“You don't really lose your life when you're infected,” Junior spoke timidly. “You just ... change.”
“Tell that to Sue,” Gordon snapped. “She had her throat torn out. She never had a chance to change. Personally, I'd rather be dead anyway.”
Marvin agreed. “Me too.”
Lloyd began to explain what he had planned. “We'll drag the boat across the other side of this island.” He paused, cleared his throat and continued, “Then we'll row everybody across the pond and into the woods. I'll come back here, on my own. The boat needs to be as light as possible. Then I'll start and fill it with what we've taken from the pub that's now in the cabin. It may take three or four journeys.”
“I think it's a crazy idea.” Joan wasn't so sure of Lloyd's plan. It had only been a couple of days into this madness and she was moving again. First, the Horton's guesthouse, the pub, the cabin, and now the woods.
“I suppose,” Lloyd flashed Joan a disparaging glare, “we can stay here and dither and wait for them to rip us apart while we sleep.”
Marvin released a smirk and said, “When you put it like that, the woods does seem a better option.”
“Do you think you'll get us all in the boat?” Gordon asked. “Do you think it'll take our weight?”
Lloyd hunched his shoulders. “I don't know, man. Only one way to find out.”
Chapter Five
This had been the fourth day that twenty-eight-year-old Kelly Bronson had stayed in the woods, and it wasn't getting any easier. It seemed ages since that day she was travelling down to Manchester, to find the motorway grid-locked. The traffic hadn't moved for twenty five minutes and she had to go to the side of the motorway for a pee. She couldn't do what the infants were doing, peeing on the grass with their parents beside them, near the hard shoulder. She was an adult and had to take a walk into the woodland and hoped that the traffic didn't move whilst she was away.
She was aware that drivers had seen her walking away, knowing that she was going to the toilet, but she didn't care. Her bladder was bursting and she was in a significant amount of pain.
Once it was time to leave the woodland, after she had wiped herself with a wet wipe, she then heard screaming coming from the motorway. She hesitantly walked through the trees, to the edge of the area and near the hard shoulder, and saw people being attacked by other individuals. She stood in shock. She had seen a film like this once, and it took a while for her brain to register what was going on. As soon as she saw the fallen then get up, she knew that an infection or virus was being passed and was making these things ... psychotic? She didn't know.
The people that were attacked were on the floor for no longer than a minute, before getting back to their feet and seeking out fresh meat.
For the little time that she had spent watching this horror unfold, she was aware that the people that were being attacked weren't getting eaten as such. Some took a few bites to their body, but because the infection, or whatever the hell it was, was spreading so quickly, the attackers wanted another victim. It was as if that once the infection flowed through the veins of the injured party, their attacker was unable to continue eating. These were not zombies, they were too quick to be zombies. They weren't vampires either. They were...
She had no fucking clue!
Kelly wasn't weak. She was a strong female, but even this had pushed her over the edge. She had burst into tears and decided to flee the motorway, heading into the woods. She ran and ran until she was exhausted, paranoid that the infected, or whatever they were, caught up with her. She wasn't sure that any had spotted her, watching from the edge of the woods, but paranoia pumped the adrenaline through her veins and she began running like Bolt on speed.
She finally stopped when stitch forced her to, and doubled over with the pain. She managed to walk through the thick woods for a few minutes more, but her progression was halted when she was faced with a massive hurdle if she wanted to continue further, in the same direction.
She was next to a large pond. A tiny island was in the middle of it; a shack could be seen on it, and even if she wanted to get over there, it was too far to swim. And too cold. I'd die of pneumonia, she thought.
The only other option she had was west or north. It was too dangerous to go back to the motorway. She had decided to stay near the pond. In desperation, she ate leaves and nibbled on a few berries. She even drank some of the pond water, but threw up a few minutes later.
*
Kelly Bronson had been awake for nearly an hour and had spent her time thinking about her family and crying. The only positive out of this mess was that she had no children. If she had, she'd be demented.
