Infection Z 3

by Ryan Casey

  “Karen,” Matt cut in.

  “No,” Karen shouted. She stood up and walked towards Hayden. “I won’t have this. I won’t have this.” She smacked a hand hard against Hayden’s chest. “People thinking they can tell me how to raise my son, how to look after my son. People … people still telling me what to do even when he’s gone.”

  She lashed out and hit harder and then, exhausted, she fell crying into her husband’s arms.

  Matt gave Hayden a look that told him everything he needed to hear—it was time to leave.

  “I just want my boy back,” Karen sobbed. “I … I just want my little boy back.”

  Hayden wanted to tell Karen that he understood loss, that he’d lost so much in his life that he could relate. But a part of him was numb to loss. A part of him was desensitised. Since Clarice died in front of him, he hadn’t cried about her. He hadn’t mourned, not in the traditional ways. He’d banished the memories from his mind. And they came crawling back to him in the confines of sleep when he couldn’t run away, but in reality he just kept his eyes shut to the truth and powered on with life.

  He couldn’t allow himself to grieve. He couldn’t allow himself to feel. He’d felt way too much in his life, and it had caught up with him one time too many.

  He turned away from Matt and Karen’s room and left them to grieve. He’d give them time. One more night with their son, and then they’d have to clear their heads and step forward with the only logical thing: burial. It wasn’t a nice thought. It was a damned horrid thought. But they had a chance to bury their son. Not a lot of people had a chance to say a proper goodbye to their loved ones in this world. That was something.

  Hayden pushed open the rusty metal door that led out into the Riversford grounds. He zipped up his thick winter coat as the cold of night surrounded him. His breath frosted from his mouth as he walked across the concrete, past the spot where they’d found Tim’s body, and towards the wall. Sarah was up there on watch. He had to go up there, reassure her everything was going to be okay. She’d been pretty shaken up by Tim’s death. All of them had.

  He climbed the ladder up the side of the CityFast hangar and reached the roof. He liked coming up here at night. Night watch was his favourite because it gave him a legitimate reason to avoid sleep.

  He walked across the stones laid on the roof and towards Sarah, who sat at the edge of the building with her eye to the rifle scope.

  “Hey,” Hayden said.

  Sarah jumped, lowered the weapon and swung to look at him. “Damn. You love giving me a fright, don’t you?”

  Hayden perched down beside her and she looked through her scope again. “Figured you could use some company.”

  “I’m not sure what I need right now,” Sarah said. Her voice still had that distant shakiness to it like it had down in the yard when they’d found Tim’s body. “This. Everything. It’s all just so …”

  “Shitty?” Hayden said.

  “Shitty,” Sarah said. She lowered the scope and together with Hayden, stared out at the fields and the trees beyond.

  “I just keep thinking of Tim and wondering how this world can be so damned cruel,” she said.

  Hayden took the gun from her and put his eye to the scope. “If you’re only just realising that, then poor you.”

  He looked out beyond the wall. Saw the empty streets, the still, abandoned houses, the vacant fields, the vast forest.

  “You seem so … so calm. About everything. Hayden, you haven’t once spoken to me about what happened to Clarice.”

  The words made Hayden’s grip on the gun tighten. He felt his cheeks heating up, his mouth drying. “There’s nothing to say. She’s … she’s dead. She died and she’s gone. Nothing more to be done.”

  “But it’s okay to talk, sometimes,” Sarah said. “It’s better to talk sometimes. I know how close she was to you. And I can’t imagine how much it must tear you up inside.”

  No, you can’t imagine, Hayden thought. You can’t imagine and nobody can imagine. Not even I can imagine because if I imagine I see evil; evil that I can never unsee. “I’m okay,” he said, forcing the words through his tight lips. “I’ll …”

  And then he saw the movement in the fields.

  Saw the woman sprinting in the direction of Riversford.

  Cream dress. Dark hair. Fear on her face.

  “What’s up?” Sarah asked.

  “There’s—there’s a woman out there.”

