Among The Dead (Book 1): Shadow of Death

by Colley, Ryan

  “Six o’clock!” I heard James shout, panic in his voice. I spun around to see double the amount of the undead that had been there previously.

  “Screw this,” I protested when I saw the sheer number of undead running towards us. I ducked back into the Jeep, put the vehicle into reverse, and pushed my foot onto the pedal. I only slammed the door when we had begun speeding backwards. I heard James cry out in surprise, ducking back inside seconds later. He seemed to be breathing heavily from the sudden movement. I kept reversing until I was inches from the undead behind us, but far enough from the undead in front of us. I changed gear and hit my foot down on the pedal again. We sped forward, the Jeep picking up speed quickly.

  “Brace yourself!” I said to James, who was sliding around on the metal floor behind me. We were mere seconds from the undead in front. Suddenly, we were mere seconds in front of where the undead had been. All that remained of them was the disgusting paint job they had left over the front of the Jeep. There were bits of gristle and blood all over the windscreen. Without thinking, I turned on the wipers, which made the gory mess so much worse. I felt bile rise in my throat, made worse by the fact I had yet to eat. On the other hand, what was worse? The fact I was thinking about food at a time like that? Or that I was affected to such a small degree by what I had seen that I was more concerned about my appetite? I couldn’t help it. I was going down a slippery slope mentally. I gave the window a few squirts from the Jeep’s reserves of window wash and then turned on the wipers again. That made things a lot better as the majority of the gore was cleared. However, there was still a reddish tinge to the glass, as the destruction had left a bloody film over the surface. I pretended I didn’t see it and carried on driving.

  “How’re things back there?” I called to James over the roar of the engine.

  “Bit bruised but all good,” he replied cheerfully. He really was a happy-go-lucky guy. I, on the other hand, didn’t want to know how he was doing. I was asking how the situation was going.

  “The undead following?” I asked, rewording the question.

  “Of course,” he replied, looking out the back window. He added, “They’re never gonna catch up at this rate.”

  “Good,” I said matter-of-factly. Things had gone surprisingly well that time round. Before I knew it, I would be reunited with my Alice. That brought a smile to my face. Not much did anymore. I started thinking about her face, her lovely smile, and her golden hair which always smelled of coconut. I was slightly worried when my brain didn’t recall the image as immediately as I would have liked. It was as if she was fading from my memory, which was impossible. It was like trying to picture someone I hadn’t seen for years. I frowned. It had only been days since I had started out on my journey, but the toll it had taken on me was obviously a lot worse. The image of Alice came back to me eventually, and I kept focussing on it. Her little ears. Her brown eyes. No … Blue eyes? What the hell was wrong with me? I slammed my hands against the steering wheel and slapped myself a few times. I decided to think of a specific time. It was the first time I met her family. We travelled to Essex for her grandparent’s sixtieth anniversary. We were going for a really fancy meal and it would be the first time I wore a tie. Alice dressed up and looked gorgeous. Her dress was beautiful and she looked so good in it. I focussed on that image. That was an image I needed to remember. I kept thinking about it, reinforcing it in my mind. Eventually, all the images fell into place as clear as day. I smiled again, content for the moment. I looked in the mirror, past my bloodshot eyes, and at James. He had a thousand-yard stare on his face. Every few seconds, his head would drop slightly before he jolted up again, wide-eyed.

  “Hey bud,” I said gently. James looked at me but he didn’t speak. “Get some sleep, I’m good driving for now.”

  He nodded. He looked slightly confused but laid down on the cold metal of the Jeep and was asleep in seconds. He must have been exhausted. If his story held up then he hadn’t slept properly for months. Any sleep he got would have been glimpses here and there. How was he even still functioning?

  “How’re you even still functioning?” a voice within questioned myself, one I hadn’t heard from since it tried to convince me to kill my companion.

  “Just leave it,” I muttered aloud to myself. I thought I heard a snigger, then realised it was in my head also. I wasn’t holding up too well myself, and that was putting it lightly. A combination of mental scarring and exhaustion wasn’t going to end well for me or anyone around me. I couldn’t break yet though. I needed to hold out until I saw my Alice. Blonde hair, blue-eyed, tall Alice. Blonde hair. Blue-eyed. Tall. Alice. I repeated the details to myself a few more times. I smiled at myself in the mirror. A wild-eyed lunatic grinned back at me.

  I’m slipping.

  CHAPTER 22

  After sleeping solidly for three hours, James woke with a start. He scrambled for a weapon but didn’t find one. The fog of his dreams cleared and he realised where he was. He relaxed, ever so slightly. He sat in silence for a while before finally speaking.

  “Can I drive for a bit? Let you get some sleep,” he asked, as though he was doing me a favour. However, I suspected he wanted to more for himself than to help me. Whatever he had dreamt about, it had shaken him up.

