Plagued

by Barnett, Nicola

  “If we're going, we better get a move on,” Mark said and they crept onwards, using everything they could to hide behind. “And please try not to fall over again, I know it’s difficult but it would be really helpful—”

  A sharp smack to the back of his head stopped him mid-sentence and he laughed, rubbing this new pain away.

  “You’ve got a smart mouth,” Sarah’s voice came from behind him.

  “Thanks.”

  “It wasn’t a compliment.”

  A barbed-wire fence with a closed metal gate came into view. A good sign, Sarah thought, although the bloodied rag of cloth caught on the wire was not. Behind the gate and to right of the barn was a small cottage with cream-coloured brickwork that was greying with age.

  They walked up to the gate quietly, listening to the night and watching intently for any movement coming from the farm ahead. In the coming darkness, they could just make out the ivy trellis on the side of the cottage and the windows were boarded up from the inside. No movement or light. To the left of the cottage, the old barn's double doors were closed — chain wrapped around the handles and was locked with a large padlock.

  When they got to the gate, Mark pushed it open; it squeaked but gave way and they walked inside. The ground was muddy and wet, every step was unsteady in the darkness and Sarah kept a strong grip on Mark's hand.

  With Mark holding the crowbar tightly, they trudged towards the cottage, feet squelching in the mud with every step. He stopped to look at the barn and narrowed his eyes to get a better view. “You see that on the ground?”

  Sarah squinted as her eyes tried to focus in the dark. She followed the dark, muddy ground towards the barn until her eyes noticed the large, round, darker patches that were laid on it. It looked like large lumps that — in any other place but in front of a barn door —could have been rocks. “I can't tell what it is, it's too dark. What do you think they are?”

  “I'm not sure. I thought they were bodies but they aren't the right shape. Not for humans,” Mark whispered, still trying to focus in the night.

  Sarah shuddered. “They’re cows I think, or sheep.”

  “Well since they're lying down instead of attacking us, I don't think they're going to be a problem.”

  “Have you been attacked by many cows?” Sarah asked, sarcastically.

  “Do angry women count?”

  Sarah laughed and shook her head in mock disgust.

  They were facing the front of the cottage. The wooden door was a dark shade in the night; maybe green or blue with a small square window at the top which was boarded up. There were planters on the windowsills and the ivy grew tall up the sides of the house. Probably a beautiful place, once upon a time — maybe the stage of a romantic flick, Sarah mused. Or a horror.

  Slowly, she walked up to the front door and strained to hear anything coming from inside. Mark followed her closely. She tried the door, even though she had a good idea it would be locked since someone went through the effort of boarding up the windows. To her surprise, it wasn't. She gently pulled the handle and the door creaked open. An overwhelming sense of vulnerability came over her as the two of them stared into the face of darkness.

  Mark took the lead then, pushing Sarah to the back of him protectively and stepped up onto the stone doorstep. Somewhere in the back he saw a very faint flicker of light and he knew he wasn’t alone. He motioned for Sarah to stay put and before she could protest, he moved into the room. He realized he was still holding his breath as his lungs started to burn, and gently exhaled.

  As soon as he stepped onto the hard tile floor in the cottage, there was a metallic sound close to his right ear. He froze.

  “What is it?” Sarah asked.

  He didn't answer her. Instead, he put his left hand behind his back in a 'stay put' motion and raised his right arm. A shape moved out of the shadows next to him, he could see it in the corner of his eye. It was human and it had a very big gun.

  “Now it's not nice to enter someone's house without even knockin’. In fact, it damn right pisses me off,” a creaky voice said. It was female and its crackle made it sound elderly.

  Sarah walked into the house at this moment, standing directly behind Mark and she raised her hands in the air like she'd always seen on police documentaries.

  “We mean you no harm, ma’am,” Mark said in his kindest voice, dropping the crowbar he'd been carrying. “We thought it was empty and just wanted some shelter for the night. We're sorry to have intruded.”

  “Well you have just found out for yourself that it is not empty. You are now trespassin’ in my home and I am well within my rights to shoot you both in the ass if you don’t tell me what you’re up to,” the old lady said. “And don’t call me ma’am.”

  “We’re trying to get to Solitude. We got lost in the woods so we’re looking for somewhere to stay. Its dark out and the infected are everywhere, haven’t you noticed?” Sarah said, nervously.

  “Yes, I damn well have noticed, Miss Smart-Ass, do you think I'm stupid as well as old? They killed my cattle. I had to shoot my own husband! So don't ask me stupid questions,” the woman interrupted in a shrill voice.

  Sarah and Mark went silent. Mark backed away a little, staring into the barrel of the gun as he did, feeling pretty sure he was going to get shot.

  The lady lowered her gun from Mark's face and walked out of view. There was a hiss and then a small, orange light flickered into life across the room. She picked up the lantern and laid the shotgun on the kitchen counter.

