by Aline Riva
“I don't have a weapon! My gun is out of bullets!”
“We can't go back,” Hayley reminded him, “This place is crawling with corpses.”
“I'll cover you.”
He glanced to Marc, his expression conveying silent thanks.
“We need to go back the way we came in,” Hayley added, passing Greg the holdall filled with medical supplies, “Then we go to the main corridor and leave by the front entrance -”
“But those creatures!” Amy exclaimed.
“Listen,” Emma said as another burst of heavy machine gun fire was heard, “Zackary's men are taking them out. We have a real chance now.”
“A chance to get shot!” Greg replied as Hayley unlocked the door.
The corridor beyond was clear, they made their way to the stairway and then went down, the door was still locked and they hesitated as they reached it, listening, but the sounds of the undead were still far beyond. From outside the entrance, another burst of gunfire sounded, then muffled voices and footsteps were heard as the gunmen ran past.
“How many?” wondered Hayley.
“Maybe three...” Marc estimated.
From the far end of the corridor, louder moans and snarls could be heard as the creatures that had flooded the canteen crashed against the door, but the locks held firmly in place. As Greg hurried off to his former room, Marc stared after him.
“You mad bastard, no...” he said, as the others looked at him in confusion.
It was Emma who guessed first, her eyes widening in alarm as she realised what he had gone back for.
“No...he wouldn't?”
“He would!” Marc confirmed just as Greg came out of the room, wheeling the suit case behind him.
“I can only manage one with the holdall as well,” he said as he looked back at the others, “But we need this insurance.”
Marc shook his head.
“You think those creatures might want to trade, then? The drugs for our lives?” he asked sarcastically.
“No, but Zackary's men will if we don't wipe them out,” he replied, “I'm trying to help, can everyone understand that?”
He was met with a mix of blank expressions and looks of disbelief. Hayley listened close to the door and then gestured to Greg, who joined her with his loaded gun ready.
“I want you to lead everyone on the route that takes the short cut to the lowest platform,”she said, “From there, I don't know...if there's a boat we may have to swim for it.”
Alarm registered on Marc's face as he thought of the deep water.
“I'm up for that,” Greg replied, “It's the height of summer, the cold water won't kill us... There's life jackets in a room near this block...maybe one of us could fetch them?”
“Yeah right, we'll just go out there and hang out with the corpses and the guys with machine guns, shall we?” said Emma, shooting him a look of utter despair.
“We can try for it,” Hayley replied, “There's a storage room and it's one of the places we keep life jackets. They're kept all over the rig, with easy access too, that door isn't locked.”
“I'll go,”Amy said, “Just tell me when.”
“I'll cover you,” Marc replied.
Then Hayley opened up the door quietly, pausing to peer through the crack before pushing it wide. Far off up the other end of the rig a scream filled the air followed by a strangled cry for help. Shots were fired off, then more shots, then shrieks and moans of the undead were heard as the gunman fired again, killing off more undead that emerged from the shadows as a second volley of shots rang out from above on another level.
“I think we had three shooters,” Marc said to the others, “One just got taken out... that leave two. But they have machine guns. We have to do this fast. Greg, lead the way down to the lowest level and wait there. If there's a boat, don't let them see you. I'm going to cover Amy, she's fetching the life jackets.”
Marc stepped out first, looked left and right and gestured with his gun. Amy ran for the storage room and wrenched open the door and went inside, hitting the floor hard as she fell to her knees to be sure she was not seen by the lurking gunmen, and began to grab life jackets.
Greg looked to the walkway that led to the next level. It was littered with fallen corpses, some still twitching and writhing, but the path was clear enough to take the short route to the lowest level.
“Go!” Marc said, switching attention from Amy, who was gathering the life belts, to the area between the shooters that looked clear save for the piles of corpses.
“And leave that bloody case behind!” Marc added.
“Can't do that, mate, it's insurance!”
Greg hurried out, carrying the case and the holdall, ducking for cover and running for the shadowy walkway that led downward as the others followed, Vicki darting out quickly, followed by Emma, then they were gone into the shadows. Marc turned to Hayley, who stood beside him with the flare gun in her hand.
“You should go.”
“I'll wait for you, “ she told him, casting a gaze about the rig, noticing the oil was everywhere thanks to the undead. A plan was forming in her mind, a single last desperate attempt to try and save the others if she could not save herself, if the worst happened and they were still outnumbered... The cries of the dead could still be heard ghostly about the rig, the shooters had taken out many on the platform, but others were emerging from the shadows... More gunfire sounded, then a cry echoed about the platform as a lurking creature claimed another of the gunmen.
“I've got them!” Amy said, emerging from the storage room, she was already wearing a life jacket and had brought five more outside. Hayley went over and picked them up, then made a run for the walkway, as Amy followed and Marc took up the rear. Suddenly a volley of shots rang out and Amy slammed hard against the metal walkway, rolling face to face with a corpse as she screamed. She was clutching at her leg, it was bleeding and the flesh was gaping open where a bullet had ripped right through. Marc had ducked and rolled, as he returned fire another volley of shots headed his way and he waited, as Hayley struggled with the life jackets and the flare gun and the wounded girl leant against her as they made their way into the shadows and away from the line of fire.
