by Ryan Casey
Hayden still couldn’t believe it, still couldn’t understand how close he’d come to walking away from Sarah.
But he didn’t have time to dwell because more zombies were flooding towards them.
He rushed over to Sarah’s body.
Crouched down by her side, fighting the fatigue, the hunger, the agony.
Holly got to Sarah’s other side. Rain lashing down now. Making visibility difficult. “On three,” she said. “One …”
Memories of Gary flashed through Hayden’s mind.
“Two …”
Leaving him behind to die. To save himself.
“Three!”
Hayden lifted.
He lifted and Holly lifted.
He thought he felt something split in his lower back. Something crack. Expected his body to tumble down like a Jenga tower.
But it didn’t.
He was on his feet.
Holly was on her feet.
Sarah was in their arms.
“Where now?” Hayden asked.
Holly looked over her shoulder. The dozen or so infected still staggering their way. Still growling at them. Still getting ready to feed.
“Anywhere but here,” she said.
And then, Sarah in their arms, the pair of them walked.
They walked, but Hayden couldn’t shake the image.
Couldn’t shake the emotion he’d felt when he stood over Sarah’s body.
The temptation to just walk away. To just leave.
He wanted Sarah to move. Wanted her to make a sound. Just something to give him a sign that she was okay. That she was hanging on in there.
But she didn’t.
She didn’t move a muscle.
Blood dripped from her orifices and down Hayden’s coat, down onto the road.
A reminder of the bloodshed he’d nearly caused.
Of a friend he’d almost given up on.
Again.
Twenty-Four
When Hayden and Holly rushed inside the partly-open garage door, Sarah still hadn’t moved a muscle.
They climbed underneath the doorway. Into the darkness, into the dust. Knew it was risky. Knew there was every chance a group of zombies would be waiting inside, just waiting to tear them apart.
But anywhere was better than outside.
Outside with the approaching infected.
Outside, with certain death following their every step.
“You got it?” Hayden asked.
Holly pulled the handle of the garage door. Tensed. Pressed all her weight against it.
“I’ll give you a—”
Hayden didn’t need to help Holly out.
The garage door slammed shut.
Darkness filled the garage.
There was complete silence for a few moments. Nothing but the rattling echo of the garage door. Of the heavy breathing of Holly. Listening for a groan. A gasp. A sign of life—or death—inside this garage.
Something they could do without right now.
Something they could do without forever.
“How is she?” Holly asked.
Hayden leaned over Sarah, squinting and trying to get a better view in the darkness. The tiniest of openings in the metal garage door gave him the slightest bit of visibility, but it wasn’t great. “Could do with some night-vision goggles.”
“I’ll let you know if I find any lying about.”
“Good luck with that.”
He pressed his hand against Sarah’s chest and prepared for the worst. She was still. She was silent. She had been silent for so, so long.
But he had to hope. He had to hope she’d pull through.
He wasn’t going to give up on her.
He’d almost given up on her and he hadn’t liked the feeling it gave him then. The intense guilt. The self-loathing.
No. He was going to fight. He was going to fight for her with everything he had.
Because that’s what he was now: a fighter.
Not a self-defender, but a fighter.
And he’d do everything he could to make sure those around him didn’t fall.
“Feel a pulse?” Holly asked, her voice making Hayden jump.
Hayden waited. Held his shaky hands against her chest. Then moved his fingers to her wrist. Looked for a sign. Always had been shitty at first aid, that kinda thing. Hadn’t really needed it in his life at all in truth. Not something that had ever come in handy.
Could’ve done with some advanced knowledge right now.
Or even some basic knowledge would’ve been nice.
He moved his fingers around Sarah’s soft wrist. Her skin felt … different. Like the difference between a stuffed animal and a real animal. Nothing radically different in appearance, sure. But just a feeling. A feeling that something was wrong. A sense that something was amiss; something was off.
Sarah felt like the stuffed animal right now.
“I … I can’t—”
“Did you hear that?”
Hayden hadn’t. He hadn’t heard a thing. “What?”
Holly was quiet.
“Holly? What—”
“Ssh.”
“What did—”
And then Hayden heard it.
The clattering.
The footsteps.
“I think there’s someone in here with us,” Holly said.
Hayden listened. Listened some more. Nothing but silence now. No clattering. No footsteps.
“You want to check it out?” Holly asked.
Hayden thought about saying yes. Thought about responding. Telling Holly to stay here with Sarah.
But he’d made a vow.
Made a vow to himself never to let anyone go.
Never to turn his back on anyone again.
But also, never to let anyone put themselves at risk for his own survival.
“No.”
“I’ll go—”
“No,” Hayden said. “We stay here. Until we—”
“Until we what?”
Hayden looked down at Sarah. Looked down at her body. Her paling skin almost luminous in the slightest of light.
“I’ll go, Hayden. I can look after myself. Certainly did a decent job looking after you back there on the road.”
