The Monsterland Trilogy [Books 1-3]
Page 14
Lloyd grabbed Junior and headed for the pond.
“Dad!” Junior screamed. “No!”
“What's his pissing problem?” exclaimed Gordon.
“He can't swim!” Lloyd admitted.
*
They all entered the pond and were all waist-deep when the first one attacked. Joan and Gordon began to swim to the island, heading for the cabin. Lloyd brought his crowbar back, when the first Runner ran into the pond after them, and smacked it. It fell into the water and another entered and dived for Sue who was lagging behind. Both went under the water and then they came back up with Sue screaming. Her cheek had been ripped open, then the red-eyed male beast sank its teeth into her neck and ripped out her throat. She fell back into the water and Lloyd went over and rammed his crowbar like a spear through the forehead of the thing. Blood poured out and the creature fell once Lloyd removed the crowbar. He dropped it into the water, and grabbed a frightened Junior who was five yards behind him with the water up to his waist.
“Swim!” yelled Lloyd. “Everybody swim!”
He looked behind him in the dusky area to see that Joan and Gordon were already halfway across the pond. He grabbed a hold of Junior and told him to grab his back once the water reached up to their necks. With a fourteen-year-old kid on his back and wet clothes, the swim for Lloyd Dickinson was going to be a struggle. He was exhausted once he was two thirds across the water and stopped swimming and stood to find that he could touch the floor. Junior was panicking but his father told him to shut the fuck up.
Lloyd told Junior to let go of him and stand, in which he did. Lloyd then looked behind him to see if the Runners had caught them up. He couldn't see anything. He walked, extremely slowly, through the pond as they progressed nearer to the island where the cabin was, with Junior next to him, and could see Joan and Gordon standing up on the island, soaking wet.
The water was now up to Lloyd and Junior's knees when Gordon pointed up ahead. “Lloyd. Take a look.”
Still in the water, Lloyd turned around and could see dozens of the infected by the water's edge, reluctant to go in and chase the survivors. They were growling with anger, and Lloyd could see seven bodies floating in the centre of the pond.
Although Lloyd was relieved at what he could see, he was baffled and shook his head. “What the fuck happened?”
By the time Lloyd and Junior had walked their soaked bodies out of the pond, Gordon began to explain. “They went in after us, but some of them drowned once it got too deep. Others, who were in shallow water, went back to the edge. They seemed to be learning.”
“They must have forgotten how to swim.” Lloyd scratched his head.
“I've no pissing idea,” said Gordon. “We know they can die like the rest of us because they're still human, but some skills they seemed to have forgot. They can certainly run, but swimming? Climbing?”
Joan pointed at the bodies that could be seen floating in the pond. “Unfortunately, one of them is Sue. I saw her throat getting torn out.”
“Me too,” said Lloyd,
“Poor Sue, “ whispered Gordon.
Lloyd and Joan nodded in agreement, in unison, and looked at one another with sadness in their faces. Gordon and Joan held hands; they stood in shock on the small island with their soaked frames. Junior and Lloyd stood next to them, looking at the carnage of the bodies floating in the water, then turning their attention to the dozens of Runners on the other side of the pond, not far from Lloyd's pub, aching to rip them apart, but were reluctant after seeing some of their own drowning whilst trying to cross the water.
“Now what, dad?” Junior asked with a shudder in his voice.
“I don't know, son.” Lloyd shivered, as the wet clothes were making them all tremble with the cold. “But a blanket would be nice right now.”
“This has to be the weirdest fucking couple of days I've ever had,” Gordon spoke.
Lloyd guffawed, “There's probably a few thousand people have said the same thing.”
“Where to now?” asked Joan, and pointed over to the cabin. “There?”
Lloyd looked around the circular tiny island that was no bigger than a football pitch. Apart from the cabin, there was a shed and a few bushes and trees. That was it. It was a strange place to live. Lloyd nodded, finally responding to Joan's query. “Well, there's nowhere else to go.”
“And what if this ... Mickey Round doesn't take us in?”
“He will.”
Gordon queried with suspicion, “But what if he doesn't?”
“Then we'll kill him,” Lloyd said bluntly, and looked around for a reaction. He looked at Joan and Gordon and announced, “Although this has been forced upon us, we're a team now. We stick together. Agreed?”
They both nodded and never responded verbally.
Lloyd shook with the cold and placed his arm around his son. “Okay, son?”
Junior slowly tilted his head to the side and rested it on his dad's shoulder. Junior shook his head, shivering, and sniffed, “Not really.”
“We will be.”
“Are you sure about that?” Joan asked from behind.
Lloyd nodded, and pulled Junior closer to him as they both stared at the monsters at the other side of the pond.
“Let's get to that shack,” said Gordon, pointing to the place behind him. “I'm cold.”
They all looked at one another, turned their backs on the pond, and headed for the cabin.
Chapter Thirty One
Marvin, fuelled with paranoia, walked along the road with more brisk steps now that the evening was drawing in. The sky was murky, the day was coming to a close, and the last thing he needed was to be stuck out in the Pennines in the dark—not with those things out there.
