The next hour was spent agreeing a rota to observe their neighbours and try to work out which houses were empty, and to agree how best to ration the food that they had. With the curtains all shut it had been dark in the house all day, but as the daylight faded outside it soon became difficult to see. They all went to bed early, with the exception of Simon, who had drawn the first sentry duty.
The Farm
Over the next couple of days there was a constant stream of refugees and the infected approaching the farm. As the former dwindled, the latter increased. They took in everyone who had not been bitten, shot the dangerous, and turned away any who was not clearly a member of either group. The population of the farm swelled to far greater numbers than they could accommodate. Whatever space they could find became living quarters. Despite the constant influx a sense of order developed. As people arrived they were assigned a place to sleep, then were put to work. With so many experienced farmers manning the barricades, there was a huge amount of work to do on the farm, and with the inefficiency of the new work force every available hand was useful.
With the refugees came a steady stream of information about what was going on in the outside world that was not available with the decline of the TV and radio services. With their diesel generators they still had power, though were using it very sparingly. They had food, weapons and a sense of security as they slept at night. It was clear that these were luxuries that the rest of the country did not share. There were sure to be other farms still operating, but they were clearly amongst a privileged few.
The news that came in was bleak. Stories of family members attacking and eating each other abounded. Atrocities committed by friends and neighbours were everywhere. People were telling tales of horrific things they had done to people they had known all their lives to protect themselves and their families. The country outside the borders of the farm was horrific, and they were only protected by the marksmanship of a few farm hands and a couple of policemen, and their own isolation.
As he listened to the accounts of the refugees, two things worried him more than anything else. The first was the whereabouts of his sister. She was in Newcastle, a long way from the safety of the farm, and completely uncontactable. He couldn’t say with any certainty that she was still alive. He knew that she was smart and would act sensibly, but this was not a sensible situation. The second worry was the cities. At some point the infected could leave on mass, and spread across the countryside. Norwich was not far away with its quarter of a million people. If the infected were as tireless as everyone who had seen them told him, then they could make the walk in ten hours. He’d cycled the route as a kid, so knew how easily it could be done. Further away there were ten million Londoners. They would likely scatter in all directions, but there could easily be enough appearing to overwhelm their farm. They had limited guns and a finite amount of ammunition. What they had was low calibre, intended for killing rabbits rather than penetrating a human skull. A successful shot had to be taken from dangerously close range, and fired with pinpoint accuracy. They were managing well against small groups, but John was scared of what would happen if a bigger mob approached them. Besides these big concerns, there was still the fact that the farming was not being done how it should. Experienced men in the fields had been replaced with amateurs.
London
Breakfast was finished without Jose being acknowledged by anyone except Fred, whose wound he tried to bandage up. By the time he had finished playing doctor the food he had found was gone. He was looking at the pile of rubbish on the floor in mild irritation when Becky approached him and held out a cereal bar and a can of coke,
“I saved you these. Us scavengers need to look out for each other.” She smiled at him, but was already turning away as he thanked her. The smile was enough to completely distract him from the food he had been handed, which found its way into his pockets. Unsure of what to do with himself, he sat down beside Fred and asked him how he felt. Before an awkward conversation could ensue, Jed called them all to attention. He didn’t raise his voice above a whisper, but the simple act of standing meant that all attention was turned to him, and the silence let his voice carry to the edges of the loft.
“It’s been a long night. It’s time for us to get home. There are still groups of those freaks outside that we need to get past, but at least we have enough light to see them now. And I don’t think we need to worry about the police if a few people get shot. There’s been too much noise down this end, so they’ve all gathered, but it looks clear if we get through to the end of the street. All these lofts are linked, so it’ll be easy enough to get through. Matt, wait here a few minutes while the rest of us get to the other end. Before you leave knock a couple more tiles out so everyone out there is looking this way, then you can follow us.”
Jose thought about mentioning the family below at that point, and the additional danger their actions might be causing them. He thought better of it. They were hidden and silent. Alerting the rest of the gang to their presence could be more dangerous than what was outside. It was easier to say nothing than to try to weigh up the pros and cons.
Jed had not paused for long after his speech, immediately leading the way into the next loft. Jose fell into the following crowd, and inadvertently found himself back beside Becky. He tried to catch her eye to return the smile she had given him earlier, but she was focused on the people ahead that they were following. He couldn’t break the silence that all around him were observing. She was just a presence beside him, keeping close, but uncontactable.
Every time they came to a boundary between houses, Jed seemed to know the way through it. Without exception there was a path to the next loft. At times it was completely open, at others he had to shift a few boxes or other obstacles, but always the wall was penetrated and they could carry on through.
A couple of minutes was all it took to get to the end of the terrace. They waited a couple more before they heard the crash of falling tiles several houses away. With a finger to his lips, Jed indicated to everyone that he expected them to remain silent. They waited for their next move.