As more bullets flew, Marc dived for the shadows, only to hear running footsteps. He stepped out, taking aim as he held on to his only hope that the shooter would not fire again until he saw movement. He pulled the trigger twice, two bullets punched through the air and slammed into the chest of the shooter, sending him flying on to his back and landing hard on the metal flooring. Marc holstered his gun and ran over to the body, snatching up the machine gun. Then he turned back, determination burning in his dark eyes as he dashed down the route to the lower level, weaving past corpses and oil and a trail of blood dripped from Amy's wound.
As Marc reached the shadow of the lower level of the platform, he saw the others crouching low behind the barrier and ducked down. Amy was clutching at her leg and blood was pumping from the wound as Greg kept his hand over her mouth and whispered to her to stay quiet. She nodded as tears ran down her face.
“How many?” Marc said in a low voice.
“One guy on the boat,” Greg replied, “He's armed.”
Marc took a breath, stood up to his full height, saw the guy down below on the boat and let rip a stream of bullets. The brief spray peppered the body, flinging it backwards with force as the gun clattered to the deck and the dead man fell overboard.
“We're clear!” he announced.
Then as the others got up and Amy leant on Greg and gave a cry of pain, the frenzy in the water below distracted them all as they looked down in horror: The corpse in the water was being torn apart. The water below the rig was full of undead...A red cloud spread from the bloody remains as they feasted. Marc took aim and peppered the water with a spray of machine gun fire, then as more began to move from beneath the surface, climbing over the floating bodies, he fired again.
Hayley began to hand out life jackets.
<
br /> “Quickly,” she said, “Put these on...I have an idea.. we don't have to use the ladder. There's a platform right below us for bringing up cargo. I can operate it... if everyone gets on, it's a short swim to the boat.”
Greg had put on his life belt, so had Vicki, and Marc was now putting on his as Emma stood there ready, looking to the platform.
“We can fire into the water,” she said, “Each one of us can take a turn...”
“I'll go last,“ Hayley offered, “Give the gun to me – I can keep you all covered.”
Marc looked to the boat, there was another weapon on board. Her passage across would be as safe as it could be for the rest of them. He nodded.
“Good plan,” he agreed, then he watched as she turned to the wall and opened up a metal panel and switched on the platform below, and it began to rise. As soon as it was up, Marc climbed over first, helping Amy and then Emma, and then Vicki hesitated, looking from the platform to the deep water below.
“Hurry up!” Greg said impatiently.
“Promise me I won't drown?”
He placed his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes as he spoke firmly.
“You will not drown. I am a diver, I have years of experience. If you get in trouble I'll help you, now get over that barrier!”
Vicki heard her wounded sister call her name and she nodded, then stepped over the barrier and on to the platform. Greg lowered down the medical bag, then hauled the suitcase over the edge.
“What the fuck...” muttered Marc, looking in disgust to the case set down beside him as anger burned in his eyes. Greg was climbing over the barrier now. Marc flipped the catch on the case, then aimed a solid kick.
“NO!” Greg yelled in horror, his voice echoing about the hollow underside of the rig up above as the case split open and with a second kick, the case and the packets of white powered spilled out into the sea and began to drift and sink.
“What did you that for? That was my insurance, you prick!” he wailed as tears of anger and frustration filled his eyes.
“You had no chance of getting that case over to the boat!” Marc said, indicating to the fishing boat that bobbed on the waves a short distance away, then as Greg protested again Marc looked up at Hayley.
“We're ready!”
The platform began to lower. It went down and down, sliding slowly and smoothly towards the North Sea waters, stopping a short distance from the calm tide. Bodies bobbed nearby, then more began to surface and draw near as the tide pulled them closer.
“Watch out below!” Hayley yelled, and let off a burst of fire.
Bullets hit the water making it dance as corpses jerked and twitched. The movement of the sea made it hard to figure how many more were down there, but for now, the pathway was clear... Marc tossed the medical supplies over to the boat and the holdall landed with a thump on the deck.
“I'll go first,” he said, “Amy, you're coming with me.”
Then he scanned the water for movement, saw none and slid off the edge of the platform, keeping a tight grip on the injured woman as they hit the surface together. Amy gave a gasp and cried out as the salt water hit her wound, but Marc was already pulling her to over to the boat, the distance was short and he reached it quickly, then told her to hold on as he grabbed for the edge, missed and went under the water, then came up and grabbed again, grasping at the net that was gathered at the side, then he used it to haul himself up and over the side of the vessel. He stood on the deck, pushed his wet hair from his eyes and looked to the others.
“It's easy!” he called back.
Then as something jerked her beneath the water, Amy was gone. She rose screaming as the sea turned red and she reached out for Marc's hand. Vicki was screaming too and the burst of fire beneath the waves that riddled the corpses below with bullets made Amy's body jerk too, then she floated, drifting, dead and bleeding as her sister sobbed and the tide rolled and carried her off.
“I'm sorry! Hayley called, “Just go, all of you! Do it now, those things are everywhere...”