Hayden thought back to the way he’d stepped back from Sarah. The way he’d given up. The way he’d listened to Holly and walked away.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Don’t have to thank me,” Holly said, standing, kicking up dust.
“No. I do. For … for Sarah. You didn’t have to … to come back. You didn’t have to help. But you did. Thank you.”
Holly didn’t respond.
And Hayden couldn’t see how her face changed in this darkness. Couldn’t gauge her reaction.
She just crept away into the back of the room.
Into the unknown.
Hayden turned back to Sarah. Put a hand on her forehead. Cold. So icy cold he had to pull it away in an instant. He moved his hand down to her neck. Tried to feel a heartbeat. But it was difficult. Difficult with the numbness of his hands. With the fever running through his body.
He put his hand on Sarah’s neck and he felt it.
Not the movement of a heartbeat.
But a sudden twitch.
A twitch of the muscle in her neck.
Hayden moved his hand away. His stomach turned to mush. His heart picked up. If this was it—if this was the moment Sarah came back—then he had to do what he had to do. He had to put her out of her misery.
And then he knew he’d probably end up joining her. Because if Sarah turned then the virus was airborne. It’d pass on to him. On to Holly. On to …
“Hayden?”
He heard the voice and at first he thought it was Holly. But it came from underneath him. Yet it couldn’t be Sarah. Because Sarah was unconscious. She was unconscious and—
“Hayden? Is … is that you?”
But it was Sarah’s voice.
Sarah was talking to him.
<
br /> Sarah was alive.
He reached down. Wrapped his arms around her. Squeezed her tight, not caring about whether the virus was airborne or not, not caring about anything other than Sarah being alive.
She’d pulled through.
She’d made it.
“Ow,” she said. “Shoulder still …”
“Sorry,” Hayden said, backing away. He wiped a tear from his face. “Sorry. I just—”
“What happened? Where—where are we?”
“It’s—it’s okay,” Hayden said, adrenaline rushing through his system, still unable to believe Sarah was alive. That she’d made it. Pulled through. “It’s okay. That’s all that matters. It’s—”
“Hayden,” Holly said.
Her voice came from behind.
Echoed through the darkness.
He turned. Looked over to where she was. At least, where he thought she was.
Saw her faint silhouette in the darkness.
“She’s made it,” Hayden said. “Sarah, she’s made it.”
Holly didn’t say anything.
Not for a moment.
Then, “There’s something … something over here. Something you need to see. Right now.”
Twenty-Five
Hayden wasn’t sure what to expect when Holly told him he needed to see something.
But when he saw it—when he understood exactly what it was she wanted him to see—the sense of dread and fear lifted.
In its place, hope emerged.
“Bit dusty, but looks in decent shape,” Holly said. “I reckon it’ll do the trick.”
Hayden looked ahead. Squinted in the darkness.
The metal.
The glass.
The tyres.
A car.
“What about petrol? Stuff like that?”
Holly tutted. “It’s a garage, Hayden. If a garage has one thing in abundance, it’s petrol.”
“And cold pasties,” Hayden added.
Holly narrowed her eyes as she opened the car door, leaned inside. “Yeah. Those too.”
Hayden and Sarah walked around the other side of the car. Silver Honda Civic. Hard to tell the condition in the darkness, but it seemed in good nick.
It smelled fresh inside. Like fresh leather. A new car smell. Not a smell Hayden was too accustomed to having never learned to drive, but a smell he’d experienced in plenty of other cars over the years. His mum’s cars. His dad’s cars. His sister’s cars. His old friends’ cars.
Everyone’s but his.
Holly sat in the driver’s seat. Searched around for a key, for something to get the car started, to get it up and running. By Hayden’s side, Sarah stood. She was weak. Shaky. But she was standing. She was standing and she was alive and that was something.
That was everything.
“Weird obsession with The Corrs,” Holly said, leafing through the CDs in the glove compartment.
“What’s up with The Corrs?” Hayden asked.
Holly side glanced at him. “I’ll pretend you never asked that question.”
“There’s—there’s some keys,” Sarah said.
Her voice surprised Hayden. Startled Holly too by the looks of things.
Hayden looked at her. “What d’you mean there’s—”
“Over by the door,” Sarah said, raising a hand and pointing across the room. “There’s … there’s a bundle. Over there. See.”
Hayden looked over at where Sarah was pointing. Didn’t see anything. Not at first.
And then he saw them.
Saw the keys dangling from the cork board through the smashed frosted glass of an office door.
Waiting for someone to pick them up.
Waiting for the group to take them.
Luring them in their direction …
“I’ll go,” Holly said, climbing towards the car door.
“No,” Hayden said. “I’ve … I’ve got this.”
“But I thought you—”
“In and out. As quickly as that.”
He started to walk towards the door, away from Holly and Sarah before either of them could protest some more.
“The noise,” Holly said. “The … the noise we heard before.”
