Lost Survival (Book 2): Only The Saints

by David Tyne

  "Right then,” I groaned. “Let’s start by looking for some food. Those idiots will be starving by the time they swim over here.” Serah was hardly enthusiastic as she wobbled upwards, along with Jamie who had retreated back to his grumpy and surly self.

  We circled around the waterfront back towards the bridge. The surrounding area was completely devoid of any movement — that was, until we reached the main road.

  A tangled mess of Lost toppled over each other at the bridge's entrance, writhing and eager to become part of the burning commotion. It paved the way for a perfect distraction, allowing us to slip past. Along the way, we came across a quiet hotel called ‘The Sleeping Fox’ on the Main Street; the swaying, rustic sign on the outside exerted the feeling that there was a fair amount of vintage goods waiting for us inside.

  It didn't take long, maybe five minutes or so before the majority of the Lost in the area had dispersed. Playing the long game, we waited for them to move before rushing towards the entrance. We had no weapons, after losing Jamie's hunting knife back at the tent... meaning that we had to be extra careful.

  Closing the heavy wooden door behind me, I made sure to bolt it so that we were safe from the rest of the maddening world. I instructed Serah to look around the entrance for any items we could use to defend ourselves with, while Jamie and I searched the rooms for food and other useful belongings.

  I wanted to keep my eye on him, especially after his dramatic breakdown earlier. I didn't particularly like how quiet he was being, and found it even more unnerving that I’d learned virtually nothing about him after nearly two days. He might as well have been a stranger, but if Beth trusted him, I figured that he at least deserved the benefit of the doubt.

  As we unabashedly went about looting the hotel’s guest rooms, we’d barely found anything of use other than loose cash. While I looked past the money for anything useful, the boy behind me seemed to be having a field day with the amount of swag up for grabs.

  "Don't be an idiot, put it back... You know that stuff is useless now." I sighed, reminded of when Beth thought I was going to pay for my looting spree at the newsagents.

  "If it's useless, you won't have any problem with me taking it then, would you? Asshole..." Jamie spat a few more curses my way, stubborn as he pocketed another couple-hundred quid from lingering purses and wallets. I shrugged, and decided to let the kid do what he wanted — not that I'd have any authority over his actions, anyway.

  The corridor in-between the guest rooms sharply opened up into the bar area of the hotel. I was about to enter with the temptation of free booze, but froze as soon as I heard the clinking of glasses.

  I raised my hand, pressing Jamie into the wall so that he was out of the way. Loose change jingled in his pockets for what seemed like the longest second ever, but the noise thankfully attracted no attention. A murmuring sound and laughter could be heard inside...

  People? They’re alive...

  I slowly turned my head around the corner, trying to observe the scene.

  Three suited men sat at the bar, while a fourth stood behind and poured whiskey into each of the gentlemen's glasses. Between the lot of them, they had two hunting rifles and what appeared to be a sawn-off shotgun resting against the counter.

  Guns?! Where is everyone getting all of this crazy shit?!

  They seemed to be having a good time, and from the looks of the suitcases on the floor — filled to the brim with all sorts of alcoholic drinks — there were many more good times to be had. I pointed aggressively at Jamie, and then motioned him back towards the reception. We didn't want any unnecessary trouble.

  I started to tiptoe my way over to the main lobby, but it only took one second to realise that the boy wasn't following behind me. He peered into the room filled with armed strangers, entranced. I shook my head tensely, but he only smirked back in my direction.

  Apparently, something must’ve caught Jamie’s greedy eye in their pile of raided belongings, as he stuck his tongue out in concentration and promptly got on his hands and knees. The boy ignored my hissed objections, stealthily crawling into the centre of the death-trap.

  Fuck, that’s it. I’m never having kids.

  13 | Troublemaker

  Jamie Cruff held his breath, lagging behind his parents as they entered the festival of vibrant colours and flashing lights. It wasn’t often that they spent the day together, but he’d complained for the past year for his mum and dad to take him to the amusement park.

