until our knives are penetrating the side of their heads. The taller one collapses, taking my blade with him. I kick him aside and withdraw my knife slowly, inspecting the blood as it seeps out. It looks darker than usual.
‘Good catch.’ Amy says, wiping her knife on the jacket of the shorter man.
‘Yeah.’ I’m still looking at the blood.
Has it changed?
Amy thumps me on the arm. ‘You alright?’
I rub my shoulder. She’s got a big hit. ‘You alright there, Xena?’
‘Isabelle is crying, Dad.’
Screams are coming from inside the Range. I glance at the blood again and scratch my head.
‘I better comfort her before hell breaks loose.’
I remove Isabelle from the seat and hold her close, bobbing up and down to calm her. She settles a few minutes later, and goes to sleep in my arms. ‘Let’s see how the horde is going.’
We head back towards the cliff and I’m surprised to see half the horde has disappeared, hundreds now moving in all directions. Lincoln, the woman and the child, are still amongst the moving mass, waiting.
‘Seems strange,’ Amy says quietly.
‘What does?’ I ask, turning to her.
‘All of this. The horde, that woman. Why is s
he here?’ Amy looks at me strangely. ‘Do you know something you’re not telling me, Jackson?’
I feel my cheeks burn with guilt, knowing there is no turning away from this question.
‘What are you saying?’
‘Lincoln told me how you attacked that woman,’ she responds bluntly. ‘He told me how she came for you, and only you, when you were running for your lives. He told me everything, Jackson, right up to when he …’ She pauses for a moment and swallows. ‘And then I heard about Tyler, how this same woman’s daughter, that little child, killed him in cold blood.’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ I snap. ‘She is hunting us, Amy. Don’t you—’
‘You’re the reason she is hunting us!’ Tears begin to well in her eyes again. ‘You’re the fucking reason, and you’re hiding something from me.’ She stomps closer. ‘Tell … me … the … fricken … truth!’
Isabelle begins to scream. I glare at Amy then look down at Isabelle’s scrunched up face.
‘Dammit, Amy.’
I begin jiggling Isabelle the best I can, but her screams are getting louder. I have an urge to smother her face, to shut her up, but I don’t. I’m no psychopath and will not do that to my child. But right now, I feel so angry towards Amy, and Isabelle’s crying is not helping my temper.
I’m ready to bite Amy’s head off, to rip into her with more lies, to try and defend the indefensible, lies upon lies feeding my ever-growing nose. But Amy is looking at the horde again. Something is up.
‘Amy?’ I don’t dare to look down. ‘Amy. What is it?’
She turns to me, fear in her eyes like she has seen the devil himself.
‘They’ve spotted us. They’re coming.’
Chapter 51
The Woman
The woman looks up, catching a murmur in the air and turns seeing the figures outlined at the top of the cliff. She hears the screams of a child and her mouth begins to salivate. She sniffs the air, wanting to know more, and catches the scent of something familiar blowing in the wind. Her lip twitches. The smell has triggered neurons, sending messages throughout the fog of her infected brain, retrieving memories from its hidden depths.
She sniffs again, catching the scent of something sour. It’s stronger this time. She closes her eyes and an image of a man appears. Her eyes open again and narrow at the memory.
The woman’s child comes to her side and tugs on her clothes. The woman looks down and grunts. The child peers up, her face expressionless, and nods in understanding.
The woman looks back at the clifftop and raises her undamaged arm. She draws in a deep breath, opens her mouth and screeches for all to hear.
The message is clear – kill!
Chapter 52
Through the pack
‘They’re all coming!’ Amy screams.
I watch as hundreds of Infected charge towards us and start clambering up the steep slope, without a care if they live or die. They stumble and fall, sliding back and taking out the ones behind. But it doesn’t take long for them to regain their footing and start climbing again.
I have lost the woman and the small girl in the masses, but I know they are there; Lincoln and Koda are too. They are coming for us, coming for me.
I grab Amy’s arm and squeeze. ‘We need to leave.’
Isabelle is still screaming. I pull Amy away from the edge.
‘Now!’
Amy reluctantly peels herself away and follows me to the Range Rover. I know what she is thinking, but we have no time to save him. How can we? He is lost to the infection and coming for us.
I place Isabelle into her seat and tighten the buckles. Damn things are like an enigma to work and it takes me a few goes to latch her in tightly. I dive into the front seat and start the car.
In the mirror, I spot the first few Infected clambering over the edge of the cliff. We have stupidly lost time watching them approach when we should have been long gone. Who knows how many are waiting for us further down the road.
I slam my foot on the accelerator and skid back onto the road. Runners are already following us, their limbs whipping, drunk with rage. It is an apocalyptic German cheese run, and we are the cheese.
