by R J Murray
The Journey Home
By R. J. Murray
Copyright 2016 R. J. Murray
All Rights Reserved Worldwide.
No part of this book may be reproduced, uploaded to the internet, or copied without permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Some may be used for parody purposes. Any resemblance to events, locales, business establishments, or actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Clive looked down at the frozen chunks of flesh and fought back the urge to vomit. He glanced over at Jacob, hoping the older man would give him some indication of whether or not they were in any danger.
He swallowed back his questions and tightened his grip on the hunting rifle he carried. It was little comfort as he knew that he was no marksman and was distinctly squeamish about shooting the infected.
Jacob, for his part, ignored the other man. He concentrated on the bones sticking up out of the crimson splashed snow. There were teeth marks on those bones and in the little flesh that remained on them. The surrounding snow had been churned up by at least a handful of people and he worried that there were more.
“This is bad,” he said softly.
His breath misted the air in front of his face and he squinted as he looked up at the sun hanging low in the sky. He rubbed his hands on his jeans in an unconscious gesture, as though wiping away any chance of infection that he might have picked up from the remains.
“Course it’s bad.” Clive gave a nervous look around the clearing, eyeing the surrounding firs suspiciously. “You think they’re still nearby?”
“Not sure.” The tracks led off to the north and the cabin they had holed up in was a little to the south-west, so he was reasonably confident they didn’t know they were there. “We should be cautious anyway.”
“Who was it you think?”
“No clothes, so I’m guessing one of them,” Jacob said with a dismissive glance to the remains. “Probably done in by the cold and the others decided not to waste a meal.”
He let out a soft grunt as he rose to his feet, brushing the damp snow from his jeans. He lifted the rifle from where it hung on his back and held it before him in both hands. He would be ready should any of the infected come his way, that was for sure.
It had been barely two weeks since they’d stopped at the cabin set back deep into the woods. Jacob was fairly sure that it had been a hunting cabin and, as such, not on the beaten track. With the mountains surrounding them, the heavy snow and lack of neighbours, he’d hoped for a great deal more time before the infected found them.
“We should head back,” Clive said, a hint of fear in the trembling of his voice.
Jacob’s eyes flicked towards the younger man and he stilled his face, hiding his low opinion as best he could. As a one-time soldier in his youth, he’d become fast acquainted with what could happen when you were in close quarters with a bunch of people you didn’t know for an extended period.
The smallest faults became bigger, every minor irritation that would normally be ignored began to grate on your nerves and it wasn’t long before arguments started. He was fairly certain that his current mood had little to actually do with Clive, but more to do with the fact that they’d been sharing a too small cabin for a couple of weeks.
“Not yet,” he said. The urge to stay outside in the open air, despite the danger, was too strong to let him even think of returning to the dark, cramped little cabin. “We’ll head a bit further out.”
Clive bit back his objection and scratched at the thick black beard that covered the lower part of his face. It had begun to itch just a couple of days ago and he knew it needed trimming badly, but scissors or clippers were as lacking as everything else they needed.
He kept his rifle to hand as he followed the older man. Feet sinking deep into the snow with each step he took. His jeans were damp and clung to his legs as his thoughts drifted to the cabin and the fire that would be burning in the hearth.
A bird call made him jump and he scanned the surrounding trees nervously, before glancing over to Jacob, hoping he hadn’t noticed. If he had, he didn’t say anything and just kept walking.
Of the five survivors from the lodge, Jacob was the oldest and from the stories he’d told of his life as they gathered near the fire at the end of each day, Clive had learnt enough about the man to begin to respect him.
“Stop,” Jacob said, crouching low and pushing aside the thick branches of a fir.
There in the distance, further down the steep incline were two people, pushing hard through the snow. They kept glancing back over their shoulders as they moved and even at the several hundred metres distance. Clive could tell they were scared.
“We should help…”
“Quiet!” he hissed, raising his rifle to his shoulder and staring through the attached scope.
Clive did the same, focusing first on the two figures. A man and a woman both wearing brightly coloured ski jackets and woolly hats. They had heavy boots that ended just below their knees and each carried a backpack. He watched them for several seconds before tracking back to the left, following their panicked looks.
“Damnit.”
He lowered the rifle, licking dry, cracked lips and turning away. He had no desire to see them dragged under by the pack of frenzied infected that were closing the distance between them.
It wasn’t long before a scream cut through the still mountain air and the angry cries of a man watching his partner die. Torn apart by the eager hands of the infected men and women. They would, if the couple were lucky, simply kill them and devour their flesh. If they were lucky.
“God damn them,” Jacob said softly as he let the branches fall back into place.
The older man swallowed hard and avoided meeting Clive’s eyes as the pained screams rose into the air. When someone was infected with whatever the hell it was, they got sick. The infection had their body run hot, burning away their higher functions. All that was left was anger and primal need. That urge to feed, to fight, to fuck. Sometimes, you were lucky and their hunger outweighed the other. Sometimes.