  In all truth, he knew that he was too old for most of the rides. They were surrounded by screaming kids, large families, unnatural happy faces that he’d only ever seen in advertisements. He’d always wanted to come here when he was younger, but today wasn’t about him.

  “Jamie, sweetheart… What would you like to ride first?” His mother squeezed his hand, to which he could only shrug in response. His eyes drifted back to his dad, who had been glancing at his watch ever since they entered. A low scowl took over the man, stapling his glare to the littered park’s ground.

  “Hurry up and pick something.”

  “Don’t rush him,” Jamie’s mother scolded.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that some of us have to ‘work’ during the day.” Giving a deep sigh, he dug his fingers underneath the kid-sized wristband they’d all been branded with. “Forty quid, and the damn kid still can’t manage a smile. Fuckin’ waste of time.”

  Jamie’s attention drifted off, trying not to anchor himself to another one of his parents’ arguments. Ever since the divorce, he’d been looking for ways to make them spend time together. To act like a proper family, the ones he always saw on TV.

  I wish we could go somewhere new, he thought numbly. Another country, far away from here. Maybe then, they’d learn to love each other again.

  Walking away from the two squabbling adults, they didn’t seem to notice as Jamie investigated the various stalls and attractions. He flashed his wristband at the ferris wheel operator, who looked as miserable as he did. Nodding lazily, the clown-dressed carnie opened one of the cages… but then they both froze, turning back to the crowded sea of thrill-seekers.

  There was something unusual about the screams of the surrounding roller coasters. Less joy in them than before, sounding more like terror. Genuine terror.

  “Kid, get in.” He tilted his head at the female clown, confused. She gripped his shoulder, throwing him backwards into the metal prison. “I said get in! Now!!”

  The masses in front of them grew even more frantic, realising something bad was clawing its way through the entrance. Roughly where his mum and dad had been standing.

  Just as he was about to cry out for them, another figure slammed themselves into the cage alongside him. “Mum!” he exclaimed, backing away from her once he saw the blood spurting from her shoulder. “W-Where’s Dad? Is he—”

  “Fuck that bastard!” she yelled, shutting them inside as the wheel started turning. “Don’t look at them, baby. Don’t look…”

  She broke into tears, shaking her head at the massacre occurring below them. Carnival folk and punters fell like flies, the gore being torn out of them by hungry predators before they rose up to attack the remaining few.

  At the peak of the ferris wheel, the ride stopped and the two of them could only hold onto each other for support. Jamie cried into his mother’s bloody shoulder, feeling her body grow weaker as the minutes passed by.

  With her last ounce of strength, she pushed him away. “Why… Why…”

  “M-Mum? What—”

  “Why… did you make us come here?” Her teeth gritted, eyes filled with bitterness. “You really are… selfish…”

  “Mum! No!” He screamed, shuffling her limp body onto the cage’s floor. Jamie kept prodding around, even slapping her in the face. No response.

  The teen sat in a ball and cried, suspended in the sky as the dead encircled him from below. He wailed until his throat was hoarse, not caring how many of them heard him. It made no sense, everyone was fi
ne only minutes before...

  His confusion never lasted. The boy looked up to see a tall shadow standing over him, a vacant shell. It wore the face of his mother, a contorted grey mask covered in her own blood.

  From what little he’d seen, he put the pieces together. This was not the woman who raised him. This was not the person he loved. This... was a monster.

  Jamie’s fingers trembled as he unbolted the cage’s door, feeling the wind brush him closer towards the edge. He would have to do it, or else he’d end up just like her.

  There was only one way off of this never-ending ride.

  ----

  I nearly swore aloud, startled in the silenced hotel. Serah's hand clasped around my shoulder, making me jump with an unmanly squeal.

  When I spun around, I almost impaled my eye sockets on her various sharp metalworks, raised inches away. They prodded me backwards, narrowly missing the room filled with suited gentlemen.

  Handing me an iron fireplace poker, Serah looked at me curiously as I placed my finger to my lips, pointing into the bar. She got the message, tilting her head around the corner.