  Hayden kept on staring at the woman. A part of him thought she looked so ragged and pale that she had to be a zombie. But no—she was muttering something. Shouting something, even. Words that were becoming clearer. Words that made sense.

  “Help me!” she screamed. “Let me in! Help me! Please!”

  Hayden was about to lower the gun when he saw the movement behind her.

  The crowd of zombies closing in, one by one …

  Six

  “No. No chance. It’s too risky.”

  Sarah shook her head. Hayden could see from the way the colour was returning to her face in the glow of the moonlight that she wasn’t happy with him. “She’s out there on her own. She needs help. What are we supposed to do? Just leave her out there to die?”

  Hayden looked back through the rifle scope over the wall at the scene Sarah was referring to. The woman in the white dress running for her life, shouting for help. And behind her, getting closer and closer, a crowd of a dozen zombies.

  “We can take a few of them out,” Hayden said. “Snipe a few zombies from here and give her a chance. But she isn’t coming inside. Not with … with what happened. To Tim.”

  “Is that the real reason you’re not letting her inside? Or is the real reason just that you’re too damned afraid to let anyone inside anymore?”

  Hayden tightened his grip on the rifle, eased his aim and pointed at the zombies behind the woman. He fired a shot, sent it slicing right through the zombie’s shoulder but not quite hitting the neck. “This isn’t about—”

  “Get real, Hayden. You’ve not been the same since Clarice died, and it’s about time you started facing up to it. Remember the man who went back into the CityFast HQ ten days ago? The man who went back and saved the people who we’re living with right now? The people we’re looking after?”

  Hayden fired another bullet in the direction of the zombies. He heard footsteps as someone clambered up the ladder, probably Gary. “I let them down. I let … I let Matt and Karen down.”

  “And you’re about to let somebody else down if you don’t come to your frigging senses and let that woman in. At least give her a chance, Hayden. Let’s—let’s monitor her, at least. But don’t leave her out there to die. Don’t make that call. I … I won’t let you make that call.”

  Hayden glanced away from his scope and met Sarah’s eyes. He saw that look. That look of disdain, but also a look of fear. A look that told Hayden she didn’t trust him, couldn’t predict what he was going to do, anymore. And in a way, it echoed Hayden’s own thoughts. He wasn’t sure if he could trust himself. He wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to trust anyone or anything ever again.

  “The hell’s goin’ on down there?” Gary asked. He walked over to the edge of the hangar and joined Sarah and Hayden in looking over the wall.

  “There’s a woman out there,” Sarah said.

  “A … A live one?”

  “Not for long if Hayden has his way.”

  Hayden looked back through the scope. The woman was just metres away from the wall now. They could—could—go down there and throw the rope ladder over for her. But it was a risk. There was a chance of the visible zombies being a smaller splinter group of a larger herd, the like of which Hayden hadn’t seen since that fateful night ten days ago. And the group couldn’t suffer another upheaval. Not so hot on the heels of Tim’s death.

  The thought hit him in its rawest form: Tim is dead. Gone. Finished.

  “So what do we do?” Gary asked. “Out there ’n help her or—”

 
; “It’s too risky. It’s too risky.”

  “Of course it’s too frigging risky,” Sarah said, frustration bubbling through her voice. “Everything’s frigging risky these days. But we have to take risks. You’ve seen that yourself. We take risks or we die. That’s all life is now. One risk after another.”

  Hayden fired at another of the zombies. The bullet fizzed past it, missed it completely. The zombies were gaining ground on the woman, who was right up to the wall now, scratching at the stones and shouting out.

  “Screw this,” Gary said. “I ain’t leavin’ her out there to squeal.”

  “Amen to that,” Sarah said, heading for the ladder.

  “How does she know?”

  Gary clambered down the ladder first, Sarah following shortly behind. The sound of the woman’s screams echoed through the night.

  “Know what?” Sarah asked.

