Dead Days [Season 11]

by Casey, Ryan

  He wanted to see it first.

  He felt like there was so much he could learn from it.

  He could feel himself falling into it, like Medusa’s clutches.

  He stepped closer to this being, this thing. And as he stepped closer, he saw something.

  This man. He wasn’t a normal man. Wasn’t ordinary.

  There were vines creeping out of his body.

  Beautiful flowers sprouting from his chest.

  Pink.

  Blue.

  Green.

  And two large dahlias worming their way out of his eye sockets as he got closer.

  “I need to—”

  Riley put a hand on Peter’s rifle. Lowered it. “I just… I need to see.”

  “Riley,” Peter said.

  Riley stepped ahead of Peter, then. He stepped ahead of Ted. He walked slowly towards this being. The closer he got, the more beautiful it looked. The more peaceful it looked. The more he wanted to move towards it. The more he wanted to believe in its beauty.

  “Riley!” Peter shouted. “Be careful!”

  But he saw the man open his mouth. He saw a smile that filled him with ease, with joy.

  He saw him lift a flower-covered hand so gracefully. So peacefully.

  And he wanted to touch it.

  He wanted to reach out and touch it.

  He stepped further towards this man. His magnetic draw getting stronger. Like the clutches of sleep drawing him in, unshakable, irresistible.

  “Riley!”

  He saw something, then.

  A flicker.

  A flicker across this man’s stoic smile.

  And then he felt him lunge towards him.

  He tumbled back.

  Tumbled back as flowers spilled off this man’s body.

  As daffodils fell from his skin.

  And then he heard a blast and watched him fall to the ground.

  He lay there. Lay there under a mass of fallen daffodils. Heart racing. Chest tight. Fear taking over.

  Peter and Ted walked over to his side.

  Peter held out a hand. “Now you know what you’re dealing with,” he said. “Now you know the forces we have to resist. Now come on. We need to get to the church. Or—”

  And then Riley heard something.

  Over his shoulder.

  He looked around.

  Saw something that filled him with nausea.

  There were a group of these flower-covered people.

  All of them looking in his direction.

  And all of them coming towards him.

  Fast.

  Chapter Six

  Anna looked into Melissa’s eyes, and she didn’t see any death in them.

  She didn’t see anything monstrous about her.

  She just saw Melissa.

  And that’s why this was so much more difficult to take than she could ever have imagined.

  She stood in the house. Alison by her side, leaning against the broken glass that Xanthe had thrown her against. Kesha was behind her.

  And Anna wanted to pick Kesha up and take her out of here.

  She wanted to get all of them out of here.

  But Melissa…

  She walked towards Anna, smile on her face. Not a malicious smile like Xanthe had. Something different. Something else.

  “You need to stay back, Melissa,” Anna said. Holding back tears.

  “But I’m okay, Anna. Really I am.”

  “Melissa, you’re not—”

  “I know what happened,” she said, as she ambled closer. “I… I know how it looked. But I feel better now. You won’t understand. Not until you join us. Not until you feel the way we feel.”

  Anna looked at Melissa. Then at Xanthe. And suddenly she felt like one of the outsiders in her own home. She felt like she was one of the enemies. One of the monsters, and Xanthe and her kind were some kind of advanced version of herself; they were what she could be if she fulfilled her potential.

  She felt tears roll down her face. Wiped them away as she lay there. A sense of inevitability about all of this. A sense that this was only heading in one direction.

  “You’re not yourself,” Anna said. “Not anymore. Don’t you see that? Don’t you see?”

  Melissa’s smile widened. She laughed. “But I am myself. I spent time with you. I was with Ricky… who I miss. I miss so much. But the things I see. The things I feel. I just want to… fix things. I just want to help the world heal.”

  “Your baby,” Anna said. “What about your baby? Where do they fit into this idyllic future you’re telling me about?”

  She saw Melissa’s face turn. Saw the full range of emotions once again. Emotions that she just couldn’t believe a creature could be capable of. That she couldn’t accept were possible.

  Melissa reached for her belly. And for a moment, she saw it. The grief. She saw the realisation. The pain of a loss of a life that hadn’t even been born.

  And then she looked up at Anna, and she smiled. “But it’s okay,” she said. “My baby. They’ll be okay too, one way or another.”

  Coldness spread through her body, then. Because she wasn’t sure what was true. Maybe the baby really could survive and would be born into this new world like Melissa. Or maybe she was gone, but her new state was forcing her to overlook it, forcing her to avoid reality.

  Whatever the outcome… it was chilling. That much was undeniable.

  “You need to—to look at this properly, Melissa. You need to think about—”

  “No,” Xanthe said, shaking her head. “Just… no. You need to look at this properly. You need to think about what we’re proposing. We’re giving you an opportunity. A chance. A chance to be a part of something greater.”

  Anna took in deep breaths. Tried to keep herself in control. “Whatever it is you’re offering you’re still infected.”

  “But it’s only a virus if you view it that way. If you see it as a downside. But we feel better. We feel alive. So alive. So join us. Join us and hand Kesha over. The first part of the puzzle. The first one we need.”

