A Dead Disappointment

by Birch, S. C.

  Then there was a long silence.

  “Owen? You there?” asked Jack.

  “Yeah, sorry. Just so fucking relieved.”

  “Right well stop fucking dragging us along. Grace?” asked Jack.

  “Here, sleeping, and fine. Oh, and me and Daniel are alright, too, if you care.”

  “Thank fuck. What’s happened to you lot? Where are you? And stop with the bitch-whining.” asked Jack.

  “Err, we made it to the police station. But that chopper got us. Did you see it?”

  “Yes, we saw it. But what do you mean it got you?” asked Lucy.

  “Well, err, we were shot at. Lost Other Lucy and Blue Eyes getting here and, err, well there was some zombies in here with us and it didn’t go great.”

  “Oh God…” said Emily.

  “Shit.” said Cameron.

  “Fucking hell! What about you three though? You still alright? No bites or nothing?” asked Jack.

  “We’re alright, but me and Daniel got hurt. I got shot and he got slammed into some glass. Honestly, they’ve fucked up my arm really good and Daniel’s ribs are bleeding. But it’s not the kind of thing that’s going to kill us.”

  Cameron marched up to Jack and swiped the talkie, “What we doing now?”

  “Well I think our best bet is to -”

  But then that rumbling was outside. Everyone looked out the window at the source of the noise while the building shook. Flames rose up from the ground in the distance.

  “Owen? You still there?” Cameron shouted into the talkie.

  “Yeah, we’re still fine. Wasn’t near us. Where are you anyway? What happened?”

  “Oh, err, well after I fell,” said Lucy, “we ran down an alley and, er-”

  “We’re in a flat.” cut in Cameron, “Those soldiers have just searched it. Be careful, though. We saw them shoot random not-dead people.”

  “My God. I don’t even know what to say…”

  “Well, for about the tenth time in the last two fucking weeks or whatever it’s been, what we doing now?” asked Cameron.

  “Yeeeeeah, not sure about to say about that either. If those bastards are out there then I don’t really want to be caught by them.”

  “Agreed. So we’re waiting it out?” asked Cameron.

  “Think it’s our only bet just now.”

  “Oh, fan-fucking-tastic,” said Jack as he threw himself on the sofa and buried his face behind his hand, “More fucking waiting and hiding.”

  “What’s that? Didn’t hear you.”

  “Nothing.” replied Cameron, “If we’re going to wait this out then I think we should have a go of it tonight when it’s dark -”

  “That’s usually what happens at night time, Cam.” cut in Jack from behind his hand.

  Emily shook her head, “Want me to chuck a shoe at him?”

  Cameron let out a little laugh and shook his head while Jack grumbled.

  “You still there?”

  “Yeah, here. So we’re waiting till tonight?” asked Cameron.

  “Err…yeah. Everyone here’s agreed to it.”

  Cameron nodded, “We should just head straight for our cars and get the fuck out of here as fast as possible.”

  Emily couldn’t contain herself and cut in, “The fuck out of Dodge!”

  “Sounds good. Talk to you later.”

  “Lucy?” asked Maeve.

  “What’s up?” she replied.

  “Err, can I please come with you?” Maeve asked while looking at her feet.

  Jack shouted over everyone, “Obviously! We weren’t going to leave you here.”

  Maeve gripped her little knife in both hands, “No, I mean. I, err, I don’t have anywhere to go.”

  “What? You mean outside of this city?” asked Lucy.

  Maeve nodded and stared at the knife.

  “But, like, what about family or something? We can, you know, take you to them.” Emily said as she perched on the arm of the sofa.

  “My, my dad…he, eh…” Maeve shook her head continued to look at her weapon.

  “Maeve, we will take you with us. Don’t worry about that.” said Lucy, “We won’t leave you.”

  “Thank you.” said Maeve.

  “My fuck. This is just mind-numbingly wrong on every level.” said Jack who was still behind his hand, “I can’t even attempt to work out how the world has sunk so fucking far.”

  “Jack, there’s a lot you can’t attempt to work out.” said Cameron.

  “Mate! I swear to God a shoe is about to land squarely in your face!” spat Jack.

