by Paul Wilcock
On our third night “together” I'm woken by the sound of beeping horns, I run out onto the balcony, I can hear the sound getting closer, it's those idiots in the Subaru again, I scream out into the darkness “Noooo! You fucking bastards, shut the fuck up!”
The car speeds past the hotel and away, horn sounding the whole time, the streets start to slowly fill with the infected again, I debate running down and attempting to get across to Natalie now before there are too many but it's already looking dicey, I've got my head in my hands, why are they doing it? I don't understand why they want the streets to be full of the infected, is it anything to do with me? I can see that Natalie has been woken by the noise too, she looks as upset as I feel, back to square one.
I'm shocked back awake by more noise, the roar of a jet and a string of explosions, I'm not sure if I'm dreaming for a few seconds but I'm out on the balcony and looking out over the city anyway, I decide that I'm awake and a plane has just dropped bombs on the city streets obliterating hundreds of infected in one go. It takes a while to register but then it all slots into place and I realise why the Subaru was drawing them out into the streets, they were the scouts and the lure, checking out the city and then gathering the infected together ready for the bombs. Natalie is up, the flames from the burning streets reflect off her window and she looks like she's burning in hell, it disturbs me and I wonder again if this is a nightmare. The jet comes screaming back through the city, I realise too late that my street will be hit on this run, I'm knocked off my feet as the bombs hit, when I scramble back up I look over towards Natalie, her hotel has been hit, the building looks heavily damaged, windows smashed, walls reduced to rubble, I pick my telescope up off the floor, check the lens is intact, spin it around to look for Natalie, fifteen agonising minutes go by but then she's there, shaken, a few cuts, but otherwise okay, I draw up a note “U OK?” and flap it around, hoping she sees. She picks up her own telescope, throws it back down, I guess it's broken, I give a thumbs up, she gives one back to confirm that she's ok, but my smile fades as I see a crowd of infected surge through the door behind her. Shit! The blast must have opened up a way into her hotel, the fires in the street forcing them in. I can't warn her, all I can do is watch, she notices just in time to turn and realise that she's about to die, I scream out in rage, but I can't look away and I see Natalie collapse under a crowd of infected as they grab and bite and tear and I can hear her screaming even though that's impossible and I vomit when I see one of them stagger backwards out of the huddle holding her leg. As I'm leaning over the balcony watching my stomach contents fall to the ground in slow motion through tear blurred eyes I realise that my own building has been damaged and is likely inviting in my own group of infected. I stand back upright, anxiety on pause for a moment as my eyes pass over the scene in Natalie's room one last time, then I'm hurrying into my room, packing up as much as I can carry, fully aware that I'm currently stuck on foot, food and water takes priority over clothing and I head out into the corridor, a hammer in each hand. Down the corridor to the stairwell; I nudge the door open slowly, all clear but I can hear noises from the floors below, I peek over the railing and can see a herd slowly making its way up the stairs, looks like they are on the third floor, I run down the stairs, jumping down the bottom four steps of each flight, descending as fast as I can, so fast it makes me dizzy and I reach the fourth floor in time to meet the herd, I give one a backhanded hammer blow as I open the door to the fourth floor and run along the corridor to the back stairwell, praying that it's clear. I force myself to slow down again as I open the door to the stairwell, ready to slam it shut if there's another herd waiting but it's all clear and I can't see any activity on this stairwell either above or below me so I set off running again, reaching the ground floor and running into the barricade that had been erected to block the stairwell access by the previous group of survivors, the same barricade that stopped me from using the stairs when I first arrived here, how could I forget? I hear the door to the stairwell open above me as the following herd comes through and starts descending after me, unfortunately they fall down the stairs a lot faster than they can climb them and I need to make a decision, pull apart the barricade or head back up, I look back and forth between the barricade and the herd four times, it takes