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Dead Days Zombie Apocalypse Series

Page 13

by Ryan Casey


  Then she looked at the man beside Melissa, and her face dropped.

  She saw recognition.

  She saw something in this woman’s eyes.

  And looking at the man beside her, she saw recognition in his eyes, too.

  The woman stumbled out of the vehicle. She was blonde. Tall. Bright blue eyes.

  She looked firmly at the man beside Melissa, not even acknowledging her presence.

  Then she said something.

  She said something that changed everything.

  “Ted?” she said.

  The man with the scar on his neck stared back at this woman, the army barracks of Fulwood looming in the distance.

  Tears filled his eyes.

  “Ted?”

  EPISODE FIFTY-FOUR

  THE FINAL FALL

  (FOURTH EPISODE OF SEASON TEN)

  Riley planted his spade into the earth and tried to keep himself together.

  The afternoon sun was hidden by the thick, dark clouds. He was faintly aware of a presence beside him, but that drifted to the back of his mind; to the back of his consciousness. He tasted sick in his mouth, combined with the unshakable smell of death in the air.

  So much had fallen.

  So much had changed.

  And yet he was still here.

  He dug out some soil, threw it over his shoulder. The more he focused on the digging, the more he could detach himself from what had happened—from how things had played out.

  Because he couldn’t let himself remember.

  He couldn’t let himself think of the way things had gone down.

  He couldn’t let himself think of that final stand.

  That final fall.

  He dug his spade into the earth another time. And this time, when it connected with the ground, he felt transported. Transported to another time, another place, only this was long ago.

  Another grave he’d dug.

  One of so many graves he’d dug.

  Repeating itself, all over again.

  But it was the graves he hadn’t been able to dig that stuck with him most. Ted. Pedro. Claudia. Anna—when he’d thought she was dead. They were the ones that had stuck with him. They were the ones he felt guilty about, ashamed of.

  He should’ve been able to bury them. He should’ve been able to give them the goodbyes they deserved.

  Everyone should’ve had an equal farewell.

  Especially his friends.

  He dug another spade into the earth, and he felt himself coming apart at the seams. He felt the horror and the panic of this situation welling up. Because this was supposed to be behind him. He wasn’t supposed to be going through these kinds of things anymore. He wasn’t supposed to be digging graves for anyone.

  But here he was.

  Here he’d always be…

  He planted his spade into the earth once more, and his arms went completely numb. Completely weak.

  He shut his eyes and listened to the voice beside him, the one telling him everything was going to be okay.

  And then he opened his eyes again, took a deep breath, composed himself.

  Such was life in the Dead Days.

  He saw them surround him.

  He held his breath. Felt the fear invade him. Felt it grip hold of him, tight, never to let go.

  He looked all around for another way out. For another escape.

  But he knew now there was no future.

  He knew now, as he tasted the blood running from his nostrils, that there was no hope.

  Only the hope he created.

  He looked over at the barrel, the sound of the infected getting closer.

  He swallowed a lump in his throat.

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  It was time now.

  He pulled the trigger.

  Chapter One

  Carly stood in the house and felt the tears roll down her cheeks.

  The sun shone in through the windows. She could smell something. Pancakes. Pancakes that she was sure must’ve been cooked recently. And as she smelled them, she thought back to that happy time. The time when she’d made them with Marie; the time when she’d tried flipping her first one and ended up dropping it on the floor. The love they’d made afterwards, still laughing about the failed pancakes, still laughing about everything.

  Happy.

  She swallowed a heavy lump in her throat as she saw the figures of the troops outside begin to surround the house. She heard them shouting at her. Shouting at her to step outside, to stand down. Must’ve thought there was someone in here with a weapon. At least she could use that to her advantage; to do what she had to do on her own terms.

  She knew then that this was it. This was her moment. This was when she did it—when she did what she had to do. She didn’t want to. Nobody wanted to do this.

  But there was no other way.

  Not now she knew the truth.

  Not now she’d witnessed the truth, first hand, for herself.

  Now she’d seen Marie fall.

  Now she’d read the note about the infection being airborne.

  Now she’d started bleeding…

  She looked around at the petrol covering the house. She’d found a canister by the door and she’d spread it around the lounge area as quickly as she could, being sure to cover the boiler in the process. She could smell it. And it relaxed her, somewhat. She’d always liked the smell of petrol. Always comforted her, reminded her of long journeys she’d taken with her family; stops at service stations, where Dad would always get her some gimmicky little sweets or a keyring or something; just anything to put a smile on her face.

  And she smiled as she thought about it, as the figures outside got closer, as they surrounded her. She heard the voices, the shouts, getting louder. She knew she could just stand here. She knew she could just wait. And perhaps she would make it. Perhaps things wouldn’t have to be this way. Perhaps, just perhaps, things could be different.

  But she smiled again when she thought about those pancakes; about the Polaroid; about the time she and Marie spent on those cliffs, happy, together.

  And she closed her eyes.

  She heard the voices get louder. Heard the shouts intensify.

