The Survival Games (Book 2): Hide & Seek

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The Survival Games (Book 2): Hide & Seek Page 7

by Everheart, AJ


  Deeming it safe, Galen lights a few candles and pulls out a small burner stove.

  “What’s for dinner?” Luke asks, eyes lighting up.

  “Sonia found tins of soup out in the kitchen, so I thought we’d enjoy some non-watered-down soup.” He laughs, but watery soup is what we seemed to survive on most days.

  The smell of warm food soon fills the large living room we’ve all decided to stay in. Luke watches Galen heat the food up and pour it into a mug with greedy eyes from his spot on the sofa. Fischer laughs as he practically trips over his own feet to take the steaming cup from Galen’s hands.

  “Donovan, there’s something weird in my soup,” he whispers as he takes a seat next to me on the floor while I check over my weapons. I’d brought a bow, a gun, and a knife, and yet I still didn’t think it was enough.

  I peer over and chuckle. “That's minestrone, those little white stringy things are pasta.”

  “Never had minestrone before, kid?” Galen asks with a grin.

  Luke shakes his head before taking a large gulp and smiling. I’m handed a tomato soup, and while it’s not something I’d choose, it’s warm and filling, which is all that matters. The temperature has dropped recently, winter is coming, and I don’t know if we’re ready for it.

  “So, what were you doing the day of the outbreak?” Sonia asks, filling the silence.

  “Fuck’s sake, Sonia.” Fischer glares at the other soldier.

  “What?”

  She takes her helmet off and unties her dark hair before running a hand through it. With a sigh, she leans back against the wooden frame that surrounds the fireplace. “You can’t just ask shit like that. That day...that day was a shitshow.”

  Sonia follows suit in trying to get comfortable, shrugging off her jacket and kicking off her shoes. “I’m just trying to get to know everyone…”

  “It’s okay,” Luke says as he finishes up his food. “I was off school with a tummy bug. I was sick. I’m glad I didn’t have to go in now, I don’t think I would have found a way back to my mum otherwise.”

  “Very true,” Fischer agrees as she tucks into her soup, it looks like potato and leek.

  I can feel Luke’s eyes on me, he wants to know where I was and what I was doing, but how do I explain that I lost everything that day?

  “I was supposed to be in school,” I say quietly. “We had an inset day, but I wasn’t needed for training until the afternoon. I was going to go in early. Get a head start on some marking.”

  “Did the outbreak stop you?” Sonia asks, watching me carefully.

  “No, my daughter did. She asked me to stay home and make her pancakes.” I can’t stop the tremble in my voice when I say the word daughter any more than I can stop the look of pity Galen gives me.

  “You have a daughter? Where is she?” Luke moves in closer to my side, and while I should feel suffocated, it’s oddly comforting.

  “I had a daughter. She’s...gone now.” I don’t want to explain any further than that, and I don’t have to as Galen starts offering out some chocolate he managed to pick up from the off-licence. It’s a great distraction technique, especially since chocolate is a luxury these days.

  “I never used to like Toffee Crisp,” Luke says as he munches away, exaggerating his chewing, pretending that the caramel was like glue. We all laugh at him, the sombre atmosphere broken as the little boy clowns around.

  Eventually, we all start winding down. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, it’s still a way to go until we reach Hattonfield, and we have no idea what’s waiting for us when we get there. Luke curls up on the sofa with a blanket. Sonia has claimed an armchair, and Fischer and I lay shoulder to shoulder on the floor with some musty cushions while Galen keeps first watch upstairs.

  “It’s not your fault, you know, that Layla died,” Fischer whispers in the dark beside me. I knew it was coming, I could feel her gaze on me all evening.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say quietly as I watch Luke stir in the shadows of the dying candle light. I was supposed to protect them, but I only let them down.

  Fischer gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “It’s the government. They did this, Donovan. And we fucking helped them. But it wasn’t you.”

