Dead Days (Book 3): Cassie

by Hartill, Tom

  PART 3; CASSIE

  I hurt.

  Head swimming, ears ringing….

  I see blood.

  Mine?

  Mikes?

  I feel a tugging, someone pulling me.

  One of them!

  No! No! No!

  Got to fight,

  hit,

  kick,

  whatever.

  I swing my hand, hit someone, a face.

  There’s a voice.

  “Hey, stop, calm down, you’re ok, you’re ok…”

  Arms wrap me up, I can’t move, I stop struggling. It’s a person, a man.

  Not one of the monsters.

  I’m dazed, disoriented and there’s a pain in my side.

  “Wuh happn?...” My voice is thick, it’s hard to focus.

  “You were in a crash, your van flipped.” The man’s voice is deep and calm.

  I remember.

  “Mike?!”

  Is he alive? Did the crash kill him? He may be a dick but I didn’t want him to die!

  “The guy you were with? He’s coming around, my friend’s got him. Can you stand?”

  “I- I’m not sure.”

  He helps me upright. There’s another burst of pain from my side. I don’t fall over but my legs are shaky and I fall against him.

  For the first time I look up at his face.

  His eyes are blue, his hair black. It’s a handsome face, and a kind one. His companion has pulled Mike from the van and is kneeling over him, trying to wake him up. I see Mike begin to stir.

  “Where’s the truck that hit us?” I ask.

  “It took off, It was pretty beaten up but the driver didn’t even slow down. Are you ok?”

  “I don’t know…my ribs…”

  “Let me see.” The man says. I lift up my shirt a little as carefully as I can manage. The ribs on the left side are an alarming shade of purple. He looks at them for a minute, frowning.

  “Can you breathe ok?”

  I nod.

  “That’s good, you may have cracked a few but if you can breathe you might not have broken them. Have some of this.” He hands me a bottle of water and I sip it gratefully.

  “My name’s Damien, you?”

  “Cassie.”

  “That’s pretty.” He smiles at me. “Listen, Cassie, we should probably get moving soon, it’s not safe in the open like this.”

  I remember the homeless guy that nearly clawed my face off. “Yeah, no kidding.”

  I look over to see Damien’s friend helping Mike over to us.

  Mike looks awful.

  His skin is a worrying shade of grey and there’s a gash across his forehead. Drying blood has gummed his left eye shut.

  “Oh fuck me….” He moans.

  Well, at least he sounds like himself.

  He catches sight of me. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine, you?”

  “I’d be a lot better if we caught the silly twat that ran us off the road.”

  “Careful there chap, you could have a concussion.” Damien’s friend says. “Hi, I’m Larry.” He holds out a hand which I shake. His grip is limp and a little clammy, but he seems harmless enough. He’s middle-aged, balding with a big sloping gut. He’s tall, six and half feet at least by my guess.

  “I was just saying we should probably get out of here.” Damien says.

  “Well yeah, no shit.” Mike sneers.

  God, he is such a dick.

  “Between the car crash and the fuckers trying to eat us I think it’s fair to say we shouldn’t stick around.” He taps his pockets, confused. “Have you got my phone?”

  It sounds so much like an accusation that I just glare at him.

  He huffs and walks back to the upturned van.

  “Nice guy huh?” Damien says.

  “He’s my housemate’s boyfriend. I can’t stand him. He came to our flat looking for her but she’s at work, we were on our way to get her.”

  Larry and Damien exchange a worried glance.

  “What is it?”

  “Does she work in town?” Damien asks.

  I feel my stomach drop. “Yeah why?”

  Larry puts a hand on my shoulder. “The city, it’s….it’s chaos. Central London’s overrun by those things.”

  I shake my head, I still feel woozy.

  “What do you mean, ‘gone’?”

  Damien sits me on the kerb and squats down in front of me. “I’m really sorry Cassie but I think it’s pretty unlikely that your friend’s still alive.”

  “You can’t know that-” I start to shout.

  He holds up a hand, cutting me off. “Look, you don’t know me and you don’t have to believe a word I have to say, I can’t tell you not to go and find her. But if you go much further into the city, I really don’t think you’ll live through the day.” He looks towards Mike who is on his hands and knees rummaging for his phone. “Especially not in the shape you two are in.”

  I want to argue but it’s hard not to see his point. I feel sick and like I want to cry. Everything’s gone to shit so quickly and I just want to go home. I think about Tess getting caught by one of those monsters and I feel my eyes brim with tears. I wipe my sleeve over them and shake my head.

