by Brown, TW
It looked like all of Leeds was on fire behind them.
***
Shadiyah woke and rolled over on the sofa to look out the window. It was still raining, but that had not seemed to be enough to stop the nearby fires that continued to rage. It looked as if everything towards Wortley was ablaze, add this development to the several small fires that looked to be catching all around, and she began to see the possibility that leaving Leeds was for the best.
After getting dressed and packing a duffel full of supplies, Shadiyah had a small breakfast and then headed for the door. She stopped for just a moment and gave the flat one final look. It had never been much, but this little place had been home. She had shared good times and bad with her father, mother, and sister.
Stepping out into the hall, she refused to glance down at the bodies of her late parents. She was already feeling melancholy; she did not need to see their corpses to send her into a deeper sadness. She would check on Mr. Ivanoff one final time. She knew that warning him about the growing risk of fire would fall on deaf ears, but she would at least clear her conscience by making the effort.
She knocked and waited a few moments before letting herself in. The old man looked to be dozing in his chair; most likely he had fallen asleep staring out the window at the swirling clouds of smoke and flame.
She had only taken two steps closer when she knew that the man was not sleeping. For one, Mr. Ivanoff’s snoring was somewhat famous amongst the residents on the floor. There was no sound in this tiny flat.
Stepping around to see the man’s face, she could see his dull, lifeless eyes staring out at nothing. The man was dead, but he had died with just the slightest smile on his face. Shadiyah leaned down and closed his eyes and exited the flat.
She was well down the emergency stairwell when a thought hit her and she turned around. Several minutes later, she was inside the Wood family flat. The place was mostly as tidy as she recalled, but she did notice a few things. For one, it looked as if there had been a bit of a scuffle in the living room. Also, there were dark stains on the carpet that she knew were most likely blood.
Then…there was the smell.
That stench of the undead actually seemed to permeate practically everything now, but there were places where the smell was stronger. This flat was one of those spots.
Moving down the hall, Shadiyah stopped at the closed door to Miranda Wood’s bedroom. She put her ear to it and heard nothing, yet, the thickness of the undead stink was here at its worst, and she knew what had to be on the other side of the door.
“I did not think you a coward, Simon Wood,” Shadiyah whispered.
That small noise seemed to be enough to cause whatever was on the other side of the door to Miranda’s room to stir. A low moan came with the sounds of a hand slapping the flat surface followed by something scratching on the cheap wood.
Shadiyah had never cared much for Miranda. Truth be told, she could not stand the stupid girl. Yet, she felt she needed to do this. If nothing else, it would clear the slate between her and Simon. He had shown her a kindness in leaving that note. She also felt confident that it was likely his doing that she still had her father’s scimitar. Doing this one thing would put them even.
Drawing the blade at her hip, Shadiyah gripped the doorknob and turned. She took in a breath and then gave a hard shove, forcing the door open. Even the act of holding her breath did not entirely save her from the wall of acrid stink that rolled from the room in a wave that could almost be felt.
Backing up the hall, Shadiyah set herself in place and waited for Miranda to emerge from the room. It took long enough that she had almost given up the vigil to go see what was taking the girl so long.
When Miranda stepped from the room, she was still engulfed in the blackness of the gloom that intensified the farther down the hall you went. So it was actually not until the scrawny figure stepped into the gray interior of the living room that Shadiyah got an actual look at the pathetic form that had once been Miranda Wood. What she saw made her gasp, and it had nothing to do with the fact that the girl was a zombie.
No, it was the dark stain around the zombie’s mouth.
Considering what she knew and could deduce from the situation, she reached a logical if not tragic conclusion: Simon had been bitten by his sister.
She glanced around to ensure that she had enough room for what needed to be done. Surprisingly, she took no happiness or joy in driving her blade into the face of Miranda. The body crumpled and was still. For reasons that she could not understand, Shadiyah cleaned her blade, put it away, and then returned the still corpse of Miranda Wood to her room where she placed her in bed and covered her with the slightly fouled sheet that was crumpled and in a pile at the foot of the bed.
She exited the flat, and this time was able to travel down the stairwell all the way to the ground floor. When she arrived, she remembered the tactic that Mrs. Raye had taken and placed her ear to the door first. When she heard nothing, she opened the door just enough to peek out into the corridor.
Empty.
Easing out, she was surprised that the smell of the undead was more potent than that of the fires burning everywhere. Still, she had to pull her scarf up over her mouth and nose to help filter out at least some of the smoke. Having gotten a pretty good look at the surrounding area before leaving, as well as recalling with fair accuracy where the density of the fires was the worst, Shadiyah made for Wellington Road towards the big roundabout.
She made it a point to avoid the undead any chance she got and was surprised at how easy they were to get around without them taking notice. Before long, she was moving along the A58. When she passed the Leeds Harley Davidson shop, she regretted not knowing how to operate a motorcycle. While she doubted they were that complicated, she was smart enough to know that the combination of her lack of skill mixed with the amazing racket would be a recipe for her death. Still, she did think that the shop had something worth checking out.