  And all Carly did was take deep breaths of that petrol-fuelled air.

  She was ready now.

  It was time.

  She took the match out of her pocket.

  Rubbed it against the matchbox with her shaky hands.

  “I’m coming now, Marie,” she said. “I’m coming.”

  She took one last look at the match as it dangled between her fingers.

  She held her breath.

  And then she dropped it, and she closed her eyes and waited for the flames…

  But the flames didn’t hit her.

  A hand. Out of nowhere. A hand reached out, grabbed her.

  And as she looked over her shoulder, the flames beginning to engulf the house, the bullets starting to fire in her direction as the surrounding troops were caught up in them, she realised who it was and what was happening.

  It was Ricky.

  “Come on,” he shouted at her. “I’m not leaving you here. We’re getting out of here. But we’re going to have to be quick.”

  She looked back in the other direction. Looked at Marie’s body, covered by the smoke already. And she felt tears building in her eyes as she looked at her. Because this was it. Killing someone was one thing. But burning them was another entirely.

  Burned was burned. There was no coming back from that.

  She wanted to resist. She’d felt her nose bleeding, and she’d seen that’s how Marie had been, too. Which meant she was probably on the verge of falling victim to this airborne strain of the virus.

  So Ricky should just leave her behind. He should just leave her here and save himself.

  “Quick, Carly!” he shouted.

  But then she saw the people stepping inside.

  She saw their guns rising. Saw them extinguishing the flames.


  And she knew right then that she didn’t want to die.

  Not while there was still hope.

  Not while there was still a chance.

  She had to take that chance. She had to make it count. No matter what it took.

  She followed Ricky out of the house. Battled her way through the rising flames, through the thickening smoke. And it amazed her, really. It amazed her to see this place so engulfed, and all of it her doing.

  It amazed her to see just what damage she had caused.

  And what she’d almost done to herself.

  She looked back over her shoulder when they reached the back door. Some of the troops were shouting out as the flames covered them. Others were battling through.

  Marie’s body was nothing but a blackened char.

  “I’m sorry, Marie,” Carly muttered. “I’ll find you again. I’ll find you.”

  She took Ricky’s hand.

  Together, they ran out of the burning house.

  But they weren’t safe.

  They were never going to be safe again.

  Because they were the prey now.

  Chapter Two

  Riley stared at Anna as she held Kesha in her arms.

  Kesha was covered in blood.

  At first, he felt a heavy punch hit his gut, wind him. Because he’d fought so hard to get this far. He’d fought so hard to make sure he survived, to make sure everyone he cared about survived. Only for everything to fall apart. To fall apart, right when he’d least expected it. Right where it shouldn’t have.

  Because this was meant to be his sanctuary.

  This was meant to be his home.

  And bad things weren’t supposed to happen here.

  He saw the mess of the creature on the floor ahead of Anna. It looked like she’d stabbed at his head with something, but it had been a laboured fight, that much was clear to see.

  He staggered over towards Anna, towards Kesha. The first thing he wanted to do was hold both of them in his arms. To tell them both everything was going to be okay.

  But with Kesha covered in blood, how could things be okay?

  How could anything be the same ever again?

  “I’m sorry,” Riley said, moving closer towards Anna, thinking of all the ways he’d let her down simply by not being there for her, all the ways he’d let Chloe down by not being able to fulfil her final wish.

  The wish to protect Kesha.

  The wish to look out for her.

  The wish to keep her safe, no matter what.

  All of those promises—all of those hopes—gone.

  “It’s not her blood, Riley.”

  He heard Anna’s voice, and he didn’t process what she was saying. Not at first.

  “Riley. It’s not Kesha’s blood. It’s not Kesha’s blood.”

  And then it hit him.

  The blood.

  The blood Kesha was covered in.

  It wasn’t hers.

  It was the blood of the creature on the floor.

  He launched himself at Anna. Wrapped his arms around her tightly. He pulled back, leaned in towards Kesha, planted a kiss on her forehead even though it tasted of the metallic tang of blood.

  “Hey you,” he said. “It’s okay. We’re here for you. You don’t have to worry. Not anymore.”

  She looked up at him with big, questioning eyes. Like she couldn’t quite understand what she’d just witnessed; what she’d just been through.

  He looked at Anna then. And he looked down at her belly. The place where their child was growing. The place where their future lay.

  Things were going to be okay.

  They were going to stay together and fight whatever was in their way, no matter what it took.

  “Something’s wrong, Riley,” Anna said.

  Riley nodded. “That much is clear to see.”

  “Beth. She was okay one second. Then… then she wasn’t. But she hadn’t turned. Not completely. There was still some sense about her. There was still something conscious inside her.”

  Riley swallowed a bitter lump in his throat when Anna said those words. Because he knew from what Peter had told him that he was to expect the unexpected. It was just even more harrowing, even more difficult to believe when this was his sanctuary. When this was the place he’d been living for so long without even the smallest indication that something was wrong.

