The Virus

by Lee, Damien

  They both looked down at the motionless corpse. The gaping hole in the back of its head offered a clear view of its brain. The skin on its legs was gone, exposing muscle and bone in places.

  “What happened to this guy?”

  “If you’re referring to its legs, that’s a result of being dragged for a mile and a half.”

  The pair looked into the back of the van as Tina came into view. She shuffled past the pile of wood and leapt to the ground. Simon followed her out.

  “You’re okay?” Lisa gasped.

  “Yeah, but we were almost zombie food back there. What took you so long?”

  “I didn’t know if you were in or not.”

  “Well, we were! Then these guys got in.” She kicked the corpse at their feet.

  “Where’s Elaine?” Simon demanded.

  “She’s not back yet.”

  “What? I’ll kill you!” He lunged at Frank, who sidestepped him with ease. In a quick motion, he swiped Simon’s legs. The man hit the ground hard, wheezing as the air escaped his lungs.

  “Try it, Porky,” Frank spat.

  “You should… never have… split us up.” Simon slowly rose to his feet.

  “Why not?”

  “Because they might be dead because of you!” Ben snapped as he joined the group.

  “Look, I want them to come back as much as you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’ve got our food supply, you dickhead. I don’t give a shit who comes back as long as they bring food!”

  “You bastard.” Ben stepped forward, stopping only when Frank produced the handgun.

  “I don’t want to kill you. But I won’t think twice if you leave me no choice.” The two men locked stares as the rest of the group looked on. “Now sit down, chill out, we’ll give them five more minutes.”

  “I’m not leaving Elaine,” Simon muttered.

  “Then stay! I don’t care.” Frank placed the gun back in his jacket and peered into the transit van. “So what did you get?”

  “Mostly planks of wood. But we picked up a few nail guns, hammers, and sandbags,” Lisa replied.

  “Great, that should do the trick. Were there any problems?” Frank observed a hint of sorrow flash over Lisa’s eyes before she replied.

  “A few hiccups, but we made it out.”

  “Good.”

  The pair turned as the roar of an engine filled the silent street. A red sports car idled into view, slowing to a halt next to the van.

  “Elaine!” Simon cried.

  Frank looked on as the man’s spouse jumped from the car. The pair embraced as Amy rose from the driver’s seat.

  “Ben?” She glanced from face to face. Her eyes lit up when he came into view.

  “I thought they were dead,” Frank admitted. He turned away from the joyful reunion to look at Lisa. “It makes you sick, doesn’t it?”

  “Sure does.” She nodded. “Let’s go see their haul.”

  They approached the car, looking at the array of food on the back seat.

  “Is this it?” Frank asked.

  “No, Glen has most of the food.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” Amy replied. “He was behind us for a while, but then I looked back and he wasn’t there.”

  “What was he driving?”

  “A lorry. Bigger than that one.” She pointed at the vehicle Frank and Ben had arrived in.

  “A lorry?” Frank repeated. “How the hell do you lose a lorry?”

  “I told you, he was behind us one minute, then he wasn’t.”

  “We can’t wait for him. If he doesn’t turn up at the house by tomorrow, we’ll have to come back and get more food.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to do it without us,” Ben announced. “This is where we part ways.”

  “What?”

  “We told you from the beginning, we’ll help you, but we’re not staying.”

  “That’s fine,” Frank replied. “Fat twat, you and your missus can take the Transit. We’ll take the lorry, and I’m sure Tina wouldn’t mind a spin in that car.”

  The teenager grinned as she approached the sports car.

  “Whoa, hold on,” Ben snapped. “We want our share.”

  “Your share?”

  “Yeah, like we agreed.”

  “What we agreed was that you would help us get all this stuff back to the house. If you’re going to leave us here, then the deal is off.”

  Ben and Amy looked at each other.

  “Fine,” Ben conceded. “We’ll take the stuff back and then we’ll leave.”