  “Sure thing,” I said, faked a yawn and laughed. I began to slow. I could pull over nearly anywhere on the miles of open road in front of me. Zero undead. Almost zero cars. I probably didn’t even need to pull over, we could have just slowed in the middle of the road and climbed over each other. No one was around. I pulled over anyway. One does not simply forget the rules of the road. James and I both got out and stretched. I didn’t realise how cramped my muscles were until I needed to use them. If the situation had been dangerous, it could have been the end for us. We both stretched ourselves. James used stretches he had learned with the police. I, on the other hand, used basic stretches I had previously learned in school over ten years before. I could see James trying not to laugh as he watched from the periphery of his vision. His stretches got more and more elaborate.

  “Show off,” I muttered as I walked past him. I topped the engine off with one of the jerry cans on the back of the Jeep. I walked away and stood on the edge of the road, staring down the grassy embankment. I waited a few seconds before undoing my zip and began emptying my bladder.

  “Dirty git,” I heard James say. My bladder immediately seized up when I realised I was on show.

  “Aww,” James taunted, “a little toilet shy?”

  “Shut up,” I protested. “I thought I would have time to deal with bladder shyness before it became a problem.”

  “No time like the present,” James replied and strode up next to me, unzipped his jeans and let a torrent of urine flow onto the roadside.

  “Dammit,” I muttered before moving elsewhere to finish what I started.

  “Ahhh,” he called to me, emphasising that he was peeing freely. He laughed and called, “Nothing better than relieving yourself wherever you please! No matter who’s around!”

  I moved around to the other side of the Jeep to avoid James. I could still hear his chuckles. I unzipped myself again and urinated against the vehicle. I managed to finish without any bladder shyness. James waited for me to finish. I packed myself away, and that’s when I heard a low rumble. I looked above for a plane or helicopter. I thought that there could be more jets, but there was nothing. Maybe I imagined it?

  “You hear that?” James called to me. Nope, didn’t imagine it.

  “Yeah,” I replied. I didn’t have a good feeling about the sound. It was a different rumble to the jets we heard before. It sounded close, and got closer. I turned to look down the motorway from the way we had come. On the horizon were silhouetted figures. They moved down the motorway extremely fast. I grabbed the binoculars out of the Jeep and squinted through them. What I saw were motorbikes. A lot of them. A quick count was anywhere between fifteen and twenty riders.

  “What is it?” James asked as he wat
ched me stare intensely into the binoculars.

  “Bikers,” I responded simply.

  “Maybe they’re friendly?” James responded hopefully, but it sounded weak. I adjusted the focus of the binoculars and looked at the people on the motorbikes. I couldn’t make out much, but what I could see were guns. Each person had a gun either strapped to them, to their motorbike, or held up in the air like a victory stance.

  “We need to get going,” I commanded, walking back to the Jeep.

  James stayed where he was and repeated his question.

  “They’re not friendly,” I replied, tossing him the binoculars so he could look for himself. He did just that and then followed me. I was about to get into the driver’s side when James put his hand on my shoulder to stop me. I turned to argue that we didn’t have time to mess about but he interrupted me.

  “How much experience do you have at evasive driving, guy?” James said, reverting to his nickname for people. Was it a nerves thing?

  “None,” I replied quickly.

  “I do,” James said confidently. “You’re tired, I’m not. I have experience at this.”

  I nodded and climbed into the back. He got into the front and started driving.

  Initially, he started to build up speed. We had decided that if we could get away from them that would be best. However we soon realised that, no matter how fast our Jeep could go, it wasn’t fast enough to outrun motorbikes. We couldn’t keep the distance between us as the bikers crossed the gap in a short time. Before long, they crossed half the distance between us. Soon they would be on us. I had braced myself in the back, worried about being thrown about. I kept risking looks out of the back window to see how far away the bikers were, but every time I looked they were closer than the last time. I was scared to look again in case one of them had their nose pressed up against the glass. Suddenly, there was the loud crack of a gunshot. James swerved. There was then another shot, and then another. James swerved blindly. I risked another look out of the back window. Many of the bikers had their guns pointed into the air and fired shots. They weren’t even aiming at us. I watched as they fired a shot, James swerved, and a couple laughed at our panic.

  “James,” I shouted over the roar of the engine. He glanced over his shoulder to acknowledge he could hear me, “Stop swerving. They’re not shooting at us; they’re trying to intimidate us.”

  He stared into the mirror for a few moments, watching the shots being fired. He saw what I saw and a thin smile spread over his face. It made sense for the bikers to do that. For people who may not have ever killed, it would be the perfect way to get supplies. Bikers, in general, looked scary. The ones which followed us had bald heads, leather jackets, and large beards; I wouldn’t want to fight a single one of them. So, by adding guns into the mix, they were a menacing group. I hoped they weren’t killers and were solely relying on appearance to threaten us. Maybe they thought we had guns, food, or medical supplies. It didn’t matter whatever they thought we had, they wanted it anyway. They were going to take it, which I couldn’t allow. I had a plan. I undid the roof hatch in preparation.