  Sarah and Mark sighed quietly with relief. Mark's shoulders dropped back down and they lowered their hands, still unsure whether to speak.

  In the dim lantern light, they could just see the person carrying it — she was smaller than Sarah was and very thin. Her hair was grey and tied back in a bun, a few ringlets flowing around her face. She looked a lot younger than she sounded, with only a few age lines around her eyes and forehead, which were only deepened by her current frowning. They guessed she was around her early sixties and she wore muddy dungarees over a chequered shirt, it was hard to tell what colour in the orange light, but Mark thought it was red. She had a cigarette in her mouth and the smoke rose into the air in front of her face, curling and swaying in the breeze. She stared at them, looking slightly pissed off.

  “You have a lovely home,” Sarah commented feebly, glancing around the room.

  They stood in a small kitchen that had tiled floors and pine counters with an old-style gas cooker and shelves covered in vases and knick-knacks. Most of the pots were broken, the curtains were torn down, and all the windows boarded up with what seemed to be parts of the dining table and inner doors.

  “Thank you. It was a lovely home. Now it’s a shit tip,” the woman hissed, moodily.

  She walked towards Mark and looked him up and down slowly, blowing cigarette smoke into the air. Her forehead lines finally reduced and the distrusting expression left her face. “Well,” she said, facing them both and taking the cigarette out of her mouth, “you're not infected that's for sure. You wouldn't be so coherent...lucky you, I woulda shot you both dead if I thought otherwise.”

  Sarah and Mark looked at each other wide-eyed and stayed silent, as neither wanted to ruin her better spirit.

  “So, you've made a break for it have you?” The woman continued, “Can't think of why anyone would walk this far out of town in this mess. Why you need to get to Solitude so badly, anyway?”

  “I — I'm looking for my family and my boyfriend,” Sarah said, her voice breaking slightly. “They’re in Solitude, I think. We thought this was the only safe way through… not that safe, it turned out.”

  The lady stared at them for a while and muttered something to herself under her breath, and neither Sarah nor Mark heard what it was.

  “Well, that's true. This is the only way besides the main road. You’re lucky you didn’t go that way, as the road is covered with those bastards. Saw it with my own eyes. That was when I was with my husband, God rest his s
oul,” she said, shaking the tears from her eyes. It went quiet for a moment as the old woman drifted into her thoughts. She snapped her head back to them. “Your family is probably dead, but you know that already don't you?”

  “Yes, I know, but I have to be sure,” Sarah answered, visibly hurt by the woman’s cruelty.

  “Of course you do,” the lady said in a tone that sounded amused. “My name is Annie. This is my farm.”

  “This is Sarah,” Mark said, glancing to Sarah and then back to Annie, “and I'm Mark. It's nice to meet you, Annie.”

  “Yeah yeah, cut the crap,” Annie said, causing Mark to smirk in surprise. “Now, you're probably gonna want to stay here for the night. If you're smart, that is. I have dried food and water, and my boiler is still working, if you can believe it. Thank God Harold installed that generator when he did. Thought it was gonna be a waste of money, myself.”

  “Anyway, since I’m in a good mood today, I'll cook you somethin’ up. Then once you're fed and watered, you can go on upstairs into the bedroom. As long as you're quiet, we don't want any visitors, do we?” She smiled wickedly then and added, “But if you two try anything funny, I’ll shoot you both in the ass.”

  Sarah laughed and relaxed. “Thank you so much, I'm starving.”

  “So am I,” Mark said, grinning at Annie, “and as thirsty as a plant in Hell!”

  Annie cackled at this and patted Mark on the back heavily. “Sorry for the unpleasant greetin’, kids, I don’t usually get visitors especially at this hour in the night,” she cackled again. “Now I’ll show you to your lodgings, it’s not tidy but I’ve not exactly had much company since the husband died. To be honest, it’ll be nice to have some more faces around here for a while.”

  ~

  It was hard to see what Annie's living room looked like in the dark but there was no furniture at all — just a large sofa and another smaller one to the back. Everything else had been stripped. But besides that, it was spotless; she obviously had been keeping it clean.

  As they followed Annie upstairs, she began telling them about her husband, how she got the farm, and then what happened when the disease hit.

  “For a while we didn't notice anything at all, being so far out of the city it's hard to hear anythin’ even if you wanted to. But then, that was the point of movin’ here — the peace and quiet. Not that it helped when those bastards started wanderin’ into the woods,” she said as they followed her up the stairs, lantern in hand.

  “A woman came by — young, blonde, and her clothes were all covered in blood, she looked like shit. She was limpin’ so Harold went out first, to see if he could help. Not many people walk the way you came and the ones that do are usually lost. When it's a young girl, with an injury like hers, you expect the worst. Rape, mugging, all that jazz.”

  They got to the top of the landing and faced an entrance ahead and three to the right. None had doors. She took them to the one straight ahead, a small bathroom. It had a porcelain toilet with a flowery seat, next to that a small sink and a bath with a shower inside. She stood in the entrance with the lantern held high and turned to face them.

