The Undead | Day 25 [The Heat]

by Haywood, RR

  Commotion behind and she cries out in fear as the lions rush in and pounce on the zebra foal. Taking it down in a flurry of dust and screams. An awful thing to see. A most terrible sight that makes Heather try and fling herself off. Thinking to go back and fight. Thinking she must save it.

  Then they hit the lake and she drops hard. Bouncing over the surface with arms and legs spinning before she sinks down. Water fills her mouth, and for a second she loses all notion of where is up, and where is down.

  She flails wildly until her legs hit mud. She pushes up, breaking the surface to gag and spew. Gasping for air as another buffalo goes by, smacking her aside as the edge of the lake fills with creatures trying to flee the lions.

  ‘GET OFF IT,’ she screams out, coughing hard, and trying to wade free. The rifle on the sling now coming forward. Getting in her way. Her tac-vest soaked. Her clothes heavy and clinging. The pistol still in her hand. She fires into the air while trying to get free of the water. While trying to get back to save the foal. Trying to fight through the animals going by. Noise and motion in every direction. A gap ahead. She goes faster. Gasping for air and tripping over a big log. The foal. The lions. She has to reach it. She saw its eyes. She saw the fear. She cannot let it die like that.

  ‘ETHER!’ a huge shout from Paco. A surge of water. A rush of motion as the log she was clambering over comes to life and whips about. The great tail slamming her aside as the crocodile spins and comes at her. It’s mouth opening. It’s belly empty. A month without food for creatures used to regular feeds. Predatory instincts are kicking in. Instincts born from thousands of years, millions for the Crocodile, and it lunges fast, ready to take Heather down for a death roll in the depths.

  Heather tries to veer away then screams out when Paco rushes past and dives onto the Crocodile. The beast reacts instantly. Whipping about in a frenzy as Paco wraps his arms about the head and gets ragged like a doll. The tail hits Heather again, sending her staggering back.

  She rises again. Spewing and gagging while flailing about with the gun as the Crocodile and Paco breach the surface with plumes of water spraying up. The power of the animal so great that Paco is sent flying off. Landing hard and sinking down as Heather aims the gun and fires rounds that hit the water as the croc sinks down.

  Paco pushes up, coughing and heaving for air. Grabbing at Heather as she casts a horror filled glance to the lions and the zebra foal.

  ‘NO!’ she screams, holstering the pistol to pull her rifle to the front. Blowers said rifles can still work when they’re wet. He said that. It has to work. A bellow from behind. An impact from something hitting their legs with enough power to lift them both like they’re made from twigs, sending them up and off. Flying head over arse. Both of them crying out before they plummet down. Hitting the water and mud. Motion in every direction. Things moving too fast with too much noise. The lions roaring and snarling. The stampeding creatures still making sounds. The adult zebras braying. The awful noise from the foal that cuts off as Heather spins to see what threw them. Seeing a wave being pushed ahead from something moving fast through the lake. Displacing the water. A head appears. Grey and smooth. Two small ears. Two protruding eyes. The mouth opening, showing the tusks. The body so impossibly huge for the speed the bull hippo moves at.

  The equilibrium of life within the safari has been disturbed. The creatures were all released but left unfed. They roamed and gathered. They grazed and waited, but time rolls on and so does life, and life will always find its own balance. Its own equilibrium, and now the hippo charges. Not to attack Heather and Paco, but to keep the croc away from its own cubs.

  Paco grabs her arm, wrenching her away. Both of them falling down as they turn and try to run. Both of them knowing everything else here is faster and bigger than they are.

  They hit hard ground and stagger free. Both of them pulling rifles to aim. Both of them ready to fire, for what good it will do. The hippo is enormous, but it’s also hot and has no inclination to leave the water. It slows to a stop with one final bellow, and as that noise abates, so they hear the snarls coming from the lions as they feast on the foal. The crack of bones. The sound of meat tearing.

  ‘Go,’ Paco says, pulling her away. Paco can see one foal won’t feed so many lions. They have to leave. They have to get out.

  A cackle sounds out. An awful, harsh laughing sound that make both twist in fright to see the pack of hyenas charging towards the fresh kill. The smell of meat and blood and fear so strong in the air. They are hungry too. Desperately hungry, and those primeval instincts kick in as they charge on mass to try and intimidate the lions from their kill.