She fired off another volley of shots into the water, random and hopeless as the wash of the tide returned more undead and she fired again.
“GO!” she yelled.
Vicki was sobbing and still in shock as Greg pulled her into the water.
“Swim with me for the boat,” he said, “I won't let you drown.”
She gave a sob, then cried out in panic as she realised she was in water mixed with her sister's blood. Greg took a firm hold of her, pulling her with him as Emma took a breath and slid into the sea, swimming with determination for the side of the boat.
“Hurry!” Marc called, leaning over the side.
Emma reached safety first, only able to take a real breath when she was lifted free of the water and stumbled on to the safety of the deck. Up above, the sounds of the dead were suddenly amplified. Hayley turned in horror to see the remains of the horde approaching, then she looked down, saw more in the water and swung the gun, peppering bullets left and right of the swimmers who had almost reached the boat. But more undead were piling in and rising up, some oil covered, some draped in seaweed, some bloated by water. The sea was infested now... As the dead closed in she turned back, holding off the first wave with another spray of gunfire.
In the water below the rig, Vicki went under, Greg pulled her up and she screamed as she lashed out in vain, trying to grasp at anything solid, thinking about the depth of the water, it was about to swallow her she was sure of it, the life jacket was about to slip off and she would sink down three miles... She screamed a third time and Greg grabbed her roughly, pushing her forward towards the boat.
“Hurry up!” he yelled, turning in the water to see shapes emerging from below, then more shadows formed on the swell of the tide as it rolled...
Marc reached down, grabbed Vicki and hauled her up and into the boat. Greg looked up and called to Hayley, looking on in horror at the sight of her firing off rounds then backing up against the barrier as more undead became visible.
“Don't wait!” she called back, and looked over her shoulder.
He knew in that moment he would never forget the look he saw in her eyes, then he turned and swam for the boat, reaching for Marc's hands. Marc grasped hold of him and began to pull, just as something below grabbed his legs and jerked him back again. Greg hit the water with a splash and as the undead below the surface bit down on his lower limbs, he kicked out, fought back, hit the surface again and yelled out in pain as he reached up, still yelling as he felt more flesh tear, then he was out of the water, on the deck of the boat and all he saw was the underside of the rig as pain took over and he passed out.
“Hayley!” Marc yelled.
She was up against the barrier, pinned by the dead now as they piled on her. She let off another burst of ammo and looked down at the water filled with more corpses, thrashing and snapping.
“Get out of here!” she called down, raising the flare gun.
Marc nodded, understanding at once and then he went to the cabin and started up the engine.
“What about her?” he heard Emma call.
He was busy raising the anchor.
“What about Hayley?” she demanded. Emma was in the cabin now, catching his arm as the anchor reeled in and the engine fired up.
“Too late,” was all he said, then he moved the boat out from under the rig, heading with the flow of the tide, pushing the engine to its limit to get away as quickly as possible.
On the rig, Hayley let fly the last burst of machine gun fire, felling the dead in front of her as the rest moved in for the kill. She looked to the deck covered in oil, then to the corpses, oil slicked and closing in and she lowered the flare gun, aiming into the path of the horde. She pulled the trigger, there was a flash, then the flames chased up and long the platform, igniting all oil in its path, turning the bodies into moving torches as they swayed and staggered and the flames engulfed them. The world turned to a cloud of orange blaze, taking her with it as t
he fire took hold.
As the fire burned on the rig, out at sea the boat was on full speed, riding the waves as it headed on course for the shore many miles away. The sound of a distant helicopter filled the air, Emma and Marc looked skyward to see the armed chopper swoop over the burning rig. Just then an explosion blasted upwards, and the helicopter was engulfed in flame and took a dive, crashing on to the rig as a second, larger explosion filled the air and a ball of flame flared up, then the fire burned on as smoke trailed high in the skies.
As the rig burned, the sun rose on a new day and Marc kept the boat steady as it cut through the waves. Emma was saying something about his best friend having five days before the virus took hold and that was time enough, it had to be, they just had to find help... Going back was the only option now, they had to head inland... He said nothing in reply, just set his sights on the distant horizon, waiting to glimpse land.
On the deck, Greg was on his back and bleeding out from deep bite wounds to his lower legs. Vicki was at his side sobbing.
“Don't die,” she begged, “I have no one left, please don't die, Greg...”
Then she reached for the bag of medical supplies, knowing all she could do was try and stop the bleeding as the boat sailed onward, heading inland, towards the unknown as the survivors took the only chance they had left - there was nothing out here but open water and they needed help, urgently...
Chapter 7
Zackary had watched from a distance as the rig blew. He saw the fireball and the chopper explosion and the boat heading off, becoming a dot on the horizon as the smoke trailed skyward and the rig continued to burn. He cast aside the binoculars and started up the engine, then sped away, heading for land as rage burned inside him and he thought of the drugs and how the sheer amount that he was owed would easily buy him back enough power to get through this hell on earth. His men were gone, the chopper was gone, hiring new help would be an impossible task – he had nothing left to trade, at least not until he reclaimed his stolen goods.