  I remember that morning like it was yesterday, it was the day I lost everything. I’d gotten up and dressed like usual. I packed my satchel ready for the teacher training day, and as I poured myself a cup of coffee, Layla had woken up and come downstairs. She’d begged me to make pancakes, and I never could say no to her. Elise had stayed in bed, enjoying a lay-in. She hadn’t been well since the night before, and a little extra sleep was always welcome when you were the parents of an energetic four-year-old.

  I’d turned the radio on, rolled up my sleeves, and made up the pancake mix as Layla watched cartoons in the front room. I could hear the news station talking about a virus—a severe flu outbreak, they’d called it—and I remember thinking, ‘I hope that’s not what Elise has,’ as I made up my batter. When I was heating up the frying pan is when the reports of cannibalism started filtering in. I thought it was a hoax. A sick joke. That’s when I heard Layla screaming from the front room, and I realised it wasn't a prank. Not even close.

  “I was the one who put a knife into her skull, Fischer, so don’t tell me I didn’t kill her.” I try to shut down my feelings, block out the memories of Elise crouched over our daughter, eyes milky, mouth stained with blood. I want to forget how I beat my wife to death with a frying pan. How I held Layla’s dead body, until she wasn’t dead anymore. Car alarms sounded in our street, screams the soundtrack to my day as I ran from my zombie four-year-old. I didn’t understand what had happened, but I knew that I had to stop her. I couldn’t let her hurt anyone else. I saw the knife block. What other choice did I have?

  “You didn’t kill her, you killed the virus that was using her body. Layla was already gone.” Fischer is trying to comfort me. I want it to work, for her words to make a difference, but they don’t. I’m still weighed down by the fact that I killed my wife and child. Nothing anyone says will change that day or my guilt. That’s why I won’t let anything happen to Luke, I’ll protect him until my last breath.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Anna

  Daylight creeps up on us as we try to put some distance between us and the damn coach. I can’t see whoever was spying on us, they’re long gone, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe. If anything, it means we need to disappear. No one survives out here on their own, and our little peeping Tom had likely gone to get his friends. With the circles graffitied everywhere, I wasn’t liking the odds of him being a gang scout or something.

  We stick on the road because it’s quicker, but it’s not enough as vibrations on the ground begin to travel up our bodies. Seconds later, we hear the roar of engines being revved from somewhere. It grows louder, almost deafening in this world where vehicles only mean trouble, but clearly the people approaching aren’t worried about the zombies they are attracting with all the noise. That fact scared me more.

  We both speed up, but we’re still injured, and if we don’t think fast, we’re going to be caught. The road ahead becomes congested again, with more vehicles blocking the way, and we’re too slow to just keep limping along, attempting a pathetic run.

  “I guess it’s going to be a game of Hide and Seek,” Lily laughs with this hysterical noise I haven’t heard before. I think she’s finally losing the plot as we start darting between cars.

  Shouts carry on the wind now, adding to the cacophony of noises that are threatening to overwhelm everything. I don’t want to be anyone’s prisoner again. I can’t breathe as I try to run, my broken ribs slowing me down as I clumsily move in and out of the cars, trying to avoid being seen.

  A bike comes up behind us before falling back again, and I don’t know why I look, but I do. On the horizon, I see three or four cars and three bikes heading towards us. There are people hanging out of windows and standing up through sunroofs, kniv
es glinting in the early morning light, and I think I even catch sight of chains. Christ, it only took two years for us to descend into some sort of Mad Max stereotype.

  My heart hammers in my chest as I can hear the shouts and cheers coming from behind me getting closer. A motorbike revs, moving closer again, and that’s when I know we’ve got to get off this damn road. If we stay here, even though it will take us to Luke and Donovan, it’ll also get us caught.

  I call over to Lily and point to the woods, zombies be damned. She looks frightened and freezes. Now is not the time for her to lose her marbles, she needs to hold it together for just a little while longer. Another rev behind us jolts her back into moving, and she follows behind me as we try to get to the trees so we can disappear into the shadows.