  The brunette immediately shot me a sceptical glare, probably questioning why on Earth I would let Jamie jump head-first into such a predicament. I had no excuse, other than sheer incompetence as a babysitter.

  It was too late to call him back— all we could do was watch, tensed as the boy wormed his way around the edge of the room. His gaze set upon the upturned suitcase, he’d clearly spotted something more valuable than his own life in there.

  I had to admit, the kid was surprisingly quick on his knees. Sliding under the wooden stools and tables, it was as though he'd reduced the bar area to a child’s jungle-gym.

  Surprisingly enough, he eventually made it over to his desired location. Rummaging through a half-opened metallic briefcase, his face seemed to light up at its contents.

  Closing it over, he hoisted the container into both arms and was about to start wriggling his way back... until his leg hooked on the edge of a bar stool.

  Time stopped for a brief second, and Jamie looked back towards me with the fear of God in him. The stool suspended itself in the air, teetering past the tipping point. I realised that we only had a precious couple of seconds left to let Jamie escape unharmed, even factoring in my own interference.

  A noise... I urged myself, trying to break my paralysis. A distraction, anything will do...

  Without any regard for my safety, I raced the falling stool against the clock as I reached towards the bar with my metal poker. Snagging the nearest hunting rifle towards me, my intrusion caused the four gentlemen to spin around in bewilderment. I grabbed the gun by the trigger just as Jamie's stool clattered to the ground, squeezing hard into the ceiling at the exact same time.

  A thunderous gunshot filled the room, powerfully louder than the sound of the wooden stool falling. With all eyes on me, Jamie stood up quietly and slid out of the opposite end of the bar, briefcase-in-hand. The second hunting rifle and sawn-off shotgun were pointing directly at my chest, trained in the hands of two startled day-time drinkers.

  "How fast can you pull that trigger, lad? Four against one?" Frowning, one of the suits tightened their grip with an uncomfortable click. I had no idea how I was going to explain this one...

  Just when I was about to plead for my life, my other companion burst into the room, coughing and clutching her stomach. Her wet eyes aligned with my attackers, coated with sticky tears.

  "S-Serah?!" I choked, almost pulling myself away from the stand-off to scold her for getting involved.

  "Sweetheart! There was a noise, I thought you were... Who are these men?!" The four intruders stared at the confused girl, who draped her arms around me without warning, purposely lowering my hunting rifle.

  I had no idea what she was doing, or why she was playing dumb. She’d clearly seen everything that happened from the hallway...

  "Stand back, lady! You're not gettin' any of our gear!" The man with the threatening shotgun took a firm step forward.

  Serah lashed out at him, almost hysterically. "We don't want your stupid alcohol!" She took my lazy hand off the trigger, and placed it directly over her stomach. "He was only trying to provide for me... We didn't mean any trouble, just let my Daniel go!"

  She embraced my entire body, straddling in front of the potential attackers. Casting a wounded glare back at them, her eyes were already breaking into further tears.

  "We're going to be a family... Please, don't hurt my baby's father!"

  14 | Indebted

  No one had even blinked for at least a minute, the last words that Serah screeched still hung sober in the air. I gazed worriedly into her eyes with her face pressed up against mine... and for a flashing second, I caught her sly wink.

  Realising this was all a trick, I threw her something to work with. "Serah, stand back. They'll kill you too... I can't let you throw away two lives for the sake of mine!"

  I wasn't as good an actor as Serah, trying to add a catch in my throat as she effortlessly cried on cue, much like a professional. The hunting rifle dropped to our feet as we both backed away, burying our faces into each other's shoulders while Serah faked sobbing sounds.

  Hope this works, I feel like an idiot...

  I could see from the corner of my eye, the four men had lowered their weapons and were glancing awkwardly at each other, unsure of what to make of it.

  "Boss, maybe we should..." One of the suits turned hesitantly towards the portly grey-haired man in the corner, busy lighting up a cigar. We never got to hear his verdict of our performance, as yet another cronie came around the corner, holding a familiar little scamp by the collar.