  “Good man. Right, Tina and nurse can go in the car, the whales can take the van and we’ll take the truck. Ben, you get in the back of the Transit.”

  He waited for the group to disperse before climbing into the LGV.

  “How much stuff are you going to give them when we get back?” Lisa asked as she climbed into the passenger seat.

  “Whatever it takes to get rid of them.” Frank started the van, waiting for the others to drive ahead.

  “I wonder what happened to Glen,” Lisa muttered.

  “Who knows? But if he does turn up, he better have food.”

  ***

  Glen sped down the street leading to his home. It seemed like an eternity since he had stopped following Amy, but he guessed it had only been five minutes. A burdening feeling of guilt formed as he imagined the group looking for him. He intended to return with the food they had salvaged, but he knew there was one thing he had to do first. With a newfound determination, he pushed the lorry further.

  He soon realised that the small cul-de-sac he had lived in for five years would struggle to house a HGV. But he ploughed on, smashing cars aside and crushing the milling undead beneath the monstrous wheels. Before long, he pulled up alongside his house. He grabbed the shotgun and leapt from the vehicle. Leaving the engine idling, he marched up the garden path, scanning the area for any signs of the undead. There were none, but his door was ajar. He racked the shotgun, contemplating the horrors inside.

  The hallway was empty as he stepped onto the threshold. He remained rooted to the spot, listening for a sound within the house. After a few seconds of silence, he was sure the house was empty. He closed the door behind him and stepped into the kitchen. It was there that he met his elderly neighbour.

  “Mrs. Cropley?” he stammered

  The old woman whirled around. She snarled at him, her eyes manic until he blew her head off. Blood and brain matter spattered the kitchen as Glen rushed over to the cutlery drawer. He stopped as an eager cry came from the doorway. The two men who had pursued him earlier now rushed at him again. This time, Glen was ready. Resting the shotgun against his shoulder, he blasted the pair with a single shot. Both fell to the ground in a heap as he pried the drawer open. He rummaged through the utensils until he found the sharpest knife he owned. Resting his shotgun on the counter, he placed his hand on the work surface.

  “C’mon.”

  He held the knife above his injured finger. The blade trembled as he tried to muster the nerve to go ahead with his plan. He let out an exasperated sigh as he stepped away from the counter.

  “C’mon!”

  His heart pounded against his chest as he paced back and forth. He glanced around the kitchen until he saw a towel. He snatched it from the worktop, bunched it up tight and bit down on one of the bulky edges. He spread his fingers wide on the tabletop, lifting the knife above his injured digit once more. He breathed deeply, trying hard to slow the pace of his heart. His hand became steady as he lowered the blade closer. He closed his eyes and began to count.

  “One. Two. Three!”

  The towel muffled his words, along with his screams as he sliced into the finger. He tried to cut through in one fluid motion, but the bone remained strong. Screaming into the towel, he looked away as he pushed all his weight on the blade. Eventually, the bone snapped, allowing
the knife to slice the rest of the way through his muscle and flesh.

  The room spun, bobbing up and down as his finger rolled away. He slumped to the ground, trying not to look at the bloodied stump left behind. Tears streamed from his eyes as he cradled his hand in the towel. The white fabric turned red as he wrapped it up. He breathed heavily, keeping his eyes firmly closed. The pain was unbearable, but he knew if it saved his life it was worth it.

  On unsteady legs, he rose to his feet, aided by the shotgun which he used to push himself upright. The world continued to spin as he made his way over to the medicine drawer. He swallowed a cocktail of painkillers before remembering the second reason he returned home. He glanced at the kitchen table, relieved to see his bag of cannabis was untouched. Wiping away the tears in his eyes, he grabbed the bag and his lighter before staggering out of the house.

  The cul-de-sac was still relatively empty, except for two undead Rottweilers. They snarled at Glen from the other side of the street as he cautiously approached the lorry. Red foam dripped from their fangs. One had its ribcage exposed, whilst the other stood on skeletal paws and had a huge portion of its shoulder missing. Both had fur matted with congealing blood. Wide eyes above mangled snouts watched him as he slowly reached for the door. Barking in unison, the pair dashed toward him.