  “Ok, so where do you suggest we go?” I say. My voice is steadier than I feel.

  “Well there’s a-”

  “FUCK!!”

  I jump at the sound of Mike’s voice. He is kicking the side of the van.

  He’s found his phone.

  From here I can see that the screen is smashed.

  Damien walks over to him quickly.

  “Listen mate, right now making that much noise isn’t a great idea. We might draw out more than those things-”

  “Oh fuck off boy scout!” Mike hurls the phone at the ground.

  “Calm down-”

  Mike grabs Damien by the shirt and slams him into the van.

  “She’s alive! Don’t you get it, she’s alive out there somewhere I have to find her!”

  “MIKE!”

  He looks at me, still holding Damien.

  “She text me Cass! She’s alive! Don’t you want to find her? What the fuck’s the matter with you?!”

  I see red. His words make me fucking furious.

  “What’s the matter with me?! You’re the one assaulting people and yelling like some fucking psycho!”

  He seems to see what he’s doing and let’s go of Damien.

  “Sorry…I….Sorry.” He steps away.

  “It’s fine.” Damien says coldly. “Look we need to go.”

  “Where?” I ask.

  Larry steps forward. “We heard that the army was setting up a safe zone around Alexandra Palace. We aren’t too far from there, only a couple of miles.”

  I try to think.

  We are on foot, those things are out here and if I’ve understood it right, there’s going to be a lot more of them pretty soon. There’s no way of getting to Tess, not right now anyway, so if she’s still alive, she might have found a way out on her own. That’s logical.

  S why does saying it still make me feel like a cowardly bitch?.

  “So if we go to this ‘Safe Zone’ do you think they’ll be able to help us get our friend?”

  Damien looks to Larry, who shrugs. “Maybe, I mean, I doubt the army use civilian networks to communicate, maybe they have like a… a satellite phone or something? They may let you call your friend with that?”

  I turn to Mike who is sitting against the van with his head in his hands.

  I can’t help but feel a little bit sorry for him.

  “Mike, you hear that? If we get to Alexandra Palace we can contact Tess.”

  As he looks up, I see that his eyes are re
d. “Did she text you?”

  I go to check my pocket and realise I left my phone in my bedroom. Fuck.

  “I left my phone back at the flat-”

  Mike tilts his head back and laughs. “Oh well that’s just fucking perfect!”

  “I’m sorry alright, it’s an easy enough thing to do.” I look at Larry and Damien. “Have either of you got a phone?”

  “I do.” Damien says, handing it to me.

  “Mike what’s the number?” I ask.

  “How the fuck should I know? Who actually remembers mobile numbers anymore?”

  I go to say something cutting, he’s really pissing me off, but he has a point. I don’t know Tess’s number off-by-heart either.

  “I doubt it has any signal anyway, it hasn’t all morning.” Damien smiles at me, awkwardly.

  “Thanks anyway.” I reply. “So which way?”

  Larry points down the street. “We keep heading down here for now.”

  Mike stands up, his head low. He has a look on his face that’s almost petulant, like a child about to throw a tantrum.

  It’s infuriating.

  “You guys got any weapons?” He says.

  Damien stares at him for a moment. I can see him trying to keep his temper. Mike’s aggravating him. He walks around to the other side of the van, where he pulled me out, and comes back holding a steel pry-bar.

  “Just this.” He looks at me. “Its how I got you out.”

  I noticed the end of it is stained dark red.

  I swallow. “Have you killed any of those things?”

  He nods, but can’t meet my eyes.

  “Not fun is it?” Mike says. There’s a smirk on his face that makes me want to slap him.

  “No. It’s not.” Damien says deliberately.

  I think Mike sees something in Damien’s expression because he seems to back down.

  Good, the last thing we need right now is some dick measuring contest.

  “Let’s just get the fuck out of here ok?” I say.

  “I second that.” Larry says emphatically.

  “This way then.” Damien says and sets off.

  We walk in silence for ten minutes or so, waiting for one of those things to appear. We see a couple of cars go by. I see the expression of the man behind the wheel of one of them. He looks straight through us, weaving over the road.

  I think there’s blood on his face.

  I shudder.

  I want to break the tension so I try to talk to Damien.

  “So how do you two know each other?”

  “Me and Larry? We met for the first time today.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m a mechanic. Larry came in for a service.” He swallows.

  “What happened?”

  “My boss, Chuck, he came in this morning looking like shit, went straight into the office.” He rubs his eyes and I feel a wave of pity for him as I realise he is struggling not to cry.

