Collapse: Book four of Beyond These Walls - A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

by Michael Robertson

  Heat flushed William’s cheeks and his throat locked. He nodded and coughed through it. “Yeah. I couldn’t believe it when I woke up to a table filled with food. There was more sweetbread than I could eat. I think I ate more that day than I had in the two weeks preceding it. It sounds greedy, and maybe I would have refused the gesture as an adult, but even as a kid I saw how much joy it gave them. They said it made their year. It was their way of showing how much they—” He stopped, his eyes burning. He rubbed his face and looked out over Edin.

  Another bite of the sweetbread, his eyes now watering, William smiled again. “Every time I eat, especially sweetbread, it reminds me of that day.”

  A deep breath, William then looked at Matilda to see her eyes red and swollen, her lips buckling out of shape. “They were special people,” she said.

  “They were.”

  As the damp weight of his parents’ loss eased, William took in his home district. The fields stretched away to the large wall encircling the city. The carriage shook from where Goliath stepped forward and back a few paces, although it seemed more from boredom than agitation. And who could blame him? Maybe an hour had passed, maybe more. Although spring, the evenings were still short, the sun having passed its zenith several hours previously.

  A surprisingly observant Hugh started packing up one of their wooden boxes. They’d taken three from the storage house and filled them with food they could eat without cooking. “I reckon we need to move on if we’re to get to the political district before dark.”

  Stomach full, his thirst sated, William helped the others as they followed Hugh’s lead, packing up their feast. They had enough to last them a few weeks, longer if they rationed it.

  William had eaten so much it almost hurt to lie on his front. The others on either side must have shared his discomfort. They all lay on their backs.

  Returning to the main street, the gentle clop of the large horse tapped into William’s post-feast drowsiness. They passed laundry on their left, the arena in the distance on their right. Then Hugh said, “Oh shit!”

  Hugh’s tone sent a tight clamp through William’s full stomach, and he looked in the same direction as his friend. They hadn’t been there moments before, but now, on the roofs, close to the road, stood about ten to fifteen boys and girls. All of them carried blades: some knives, some swords. A small army, they were ready to go to war.

  Olga called it out. “The boys and girls from woodwork.”

  William tugged Goliath’s right rein to give the gang a wide berth. “We just need to keep going. The road’s wide enough to avoid them, and they’d be insane to get off the roofs.”

  One of the taller boys walked closer to the edge. “You’ve been making quite a noise with that horse of yours. We want it.”

  Although none of them replied to the boy, Matilda sat up, the diseased on the road responding to her. “What the hell is that?” she said.

  The squeak of wooden cartwheels announced the appearance of a carriage similar to the one they were on. No horse, it had two boys with swords on it. Several gang members on laundry’s roofs used long poles to push it out in the road.

  More squeaking from their right, another carriage got shoved out in front of them. It also had two armed passengers and butted up to the first carriage, blocking the road.

  “They’ve got us surrounded,” Olga said.

  William looked back to see the same behind as in front: two carts with four passengers. “Shit!” What had started as about ten to fifteen kids on the roofs around them had now doubled. Two more carts appeared on their right, blocking access to agriculture.

  “They clearly want us to go down there,” Matilda said, nodding at an alley on their left.

  “Do we have any other choice?” William said.

  If any of them had ideas, they didn’t offer them. William tugged on the left rein. “Goliath can get us out of here.” His grip tightening, he said, “Hold on.” A sharp flick of the reins, it was enough to tell the large stallion what he needed. Goliath charged at the alley into laundry, and William did his best to aim him down the middle of the road, giving them as much space on either side as possible.

  But the gang didn’t try to use their blades. They had rocks and stones in their hands. Too busy controlling Goliath, it took for Matilda to shove a box over William’s head, blinding him, before he realised what they were doing. “You’ve just thrown the food away?”

