Sue explained, “You watched as Joan gunned down my son, but there could be a cure for all this. He could have been saved.”
“Sue, you're not thinking straight,” said Joan. “He would have eventually got out of that car and attacked us for sure. If it wasn't for the seatbelt, he would have already left the car.”
“I'm sorry, Sue.” Gordon lowered his head. “There was nothing else we could do.”
“I can't believe what we've had to go through over the last couple of days.” Sue was still sobbing, and was beginning to get on Lloyd's nerves.
“I know.” Gordon nodded. “I can't help thinking about Stripy John.”
“Our story isn't that unique,” Lloyd butted in. “I don't really want to shit in your porridge, but there's gonna be thousands of people out there with more horrific stories than yours.” He then glared at Joan and Gordon. “You two don't have kids. Imagine your whole family being affected by this.”
“Alright, Lloyd.” Gordon was annoyed with Lloyd's negative attitude. “It's not a competition.”
“It's not. All I'm saying is ... stop feeling sorry for yourselves, man. It's happening. We need to fucking deal with it.”
“So what do we do?” Joan looked around at the three adults for answers. “Do we stay up here for the night? Or check the place out when it's quiet?”
“How many cartridges have you got left for that shotgun?” Lloyd looked over at Gordon.
Gordon Burns ruffled his hands in his pockets and pulled out just the one cartridge. He gaped over to Joan who shrugged her shoulders, telling him that she had none.
“Maybe some fell out of my pocket,” said Gordon.
“Good.” Lloyd surprised everyone with his short statement. “It's that thing that's brought these things here, as well as that Barry's screaming. It can still come in handy as a bat. At least it'll be quieter.”
Despite Lloyd's rant, Gordon placed the last cartridge into the gun and snapped it shut and put it on the floor next to his legs. All they had for weapons was the shotgun and Lloyd's crowbar that was leaning in the corner. They had been given knives earlier, but all were left in the living room when they went downstairs to the bar.
“I'm gonna check it out,” announced Lloyd. “On my own. If it's clear, we can go back down and use the amenities we have on the first floor. Someone can be on a watch, and if they see anything we go back to the attic.”
“Are you sure?” said Gordon. “What's the point in putting yourself in danger if we're safe up here?”
“Yes, I'm sure. This is my fucking home.” Lloyd took in a deep breath and looked nervous. “If anything happens to me, you're Junior's guardian.” He pointed at Gordon.
“Dad, I can look after myself.” Junior looked embarrassed that his dad had little faith that the teenager could handle himself.
“No, you can't, man,” Lloyd said bluntly. “You was fucking ten years old before you could wipe your arse properly. This is not a bunch of thugs waiting on you outside to steal your phone or beat you up. You get attacked once by these things, and you're finished.”
“Fuck it,” Gordon stood to his feet. “I'll come with you.”
“No you won't. If anything happens to me, I'll need you here.”
“You'd be better off with another person, at least. Just in case you run into trouble.”
Lloyd opened the hatch and saw that the bedroom was bare. “I'm not gonna discuss it anymore. As soon as my feet touch the floor, get these ladders back up.” He looked over to Sue and gave her a wink. Then his eyes clocked Joan, and pointed at her. “That necklace is still bugging me.”
Joan smiled, and thought that she may as well tell him, considering he was putting his life on the line and may not be back. “Jimmy was my partner's name. We were both in a car crash. He died, but I managed to scrape through. That's how I got the scar on my neck.”
“Mystery solved,” Lloyd began to snicker, and then his face adopted a more serious expression. “I'm sorry.”
“It's okay.” Joan smiled. “It was five years ago.”
“I thought you said you were divorced,” Gordon mumbled.
Joan smiled thinly. “I lied.”
Lloyd went over to Junior and gave him a hug, then kissed him on the forehead. “Time to go.” He reached the floor of the bedroom, and the ladders were quickly pulled up.