  Glen jumped inside and slammed the door shut as the two dogs bounced off the side. Their barking alerted others. All at once, several zombies emerged from neighbouring buildings. They eyed him hungrily as he turned the huge vehicle around. A brief jerk as he went told him that one dog had fallen under the wheels. He ignored the yelp, swinging the vehicle around until it was facing the right direction. Putting the lorry in gear once more, he drove forward, pursued by the persistent undead.

  It only took him five minutes to reach the countryside again, leaving the ruined town behind. He blinked hard, trying to focus his vision as he rolled the cannabis between his fingers. The road ahead was empty, barring the odd abandoned car at the side of the road. Glen cast a glance at the vehicles as he retrieved his lighter. Nobody was inside, at least not from what he could tell as he raced past. He inhaled deeply, savouring the hot smoke that filled his lungs.

  Despite waiting in anticipation for the high, he already felt lightheaded. He looked down at the sodden towel encasing his hand and could not help but wonder if he was safe. The hazy vision he attributed to blood loss. The slowing heart rate he blamed on the pills. Yet, it was too soon to blame his ravenous hunger on the cannabis. He looked at the remaining digits on his hand, surprised at how appealing they were starting to look.

  ***

  “Okay, we’ve brought your stuff back. Now let’s talk about splitting it.”

  “Fair enough,” Frank answered, looking between Ben and Amy, “What do you want?”

  “Half.”

  “Ha, you’re pulling my leg.”

  “We don’t want half,” Amy interrupted. “All we want are a few weapons, ammo, food and that car.”

  Frank looked at the sports car with raised eyebrows. “Now you’re pulling my leg. I haven’t even had a go in it yet.”

  The pair watched him, annoyed.

  “Okay, fine, take the car. Start unloading it and we’ll swap guns for food.” Frank approached the rear of the lorry and swung the metal doors wide.

  “Wow, look at your haul.” Lisa beamed as she joined him.

  “You should see some of the guns we picked up. We’ve got American imports and handguns. Our gun shop must have been doing some dodgy deals.”

  “Most gun shops are.” She looked around at Frank’s bewildered face. “What? I know a bit about guns.”

  “Yeah, and where to get them,” he said. “How?”

  “I used to hang out with the right people. You learn things. And I can tell you, you don’t need to travel far to get your hands on illegal guns, it doesn’t matter where you live.”

  “You learn something new every day. Either way, they’re not getting their mitts on these imports. They can have two handguns, a shotgun, a rifle, and that’s their lot.”

  “No grenades?”

  “Funny enough there wasn’t any there.”

  “It’s a shame we’re not in Manchester. I know a few places where you can get them.”

  “Okay, smart arse, you know your guns. I get it. Stop trying to impress me.” He jumped into the back as Tina appeared beside Lisa.

  “They’ve emptied the car, now they want their weapons.”

  “Right, you take this, and this.” He passed a shotgun and rifle to Tina. The teenager disappeared from view as Frank retrieved two boxes of bullets.

  “Two boxes each?” Lisa muttered. “How many have you got?”

  “Loads, but they won’t be able to carry many.”

  He passed the shotgun and rifle rounds to Lisa along with two handguns. He watched her walk back around the side of the van before he retrieved two boxes of handgun bullets. He jumped from the lorry and made for the others. It was then that movement in the distance caught his eye. He watched as a HGV turned onto the road leading up to the farmhouse.

  “Looks like our food has arrived.”

  “We want more than this,” Ben said, rattling the boxes of bullets.

  “Are you going to war or something? That’s more than enough.”

  The thunderous roar of the HGV grew louder as Ben stepped closer to Frank.

  “We want more than this. I didn’t risk my life for four boxes.”

  “Six, actually,” Frank said, handing over more handgun bullets. “And you’re welcome.”