  “I’m sorry-” I begin.

  Damien carries on as if he didn’t hear. “He must have turned into one of those things whilst he was in there.”

  “You…You killed him?”

  He looks at me for a moment. Probably wants to know if I’m judging him.

  I’m not.

  “He came back out when he heard me talking to Larry. That’s why I was worried about noise back there. I think it attracts them.”

  “I guess I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “After I….. After Chuck was-” he clears his throat, “we listened to the radio, heard about the broadcast for the safe zone. Chuck and I walk to work and I figured it’d take at least a day and a half to fix Larry’s car, so we set off on foot.”

  “Have you seen anymore of those things?”

  He nods. “One or two, but always from a distance, and we avoided them. We passed a bookshop with blood on the window, whatever it was must’ve been inside the shop. Maybe we should have gone in to see if we could help but….”

  I put a hand on his shoulder.

  “That would have been stupid. You didn’t know what was in there or how many, they could’ve killed you.”

  He nods. “Yeah I guess. Thanks.” He smiles at me. “Just feels wrong to walk on by, you know?”

  He really is quite attractive.

  Oh for God’s sake, this so not the time.

  “Guys? Guys look.” Larry points up ahead.

  There is a man lying in the road.

  Oh no.

  “Okay, everyone just stay behind me and walk as quietly as you can.” Damien says, hefting the pry-bar.

  “Who put you in charge?” Mike says sulkily.

  Damien considers for a moment and holds out the pry-bar. “After you then?”

  Mike hesitates.

  “Well? You want to be in charge big man, here you go.” Damien and Mike stare at each other for a minute before Mike looks away.

  I swear Mike utters the word ‘prick’ under his breath but Damien either doesn’t hear him or pretends not to.

  “Ok then….” I see him take a breath.

  “Be careful.” I whisper.

  “Always.” He winks at me.

  He makes his way slowly to the guy lying in the road. My heart’s pounding, I can feel that pain in my side getting worse.

  If we have to run I could be in very bad trouble.

  Damien is only a couple of metres from the man now.

  Larry draws level with me and squeezes my shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing.”

  I look at Larry. Up close he is very pale, and he gives off an unpleasant odour of sweat, masked by a cheap, heavy cologne.

  I feel for him a little though, he doesn’t look like the kind of guy who’s really built for this.

  Damien has drawn up alongside the prone figure in the road and carefully prods him with his foot before jumping back, raising the bar to strike.

  The man doesn’t move.

  Damien lowers his weapon and walks back over to us.

  “It’s ok, he’s not one of….. them, but I think they killed him. His throats been…well, I didn’t need to check his pulse to know he’s dead.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Mike points back over Damien’s shoulder. He looks sick.

  My heart lurches in my chest.

  The man in the road is sitting up.

  His back is to us, but his head turns left and right, as if he is sniffing the air. I feel my body tense. I can feel my heartbeat in my temples and my bladder suddenly feels full.

  I don’t want it to turn around. I don’t want to see its face.

  It pulls itself upright. It moves jerkily, like a puppet with its strings cut. Its head lolls to the side on a neck that is no longer whole.

  A good portion of it has been torn away.

  Larry whimpers.

  It hears him.

  As it turns, I hear Damien hiss through his teeth, and Mike retches.

  The tramp was bad but this- this is so much worse. At least the tramp still looked like a little like a person. This thing though, this shambling fucking….horror, is like a nightmare. I can see inside its throat, through sinew and tendon, connective tissue, even its half-exposed windpipe. A wave of unreality washes over me and my legs go from underneath me.

  I feel a jolt as I sit down hard on the road, and a fresh lance of pain bolts through my ribs. I feel Larry kneel clumsily beside me trying to support me, but all my attention is fixed on the monster shuffling towards us.

  Damien is striding towards it, bar raised, when Mike lets out a cry. From the side-street, three figures come in to view, all of them moving in that same lurching shuffle, all making that awful rasping, moaning sound.

  My stomach rolls when I see one of them is a child.

  I hear a solid thump as Damien swings the pry-bar at the one without a throat. It staggers to the side. He hits it again and its head takes on an awful dented look. It comes at him for a third time, the remains of its jaw working convulsively before h
e brings the bar down for the last time, smashing its head to pieces. Blood and brains fly across the road in a gory trail that causes Larry to vomit noisily on the ground beside me.

  For a minute I think I might be able to keep it together but as the smell of still-warm puke hits my nostrils I add my own stylings to the up-chuck chorus.