  “You see, I thought it was strange as soon as I saw her. A wound to the neck, especially as deep as hers would be causing her more discomfort than what it did. Blood gushed out of her neck like a fountain. Now me being the suspicious woman that I am, I told him not to go rushin’ out there all half-cocked but as usual, he never listened. It's as if he purposely ignores me.” She let out a small cackle and then her face dropped. “Ignored. Anyway, he went out there like a knight in shiny armour and opened the gate for her. Probably didn't even notice there was anythin’ wrong. But I did.”

  “This is the bathroom, by the way, there's runnin’ water from our own tanks, it’s not Water Company clean but it’ll be a little warm as long as the generator holds up. No tellin' how long that will be, gasoline is nearly all gone. If you can get any more juice out of it, you can clean yourself up. I prefer a cold shower these days anyway.”

  “Thank you,” Sarah said kindly and smiled.

  Annie nodded curtly, smiling a little but as she walked towards the doorway to the right, the smile faded.

  “This was our bedroom. You two can have that, much more room in there and I don't wanna go in. Not anymore.” Annie’s voice broke.

  “I'll be sleeping in the room at the end of the hall. It's smaller but it's just right for me, plus it's close to the front window so I can see anyone entering my land....that's how I saw you two.” She grinned a little. “So wash yourselves up and I’ll cook something for you, it’s just dried rice in tinned soup but when you’re hungry, it’s the best damn thing you’ve ever tasted. Then I'm goin' to rest for a while...”

  As she walked downstairs, Sarah said, “Annie...you said you shot your husband?”

  Annie turned to her and said, “Aye, I had to, he and his new friend tried to bite me.”

  Sarah closed her eyes and winced, as if stung by the words. “I’m so sorry,” she said, thinking of her own situation.

  “He was my whole world you know, just him and the animals. Now they're all gone.” Annie's eyes started to look distant and her face filled with sadness again. “Those fucking things attacked them one night while I was sleepin’. You won’t believe the mess they made of ‘em. Bastards.”

  “If there was another way, something else I coulda done that day, Harold would still be here... I'd still have something to live for,” she said croakily as she went downstairs.

  Finding an oil lantern on the side table, the only piece of furniture left in the room, Mark lit it and looked around. The room was bathed in an orange glow. Shadows danced across the walls. The windows were boarded up in here too and Mark drew the curtains over them just to make sure no light escaped out.

  The room was empty besides the king-sized bed which had a white, old-fashioned frame. The duvet and pillow covers were white with a pink floral decoration in the corners — exactly what you would expect in a country home.

  The walls shone pale pink and the floor was littered with clothes that would have once been in a wardrobe or chest of drawers. Pictures hung on the walls, most of which consisted of Annie smiling next to a greying man; both of them smiling happily. Some contained pictures of a blonde girl with pig tails and a brown haired boy much younger than the girl, playing in the mud. Sarah looked at them and wondered whether they were alive still...and where. She tried to stop her thoughts from wandering back to her parents and Jack.

  “Looks like we're sharing tonight, sunshine. Least it's a proper bed this time and not the floor,” Mark said, a cheerful tone to his voice. “Thank God she didn’t throw us out. Or shoot us.”

  Sarah turned and smiled. “Yeah, and it is a big improvement. I could sleep for another six months,” she laughed quietly. She sat down next to Mark on the bed, rubbing the ankle she'd sprained earlier and winced. “It's been a really crazy few days.”

  Mark nodded and turned to look at her. “I'm glad you slept through the worst of it. I spent weeks wishing I could join you until things get better.”

  Sarah looked at him back, smiling. “I'll never be able to thank you enough for what you've done for me...and Albert too. I'd be dead if it wasn't for you two.” Her eyes welled up with exhausted tears and she wiped them away, leaving a streak of clean skin through the dirt.

  Mark moved closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders, comforting her. “It was my pleasure; I wasn’t going to leave you there.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder, her dark hair flowing over his arm and they sat side-by-side. “You could have, no one would have blamed you.”

  He squeezed her gently. “No, I couldn’t. I knew you were special when I saw you. You seemed so small and innocent, lying there. I knew I had to at least try to help you,” he said, stroking her hair with his hand. “Who knew it would get me into so much trouble!”

  “Well I'm very grateful you did.” Sarah laughed. “Or I'd be dead meat.”


  Mark laughed with her. “Well don't speak too soon, there is still time, we both could be dead meat before you know it.”

  Sarah lifted her head from his embrace and looked up at him — her expression turned serious. “Don’t get me wrong, I love that you’re here with me. I'd just — I’d hate for anything to happen to you because of me.”

  “Sarah, I wanted to come. I wanted to make sure you're safe. You're doing what you have to do...and so am I.”

  They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Warmth spread through Sarah's body, something she hadn't felt for a long time. Mark's bright eyes burned into hers and she didn't think she could look away.