  The air fills with roars. With snarls and noises. With feet pounding the ground. A larger roar. An almighty noise, and a fully gown adult lion with a thick mane charges from the killed foal towards the hyenas. Sending them scattering as they laugh and cackle with alarm.

  Heather and Paco run with everything they have. Coughing from the thick dust in the air with heavy wet clothes slowing them down. A flurry from the side as a hyena runs from the lion into Paco. Snagging his legs and taking him down. The animal cackles again in fear and stress, snapping out with its powerful jaws as Paco scrabbles away. Shots sound out. Heather firing the gun into the air. Trying to scare it away. The hyena bucks and kicks out to get free but another comes in from behind. Snapping at Heather’s backside. She screams out and aims the rifle, but the creatures move too fast to shoot.

  The ground starts sloping up. A gentle incline at first but growing steeper. Hyenas lunging from behind and starting to position to flank.

  ‘BEAR!’ The macaw screeches, making Heather snap her head up then over to see a large hyena running towards her. Intent in its eyes. The teeth showing. She reacts on instinct and fires the rifle. Sending rounds into the animal that slews off with a pained yelp. Guilt floods inside of her. Instant regret at harming an animal, and she cries out as the hyena staggers off and slows. Yelping loudly with blood pouring from its body. The other hyenas all cackling louder.

  ‘Kill it!’ Paco shouts, his voice as ruined as ever but she gets what he means. She has to kill it. She can’t leave it to suffer. She brings the rifle up. Aiming for the head.

  ‘BEAR!’ the macaw says again. Another roar. Deep and terrible and the male lion charges in to grip the injured hyena in its mouth. Ragging it side to side before sinking down with paws the size of plates to start tearing at it.

  ‘GO!’ Paco says, dragging Heather on as the hyenas screech and lunge at the back end of the lion while more of the pride run in. Drawn to the blood and that awful frenzy in the air.

  ‘Fence,’ Heather gasps, seeing the chainlink fence ahead has been busted down. They aim for it with Paco striding on with one hand clamped on Heather’s wrist to keep her going.

  They stagger through, tripping over churned up ground made from wheel marks. Gasping and desperate to stop and breathe. Another fence. Another hole. A four-wheel drive vehicle on the other side. Abandoned for weeks. The sides all busted in. Claws marks in the panels. The windows broken. Another roar. Another alarm sounding as a troop of barbary apes scream out to defend the vehicle they’ve taken refuge in.

  Heather and Paco get clear and run on to see a lusher, greener pasture of land. An old weather-beaten shack stands alone in the middle. Rubber car tyres here and there, but thankfully no animals. No anything in fact. Just a silence that sounds weird after the noises and carnage.

  ‘Shit,’ she says, veering away sharply from the body on the ground. An adult silverback Gorilla lying dead. The body torn open. The rib cage exposed. The flesh bitten away. Flies in the air. A rancid stench too. They go wide then falter again at seeing the lion. A once majestic, powerful creature with a gloriously thick mane. Now dead from a broken back. The bones also exposed from being eaten. Blood stains on the ground. Smaller bones in the grass. They run on, desperate to be away.

  ‘Ether,’ Paco says a few minutes later, pointing at old tyre tracks carved in the mud. They follow the
m towards the perimeter fence until it comes into view; another busted in section. A way out. They take it without hesitation, getting free of the park.

  The edge of a housing estate meets them. The sight of streets and normal urbanity so jarring after what they just saw. Both of them cut and bleeding from scratches and bites. Caked in mud already drying from the heat.

  ‘We’ll find a car,’ Heather says, her voice rough and low. Paco nods, knowing she means to find a car to go around the park to get their own back. They rush through the grass to the road with that same jarring feeling inside at such a sudden transition.

  It feels wrong inside. What they just did. What they just saw. That somehow, they caused it. That their presence affected those changes that caused that stampede that killed the foal.

  But then all things have to eat. Heather eats meat. She eats things that lived. Paco does too. Too many thoughts come at once as she tries to process what she just saw and what they just did.