  A rock destined for his skull crashed against his impromptu wooden helmet, his ears ringing from the loud boom! Coupled with the sound of the runaway cart, if Matilda replied to him, he didn’t hear it.

  Trusting in Goliath, William held on, his body bouncing on the roof of the carriage like a bean on a drum.

  A few seconds later, William removed the box in time to see they were on a collision course with a wall. A tight clench to his jaw, he pulled hard on the right rein, forcing a ninety-degree turn from the stallion.

  Goliath made it around. The cart didn’t. As the horse tried to drag them with it, the carriage tilted, the right side of it lifting before the whole thing tipped. William, Matilda, Olga, and Hugh flew from the roof, made weightless by the speed of their sudden sharp turn.

  Chapter 37

  The planet shook as William slammed into the dead-end wall. He hit the ground, the impact damn near realigning his skeleton. Surrounded by the shattered wood from Goliath’s carriage and their spilled supplies, the ringing in his ears nearly deafened him. But nothing could mute the shrill call of death closing in on them. The diseased descended from all sides.

  Legs barely able to support him, William stood up, one hand on the wall. It took two clumsy attempts to reach his sword handle and unsheathe it. The coppery taste of blood in his mouth, he spat crimson. To his left, Hugh and Olga dispatched the diseased with their usual deadly efficiency, Hugh with his sword, Olga with a baton. They’d need help soon. The diseased might have had inferior fighting skills, but the numbers were well in their favour.

  William hadn’t yet seen … “Matilda!” A pair of still legs poked from beneath the wrecked carriage. Several diseased charged up the road they’d ridden Goliath along. They must have seen her too.

  Two wobbly steps, William found his stride before leaping the part of the carriage Matilda lay beneath. He headed straight for the diseased, leading with the tip of his sword, his momentum burying his blade in the front runner’s chest. As he landed, his foot twisted on a piece of wood, and he only just held his balance, finding his footing so he stood ready to fight the others. Where one diseased fell, several filled its spot.

  Before they got to him, William reached down and pulled the box from Matilda’s head. He then spun around, bringing his sword in a wide arc before burying it into the neck of another diseased.

  Two more strikes dropped two more diseased. It bought him a moment. Matilda remained on her back, staring at the sky through glazed eyes. Blood ran from her nose, covering her top lip. A line of it trickled from her right ear. William waved in case she couldn’t hear him and enunciated his words as clearly as possible. “We can’t stay here. You need to get up.”

  The Matilda he knew returned, clarity pushing through her daze as she nodded. William dropped another diseased before jumping back over the wrecked carriage. It partially blocked the road, giving him enough time to help Matilda to her feet.

  Matilda stared towards Olga and Hugh. And why wouldn’t she? The two of them together were a sight to behold. But what she said next rocked William’s world more than the skeleton-jarring collision with the wall. “Goliath!”

  He hadn’t checked his horse. Goliath lay on his left side, what remained of the carriage still attached to him as he kicked out with his right front leg. It had snapped halfway down, the bottom of it swinging loose.

  William navigated the debris to get to his horse. Goliath’s nostrils flared. His wide ribs rose and fell with his quickened breaths. Although he knew Olga, Hugh, and Matilda were fighting the diseased, he only had eyes for
his horse. They’d buy him the time he needed.

  As William rested his palm against the side of Goliath’s sweating face, he whispered, “There, there, boy. Everything’s going to be okay.” Even as he said it, his clamping throat threatened to take his words away. Goliath’s dark brown eyes fixed on him, a depth of understanding unlike any he’d seen before. The horse couldn’t be lied to.

  “William! We’ve got to move. We won’t last long here.” Maybe Hugh had said it several times already, his tone frantic, his sword swinging at the onrushing diseased.

  Then William saw them. The front runners from woodwork had caught up, their blades glinting.

  His hands shaking and damn near blinded by his tears, William unhooked Goliath’s carriage and shoved the wooden bars free. Hacking, slashing, stabbing around him. A smell of the disease stronger than ever before. The metallic tang of blood mixed with rot and vinegar, the true curdling of an organism. But he needed to get Goliath out of there.