  As I scramble to the embankment and over the rail, my foot catches on something and I fall and roll down the slick grass. A tree strops me, and I want to cry as I slam into it, but at least I’m in the woodlands. It’s dark. It’s creepy. It’s probably full of zombies, but it makes it easier to hide from the people chasing me. I crawl deeper into the dark, but I can still hear voices carrying on the breeze through the trees. I need to move faster. I try to stand but a wave of nausea washes over me. My head feels wet as I gingerly touch the slick skin—I’m bleeding. I don’t know where Lily is. She was behind me a minute ago, but now, I can’t see her. I can’t think straight.

  “Lily,” I hiss. “Lily.”

  Nothing. My tongue feels heavy as I try to call out her name again, like there’s cotton wool in my mouth. The sound of engines draws near, and I can’t stop the panic that’s starting to grip me, locking me in place. Do I go back? I can’t. Do I leave her? Fuck, how can I even think that?

  “RUN!” her voice screams through the trees, and I don’t think. I just run. It’s like everything is in slow motion as I try to escape.

  As I move, I try to listen out for anything else, but all I hear is them. The snapping of branches and twigs as they follow my path makes me want to cry, but I keep going. My vision blurs before refocusing.

  “Over here!” a male voice hoots somewhere to my left, and I grit my teeth.

  I hesitate. What if they have Lily? What if they already found her? I can’t stand around worrying, I’m no use to either of us if I get caught too. But I’m too disoriented to run, I can barely keep my eyes open. If I can’t run, then I need to hide. I sink back down onto my knees, trying not to throw up or make too much noise. I crawl as carefully as I can further away from the motorway. I fight back the sting of tears, everything hurts too much, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out. I’m so fucking tired. I can’t believe I’ve lost Lily. The floor beneath my hands and knees begins to follow a steep downward slope, and with a grimace, I half-slide, half-crawl down it. Once the ground begins to even out a bit, I notice an overgrown area with thick tree roots creating the perfect space to squeeze myself into. Noises come closer, taunting me as my heart threatens to beat loudly enough to give away my location.

  Exhaling sharply as I try to wedge myself between the tree roots, I wish I was smaller. I wish with everything that I have that I could shrink at will, like some sort of fairy. Grabbing fistfuls of leaves and foliage, I try to cover myself. If I’m lucky, they’ll just walk past, imagining that I’m some weird rock jutting out from the base of some tree roots. If I’m not, well, then I’ll be dead.

  The voices are so close now, I can hear every word as a group discusses what to do with me when they find me. Humans are vile. How can we hurt each other the way we do?

  “It was definitely a woman. We need more women,” a crude voice booms with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, because none of the others will go near you anymore, Greg,” someone retorts, which makes others laugh.

  Another voice chimes in, “Struggling to get laid, even in the zombie apocalypse. Fuck, Greg, you are a sad sack of shit.”

  “Watch your mouth, Tim. I don’t need to put up with your shit.”

  “Who has the gun, Greg?” he teases. “Oh yeah...that’s right. Me.”

  “We both know that if you weren’t hiding behind that bastard gun, I’d have you. You’d be dead.” Greg’s voice is intimidating, and he reminds me of Leo. It isn’t an empty threat, he’s making promises he’ll gladly cash in on.

  There’s some sort of scuffle before others intervene. My vision swims as I try to stay alert, but the pain is beginning to engulf me. If they don’t move on soon, I’ll pass out and probably end up revealing my location. “Get a grip,” I tell myself sternly, this is the most important game of Hide and Seek you’ve ever played in your life, and you’re wimping out. I need to stay awake. I need to stay alive. For Luke.

  I remember when he was a baby, Hide and Seek used to be his favourite game as I’d place a muslin gently over his head, and his chubby little hands would tear it off almost instantly. The room would be filled with the addictive noise of his laughter, and I’d grin back at his toothy smiles. I was happy back then, and now, I can barely remember what happiness feels like. My head swims with the memories, but it could also be from where I hit it on the tree as my eyelids start to flutter shut.