  A flutter of wings overhead as the macaw sinks down to land on the roof of a car. Heather comes to a stop. Staring at it. Paco the same. Both of them just staring at the bird and seeing the wings aren’t just red but streaked with blues and yellows. It stares back at them. Cocking its head over from one side to the next. ‘Fuck off,’ it says. No aggression. No malice. Just making sounds.

  ‘I need water,’ Heather says, setting off for the end of the street ahead and the rows of houses stretching off. Debris scattered about. Clothes strewn across the ground. Cars smashed up and fences battered down. The same as everywhere else. The same signs of ruin and carnage. Doors busted. Windows busted. Everything busted and dying, or dead, or suffering. This heat. It’s too hot. She needs water. She needs to cool down. That poor foal. The look in its eyes. The sound of the screams.

  ‘Bear,’ the macaw says, bringing both to a dead stop. The tension rising again.

  ‘Don’t fuck about,’ Heather says without turning to look at it.

  ‘Bear!’ the macaw screeches, bursting up into the air as they both turn fast with rifles up. Looking for whatever threat is coming. Seeing nothing. ‘BEAR!’

  ‘Where?’ Heather shouts, as though expecting a response. As though expecting it to converse and explain. ‘There’s nothing here,’ she says again, quieter this time. Looking about. ‘You see anything?’

  ‘No,’ Paco says. Staring this way and that. The old Paco would have died of fright in the safari park, and if he had got free, he would have collapsed and wept in self-pity. This Paco still feels the horror of it, perhaps more than he would have a few days ago. Either way, there’s no obvious threat here. Just the bird making sounds.

  ‘Come on,’ Heather says. The rifle held ready. ‘Blowers said they still work if they get wet,’ she whispers across to Paco. ‘But he said they need to be dried and cleaned quickly. He said saltwater is worst. That was fresh water wasn’t it.’

  ‘Es.’

  ‘The pistols too. He said they’re the same…’

  ‘Ether.’

  ‘What?’ she stops to see him nodding over to a human body at the side of the road. An adult male, or rather, the remains of one. The limbs torn to shreds. Bones poking through. One of the arms gone. ‘Looks recent,’ she remarks.

  Paco nods and kneels down to peer at the remains before slowly turning the skull so they can see the face. The eyes still open. Staring lifelessly. Not red. Not bloodshot.

  Heather swallows at what it means. The dead person wasn’t an infected. But if someone gets bitten, they always turn. Unless they’re immune. ‘Must be an immune,’ she says.

  ‘No,’ Paco says, pointing to the ruined flesh. ‘Not them.’

  ‘Not them?’ she murmurs before the realisation hits; that the man wasn’t killed by infected hosts, but by something else. ‘Oh shit.’

  ‘Bear!’ the macaw cries out, circling overhead as Heather turns a full circle with the rifle up and braced. Paco the same. Still nothing. No sounds. No movements.

  ‘Go,’ Paco whispers, moving deeper into the street because the only alternative is to go back to the safari park.

  They walk on. Senses straining. Expecting an attack any second, but nothing happens. Just the sun glares down. Making heat shimmers that hang over the road. Drying their clothes too fast so they become stiff and matted. The fluids lost in the frenzy need to be replaced. Plus, stupidly, they had sex in the car park just before too. And neither of them thought to bring water.

  ‘Complacency kills,’ she whispers, remembering the things Blowers and Clarence taught her. To always be watchful. To always be prepared.

  Another body ahead. A large dog, but the flesh is too ruined to see the breed. Just grey fur matted with blood. But it means that the killer is big enough to take a fully-grown man down, and aggressive enough to kill a big dog.

  They start picking speed up. Treading faster. Working along the street towards the junction at the end. Reaching it without incident. A four-way split. Signs of carnage in all directions. They stay ahead, aiming away from the safari park.

  ‘BEAR!’ the macaw calls out, bringing them to a stop, but still, there’s nothing to see or hear.

  ‘Maybe it’s just saying the word,’ Heather whispers as they hear a soft crashing noise coming from somewhere. Something being knocked over. Ceramic breaking on concrete. Distinctive and clear. ‘That’s a plant pot,’ Heather whispers.

  Paco stays silent, and the tension ramps as they realise they’re being stalked.

