In The End | Novella | Beginning of the End

by Stevens, GJ

  Tommy rushed around me, jumping in the car.

  “Stay down,” I whispered, as I eased the door closed and ran around the front, taking the driver’s seat, then pushed myself as low as I could before I took a moment to catch my breath.

  After placing the pistol in the centre console, I looked at Tommy, who’d squeezed into the footwell. He peered up, wide-eyed and hopeful.

  I nodded as my breath slowed, looking to the keys in my hand, then to the ignition and the array of controls. I swallowed hard.

  I shook my head. I had no time to think of what I could do next. Instead, I moved up in my seat, just a little, and thought back to my mum driving.

  There were two pedals, not three. One large one in the middle and one to the right. There was no gear stick, but a selector lever sitting between the two seats along with the handbrake. My breathing became easier as I realised it was an automatic.

  Leaning around the steering wheel, I found the key slot and the thin metal slid in with great ease, lighting up the dashboard and telling me to push my foot on the brake before I started the engine.

  A smile formed as I realised how helpful the car was being.

  I pressed my right foot to the brake.

  About to turn the key, I looked to the left and the muffled voices a little way down the houses. Two soldiers jogged our way. I could guess the anger underneath their gas masks.

  “Shit, they’ve found us.”

  13

  Turning the key, I watched as the soldier’s heads snapped up to look our way and I realised although they’d been running towards us, they hadn’t been looking at the car. I peered back, no longer in any doubt they’d seen the terror on my face.

  Whilst I regretted the decision not to stay hidden until they were inside, looking for the one I’d shot, their rifles rose and I pushed my foot to the right pedal, gritting my teeth through the pain. The engine roared, but we didn’t move. Looking to the gear selector, I grabbed it with my left hand through the cloth and pushed down the button on the side as I tensed with the pain in my palm.

  Pushing the lever forward, the car groaned with a terrible voice of effort under the bonnet and as I realised I’d left the handbrake up, it released, Tommy lifting out of the footwell and pushing the button on the end of the other lever.

  We surged backward. I twisted the wheel left before stomping hard on the brake to stop us in the middle of the road.

  Tommy grabbed the selector and slid it into Drive as I jabbed my foot down as hard as I could to the accelerator. We were off.

  As I gripped the wheel tight with my good hand, I corrected our direction down the road, only looking in the mirror as the rear windscreen shattered, showering us with glass.

  Ducking down as far as I dared, we sped, whilst I held the wheel as straight as I could.

  With another shot, I peered ahead, leaning forward in hope of seeing what waited around the corner.

  The car stayed on four tyres as I twisted the wheel, the rubber squealing into the turn, seeming as if we would go on two wheels and flip over.

  We were about to come out to the road splitting the village in two; the road where at each end there was a roadblock manned by a load of soldiers in gas masks and holding guns they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot us with as soon as they saw us.

  I slammed on the brakes and we lurched forward, Tommy falling into the footwell, but he climbed back to the seat as we stopped.

  “Stay down,” I snapped.

  Looking around, I cursed having driven in the wrong direction and away from where I was trying to get us to. Knowing we’d be killed straight away if I turned us around and took the quickest route, I couldn’t decide if I should loop around the village and come around from the other side or try for somewhere on the opposite side of the village.

  The soldiers knew about us now. They knew we had a car and I didn’t doubt they’d chase after us. But I couldn’t remember if on the other side of the village there was a gap wide enough for us to get through.

  What other choice was there? I would just have to go for it. I had to take the chance. I had to build up as much speed as possible as we headed to where we could rush through the fence.

  Pushing back down on the accelerator, the pedal feeling sticky with my blood, I aimed the wheels to take the next corner wide in hope I could keep us on the road at the speed we’d already got to; in hope we’d be out of sight of the soldiers before they reacted.

  Our speed grew quickly and I took the turn with the road opening up both sides. I glanced to the left and where the roadblock had been, seeing soldiers standing around, then double taking our way and bringing their guns up to aim.

  I looked right and the direction we were turning, but instead of the empty road ahead, the small tank I’d seen before waited in the middle of the tarmac with its thin cannon pointing right at us.

  With no idea why they hadn’t blown us away already, we raced towards it, unable to stop staring into the barrel. I had no idea why it hadn’t moved and didn’t adjust its aim when I jolted us to the right, surging out of the sights, only just able to pull us back straight again one-handed.

  A gunshot came from behind, but just one. We must have been out of their range. My plan had worked, but as the tyres hit the curb, jumping us on to the path, I fought with the wheel to keep control. Cursing my wounds, the movement forced me to battle the steering with both hands.

  We were soon parallel with the small tank. Passing, I glanced to the open back doors and two soldiers with unmasked faces, unloading green metal boxes from the rear.

  The soldiers saw us as I saw them, but we passed before they could do anything.