She stood to her feet, stretched out her arms and yawned. Her mouth was dry, but she didn't want to sample any more of the pond water. She had to move. She had to try and find a place to stay. She was starving, but she needed water more urgently.
She began to drag her feet through the bracken. The woods were suffocating. Even though it wasn't a blistering day, being in this environment was like being in a greenhouse. She stopped walking and began rubbing the temples of her head. She was dehydrated and wasn't sure she could make a mile in these woods.
Behind her, she heard a faint noise. It sounded like... She wasn't sure. Gentle splashing? The pond behind her, that wasn't visible anymore because she was twenty yards into the woods, sounded like it was being disturbed. But with what?
Her intrigue had got the better of her and she began to go back on herself, now walking to the very same spot where she had slept for a few nights. She approached the pond and could see a boat in the distance.
It was a rowing boat. It was heading towards her.
She decided to hide.
Chapter Six
As soon as the boat reached the water's edge, the group looked at what was in front of them. A wall of trees. There was a mixture. Ash, Birch, Elms and Oak, to name a few, and all knew that if there were any Runners in this environment then there'd be no place to run. Marvin, Joan and Junior were carrying knives in their pockets. Gordon had given his knife to Junior, but he kept the claw hammer for himself, and Lloyd brought along the crowbar from the cabin. If the Runners decided to show, then a battle would ensue. There'd be no other option. There'd be no time to flee in the boat.
All five got out of the wooden thing, trying not to wet their feet, and had a look around at the surroundings. Lloyd and Junior had always wondered what it'd be like to be in this part of the area, and now they were here, but under circumstances that the pair of them could never have envisaged.
Lloyd took a few steps into the woods and had a quick scan around. The woods were condensed, but the trees provided sufficient gaps to see for many yards ahead. There was no sign of danger as far as Lloyd's eyes were concerned.
“What do you think?” Joan asked Lloyd.
“What do I think?” Lloyd placed his hands on his hips and began to laugh. “I think I'm in the middle of a dream and hoping that I wake up any second now. I want to be in my bed, still running a business, and I'd be happy to never see your faces again,” he cackled and looked over to Marvin. “That includes you, big bro. That's what I think.”
Gordon, Joan, Marvin and Junior glared at Lloyd, wondering if he was losing the plot.
Noticing their glare, Lloyd rubbed his head and released a heavy sigh. “It seems reasonably okay. We can stay here for a while.”
“Is that wise?” Marvin asked.
“I think the longer we sit it out,” Gordon began, “the more chance that the situation will be taken under control.”
“By who?” Joan looked confused.
“The government.”
“I think that's wishful thinking,” guffawed Joan.
“Nothing wrong with a bit of hope.”
“Look, man,” Lloyd began, before an argument with Gordon and Joan began to develop, “I'm going to head back and get the supplies. It may take a few trips, but there's a lot there. The distance from here to the island is further
than the pub to the island. I'll bring back the rucksacks that we saw at the cabin as well. I think there were two. We can't carry the food and drink in just two bags, and I'm certainly not leaving it behind.”
“So what do you suggest?” Joan asked.
“We stay here, eat and get our fill. Then once the supplies begin to dwindle and we only have enough for the two bags ... then we can start moving on foot, sometime this afternoon. I'm not staying the night in the woods. We can try and find a place.”
“That sounds like...” Gordon paused.
“Sounds like what?”
Gordon finished his sentence. “A good idea.”
“Right.” Lloyd went over to Junior and gave him a hug, but the youngster didn't respond back, “That's me away, guys.” Lloyd turned to Marvin and Gordon. “Give me a push out into the pond.”
Both men nodded and Joan joked, “I'll stay here. I don't wanna be messing my hair up.”
“Good thinking,” Lloyd quipped back.
Joan playfully gave him the finger. If it was Marvin that had said that, it would have angered her.
Lloyd climbed into the boat and waited for his big brother and Gordon to push him away. As soon as this was done he began to row, heading back to the cabin, back to where the supplies were kept.
