Rain

by Shaun Harbinger

  Contents

  Title Page

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty one

  twenty two

  twenty three

  twenty four

  twenty five

  twenty six

  twenty seven

  a word from Shaun Harbinger

  RAIN: A ZOMBIE NOVEL

  by Shaun Harbinger

  Copyright 2014 Shaun Harbinger

  All Rights Reserved

  All characters are works of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons living, dead or undead is purely coincidental.

  one

  I felt like I was dying.

  Mike and the girls strode on ahead of me, backpacks bobbing up and down as they marched up the mountain. They didn’t look back. They had decided long ago, almost as soon as we had left the cars and began this trudge up the mountain, that I was just slowing them down. They were right. If we did this hike at my preferred pace, the speed would be much slower than this kamikaze attack on the Welsh landscape. As it was, every step sent excruciating pain lancing through my leg muscles. My lungs hurt as my breath rasped into them, bringing with it the afternoon mist that might have tasted fresh if I could stop gasping for air like a fish out of water.

  And that’s exactly what I was. This gung-ho shit was Mike’s deal, not mine. He and Elena spent most weekends hiking or rock climbing or canoeing down some river somewhere. I spent my weekends playing video games and eating fast food. Most of the Chinese, Indian and Mexican restaurants knew the way to my house. The pizza guy had almost become a close friend because we spent so much time talking about the latest games while he was delivering my pepperoni feast and garlic bread.

  After spending weekdays at my shitty admin job, I needed to unwind during my two days of freedom.

  He might have been my closest friend, despite our differences in lifestyle, but Mike’s outdoor weekend pursuits were my idea of hell. Even though he and Elena supposedly spent a lot of their time having wild sex in the remote locations they visited, it was still too much torture for a few moments of pleasure in my eyes.

  So if that’s the way I felt, why the hell was I here now, torturing myself just to try and get to know Lucy Hoffmeister?

  Because I was a fucking idiot who should know better.

  When Mike told me that Elena was bringing her friend Lucy along for a two day trek of Wales, and asked would I like to join them, I was playing Day Z and had just eliminated two zombies and another player who had been bugging me for weeks in-game. I had been on a digital high. An image of Lucy Hoffmeister had flashed across my mind and I had said hell yeah. The image that incited this uncharacteristic reaction was one of Lucy at Doug Latimer’s barbecue last year. Lucy had arrived with Elena and I had spent most of the evening trying not to stare at her. She was perfect: cute face, button nose, blue eyes and long blonde hair that tumbled over the shoulders of her black sweater. She filled that sweater and her jeans with just the right amount of curves.

  I didn’t talk to her, of course. Nothing more than a hello when Mike introduced us. Girls like that don’t go for geeks like me. I knew I had no chance with her. Even now, struggling up this mountain while she laughed and talked with Mike and Elena up ahead, I was aware that the differences between us were an abyss that could not be crossed.

  But the image of Lucy at Doug Latimer’s house, to be exact a particular image of her in the kitchen grabbing a bottle of beer, popping it open and leaning her head back while she took a swallow from the bottle, had the power to bring me here to this godforsaken place and put myself through hell. In that moment, Lucy had seemed totally unaware of the effect she had on all the men at that barbecue. I was leaning against the kitchen counter when she took a swig of that beer and I took the opportunity to let my eyes roam over her from head to toe. That view of her standing by the fridge, leaning on her right leg a little more than the left so her hip curved out more on that side, her perfect breasts thrusting against the black fabric of the sweater, was a memory I had replayed over and over in my head many times.

  That image and my Day Z victory had betrayed me. I wasn’t meant to be here. This was not how I spent my Saturdays. I should be at home right now, controller in hand and a beer on the coffee table. And my own bed to sleep in tonight, not a cold, uncomfortable tent. I was going to feel like hell by the time I went back to work on Monday.

  And up ahead on the steep trail, the three happy wanderers ambled up the mountainside, chatting like this was a stroll in the park. I was huffing and puffing like a steam train. How could I be so out of shape? Mike was loving this, flanked by two girls while he showed off his physical prowess. Never mind his friend coming up half a mile behind everyone else, trying to not have a heart attack but at the same time wishing he were dead. I didn’t want them to wait for me. That would mean exerting myself to reach them faster while they watched me. Too embarrassing. Let them get ahead as much as they wanted. They had to stop sometime. Then I would catch up at my own pace.

  For now, I would just trundle along behind them and wish I were someplace else.

  When they finally stopped for lunch, I almost lost them.

  They reached the top of the mountain and disappeared from my sight as I scrambled up after them, driven on by the knowledge that this constant uphill struggle was about to come to an end. As I topped the trail and looked out across the broad rocky area that marked the zenith of this mountain, the three amigos were nowhere to be seen.

  I let out a breath and a muttered, “Fuck.” Relieved to be on level terrain but worried that I was lost, I walked forward a few steps and scanned the mist around me. There were dark shapes moving in the grey, figures just out of sight, but they were other hikers in pairs and in large groups, not the three who had left me on a mountainside.

