by Jacob Rayne
Paul’s forearms deflected most of the blows, but a couple got through, setting off anew the bleeding and pain in his nose, and making his brain vibrate in his skull. He reached up and grabbed the kid’s arms, pulling him down to get a brief respite from his frenzied assault.
Around him he heard sounds of the sunburnt insane approaching.
Sam’s strength was startling. Paul pushed up with his thumb, catching the boy in the eye. Howling, he reared back, lifting his weight enough for Paul to roll. He ended up on top of Sam and landed a couple of hard punches to his face before he came to his senses and realised that he was beating up a kid.
Blood ran from Sam’s burst lip. He stared up with a look of childish innocence that made Paul feel like an utter bastard. He relaxed and lifted his weight off the kid.
As soon as he did, Sam lunged upwards, his fingers splayed. One hand caught Paul in the throat, making him splutter as he fought to regain his breath. Sam was on him fast, his bleeding face pressed close to Paul’s ear.
Paul screamed as Sam’s teeth sunk into the soft flesh of his cheek. He shoved at Sam’s face, but the action made the pain worse, so he stopped. Sam’s teeth sunk deeper, making blood run down Paul’s face. The pain was excruciating.
The boy was growling and shaking his head. His bite sunk in further, then he pulled away hard, tearing off a section of Paul’s cheek. Paul screamed again but now the pain was making him angry.
He shoved Sam as hard as he could and struck out with his knee, catching the kid in the groin. He knew he couldn’t give Sam another chance. Sam doubled up for a second then snarled. Blood coated his lips. The flap of Paul’s cheek clenched in his teeth fluttered in the breeze.
Paul connected with a hard punch that knocked Sam down. The back of his head struck the tiled floor hard, making him emit a high-pitched cry.
Paul heard other cries from the surrounding area, as if in answer to Sam’s cry. He had to shut the kid up, and fast.
He punched Sam again, the impact sending a jolt up to his elbow. Sam went limp for a second. Paul darted in and grabbed his shoulders.
The boy recovered fast and started moving his head from side to side, trying to bite Paul’s hands. Paul kept his grip on him but avoided being bitten as he dragged him to the swimming pool.
Sam seemed to realise what was going on and his struggles intensified. Paul saw the boy’s mouth open and put his hand over it to muffle the cry he knew was coming. Sam bit down on the palm of Paul’s hand, drawing blood and sending waves of pain spiralling through his body.
He held on despite the agony, knowing that the crazies were close enough to hear the kid’s cries. He flung Sam into the pool, sending miniature eruptions of water into the warm air. Paul tucked the machete into the waistband of his shorts then dived in and swam towards the small thrashing form in the centre of the pool.
He reached Sam and hauled him up with his left hand. His right hand delivered a sledgehammer punch to the boy’s jaw. Sam spat blood. Paul held him tight and hit him until he stopped struggling then grabbed his head and dunked it beneath the water.
Sam gave a final weak protest then fell still. His body bobbed up and down in the water. Paul felt disgusted with himself in spite of the kid’s crazed attempts to kill him.
He stood up out of the water then swiftly ducked under again when he saw the bunch of crazies approaching the pool.
SEVEN
‘We’re going to have to climb,’ Cheetah said, pointing behind them to the tall fence topped with barbed wire.
Janet groaned, doubting her injured leg would be able to take the climb.
‘Get going,’ Billy said. ‘We don’t have much time.’
Cheetah didn’t need to be told twice, setting off up the fence at a furious pace.
The crazies were only a few feet away now. Billy picked up a length of wood from the floor beside him and thrust it forward. The sharp tip penetrated the nearest crazy man’s throat and sent him falling. The crazies tripped over his body in their haste to get to the three survivors.
Cheetah was almost at the top of the fence and he paused to take a couple of shots at the milling crowd below him. His bullets tore holes in two of the maniacs, dropping their lifeless carcasses to the floor.