  "Jamie!" I yelled without thinking, rushing over to him and snapping the captor’s hold as the boy fell against me. The briefcase was nowhere to be found, but at least the man who brought Jamie hadn't realised it was missing.

  The one called 'Boss' took another large puff, filling the bar with smoke as he stomped past our little line-up. "...Quite a few of you, eh? Sure there aren't any more rug rats crawlin' around?"

  I shook my head sternly. One wrong word to their leader, and our brains would be redecorating the nicotine-stained wallpaper.

  "Good. Now, I don't know what the fuck you think you're playin' at, but I'll give you one last chance to tell me why I shouldn't stick a bullet through your skull in the next ten seconds. Go."

  Before I could utter a single word, I was once again interrupted by the angst of a ‘fearless’ teenager.

  "...Fuck... off…” Jamie spat, choking on his own distaste. “Like there's any point in killing people, after everything that's happened. There are monsters walking around out there, and you think we’re the bad guys?! Get your fucking priorities straight!!"

  The strangely-composed Boss stared back for a brief moment, tensing his knuckles around his cigar... then started chuckling loudly.

  "Aha! Hah!! You got real moxie, kid! Tell ya what, I'll pretend you lot were misguided for a second there. Maybe thought that we were intruding on your sad little hotel getaway. Besides, what kind of man would want a pregnant woman to suffer any losses? Given the state of affairs on that bridge out there."

  He nodded through the smoke to the unclean window, where the Lost had finally begun to lose interest in the Forth bridge. The majority of them were already wandering back through the Main Street, effectively trapping us inside.

  “You kids weren’t a part of what happened to those local blood fetishists last night, were ya?” He asked, rather suddenly.

  “N-No Sir,” Serah coughed, a blatant but necessary lie. “Blood fetishists?”

  "Heh, maybe you’re better off not knowing. We're willing to call off our little misunderstanding here... That is, if you don’t mind helping us on a small errand."

  The Boss stabbed out his cigar on the counter, his eyes pointing towards the suitcases filled with alcohol. The sight seemed to make him smile, probably counting the hours of pain and worry that each one
could dampen.

  "Charlie Banks is the name. Banks, if you want. We're having a little soiree over at the old Aquarium. Decided that we needed a little something to take the edge off, but we gathered too much shit. You can escort us back, maybe stay and socialise. Help me cheer some of the older residents up, and this whole mess? Completely forgotten."

  They didn't even let us consider his offer, as the other men closed over the suitcases and kicked them in our general direction. Luckily, they didn't seem to notice the missing metal case that Jamie must have tossed away in the process of being caught. If they did, we’d never have gotten off so lightly.

  I grabbed onto the closest piece of luggage, unsure of how exactly we’d managed to score an invite to the apocalypse’s most luxurious event. I glanced over at Serah, who was equally confused.

  "Well then,” I exhaled, “looks like we're sleeping with the fishes tonight."

  ----

  The ‘Aquarium’ he was referring to also happened to be the single largest collection of marine life in Scotland. I had never been before, but almost everyone had heard of it — it was a major public attraction, and seeing as the rest of the sights were either lochs, nature trails or the Campsies, it stood out quite a bit.

  We had to wait another short while for the Lost to disperse, seemingly patrolling the area in waves. After leaving the hotel, we hoofed the suitcases uphill as the suited gentlemen guarded our path with their rifles and shotgun.

  They were even generous enough to let me carry my metal poker again, and Serah handed Jamie one of the two letter-openers she'd found. They were roughly the same size as his hunting knife, but she threw hers away to keep up her pregnancy act. When Mr Banks and his men were busy shooting the overhead Lost, I slapped Jamie lightly on the back of the head.

  "You idiot... Do you have any idea how dangerous that was, back there? We nearly died, all because you tried to steal some useless paper! You're lucky that they never caught on..." He was still pouting, refusing to acknowledge me at all.