ten seconds, the herd has reached the halfway point between the second and third floor, I race back up the stairs to the first floor, burst through the door into the corridor, the herd close behind, opening the door that I just came through six seconds later. I can't remember which room the bloodbath was in and I start to open every room I reach in a panic and the gap between me and the herd closes with each mistake I make, eventually I find it and head out to the balcony, throwing the rope ladder over and down to the ground; no time to check if it's clear below, I swing over the balcony onto the ladder and the door opens as I start to descend, I glimpse the first few infected entering the room as I drop out of sight, the ladder starts to swing and shake and I look below to see another blackened and charred infected grabbing the ladder, too stupid to be able to climb but in my way none the less. I let go of the ladder and drop onto his head, knocking him sprawling, I see more gathering as I stand back up and decide to run rather than fight, running out into the street, jumping over burnt up bodies and pushing the ones still walking out of my way, every direction I turn I see danger, the cars that might have provided an escape route, all destroyed by the bombs, while a large amount of the bomb’s actual target still stand, just uglier, burnt up and naked. I run for miles trying to get out of the city but keep having to backtrack, streets constantly blocked by rubble, destroyed buildings, burnt out chunks of vehicles, groups of infected. The sky is murky and grey, the air choked with smoke and it's not long before I'm coughing up thick black lumps of phlegm, running becomes harder and harder, I need a safe place to hide until the air clears and my leg muscles aren't screaming at me anymore. It's hard to tell what the buildings are around me, their signs are burnt and covered with soot, windows smashed and interiors strewn with debris. The fourth place I try has a chest freezer and I'm so tired and it's so hard for me to breathe that I climb inside, throw out as much of the rotten food as I can and collapse back exhausted. I don't want to stay here too long as it's not exactly secure, or comfortable, but I'm out of sight and shouldn't be stumbled upon by any passing infected. I fall asleep but wake at every sound, gripping my hammer, ready to use it if the lid of the freezer opens suddenly, it never does though and I eventually fall back to sleep.
I've woken up naturally this time, can't hear anything, realise I have no idea how much I would hear from inside a freezer anyway, can't tell if it's day or night, my legs ache, I'm hungry, my throat hurts, I need a piss. I lift the lid of the freezer a crack and squint out into daylight, a daylight filtered through grey smoky air but not as thick as it was. I push the lid fully open and climb out, relieve myself against a wall, creating arcs of bright colour in the soot covered surface, a rare moment of pleasure as I create a work of “art”. I eat half a can of cold beans from the tin with my knife as I walk slowly out to the street on shaky legs, it's nice and quiet for a change and I stroll towards the edge of town, eating my beans, air getting clearer with each step and when I eventually get beyond the chaos and destruction I feel a sense of euphoria under the crisp blue winter sky and reach my arms into the sky and take in a deep breath, my lungs are still clogged with smoke though and my deep breath of clean air turns into a coughing fit and me spitting out more black phlegm.
I'm glad to be out of the city and start to think about who else is on my list, I can’t bear to think of Natalie, it hurts too much, she was so close. Now she’s gone, I need to think of something else. Where should I go next, who's nearest. Emma; Emma lives on the east coast, I have her address, or her parent’s address at least, in my old box of letters and photos and ticket stubs from when I was at University, the old box is at my parent’s house though and I haven't been there since just after the outbreak.
I'm 26, it's June
2005, all hell has broken loose and I'm driving to my parent’s house to...to do what? Save them? Hope they save me? Just be with them at the end of the world? I don't know yet but it's the only place I can think of to run to when the shit hits the fan, and it’s really hit the fan. I'm driving a white Rover Vitesse V8 with a thick red stripe along the sides, 0-60 in 7.6 seconds, I'd wanted one ever since the police visited our school when I was six years old to teach us about police work, they took our finger prints and let us play with their handcuffs, I don't know if they took our fingerprints away to put them on file or not.