With the crowbar being held tightly in both hands, Lloyd Dickinson checked the first room to his left, then the next one. They were both bare, but his nose twitched and knew that they had been in these rooms.
As he progressed further along the hall there was more evidence that the Runners had been in his home. Pictures on the wall were still hanging but were crooked, as if those things had brushed past them.
Lloyd quickly peered into the kitchen and could see blood smears on the right hand side of the wall, and two chairs had been knocked over where the dinner table was. He went over to the knife board and put a few steak knives into his pocket. He left the kitchen, and had only the living room to check before the nerve-wracking prospect of going downstairs to check out the bar and possibly facing the infected.
He popped his head around the door to peer inside the living room, and could also see that it was devoid of life.
It was time to go downstairs.
He crept downstairs, feeling the tips of the blades in his pocket pricking his thigh, and as he gained nearer to the ground floor he could hear growling noises. It appeared that there were some inside and Lloyd was deliberating whether he should wait and see if they'd leave, or go in there and finish them off.
He hung around for a couple of minutes until the snarling ceased, then gulped and was brave enough to open the door ever-so-slightly to peep inside. He could see blood all over the bar's floor and could see an infected Barry crawling along it. Apart from this, the place seemed empty.
It appeared that the shotgun pellets that hit him in the legs had still crippled him now he had turned into, ironically, a Runner.
It seemed that when the Runners smashed their way through the bay windows of the bar, Barry got it straight away.
Lloyd took a step inside and took a slow walk over to the infected Barry, whilst scanning the area around him. Two of the windows had been crashed through and there was a hell of a draught.
The infected Barry clocked Lloyd's appearance and hastily crawled his way across the floor, aching to sink his teeth into him. To make things less messy, Lloyd refrained from pummelling Barry with the crowbar and took out one of the steak knives from his pocket instead.
He quickly moved to the side of the Runner, who ironically couldn't even stand, and placed his foot on the back so the infected Barry couldn't move. He leaned over and rammed the knife into his back, piercing the heart, and Lloyd then pulled out the knife and wiped the blood on the clothes before putting it back into his pocket.
He took another look around and, with a speedy heart rate, he went over to one of the smashed windows. He peered outside and could only see the long main road, hills, and a small fence on the other side of the road.
Nothing else. No Runners. Nothing.
A growl suddenly made Lloyd turn round and he could see a female standing at the other end of the bar. “Where the fuck did you come from?” She began running at him, making his heart giddy up to an alarming speed. With no time to think he swiped at the attacker, but the crowbar slipped out of his clammy hands and made little damage as it hit the thing's arm. As the crowbar clattered to the floor he quickly placed his hand in his pocket to grab a knife, but the snarling female grabbed him by the throat and they fell to the floor. This was the closest he had been near one, and apart from the red eyes and dried blood over her chin, her features were no different to what she was like before she had turned.
She was still human, so there was no rotting or decay of any kind, she just looked like she was insane and full of anger and violence.
Saliva and blood fell from her mouth as she desperately gnashed and snapped at Lloyd
, but he was holding her back with his two hands against her throat. He considered himself a strong man, but this woman, who looked no older than twenty, was giving him a run for his money.
They were both choking one another, but Lloyd had put so much effort into this battle that he seemed to be winning it. The thing eventually passed out and fell off Lloyd, making the man cough and vomit all over his floor.
He shook his head. “And where were you hiding?”
He continued to cough and rubbed his tender throat. He felt for a pulse on the girl and could feel that she still had one. He took out one of the knives from his pocket, placed the blade on her throat, closed his eyes, then dragged the knife across.
He quickly got up, without looking at the carnage he had created, and was now reasonably satisfied that, for now, there was no more Runners.
He knew it'd be pointless boarding up the windows. They would break through them with no problem, and the hammering to put up the boards in the first place would probably attract more of them anyway.