He shivered a little as the cold wind slapped his frame, then began to jog. He knew the name of the place where he wanted to go—thanks to a bit of stalking on Facebook from months ago, but he was unsure where it was. He could have Googled the Pennines and found out how far away he was from the place, but grabbing his phone never crossed his mind when he left, which was just as well as the phone was still sitting on his bedroom floor, covered in his vomit.
He looked up the steep road that he needed to walk up and shook his head with anger. He was exhausted as it was, and this was the last thing he needed. He puffed out a breath and attempted the hill with the tyre iron still in his right hand. Once he got to the peak he rested for a minute and was bent over, panting, with his hands on his knees.
He straightened his back and smiled when he saw that the next two hundred yards was downhill. He didn't have time to take in the breathtaking scenery, and began making his descent, but stopped after making just a few steps.
For the first time since he had been on the Pennines, Marvin saw some Runners—at least he thought they were. He could see to his left about half a dozen of the things sprinting away over a hill in the distance.
Where the hell were they going? Had they spotted something?
He then turned slightly to his right, down the hill, and could see a white building. It looked like a pub.
“Please be it,” he gasped. “Please be the place.”
A smile stretched across his face, but his excitement was ruined by witnessing two figures emerging out of the area, where the building was, and were both now on the road. They didn't follow the others across the hill; one of them stopped, making the other stop, and both twisted their necks and began gaping up at the forty-eight-year-old.
Marvin gulped and could feel his body shake. “Go on,” he muttered under his breath, tightly gripping the tyre iron. “Keep on walking, you fuckers.”
Collectively, the two beings from a distance began to run in Marvin's direction, giving him a dull feeling in his stomach. His breath became shallow and his heart speeded up, making his temporal pulse hammer underneath the skin.
“It's just two people,” he said, trying to calm his nerves. “Okay, they're a bit fast, and if they manage to bite me, I'm fucked. But it's just tw
o people. And I've got this.” He gripped the tyre iron, waiting for them to reach him.
There was no point in running.
If he ran, they'd only run after him, and would more-than-likely catch him up. Then he would have to put them down whilst exhausted from the run, with his energy depleted. No! It made more sense, and he stood a better chance, to stand his ground and wait for them to come.
They were thirty yards away and increasing their pace. The two of them were like Linford Christie on speed, and Marvin was pretty certain that these individuals weren't this quick before they were infected, so why were they so quick now?
Twenty yards away.
He could now see that both of the infected were females, both blonde, and were dressed in attire to suggest that before they became infected they had been out jogging.
But how did they come out this far?
This was The Pennines. Practically the middle of nowhere.
Thankfully, they never reached Marvin at the same time—one was behind the other which made it slightly easier for the man.
He brought the steel back and struck out at the first one with everything he had. It went down straight away, giving him ample time to remove the second one.
The second individual was struck at the side of its head and, unlike the first one, it still moved across the ground. It tried to get up, but Marvin snarled and whacked it twice more on the skull. It bled out across the tarmac, its cracked head revealing some brain tissue as it lay. Marvin was unmoved by this and turned his attention back to the first Runner.
It was strange.
He had smacked it with a blunt instrument, yet there was no blood. Maybe it was just out cold. Or maybe he had broken its neck.
He wasn't taking any chances, so he placed the bloody tyre iron on the floor, bent down, and took the knife out of the pocket of his blue jeans. Remembering that these things—people?—were still human, he felt for a pulse at the side of her neck. There was one, and it was beating at an incredible pace. He must have just knocked the thing out.
He grabbed his knife, pulled the blonde hair back and dragged the knife across the young woman's throat. He stood up and made a quick step backward as the blood poured out quicker than he'd imagined, then he picked up the tyre iron and walked away. He was now heading for the white building. It was The White Horse pub/restaurant.
With the knife in his pocket, he made the short journey to The White Horse establishment. He could see that some windows at the front had been smashed, and he guessed correctly that it wasn't an act of vandalism that cause this. It was them!
He looked inside the bar area. There were a few bodies in there. Three to be exact.
He went around the back and could see trees at the back of the car park, and a few vehicles were present. There were people inside, he thought. There must be.
He tried the main door. It opened with ease and he knew straight away that something was up. He didn't want to call out in case some of the Runners were inside, so he opted to creep around the first floor of the pub and check it out. The kitchen and living room was bare, but looked to have been recently lived in, going by what he could see.
He checked the toilet and some of the bedrooms, and found nothing. He had one more room to check, and pushed the main bedroom door open. He looked around and pulled the cord to, what he thought was, the attic, then the ladders slowly came down. He assumed it was an attic—he had never been to this place before and only had seen it on Facebook.
He tentatively walked to the bottom of the ladders and looked up to the opened hatch. He climbed up, still grasping the tyre iron and feeling the knife in his pocket pricking his thigh as he climbed, and took a quick peep inside to see it had been lived in, and the opened skylight highlighted that the people had fled from the building by going over the roof. So where were they?
“Where the fuck are you?” he whispered to himself. “Where are you?”