  William ran back to his horse and pulled on its neck. “Come on, boy.”

  Goliath didn’t move.

  “William”—Olga this time; she cracked several skulls with her baton—“we need to get out of here.”

  “Come on, Goliath, get up.”

  Still Goliath remained on his side, a pool spreading out beneath him from where he let his bladder go.

  “Get up!” William screamed, drowning out the cries around them. “Get up, you dumb beast.”

  Goliath closed his eyes, his large frame relaxing.

  “No! Don’t give up. We can get you out of here.”

  When someone touched his shoulder, William spun around as if to fight them. Matilda. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Instead, she stepped towards Olga and Hugh, who were moving off in the direction of a nearby alleyway. But she waited. She wouldn’t go without him. Even if that meant death.

  William’s voice cracked. “I can’t leave him.”

  “Look at him. He’s done. He knows it.”

  Tittering laughter over the top of diseased’s cries, a rock crashed down next to William from the gang on the roof. Matilda dropped two more diseased, blood spraying away from each of them in a wide arc.

  A deep inhale, William stood over Goliath as more projectiles crashed against the ground. His entire body shook like he had hypothermia. “I’m sorry, boy. I shouldn’t have made you turn so fast. I’m so sorry.” He wiped his vision clear and looked into the deep brown eyes of his horse. The most noble being he’d ever met, he saw both pain and acceptance as if, even now, in the darkest moment when he should be looking after Goliath, Goliath was protecting him.

  “William,” Matilda said, rising panic in her tone.

  His yell tearing at his sore throat, William screamed and drove his sword, tip first, into Goliath’s head. The creature’s skull more resilient than the many diseased he’d ended, it gave with a deep pop. A series of spasms snapped through Goliath before he fell limp.

  Matilda had already set off after Olga and Hugh, more rocks and stones crashing down around them.

  It was like he’d been slammed into the wall all over again. William’s legs barely had the strength to carry him, but he pushed on, following his friends as a stampede approached from behind. The boys and girls from woodwork cackled like monkeys, trying to keep up with them as they tracked them from the roofs.

  Chapter 38

  Although Olga and Hugh streaked off ahead, Matilda moved at a slower pace to give William the chance to find his stride. His grief had turned his legs bandy, and he fought his lack of co-ordination with every step. As his tears dried, his view of their route cleared. Hugh and Olga led the way, the bulk of the diseased behind them and the woodwork gang stalking them from the roofs.

  Like every district, laundry had a residential sector filled with one-storey houses. They zigzagged with no apparent direction. A maze that would have been easy to get lost in if they didn’t have Olga. At present, they had to remain on the ground. Their lead over the diseased horde was a safer option than fighting the small army on the roofs.

  But who knew what lay in wait, and the pack behind was drawing closer. William didn’t need to turn around again to see how close. The thunder of steps grew louder. The heavy breathing. The screams.

  Even over the furious diseased and cackling laughter of the gang, Matilda managed to send her voice towards their friends about twenty feet ahead. “We’re running out of time, Olga.”

  A raised hand from Olga and nothing more. They needed to trust her.

  His chest still tight from losing Goliath, no matter how many times William inhaled, he couldn’t catch his breath. It didn’t matter how much he trusted her, his body would give out soon.

  Olga’s plan suddenly unfolded in front of them as both she and Hugh, and then William and Matilda, burst out onto a wide street. Cobblestone like many of the main roads in Edin, it stretched at least twenty to thirty feet wide and ran away from them in both directions. Troughs of water lined the centre of the road, some of them serving as baths for diseased corpses.

  Olga and Hugh moved fast, cracking and splitting the heads of the closest diseased. Their aggression and pace caught the creatures unawares, and they reached the other side of the road before scrambling up onto the roofs.