  Cameron grinned, “That would involve you moving.”

  Jack wailed out in agony, “That’s it!” he said as he stood up and marched to Cameron, “From now on you are just banned from life! No more talking! No more smarmy fucking comments! Nothing!” and as he walked back to his seat, Jack shouted, “And stay the fuck away from my sister as well.”

  Emily burst into a clearly false laughter, “Oh, Jack. You amuse me.”

  And Cameron burst into genuine laughter.

  And Jack screamed and started shouting at the two.

  “Are they…okay?” asked Maeve.

  “Yes.” sighed Lucy, “They do this a lot…”

  Daniel, Grace, and Owen.

  “Right, so, we all good to go?” asked Owen to the group.

  Grace nodded, “I think so. How are we getting home?”

  “I just spoke to the guys and we’re making a run for the cars. Nothing else. No stops and no hiding. Then we get in and leave.” replied Owen as he picked up some looted magazines and slid them into his pockets.

  “Okay. And what if we get there before them?” Grace asked and gripped her club.

  “Then we leave. We agreed not to hang around and to just go for it and meet back up at our house.” said Owen as he heaved up an RPG. Yep, that’s right. He got his RPG. It had one shot, and Owen was determined to make it a good one.

  Daniel slung his heavy duffel across his shoulders, “Got ammo and weapons here.”

  “Thanks. Someone got the time?” asked Owen.

  “Err,” said Handlebar Moustache as he checked the wall clock, “ten to twelve.”

  “Okay,” nodded Owen, “we agreed to leave bang on midnight so we can get to the cars at the same time…ish.”

  Everyone got suited and booted. They took all the ammunition left in the station and walked up to the doors.

  “Right, guys.” Owen said, “This is our last push. Keep it together and keep moving.”

  Day Nineteen

  There had been a long talk and a lot of back and forth between the two separated groups. This is what they had decided:

  That slowly and silently was the way to do it.

  They would head straight to the Tomkins Hotel and take no detours.

  The first group to reach the cars would leave and not wait for the other.

  If someone is bitten, you either cut off the limb, or if the bite is torso or face related, you give them a quick and merciful killing.

  That was the plan.

  Owen had his own plan; he wanted to get Daniel and Grace to the cars safely. He didn’t believe he was going to make it through this. But he could fight for those two if not himself.

  And at a little after midnight, the two groups left their safety.

  Daniel, Grace, and Owen

  Owen and Daniel were the first to leave the doors. And to their astonishment, the streets were movement free.

  Owen led the way forwards. His shoulder and arm pounded with pain and he could feel a sharp tugging. He knew there was a bullet lodged in there, and his arm had bled through the rags he had tightened it with.

  Owen had both the RPG and gun strap on his good shoulder. The traveling was hard. Every step was calculated and slower than he was happy with. The flickering orange from street lights above lit the path for them, but it was difficult to see ahead.

  Daniel was bleeding from his side. But the pain wasn’t all that bad. More like an
overly persistent stitch. He had a gun in both hands - one hand on the trigger and the other on the barrel - his rusted, antique and crusted-with-blood golf club in his belt, and a police baton beside it.

  Grace. Poor, poor Grace. She could hardly cope. She clutched her equally rusted, antique and crusted-with-blood golf club in both hands and close into her body. Out of them all, Grace was undoubtedly the most terrified of both groups. Even more so than sixteen-year-old Maeve. Grace’s greatest fear in life was to be alone. Specifically: abandoned. Left behind and cast aside. Rationally she knew that the group splitting was nobody’s fault. But the irrational Flight part of Fight or Flight kept plaguing her. So Grace followed behind Daniel and Owen implicitly, never taking her eyes off them so she wouldn’t be abandoned again.

  Owen heard the air slicing overhead and felt that rumbling in the back of his teeth and through to his stomach again so ran for the nearest building. His comrades followed. They pressed their bodies hard against the wall. All seven of them (Blondie, Handlebar Moustache, Mutton Chops, and Anorak had survived also) huddled down in the darkness.