Jacob pulled aside the branches once more and lifted the rifle to his shoulder. He focused on the man and woman, almost lost beneath the naked infected as they tore at their clothes. They had pulled the man's trousers off and an infected woman was ripping flesh from his hand with her teeth as one of the infected men thrust against him.
He tightened his finger on the trigger, exhaling softly as he squeezed it tight. The rifle bucked against his shoulder, and he ignored it as he pulled back on the bolt lever, ejecting the spent cartridge and slipping another into the breach.
His second shot stilled the cries of the woman, the sound echoing around the mountain for a moment before fading until only the howls of the infected could be heard as they searched for the source of the gunfire.
For a moment, Clive hated himself as his first thought was that they couldn’t spare the bullets from their limited stock. Then he realised just how selfish that was of him and how he would feel had it been Terri and himself down there.
“We need to go,” Jacob said, letting the branches fall back.
“No shit!” Clive muttered.
They hurried away as the howls rose in volume.
Chapter 2
Terri pressed her fingers gently against Alan’s skin, just above the ankle where the swelling and discolouration was worst. Even with just the lightest of touches he winced and sucked in a deep breath. The heat rising from that area was immediately felt and she held back a sigh as she glanced up and met his eyes.
&
nbsp; “That bad, huh?” he asked.
He grimaced as he scratched at the patchy hair on his cheek and tossed his head to clear the copper coloured hair from his eyes.
“I’m sure it’s just part of the healing process,” she lied.
She reached over and grasped the blankets, taking a moment to pull them over him, careful of the weight of them against his injured leg. She’d have preferred not to have anything covering it, but with little heat in the cabin’s bedroom, he needed the blankets.
“Whose turn is it in here tonight?” Alan asked.
“Mandy and Elise.”
“Well, that’s something at least.”
“What do you mean?” She settled on the edge of the bed and glanced over at the half-closed door to make sure no one was listening.
“Mandy and Jacob,” he said with a sour twist to his lips. “They must have thought I was asleep. At least I hope they did.”
“Oh dear.” She couldn’t stop the giggle as she took another look at the doorway. “When did that start?”
“About three in the morning.”
“No,” she chided softly. “When did they hook up?”
“I have no idea. They seemed… familiar with each other. So probably a little while ago.”
Terri grinned at that. There was little to keep them occupied and with only one big double bed in the cabin, they had been taking turns on sleeping in it. Alan was in there all the time due to his injury and they could just about fit two more people into the bed.
Considering the lack of heating, the extra bodies helped keep them warm and the bed, even crowded, was a great deal more comfortable than the couch or floor. Though admittedly, the living room had hard floors but the benefit of the open fireplace.
She was surprised it had taken so long for them to be caught doing it. She and Clive had managed it a couple of times and were so bored they would have been having a lot more sex just to pass the time if there had been anywhere private to do it.
If Jacob and Mandy had finally gotten together that left Alan, who was strictly into men and Elise without a partner. Not that Elise seemed bothered. She spent most of her time fiddling with the CB radio in the back room or staring blankly into space, wondering at the fate of her dad.
Her smile faded a little at the thought of Alan and she patted his hand gently as she said, “I’ll bring you some food in a bit.”
She left him there with an added instruction to get some rest and closed the bedroom door behind her as she returned to the living room. Mandy lounged on the couch, flipping through some old magazines that must have been brought up by a guest who had stayed there. Terri had read them a week and a half ago.
“Shift your feet,” she said as she crossed to the couch.
Mandy complied silently, twisting her body and curling her legs up towards her so that there was room for the other woman to seat herself but didn’t require Mandy to actually sit up.
Terri sat for a minute, staring into the fire and drumming her fingers on the edge of the upholstered couch. It was hard and uncomfortable, the fabric covering threadbare with stains that just weren’t coming out without a deep clean, but it was better than the bare wooden floorboards.
“His ankle’s getting worse,” she said into the silence.
Mandy looked up from her magazine, a frown forming on her face as her well-plucked brows drew down in confusion.
“Oh.”
Her eyes widened slightly as she realized what Terri meant and she flickered her eyes towards the bedroom for just a moment before turning back to the other woman. Her shoulders lifted in a shrug and she went back to reading the magazine.
“That’s all you can say? Fucking, oh!”
“What would you like me to say, cherié?
“Something bloody useful!”
“We are not doctors, this is not a hospital. What should we do?” Her red painted lips turned up at the corners as she raised one eyebrow quizzically. “You want, that we should operate ourselves?”
“No. that’s ridiculous.”
“Oui. But then so is your anger.”