They had two cars in the car park and was certain that taking them would be pointless. Where would they go? And what happens once they had left the Pennines? They would be back in a populated town where the danger would be higher. It appeared the attic was their only option.
With one last scan around, Lloyd trudged up the stairs to the first floor and went into the bedroom where the attic was. He released a sharp whistle and said, “It's me.”
“Is it clear?” he heard Sue cry from behind the hatch.
“It is, but I think we're better off in the attic for now. Drop the ladders.”
Chapter Thirty
Evening was drawing in and the group had eaten and were hydrated. Gordon had been standing on the chair, with the skylight open, and peering outside. It was a blustery day and there were signs of the infected everywhere.
Sometimes Gordon would see a couple on the hills. He had seen a small group of them running away on the main road, heading for the M6. The most unnerving scene was when three of them had jogged past the pub, but thankfully never went inside.
A debate on whether to board up the windows had been discussed, but they had all agreed that it would be pointless to do so.
If they wanted to get in, they would get in. No problem.
The group also discussed the long-term scenario of the situation. Staying in an attic for weeks on end was something that neither one of them wanted to do. So going to the cabin on the island was talked about, which sparked off another angry outburst from Junior. Getting there would be a tad difficult as the rowing boat was tied up on the island where the cabin was. They would have to swim across. There was also dealing with the problem of Mickey Round. He wasn't going to be pleased with the arrival of five other folk, but they were running out of options.
The other option they had was to leave with their vehicles and take the risky journey to another guesthouse or pub a few miles down the road, but running into those things was always a danger.
After much discussion, they had decided to try another night in the attic and decide what to do in the morning.
*
A screech of tyres made Gordon shoot up. Lloyd was the next to wake up and fell off the couch, now waking up Junior. Sue and Joan were next to yawn and groan about the noise, and Gordon grabbed the chair, opened the skylight and looked out into the dark evening.
“What is it?” asked Lloyd.
“About two hundred yards away, to my left,” Gordon began to explain. “I think a car has crashed. I can see headlights.”
“Let's have a look.” Lloyd walked over and stood on the chair, forcing Gordon to jump off.
Lloyd continued to look out and everyone inside could now hear male screams in the distance.
“What the fuck is that?” Joan stood with her hands on her hips.
Nobody gave her an answer. Sue had now wrapped her arms around herself and was rocking back and forth. Junior stared into nothingness. Gordon had his hands on his head, whilst Lloyd continued to gaze out.
“Lloyd, what's going on?” Gordon pressed for an answer.
Lloyd Dickinson dropped his head in his hands and looked at the group. “There's three guys. I think they're running away from those things. The trouble is, I think they'll head for the pub.”
Lloyd was correct with his assumption. Joan jumped on the chair to also look out, and now both her and Lloyd looked with trepidation. The three men ran to Lloyd's establishment, and wasn't sure how to get in until one of them realised that some of the windows were smashed.
“Those men are coming into the pub,” Joan announced to Sue, Gordon and Junior.
“Fuck me with a cactus.” Lloyd's murmurings had forced Joan to quickly peer back outside. They both could see, in the early evening, the men being followed by a group of the Runners. They had no idea how many had followed the men into the pub. Thirty? Maybe forty of them?
The sound of footsteps from inside could be heard straight away and Lloyd moved himself away from the skylight. He shook his head and said to nobody in particular, “They're leading them here.” He pointed at Gordon. “Hold onto the ladders in case they try and pull the cord that hangs down from the hatch.”
“You can't just leave those men to suffer,” Sue spoke up.
“Yes I can,” Lloyd snapped. “And I will. If we open that hatch now they'll all get in.”
They suddenly heard sounds coming from underneath them. They were now in the establishment. They then suddenly heard a man scream out below them, “In here! There's an attic in here!”
It wasn't long before panicky voices filled the place and the hatch began to rattle, but Gordon held on to the ladders. He felt awful that these men were going to be left to be attacked, but Lloyd was right: If the ladders went down now, they'd all be fucked. But could these infected humans remember how to climb?
