The End of Everything | Book 8 | The End of Everything

by Artinian, Christopher

  There was a rattle of chains as everyone rushed towards the right of the vehicle, and immediately the tipping hazard was averted, for a moment anyway. More creatures began to batter and smash, but the engine roared, and it slowly started pulling away. There were bumps and bounces as the vehicle rolled over feet and fallen bodies, but inch by inch, they made their escape until the hammering against the bodywork ended and all that could be heard was the engine and the distant sound of thunder as the massive army of undead continued their chase.

  Everyone in the cargo compartment relaxed a little. The dim overhead light illuminated the relief on all their faces, and the chains jingled once more as they all spread out a little. It was very easy to get twisted and tangled, but all the zefs had either enough experience or enough common sense to make sure that did not happen.

  “That was a close thing,” Mila said.

  “You have a talent for understatement,” Rod replied. “If nothing else, it’s two more of those bastards down; although, unless I’m mistaken, we’re heading towards the city, which might not be the best plan.”

  Mila looked towards the cargo that had been hurriedly strapped into place at the front of the compartment. They were currently on a straight stretch of road, but each time they hit a pothole, the six-foot lengths of fencing that had been cut and stacked juddered wildly.

  “They’d better not take any sharp corners or we’re going to be in trouble.”

  “They didn’t get that much cut,” Rod replied, looking across to the single waist-high pile.

  “No, but look at those edges. Some of them are like razor blades; the last thing we want is those flying around in here.”

  “True enough, but let’s just celebrate the fact that we’ve had a bloody lucky escape for a minute before we start looking for the next disaster, shall we?” Rod said, smiling. “You’re not really a glass-half-full girl, are you?”

  “Ah yes, stupid me. The last few days, everything has been going so well for me. Of course, my luck is about to change now. Why wouldn’t it? You English and your stiff upper lips, always thinking the sky is going to start raining lollipops.”

  “Err, FYI, I was actually born in Wales, and I never liked lollipops. We’ve just avoided what I’m pretty certain would have been a gruesome and horrific death. I’m going to indulge in a little levity for two minutes.”

  “Ugh! I’m happy for you. I will keep my feet firmly on the ground rather than leaping through the air chasing rainbows.”

  Rod smiled broadly.

  chapter 10

  Izzy instructed Robyn to take a right turn, and they pulled onto a narrow track. The van bobbed up and down as it negotiated the uneven surface. “So, what’s your friend’s name?” Izzy asked.

  “Mila,” Robyn replied.

  “Describe her to me.”

  “Short blonde hair, err … amazing bone structure … err.”

  “Fights like a rabid dog trapped in a corner?” Izzy asked.

  A confused look swept over Robyn’s face, and she turned to look at the older woman. “She can look after herself, why?”

  “I’ve seen her.”

  Robyn brought the van to a stop. “What do you mean? What’s going on here?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  Robyn pulled on the handbrake and turned off the engine. “Well, we’re not going any further until you tell it, so the sooner you get talking the sooner we get moving.”

  Izzy smiled. “I haven’t known you for ten minutes and already I like you. You remind me of me.”

  “If you’ve got a sister, I feel sorry for her,” Robyn replied.

  “I haven’t. But I’ve got a brother, and he’s with your friend, Mila.”

  “What?”

  “Listen. That place, Andrew’s Bay, it’s...”

  “It’s what?”

  “I told you this is complicated. This whole stretch of coastline is gradually being taken over, one town at a time. Andrew’s Bay is the hub; it’s also the most westerly point of the empire for want of a better word. Your friend really did walk into the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Taken over by who? What empire?” Wren asked.

  “That’s where it gets even more complicated.”

  “Go on.”

  “They’re military but not. They wear the uniforms, have the weapons and equipment but—”

  “Wait a minute,” Robyn interrupted. “This doesn’t make sense.”

  “What doesn’t?” Izzy replied.