Matt took longer to get through the tunnel through the lofts, not knowing the route. As he emerged through the final hole to join them the expression of relief was obvious. He had been afraid that they would have left without him, or that he wouldn’t find his way through the walls. The only acknowledgement Jed gave of his arrival was to open the hatch that led to the house below. He then turned and whispered to one of the guys next to him, “You. Lead the way.” He was sharing the risk amongst his followers, and had yet to be challenged in his authority. The longer this went on, the less likely it was that anyone would question him. As long as the crisis rolled on, he was a powerful dictator in the making.
There was no ladder down into this house. The chosen canary had little choice but to clamber down, landing awkwardly on the floor below, making far more noise than was safe. He froze on the ground, all apart from his head, which whipped wildly from side to side looking for anything that might attack him. Nothing did, so gradually he relaxed, and remembered that breathing was customary. “I think it’s safe,” he whispered up to his audience.
“Go and find a ladder or something. It won’t stay safe if we all go crashing down like you just did. And hurry up. I don’t know how long that diversion will last.” Jed was being demanding, and pushing things along. Jose was glad of it. It kept everyone moving. They had no way of knowing if the noise Matt had created had had the desired effect, let alone how long it would last.
Within a couple of minutes a bar stool had been found it the kitchen, and they were using it to climb down into the house, far more subtly than the first explorer, who was aiding everyone with their footing, balance and stealth. Getting Fred down was a challenge, as he was growing noticeably weaker, and had little movement in one of his arms. He was putting a brave face on it, scared of being left behind, but there was no way he would keep pace if they needed to make a run for it. He needed to be in a hospital, b
ut had a bunch of delinquents to look after him instead.
They went down the stairs to the front door. The house looked deserted. Jose wondered if there could be a scared family hidden behind the closed doors like he had found earlier, but had no desire to investigate. The sooner they were away from here, back to their own flats the better. He was worried about his parents. If he was all right it felt highly unlikely that their greater practicality and common sense could have allowed them to come to harm, but he wanted the reassurance of seeing them. He guessed that most of the people around him had loved ones that they wanted to see, but as a group they had never really talked much about anything so personal.
Jed checked everything that could be seen out of the windows, and through the letterbox. Satisfied that everything was as clear as could be determined from that vantage point, he whispered to Jose, “Jose, take a look outside, see if it’s safe.” He was annoyed that a second turn had come to him so long before a rotation was completed, but obeyed without complaint. A part of his brain was actively trying to tell him that it was a compliment, and it showed that he was considered most competent in this crisis, but he shoved those thoughts down as absurd. He was being sent out as a sacrificial lamb, and he was knowingly walking into his fate. He told himself that once he got home he would never re-join this group.
Jose stepped outside, and heard the door close and lock behind him. He looked around, and everything around him was peaceful. He looked down the street towards the house where they had spent the night. A mob of at least twenty was gathered outside it. He was in time to see one of the windows give way. Quickly the mob declined in number as they disappeared into the house. He wondered what would happen to the family inside, and how much their fate was his fault. He had stolen their food before he knew they were there. He had then stolen from them at gun point. Knowing they were there, he had said nothing when Jed issued instructions to draw the infected to the house that only Jose knew was not empty.
There was nothing he could do to help them. He hoped that they would manage to stay hidden, but it had become a long shot. Trying to forget about them, he turned back to his friends. He waved at them to follow him, but quickly followed the gesture with one indicating to keep silent. The first of them got out in time to see the last of the infected climbing into the window and entering the house he had robbed that same morning. It served to vindicate Jed’s plan, and reinforce his leadership. He was the fourth or fifth to come out into the open, and gave Jose a nod of appreciation and self-assurance. Like he was in his element in this situation.
Despite the aura of confidence, he did not even raise his voice to a whisper out in the open. He started walking in the direction of home and gave a wave for all to follow him. They gathered around, with Jed in their centre. He sent Matt off ahead with a few hand gestures. Matt was eager to obey, and scurried off, no matter how well he understood what was being asked of him. It was clear that they were going back to the block of flats that most of them called home, and he knew the route well enough to scout ahead.
For a few minutes they walked in silence, and silence surrounded them. It looked like the end of the world. The area they were passing through had never been great, but now every other house had broken windows, or smashed in doors. Broken glass and splinters of wood spread across the pavement, much of it wet with blood. Rubbish drifted above it, pushed by the gentle breeze. There was no power, and no signs of life. They moved quickly, with a nervousness that always left them ready to break into a panicked sprint if any danger emerged. The scant supply of guns were all out on display, and most of the others had picked up some kind of weapon during their stay in the run of lofts.
It was as their block of flats came into sight that there was the first sign of danger from one of the side streets. Matt had passed by unnoticed, and was crouched between two cars ahead of them. The larger group attracted the attention of a figure that lurched into sight thirty meters away. It groaned and tried to run at them, but immediately crashed into a bin that had been left out on the street, and was knocked to the floor. In the silent neighbourhood the noise it made was deafening. As a disorganized rabble, they turned and fled towards what they hoped would be the safety of their homes. Matt saw what was happening and joined in, leading the race away from the known threat, and the other infected that the noise may have summoned.
