Plagued

by Barnett, Nicola

  The dark haired man screamed in agony and ran away to the left of them, followed closely by the blonde, who was now laughing happily with a bright-red face.

  “Now, we’ve got to go!” Mark said, seeing his opportunity. He grabbed Sarah’s arm and pulled her to her feet.

  “Which way?!”

  “Straight ahead!” he said and ran forwards, pulling Sarah with him. “Hurry, before they come back!”

  They ran straight as fast as their legs would carry them leaving the manic screams further behind with every step of their feet. Sarah’s ankle pain was forgotten as her body filled with adrenaline and her chest burned as she gasped desperately for air.

  A dead tree appeared in front of them and Mark leaped over it in one fluid motion but Sarah didn’t see it in time and tried to leap clumsily at the last second. Her toes caught on the trunk and pain shot through her ankle and calf as she toppled over it, hitting the ground hard. In a blind panic, she scrambled to get back on her feet but pain shot through her twisted ankle as she put weight on it. She screamed in agony. A warm feeling dribbled down her fingers and she looked to see a small branch sticking into the side of her wrist.

  Mark appeared then and pulled out the branch without warning, sending a burning pain shooting up Sarah’s arm. She screamed again and her head swam, trying to fight the urge to pass out.

  Mark, feeling her body go limp, pulled her arm over his shoulder and lifted her off the ground in one swift move. “We have to go now!” he yelled.

  Screams came from the left and an excited voice shouted something but it didn’t make sense. Two men appeared at the side of them, one of them was naked and both looking directly at the spot where Sarah and Mark were getting to their feet — they’d heard Sarah’s scream.

  Sarah braced herself against Mark and tried her best to run alongside him, the screams were getting closer and closer. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and the pain died down and soon she was able to let go of Mark and run unaided. They ran straight, not knowing where they were headed but not caring, wanting only to escape their pursuers.

  Mark looked backwards, hearing the mashing of teeth, to see two males directly behind them, snarling at him. They’re closing in too quickly.

  Suddenly the trees disappeared and the two of them stepped out into a large clearing and light flooded their eyes. In the centre — illuminated by the sunlight — long, black and charred shapes were piled up into a heap that must have reached twenty feet in height. They soon became aware of an intense buzzing sound that grew as they stepped towards the pile in front of them. The air turned rancid, filling with a strange, sour odour that felt so thick in the air that it left them gasping for breath.

  Around the pile stood a large group of infected — some were completely naked, covered in blackened sores and dirt. Mark and Sarah watched them for a moment, forgetting completely about their pursuers. An emaciated, naked woman with short, red hair pulled a long, charred object off the pile that resembled a large branch and bit into it ravenously. Another woman — this one much taller and heavier — saw her and tried to snatch it out of her hands. They fought over it, each getting hold of the stick and biting into it, pulling it between them like a game of Tug o’ War.

  “Oh my God,” Sarah whispered in disgust, “That’s an arm, isn’t it? A human arm!”

  All Mark could do was nod silently, holding his hand over his mouth and nose, watching in morbid fascination.

  A scream from behind them broke the spell. Mark spun around. The group that had chased them were directly behind them and running straight at them. Mark didn’t have time to react, instinctively he raised his hands to his face to shield it from what would come, hearing Sarah’s panicked cry next to him. Mark felt a sudden weight hit his left shoulder as an infected man collided with it and Mark braced for an onslaught. But it didn’t come — the infected ran straight past them, ignoring them completely as they carried on straight towards the pile of bodies in the centre. Mark and Sarah watched in surprise as the newcomers scrambled up the pile, ripping and pulling at anything they could get their hands on.

  “They must be starving,” said Mark with a grimace.

  The squelching and mashing sound as the infected attempted to eat the rotting, burned flesh was too much for Sarah — as was the smell — and she vomited violently, spewing a watery cracker mixture onto the ground. “This can’t be happening,” she said between gasps.

  “It is,” Mark whispered and then his eyes lit up. “This is our chance, come on!”

  He grabbed Sarah’s arm and pulled her towards the edge of the clearing on the right, in the same moment that the blonde, naked woman who had been punched in the face remembered what she had been doing before she got distracted.

  She turned around and saw the two of them as they bolted back into the tree line. She shrieked loudly, pointing towards them and a few of her friends that weren’t feasting turned around to see what the commotion was. They began yelling to each other their indistinguishable language as they watched the two figures disappearing into the woods, before jumping to their feet and giving chase.

  “Shit!” Sarah screamed in panic. She was trying her best to keep up with Mark, who was right in front of her but gaining quickly. “They’re catching up!”

  Mark heard her voice falling further behind and he turned swiftly, grabbing her arm to help her keep up. They ran straight ahead now, the voices behind them getting closer and closer.

  “Saaa!” The bald infected yelled from behind them, waving his arms in the air as he ran clumsily with a seemingly impossible speed for a man his size. Then he tripped over his foot, hitting the floor with a large crash.