She had her there and Terri knew it. There was nothing that they could do. He couldn’t walk and there was no guarantee that even if they could find some way to carry him that they wouldn’t do more damage to him. It didn’t make her feel better to know that though.
There was little point in arguing that point and she was woman enough to know that her anger wasn’t justified. It wasn’t Mandy’s fault and the woman’s callous reaction was just part of who she was.
Over the past couple of weeks, she’d become a lot more familiar with the other survivors. There were all people who she wouldn’t have really had as friends before the end of the world, but they weren’t really bad people.
Mandy was self-absorbed and interested more in her own needs than anyone else’s. Alan was quiet and withdrawn much of the time as he mourned the loss of his partner. Jacob had a burning need to keep occupied as though sitting still for five minutes was painful for him and Elise avoided everyone else whenever she could.
Terri was just glad that she had Clive. He was the one link to her old life that she could cling to and the one constant in her world.
“I’ll start dinner,” she said with a look at her watch to check the time. “The guys should be back soon.”
“Non!”
Mandy let the magazine drop to the floor. She swung her feet off of the couch and rose, stretching languidly.
“I have tasted your food and you prove the stereotype about British cooking to be true,” she said with a slight smile that took the edge off her words. Almost. “I shall cook.”
“Fine. I’ll get some more wood for the fire or is that something I can’t be trusted with too?”
“Non, the wood is fine.”
Terri shook her head slightly as she rose from the couch. Too long in the small cabin with far too little to do and her nerves were frayed. She lifted her coat from the hood beside the door and pulled it on before fastening it securely.
She pushed open the heavy door with a slight grunt and stepped out onto the porch. It wasn’t much of one, just a few thick boards with a roof above to keep the snow from blocking the door. She inhaled deeply, sucking in as much of the frigid mountain air as her lungs would allow and shoved her hands deep into her pockets.
It only took a moment for her skin to feel the cold bite of the air and the tip of her nose to begin to numb. Not for the first time she regretted the Christmas Vacation to the French Alps rather than a Spanish beach. At least it would have been warmer there and they wouldn’t have been so cut off from people, she reasoned.
Though, admittedly, there was a much greater chance that they would have been killed when it first kicked off. One benefit of being up in the mountains was that there were comparatively fewer people around to be infected and since they ran around bare ass naked, they didn’t last that long.
Not that the cold seemed to bother them, or any sort of injury. As long as their hearts were beating they would continue on in their mindless desire. Pain seemed to be something they lost along with their ability to reason or make choices.
She scanned the edge of the forest to ensure there was no immediate danger before setting off around the side of the cabin.
The only way to reach it was a walking trail that led through the woods, well hidden from casual sight. There was a wider porch at the back that ended at the edge of a low cliff with a twenty-odd foot drop down to the forest floor.
Its peaked roof had wooden tiles and several of them were warped, while moss covered much of the roof. They had blocked the gaps from the inside as best they could to keep the cold at bay but they didn’t have much to work with so it wasn’t great.
Around the side was a sizeable stack of wood and an axe was embedded into the wide base of an old tree trunk close by. Whoever used the cabin had been prepared for the winter, which made her wonder where they were.
There was little food inside when
they arrived, so they had been eating the supplies they’d brought with them from the hunting lodge and they weren’t lasting anywhere near as long as she’d originally thought.
Which was why Clive and Jacob had gone out. Despite her objections stemming from a very real fear of the danger they would be in, she knew they needed to find some more food or they would be forced to leave whether Alan was ready or not.
Considering the state of his ankle, she wasn’t sure that they could afford to wait it out anyway. She wasn’t any sort of medical expert, but she knew enough to know the signs of infection and since there was no clear wound, she suspected the break had done some damage inside his leg to the surrounding tissue.
Alan’s temperature was up and his breathing laboured on a night. He put on a good face, but she saw the pain he was in and the one thing they hadn’t been able to bring with them was medical supplies other than the very basic first aid stuff Jacob carried with him.
She pulled wood from the pile, face drawn as she worried about Alan. With the worry was the frustration that there was just nothing she could do.
The pile in her arms was growing heavy as she reached for one last chunk of wood. Her tongue stuck out from between her lips as she reached up to the top of the stack. She hooked the piece she wanted with her fingers and pulled.
It dropped from the top of the stack and she swore softly as she hopped back before it could land on her foot. The last thing she needed was a broken toe. She bent down to scoop it up and stopped, mouth opening wide.
The wood dropped to the snow as she dashed back to the cabin, cursing herself for not bringing a rifle out with her.
Chapter 3
Mandy heaved a deeply theatrical sigh at the state of the equipment she had to cook with. It irked her more than a little that no one else was in the room to respond to it. She was a woman who enjoyed the attention of others, no matter the reason.
She sorted through the few remaining tins of food, pulling a face at the poor selection and wondering just what she would be able to make with it that would be palatable to her.