  Owen watched as three helicopters circled above them. He could hear heavy boots running along the ground to the west and the sound of engines from the east, and both getting closer. Owen grabbed Grace’s hand and pulled her round the building until they stood in a narrow street under a bridge. Either side of the road was lined with old shops. The bridge overhead acted like an umbrella, hanging over and keeping this little section of the city dry and dark.

  Owen pulled himself and Grace into a doorframe. They crouched down, and Owen looked around for a way out. But he couldn’t see anything. All he could hear was the soldiers surrounding them. Daniel came along then. He perched in front of Owen and Grace and looked at their current hiding spot while the last of their group caught up.

  Across the street Owen could see a dimly light entrance with a flight of stairs leading down, it was the only exit. He did NOT want to go down there, but engines and boots kept getting louder. Owen pointed over. Daniel nodded, and they crept along the road and climbed down the small flight of stairs. The walls were tiled with speckles of both green flakes and dark blood. The stairs opened into a wide and long tunnel underground, and ahead, Owen could see electronic barrier gates, but nothing beyond that.

  “Does anyone know where we are?” he whispered, looking through the darkness.

  Handlebar Moustache crept up to him, “We’re in the train station. If we go along there then we can come up the other side. It’s a shortcut.”

  Owen felt a stream of fear flow through him. He shuddered as a cold slid along his skin. “You never go through a train station when shit like dead people attacking happens!” he whispered.

  “But, Owen,” said Daniel, “if it gets us there faster -”

  “We’ll also get there a little bit fucking deader!” Owen barked, then he went silent. He held his breath and listened. Hoping his bout of shouting hadn’t attracted the dead.

  In the darkness, he could hear metal scrape along the tiles.

  Owen swallowed hard and shook his head, “Nope! We’re not going through there.”

  “But,” said Handlebar Moustache, “this station is really easy to get out of. At the end of this tunnel, there is a short set of stairs and then another literally a five second walk away and then you’re actually in the station and there’s five exits up there.”

  Owen continued to shake his head, “Nope.”

  “Owen, we’re wasting too much time down here. We need to go.” said Daniel.

  “Then,” replied Owen, “we go back the way we came.”

  Daniel stood up and turned on the torch on his phone, “I’m going through.”

  “And me.” said Anorak.

  Handlebar Moustache walked in towards the darkness.

  “Please! We can’t split up!” whispered Grace to anyone who would listen.

  And Owen felt that fear strip away his insides. But he was out of options. Owen wasn’t the leader of this group, and he didn’t want to be left alone. That would be pointless since he was sure he was going to die anyway.

  He grumbled and let out a low growl, “Fuck it. Come on, Grace.”

  Owen gripped her hand as he slid his feet along the tiles. The darkness swelled around them and pushed down. He could only scarcely see those ahead of him. They looked like crawling shadows. Owen pulled Grace along until they reached the electronic barrier. He picked her up and lifted her over them before climbing over himself. Owen’s hand was instantly grabbed and the two of them started walking.

  The darkness thickened. The light behind abandoned them. The torchlight ahead thinned. The floor changed. It was rough and Owen’s feet stuck to it. He swallowed hard. Grace pulled in closer. He concentrated on that. On her warmth. Using it to combat the unwavering cold and darkness. Scurrying feet scratching at the sticky floor appeared in front of them.

  Grace stopped. Owen tugged her hand and continued pulling her forwards. The footsteps ahead seemed further away, then Daniel disappeared from his strained vision. Owen wanted to call to them, but he couldn’t use his throat. It was seized, unmoving. So he sped up, until the tip of the RPG clinked against the tile wall. It echoed through the darkness. Owen drew in his breath. He looked around and saw nothing. But he could hear footsteps. Owen followed them. The footsteps were faint, so Owen got faster.

  The wind stabbed cold into him. The darkness suffocated him. Owen’s foot pressed down on something large and soft. He climbed over the body through his blindness. His foot found another soft mass. Grace was behind him again. Owen pulled her forwards, then he stepped down on something. It was soft but deflated the moment his boot found it, and Owen hoped to god it was a rat.

  Then, ahead of them, a morsel of light. Owen quickened his step. The light widened. The darkness lessened. He could see his comrades by a static escalator. Daniel was stood, gun ready, looking for the two and once he spotted them, he nodded and started climbing.