  Instead, I watched them in the rear-view mirror, rushing their masks on before shrugging their rifles from their shoulders.

  They didn’t pull the triggers before we were too far down the road; before I had to make a choice. To go to the left where I didn’t know what was happening, or to the right and my house, then around to where I’d planned to break through the fence to reach the woods, but where I knew the soldiers were looking for me, ready to pull their triggers.

  I chose to stick to the plan. I chose to head to the right. It was the only way I knew would take us to the woods and the promise of safety if we weren’t going to navigate over the fields in a vain hope the car could cope with the ruts of churned mud.

  Seeing the roadblock ahead and the soldiers readying their aims but not firing, I caught sight of another group to the left, but they weren’t soldiers. These were people in bright orange space-like suits, with pipes snaking across the outside. They stood in groups of three or more, looking down to rows of long black body bags lying in lines across the ground.

  My breath caught in my throat and I looked away, blinking as if that would erase the image. Then I saw the corner and slowed a little, reminded of the pain when we’d last hit the curb.

  As the turn opened out, I looked ahead, expecting the soldiers to be where we’d left them. I was in no doubt they were expecting us to come around and had their guns ready to meet us.

  I slowed right down before we’d completed the turn, uncertain of whether I should race ahead or creep around the corner in case I needed to make a different move and head back the way we’d come. But I didn’t complete the thought before Tommy called out.

  “Mum,” he shouted, the word long and drawn out.

  Before I could look to see who he called to and just as I realised what he’d said, his door opened. I slammed on the brakes, tensing with the pain as Tommy jumped to the road, running with his arms open toward his mum emerging from a walkway between two houses.

  I stared with relief that there was an adult who could take charge, a mother, someone who would look after us. Someone who would know what to do.

  With no time to relax as Tommy ran, I took in the detail of what I’d seen. Rising in my seat, I pulled the door open to get a better look and make sure I’d seen right and that the woman about to grip around Tommy wasn’t really missi
ng the side of her face.

  As I looked on I realised the sight hadn’t been a figment of my imagination. The white of her skull where the skin down one side of her face should have been. The red of blood dripping down around the edges. She ambled along, opening her arms to the boy so close to her.

  Despite all I’d seen, people’s behaviour was so much like those in my favourite video game; I couldn’t bring myself to believe the explanation. But I realised enough to know it wasn’t right. I thought back to the body bags and for the first time thought perhaps the soldiers had the best idea.

  After ducking back into the car, I pulled the pistol from the centre console. I attempted to run, despite the pain in my right foot, towards the woman.

  I was too late. She had Tommy in her arms and rather than pulling him close in an embrace and a beautiful reunion, she gripped him around his torso and sunk her teeth into the sleeve of his hoodie.

  14

  Tommy screamed, trying to pull back, but it looked as if her grip was too strong for his effort to make an impact. I tried to hurry toward him, pushing the gun out in front but I wasn’t stupid enough to think I had any chance of hitting her from even this short distance. I would most likely miss, but had an equal chance of hitting Tommy.

  I rushed forward as best as I could and called out to him to pull away. I saw his effort, but her grip was too tight as she tried to pull him closer to take another bite.

  He struggled as I grew nearer with the gun still out in front, but it was only when I was within two arm lengths that I dared to fire, the bullet smashing into her eye socket. I shot again, missing this time, the round pinging off the brickwork at her back.

  The first had been enough and she released her grip, falling to the floor.

  “Get in the car,” I shouted, still looking at the woman who wasn’t Tommy’s mum anymore.

  With his hand at where she’d bitten his arm, Tommy looked to me wide-eyed, nodding at the instruction as he rushed to the open door. With skin so pale and his jaw hanging slack, he’d been so lucky he was wearing the hoodie; otherwise she’d have broken the skin and it would be two of us with wounds we’d somehow have to deal with.

  On my way around the front of the car, I had to stop, resting on the bonnet for a moment’s respite from the pain in my foot. Looking down, I took solace it wasn’t pouring with blood.

  I knew if Mum could see me she would have a fit at how dirty it was and make me bathe in antiseptic.

  But she would never be there for me again. And neither would Tommy’s for him. We were alone.

  A gunshot echoing in the distance pulled me back from my spiralling mood and to the road and the corner we had to go around before we were out of this place. But we had to be quick. If the soldiers weren’t already rushing after us, then the gunshots would soon bring them near.

  Gritting my teeth, I put one foot after the other, feeling the pain rising once again. I made it around the car soon enough, landing down in the seat.

  Glancing to Tommy, he still held his hand to his arm. “Are you okay?” I said. “Silly question, I know.” But rather than bursting into tears, he looked down at my foot and up to the blood-soaked towel in my hand. He gave a slow nod.

  Through the missing back window came the sound of a great engine starting, then revving high. My thoughts flashed to the tank and shaking my head, I manhandled the seatbelt, clipping it into place and we were off again into the corner.