She didn’t turn it into a question. Didn’t have to. Hayden got the suggestion.
But still he kept on walking.
“I’ll be back in no time. You just … just make sure that the car doesn’t go slipping through our fingers.”
He tensed his fists.
Walked closer and closer to the door.
When he reached it, he heard glass crunch under his feet. Something else, too. Something slippery. Something damp.
He didn’t have to look at the floor to know that it was blood.
He just had to get through that door.
Get the keys.
Get out.
He held his breath and he reached up to the door. Pushed it open as gently as he possibly could, desperate not to make it creak, eager and determined to resist alerting anyone—anything—to his presence.
The door opened up.
Made the slightest squeak as it moved on its rusting hinges.
And then the keys were just metres away.
Just metres away, nothing stopping Hayden reaching them.
He wanted to just rush over to them, to snatch them from the wall and get the hell out of here. But he knew he had to be calm. He knew he had to keep his cool.
Because he had heard something earlier.
He’d heard something. And he knew what hearing something meant in this world. What it likely was.
He had to stay calm.
He had to stay focused.
He had to—
A sound.
A sound to his right.
Glass cracking.
He spun around. Looked into the darkness.
But no amount of squinting could help.
Too dark.
Too dark to see.
Too dark to know.
His heart racing, he turned back to the cork board. Walked. Just had to make it to the keys. Get to them. Get out of here. Didn’t matter if there was something in the room with him. Didn’t matter at all. He could leave it. He could get to the keys before it got to him.
He grabbed the bundle of keys dangling from the cork board.
Turned around.
He felt it before he saw it.
Felt the contact; the contact with something.
And then he knew exactly what it was when it pushed him back against the wall.
When it growled.
When he felt its dry skin, smelled its rotting flesh.
The zombie pressed him further into the wall. Hayden pushed back, pushed back with all the strength he had, but the zombie just kept on pressing.
Its face unrecognisable in the darkness.
Its skin cracking under Hayden’s grip.
Its teeth getting closer, closer …
Hayden lifted the heavy bundle of keys and pressed them against the zombie’s neck. Pushed as far as he could into its throat.
And as he did, he could feel the zombie’s skin giving way.
Feel it splitting apart like the skin of a grape left out in the sun.
He could feel dampness dribbling down his fingers.
Feel skin giving way to flesh.
Flesh giving way to bone.
And although the zombie kept on pushing, although it got closer, Hayden knew he wasn’t far off.
Far off ripping the zombie’s head from its shoulders.
Far off putting it down.
Far off—
He heard a splat from ahead, felt a whoosh of wind.
Then the zombie went limp.
Hayden pulled his blood-soaked hands away. The bundle of keys still in his grip.
The zombie dropped to the floor, head dangling on by a thread.
Behind it, Sarah stood. Shaky, no doubt weak, but holding a rusty wrench.
“A ‘help me’ wouldn’t’ve gone amis
s,” she said, her voice quivery. But alive. Alive. “Now come on. Rather not stick around this place.”
Hayden followed Sarah out to the car. Handed Holly the keys. Climbed inside the passenger door, letting Sarah take the back seat.
“Now’s where we pray,” Holly said, sticking the Honda key in the lock.
Turning the key.
The wait. The silent wait. For what felt like eternity.
And then …
The engine coughed to life.
Holly whooped. Sarah clapped, patted Hayden’s shoulder.
But Hayden didn’t say a thing.
Didn’t feel an ounce of celebration.
Because more zombies were staggering out of the back room.
More of them were crawling towards the car.
Too many of them.
“Better move quick,” he said, and right on cue, Holly put her foot down, accelerated ’til they reached the garage door. “Half a fucking tank too! That’ll do us just nicely—”
“The garage door,” Sarah said. And then she looked behind. Looked at the zombies staggering towards the car just a matter of metres away. “D’we have time?”
Hayden waited at first.
Waited, tried to figure out the best option.
Could only arrive at one.
“More time now than we’ll have in a second,” he said.
He grabbed the wrench.
Then he climbed out of the passenger door.
Grabbed the bottom of the metal garage door.
And with all his strength, as the cries of the zombies echoed behind, he lifted.
It didn’t budge at first. And for a moment Hayden started to wonder whether this was it. Whether this was where he died. Trying to save his group. Trying to help his friends.
Trying, and failing.
Then something clicked and the garage door raised.
At first Hayden felt nothing but relief as the bright light of outside filled the pitch-black garage.
He felt nothing but accomplishment.
Then he saw the crowd of zombies surrounding the garage entrance.
Dozens of them.
Watching.
Waiting.
Walking.
Twenty-Six
“Get the fuck back here! Quick!”
Hayden knew he had to move. He knew he had to get back to the car. He knew that if he didn’t, he’d be surrounded. Torn to pieces. Devoured.
But all he could do was stare out the open garage door at the mass of zombies staggering his way.
