Plagued

by Barnett, Nicola

  “Stop upsettin’ the girl, Mitch, she’s gonna attract the whole fucking lot of ‘em!” a second male voice said. “And we’re not done with her just yet.”

  Laughter erupted and the woman cried loudly.

  “Please don’t kill me! I don’t want to die!” the woman shrieked.

  “You’re lucky we found you when we did, little lady. There are some real fucking weirdoes out here these days,” the second man said and burst into laughter.

  The one called Mitch laughed at this, ‘whooping’ squeakily like a hyena.

  “What are we going to do with her, boss? We could take her back with us — the other guys would love her!” Squeaky Mitch said.

  “What, so they can take her for themselves and leave us out to dry again? Fuck that! We’ll do her right here. We can always take her after. Duke would be pleased with us either way; he’s got enough bitches of his own!”

  “No!” the woman screamed and then it sounded like a struggle was taking place — there was an audible ‘thump’ and a male voice groaned.

  “Fucking bitch kicked me in the nuts!” Mitch shrieked. “I’m going to slit your fucking throat for that!”

  Footsteps running over glass, then the sound of a scuffle, the woman screamed frantically and then another loud slap.

  “Fuck you!” the woman screamed, angrily.

  “That’s enough of you, little bitch, more fucking trouble that your pussy’s worth,” the second man said.

  The woman screamed in pain, it turned slowly into a gargle and then she fell completely silent.

  “Little bitch!” Mitch yelled, doing his hyena laugh again.

  “C’mon, let’s take her back now, see what the boss can do with this meat,” the second man said.

  “Good, I’m starving! It’s been days since we’ve seen even a fucking rat and I’m so sick of that tinned crap. Don’t know why we have to keep up appearances for that prick,” Mitch moaned.

  “Me too, Mitch, me too. I guess those fucking infected freaks eat a lot. Though it’s a shame she had to try and bolt, I was gettin’ horny,” the other man said.

  They laughed and their footsteps gradually faded away.

  Sarah and Mark stayed huddled under the counter for a while longer until, apart from Sarah’s muffled cries, there were no more sounds from the outside. Mark released his arms from around her and lifted her chin gently with his fingertips to study her. Her eyes were red with tears and she shook heavily. Mark’s face was still stony, but he frowned.

  “It’s okay now,” he whispered. “They’re gone.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  “They killed her!” she cried. “That poor woman! We should have helped her!”

  Mark rose to his feet and helped Sarah to hers — he put his arms around her and hugged her tight. “There was nothing we could do, Sarah. They would have killed us.”

  It was warm in his arms. She wrapped hers around his waist and burst into tears again. Mark rubbed her back gently and let her cry, feeling her body shake beneath his.

  After a while, her whimpering died down. She let go of his waist and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket.

  Outside the shop, it was light and the sun reflected off of the glass on the floor, twinkling in the sunlight.

  “I’m sorry,” Sarah said, sniffling. “I just can’t believe what I just heard. How can people be so cruel?”

  “I know it’s a shock. Now do you see why I wanted to come with you? The world’s changed, Sarah,” Mark said and offered her his hand. “Come on, we can’t stay here.”

  She looked at his outstretched hand and for a second a memory of Jack’s warm hands intertwined with hers filled her head so strongly that she nearly saw it through her eyes. She smiled weakly at Mark as the memory faded and grabbed his offered hand. They stepped out of the shop door and carefully walked down the left lane of the junction, their spirits low.

  Chapter 4

  Once they’d turned off the main high streets, it was a lot quicker to get to the outskirts of town. Smaller stores like little grocery stores and cafes filled this district and the roads were a little clearer. They walked past a small sporting goods store and Mark stopped.

  “You want to see if there’s anything better we can use as weapons?” he asked.

  “In a sports store?” Sarah scoffed.

  “Yeah, there could be baseball bats or cricket bats in there. I take it you’re not a sporting lady?” he smirked.

  “The only sport I’ve ever played is swingball.”

  Mark let out a loud laugh as they walked to the entrance.

  The door was mostly glass and despite having a few cracks, it had remained intact. He pushed the door in hopes that someone forgot to lock it. Surprisingly, it gave way and opened.

  It was dark inside — the position of the shop’s windows meant that the sun didn’t shine through at this time in the morning. A strong, odour filled the air and made Sarah gag.

  “Is that sewage?” Sarah asked, holding her nose.

  “Probably, it’s damp in here too,” Mark said, stomping his feet on the blue carpet and watching water splash around. “There must be a blocked toilet in the back or something.”

  “Good, I thought it was me,” Sarah said, only half joking.

  Mark turned and looked her up and down, a smirk on his face. He crinkled his nose. Sarah’s mouth dropped open and she slapped him on the upper arm.

  “Ow!” he said, feigning injury.

  “Cheeky sod,” Sarah replied, trying to hide a smile.