  Some of the others saw this moment of weakness and decided to strike. They began piling on top of his naked body, forgetting about their chase. They ripped at his skin, clawing frantically at the loose folds as they laughed hysterically.

  The rest of the group, however, paid no attention to the carnage that was breaking out and carried on running, their eyes firmly locked on to their targets and their teeth bared.

  “I can’t run anymore!” Sarah said, gasping for air. A searing pain burned in her lungs and she wheezed with every quickened breath. Her legs had become shaky and weak—she wondered how many more steps she could take before they gave way beneath her.

  “You have to!” Mark said. “We’ve—”

  An infected man leapt out of the bushes then and launched himself at Sarah, grabbing her leg. She screamed as they fell to the ground together. He tightened his grip on her ankles and started trying to drag her backwards in to the bushes, the muscles in his neck stretching and tensing to their limits. He laughed wildly and Sarah saw half of a tongue wiggling inside his mouth, blood pouring from it and down his chin. In a fit of madness, she found herself wondering where the other half had gone as she grasped the ground frantically around her, feeling for her baseball bat without luck.

  Giving up on the bat, she pulled at her right leg with all of her strength and tried to wiggle it free. The grip on it loosened as he lost his grip on the thrashing leg. Sarah reacted quickly, kicking at the man’s head in desperation. Something crunched beneath her foot and the man let out a high-pitched scream. He let go of Sarah’s other ankle and cupped his nose in his hands as blood began pouring through his fingers and down his arms. He whimpered for a second, pouting like a small child with a graze on his knee, and then jumped straight back for her, pulling and clawing at her legs. Sarah let out an agonized scream as the man’s nails pierced her flesh, causing red-hot pain to shoot through her calf. She heard the man’s teeth snapping at her leg and she tried to pull it away.

  Something flew past Sarah’s head, causing her to flinch, and it hit her attacker square in the face. He wailed in excruciating pain and Sarah opened her eyes to see why — the handle of Mark’s crowbar had stuck firmly into his eye socket and its victim was desperately trying to pull it out, wiggling it from side to side to dislodge it. Thick, glutinous blood trickled fro
m around it and leaked straight into his open mouth. Sarah retched.

  Mark shot passed her on the right and grabbed the crowbar, pushing it as far into the man’s skull as he could. The infected man fought with Mark, both of their hands firmly on the crowbar, pulling and pushing in different directions. The man was screaming and frothing at the mouth as it crunched further into his skull, Mark’s strength over-powering his own. He gargled as his own blood filled his mouth in torrents. Sarah stood up behind Mark and tried to pull him away, seeing that the struggle was over and the man was dead, but he wouldn’t let go. His face was contorted in rage as he pushed the crowbar through the man’s skull and it shot through the other side.

  “Come on, Mark, we’ve got to go!” Sarah screamed, pulling at his arms. “He’s dead!”

  Her anger snapped Mark out of his fit of rage and he pulled the crowbar out of the man’s head, leaving his lifeless body to slump to the ground. Wailing filled the air as Mark and Sarah turned to flee and five infected came crashing through the bushes, only stopping when they saw the lifeless body of their friend. They studied the body for a second, and then looked up with angry faces as they saw the backs of the two people who had killed him.

  Although there was no loyalty between the infected, they still didn’t appreciate their members being killed by the uninfected. That was their game and one that they enjoyed thoroughly. The five infected gave chase; screaming and leaping through the grass until their prey were feet away and losing their speed.

  Mark and Sarah were tiring quickly now, their bodies were crippled with fatigue and their feet were beginning to feel like they were covered in cement. They struggled to weave in between the trees, panting heavily as they listened to the laboured screams of the infected that were nearly in arm’s reach of them.

  The thought of giving up crossed Sarah’s mind. She was without a weapon and near collapse, her lungs burned and she desperately needed water. It was hopeless. She slowed down her pace for a step or two and the lead infected — a young man with a large bird tattooed on his hairless chest — made a swipe at her jacket and managed to grab it. Sarah let out a weak cry as she freed one arm from it, trying in vain to pull out.

  Mark turned around; completely unaware of what was going on. Seeing Sarah’s weak struggle as the other four infected caught up with her, gave him a burst of energy that he didn’t think was possible. He leapt towards Sarah and grabbed her free arm as the other infected reached her. Mark yanked her arm towards him and her trapped one ripped free of the jacket, leaving it in the tattooed man’s hands.

  Before they could react, Mark pulled Sarah with the last of his strength through some smaller trees in a desperate attempt to lose those behind them. Branches scratched at their skin, leaving small cuts on their faces but they didn’t care.

  A flash of green fields was the last thing they saw as they burst through the trees, before the ground beneath them disappeared and they plummeted downwards.

  Branches and stones scraped at them and they slid down the muddy drop and they clawed at the ground, hoping to grasp onto something that would slow their fall. Mark hit his head on a rock and pain shot through it, lights flashing in front of his eyes and disorientating him.