  “One thing’s for sure,” Riley said. “We’re going to have to make our way out of this place. But from what Peter told me… it’s not going to be easy.”

  “What’s actually happening, Riley?”

  Riley cleared his throat, tried to steady his breathing. “Peter told me there’s been an outbreak. Only… only it isn’t an outbreak like the ones we’re used to. And everywhere outside. Everywhere in this district. He wants to clear it out. He wants to cleanse it—no matter who falls in the process.”

  Anna lowered her head. Clearly the news of what was happening and what was unfolding was a lot for her to take. It would be a lot for anyone to take. Riley was still struggling to accept the news himself.

  “The vent,” Anna said.

  “What?”

  Anna pointed up. “The vent. I was trying to get up there when…”

  She stopped speaking. She didn’t have to continue for Riley to know what she was referring to—the creature she’d killed. That must’ve gone down not long after she’d tried to escape through the vent, Kesha in her arms.

  “I’d love to say there’s another way,” Anna said. “But it’s the only one I’ve found.”

  Riley wished there was another way too. But he’d heard the way the lift slammed behind him, how it would be out of action now, as per Peter’s promise. Honestly, it didn’t look like they had much of a choice.

  “Come on,” he said. “We’re going to have to make it out of here one way or another. The sooner we start, the better.”

  He helped Kesha and Anna up into the vent, then went up there himself. When they were up there, for a split second, in that cold, narrow shaft, he felt safe. Totally safe. And he wished he could stay up here forever. That they could hide in here until whatever was happening out there all blew over.

  They fought and squeezed their way through the shaft. And the further through they went, the more the sounds of the other corridors filtered through into the vents. The shouts. The screams. All kind of chaos, all unfolding right beneath Riley, Anna, and Kesha.

  They kept on going until they found an opening in the vent. And when they got to it, Riley kicked against it, kicked it until it was completely open.

  He looked outside. Saw daylight. A roof. All this battling, and they’d reached the roof.

  He helped Anna and Kesha out onto the roof.

  Then, together, they stood there at the edge and looked down.

  When Riley saw the streets, his stomach sank.

  There was the peppering of gunfire everywhere. The sound of crying and screaming.

  And in the streets, Riley saw them. He saw them, surrounded by flames.

  The dead.

  No doubt about it.

  The dead.

  He looked at Anna.

  Then he looked at Kesha.

  And he knew that whatever happened, however this went down, their battle out of this situation wasn’t going to be easy.

  “We’ll make it,” he said. “We have to.”

  He wanted to believe himself.

  He really did.

  But he was finding it more of a struggle by the second.

  Chapter Three

  Ricky held Carly’s hand and listened as the gunfire peppered through their district.

  The sun shone down brightly from above. Honestly, if it weren’t for the weather, Ricky would’ve lost all sense of what time of day it even was, but he could gather that it was afternoon.

  The longest damned afternoon of his life, that was for sure.

  He looked at Carly. The blood that had pooled from her nostrils just moments ago was gone. She looked better
, if she could possibly look better in the kind of situation she was in, of course. She’d been through a lot. She was grieving. She was going to be grieving for a long time.

  Problem was, now wasn’t the time to grieve.

  There was no time to grieve at all.

  Only to move forward.

  Only to get the hell out of this place.

  “Carly, I know this isn’t easy, but you’re going to have to listen. Listen to what… to what I’m saying.”

  She looked at Ricky, total defeat in her eyes. “I’m infected. You shouldn’t be near me.”

  “No,” Ricky said, taking both of her hands. “No, I don’t believe that. I refuse to believe it. You don’t know you’re infected. Not for certain.”

  “I—I was bleeding. Just like Marie was when I found her.”

  “Just because you were having a nosebleed in a stressful situation doesn’t mean you’re infected. I’m not giving up on you Carly. I came back for you because I wasn’t ready to give up on you. And I’m not going to leave you now because nothing has changed.”

  He moved closer to Carly. Looked right into her eyes.

  “I’m not going anywhere, do you understand?”

  She looked back at Ricky like she still wasn’t totally lucid, like she didn’t completely understand.

  But then he saw a glimmer of lucidity in her eyes. He saw a glimmer of understanding.

  And he knew right then she heard him.

  “Come on,” he said. “We’re going to have to make a break for it. While we’re all clear.”

  He took Carly’s hand, and together the pair of them crawled to the end of the alleyway. When they poked their heads around the side of it, Ricky’s stomach sank. The streets they’d called home for so long were in ruin. It felt like this was some kind of nightmare; like it wasn’t reality. Like they were seeing things through the perspective of a lens where the world had fallen.

  But this was reality.

  And that was the hardest thing to believe. The hardest thing to accept.

  They rushed across the street. Ricky knew how dangerous it was. Not just because there was a reason the troops were on the street. But the troops themselves. They weren’t going to hesitate about firing. He’d seen the way they’d hunted them down back at Marie’s place. He didn’t want to take any chances that might get him and Carly killed. He couldn’t afford to.

 

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