  Anna saw Xanthe standing opposite.

  She saw Melissa by her side.

  She saw them both, and she knew she needed to take advantage of this moment.

  She needed to make the most of this opportunity.

  She couldn’t give her intentions away. She couldn’t give anything away.

  She took a deep breath, looked at Alison. Saw her perched there. Blood rolling down her head. Eyes closed. Bite across her arm.

  And she wanted to go to her.

  She wanted to help her.

  She wanted to do whatever she could for her.

  But then she looked back at Melissa, right into her eyes.

  “You know I can’t just give up,” she said.

  And before Melissa or Xanthe had a chance to say anything in return, she threw herself towards the back of the house.

  She grabbed Kesha as she ran and ran through to the bedroom. She didn’t look over her shoulder. She didn’t need to. She knew they were coming. Knew they were closing in.

  She slammed the bedroom door shut, and she froze as she stood there. Kesha crying in her arms, asking what was happening, what was going on.

  Footsteps racing towards her.

  She rushed across the bedroom, then. Reached the window. Pulled open the curtains, yanked the latch free and pulled it open.

  And then she lifted it up, struggling with the stiffness of it, and she clambered her way out of that room.

  She rolled out. Landed on the hard road beneath.

  Just as the bedroom door slammed open.

  And then she got up. Rushed across the street. Rushed past the helicopters. Rushed in any direction she could.

  “You’ll be with us soon!” Xanthe shouted. “Whether you want it or not… you’ll be with us very, very soon. Just like your friends. Both of your friends.”

  She didn’t look around to see what Xanthe was talking about.

  She didn’t look aroun
d, fearing Alison would be there already, in her harrowing new form.

  She couldn’t do anything like that.

  She could only hold on to Kesha.

  Tears pouring.

  She could only run through the streets.

  As all around her, the world she thought she knew crumbled.

  Chapter Seven

  Riley saw the flower-covered creatures racing towards him, and there was only one thing he could do.

  He turned around. Ran as fast as he could in the other direction. Peter Hillson on one side. Ted on the other.

  Although they were holding rifles, he’d seen just how many of those beings there were. Just how many were closing in.

  And just how many seemed to be sprouting out of nowhere, too.

  Like they were at one with the ecosystem.

  “There’s a church just up ahead on the right!” Peter shouted. “We—we need to get there. To get to higher ground. And then we can focus on picking them off.”

  Riley chanced a glance over his shoulder. Saw the number of those chasing him had increased. “Don’t really fancy picking them off at all, in all truth.”

  “Well that’s just too goddamned bad, now you’ve got them on our tail. They’re not going to stop chasing us. Not going to stop seeking us out. We need to get to that church, and we need to pick them off or they’re going to grind us down eventually. We—”

  A shout. A cry. Just to Riley’s left.

  It was only when he looked over his shoulder that he saw it was Peter.

  He was on the ground. Writhing around on the lush green grass. Crying out. Covering his eyes.

  He didn’t know what was happening at first.

  Not until he saw his ankle.

  There was a hand. A withered, decaying hand.

  Only it was partly sprouting with buttercups.

  It had lurched up through the grass and was holding on.

  Tight.

  “Riley?” Ted said.

  Riley looked at him. Then back at Peter. That hand, gripping on, too tight for Peter to shake.

  And those creatures.

  Getting closer.

  Closer…

  “We need to get to that church,” Ted said. “We—we don’t have any time. We need to go.”

  And Riley wanted to agree with Ted, as he stood there, watching Peter Hillson struggle on the ground. He wanted to agree with him—for his own sake. For both of their sakes.

  But then he shook his head. “We can’t leave him behind.”

  “Mate—”

  “We need him!”

  He swore under his breath. Then he rushed back to Peter’s side. Watching his own steps at all times.

  When he reached Peter, he grabbed his hand. “Come on—”

  “It’s too late,” Peter said. “You—you need to get to that church. You need to—”

  “It’s not too late,” Riley shouted.

  He could see the creatures getting closer.

  Could hear their shrieks. Not groans, but shrieks. Inviting, melodic shrieks, wrapping him in a warm blanket, begging him to stop.

  He gritted his teeth. Pressed his tongue up to the roof of his mouth.

  “No,” he said.

  And then he went to Peter’s ankle and hacked the hand away.

  He saw it writhing. Saw the petals falling from the flowers around it.

  He looked up.

  Those creatures just a matter of metres away now.

  Smiling.

  Holding their hands out.

  Inviting Riley to join them.

  “Come on,” he said, swinging at the hand… but feeling an awful sense of guilt as he did. It was like this place had some sort of hold on him. Some kind of otherworldly force controlling his emotions. Something sinister in the air.

  He took another swing at that hand.

  And in a flicker of a moment, the hand loosened its grip.

  He dragged Peter to his feet.

  Then he pushed him back, and he lifted his rifle and opened fire.

  He watched the bullets hit the oncoming foes. Watched the flowers splatter everywhere, mixed with blood.

