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

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The End of Everything | Book 8 | The End of Everything Page 14

by Artinian, Christopher

Several shrill cries sounded as the bulb flickered for the final time before going out. The hole let in a small amount of daylight, and each time the panel surrounding it juddered a little more bled through, but most of the interior was in relative darkness. Strangely, darkness had become their friend. Darkness meant that their crude construction was doing its job, holding the enemy at bay. They were finally all working together instead of against one another.

  It was only when another loud ping sounded from the far end of the lorry nearest the cab that Mila and Dean knew that their newfound good fortune was short-lived.

  chapter 17

  Robyn and Wren remained glued to the spot. They did not relinquish their bows as the man had commanded; they stood there weighing their options. None of them were good. Gradually, the man straightened up, keeping his weapon aimed towards them. “Step back!” he shouted through the window, and this time both sisters did as ordered. “I’ll say it again; drop your weapons and your rucksacks too.”

  Robyn and Wren looked at each other and begrudgingly placed their bows and backpacks on the ground, then Robyn withdrew her swords and placed those as well as the quivers on the tarmac too. “We just saved your life, and this is how you repay us?” Robyn said as the man climbed out of the car.

  “You didn’t save my life, you saved your own. Those things were going to get you.”

  “See that while you were cowering in the back seat, did you?” Wren asked, to her sister’s amazement.

  “You’ve got a big mouth for a little girl.” He limped away from the car, leaving the back door open. There was a motorcycle helmet in the footwell, and it became clear that this man was the third biker. He had a powerful build and his eyes darted around the landscape looking for signs of trouble before moving back to Robyn and Wren. “How did you get here?”

  “Train, why?” Wren answered.

  A sneer curled up the corners of his mouth. “Not very bright to piss off a man holding a gun on you, little girl.”

  “Yeah, well, I figured not being very bright was the order of the day. Thought I’d give it a try to see what all the fuss is about. Can’t say I care for it much, I think I’ll go back to using my brain. Shame you can’t join me.”

  The soldier lunged forward and backhanded Wren across the face before stepping back once more. Her head shot to one side, and her cheek turned bright red, but she did not give him the satisfaction of crying out. Robyn went rigid; every impulse in her body was telling her to grab the hunting knife she kept in the back of her belt and attack. If she mistimed it, though, if he figured out what she was doing, it could be the end of them both. Hopefully, the right time would come, but that time wasn’t now.

  “What the hell’s that?” he demanded, fixing his gaze towards Wren’s belt. Wren looked down to her side to see her knife. She let out a sigh. “Take it out and drop it. You!” he said, turning to look at Robyn. “Lift your jacket and turn around.”

  Shit! Robyn did as he said, and as she turned, she felt his fingers brush against her as he removed her weapon. “Sorry. Forgot about that.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Look,” began Wren, “we—”

  “Quiet. This is how it is. I’ve got the gun, and you do as I say. If I ask you a question, I suggest you answer it; otherwise, I’m going to start hurting you, and, trust me, that won’t be nice. Now, I’ll ask you again, how did you get here?”

  “We walked,” Wren said.

  “I told you, I’m not messing around,” he said with a snarl.

  “She’s telling the truth,” Robyn snapped. “We live outside of the city.”

  “Bobbi!”

  Robyn glanced towards her sister and continued. “We walked in. You’d have to be a frikkin’ idiot to come into this place with something that had an engine.”

  The soldier’s eyes narrowed. “Are you calling me an idiot?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s what it sounds like.”

  “How the hell would I know how you came into the city?”

  He glared at her for a moment longer. “This place. How far is it?”

  “Head over the bridge, and it’s just a short hike.”

  “Bobbi!”

  “And it’s just you two?” he asked with a sneer.

  “Yeah. We have trust issues. Can’t think why.”

  For the first time, the soldier smiled, but not for long. “What are you doing in the city?”

  “Supplies. We come in to stock up every now and again. Looks like we’ve timed it perfectly today.”

  “Bullshit. Nobody would come into the heart of a city for supplies. Why are you really here?”

  “It’s the truth. All the smaller villages have been torn apart. There’s nothing left in them. Some of the shops are still half full here.”

  He looked towards where the sound of the horde was coming from, and his eyes narrowed again before turning back towards the two girls. “Okay,” he said. “We’re going to take a little trip.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  They heard another loud ping, and a narrow shaft of daylight broke through from the opposite end of the cargo compartment. “Christ! There’s no more fencing left for us to try to reinforce it,” Dean cried.

  “You’re just going have to push against the panel itself,” Bill shouted back. “At least it’s not got holes in it like this one.”

  Dean looked towards Mila then the others who were not currently helping to reinforce the first barricade. “Come on,” he shouted as they all ran across. There was now a constant slit of daylight bleeding into the compartment from the disintegrating panel nearest the door, and intermittent flashes from the other side gave them enough illumination to work with. As they placed their hands on the cold metal interior and pushed hard, a tremble of terror ran through all of them. They could feel the thundering fists on the other side, they could hear the chilling growls, and, in addition, the stench of rot was now seeping into the compartment as well. All that stood between them and the sea of unimaginable horror that was rising like a foul-smelling tsunami was a strip of rust-damaged metal.