  I unzipped the pocket of my jacket and took out my phone. I would have to call Mike to find out where they were. Embarrassing, yes, but not as embarrassing as being airlifted off the mountain by Mountain Rescue because I had gotten totally lost.

  There was no signal. This was a joke.

  Putting the phone away, I considered the other type of calling, actually shouting for them. But the presence of the other hikers, the same ones who had passed me on the way up here and offered sympathetic smiles and nods, stopped me. I didn’t want to look like a total loser.

  So I marched over the rocks and tried to look like I knew exactly where I was going.

  Right past everyone else and over to the other side of the mountain.

  At least the next part of this trek was going to be downhill.

  It seemed pointless, struggling up a mountain just to go back down again.

  “Alex, over here.”

  I halted and looked to my left. Sitting behind a pile of rocks, sheltered from the wind, Mike, Elena and Lucy waved at me. They had filled plastic mugs with steaming coffee from the Thermos. It smelled so good, it made my mouth water.

  I strode over to them swinging my arms and trying to look strong, as if doing so could make them forget about me lagging behind for the entire morning.

  “Grab a drink, man, you look beat.” Mike passed me a mug and poured coffee into it.

  The breeze blew the steam into my face. Looking at Elena and Lucy, I said, “You girls enjoying yourselves? It’s pretty wild up here.”

  “Yeah, it’s cool,” Elena said. “We
were thinking of picking up speed on the next part. You up for that, Alex?”

  She knew I wasn’t. I had been half a mile behind them the whole way and my bravado a moment ago hadn’t really made them forget how pathetic I was. I shrugged.

  “We don’t have to pick up the pace,” Lucy offered.

  Mike swallowed his coffee and threw the dregs across the rocks. “We do if we want to make camp before dark. Alex will be OK.” He took a plastic-covered map from his rucksack and laid it on the ground. “Look,” he said to me, “we head from here to the top of Pen y Fan. Then down to this area where we skirt around this mountain called the Cribyn. Once we get around there we can put up the tents.”

  “Why are you showing me the map? I’ll just follow you.”

  “In case you fall too far behind and lose us. Now you know where we’re going.”

  His directions and random pointing at the map hadn’t told me anything. “You could just slow down a little,” I whispered.

  “No way, man. You try to keep up. This is good for you, Alex. The military come here all the time. This is where the SAS train.”

  As if on cue, an army helicopter flew overhead. Couldn’t they take me to the Cribyn or whatever the hell it was called and drop me off there? I wouldn’t mind waiting while Mike and the girls caught up. I’d even try to set up the tents.

  “I’m not a soldier,” I said. “I thought this was supposed to be enjoyable, not a military exercise.”

  Mike stowed the mugs in his backpack and stood up. “Just pretend it’s Call of Duty,” he said, hefting the pack onto his back and adjusting the straps. “You can keep up if you try harder, Alex.”

  The girls got ready to leave with Mike. I scrambled to my feet. My legs protested but I tried to ignore the ache in my muscles. Keeping up with the group would be difficult but getting lost out here in the middle of nowhere, especially when it got dark, would be a nightmare. I doubted I could survive a night wandering around the mountains.

  “Everyone ready?” Mike asked. “Let’s go.”

  He took off like a mountain goat across the rocks.

  The girls joined him and I followed along. At least I had a pretty good view walking behind the girls.

  We descended a steep jumble of rocks then found a path that led up to the summit of Pen y Fan. My three non-companions hit their stride again and powered ahead.

  I slowed down. There was no point trying to keep up and my legs screamed in pain with every step. I unzipped my jacket and reached into the inside pocket. I had my portable digital radio in there along with a Twix bar.

  Unravelling the headphone wire and pushing the buds into my ears, I switched on the radio. At least I could have some music to take my mind off the ache in my legs. I could have listened to music from my phone but I didn’t want to run the battery down so I had turned it off after unsuccessfully trying to call Mike earlier.

  I unwrapped the Twix and bit off a mouthful. The sweet caramel taste seemed amplified out here in the wild. It was probably because I hadn’t eaten since we left the cars hours ago. The sweetness seemed to explode in my mouth.

  The radio was nowhere near as satisfying. Instead of music, all I got was a news broadcast and the signal kept cutting out. As I trudged up the path, I tried to make out what the woman was saying.

  “Department of Health issued a warning after…at the Royal London Hospital…virus strain that…previously unknown…a doctor has been quarantined…no danger to the public.”

  I flicked the radio off, disconnected it from the headphones, and stuffed it back into my pocket. Leaving the headphones in my ears, I jacked them into my phone and turned it on, finding an AC/DC album on my playlist. Screw the battery; I needed some distraction from this hell.

  Trying to let my awareness of the rock music override the awareness of my aching legs, I strode on along the trail, leaving the shadowy figures of the other hikers behind me in the mist.

  The driving rock beat helped me forget the pain in my legs for a while, or at least endure it. It lifted my spirits. Took me away from the misty damp reality of the mountains. I decided that I was going to talk to Lucy tonight. To hell with it.

  What did I have to lose?

  This was already the worst Saturday of my life.

  It couldn’t get any worse.