  William ran one way around a trough in the middle of the road and Matilda the other while diseased closed in. The cobblestones uneven underfoot, stars swam in William’s vision from where he still hadn’t caught his breath.

  But before they reached the buildings opposite, three narrow alleyways in front of them belched a stream of diseased. Hugh and Olga must have drawn them out.

  Their way in front blocked, the diseased who’d chased them burst out behind. The ones on the right were close, the ones on the left closer. Matilda said, “Shit.”

  When Hugh pointed to their right, William and Matilda took his advice and ran. Only then did William see there were no alleys to run down and the houses that way were taller. Too tall.

  Olga and Hugh tore across the rooftops and soon overtook them.

  Hugh—now several houses ahead of them—lay on his front on one of the rooftops. Olga crouched over the back of his legs as an anchor while he reached down with both hands.

  The diseased behind were so close William could almost feel their hot breath on his neck. They had about a thirty-foot gap to the creatures ahead. The gang tracked their progress from the roofs on the opposite side of the road.

  “You need to go up first,” William said.

  Matilda didn’t argue. She climbed faster. She’d clear the route quicker like she did on their way to the gym’s roof. She sped up, opening a small gap between them.

  Matilda used Hugh like a rope, climbing to the roof in two fluid movements. William next, he grabbed his friend’s hands and let Hugh drag him up.

  His lungs tight, William fell on his back and panted at the sky. After a few seconds, he sat up, his entire body shaking. About thirty boys and girls from woodwork stood on the other side of the road. They remained armed, although knives and rocks had zero effectiveness with the gap separating them.

  When Olga flipped them the bird, William stood up and did the same. He then turned his back on the gang and followed the fierce girl from laundry across the uneven roofs of her home’s residential area.

  Chapter 39

  For about the next half an hour William and the others followed Olga’s lead across laundry’s rooftops. The setting sun in their eyes, they travelled at a manageable pace. It helped William to keep moving because every time they slowed down, thoughts of Goliath caught up to him. The diseased packed the main streets and had a presence in the narrower alleys. The creatures were everywhere, but the deeper they’d travelled into the city, the less densely they populated it. Had Goliath crashed in agriculture or woodwork, they wouldn’t have made it out alive. They were yet to see the gangs from woodwork again.

  Another check around, William said, “Do you think we’ve lost them?”


  Although the other three also checked, none of them replied. Who’d want to say for sure?

  Olga stopped on one of the buildings. It looked much like the others, another canted roof in the rickety sea. But it stood slightly taller than those surrounding it.

  Her hands on her hips, her tanned skin glistening in the fading sun, Matilda breathed heavily as she said, “What are we doing here?”

  Instead of replying, Olga walked to the edge of the roof, dropped down to her knees, and lowered herself backwards off the building. A loud crack and she disappeared from their sight.

  When William got to the edge, Olga looked back up at him from what appeared to be a loft. “Come down,” she said.

  Hugh went first, then Matilda. His body still weak, the rough tiles were tricky to hold on to, but William managed it, hanging down from the roof, his stomach turning backflips as his legs dangled. Someone then grabbed his belt and pulled him in. When he felt solid ground beneath his feet, he let his grip go and stepped into the open space.

  White sheets, towels, and curtains everywhere. Before William could ask, Olga said, “This is one of the fabric storage houses where we keep freshly washed garments. Unless you know the district, you don’t know they’re here. They’re amongst the few buildings that have lofts.”

  The only light came in from the small hatch Olga had kicked open. Matilda stood closest to it. “Why is this door here?”

  “Two reasons,” Olga said. “Ventilation for if the garments are still slightly damp, and sometimes it’s easier to access the fabrics from the ground than to go through the building to get to them.” After she’d used her feet to shuffle some of the sheets into a small mound, Olga fell onto them and lay on her back.

  Matilda remained by the hatch. “So why are we here?”

  Olga sat up. “It’s getting late. We need to rest.”

  “What about Artan?”