  “We met somebody on the road. They said the towns on this coastline were being taken over by a big gang of thugs from Inverness.”

  “If you’ll let me finish, I’ll get to that. It was a little bit more than a gang. There were about a hundred, mainly bikers. Real nasty bastards too. They knocked over a couple of the small towns in no time at all, but the bigger places, well, they managed to put up a fight. We thought if we could get rid of them, maybe we could band together, form our own small army to make sure nothing like that happened again. Turns out they were just a scouting party for this lot though. Not part of them but kind of in their employ.”

  “Okay, you’ve lost me again.”

  “The biker gang was reporting back to them, working for them.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “We captured a couple of the bikers. Some of them really didn’t like the way things were going and they made a run for it. Not without us putting the fear of God into them and getting them to spill everything they knew.”

  “So your brother, what happened?” Wren asked.

  “There are a lot of us that live … lived on the outskirts of these towns. You know what the Scottish countryside is like. We were doing a runner, getting as far away from here as we could, but things didn’t quite work out, and he got captured.”

  “You were just going to leave your home? You didn’t want to put up a fight?”

  “Of course we wanted to. By our count, there are about four hundred armed men and women, maybe more; if we got everyone who owned a weapon within fifty miles of here, we wouldn’t have a tenth of that. It’s Scotland, not Texas.”

  “So, what happened then?”

  “Well, I was kind of in limbo. I had enough food in my backpack to last me a few days, but I wasn’t going to go anywhere without Rod, so I just stayed in the area. I think a big part of me wanted to get caught, and I suppose I did but not by them. The people they’ve captured go out every day on raids. They chain them together and arm them with wooden spears. They’re a defence and … well … kind of an early warning system. We’ve managed to follow them a couple of times and watch from a distance.”

  “An early warning system?” Robyn asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “So what’s your plan?”

  “Start the engine, and I’ll take you to someone who can tell you.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The sound of the lorry’s engine drowned out everything else as it roared through the city streets. The one clear way of escape avoiding Inverness centre had been blocked off by the horde, and now all that was left was the suicide run.

  “Jesus, Rick, where’s he going?” asked the soldier, gripping on to his seat like a limpet.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know these streets. I’ve never actually been here before,” replied the driver as he took another sharp turn, making the tyres screech loudly.

  “Well, I have and this isn’t the way out.”

  They could not see much of the road ahead due to the two lorries in front, but anxious glances in the mirror showed that even though they had lost the massive horde, dozens of creatures previously lurking in doorways and alleyways were now emerging onto the streets in pursuit of the panic-stricken convoy.

  Like a pack of rabid dogs, five creatures charged from a side street towards the rear truck. The thundering sound as they smashed against the side of the cab and the cargo compartment sent jolts of hysteria through everyone who heard them.

  “Jesus,”
Rick said.

  “We need to turn,” said the passenger as the first lorry carried straight along the road. “We need to take the next left otherwise we’re just going to head back into the city, we need to—”

  “Button it, will you? We go whichever way they go. You really want to get split up? If something goes wrong, do you really want to end up alone in the middle of this city?”

  “That’s the whole point. I don’t want to be in the city, and they’re just taking us around in a big circle. If we go left, we can get out.”

  “We’re staying with—” Before Rick could even finish the sentence his passenger had leaned across and tugged the wheel to the left. “Shiiit!” screamed Rick, dragging the wheel back, but it was too late; the lorry kept on going but he had no control over it as it weaved from one side of the road to the other. It banged hard into the kerb and Rick held his breath as the vehicle banked wildly.

  There was an almighty crash as the lorry smashed down on its right side. Rick let out a howl of pain as a piece of shattered glass from the driver side window carved into his arm. The windscreen spider-webbed in multiple places with the force of the impact, only revealing fragments of the unfolding chaos outside as moving figures appeared from all directions closing in on the vehicle.