  I reached the top of Pen y Fan. Nothing spectacular, just more rocks and a cairn to mark the pinnacle. I looked for the path down the other side and found it easily. Things were looking up despite the fact I couldn’t see Mike and the girls anywhere. Going down the mountain was much easier than going up even though my feet ached. I couldn’t wait to get my boots off later. As unappealing as the tent sounded, compared to this endless trudging it would be luxurious.

  A noise in the mist brought me to a halt.

  I heard it over my music. It had been loud. Like someone falling over.

  I took off my headphones and listened.

  Another noise. It sounded like a growl.

  It couldn’t be. There weren’t any dangerous animals up here.

  What about a dog? Maybe some idiot hiker had brought a Doberman up here and let it off the leash.

  The growl reached me again. Low, guttural.

  I swallowed.

  If it was a dog, surely the owner was around somewhere. Maybe that was who had fallen over.

  I heard movement. To my right. It didn’t sound like a dog. Not unless dogs wore padded jackets and carried rucksacks and walked in boots.

  It was a hiker.

  Maybe it was the owner looking for his dog.

  So why wasn’t he calling for it?

  I heard another noise, behind me this time. A group of hikers coming down the trail, chatting and laughing. Maybe they would know how to deal with a dangerous dog.

  The growl came again.

  Then a quick movement. A man. Coming out of the mist.

  His face. Oh God, his face!

  He reached out for me with both hands, his yellow eyes looking like pure evil. His skin was blue, mottled, disgusting. Pure instinct sent me running backwards away from him, dodging his flailing arms.

  The heel of my boot connected with a rock.

  I tried to regain my balance.

  Fell.

  Hit the grass.

  Air rushed out of my lungs in an explosion.

  My vision filled with sky and dirt.

  Tumbling.

  two

  I scrambled to my feet, stifling the cry that rose in my throat. I didn’t know how far I’d rolled down the mountain but I wasn’t going to wait around for that crazy guy to come down after me. I ran.

  Not strictly true. It was impossible to run because of the steepness of the slope. I loped down the trail, letting gravity speed me up. Not too fast. I couldn’t risk hurtling down the mountain.

  There were no sounds behind me. All I could hear was my own breathing. I sounded like a panting dog. What if he heard me?

  Maybe those other hikers would deal with him.

  Or maybe he would deal with them. He looked crazy. Murderous.

  I should call someone. Mountain Rescue. The Police.

  Turning off the music on my phone, I tried to decide what to do. I didn’t even know the number for Mountain Rescue and what would I tell the police?

  I called Mike. Luckily I got a signal.

  “Hey, Alex.”

  “Mike, where are you? I… I don’t know what’s happening. I just got attacked by some… someone.”

  “Hey, slow down, man. Are you OK?”

  “I don’t know. Yeah, I think so. I got away.”

  I heard him tell Elena and Lucy, “Alex got attacked by somebody.”

  Then Lucy’s voice came sweetly into my ear. “Tell him we’ll wait for him.”

  “Yeah, we’ll wait for you, man. We can’t be too far ahead of you. We’ll wait here until you catch up.”

  I hung up and put the phone away. I wasn’t in the mood for music anymore and I couldn’t risk not hearing that mad hiker
if he was still coming after me. I glanced back up along the trail. Nothing but mist.

  Then a shout. A scream. A roar of anger.

  I fled as fast as I could.

  I hit level ground and kept running across the grass. My lungs burned. Tears streamed out of my eyes and I wasn’t sure if I was crying or if the exertion was making them water. My mind was filled with pure panic. He had found the hikers behind me up there. Killed them. Surely the sounds of screaming meant he was killing them. And when he was done, would he come down after me?

  Three shapes appeared in the mist ahead of me. I slowed down and approached carefully. What if that madman wasn’t alone? What if there was a cult of killers? I had seen that on a TV show I couldn’t remember the name of right now. If there were three of them, I had no chance. I couldn’t run anymore. I was done.

  “What happened, man?” Mike’s voice had never sounded so good.

  I went over and leaned on him, panting, trying to catch my breath. “I… there was… mad hiker… attacked… fell.”

  “Whoa, man. Take it easy.”

  Lucy and Elena looked more worried than Mike. I don’t think Mike would be worried if he were abducted and woke up in the trunk of a serial killer’s car. He’d probably wait until the killer opened the trunk then give him a shit-eating grin and say, “You don’t want to kill me, man.”

  And knowing Mike’s luck, the killer would probably reply, “Yeah, you’re right,” and let him go free.

  Knowing my luck, I’d probably suffocate in the trunk before the killer even opened it.

  I managed to get my breathing from panicked to just heavy. “There’s a crazy person back there,” I said. “He attacked me but I tripped over a rock and rolled halfway down the mountain. I got away but there were some other hikers behind me. I… I don’t think they made it.”

  “What? Are you sure?”

  I shrugged. “I couldn’t see anything because of the mist but I heard screams.”

  “Ah,” he said. “Screams of terror or surprise? Maybe they knew the guy. Maybe he jumped out of the mist to scare them. He thought you were them and he jumped out at you by accident.”