The improved bandaging had helped slow his decline, but Fred was weak, and soon stumbled and fell to the ground. He tried to get back to his feet, but his legs would no co-operate. By the time he was upright and taking a few tentative steps the infected man they had seen was upon him, and had sunk his teeth into Fred’s shoulder. A surge of adrenaline briefly gave Fred strength to fight off his attacker, but it did not last long. When Jose looked back he saw Fred lying motionless on the ground while bloody chunks of flesh were torn from him. He paused, as there was nothing else chasing them, and watched blood dripping down the face of the cannibal, and the look of satisfaction in its eyes as it ate. Soon the eyes changed, shifting lustily towards the new target that stood motionless.
While Jose hesitated, Matt reached the flats, with the rest of the gang behind him, spread out by their various levels of fitness. He hadn’t stopped to look at the building that he was approaching. It always looked a mess, none of them could have afforded to live there if it was nice, but it had moved onto a different scale of dishevelment and disrepair. Overlooking this, Matt raced up the first flight of stairs that would take him towards his own home.
A figure appeared at the top of the stairs coming in the other direction. Matt did not have time to react. His momentum continued to carry him forwards as a fat woman in her late forties, half jumped, half fell down the stairs towards him. They met near the top, before tumbling together and landing on the floor below. Matt was pinned below her excessive bulk. He had hit his head and was dazed, but still knew enough to struggle desperately. There had been a gun in his hand, but he had no idea where it was now. All he knew was a stench of stale sweat, a crushing weight of soft flesh above him, the pain of an arm that had been broken and several other minor injuries, and that if he didn’t do something to escape quickly his life was over.
His struggle was hopeless. Nicotine stained fingers clawed at him, while caffeine stained teeth bit into his throat. He heard the snap of the bones in his windpipe, and felt the warm blood flowing down his neck before he felt the searing pain. His strength to fight left him. There was no coming back from this. He hoped death would be quick.
Jed approached in time to see the end of the struggle, hitting the brakes and finding himself within a couple of feet of it. The monstrosity of a woman saw the fresh target and tried to get to her feet, with her mouth still full of Matt’s throat. Her first victim still lived, but was already forgotten. Jed did not hesitate long. He put a bullet through her head while she was still on all fours. Blood splattered onto the floor and the walls around her. She collapsed dead, sprawled on top of Matt in what would have been an obscene position in normal circumstances. Matt survived the damage to his throat for long enough to be smothered to death by her enormous, sagging breasts.
Without stopping to check on his friend, Jed collected the gun that had been dropped in the fall and retrieved it. He handed it to Tim, who had come up behind him, with the instruction, “Don’t drop it.” The conversation ended there. There was noise breaking out in the flats beside them and above them. The infected were all around them, and they had just made their presence very obvious.
The two turned and ran straight into the dozen people following them. There was a momentary deadlock as they stood in each other’s way, before everyone realized the danger they were in and turned back. There was a growing commotion behind them as the infected tried to get out of the flats they were in, or to navigate the stairs and other obstacles between them and the next victims. As the gang got clear of the block of flats, there was a crash behind them. They tuned and saw that a crushed body had landed a few feet from them. Looking up th
ey saw two more fling themselves from the upper stories. The first landed head first and its crushed skull and brain matter splattered across the concrete. The second landed feet first. Both legs snapped in multiple places. Shards of bone tore through the jeans it was wearing. As far as they could tell its back had also snapped. It tried to get to its feet, but finding that ineffective started to drag itself along the ground towards them.
Jose re-joined the group ready to tell them that Fred was dead, and that a couple more of the infected were now coming towards them, but found that the predicament that everyone else already knew about was far worse. Jed quickly made a decision for all of them. With the command, “This way,” he started running.
He had the sense to recognize that he could not run far, and that those chasing them, evidently feeling no pain, were likely to feel no fatigue. If shattered legs and a broken back was not enough to deter pursuit, then a bit of a stitch definitely wouldn’t be either. But the infected ran awkwardly. They weren’t slow, but they could be out run for as long as you could keep sprinting. The gang quickly opened up a gap between themselves and the infected, who slowed each other down in trying to get through the narrow exits, and were hit by those falling on them from above.
Jed led them around a couple of corners so they were out of sight of those pursuing them. They hadn’t run far, but were already in a far nicer area. Old Victorian buildings had been converted into modern apartments, rented out to young professionals, and the better off students. If they carried on the road would lead to stand alone houses, the best of them with garages and gardens. They couldn’t run that far in one sprint. They’d already pushed their luck in that they hadn’t ran headlong into another hostile group.
Jed led them towards the nearest block of flats. Everyone followed assuming that he had a solution to their current predicament. It was not an elegant solution, but he had something. As they approached the building, Becky was beside him, still carrying a cricket bat. He told her to smash the window, and she obeyed. It was noisy, but there was enough attention on them that the risk seemed reasonable. She knocked out a few shards of glass, then was the first through the window. The rest started to pile through behind her without waiting to see if it was safe. They were wrong.
The Farm Page 11