Lloyd was on autopilot as he rowed towards his destination, and glared at the four people that stood watching him.
Finally, there was a response from Junior. His son slowly lifted his hand and gave Lloyd a wave, forcing a lump in his throat. He was certain that Junior wasn't happy that he was making the trip, but needs must.
He gazed at Gordon and Joan as the boat was now twenty yards away. He smiled. He liked the pair of them.
Marvin?
He was his brother. He was a despicable character with a history of misdemeanours, but what should he have done? Should he have left the man at the pond yesterday? He only would have swam across anyway. Marvin was a bastard, but Lloyd could not escape that he was his flesh and blood. Marvin wasn't to be trusted, and Lloyd was certain that even with this new world developing, his brother hadn't changed one iota.
He was still a selfish bastard; still an individual that would push his own mum into a horde of those things if it meant saving himself. He was still Marvin.
Chapter Seven
All stood around and looked at one another, unsure what to do next. Gordon was the first to react and sat down. Marvin and Junior remained on their feet as Joan sat next to Gordon. The two of them began to converse and talk about the last few days. They talked about the attack on the guesthouse, Stripy John killing himself and finding Lloyd's place. It had been a mad few days.
Marvin and Junior stood at the edge of the pond, the water almost licking their shoes, and could now see the boat reaching the small island. Junior shaded his eyes, as the sun began to burn down, and could see his father getting out of the boat.
Fourteen-year-old Junior Dickinson began to bite his nails. On seeing this, Marvin smiled at the youngster that he never got to see grow up. He was about to ruffle the young boy's dark hair, to tell him that his father would be okay, but refrained from doing so.
“You worried about your old man?” Marvin asked. It was a daft query, but it was his way of breaking the silence.
“Yeah ... I suppose.” Junior shrugged his shoulders, trying to act confident.
“He'll be fine. He's a Dickinson.”
Junior looked at Marvin with disdain and said, “And what does that mean? He's a Dickinson?”
“He's tough. He's a fighter.” Marvin was struggling. He turned and spat on the floor. He felt agitated and was dying for a cigarette.
“All people say that about their families, and what do you know?” Junior's voice was raised, forcing Gordon and Joan to break their own conversation and both turned to see what was going on. “You don't even know him. When was the last time you saw your brother?”
Marvin smiled. “It's complicated.”
“Complicated,” scoffed Junior.
“Maybe when you become an adult,” Marvin began, snarling with rage, “and you've got some hair on your balls and begin to fuck a woman or two, then you'll understand that it's a different world being an adult.”
“You're an idiot.”
Marvin clenched his fists and took a step forward in Junior's space.
“Oh, you're such a big man,” Joan began to snicker, “threatening a fourteen-year-old boy, your own nephew.”
“Stay out of this, slag!” snapped Marvin, now turning away from Junior and glaring at the sitting Joan.
Normally Joan Burnley would be angered by such a remark, but she could see that Marvin was getting wound up and was enjoying it.
“Slag?” she continued to laugh. “You don't even know me.”
Gordon leaned over to Joan and whispered, “You're not helping, Joan.”
Marvin turned back to Junior, but found that he wasn't there anymore. He had moved and stood a couple of yards down, dropping the hint that he wanted to be on his own and wait for his dad to come back.
“Fuck this!” Marvin sniffed and turned on his heels and headed into the woods.
“Where're you going?” Gordon slowly got to his feet.
“I'm gonna go for a piss, if that's alright with you lot.” Marvin then gazed at Joan and said, “Why don't you come and give me a hand? Maybe I'll even let you lick the droplets of piss off my bell end.”
Joan's face was free of any expression, and said coldly, “You really are a vile little man, aren't you?”
“I'll take that as a no then.” He strolled away, whistling the theme tune to a song.
“Keep the noise down,” Gordon whispered to Marvin.
“Don't tell him to do that,” Joan spoke softly. “He's the kind of idiot to do the opposite, even with what's happening now.”
Gordon shook his head. “Why's he like that?”