  With my foot pushing down the accelerator, we passed the car crash outside my house. I paid little attention, knowing I had to pick a speed fast enough for our momentum to carry us through the fence, but slow enough that I could see between the houses; controlled enough not to smash to the brick and bring this nightmare to an end.

  I released the throttle just a little. The street was empty.

  “Seat belt, Tommy,” I said as I glanced to his side, hoping he had enough time to pull it on.

  I scanned along the houses, the open doors, searching for the truck and the soldiers and trying to figure out where they had gone. Then I realised they were probably catching up behind us. We had no time to wait.

  Shaking away the worry, I searched for the gap between the houses as I visualised the fence beyond. Then I saw it, the gap I needed, and pushed for more speed.

  I took the turn, the tyres squealing as I gritted my teeth, remembering the curb at the edge of the pavement. I looked up as the front wheel crashed against the curb. It felt like the tyres were rock hard, but we were over and somehow they were still attached. The rear wheels hit hard moments after.

  Now there was nothing between us and the fence. Concentrating as hard as I could, I lined up to the centre of the tall metal panel, correcting left and then right and left again, whilst looking to the thin gaps on either side and the concrete blocks on the legs.

  A sudden thought came to mind; what if there was more concrete on the other side in the middle of the panel to stop anyone breaking through?

  But we had no choice; any moment we would hit and we would know for sure.

  I glanced again to Tommy sitting in his seat, gripping the sides of the upholstery and gritting his teeth, eyes closed as we raced forward.

  A vision flashed in my head that the fence would hold firm and we’d slam right into it, snapping our necks as if we’d hit a brick wall. But it was too late. Nothing could change that now.

  The impact came with a great bang, but then was gone.

  We’d hit the fence, pinning us into our seats, but we kept on moving. My worst fears hadn’t come true and as the bass sound of the crash and its echo slowly faded, I saw the woods ahead, the view rising and falling as the car jumped up and down in the ruts.

  Steam or smoke, I wasn’t sure which, sprayed out from the front of the car and I pushed the brake, afraid of the engine exploding and taking us with it.

  “Get out,” I shouted, glancing at Tommy to make sure he was okay.

  He stared at the white billowing vapour. We pulled at the door handles at the same time and I regretted jumping to the grass.

  As the pain in my foot subsided, I looked back to where we’d come and the concrete blocks still in place. The metal panel lay to the side, its once straight lines all buckled and bent. I thought for a moment about lifting it up and leaning it back in place to give us the slimmest of chances of pretending we hadn’t just done what we had. But even if I could carry such a weight, I had no chance with only one of my hands unhurt.

  I turned, rushing as fast as I could past the car, Tommy already at the tree line. I caught him up and we ran, the feeling so great to be outside of the fence with only the trees on either side.

  Despite the pain the forest floor caused to my foot, the dirt clogged my slipper as I walked, matting with my blood to form a kind of protective sole.

  We slowed after a few minutes, both of us turning the way we’d come. Relief rushed over me when I couldn’t see the village, or the fence, or the rising smoke, for the canopy.

  We’d made it. We’d stayed alive. I’d rescued Tommy and now we could hear the main road just up ahead, even if we couldn’t see it yet.

  I looked down to Tommy, not able to drop my smile. He looked up, seeming so pale in the forest light.

  “It’ll be okay,” I said. I spotted his hand hovering where his mother had bitten him, for the first time seeing the dried blood between his fingers.

  As he pulled his hand away I saw the tear in the fabric and what looked like a wound underneath.

  “I don’t feel very well,” he said in a soft voice.

  “It’s okay. A few minutes more and we’ll get you some help. It will all be fine,” I said.

  But little did I know.

  If you enjoyed Beginning of the End, find out what happened next in the three full-length novel series, starting with In The End.

  When humanity faces an undead nightmare, one man’s party turns into a race to survive.

  Logan has always taken things a little too seriously. So when his New
Year's Eve attempt to unwind descends into chaos, he's the first to realize it's no joke. After Logan and his friends miss the evacuation transport, he's given a choice: lead the group to safety or watch all of his friends come back from the dead…

  When Logan discovers the military and government have no interest in saving them, making it to sanctuary alive may be their only hope. And after he learns his party of survivors might hold the key to a cure, the fate of humanity rests on his shoulders. But saving his species could mean sacrificing himself…

  Can Logan stave off the end of the world or will one wrong decision doom humankind?

  In The End is a fast-paced post-apocalyptic zombie thriller. If you like nightmarish settings, reluctant heroes, and action-packed adventures, then you’ll love GJ Stevens’ spine-chilling novel.

  Other books by GJ Stevens

  Agent Carrie Harris Series

  Capital Action (Novella)

  Operation Dawn Wolf

  Lesson Learned

  From The Dead

  Check out Capital Action for free by signing up to my mailing list at www.gjstevens.com