The hatch continued to rattle as hands below them kept on trying the cord to open it up, and now they could hear screams below them as the Runners tore them to pieces. They could hear hurried feet and growls continuing below, but the screams had stopped.
They assumed that the men had now turned. Joan was teary, praying to a God she hadn't prayed to for a while, whereas Gordon had his fingers crossed.
The hurried footsteps and growling was becoming lower in volume, and the hatch was tried again, forcing out a short scream from Sue.
“They know we're in here,” Sue cried, a little too loudly.
Lloyd flashed Sue an angry stare. “Now they do.”
The hatch continued to rattle and Gordon looked over to Lloyd and shook his head, as if he was telling him that he didn't know how long he could hold the ladders. Lloyd stood in the middle of the room, looking to the floor in deliberation. He could feel the stares coming from the group, impatiently waiting for him to make a decision. He didn't think they were waiting on him because they had adopted him as some kind of leader of the group; it was probably because it was his place.
“We're gonna have to leave,” he announced.
“When?” Joan was the first to ask.
“Right now. While they're still in the pub.”
Gordon could feel his eyes watering. Was this going to be his last night on earth as a normal human being? “They won't give up.”
Lloyd asked, “Do you still have your car keys on you, Joan?”
She nodded.
“Good. I have mine. We'll take both vehicles and try and head to the next pub, about a mile away. So we'll need to turn left when we leave the premises.”
“This is insane,” Sue sobbed.
“So is staying here,” Junior spoke up bravely.
Lloyd pointed up to the opened skylight. “Up to the spine of the roof. I'll meet you all up there. Junior, you go first.”
They left one-by-one, and the two remaining individuals, Gordon and Lloyd, were the last to leave. Lloyd climbed out of the skylight, taking his crowbar with him, and Gordon finally released the ladders and quickly followed Lloyd, leaving
the shotgun with the one cartridge behind.
Lloyd reached the top of the roof to see that everybody had made it without any slip-ups.
“Right.” Lloyd took a look over to see that the car park at the back of the pub was devoid of any Runners. He then passed Junior his crowbar. “I hope nobody suffers from vertigo,” he tried to joke, shivering in the blustery conditions. “Follow my lead and we'll soon be out of here. I hope you've all still got your steak knife each that I gave you earlier.”
Lloyd carefully went to the side of the roof, turned around so he was facing his companions, then slowly slipped down and took a hold of the drainpipe. He slid down, paranoid that there could be some of those things waiting below. He reached the bottom and told Junior to drop him the crowbar. It landed in the grass, and Lloyd picked it up as a nervous Sue was next to slide down the drainpipe.
Once Sue was down, Joan was next and Lloyd kept on looking from side-to-side, expecting them to appear from around one of the corners of the building. It didn't happen, and once the rest were on the ground Lloyd told them to follow him to the car park.
Lloyd pointed at Joan and said, “Take Sue and Gordon in your car. Junior goes with me.”
The jeep was the closest, and as soon as Lloyd and Junior approached the vehicle a noise was heard that stopped everybody in their tracks. All gazed in horror as dozens of Runners poured out of the main door and from behind the building, heading for them with ferocious pace.
In the few seconds they had to think, all knew that they didn't have time to escape in the vehicles. By the time they had got in and started the engine, they'd be attacked. Gordon had witnessed just one of those things head-butt its way through a car in seconds to get to somebody. There was no chance thirty to forty of these things were going to allow two vehicles to leave the premises.
“Fuck it!” snapped Gordon, looking over his shoulder as the Runners were advancing. “To the pond.”
They all followed, but Junior protested pleasingly, “No, dad. Please. No!”
Joan could see they were about eight seconds from being taken down. “We don't have time for this shit!”
The Monsterland Trilogy [Books 1-3] Page 13