  Hayden looked back through his scope at the oncoming zombies. He got one in his sights, tickled the trigger, but this time he didn’t fire. “How does she know there’s someone here to help her?”

  Sarah didn’t respond.

  She was already down the ladder, running towards the gates.

  Hayden watched Gary and Sarah appear to his lower right. All the while, the zombies edged closer. He saw Sarah and Gary climb up the debris that Tim had climbed, scamper up to the top of it like rats in a scrapyard, and then when they reached the top they lowered the rope ladder and shouted out for the woman to grab on.

  Hayden fired at the nearest zombie.

  And then at the one behind.

  And the one behind that.

  But every time he fired, he felt something welling deep within. Like he was making an error of judgement. Like they were all opening themselves up to a new set of horrors.

  Paranoia? Probably.

  But paranoia had served him well so far.

  He watched Gary and Sarah fish the rope ladder further down towards the woman. Saw the sides of it strain under her weight as she clutched onto the bottom of it, invisible to Hayden but there for the mind’s eye to see. He watched Gary and Sarah hold on even tighter as the woman ascended, as the remaining zombies got closer, closer …

  He pointed at the zombies and he pulled the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  No explosion from the end of the gun.

  Nothing.

  Fuck.

  He lowered the gun. Went to reload, but it was jammed. He looked through the scope. Looked over at the ladder. The zombies would be on her if he didn’t kill them fast. They’d be …

  He saw the woman climbing up onto the wall, her arms over Sarah and Gary’s shoulders.

  Hayden felt a simultaneous hit of relief and disappointment. And that reactionary sense of disappointment absolutely terrified him.

  He lowered the gun completely and headed down the ladder to the yard. He had to meet this woman. Make sure she wasn’t going to cause trouble. Make sure she could be trusted.

  If anyone could be trusted.

  He saw her sitting on the concrete, tears rolling down her cheeks, lit up by the dim glow of Gary’s torchlight.

  Hayden walked slowly towards her. Sarah and Gary were still, in a daze, like they’d received some bad news.

  And Hayden understood the bad news the moment the woman pulled back the bandage on her left forearm, revealing a gaping bite wound.

  His stomach sank. And rose.

  And terrified him.

  He walked up to her. She was bitten. No arguing. No denying. What had to be done, had to be done.

  “She was bit,” Gary said, shaking his head. But he didn’t look disappointed. He looked amazed.

  “We need to talk about—”

  “She was bit over a week ago,” Sarah said.

  Hayden narrowed his eyes. “That’s not possible. She … she can’t …”

  “I was bitten ten days ago,” the woman said, looking right up at Hayden. “And I’m … I’m still here.”

  And then she passed out and hit the concrete.

  Seven

  The woman’s name was Holly Waterfield.

  She lay back against a plumped-up cushion in a spare room in the living quarters. Her dark hair was so sweaty that it looked plastered to her head. The dress she was wearing looked like it might have been white once upon a time, a long time ago.

  Right now, it was a discoloured cream shade, a combination of sweat, dirt and blood laced through it.

  On her left forearm, the exposed remains of a bite wound.

  She opened her eyes when Hayden entered the room. It was night now, deep in the night, and although Hayden and the others had agreed to give her some rest, it was important to monitor this woman. Hayden couldn’t shake the feeling that she might have something to do with Callum’s old Riversford group; the ones who had fled this place. It was unlikely, sure, but there was no way of being certain how anyone was going to operate in this new world.

  She stared intently at his face with her brown eyes. Deep purple bags were wrapped around the outside of them, like bruises from a punch.

  “Hope you don’t mind me disturbing you,” Hayden said, keeping the metal door slightly ajar so he could still feel the cool silence of the corridor. He didn’t want to completely commit to being in this room alone with this woman. He didn’t want to risk anything.

  Holly yawned and stretched out her arms. “It’s okay. Wasn’t sleeping too good anyway.”

  “You looked like you were sleeping just fine.”

  “Do you always watch strangers sleep?”

  Hayden went to respond, but he felt his cheeks heating up.