  “Hey, Glen!” Amy yelled. She held up a hand for him to slow down, but the signal was lost on the driver as he ploughed on. “Glen!”

  Amy stepped back as the lorry drew close. The rumbling engine caught the attention of the rest of the group.

  “What the fuck is he doing?” Frank snapped.

  They watched in horror as the lorry sped off the road, striking the transit van. The white van tipped onto its side as the HGV roared past.

  “Glen!” Lisa bellowed.

  She rejoined the rest of the group as the lorry smashed into the farmhouse. The foundations crumbled around the solid metal frame as it finally came to a halt. They looked on as the upper level of the building collapsed. A plume of dust and grit burst high into the air as bricks and mortar rained down on the lorry. The group retreated to a safe distance as the rubble scattered around. Only a small section of the house remained intact.

  “I’m going to kill that little prick.”

  Frank marched forward as the driver’s door swung open. Glen fell from the vehicle amid a cloud of dust. Despite his distorted view, Frank fired twice into the smokescreen. A shriek told him he had hit his target.

  “You shot him,” Amy gasped, running to Glen’s aid. It was as she neared she realised he was long dead. Despite the dust clouding her view, the unmistakable growl within was all she needed to hear. She turned away as Frank approached his vehicle. He looked out to the road as he went, his breath seizing in his lungs.

  “Oh, fuck!”

  The rest of the group turned and followed his line of sight towards the crowd that was making their way across the field.

  “That idiot has brought them right to us,” Lisa stammered.

  “Ben, we have to go,” Amy urged, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him to the sports car.

  “You three, get in the back, now!” Frank snapped at the remaining trio. Tina obeyed and rushed towards the rear of the lorry.

  “What about him?” Elaine asked, pointing towards Glen. “You’ve injured him, we can’t leave him behind.”

  Frank looked past the couple at the downed man. The dust cloud had cleared, revealing the crawling figure it had previously concealed. They stared at Glen’s eager eyes as he tried to rise, but the bullet in his leg prevented him from using it. Collapsing in a heap, he began dragging himself towards them. He stopped as a loud bang accompanied a bullet in his head.

  “Problem solved
,” Frank said, lowering his handgun. “Stay with him if you want. If not, get in!”

  He strode toward the cab of the lorry where Lisa was already waiting.

  “Was he a zombie?” she asked.

  “Apparently.”

  Frank put the lorry in gear and spun the wheel. The wide circle proved time-consuming as the horde of undead drew near. He watched the sports car race down the track ahead of them, past the approaching zombies.

  “Looks like they got the better deal,” he said as the lorry was finally facing the right way.

  “How? We’ve got the guns.”

  “They’ve got the food.”

  “Not all of it.” Lisa moved her legs aside, revealing four bags of cans and boxes in the footwell.

  “You really are a master thief, aren’t you?”

  “Sure am.”

  “But they still have the fast car.”

  “We’ve got durability. It’ll take a lot to smash this thing up.”

  “They don’t have Blob and Blubber to contend with.”

  Lisa looked at him thoughtfully. “Okay, they have the better deal.”

  As they looked ahead, it was clear the crowd would cut them off. They sprinted across the field as the lorry trudged on.

  “Things are going to get bumpy.” Frank said.

  The zombies spilled onto the track ahead of them. He aimed the handgun out of the window, firing in quick succession. Two of the creatures fell, but the bullets whizzed past the majority. Frank continued to fire with one hand on the wheel. A few more stumbled as the gun clicked empty. He sat back in his seat as the sea of undead roared closer.

  “Hold on!”

  He pushed the lorry harder, speeding towards the crowd until at last, they collided.

  The impact shook the LGV more than he expected. The vehicle slowed as the countless bodies fell beneath its wheels.

  “Faster!” Lisa cried as the lorry’s speed decreased.

  “I’m trying!”

  He had no idea how many corpses he had crushed, but the sheer number they still faced was enough to dishearten him. As the lorry had almost ground to a halt, he decided on a different approach.