“So the plan is for you to lure them away,” said Gordon, “then me, Joan and Junior run to your old caravan and grab the food and transport it back to this one?”
Marvin nodded the once with a smirk.
“Let's hope you manage to lose them, so you can get your arse back here.”
Joan wasn't sure about Marvin's plan. “You might just end up bringing them back, and if they see you coming back to this caravan we'll all be fucked.”
“I know.” Marvin nodded. “That's why I'm not coming back.”
“What do you mean?” Joan looked at Marvin with suspicion. Was this another one of his sick jokes? “Why are you acting the nice guy all of a sudden?”
“No point all of us starving to death if one of us can try and do something about it. And besides, I'll probably get away, it just means all I'll have for protection is that shitty jeep until I come across a place.”
“Maybe once the dust has settled, you could come back here,” said Gordon.
“And you two would love that, wouldn't you?” Marvin said with sarcasm.
“No,” Joan said with a cheeky smile.
“Look, are you sure about this?” Gordon asked.
Marvin nodded. “I'll make sure they don't see me leave when I go. I don't want to be putting you guys in any danger.”
Gordon and Joan glared at one another, realising that this wasn't some sick joke of Marvin's. He seemed genuine, and the pair of them were impressed by his selfless act.
Junior appeared from the bedroom and had heard everything that had been said. He walked with slow steps towards the uncle he hardly knew and stopped once he was near him. Gordon and Joan stepped to the side and watched as Junior gave his uncle a hug. Marvin responded, but he responded awkwardly.
“Good luck,” Junior said.
Marvin nodded and then went over to the window and had another look outside. “It may take minutes or it may take hours for a safe gap to occur, but as soon as it does, I'm off. I'm gonna leave at the back of the caravan, through the bedroom window on the right. At least then they won't know where I've come from.”
Nobody responded to Marvin's mini speech and the only adult Dickinson left continued to peer out, careful that he wasn't spotted. The Runners were scattered around the site, but there were three that were near the jeep. It was too dangerous to go out just yet.
Marvin sighed and said, “Let's speed things up.”
“What do you mean?” Gordon wasn't sure what Marvin meant.
Marvin Dickinson grabbed an empty ashtray from the table that was in the middle of the room, and walked to the bedroom where they were hiding before. Marvin looked out of the window before opening it, making sure it was clear, and then threw the ashtray in the air, going over the caravan in front of him. The ashtray had hit the side of a caravan that was behind the one he could see, and then he went back to the living room to see if it made any difference.
The Runners were dispersing from the jeep after hearing the noise, and Marvin raised a smile. He looked at Joan, Gordon and Junior, and announced, “Time to go, kids. Wish me luck.”
Chapter Twenty Seven
Marvin opened the bedroom window carefully and could see only two within ten yards of the jeep. He knew that would all change once he was in and the engine was started.
He peered out and gazed at Joan. “As soon as I leave, shut the window.”
“Don't worry,” she said with a nervous smile. “I will.”
Marvin then grabbed the keys tighter with his left hand and pulled out his knife with his right, then exited the caravan through the window and ran to the jeep. He ran at the closest Runner, which fortunately had its back to him, and stuck his knife in the back of its neck. He opened the driver's side door and jumped in, starting the vehicle within three seconds of being inside.
As he slipped the jeep into first, he pulled away as another Runner approached. It ran at the side and threw itself at the already-damaged window of the driver's side. Marvin jumped with fright and tried to look out of the cracked windscreen as he drove away. He could make out two of them in front of the jeep, but the rest were pursuing the vehicle from the side. Marvin could see the entrance up ahead and was unsure whether going around the two coming his way would slow his progression down. Would he be better off just going through them? Would going round the two put himself in danger from the many dozens that were approaching from the side, as well as the ones that were now behind?
“Fuck it!”
He applied more pressure on the accelerator pedal and knew that the only thing in his way from leaving was the two Runners. He decided to take them out and hit the gas pedal, putting the vehicle into a higher gear.
He winced a second before impact, and felt the two bodies hit the front of the jeep, both bodies going under the wheels. He checked the rear view mirror and saw dozens of them running after the jeep, only a matter of yards away.
Marvin exited the site and turned left, aware that dozens of them weren't far behind. He played it cool and kept the vehicle at forty whilst taking the hazardous bends, then booted it when an open stretch of road could be seen.
He checked the rear view mirror, as the speedometer crept past sixty, and could see the herd of Runners getting smaller as the vehicle increased its speed. He didn't know how many were behind. Maybe twenty. Maybe thirty.
He dipped his shoulders and tried to look through part of the windscreen that wasn't damaged. He pressed his foot harder as the road straightened and looked clear up ahead. He could see a junction further on and knew turning right would lead back into Blanchland. He slowed down and put the jeep into third, turning left, unsure whether the Runners behind would still be following him once he had reached the junction. Maybe some would turn right and go back into Blanchland.
He went over a brow of a hill and saw signs to places he had never heard of before. He went straight ahead, heading into Waskerley, and turned his vehicle around a left bend.