Billy lifted Janet and shoved her up the fence. She clung on with her fingers and toes, the chain-link already hurting her digits. Her leg was still next to useless.
She cried out in frustration.
‘Come on, lady,’ Cheetah shouted from the other side.
Janet clung to the fence, immobile.
Billy narrowly avoided having his face cut open by a slashing blade, then ran at the fence. He jumped and caught the chain-link in his fingers and pulled himself up. Already he was the same height as Janet.
The crazies rushed the fence, nearly tearing Janet’s fingers from the thin metal links. Billy adjusted his weight and kicked down at a grinning old man who was intent on grabbing his legs and hauling him from the fence.
The boot smashed the old man’s nose and tattooed the imprint of the sole on his forehead. Though he stumbled back there were already another two lunatics to take his place.
When the hands gripped Janet’s calves she was too scared to even cry out. Billy tried to adjust his weight further, to get another kick in, but he was forced to climb up the fence when another pair of crazies went for his legs.
Cheetah lined up a shot but hesitated. Janet was in the way and he didn’t want to hit her. Cursing, he lowered the gun.
The barbed wire wrapped around the top of the fence tore bloody furrows in Billy’s belly as he scrambled over onto the other side. He grunted with the pain, trying to push it away so he could focus on helping Janet.
‘Give me the fucking gun,’ he said to Cheetah, who was still trying to line up a good shot on the people holding Janet’s legs.
Janet’s fingers were starting to go numb from the effort of holding on to the fence. The hands tugged at her with relentless strength and energy. Finally she voiced her terror in a scream that reverberated off the alley walls.
Her injured leg throbbed as the crazies hung from it. Their breath was warm against her skin. Suddenly the pressure eased a little. Billy saw the gunman had fired at them, taking out one of the crazies holding her legs.
Billy lined up a shot and fired, hitting a male crazy in the chest. A blood stain spread on his grey t-shirt then he collapsed in a bloody heap.
‘Come on, Janet,’ Billy said.
She willed herself up the fence, kicking out with her good leg which was now free to move. Her blow knocked down a female crazy and she dragged herself up to the next link, her dead leg hanging uselessly behind her.
Cheetah was on top of the fence now and he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. Her legs now dangled a few inches above the outstretched hands of the insane mob. But it wasn’t long before the first crazy started to scale the fence.
Janet let out a groan when she realised what had happened.
Billy fired at the climbing woman, putting a deep wound in her stomach. She fell, screaming, from the fence.
Cheetah continued to haul Janet up. Her face scraped against the barbed wire and she let out a shrill cry as the barbs drew blood. Then she was clear of the wire and falling into Billy’s waiting arms.
Relief was too much for her and she let out a choked sob.
‘We don’t have time for this, lady,’ Cheetah said, indicating the snarling, sunburnt woman at the top of the fence.
Another gunshot roared past them as the crazed gunman opened fire again. They ran down the alley, hearing the crazies already on the alley floor behind them.
In spite of the horror he felt at the idea of the gang of lunatics discovering him, Paul’s attempt to stay underwater was short-lived. His lungs already burning from the lack of oxygen, his head broke the surface. He took in a deep breath and looked around.
There was one sunburnt man walking around the opposite end of the pool. Shadows from at least three more
crazies were cast on the pool.
They must be above and behind me, Paul thought. Their shadows made them look enormous. He heard their uneven breathing and low grunts.
The sound was enough to persuade him to go back under the water for a while. At least he was beneath them so he’d be harder to spot.
He stayed under for as long as he could, trying to keep watch on the group from beneath the water. The chlorinated liquid stung his eyes and distorted his vision. Already his lungs began to cry mutiny and he was forced to pop his head out of the water.
The grateful noises he made as he sucked in the warm air alerted one of the crazies, who moved forwards and peered over the edge of the poolside.
Paul was once more forced to duck beneath the surface. He saw a blurred image of the man peering into the pool. The distorting effects of the water made it look like the crazy’s face was one immense grin.