  “I don’t understand. How is this happening?” Mila cried out as she leant into the wall with all her weight.

  “These lorries have been around a long time. The elements have got to them and, y’know; fair do’s, this isn’t exactly what they were built for. I mean, look at this bloody roof. It’s been chopped and welded a dozen times.”

  Suddenly an ear-piercing shriek made all heads turn as the metal buckled a little. Somehow, the studs were still holding it in position, but now there was a gap revealing shadowy movement.

  “Scheisse!” Mila screamed, leaping across and placing her hands onto the misshapen section as she desperately tried to push it back into place. It was impossible. The force that had caused this was far greater than any she could muster. The pounding continued, making her bones rattle.

  “That’s not going to last long,” Dean shouted. “Now it’s buckled, it’s going to be weaker than ever.”

  Mila continued to push with everything she had. It was only when four spindly grey fingers wormed their way into the freshly created gap that she realised time was not on their side.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “Back up further,” the soldier demanded. The two sisters did as he said, and he limped forward and picked up their rucksacks. The butt of the pump-action shotgun protruded out of Robyn’s and the soldier raised his eyebrow. “I’m not getting the full story here, but I will.” There was a menacing smirk on his face as he made eye contact with each of them.

  “What happened to your leg?” Robyn asked. No reply. “I said—”

  “I heard what you said. It’s none of your business.”

  “It’s my business if one of those things got you.”

  He looked down at the bloody patch on the side of his trousers. “It wasn’t one of them. I came off my bike. Couldn’t get the bloody thing restarted; then a bunch of those ugly bastards appeared at the bottom of the street,
so I made a run for it.”

  “You had a gun. Why didn’t you fight your way out?”

  “There were too many of them. Now come on, let’s go see this place of yours.”

  Wren and Robyn turned around and started walking back in the direction they had come. They could hear the soldier behind them as his shoe dragged against the tarmac.

  “You’re a soldier, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be protecting us?” Wren asked.

  “Not that kind of soldier, sweetheart, and, besides, I discharged myself today. Now I’m a free agent.”

  “So, what are you going to do with us?”

  “Well, first of all, we’re going to see what this place of yours is like. I’m going to patch my leg up, and then we’ll figure the rest out from there. But I’m pretty certain I can find a use for two young girls like you, so don’t worry your pretty heads.”

  Rage had been bubbling deep within Robyn for some time. She was as angry with herself as she was with the man holding them captive, but she was doing her best to keep her feelings in check until an opportunity arose. This was not that moment, but the cavalier threat sent her over the edge. She skipped back and spun around, extending her left boot out as far as she could, hoping he would be in striking distance.

  His eyes were scanning the landscape to the left as Robyn made her move. It was only when he caught the blur of movement that he turned back, but by then the attack was underway.

  Wren was the last to realise what was going on, and as she turned to see Robyn’s toes connecting with the soldier’s forearm, her heart suddenly lifted.

  The soldier let out a stifled scream as a massive jolt of pain shot through him. Reflexively, his index finger squeezed the trigger, causing a deafening crack to reverberate up and down the street.

  Robyn knew it was not an aimed shot. She knew she had taken him completely off guard, and now the adrenaline was really beginning to surge as she began to feel empowered once more. It was only when her sister flew backwards before dropping to the ground like a sack full of bricks that the world closed in around her.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The feeling of hopelessness for Mila lasted just a few seconds as the sound of the gunshot in the distance roused her from whatever defeatist self-pity she was feeling. She was a survivor and while there was air in her lungs and blood in her veins she would not give up … not again. She had given up on the riverbank that night; she had given up in that room when she had been held captive by the crazy vegans, but she was not about to give up now. She stood back from the wall and looked at the grey fingers continuing to squeeze and stretch their way through the gap. The panel had buckled just below shoulder height. If it gave way more, a hand would squeeze through, then an arm. She looked towards the top where the studs had sprung loose. The metal sheet rattled every time a fist pummelled against it. It was all just a matter of time now, but she was not going to give in.

  Frightened cries escaped the mouths of those around her as a thumb and finally a hand snaked its way through the gap to join the fingers already there, searching out the darkness. “Nein!” Mila shouted at the top of her voice. “Nein, nein, nein, nein, nein!” She took a step back, and whereas the faces of the others wore nothing but fear, hers was consumed by a fury she had never felt before. The ghoulish appendage slithered further into the confines of the lorry. Its fingers clenched and unclenched rapidly almost as if they sensed warm flesh was within reach.

  “Oh, God no,” cried one woman.

  “Mila, what are you doing?” Dean asked as the demonic grey hand continued to search the darkness.

  Mila glanced towards him and in the snatched flashes of light as the panel shook with each volley of hammering he could see the wildness in her eyes. She turned back to look at the hand and then, without warning, unleashed a barrage of high kicks, stomping against it with the sole of her boot, over and over. She felt the ulna and the radius bones snap beneath her foot; she saw the hand droop as the creature lost the ability to control it, but still she did not stop.