  Slowly and in single formation up the frozen escalators, they ascended, with Owen at the back. The dull light bursting all around them. Gun first, Daniel looked around the new height they had reached. It was empty and quiet. Owen and Grace climbed up and stood in this underground cavern, looking around. It was hard to breathe. Owen could hear grunting and moaning from somewhere, but he couldn’t place it. Grace pushed closer into Owen. She gripped his hand and trembled. And Owen hated doing it, he really did. But he let go of her and collected his gun.

  “Stay close, okay?” he whispered.

  Grace nodded and pinched Owen’s jacket at his side.

  Owen walked over the blood and the bodies. He could see them now. The flashing ticket machine screens offered enough light to tell the story of what had happened. Owen heard Grace whimper a little so moved quickly through the gore.

  They walked to the wide stairs and climbed. Owen pressed down each foot carefully. He pulled himself up through his pain. Above them was a filthy glass roof held up with metal beams. It let in the smallest amount of moonlight, but it was enough. Owen could see all he needed to as they got higher and higher. But he could hear hissing and snarling getting louder and louder. And Owen’s heart thumped faster and faster. The stairs opened into a wide station. Trains stood abandoned by the platforms. Blood slithered along the tiled ground. And they continued to creep along. Until ahead, Owen saw a horde. Hundreds of them. The undead twitched and convulsed as they swayed on the tiles. Their arms and heads jerked erratically as they stood with their jaws apart. They moved their bodies in the most painful of manners. Every joint looked dislocated. Every bone looked displaced. Their ligaments and muscles protruding from their rotten flesh.

  Owen snatched Grace’s hand and pulled her away then climbed into a dark and lifeless train. He crawled over the bodies and crouched down low.

  He looked at Grace and she was trembling, “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of this, I promise.” he whispered, and she nodded in response.

  Daniel an
d the others reached them.

  “Is there any other way out of here?” Owen asked.

  Handlebar Moustache rubbed his namesake as he thought about it, “Only one way I can think of without going through them.”

  Owen waited and watched as the enigmatic character in front of him rubbed the glorious hair around his mouth, “Fucking what?” he spat.

  “We go along the tracks and climb down the bridge. It’s the only way I can see.” replied Handlebar Moustache.

  Daniel crept through the train, “Come on!”

  Owen held Grace’s hand the entire way until they reached the end of the train and climbed back onto the platform. They travelled along the station until it dipped down onto the tracks and continued walking when Owen realised: they were walking parallel to the tunnel they were just in.

  Owen ground down his teeth in fury, “I knew this was a fucking bad idea.” he said to himself. They had just done a complete circle for absolutely no reason. “From now on, we never go through tunn-”

  Ahead there was a grey and half fleshed body doubled up over the ground. Its spine cracked round to face the living. It dropped the half-digested pigeon in its mouth and flew forwards.

  “KKWWWWWAARRRRRAAAAARRRRRR!”

  And this is when Grace’s Fight kicked in for the first time. She ran in front of the guns and swung hard, bursting open the zombie’s skull.

  The screams of flesh-hungry undead erupted from behind them.

  “No…” said Owen.

  Daniel screamed, “RUN!”

  They sprinted along the tracks. The screams from behind approached. Owen broke the first of their rules. He looked back. The undead scrambled forwards, all of them, on their hands and feet like beasts. Owen fired the RPG at them while he ran, and the force of the weapon kicked it out of his hands. It exploded on impact and engulfed the horde in fire. The flames licked upwards and around the glass roof, shattering it. But with their charred flesh and glass shards cutting through them the dead still charged. The soldiers below the bridge heard. The group ran until they cleared the station and found the bridge where they took a sharp left and started sprinting down a narrow set of metal stairs.

  Anorak reached the bottom first and fled from the undead wails when she was gunned down. Her body was thrown up the street and blood pooled around her coat. But the zombies were now more distracted by the gunfire and ran to the other side of the bridge, cascading down and attacking the soldiers that had appeared. The remaining six ran in the other direction, still being chased, and towards the hotel again.