Paul felt his lungs begging for oxygen again already and he despaired. The crazy was still staring down into the water, seeming to look directly at him. If he stayed like this he couldn’t miss Paul when he resurfaced.
Paul let out a groan that sounded monstrous under the water. His head began to pulse like his brain was growing too large for his skull. He held on for another second then reluctantly stood up.
As he took a greedy lungful of air, the crazy man roared and launched himself into the water. He landed next to Paul, sending plumes of water flying into the sky. The crazies behind Paul’s hiding place screeched and looked down into the pool. They too jumped in.
Paul turned and started swimming across the pool as fast as his oxygen-starved limbs would allow him. The crazy who’d spotted him first swam clumsily, throwing water everywhere as he thrashed his arms and legs. When Paul saw the three lunatics following him, he increased his efforts and drew close to the far side of the pool.
As his hands touched the side, a shadow fell over him. He looked up to see a grinning muscular man holding a lump of blood-covered breezeblock.
Cheetah reached the end of the alley first and fired back at the crazies running towards him. Two of them fell like jousting knights knocked off their horses. Billy had his hand in the small of Janet’s back, propelling her along the alley. Her breathing was laboured and stung her throat and lungs.
Janet let out a shriek as a hand grabbed her hair and yanked her head backwards. Billy turned and planted a fist into the face of the man who had hold of her. Blood and spit flew from his mouth as he fell away from them.
Billy didn’t wait to see if he was finished, just started dragging Janet away.
‘We need to get a car,’ Cheetah said.
Billy nodded.
A car stood at the end of the block. The driver’s door was wide open.
‘It’ll have to do,’ Billy said.
They raced towards it.
The chunk of breezeblock came down towards Paul’s head. The water in the pool slowed him down, seemingly conspiring to hold him in place for the lunatic’s attack.
He went down and to his left, trying his best to avoid the blow. The strike missed his head but bounced off his right shoulder, sending pain flaring all the way down to his fingertips. He saw the rest of the crazies had almost caught up to him.
He remembered he still held the machete and swung it at the man’s legs. The crazy let out a cry that might have been funny if Paul hadn’t been so frightened and moved away from the strike. He lost his balance on the wet tiles and fell on his face. The sound of his head meeting the floor echoed around the poolside.
Paul took the opportunity he’d been given and climbed out of the pool. The fingernails of the nearest crazy scraped down his calf. He swung the machete behind him, making them take a step back.
He didn’t bother to look, just hauled himself out of the pool. The crazy with the breezeblock was still down, so he ran the blade across his throat. Hot blood splashed his legs as he hurried away.
He reached the last stretch of hotel between him and the edge of the grounds and took in a much-needed lungful of air.
The walkway between him and freedom was full of crazies, all seemingly on their own private patrols.
Groaning, he hid behind the corner of one of the apartments while he psyched himself up for the next part of his journey.
The male body slumped in the back seat of the car worried Janet a little but they were in too much of a hurry to remove it; the group of crazies following them had already neared the car. Cheetah took the driver’s seat, Janet the passenger seat and Billy sat in the back next to the body.
He eyed it suspiciously for a moment, certain that it had moved, but then he realised that it was the jolt of the car’s engine turning over that had given the body the illusion of life. Cheetah gunned the gas pedal and brought the clutch up fast. The car jolted forwards and stalled.
‘Fuck,’ Cheetah shouted, punching the dash. He turned the key again.
Cheetah cried out in alarm as hands grabbed the driver’s door and pulled it open. Janet leaned across and lashed out with the hatchet. The blow took off the hand of a small, wrinkled old man who proceeded to batter the gushing stump into the window, leaving smears of blood down the cracked glass.
Another hand grabbed Cheetah and started to haul him out of the car. Only the seat belt prevented him from falling out onto the road. The crazies let out angry screeches that filled the small car.
Billy managed to lean forward and slam a fist into the face that was peering through the open door. The woman spat blood as she stumbled backwards.