“Fuck.”
He took his foot off the gas pedal and could see a large stretch of road ahead of him, but there were Runners heading his way. Six of them. All on the road.
He had no idea where they had come from. Another village or town, perhaps?
He brought the vehicle to a stop and pondered on what to do. He couldn't just sit there. That wasn't an option.
He had no idea if those Runners from the caravan site were still heading his way. He decided not to wait around for too long and ram the six that were heading towards him. The vehicle was a wreck anyway. Fuck it!
He pulled the vehicle away and went through the gears. By the time he reached fifty, the jeep went through the six infected humans. The vehicle juddered and Marvin cried out as he pulled his neck and banged his head on the roof, but the trauma didn't last long. It was over in seconds.
The windscreen was decorated in fresh blood, making it impossible for Marvin to see out. He looked in the rear view mirror and could see all six lying on the road. He brought the vehicle to a stop and tried to use the windscreen washer to clear the blood. Nothing came out when he tried and even the wipers weren't working.
He checked the mirror once more, then tried to kick the windscreen out of the car, but it was proving difficult. Even if he could create a hole so that he could see out properly, that would be better than nothing.
Leaning back in his seat, he tried to put the shield out with both feet, but it wasn't budging. Smothered in paranoia, he checked the mirror again and continued to try and kick out the windscreen. Marvin screwed his eyes in thought and had another look.
There were four on the floor. There were six. All four were motionless, but there was now two missing.
“Where the fuck are you guys?”
He took a quick peep in his side mirror and saw that two were running and near his door. He quickly slammed his hand on the lock to lock all doors, and pulled the vehicle away whilst the two manic Runners tried to punch and head-butt their way through the already-damaged driver's window.
As soon as Marvin managed to get to a decent speed in third gear, the vehicle began pulling further away from them, despite their efforts to catch up. Marvin was unsure what else could greet him around the next bend or in the village of Waskerley.
He took another glance in the rear view mirror and made a decision to kill the two that were following, to reduce the danger and also give him time to rest and think about what do to next for the best.
He eased off the gas and could see the two advancing. He could see both running at the jeep, both in the middle of the road. He put the vehicle into reverse and shot backwards, hitting both beings. He had run over them and now the vehicle had been stopped and he could see them in front, lying on the ground. Both were twitching as they lay on the floor and one of them was attempting to get back onto its feet. He pulled the vehicle forwards and went over both Runners slowly and stopped twenty yards later.
Seeing that it was clear all around, he took out his blade and stepped out. He walked over to the two bodies and could see both were dead. He had no idea if the four up ahead had perished when he first hit them, but these two were most definitely gone now.
The midriff of one of the males had been crushed, and the trauma to the head of the second was similar to what three strikes of what a baseball bat could do. He took a step backwards, making sure he didn't get any blood on his boots, and put his knife back into his pocket. It wasn't needed.
He returned to the damaged and now blood-soaked vehicle and drove away. He headed for the town of Waskerley and reached the place within minutes.
“Give me a break, will you?” he sighed, and then punched the steering wheel.
He hadn't reached the residential area of Waskerley and already could see nine more Runners through the cracked windscreen. They all had their backs to him, apart from one. It was staring at the jeep and must have heard the vehicle approach somehow, despite the vehicle being a fair distance from the small horde.
He turned the vehicle around and took a glance in his rear view to see the one Runner heading his way. Slowly, one by one, the rest were beginning to follow. He only had one option left now and that was to take the other road that would lead to a place of name he had forgotten.
Paranoid he could crash the vehicle by taking the country road too sharply, he kept the speed at a reasonable thirty, knowing that that was still enough to escape from the infected fucks. He cussed as he struggled to get a decent view of the road because of the damage and the blood on the windscreen.
He came to an open stretch and knew he wasn't far away from the road that was his only option left. He looked ahead and shook his head. He brought the vehicle to a stop and noisily exhaled. He was fucked now.
He pulled up the handbrake and kept the engine running. He was aware that there were nine of the contaminated humans coming from behind, from Waskerley, but dozens could he seen up ahead, and Marvin had no idea where the fuck they had come from. It didn't make sense. He was in the middle of nowhere. There should be hardly any around. Waskerley had a few, but Blanchland, a few days before, didn't have any.
It was the third week and all he had done so far was run.
What was the point in going on? In another three week's time, he'd still be running. Nowhere was safe. These things were still human, and it was okay someone saying that these things would starve and dehydrate like a human, but it was finding a place safe enough, with decent supplies, to stay where he could bide his time and wait for these things to eventually wilt and fade. It was easier said than done, unless you were a prepper.
He took another peep in his mirror, seeing the nine from Waskerley gaining on him, and then looked ahead, staring at the twenty or so running his way.
He pulled away and quickly cranked up the speed, moving the battered vehicle towards the horde.
“Come on, you fuckers!” He yelled and began to laugh manically. “Let's fucking ‘ave you!”
The jeep was now in fifth and he could now see the faces of the Runners. He was a matter of yards away and braced himself for a messy impact.