  He watched them fall to the ground, and he felt that guilt, that immense guilt, growing by the second.

  He watched them and waited for some room to be between them.

  And then he turned around.

  He turned around, and he raced back in the direction he’d been heading.

  Back along with Peter and Ted.

  Back towards that church.

  He ran quicker now, even though anxiety was closing its grip tighter and tighter. He kept on going even though those footsteps were getting closer, closing in.

  He kept on going, and when he glanced to his left, he noticed something.

  Ted.

  He was smiling.

  Laughing.

  “What the hell are you laughing at?”

  And Ted looked at him with crazed eyes.

  The kind of look he used to give him when he was watching a superhero movie, or playing a new video game.

  “I’ve—I’ve just not felt this alive for a long time, mate,” he said. “I’ve not felt this alive for…”

  He trailed off. Slowed down. Almost came to a stop.

  And Riley didn’t know why.

  He couldn’t understand.

  Not until he looked ahead.

  Into the distance.

  And then he realised.

  It hit him.

  The church was up ahead.

  But in front of it were more of those creatures.

  More of those things.

  And not just a few of them.

  Tons of them.

  Hundreds.

  He looked around. Looked at those approaching from behind. They had stopped. Stopped, just like him. Just like Ted. Just like Peter.

  And then he looked to his left. To his right. Up ahead.

  Every inch of their surroundings was covered.

  The creatures were everywhere.

  They were surrounded.

  “Well shit,” Peter said.

  Riley’s stomach sank. “Well-fucking-shit indeed.”

  Chapter Eight

  Alison heard the footsteps racing through to the back of the house, and she wondered what kind of world she’d fucking walked into all along.

  She opened her eyes as she lay there. Head aching. The taste of blood across her lips. A searing pain across her arm. She could see the morning sun peeking in through the windows ahead. But there was still darkness to this place. Still a sense of something sinister lurking within.

  A sense that things could fall apart—very quickly.

  She heard those footsteps getting further away and thought of Melissa. The woman she’d known so briefly. Only now she was… well, different. She was on her feet again after dying. But not like the rest of the “creatures” she’d seen, as Riley and his friends seemed to call them. Not “undead” like those in the movies.

  She was alive.

  She was conscious.

  And that was the most terrifying thought of all.

  Because she’d been bitten too.

  She’d been bitten. Which meant time was running out for her.

  The clock was ticking.

  She knew what she had to do.

  Like getting the fuck onto her feet and getting the fuck out of this house.

  She went to stand. Rushed across the room, over to the rifle that she’d dropped when Xanthe slung her across the room, such a devastating show of strength that she was still struggling to wrap her head around it.

  She grabbed it. Went to lift it.

  Then she heard the footsteps again.

  She stopped. Froze. Mouth dry. Chest tight. Every inch of her body, weak.

  She could only think of Riley Junior. Of Stuart. Of home.

  And how much of a mistake she’d made coming out here.

  She went to turn around when she saw them.

  The man. One of the people who was with Xa
nthe.

  Holding a rifle.

  Pointing it at her.

  She felt that hesitation. Felt that sense of not wanting to shoot someone down kicking in.

  But before she could even let that hesitation take hold of her, she pulled the trigger and peppered the man with bullets.

  But there was something else, too. Something deeper.

  A voice in her head telling her she didn’t want to do this. Screaming at her to resist. To give in to… something.

  Something she didn’t really understand yet.

  She pushed past it and peppered the man with bullets.

  She watched as he fell back. As blood splattered from him. As he fell, he pulled his own trigger. Bullets flew everywhere, crashing just past Alison, inches from her body.

  She heard more footsteps, then. Heard more of them coming.

  And that’s when she knew this was her chance.

  The only chance she was going to get.

  She threw herself towards that front door, raced outside, over towards the coast, over towards the helicopters.

  And she felt a hand grab the back of her neck.

  She fell back. Turned around in an instant without much of a say in it.

  And when she looked, she saw Melissa standing there, looking into her eyes, smile on her face.

  There was something especially creepy about the way Melissa looked at her. Because she could see it clearly now. Melissa might seem like she was fully awake, fully conscious, and fully alive.

  But there was glassiness to her eyes that hinted at something else entirely.

  It hinted at Melissa being trapped. A prisoner to her own impulses. Her own urges.

  No.

  Not her urges.

  The urges of this virus in one of its myriad forms.

  “You don’t have to run anymore, Alison,” Melissa said. “You don’t have to fight. You’re turning. It’s already starting. Our blood is your blood. Soon you’ll see what we’ve been working towards. You’ll see the bigger picture. Just let it take over you. Don’t fight it. Don’t resist it.”

  Alison shook her head. But she had to admit it was a struggle. She had to admit the voice in her head was noisy, demanding. And she wasn’t sure how long she was going to be able to fight it off. “I’m not one of you.”

  She saw Melissa’s teeth. Saw the sheen to them. “You are,” she said. “And it’s not so bad. Not when you see it for yourself. When you see the potential for our world. All the things we can solve. All the problems we can fix.”