  Rick looked across to see his passenger just hanging there unconscious, suspended by the seat belt. There were muffled shouts and cries from the cargo compartment. Some people were banging on the walls screaming for help, others screaming in pain. But then came the sounds that he had been dreading—the sounds of bodies beginning to batter themselves against the rear, the roof, and the underside of the lorry. Finally, terror submerged him completely as a dark, moving, growling wall began to block out the little he could see through the shattered windscreen.

  In the distance, he heard the engines of the other lorries as they continued their getaway and realised there would be no rescue. This was it. This was the end.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  For the time being the rear doors were holding, but the cacophony surrounding the occupants of the cargo compartment told them that it was just a matter of time. Somehow the overhead light had remained on, except it wasn’t overhead anymore, it was now a wall light, but it cast enough illumination for people to grasp the full weight of the mayhem that had unfolded.

  The payload had sliced through the straps that had held it in position but, incredibly, had just toppled with the lorry, trapping nothing and no one beneath it.

  “I suppose we should count our blessings,” Rod said as he and Mila helped more battered and bruised people to their feet.

  “Oh yes, I was just thinking the same thing. How lucky I am to be trapped in a lorry surrounded by hundreds of hungry zombies. It is a shame the lottery is not still running, I would win for sure … dummkopf.”

  “I never did German in school, but that’s the same word you used for one of the guards today, so I’m guessing it’s not complimentary. What I mean is it would have been easy for those strips of fencing to come shooting towards us if we’d have landed differently. We could all have been chopped in half.”

  “Ah yes, this worked out much better,” Mila replied as the banging intensified.

  Rod ignored her sarcasm, and they both helped a terrified young woman to her feet. “Are you okay?” Rod asked.

  She nodded slowly. “I think so. Thank you.”

  “Hey! Is everybody okay?” Rod called out.

  The chains jingled as more people rose, and through the frightened shouts and screams, he heard a kind of roll call.

  “My nose is bleeding,” said one.

  “I think I’ve sprained my wrist,” replied another.

  “I’ve got a bad cut on my arm,” said someone else.

  The list went on, but everyone was conscious, and no one had suffered anything life-threatening or permanently debilitating. The volume of the growls as more and more infected massed around the vehicle began to rival that of the thunderous clattering, and despite Rod’s best attempts to quieten the occupants of the cargo compartment, the cries and screams continued as the lorry juddered and shifted.

  “STILLE!” Mila screamed. “SILENCE!” Her voice cut through those around her, it cut through the thudding and banging, it even cut through the growls, and the occupants of the cargo compartment fell silent. “We need to stay quiet. The more noise we make the more those things will want to get in here. If we stay silent, then maybe something will take their attention away from us after a time.”

  The ones crying continued but much quieter now. No one could argue with the scary blonde woman’s logic. Mila locked eyes with those looking at her, and just like staring down a dog to affirm who is in charge they looked away one by one. Several found a space on what once had been the right wall but was now the floor of the lorry to sit down as the compartment continued to rattle and shake.

  “Nice work,” Rod said under his breath.

  “I just need five minutes to think without that noise,” she said, holding her hand up to the side of her head.

  “Well, I can ask politely, but I don’t think the zombies will be as cooperative as everyone else.”

  “I can live with the sound of the infected just not with the sound of weakness.”

  “You sure you were an artist and not a social worker before all this happened? A caring nature like yours—”

  “Yes, very funny. Please save your jokes and let me have just a few minutes.” She glared at Rod, but unlike the others, he did not look away. He just nodded respectfully and watched as Mila turned from him and the others, sat down cross-legged and placed her fingers against her temples.

  Outside, it sounded like they were in the middle of a full Wembley stadium as the creatures continued their relentless banging, but inside Mila’s head, she finally had the silence she craved.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Rifles and shotguns were raised as Robyn pulled the van into the yard, but as Izzy waved from the passenger seat, they were all lowered once again. A tall man in his forties came out of the dilapidated cottage to greet the occupants as they dismounted. Wren put her finger up to Wolf to make sure he stayed in the van. The last thing she needed was for him to go wandering.