  On the left wall hung sporting clothes — jogging bottoms, Lycra vests and swimming gear, a lot of which had fallen off their racks and now lay in piles on the sodden floor. On the right wall hung nets filled with footballs of different sizes and colours and a smaller net held tennis and cricket balls. A sign offered people two for the price of one on all of them.

  The counter and cash register were at the back and it was there that they found what they were looking for. On shelves along the back wall stood various coloured baseball bats, golf clubs, and cricket bats. On the other sides of the wall hung rackets of different sizes and smaller shelves held golf balls, tees and smaller sporting goods.

  Mark reached for a silvery baseball bat on the shelf and pulled it down. He whacked it onto his other hand and it made a metallic ‘clink’ sound. “Perfect,” he smiled and handed it to Sarah.

  She took it from him and dropped her sharpened piece of wood on the floor. “That’s better. It’s been pretty embarrassing carrying this thing around.” She smiled triumphantly. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I don’t think I can stand that smell for much longer.”

  They walked out of the shop and fresh air hit them straight away. Sarah breathed deep to get a lungful and sighed as she exhaled. “I don’t think I’ll ever get that smell out of my nose.”

  “It has been a long time since you had a bath,” Mark sneered.

  “Do you think it’s wise to taunt a woman with a baseball bat?” she said, tapping the bat against her palm, eyebrow raised.

  “Good point. Maybe later then,” Mark said, holding his arms up in defeat.

  They carried on their journey towards the edge of town. All was quiet as they passed streets and deserted roads, no sign of anyone else; infected or not, but they kept a vigilant eye on both sides of the road. They passed through a small residential area —beautiful little cottages, well decorated bungalows, winding roads, and cul-de-sacs were all that resided there. This was definitely the more expensive side of the neighbourhood. The people that lived here were either in their golden years, retired and settling down, or they were new families, wanting to keep out of the hustle and bustle of the city centre.

  Where there once sat gardens with beautifully kept lawns, was now overgrown grass covered in litter and expensive cars crashed and wrecked on the sides of the roads. Windows had been smashed and household objects thrown onto the curbs. Windows were splattered with the same brown liquid that Sarah had noticed ea
rlier and again, Sarah didn’t let the thought of what it was enter her mind.

  Though she had been trying to seem unaffected by the incident at the computer shop, inside she was reeling. Her nerves were shot and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, flashes of the woman’s screams entered her mind randomly and she felt as though with the slightest trigger, her poorly maintained demeanour would fragment and she would descend into madness.

  “Why haven’t we seen any infected people around?” she asked, trying to concentrate on the world around her.

  “I don’t know, maybe because there’s no one around to provide stimulus,” Mark shrugged. “For now, let’s be pleased about it. We’ll worry about them when we see them.”

  They headed along the road into a small cul-de-sac with four red-bricked bungalows around it. The sun was now high in the sky and the morning’s shadows had been chased away. From here they could see a wooden gate in-between the last two bungalows, this led to the woodland trail that they needed to follow all the way to Solitude. Because of the buildings on either side, all they could see of the trail was a cobblestone path leading into blackness.

  As they walked towards the end of the cul-de-sac, Mark froze on the spot, his eyes fixed on something in front of him.

  “What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, gripping the bat in her right hand tight. Her heart began to race.

  Mark pointed the last bungalow on the left, next to the trail without saying a word. His crowbar was in his hand and he raised it up as if it was a baseball bat.

  Sarah scanned the bungalow and its front lawn nervously. Nothing moved in the darkness of the windows and there was nothing on the front lawn to hide behind — it was empty. She began to calm down, obviously just a false alarm. She turned to face Mark and shrugged but before Mark could react, a long, drawn out creak came from behind her and she spun around to face the bungalow.

  On the right side of the building was a six-foot high gate that blocked the view of the back garden and — as the two of them watched in horror — the gate slowly opened, the hinges squeaking loudly as it did.

  A shirtless man with shoeless, blood-stained feet stepped out from behind the gate, his suit pants covered in brown stains and they stuck to his skin. He looked to be in his mid-thirties but it was hard to tell with the state of his face and body: his chest and arms were covered in black, crusty lumps that were smudged with dark brown stains. His face was nearly black with dirt and his dark hair was spotted with bald patches. The puppet-like way he moved his arms and legs, and his large, twitching eyes made him look completely insane — the wide grin displaying red-stained teeth didn’t help either. He searched the car park excitedly, like a child looking for a new toy, and then his eyes locked on to Mark. His eyes lit up and his mouth fell open as if in happy surprise at his new visitors.

  “Fuck,” Mark muttered and slowly stepped backwards, never taking his eyes of him.

  The infected man began jumping up and down on the spot, laughing hysterically. Sarah watched the man in shock, trying to stop herself from running in case it caused the man to leap into action.

  “We’ve got to go,” Mark whispered. “You see the cottage behind us? Back towards it but don’t run.”