  Holly shook her head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t tease. Just … just being out there on my own for so long. I’ve missed people.”

  Hayden nodded. A part of him wanted to walk closer to her, create a wider sphere of trust. But he held back. Stayed by the door. He didn’t want to get suckered in. He had no idea who to trust, what to believe, not after all the loss the misplaced trust of the group had caused already.

  “You can say it,” Holly said. “This is an interrogation. You don’t trust me. I can understand that.”

  Hayden was amazed at Holly’s apparent ability to read his thoughts. “This isn’t an interrog—”

  “Come on, man. A spade’s a spade these days. It’s better if we’re just up front and honest. Lies don’t get anyone anywhere anymore.”

  Hayden wished that was true.

  “You say you were out there. Alone. How long for?”

  Holly puffed out her plump lips. “About ten days. Group I was with got attacked. Nothing I could do for them.”

  “You were bit ten days ago?”

  Holly looked down at her arm and a paleness swept across her face. “Yeah. That happened about ten days ago. I was fleeing the cottage I was holed up in. Sprinting through some woods when one of the bastards attacked me. Thought I was a goner. Funny how things work out.”

  She smiled at Hayden. Hayden didn’t have a clue how to read it.

  He conjured up the courage to step a little further into the room. It felt warmer in here than it did out in the corridor. He could taste the sweat in the air, thick and muggy. “What brought you here?”

  Holly scratched at her bare shins and shrugged. “Luck, I guess. I was staying in a cabin in those woods across for a while. And then … then something chased me in there.”

  “Zombies?”

  “Dunno,” Holly said, shaking her head. “Animal of some kind. Or animals. Maybe zombies. Maybe people. It was dark. I couldn’t be sure. But anyway. I got freaked, I ran. And I guess I’m lucky I ended up here.”

  Hayden tried to keep his body language as calm and unrevealing as possible. “Were you watching us?”

  “Watching you?”

  “When we first saw you. You were running at this place screaming for help. Like you knew someone was in here. Were you watching us?”

  Holly shook her head. She had a pretty face, really. Her brown eyes glowed in the
candlelight. “You’re an untrusting man, aren’t you?”

  “You’d be untrusting too if you’d been through the things we’ve been through.”

  Holly tilted her head like she was weighing up Hayden’s words. “I heard the gunshots and smelled the smoke ten days ago. The day the bite happened. I thought about approaching you, but then I figured a place firing bullets and burning shit wasn’t a place I wanted to just waltz into out of the blue. Saw you rebuilding the walls, saw you popping biter brains. Bitta caution comes in handy every now and then. But anyway, I figured you’d be moving on when you heard.”

  Hayden frowned. “When we heard what?”

  Holly looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You haven’t heard the transmission?”

  Just hearing the word “transmission” made Hayden’s skin crawl. The last transmission led him here. Led Newbie to his death. Led Clarice to her execution. “What transmission?”

  Holly whistled. “Wow. You really have been living the Amish life. When I was with my last group, we heard a transmission. Some freak signal broke through to a guy called Harry’s mobile. There was news on there. News about extraction points. One of them’s in Holyhead.”

  Hayden shook his head. “You heard a signal? That’s impossible.”

  “I’ve no reason to bullshit.”

  “Then why didn’t you … why didn’t you follow it?”

  Holly smiled and raised her left forearm. “The second anyone saw this, I thought I knew what they’d do to me. Everyone knows what they’d do to me. And hell, I guess I gave up when shit went down in my last group. Resigned myself to just—just making it on my own. And then I bumped into you people, and I’m starting to wonder if maybe there’s a chance.”

  Hayden saw the glimmer in Holly’s eyes. And although it didn’t feel like her story added up—although the talk of signals and transmissions and a ten day old bite seemed impossible—here she was, alive, talking to him with a bite wound and showing no signs of turning.

  “A chance of what?” Hayden asked.

  Holly leaned forward. “A chance to go to Holyhead. To get the hell out of here. And … and to take me with you.”