There was going to be no answer to his question for now, and the middle-aged man shook his head in confusion. He went back down the ladders and looked out one of the bedroom's window. At the back of the car park were a cluster of trees. It was hard to see what was behind them. Then his eyes scrunched in confusion as a faint noise could be heard. It sounded like ... planes.
His eyes scanned the skies and two planes—almost too quick for his eyes—roared past overhead. He smiled, but that smile was soon lost once he saw a horde of Runners coming out of the trees that were situated at the back of the car park.
He began to panic. “What the fuck?”
He gazed in horror, fully expecting them to run at the building. Maybe some had seen him whilst he was looking out the bedroom window. All of them ran to the side of the building, making Marvin leave the bedroom hastily and heading to the living room window which looked out at the front.
He peered out and saw them all running away from The White Horse, over the country road, and now making their way over the hills. It seemed that these things could be easily distracted, and Marvin released a short laugh at their stupidity. He continued to watch them and turned away once they were almost out of sight.
He then looked around the living room and looked at the mugs that were sitting there.
“Great idea.” Marvin clapped his hands together. “I could murder a mug of tea.”
He went into the kitchen and put the kettle on, popped a tea bag in a mug, and took another gander outside from the kitchen window whilst he waited for the kettle to boil.
“Where are you, Lloyd?” Marvin scratched at his grey hair, bewildered that the place was vacant, and asked no one in particular, “What's happened to you?”
Marvin could see the day wasn't far away from ending, and knew that the attic was going to be the place where he was going to sleep on this particular night. He had no other option.
Once he made his tea, he took a short trip to the toilet, then took his mug and headed for the attic.
Chapter Thirty Two
Soaked to the skin, Joan, Gordon, Lloyd and Junior walked the fifty yards to the cabin in hope that the only person living on the small island would allow them to stay for a while.
If he didn't? They were going to stay anyway.
Lloyd had already made his mind up that if Mickey Round didn't give them permission to stay, Lloyd was going to stay regardless, and would do whatever he needed to do to make that happen. Even if he had to kill the old man.
Lloyd led the way as they silently trudged their wet, shivering bodies to the main door—the only door—of the cabin. Lloyd turned to face Joan, Gordon, then Junior. He then peeped over to see the Runners still at the water's edge, growling and gnashing, but reluctant to cross and even go in at knee-depth after what had happened to some of their companions from before.
He then looked at the tied up rowing boat on his side of the water. Maybe one day they'll need it. He then looked to his left. To his left was the Runners and The White Horse pub in the background. To his right was a place he had never been to before. It was a mass of trees, a forest, and the sight of it alone made his frame shudder.
Lloyd smiled thinly at Junior and put his arm around his only child. Said Lloyd in a whisper, “If this guy refuses to let us in, then we still take it.”
Gordon shivered, “We can't do that.”
Joan snapped, “Yes we fucking can, and we will.”
“If we don't,” Lloyd nodded over back to the pond where the infected were waiting for them, “then freezing out here or going back out there is the only three options we have left.”
Joan corrected, “Two options. Well?” Joan glared at Gordon for a response.
“I don't know,” said Gordon. “It seems wrong.”
Joan moaned, “We've been through a lot of shit in such a short space of time, and managed to come through it, unlike the Hortons, that James fellow, Stripy John and now Sue.”
Gordon was saddened when she mentioned Sue's name.
Joan continued, “I'm not giving up now.”
“We'll just have to ride it out, man,” Lloyd chipped in, “and hope the old man has got some food to keep us going for a couple of days. If they somehow learn how to swim, we're gonna have to drag that boat across this small island and travel that way,” he pointed at the water where the forest was, “but I don't want to do that.”
“Even if they go, you can't go back and stay at the pub,” Joan said, shaking her head at Lloyd.
“No I can't.” He nodded his head in agreement. “But I'm not gonna venture any further until I've made one last trip to the place. The cellar has food and drink that I didn't tell you about. It'd be insane to leave it and go elsewhere with no supplies.”
“Right, guys.” Gordon pointed at the door to the cabin and added, “Shall we knock? I don't know about you, but I'm freezing my balls off here.”
Lloyd turned and knocked the door. All four shivered as their clothes dripped, and waited as patiently as they could for the door to open. Lloyd sighed and knocked again. “If there's no answer by the third knock, I'm going in regardless.”
Nobody responded.
There was still no answer and Lloyd knocked once more with more ferociousness, and placed his hand on the doorknob, ready to try it. He twisted the knob and gave the door a gentle push. He was surprised to see it open and gaped at his son, Joan, and Gordon in surprise.
Lloyd took a hesitant step inside and said 'hello' a couple of times to alert the owner that he now had company. Once they were all inside, Lloyd shut the door, immediately putting the place into darkness. Lloyd opened the door again to provide some kind of light and could see the cabin was as basic as it could be. It was one big room. It had a sink, a gas cooker, an old couch and a mattress in the corner of the place where the old man obviously slept, but there was no old man.
Lloyd went through a few of the drawers. The first drawer had dozens of candles, and he smiled when he found a lighter in the next drawer. He then walked around the room and began to light the four stumpy candles that were already scattered around the place. The place soon lit up once the four flames began to dance.