  They go deeper into the next street, staying in the middle of the road. Blinking often to rid the sweat from their eyes. Aiming at houses. At windows and doors. Another body in the middle of the road. The remains of one anyway. Half a torso and a leg. Blood stains everywhere.

  ‘Look,’ she says, spotting more remains a bit further up. Another dog, or maybe more of the other one they saw. Some of the back end with part of the tail. An awful sight. Bloodied and fresh too.

  ‘Ether,’ Paco whispers, motioning ahead to the end of the street that feeds into a park used for dog walking and picnics. A play area for children and huge oak trees giving shade from the heat.

  They look for another way around, but that means either going through one of the buildings or going back the way they came. Neither of those options are good. ‘Come on,’ Heather whispers, making her way along the path into the park area. Passing the swings and slide. Delving into the outer edges of the shade given from the oak tree branches. Something in the grass, and it takes a moment for them to realise its more remains. Bones and limbs. Torsos and heads. Humans faces. Canine skulls.

  ‘What the fuck,’ she mouths, seeing more as they get closer to the trees. Men and women. Old and young amongst the grey matted fur. Bits of bodies eaten and feasted upon. The grass stained with blood. White bones stark in the dried-out grass. A head facing them. A young woman. Pretty save for half of her face eaten away. The one remaining eye clear and blue. Not red. Not bloodshot.

  She turns to Paco as he gently kicks a head attached to a spinal column. Turning it to show the red eyes of an infected man. Whatever is killing them doesn’t care if it’s a person, an infected, or a dog.

  ‘BEAR!’ the macaw cries out as the sound of another plant pot being knocked over reaches them. Coming from the left side of the street they just left.

  They back away, heading deeper into the park. A soft thud. The creak of a fence. The noise of hinges as a gate is pushed open. All of those sounds coming closer.

  ‘BEAR!’

  ‘Shut up!’ Heather whispers, feeling the tension ramp. An urge to run. An urge to turn and sprint. Adrenaline dumping in her body. Priming her for flight or fight.

  A rustle in the thick bushes between them and the nearest garden. Something low and edging forward. Motion within the shadows. She thinks to fire at it but holds off and keeps backing away through the remains of the kills.

  A head emerges. A long nose. Eyes. Ears. A broad head coming slowly into view. Parting the bushes. Another motion a few feet over. Anot
her one pushing through. Another one next to it. Each one dark grey. Each one with shining eyes glinting yellow in the sunshine.

  ‘Wolves,’ Heather whispers. ‘It’s a fucking wolf pack.’

  The first one creeps out, the head and body low down. The ears pricked. The eyes fixed on Heather and Paco. The second comes. The third after it. Each of them edging closer, placing one foot after the other. Sniffing the air. Staring without blinking.

  ‘Just keep backing away,’ Heather whispers. ‘We’re in their den. Maybe if we just go,’ she scuffs the skull of a woman as she says it, wincing both at the sound and the image of her own skull soon to be forming part of this macabre display. They back away, placing one foot after the other as the three wolves advance into the park.

  A great silence between them. The heat bearing down. Hearts thudding. Fingers on triggers.

  ‘BEAR!’ the macaw cries out.

  ‘Shut up!’ Heather whispers, thinking the sound of the voice could spark the wolves to charge, but the bird comes in low. Flying just inches over their heads.

  ‘BEARBEARBEAR!’ It swoops at Paco’s head, making him flick a hand up to push it away as the first growls sound out from the wolves. Deep and low and growing louder and closer as the wolves slowly advance.

  ‘DON’T!’ Heather shouts out. ‘JUST GO… PLEASE!’

  The wolves pay no heed but keep coming. Lips pulling back showing huge teeth. Broad shoulders and long flanks. Bigger than dogs. Bigger than Meredith, and Heather has seen what she can do. Plus, there’s three of them working together and they’ve already killed people. A flurry of thoughts rush through her head as the macaw clumps the back of her head while crying out.

  ‘BEAR!’

  ‘WE KNOW!’ she risks a glance at it, half turning her head and the realisation dawns with a gut-wrenching jolt of horror as she realises the wolves aren’t looking at her or Paco, but at what’s behind them.