  Sarah nodded and with Mark, began slowly back-stepping towards the curb behind them. The infected man stopped jumping and stared at them, a dramatic look of hurt on his face. Sarah paused for a second, fooled by the very human emotion on the man’s face. The man’s down-turned mouth curled upwards into a toothy smile that didn’t reach his eyes and he blew a kiss to her through bloody hands. Bile rose in Sarah’s throat and she could take it no longer — she turned around and fled towards the bungalow across from them.

  “Sarah!” Mark screamed and ran after her.

  The infected man saw his opportunity and sprinted after them with amazing speed, laughing angrily. Sarah, who was not as fast a runner, ran towards the front gate of the bungalow and fumbled with the latch with trembling hands. It wouldn’t budge. She looked behind her to see Mark gaining on her, closely followed by the infected man.

  “Over the fence!” Mark screamed.

  “Ov fence! Ov fence!” the infected mocked, laughing wildly.

  Sarah willed herself to climb over the fence but her legs wouldn’t move, fear had taken over her body and she watched helplessly as Mark’s pursuer grabbed onto his jacket, trying to pull him to the floor. She let out a scream.

  Mark tried to shake the man off him and run towards Sarah but the grip on his clothing was remarkably strong. He could feel himself being pulled backwards and knew he’d have to act fast. He spun around swiftly and the infected man released his grip, a comical look of surprise on his face — but that didn’t last for long. He burst into manic laughter and clawed out for Mark’s face but Mark moved to the side and swung his right arm around, connecting the crowbar to the side of the man’s head. The man fell to the floor, clutching at the wound on his head and screamed. His legs began thrashing wildly, clearly in agony as blood poured from his eyes and nose. Mark hit him again and again in the same spot, crushing the man’s hands as they cradled his own skull.

  Sarah turned away from them, listening to the cracking blows and the infected man’s dying screams as they faded out into nothing. She stood there in silence, unable to turn around as footsteps approached her.

  “Are you okay?” Mark panted, appearing at her side.

  Sarah nodded and turned to face Mark, trying to ignore the bloody heap in the road that she saw in the corner of her eye. “Are you?”

  “I’m fine. This is not the first time I’ve had to do that.” Mark was panting and beads of sweat dripped from his forehead. He wiped blood from his hands on to his jeans.

  “He spoke to you,” Sarah said, looking at the mess dripping off of Mark’s crowbar onto the asphalt.

  “Yeah, they do that sometimes,” Mark said distractedly as he looked towards the trail. “Come on, we really should go now.”

  Sarah only took a few steps towards the trail when she heard a noise that sounded like crying coming from the bungalow they were stood next to.

  Mark heard the sound and carried on walking.

  “Wait!” Sarah whispered, running after him. “There’s someone in there!”

  “We can’t get involved, Sarah,” Mark whispered back. He stopped walking and turned back to her. “It could be one of them.”

  Another little burst of crying came from the bungalow, it sounded female.

  “Wouldn’t she be out here already after the commotion we made, if she was infected? She could be hurt. We have to see if she’s okay,” Sarah said and walked back towards the bungalow.

  “It’s not our problem!” Mark growled between gritted teeth, getting annoyed.

  Sarah stopped outside the gate and folded her arms. She looked at him, frowning angrily. “I’m not going anywhere until we see if she needs help!”

  Mark kicked the fence in frustration, swearing under his breath as Sarah turned her back to him and walked up the path.

  “Sarah!” he whispered loudly and ran to her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. She looked at him, her face red and her eyes were bright and wild.

  “I’m sorry,” Mark sighed, surprised at the passion behind her anger, “I know I sound harsh Sarah, but we’re going to get ourselves killed if we go in there.”

  “Well, if you hadn’t helped me, I’d probably be dead now.”

  Mark fell silent. He looked away, contemplating what she said. He hadn’t thought of that aspect. “It’s not our problem though, Sarah. We can’t save everyone.”

  “I can try,” she hissed between closed teeth. She pushed past him quickly and ran to the front door. Mark yelled after her but it was too late, she was already inside.

  ~

  Sarah had walked in without really thinking, her anger and frustration at Mark had taken over and she’d done it to prove a point. How could he be so cold?

  The hallway was dark and all the doors were closed. Broken plan
t pots and the shards of a mirror lay across the hallway floor. The wallpaper, that had once been white, was dotted with brown splash marks.

  “I think we should leave,” Mark said, following Sarah closely.

  “You leave then!” she whispered angrily.

  Mark muttered something under his breath but Sarah caught the word ‘stubborn’ and it made her smile triumphantly to herself. Piss off, she thought and mentally gave him the finger.

  The crying seemed to be coming from upstairs. Sarah paused in her tracks and waited for her reluctant travel companion to catch up before slowly and quietly walking up the staircase. The beige carpet cushioned their foot-steps. But every few steps the floorboards retorted with a creak and every time, Sarah and Mark stopped dead and listened to see if their noise had been heard. If the woman had heard them, she hadn’t stopped crying. Her soft gentle weeping continued.