Cheetah slammed the door shut and depressed the lock button. Almost as soon as he had done so, a bloody fist came through the glass, narrowly missing his face. He turned the key again. The engine thought about it then turned over.
A dozen hands reached through the broken window and grabbed for Cheetah. The car pulled away with a screech of tyres and a cloud of exhaust fumes. All three of the car’s inhabitants breathed a sigh of relief.
Cheetah drove back towards the hotel. As he turned right onto a side street, he saw a black people carrier speeding across the intersection.
Someone’s even more eager to escape than us, he thought with a smile.
The smile soon faded when he realised that the people carrier was headed straight for them.
EIGHT
Paul moved onto the long corridor that led to the exit. His hand was clammy and shaking so much that he feared he was going to drop the machete.
The sounds of the crazies filled his ears and turned his thoughts to panicked gibberings, further exacerbated by the lurching sensation of his heart attempting to pound its way through his ribcage to freedom.
The nearest lunatic was pulling the skin off a dead animal. Blood covered every inch of the demonic figure’s frame, so thick that Paul found it impossible to tell whether the whacko was male or female.
The crazy was intent on removing the animal’s hide and it made little satisfied grunts as it pulled another inch of skin loose. The noise of the skin coming away from the body was nauseating and Paul felt like he was going to bring up his lunch.
He moved around to his right, keeping the crazy’s back to him, and went up one of the whitewashed stairwells. He reasoned that the upper floor would be quieter and he could sneak out that way.
It was quieter, but was not without its fair share of hazards. The floor was slick with blood, showing everywhere the crazies had been. Bloody handprints adorned most of the surfaces in the narrow white-walled corridor.
The door to the nearest room was shut, but Paul could hear animalistic noises coming from inside. Drawn by morbid curiosity, he cupped his hands to the window and peered through the glass. On the bed, a blood-spattered naked man was kneeling between the spread-eagled legs of a woman’s corpse. He thrust into the body, grunting in satisfaction. Each movement of his hips made the limp female body shake, moving the bloody blonde hair a little. The naked man was grinning from ear to ear.
Paul pulled himself away from the obscene sig
ht and moved down the corridor. Louder noises came from one of the rooms, filling him with utter dread.
The machete felt small and inconsequential in his palsied hand. He felt like he may as well have been carrying a feather duster.
The cacophony in the room became louder and Paul ducked into one of the open doors when three blood-smeared, screaming women burst out of the room and ran down the corridor towards him.
He hid under the bed and waited for them to pass.
The people carrier’s approach was too fast for any course of action to be of consequence.
Cheetah threw himself onto the passenger seat a split second before the huge black vehicle hit the driver’s side of the car in an orgy of broken glass and twisted metal.
Billy and Janet were thrown sideways by the impact and their heads collided with the windows. The corpse was flung onto Billy, its head almost punching a hole in his sternum. For a second Billy was too stunned to move, and the body’s cold flesh pressed onto him. Repulsed by the feeling, he shoved the body away.
‘Holy shit,’ Cheetah managed to say. Blood ran down from a deep cut above his left eyebrow.
‘Everyone ok?’ Billy asked.
Janet groaned and rubbed her head.
They quickly ran their eyes over the scene. The driver’s side doors were buckled into the car, in the shape of the people carrier’s front end. Broken glass glittered in the wreckage. The body slumped on the back seat between Billy and the mangled door.
Steam hissed as it escaped the shattered radiator.
‘We should get out of here,’ Billy said, shaking away the fuzz that had started to settle over his thoughts.
‘I agree,’ Janet said.
Just as they started to move to escape the car, the people carrier’s horn honked.
They turned to stare at the black behemoth. In the driver’s seat sat a fat man who wore a shit-eating grin as he wiggled his fingers at the stricken trio. Then he reversed back from the car. The metal squealed in protest as the people carrier pulled back, almost as if the vehicles were happier as one imperfect form.