Chapter Twenty Eight
It had been nearly ten minutes since Marvin had left in the Hyundai jeep. Gordon Burns pulled back the blinds of his caravan and could see the body of Lloyd Dickinson, lying on the ground. Lloyd was lying on his front and the bloody hole in his head, where Gordon had struck him with his claw hammer, could be seen from the window.
Gordon released a sad sigh, prompting Joan Burnley, who was sitting on the couch and comforting a shocked Junior, to ask him what was the matter.
“We can't just leave him there,” said Gordon.
Joan looked up and asked, “Lloyd?”
Gordon nodded. “He deserves better than that. Now that Marvin has left with the Runners...”
Gordon never finished his sentence. He didn't need to. Joan knew what Gordon was going to say.
“I'll help you,” she said. “That man deserves a burial.” She then turned to Junior and told him that she would return and that she had to speak to Gordon in private. Junior was unresponsive.
Joan and Gordon were one hundred percent certain that Marvin had taken every single Runner with him when he left the place, and had no qualms that the place was safe, and both stepped outside. She opened the door and Gordon followed her out, but neither one went far. They shut the door behind them and sat on the step.
“Poor Lloyd,” said Gordon, looking over at the body.
Joan nodded. “We'll bury him soon. How do you think Marvin got on?”
“No idea, but it looks like he took every Runner with him.” Gordon waggled his head gently. “I can't believe he did it in the first place. He certainly came up trumps when we all needed him.”
“I know. I still can't believe it either.”
“If he's still alive then he'll come back ... eventually.”
“But he said that he wasn’t coming back.”
“I think he was just being melodramatic.”
“So if he's not back by tomorrow,” Joan began, “then we're assuming that he's dead or infected?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Who knows? He might have lost those Runners and decided to go elsewhere, away from us lot.”
“Away from his nephew? Away from all the food that he and Lloyd had collected? I don’t think so.”
Joan stood up and told Gordon that they should bury Lloyd behind the back of the caravan.
Gordon was unsure. “There's a spade in the back room,” he said. “Getting the turf up will be a bitch, but once that's done, it should get easier.” Gordon copied Joan and also got to his feet. “Fuck it. I'm gonna make a start. I was going to wait…”
Joan opened the main door and popped her head in. She could see that Junior was still sitting down and had his head in his hands, gently sobbing.
“Hey,” Joan softly called over, making the fourteen-year-old raise his head and look up with wet eyes, “we're going to bury your dad.”
Junior didn't respond; he just stared at Joan.
She gulped and continued, “Once we're done, we'll say a few words and…” She paused. She didn't know what else to say.
Junior at last spoke. “He's only been gone for about half an hour.”
“I know, I know.” Joan sighed and lowered her head. She felt for the teenager, she really did, but they didn't know how long the site was going to be clear for. Lloyd needed to be buried and they also had food to move from the damaged caravan.
“Why are you burying him now?” Junior snapped. There was anger in his words. “His body's still warm and you want to bury him? Already?”
Joan cleared her throat. “I know this is difficult.”
“Difficult? Oh really? Your boyfriend out there didn't hesitate putting a hammer through his skull.”
“Junior, what Gordon did prevented your dad from becoming one of them. Is that what you would have wanted? Your dad still alive but roaming around … infected? Of course it's not.”
Junior wiped his
eyes and began to rub his face with the back of his hands.
“Shouldn't Marvin be burying him, his own brother?”
“Marvin said he wouldn’t be coming back.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t mean it.”
“There're two reasons why Gordon and I want to bury him now: We don't know how long the caravan site is going to be clear for, plus leaving him out there seems so ... disrespectful.”
Joan glared at the youngster and could see from his facial changes that he was slowly beginning to agree with what she had said.
She smiled thinly at the youngster and told him that she would let him know once they had finished burying his father, Lloyd Dickinson.
*
The jeep ploughed through many of the infected, and Marvin's head was thrown forwards then backwards when it came to a predictable halt.
However, it wasn't the mass of bodies that stopped the vehicle; it was the jeep swerving and crashing into a tree at the left side of the road that had stopped Marvin from progressing any further.
He rubbed his sore neck and thought for a second that he had broken it. He looked around the vehicle and couldn't see any Runners. He looked in the rear view mirror to see that many were behind and now heading his way. He stepped out and took out his knife; he winced once his feet touched the floor and could feel that the impact had damaged his left leg somehow. He didn't know if it was massive bruising or something was broken, but it certainly didn't feel right. He could see that the jeep had caused some carnage. It looked like a few were dead and there were some alive but unable to get up. There were still some of them able bodied and the confused things standing up began to run at Marvin once he was spotted.
Marvin could see that there were around fifteen heading towards him, and knew that the other nine from behind, from Waskerley, weren't far away.
“Fuck it,” he sighed. “It was a good effort, Marvin.”
He brought the knife up and turned it around. He thought about driving the blade into his heart, but despite knowing that a worse death was only seconds away, he just couldn't do it. He couldn't kill himself.
Monsterland 3 Page 11