  I shouted to James, “Keep us steady for a couple of minutes.”

  His eyes narrowed at me in the mirror, but I put my thumbs up, to which he did the same in confirmation. The Jeep suddenly steadied and sped along a straight path. I stood up with my top half out of the roof hatch. I stood there, the wind whipping around my face and bellowing my clothes. I couldn’t hear a thing. I stared down at the bikers from my heightened perspective. I had a feeling of superiority. The bikers stared at me. Most of them looked confused, unsure of what to do. Others looked bloodthirsty and riled up in the moment. The rest looked scared and not sure of what to do any more. I was about to give them something to be scared about. I lifted my hands for them all to see, like a preacher trying to silence his adoring congregation. They watched my hands raise, and then fall. My hands fell to the two handles on the mounted GPMG: the long, sleek, black metal barrel under my control. I looked at the crowd of bikers, pointed the heavy weapon of death at them, and smiled.

  CHAPTER 23

  It amazed me to see the same look of fear and panic spread over fifteen or more faces. It was like someone dropped a pebble in a pond and the ripples of fear spread. Some waivered and a few pulled away from the pack and dropped back. Most persisted and pushed forward. It was like a game of poker, each calling the other’s bluff; albeit a very deadly game. Each waited for the other to fire the first shot, but neither would give up in the meantime. I didn’t know how long I could draw the bluff out however, especially since I didn’t have any rounds for the gun. I aimed the heavy duty machine gun in front of the bikers and I made a show of the movement. A few more dropped back. Only five remained to pursue us. They didn’t know that I didn’t have any ammunition, and I didn’t want them to realise either. I looked at the bikers’ faces, surprised at how many were middle-aged or older. Humanising the enemy. Was it bad? I didn’t think so in the world which was quickly evolving. I sighed; I was running out of ways to scare them. I looked at the incoming threat of the bikers. I gave them a look as if to say, “last chance.” They persisted. I stared at the front runner I predicted to be the leader. He stared back. I could see the doubt spread across his face. He was losing confidence in his crusade. Then I did something that insured our survival. I winked at him. I don’t know where it came from, but slipping sanity seemed the likely cause. Nonetheless, I saw something click in the leader’s face and he began to drop back. The other four followed. I waved to them as we departed and they looked on.

  “What the hell did you do?!” James asked as he watched the bikers stop their chase.

  “My charming personality,” I replied simply. My mind raced. What would have happened if they didn’t drop back?

  “Did you … uh. Did you–” James started, unsure of how to proceed.

  “You would have heard it if I fired that thing,” I replied, running my hand through my hair. I didn’t want to discuss our close brush with death. He knew I wasn’t telling the full story, but he didn’t call me on it. I slumped to the floor in the back of the Jeep and stared out of the back window. I felt a million miles away …

  “What’s your funniest memory from school?” James asked out of the blue. I had been dozing in the twilight area between the sleeping and waking world.

  “What?” I said, disorientated and confused.

  “School. Funniest memory,” James repeated. He didn’t take his eyes off the road. I rubbed my eyes but grogginess lingered.

  “Umm,” I said thoughtfully, searching my memories for one which would particularly come to mind. There were so many, it was hard to choose. I suddenly remembered one and smiled. “In school, there was a guy who used to pick on everyone. During a sports lesson, I went back into the changing rooms to go to the toilet and saw his stuff just sitting there. I’ve never been confrontational; I like to mess with someone psychologically.”

  “Oh right,” James said and acknowledged me. I could hear by the way he spoke that he had a smile on his face.

  “So, I took just one of his socks and chucked it into the toilet. With that, I flushed it. It was brilliant to watch. The sock spun round and round before just disappearing. The water whipped it away, never to be seen again.” I laughed, mirth filling me from good memories.

  James chuckled, “That’s pretty funny.”

  “Oh, that isn’t even the best part,” I continued, leaning forward. I was fully awake at that point. It was amazing what good memories could do for you. “Wanna hear more?”

  “Of course,” James said, flashing me a smile in the mirror, “One way to pass the time.”

  I nodded, happy to have an audience. “So, he comes back into the changing room. He gets fully changed back into his normal clothes. Gets down to the last sock and I see him searching around for it. He checked his bag about ten times. Checked his friend’s stuff as well. Starts raging, but he let it go. Everyone misplaces stuff every now and again. S
o I gave it a couple of weeks and struck again.”

  “Go on,” James said. I could see a grin on his face and he wasn’t even facing me.

  “The next time I went to the toilet, I took his jumper and chucked it across the changing room. He eventually found it. He was angry again but got on with it,” I continued. “I was going to leave him alone at that point but, completely unprovoked, he started hitting another kid. I needed revenge for that kid. So I gave it a while, bided my time. Next would be the big one.”

  James swerved around an abandoned car. I gripped the side of the Jeep to brace myself.