We follow the edge of the mountain but come to a skidding halt round the bend. Infected are flooding onto the road up ahead – a herd of angry cattle. They spot us in seconds and begin walking relentlessly towards us.
Amy spins in her seat and peers through the back window.
‘What now?’
I look in the mirror and see the runners are about thirty metres away. Too many to fight off, and their agility and speed make them a lot trickier to evade than the slow and dumb up ahead.
‘We go through the pack.’ I grip the wheel and accelerate.
My heart is hammering as I aim for the edge of the group. If we can just get through, we may be okay.
At the last minute, I close my eyes.
‘Hold on!’
After the initial bumps and jolts I open them again. The windshield is covered in layers of blood and gore. I put the wipers on full and continue to power through. I regretfully turn the wheel towards the smallest of the group, a pack of kids towards the back. There are half a dozen of them, no taller than my hip. They see my blazing headlights and show no fear, moving towards me as if bound by heavy chains. The sturdy car makes light work of them and we are through, leaving behind a carnage of red and black.
Amy has her gun on her lap. She is loosely clutching the handle.
I give her a wink. ‘Be careful with that.’
She glares at me, clearly not amused. Perhaps she is thinking about Lincoln. More likely our discussion. I look away in shame.
How can I tell anyone my secret?
Chapter 53
The desperate search
‘Eden? Eden?’ William hisses quietly, tapping the boot of an abandoned car. ‘Eden?’
There is no response. He runs to the next vehicle, desperately searching for something familiar. He taps again with the same result. His brain is spinning. The heat unbearable and clouding his thoughts. If he could just remember where he had left her?
William wipes the sweat from his face. He is tired, hungry and in dire need of water. It’s been hours since he drank, more since he ate. His stomach is growling in protest, but he ignores the pain. Eden needs him.
Nothing on the road looks at all familiar. Vehicles have been shoved aside by the horde as it swept through, some flipped on their backs by the hulk. William hopes Eden is not in one of those cars, or worse, eaten.
He runs to the next vehicle and taps the boot.
‘Eden, are you in here?’
Silence all around. Nothing but sizzling heat.
A bird squawks loudly overhead, startling him. William knows the Infected are not far away; he can smell them on the breeze. That damn stench is everywhere. He continues running through the sea of battered vehicles, stopping at a Mercedes.
‘Hang on …’
He inspects the car closely, noticing handprints on the glass. His eyes light up.
‘I remember you.’
He looks around. Nearby is a battered a car with the passenger side crushed in. It hadn’t looked like that when he had left Eden in the boot. William runs over, wondering if she could have survived. The bags inside the car are now piled onto the driver’s side, thrown across the seats from the impact of the hulk’s crushing blow. The back of the rear seat is locked in place. Eden must still be trapped!
William moves to the boot and taps his knuckles on the burning metal.
‘Eden?’
For a moment he hears nothing.
‘Will?’
Her voice is weak, little more than a soft whimper.
‘Eden!’
William tries to unlatch the boot and open it.
‘It’s stuck.’
He goes to the rear door and tries to pull it open, but it’s too badly damaged and won’t budge. He runs to the other doors but finds them all just as impossible to open.
‘The doors are jammed. Can’t get them open.’
The windows on the passenger side are broken, the shattered glass littering the road and the interior of the car. William climbs through and pulls at the hatch to the boot. But the whole car has been warped and the catch won’t move. Eden’s only chance now is if he can get the boot open.
‘I need to break the lock,’ William says urgently.
‘Hurry, it’s so hot in here. I can’t breathe.’
Eden’s voice is faint. He hasn’t got much time. She is only minutes from slipping away forever. He remembers hearing stories about kids trapped in cars and how they get cooked alive, unable to be heard as they scream for help. Eden is no different. If she dies, this is on him.
William punches the latch with his fists, desperate for it to open. Within seconds his hands are red-raw. But the lock hasn’t budged, and he knows he is running out of time.
‘How are you doing in there?’
Eden doesn’t respond. William is starting to panic. The metal is burning hot: like a frying pan on maximum heat. He hates to think what it’s like inside. At that moment he remembers the handgun Eden found.
He taps on the boot. ‘Eden, have you got the gun?’
Eden doesn’t respond. Her silence is a dead give away to her state. He only has seconds – if she’s alive at all.
Inside the car is Eden’s bag. He can’t be sure if she took the gun out before climbing into the boot, but it’s worth a shot. He just hopes it’s not still in the back of her pants.
William climbs into the car again and removes Eden’s bag. He begins tossing things onto the ground – clothes and food, but no gun. His hand searches around the base of the bag and touches something hard. It’s the gun. He rips out the gun and runs to the boot. He points it at the lock then pauses.
What if I hit her?
He had seen this done plenty of times in films, but this is real life.