  “This is Marcus,” Izzy said to the girls before turning to the man, “and this is Wren and Robyn.” They went inside the cottage to find it looked even worse than it did from the outside. Mould crept up the walls and rodent droppings decorated the countertops.

  “Nice place you’ve got here,” Robyn said, to which she received no response.

  “Marcus, these girls are looking for their friend, a young blonde woman who went missing a few days ago.”

  Marcus raised his left eyebrow. “Is she the—”

  “I’m pretty certain it’s the same one.”

  “Then today’s your lucky day,” Marcus said, turning to look at Wren and Robyn.

  “Why’s that then?” Robyn asked.

  “’Cause tonight there’s going to be a jailbreak,” he said, smiling.

  Robyn and Wren looked at him blankly. “Not everyone is as old as you, Marcus. These girls won’t have heard that song,” Izzy said, rolling her eyes. “Let me translate for you. When the convoy comes back this way this afternoon, we’re going to strike.”

  “What do you mean strike?” Wren asked.

  “We’ve studied their patterns. The trucks go out every day, but we never know from one day to the next which direction until the actual morning. There are only fourteen of us, we don’t have the resources to man the three or four different routes that they could take, but this morning, they went out on the road we found you on. They’ll be coming back that way too.”

  “Fourteen? And how many of them?” Wren asked.

  “That’s the beauty of it. There are only twelve. Three men in each truck and three bikers.”

  “I don’t underst—”

  “Why we’ve waited so long to strike?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “We’re only
going to get one attempt at this, and twelve might not sound like a lot, but they’ve got army-issue assault rifles and plenty of ammo. We’ve scrambled together a few weapons, bullets and shells. We can’t get into a shootout with them. We’re going to have to take them by surprise, fast.”

  Robyn and Wren looked at each other. They didn’t need to speak; both knew what the other was thinking. Wren turned to look at Marcus and then towards Izzy. “There are sixteen of you now.”

  chapter 11

  Rick had no idea how the windscreen had not caved yet. It kept making a loud creaking sound, almost like a rickety floorboard about to give, but for the time being, it stayed in position. He heard a sound to his left and looked across to see his passenger staring wide-eyed at the terrifying spectacle in front of them. He remained somehow wedged between the curvature of the seat and the safety belt holding him in position. The passenger turned towards Rick and a look of even greater horror appeared on his face.

  Something fell from the passenger’s face, and Rick was too slow to move his head as a warm, salty tear splashed against his own lips. He was beyond feeling anger. Anger would have been appropriate if there was a way of getting out of this alive, but there was no means of escape for either of them, plus it would take more anger than he thought he could muster to drown the overwhelming terror that consumed him.

  “It’s okay, Harry. It’s okay,” Rick said, but it wasn’t until he spoke the words that he realised there was something very wrong. His sentence bubbled in the back of his throat as if he was gargling blood. He slowly reached up to feel a piece of glass sticking out of the side of his neck. His pain receptors had registered the one in his shoulder but not this. Funny how things work. A random thought, a strange thought. It wasn't funny at all. There was nothing funny about any of this. Due to Harry’s all-consuming fear and act of incomprehensible stupidity, he was now slowly bleeding to death.

  “I’m sorry, Rick,” Harry said as more tears fell from his eyes down onto the dying man’s face.

  Rick tried to speak again, but everything, even keeping his eyes open, was becoming a huge effort. He exhaled deeply, hearing more blood bubbling in the back of his throat. Getting so tired. Death wouldn’t be long in coming now. Better this than the death Harry would experience. He turned his head ever so slightly to look out through the shattered windscreen. A ripping sound tore through the growls and banging, and out of the corner of his eye, Rick saw the far corner of the windscreen fold inwards and an arm reach towards Harry.