  All eyes were on her now. She could hear the gasps as those around watched the relentless attack. “Aaarrrggghhh!” Eventually, she stopped. Sweat was dripping down her forehead and back. She stared towards the limp, lifeless limb, now broken and wedged into position like some grotesque joke shop toy. Get your zombie arms here. Guaranteed to make your friends scream out loud.

  “I suppose that’s one way to make sure the gap doesn’t get any wider,” Dean shouted, placing his full weight back on the panel.

  Mila brought her breathing under control and did the same. One by one, the other zefs followed suit. Despite their instincts telling them it was all over, seeing Mila’s display of unbridled aggression towards the invading arm stoked the tiniest flame of optimism inside them.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The shock of watching her sister gunned down turned to rage in the blink of an eye. Before the soldier had time to bring his hand back up and point the gun at Robyn, she dived onto him like a cheetah attacking a gazelle. The rucksacks slid off the soldier’s shoulder as he lost his balance, and they both toppled to the ground. His head smashed against the tarmac and he let out a pained grunt as Robyn gathered herself and straddled him, pinning his gun arm down with her left hand while unleashing a mighty punch with her right. His head bounced off the ground again, and this time he let out a scream.

  “You piece of shit,” Robyn screamed at the top of her voice as she punched him again, even harder this time.

  “Aagghh!”

  “I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done,” she yelled even louder as she pummelled him once more. She felt the cartilage of his nose snap beneath her knuckles. “You bastard.” Whack—thump—whoomph.

  Robyn’s assault was so fast, so vicious that the soldier had no time to recover, no time to respond. Each time the back of his head smashed against the ground, he felt a little bit more dazed. He felt blood running over his cheeks, into his eyes, down the back of his throat. In one concerted effort, he tried to use his girth to roll, to fling this mad girl off him, but it was no use. She was not going anywhere.

  The soldier writhed beneath Robyn, but she rode him as if he was a mechanical bull, refusing to let herself get thrown off. This bastard’s shot my sister, and it’s the last thing he’s ever going to do. She continued to punch and smash. Even when he stopped moving, even when she saw blood running out from beneath his skull and his eyes closed, she continued. Tears ran down her cheeks; pure hatred surged through every cell in her body as she continued. Death was better than he deserved, but it was the only small modicum of justice she could achieve.

  Eventually, she stopped. She remained there, shaking with rage as she stared at him. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. All these months the only thing she had been thinking about was being with her sister again, and now this lowlife had ripped that one dream from her in a split second. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she sobbed hopelessly. She couldn’t bring herself to turn around, to look at Wren.

  The sound of the horde still sang in the distance, but that didn’t matter. How could she go on?

  “Bobbi?” Robyn thought she was hearing things at first. Wren’s gentle voice drifting on the breeze, saying goodbye one last time. “Bobbi?”

  Robyn’s head shot around, and she saw her sister’s hand move slightly. “Wren?” she said, scrambling to her feet. “Wren?” She ran across to her and knelt by her side. So violently had Wren been thrown backwards, so silently, not even a grunt or a yelp of pain; she had been convinced her sister had died in that instant. Now Robyn’s heart leapt as she saw Wren’s eyes open slowly.

  “My head hurts.”

  “First things first. Where did the bullet land?”

  “I think my left arm.”

  “Your arm? Your arm?” An elated smile crept onto Robyn’s face. “Oh my God. I thought you were dead for sure the way you flew back.” Robyn looked carefully. She couldn’t see the blood at first, but then she notice
d red patches on Wren’s sleeve and just to the right of her left breast. “I can’t look at it properly out here. There might be some infected in the area trying to find out where the hell that shot came from. Do you think you can stand up?”

  “I think so.” Wren sat up first and touched the back of her head. There was a little bit of blood where the skin had grazed the road. “I guess I banged myself up a bit.”

  “Banged up we can handle. Let’s take a look at the wound.”

  Robyn climbed to her feet and helped Wren to hers. Once she was steady, Robyn picked up the gun, the rucksacks and their own weapons. Wren could not take her eyes off the soldier. The sheer level of unrelenting violence that had been unleashed on him was staggering.

  “Are you okay, Sis?” she asked as she looked towards Robyn.

  “Robyn looked down at the battered body then towards her sister. “I thought he’d killed you.”

  “Yeah, but … are you okay?”

  “I am now. I really don’t know what I’d have done if—”

  “Let’s not think about it. I’m here, and we’re together. Where should we go?” Wren asked.

  “You know this place better than anyone.”

  “There’s a bar.”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about getting pissed. I was thinking about alcohol for the wound.”

  “Haven’t you got ointment and stuff? You usually carry an entire bloody first aid kit around with you.”

  “I’ve got a packet of painkillers, but that’s it.”

  “Are you going to be okay to get to this place?”

  Wren gently touched the back of her head again then moved her hand around to the wound. “Yeah, I think so.”

  They carried on along the road; Robyn scanned every corner, every nook as they went. They reached a junction and Wren leant up against a wall for a moment to catch her breath while Robyn peeked around the corner to make sure the coast was clear. When she was sure it was, she signalled for Wren to join her. “How much farther?”

  “Second alley on the right.”

  “Alley? Obviously a high-class place.”

 

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