My girlfriend Rachel is sat in the passenger seat, she's crying, she saw her next door neighbour get her arm torn off twenty minutes earlier and found it quite upsetting; I missed it, I was too busy swerving around the rest of the neighbourhood residents, getting out of there as fast as I possibly could. The stereo's blasting out Therapy? - Accelerator, but Rachel slams the power button and turns it off, it annoys me, I give her a dirty look that she doesn't see through her tear blurred eyes. Music helps me concentrate and I really need to concentrate on driving right now and not the various men, women and children I can see eating each other all around me. She keeps blurting out people whose houses she wants me to stop at on the way to see if they are okay. I've never heard of half of them and don't want to meet or be eaten by them now, besides I'm not driving a bus, I eventually have to tell her “I'm not driving a bus, I can't save everyone!” She just laughs and shakes her head, turning away from me, tears still streaming down her face, her laugh didn't sound like an amused laugh, more a bewildered laugh at the preposterous thought of me being a hero and saving anybody. I call her a bitch in my head and carry on towards my parent’s house, “I saved you.” I say it quiet because technically I didn't do anything heroic, we just ran to my car and I drove away from the danger, it still counts though, if I hadn't she'd have been eaten; fact.
I don't know why, but I'm surprised when we arrive in my parent's village and find the same scenes of terror, death and chaos, as the residents, people I knew growing up, tear each other apart; there's Mr Sanders eating the daughter of that girl who lived on the end of my street when I was eight, and there's the woman who works in the chip shop, dead in the street with no arms. I accelerate without realising, subconscious taking over, and have to slam on the brakes to stop outside my parent’s house. It doesn't look like anything bad has happened here but the air is filled with the sound of screaming and blood runs down the streets like it's been raining death. I get out of the car and immediately start running, the car door gapes behind me, Rachel is slow to react and is starting to panic as I get further away and the assorted neighbourhood residents get closer. I'm not thinking about her at the moment though, all I can think of is mum and dad. I burst through the front door shouting them, no answer, I run through to the kitchen, jumping over toppled lamps and broken end-tables, the kitchen floor is slick with blood and my feet slide out from under me, I slap down onto the linoleum coating my legs and back with blood. I haul myself back to my feet, panic boiling over into terror and run back through the living room towards the stairs. Rachel has caught up with me and covers her mouth as she notices the blood dripping from my clothes, I push past her leaving a bloody handprint on her white fluffy cardigan, then I’m up the stairs two at a time, shouting again “MUM!, DAD!” Still no answer; bathroom, empty and untouched, my old room, empty and untouched, mum and dad’s room, door handle sticky with blood, dead body on the floor, mum and dad laying on the bed, bite marks on dad's arm and mum's shoulder. They both sit up as I enter the room, I'm confused by the scene, ask if they are okay, they don't answer, are they in shock or something? Mum tries to bite me, Dad pushes her aside and tries to do the same, I push him backwards “It's me, Dan! Dad? What's going on?” They still don't answer, just keep coming towards me, eyes dead, mouth chewing air, grasping fingers snagging at my shirt. Shit!
Emma
I’m 27, it’s November 2006, it's been over a year since the last time I was at my parent's house and I really don't want to go back but there are contact details from my University days there that I'm going to need. I trudge on, following the road as it winds through the countryside, passing fields, woods, a stone bridge over a stream, no signs of life, or death, you could almost believe everything was normal. I listen to Bryan Ferry – Boys and Girls album, walk at a steady pace, unsure how long I'll be travelling on foot, vehicles few and far between, the ones I have seen unusable, no fuel/burnt out/full of dead squishy remains or a combination of the three. As I pass by another small area of woodland I think I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn to look, stand perfectly still, pause my iPod, wait for movement or a sound; nothing. I continue walking but remove the earphones from my ears, hyper alert, a few steps on and I'm sure I see movement again, turn quickly, possibly something ducking behind a distant tree, it happened too fast for me to be sure, now my blood is pumping. I check behind me for a few seconds even though I haven't noticed anything on that side of the road and then continue walking, faster now, head turned to the right, watching the trees. I definitely see something now, low, and darting from one tree to another, I can't tell if it's an animal but have to rule out infected, it moved too fast and with a purpose.