“In life you get good guys,” Joan explained, then pointed at Marvin's back as he was walking away, “but you also get cunts, like Marvin.”
Chapter Eight
Marvin Dickinson finally stopped walking and chose a tree to piss up against. He screwed his face as he got out his cock. He then laughed as he began pissing. It had smelt a lot worse.
He remembered one time, years ago, he hadn't washed his penis in five days. When he pulled his foreskin back it was covered in smegma and itchy as fuck. The hilarious thing was that he got a surprise visitor knocking at his door. It was Angie Davids. His occasional fuck buddy from the flat upstairs. She came round because her partner had gone to the shops.
Angie was a heavy woman, had a lack of confidence, and had no idea why she was obsessed with Marvin. Before, during and especially after sex he would call her names like 'salad dodger' and 'fat fuck'. It was a weird and perverse thing they had going, but Angie kept going back for more.
Despite the state of his penis, and the fact that it smelt like a fish market, she gave him a quick blowjob, swallowing everything, licking his bell end clean and not even making a remark about the state it was in. Marvin cackled as he reminisced, his pee now coming to an end. Dirty bitch.
He zipped himself back up, then began to head back to the group, back to the pond, but his steps were few. As soon as a snapping noise was heard, he paused and slowly turned his frame around.
“What the fuck was that?” he muttered. “I hope that was a fucking deer.”
He pulled out his knife from the back of his pocket, scared to move, hoping that it wasn't a Runner. He opened his mouth, unsure whether to call out or not. He decided not to. He turned to make his way back to Joan, Gordon and Junior, but another noise made him stop. It was a cough.
Marvin smiled, knowing that whatever was hiding, was a non-infected human.
He gazed into the woodland, but couldn't see a sign of a person anywhere. He then began to look upwards. Maybe they were hiding in the trees. But the noise, both noises, sounded like they came from ground level.
“Hello.” He
decided to bite the bullet and call out. “Come out. Let me see you.”
Nothing.
“I'm with a few people,” he continued. “We've just arrived. Had to flee from ... them.”
Still nothing.
Marvin released a heavy breath out. “You know what? I'm going back to the pond. Come and see us when you've overcome your shyness.”
Marvin walked away, this time slowly on purpose, giving the individual plenty of time to call out, if need be. It worked.
“Wait!” a female voice called out.
Marvin stopped and a creepy smile developed on his features. He turned and saw a pretty young woman that had been hiding behind a bush, no older than thirty. She was five-five, a lot shorter than Marvin, had short red hair and striking blue eyes. She was wearing white trainers, blue jeans and had on a white T-shirt with no logo. Marvin checked the woman out, making her feel uncomfortable, and could see that she was also wearing a black fleece over her shirt, but it was the nipples that protruded through her shirt that made him lick his lips. It was obvious that this big busted woman had no bra on and Marvin was beginning to get turned on, despite the situation they were in.
Seeing the way he was looking at her, the woman sighed and said, “You know what? Forget it. I'll keep walking alone.”
“Wait!” Marvin took a few strides towards the woman. He could see she had no bag with her, and he was sure that she didn't even have a weapon. He added, “You're safer in numbers. Tell me your name.”
She looked him up and down, now wondering if his group were a bunch of males. Maybe things could get a whole lot worse for her. A bad feeling was growing within her and she said, “Forget it. I'm off.”
Marvin reached for her arm and pulled her against him. “I'm doing this for your own good,” he snarled. “If you don't stick with us, you'll die. We have supplies.”
She pulled away from the middle-aged man once she could feel his erection pressing up against her, but he went to grab her once again. She moved to the side and palmed him at the side of his face, then grabbed his arm and put him under a thumb and wrist lock. He cried out once she squeezed, and gasped when she could see three figures running through the trees, towards her. She released Marvin once Joan, Gordon and Junior turned up, and a smile emerged on Joan's face when she could see Marvin on his knees, wincing with discomfort.
The Monsterland Trilogy [Books 1-3] Page 18