She hopped over the barrier and crossed the empty lot to the large windows that fronted the building. She was not surprised to see most of the glass missing and a good many bikes already gone. She even began to doubt that she would find what she was looking for here, but decided to venture forth regardless.
She stepped through a busted window, the crunch of glass under her feet seeming even louder than normal. She tried to step around the worst of the piles of shattered safety glass, but it was impossible to avoid it all. At last, she was far enough inside that it stopped being a problem.
She wove through the store making a point of being careful and alert. She had to stop after every few steps because she was certain that she kept hearing something moving about in the building with her. Every shadow had the possibility of being one of the walking dead, but eventually she noticed a distinct lack of the smell that gave away the undead and so she relaxed, if just slightly.
At last, she happened upon what she was searching for and could not hide her smile. For one of the few times in her life, she was thankful to be so diminutive. The assorted displays of leathers and jackets had been tossed, of that there was no doubt. However, she had no trouble finding something small enough to fit her perfectly.
Not long after she had come across her little cache of protective clothing, she was back out on the A58 headed east. She was still warring with the choice she had made after dealing with Miranda, but for now, she would at least head in the direction of Micklefield.
She had reached the River Aire and was debating the best way to continue with the terrible snarl of abandoned cars and what looked like a few hundred of the undead weaving in and out in their midst when she heard something down by the water that had her rush to the rail.
Looking down into the dark waters below, Shadiyah’s eyes tracked the banks in the direction of the sound. Two men were paddling a canoe and heading her direction!
She considered her possibilities and enjoyed the fact that they did not seem to be aware of her as of yet. That a
llowed her to really assess them and decide on her options. The closer they got, the more that she began to suspect that these men might not necessarily be the cream of society. She could recognize the dark brown pullovers that she knew to be common attire for residents of Armley, the prison in Leeds.
The closer they got, the more she was able to feel comfortable with her assessment. One of them had dark blotches on his arms that would likely morph into tattoos once he drew nearer. Both men had shaved heads and poorly trimmed facial hair and were apparently interested in looking behind them more than in front.
Shadiyah climbed up on the rail and swung her legs over so that she was perched on it as they continued to draw closer. She could see a few items tossed carelessly in the bottom of the canoe, but they seemed to be very poorly supplied. The most important thing that she managed to glean from her observations was the fact that they had no real weapons other than perhaps their paddles.
“Oi! Lads!” she called down when they were almost directly beneath her, still comically ignorant of her presence.
The men both looked up at the same time and one of them craned so fast that the canoe rocked violently. This caused them to both overreact to try and steady the small craft. A second later, the canoe capsized, spilling both men into the water with an expletive-laden shout and tremendous splash.
She actually had to cover her mouth to stifle the laughter as she watched them both begin to splash around the canoe, but what happened next caught her so off guard that she was now the one staring open-mouthed.
“Help!” one of them called; Shadiyah could not tell which one.
At first, she was struck by the terrible thought that the zombies were in the water as well. But the man continued to thrash about and it became obvious that he was simply trying to keep his head above the surface of the water.
“I can’t swim!” he managed around a mouthful of water, confirming the conclusion she had drawn just a second before.
She watched and was more than a little surprised when the second man turned around and began to paddle towards his companion. From her vantage point, she could see the whole scene clearly. The canoe was upside-down and slowly drifting away from the pair of men. Both paddles were also floating, one of them vanishing under the bridge.
The man thrashing about was starting to sound frantic just as the other man reached him. He did what most drowning individuals do; he lunged for his rescuer and pulled the man down with him. A few seconds later, they erupted from the water again, the thrashing becoming even more intense as now both men were in a fight for their life.
They went under again but the water continued to churn and froth. Of course, all of this racket was now drawing the attention of more than a few undead. Zombies were moving towards the shore on both sides, but the growth was thick enough that they were having a slow go of it.
At last, one of the men surfaced. He was looking around now, trying to locate the original source of their distraction. Shadiyah had already moved away and was hurrying to the other side of the bridge as the canoe emerged. She had to fight her way down to the water, but she was able to grab one of the oars first and then pull the canoe to her.
She could hear the shouts and sputters of the apparent sole survivor of the pair, but she paid it no heed. Turning the canoe over proved to be more difficult than she had thought would be the case. At last she had managed it, her eyes glancing back up the river towards the man who was now obviously swimming her direction.
She unshouldered her pack and hopped into the canoe, giving a little wave goodbye as she did. Pushing away from the shore, she saw a few zombies starting to gather up on the bridge as well as those coming down to the river’s banks. A few were just now starting down by her location as she began to paddle away. The curses began to fade as she found her rhythm.
***
“Looks like we got out of there just in time,” Cedric said with a sigh.