The only thing that scares me more than infected is survivors; Fast, unpredictable, paranoid, crazy, horny survivors. The movement has stopped again and I slowly remove the bag from my back and put it on the ground, all the time keeping my eyes on the trees, I open the bag and reach inside; feeling for the gun I found in the hotel. My fingers curl around the handle and I slowly remove it, placing it inside my jacket, keeping it hidden from any eyes that might be watching from the trees. I zip up the bag and sling the strap over my shoulder. Moving down the road, there's a break in the trees up ahead where a railway track cuts through the woods, unused for years, it probably was used for hauling rocks from the quarries rather than passengers, the road goes under the track through a short tunnel, for a moment I can't tell if the tunnel is empty or not, it’s too dark to see but as I get closer and the road bends slightly I can see straight through to the other side and it's clear. I'm moving faster now and the movement in the trees becomes more obvious, less stealthy, twigs snapping underfoot, rustling of leaves, a group of four Magpies takes flight from the trees, disturbed by the commotion beneath them. I take a look over my shoulder and can see two figures moving and jumping through the undergrowth alongside the road, I break into a sprint, they do the same. The tunnel should buy me some time, my pursuers will either have to climb the incline up and over the tracks or climb over the barbed wire fence that separates the road from the woods. In the tunnel the temperature drops a few degrees, the air is damp, the ground wet, halfway through I see two silhouettes appear in the brightness of the other side. I stop, surprised that they managed to get to the other side ahead of me, but then the sound of footsteps behind me makes me turn and I see my pursuers entering the tunnel behind me, the glint of a blade before they exit the sunlight, the rhythmic pounding of a baseball bat against a palm, I’m surrounded.
The four of them close on me slowly, weighing me up, everybody is wary of strangers, even the psychos. I grip my hammer in my left hand and slowly pull out the pistol with my right. I have four bullets, four targets, I've never fired a gun before, my chances of killing all four in a dark tunnel are slim; there's always a chance that they'll be scared off when I start firing though. They are getting close now, none of them have spoken, they don't need to, why ask for someone to hand over their belongings when you can just take them. I wait until they are around five steps away then raise the gun and fire, the noise is deafening in the tunnel and my hand jerks up, the bullet bouncing off the tunnel wall, well wide of its target. The group moves faster around me now, crouching low and circling around to my sides. The one behind me with the blade rushes forward slashing and I turn and shoot without aiming, he screams and drops to the ground clutching his leg. I stamp on his face and swing my hammer down in
to his skull. The baseball bat hits me in the side of the head and sends me staggering, sprawling on the wet floor of the tunnel and they pounce like a pack of hyenas, kicking at me and pulling my bag and weapons out of my grasp. I fire the gun again as they try to pull it from my hand, they run and I fire again, miss again. They manage to take everything from me except my gun that now has no bullets, the water bottle attached to my belt and the contents of my pockets which includes my iPod, a packet of dry roasted peanuts and the keys to the Scirocco I left burning in the streets near the hotel. I stand and walk over to the one that I downed, pick up his blade, it's nothing special but better than nothing so I keep it, search his pockets but he has nothing more to take. I remove his shirt, tear off a strip and tie it around my head which has started to drip blood from where the bat hit me. I emerge from the tunnel, gun still in hand, not sure if they're watching me, waiting to finish me off. I can't see any sign of them and can't tell which direction they might have gone in so I have no choice but to continue following the road and hope my luck changes soon. I take out my water bottle, take a swig, rinse it around my mouth and swallow, I shake the bottle, check how much is left, just under half, take another swig, the wind blows cold across the fields as night starts to draw closer and as it does it plays a low mournful note on the open bottle, the sound gives me goose bumps, or maybe it's the drop in temperature, I screw the top back on the bottle and continue walking.