  Just before darkness engulfs me, a gunshot rings out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Donovan

  We follow Galen’s ratty-looking map and the sporadic road signs as we head for Hattonfield. I’d finally gotten some sleep last night, but I woke feeling worse because I dreamed of them. All that talking dredged up memories I wasn’t ready to face. Luke stays close to my side today, and I don’t know why but I find it mildly comforting. He tells me about his mother as we walk, about how she loves jam sandwiches and dancing in her pyjamas around their kitchen on a Sunday morning. The love they have is what’s keeping this poor kid going, and in turn, keeping me going too. I want to reunite them. I owe Anna that much. I wish I’d had a chance to get to know her a little better back at the camp, but then everything had happened so fast. We were captured, and then in the blink of an eye, we were all running for our lives again, and there was just no time to make friends.

  I can barely remember her face, I just recall thinking that she had this haunted beauty about her when she appeared with dirty blonde hair and big green eyes. Her skin was pale, with faded scars and fresh bruises peppered over her arms, neck, and face. She looked fragile, but the way she snuck in and planned our escape proves that she is anything but delicate. And the way Luke describes her love of ‘old films,’ as he calls the ’80s classics, and her taste in rock music makes me think that in another time, we’d get on.

  Fischer stops when we reach a roundabout. “Galen, this road heads towards the motorway. I think we should check it out.”

  “We’re supposed to be heading in the other direction.” His voice is firm. Galen doesn’t like going off plan, it unsettles him, which makes him nervous and twitchy.

  She pulls a list out of her Bergen rucksack. “One of the engineers back at the army base asked me to keep an eye out for some parts. I had a look back in Marwton, but I couldn't find anything.”

  Galen looks conflicted for a moment; we couldn’t just order our engine parts online or at a garage anymore, and it was always safer to get what we could, when we could. After a moment or two, he finally nods.

  “Okay, but as soon as we get what we need, we get back on route.”

  “What exactly are we looking for?” Sonia asks, and as they begin to talk engines, batteries, wire, and electrics, I tune out.

  “What’s happening?” Luke asks as we both watch Fischer explain how to find what she needs to Sonia and Galen.

  “Detour. We’re going onto the motorway.” I point to where the road disappears around the bend. I wasn’t a fan of large roads, but they were easier to walk along if they were empty.

  “Does that mean we might see my mum? Mia said that’s the way she would travel.”

  There’s an excitement in his soft voice that gives me a horrible sense of foreboding. Happiness and excitement don’t b
elong here, on this scavenger hunt in a zombie filled, crumbling world.

  I run a hand through my hair. “It’s the most direct route, but it’s also very dangerous.”

  His hopeful face makes me feel like a real shithead when I say, “Listen mate, we need to be prepared for whatever we may find.”

  His smile slips, and he nods. Even at eight, he understands what I mean. How messed up is that?

  It doesn’t take us long to reach the motorway, and as we walk along, I barely notice the debris anymore. With Alex and with the army, these raids have numbed me a little to the horror. I’m used to seeing the abandoned cars, the bloody handprints, a lone shoe, or a pair of glasses in the street. Even the occasional body part or bone doesn’t get to me the way it used to. This was our life now.

  As we move further along, with Fischer, Sonia, and Galen stripping our car parts as we go, I notice a crash up ahead.

  “Pileup,” I call over to Galen, who has his hands full of wires. He quickly tucks them into one of his many pockets and moves further ahead with Sonia, his gun drawn.

  He keeps his voice low and quiet as he creeps forward. “We’re going to check it out, you guys wait here.”

  A car pileup wasn’t unusual, but they were usually hiding nasty creatures, either dormant because of the lack of food or trapped by the accident when they turned. The carnage was never a pretty sight either, blood and rusty crumpled metal were never a good combination. It was worse if they were wedged in or stuck because when they saw you, they went crazy, and it was an all-consuming hunger like I’ve never seen before as they rip themselves in half to try and reach you, not unlike that guy back at the airport with Alex.

 

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