Simon was relieved, but a much bigger part of him was fighting with a sense of guilt that was taking deep root—its icy tendrils threatening to destroy his already nagging conscience. He knew that it was impossible, but a part of him still wanted to return for Shadiyah and make her join them.
“Yes,” Mrs. Raye finally spoke, “but we still have a great deal of nastiness to work our way through before we reach Mickelfield.”
As if to emphasize that point, a distant explosion to their east sounded. They turned to see a small cloud of black smoke rising from the row of residences that lined the far end of the footie pitch that sprawled alongside the motorway.
The group began their trek east, following the A64 for as long as they could until it became obvious that they needed to get clear of being in the open. Somehow, it seemed as if the undead were managing to spot them as they passed through what had once been a densely populated area.
At last, as they reached the Selby Road roundabout, they moved over to the train tracks. While they would still be passing through relatively the same general area, since the tracks ran almost parallel to the motorway, they had the advantage of being walled in by dense trees and foliage. It wasn’t quite like being in a tunnel, but it was as close as possible without the utter blackness.
All of them began to relax after a while. Annie moved away just enough from Mrs. Raye to the point where they were no longer holding hands, but Simon noticed that she was not so far apart that such things couldn’t change in a heartbeat.
They did not see another zombie for over an hour. It had reached the point where Simon had allowed his gaze to drift down so that he watched his feet more than anything else. There was still enough apprehension so that nobody really seemed much up to talking.
That allowed Simon to seep further into his guilt over having left Shadiyah. Every so often, his gaze would drift over to Cedric who seemed to have practically no cares in the world as he trudged along with his new companions. Once in a while, the two men made eye contact and it was always Cedric who broke off; usually pretending that he spied something interesting up ahead or some such nonsense.
Simon had no idea how much longer they walked when Mrs. Raye gave him a tug on the sleeve. He stopped and looked around. At some point, they had entered the lush, green, English countryside. Rolling hills rose like waves on both sides of where they were walking.
“I think that is the M1,” Mrs. Raye said, pointing off to their right. Simon glanced over, shaking his mind clear of the daydreams that had been flitting in and out—mostly regarding Shadiyah.
Annie had actually strayed far enough away that she was walking in the grass that grew alongside the tracks. She moved in and out of the shadows cast by the trees and almost seemed like a ghost the way she would drift between the sun and darkness.
Simon called for everybody to stop and then took a seat on a fallen log that sat in the shade. Everybody gathered around, each giving him expectant looks as he sought to sift through his best recollections on their location. He had certainly made this journey enough times over the years. Of course those trips had been by car, certainly not on foot. At last, he believed that he had a good idea of where they were and which direction they might be able to go to reach their ultimate destination.
“If memory serves, Garforth is just south beyond the M1. If we stayed on the train tracks, we would end up passing right through the heart of town. That would not be my choice. We could follow the M1 until it hits the Great North Road and follow it straight in, or we could cut south once we pass Garforth. There is a country road that brings us in from the east using Church Lane.” Simon looked from one face to the other.
What he saw made him almost smack his forehead in realization. These people were all exhausted. Even Mrs. Raye looked on the verge of collapse. Shooting a glance at the sky, he wished he could actually see the sun, but the clouds were being tenacious in their desire to keep the world shrouded in a gray blanket. Still, it was obvious that it was growing late. Even if they pressed on, they might not make it to Micklefield until well after
dark.
“I miss cars,” he mumbled and then clapped his hands to get everybody’s attention. “So, I propose we pop over and see if we might be able to spend the night someplace close. I seem to recall there being a football club nearby. Might even find a few things worth taking along since I doubt many have come this way to loot and pillage.”
Simon pulled out one of his last bottles of water and took a long drink He felt they had at least a fair chance of finding something to drink in a place like that. If nothing else, athletes did like having a plentiful supply of beverages.
There did not seem to be any voice to the contrary and so the small group cut through the trees on the north side of the train tracks and began making their way across a large, grassy field. The herd of sheep grazing in the pasture paid them almost no mind as they continued nibbling.
“How about some roast mutton for dinner?” Cedric whispered as they made their way to a small collection of buildings.
Simon nodded his agreement. “If we can find a spot to hold up for the night and can build a suitable fire, I think you may be on to something.”
As they got closer and closer to the small cluster of buildings, it was clear that something was a bit off. A feeling began to nag at the back of Simon’s mind, and he finally came to a stop, everybody doing likewise and turning to him with obvious questions etched on their faces.
“What’s the rub?” Cedric asked. He shot a look back to the buildings, but his eyes kept drifting to the sheep that were grazing nearby. As if to emphasize his own thoughts and priorities, his stomach growled loudly.
“Something seems peculiar,” Simon said, his voice dropping almost to a whisper as if he might be worried that somebody or something might hear. He squinted as if that might help him be able to see clearer. There was definitely something out of place, but that was when he realized just how tired he was as well. He simply could not see it; at least not clearly.