  A branch sliced into Sarah’s thigh and she screamed, trying to grasp a root that she spotted in the corner of her eye. She wrapped her hands around it and she slowed for a moment, thanking God internally until it snapped and she began sliding again. She heard Mark hit the ground with a thud and she braced herself for impact, unable to make out the distance below. Suddenly, she stopped rolling and felt nothing beneath her but air. Her stomach flopped as she freefell for what seemed like an eternity and closed her eyes as she smacked into the ground below.

  The impact was softer than she had expected—thanks to the layer of untamed grass on the ground—and the fall did nothing but wind her.

  After taking a few desperate breaths, she lifted herself slowly off of her back to see what was causing the burning pain in her thigh. She let out a whimper as she saw a thick twig piercing her jeans and sticking out, standing perfectly upright. She pulled it out without thinking, crying out between clenched teeth at the pain. Blood rolled down her jeans but she ignored it and laid back on the ground, arms and legs spread out like she was trying to make a snow angel.

  Mark dusted himself off nearby, examining the blood dripping from the cuts on his arms and chest—nothing too serious. He saw Sarah and walked over to her laboriously, wincing with every step. She looked up at him and they smiled at each other in disbelief.

  He pulled her to her feet and they followed each other’s gaze to the top of the ridge they had tumbled down. Two infected stood at the top, nearly out of sight. They were throwing something bloody and round at each other, pulling at it and ripping pieces of the hard shell away. After a while of chewing at it and spitting its contents at each other in a red spray, they turned around and ran back into the woods, laughing hysterically.

  Sarah and Mark leaned against two nearby tree trunks and caught their breath, shaking their heads at each other in relief.

  Sarah pulled one of Albert’s bandages out of the backpack and tied it around her thigh where the branch had dug in. “That was too close!” she said, laughing a little as she checked her handiwork. “Are you okay? He didn’t bite you did he?”

  “No, I’m fine,” he replied, laughing with her. “I don’t know how though.” He nursed the lump at the side of his head, feeling sorry for himself.

  “Thanks for saving me back there,” Sarah said, walking towards him. She grasped his hand and gave it a tentative squeeze.

  “Just here to serve,” Mark said, grinning cheekily.

  “I’ll remember that,” she said, “because if I fall over again, you’re carrying me.”

  “You know, back there climbing the tree...?” Mark said with a devilish grin, as they left the last remaining part of the woods.

  “Yes?” she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

  “I felt your arse,” he grinned at her triumphantly.

  Sarah’s mouth fell open at she shot him a glare. “That’s the first thing that comes to your mind?” she said, shaking her head and storming off in front.

  “It wasn’t half bad either.”

  Chapter 7

  Sarah and Mark had been walking through what was left of the woodland for half an hour before they reached the end. Their spirits were high — they hadn’t seen a single soul since they fell — despite being tired, hungry, and having increasingly achy bodies.

  Sarah's feet had gained blisters long ago and by now they were red raw. She limped carefully onward, wincing with every step. Besides her aching muscles and sore feet, she felt okay — numbed, in fact. She had been in a daze for the past fifteen minutes and they both had walked the last stretch of the woods without speaking a word. They decided they wouldn’t sit down until they reached shelter in fear of not being able to get back up again.

  She began thinking of her parents and the daunting fear that they were already dead. She had blocked out the thought until now, the pain of losing her parents had been much too deep to contemplate. She just had to believe they were okay. Her father was a strong man, he’d know exactly what to do and protect her mother at all costs. Slowly, her memories were beginning to return to her intact, the muddled cloud in her brain was clearing and she found herself reminiscing to times long before she fell down the rabbit hole.

  Mark stopped in his tracks and broke Sarah out of her spell. He grabbed her arm and pulled her down to the ground, where they both squatted in the low bushes.

  “What is it?” she whispered, the bushes in front blocking her view.

  “It looks like there's a farm ahead,” he whispered back. “It could be crawling with them.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud! Not again.” She was too exhausted to start running. She crept upwards to get a better view and her heart jumped as she saw a roof in the distance.

  They moved closer to it, curiosity outweig
hing fear, and very slowly crept through the tall weeds. As they moved forward, the roof grew and soon they could be see it belonged to a large, weathered barn house. They both waited with baited breath to see if it was deserted. Nothing moved around them and the clearing was soundless but for the birds, which had started singing cheerfully in the setting sun. A bat flew past their heads, squeaking in the high-pitched way that they do, using their version of sonar to catch moths.

  “It looks deserted. I hope it is, we certainly can't go back the way we came,” Sarah whispered. “If there are farms, we must be getting close to Solitude.”

  Mark, frowning, took one last look and sighed. “Okay, but we're going to have to be quiet. We don't know what we're going to find.”

  “Anything's better that what's back there,” Sarah said, pointing back the way they had come and Mark nodded defeat.

  The light of day had dimmed quickly and the weather turning cooler with it, the forest was darkening — soon it would be completely black. Screams came from far, far behind them and Sarah winced at the sound.