by West, Mark
The Beast roars with what I can only assume is delight, and walks towards Amy. No one is shooting. I charge in a blinding rage: machete in one hand, fist clenched in the other. I slice my machete through the air and into the Beast’s leg, penetrating the skin to create a small wedge in the calf muscle. It lets out a bellowing roar as it swats at me angrily. I jump to my left, ducking the enormous hand, and take another crack at its leg.
The centre of my blade sinks deep into the tissue below the knee My attack is fuelled with hatred for the creature and I feel the machete hit something hard, most likely bone, and smile something criminal. ‘I hope that hurt!’
It roars again, unexpectedly spinning round quicker this time, and clips my right shoulder with the back of its hand. It feels like I have been hit by a bus. I fly backwards in a spin, dropping my machete as I slide along the loose gravel. Winded, I look up to see it staring back down at me. I search around frantically, trying to locate my weapon before I’m crushed or ripped apart. My shoulder burns and I’m gasping for air when I see it lying just behind me. I begin to shuffle backwards, but it’s difficult with my throbbing shoulder. I manage to drag my butt across the rocky ground as it steps closer to me. It’s mad and I’m now its number one target. I wonder where everyone is.
I hear gunfire behind me. I quickly glance around, unsure if I should take my eyes off the approaching Beast, and see Rohan coming up. He is holding a shotgun and pointing it right at the creature. He fires loosely, round after round, with no concern about anything or anyone around him. Holes appear in the Beast’s chest. They ooze like weeping boils.
‘Get up!’ a voice yells, and I realise I have stopped crawling backwards.
I shuffle back in panic. Noah comes to my side, holding what looks to be a pitchfork. He charges for the Beast, allowing me to shuffle back further. I’m about to yell for him to stop when he is swatted away like a fly, landing metres away. He doesn’t get up. The Beast continues to approach. When it’s less than a metre away I stop, my arms and legs going limp, and collapse on my back. I can’t move. I watch its hand stretch out towards me like a claw machine, fingers snapping open and closed. My heart races and I brace myself for the worst: an agonising death.
Lincoln’s timber bat comes from nowhere, slamming down on the Beast’s arm and pushing it out the way. The bat shatters from the impact, sending hundreds of shards flying in all directions and spraying me in the face. I push myself to my feet, snatching my machete and turn to my attacker. Lincoln is still holding the broken end of the bat, looking slightly confused. I yell for him to watch out. He spots the swinging arm and quickly ducks before turning and running back a few metres.
Rohan walks past, his gun raised, and continues firing on the creature. I yell for him to get back, but he doesn’t listen. I reach for his jacket, brushing up against the material, but he shrugs me away and continues to fire. The bullets are causing damage, large holes now appearing all over the Beast’s body, but it isn’t going down.
Lincoln runs up to me holding a knife.
‘Madness,’ he pants. ‘He’s going to get himself killed.’
Rohan fumbles with something in his pocket. He curses, and I see in his eyes when he turns towards us that he knows he is too close; he has been blinded by rage.
Chapter 34
REGRET
The Beast jumps, landing in front of Rohan. It batters him to the ground and pins him under its foot. Rohan’s expression is of pure pain. The foot is crushing him like a vice so that his eyes bulge and he struggles to breath. His hands scratch at the tree trunk of leg. The Beast slowly lifts its foot and raises Rohan in the air, one hand gripping his legs, the other his arms so he is lying flat like a plank. Rohan begins screaming again, so loudly that his voice starts to crack.
‘Please don’t!’ I scream and stagger forward.
The Beast lets out another roar and begins pulling Rohan’s body in opposite directions. I hear a loud crack as bones and ligaments break. Blood begins falling in a slow drip, as his flesh is torn wide apart right up to the last strands that quiver like a guitar string.
The Beast smiles, its deformed features producing a hideous look of satisfaction as it gives the body one last yank, breaking the connection between legs and torso. Blood gushes out like spilt milk, causing a river of red that pours down and over the Beast’s face as it cocks its head back in celebration.
The Beasts eye explodes and it drops to the ground with a loud thump. I’m amazed at how quickly and easily it falls from just one bullet. One moment it’s alive, the next, nothing. I turn to the truck and see Noah holding a rifle, eye pressed hard against the scope. ‘Thank God,’ I say, relieved.
Lincoln runs over to the Beast, slamming his knife into the back of its skull and booting it in the stomach. ‘Prick!’ he yells, kicking in rage.
No one else goes over and eventually he stops. We are all staring at him. ‘I had to make sure,’ he says. Tears are leaking from his eyes. I nod back in understanding.
Lincoln goes back to the truck with the others and I go over to the body. The sense of fear grows deep within me when I look at my fallen friend. I know that one day this may be me, someone else looking down at my body with that awful feeling of loss I’m all too familiar with. I get down on one knee. I can’t work out why I feel the urge to get down but do it anyway, so that my face is centimetres from the blood-soaked body. Perhaps it’s the feeling that I need to say goodbye and this is my way of doing it. I search for what I believe is the head. ‘You fought well; now it’s time to rest.’
I hear the call from Noah telling me it is time to go. I take one last look at my fallen friend and walk away without looking back.
The truck’s side is crumpled in and most of the tray’s contents are still strewn across the ground. Lincoln and Noah had placed some items back in but have given up. I feel a sense of guilt for not helping, but somewhere deep down I just don’t care anymore.
‘Any sign of the Infected that were coming down the hill?’ I ask, glancing up at the road that’s now empty.
‘No idea,’ answers Lincoln. ‘Lost them the moment that thing snatched Amy.’ His eyes are still red, and I can tell he had started crying again.
‘I imagine they’ll be watching somewhere,’ Noah adds, checking the surroundings.
‘You okay?’ I ask, when I see Tyler resting by the side of a rock.
His body is covered in scrapes and cuts, and there’s a small welt on the side of his head that pulsates.
‘Think I’ll be fine.’ He lowers his head. ‘Sorry about your friend.’
I blurt the first words that come to my mind. I regret saying them, but I know it’s true. ‘You should’ve shot it.’
He peers back up at me with watery eyes. I feel awkward, so I try to give him a forced smile so he’ll ignore my comment. But I feel I produce nothing. I’m still so mad I can’t forgive him. I look away and spot Lincoln holding Amy in a comforting embrace. They are watching us and I sense they feel the tension. Lincoln walks over to break the silence. ‘Truck’s loaded. Let’s get out of here.’ He slaps me on the back. ‘I’ll drive.’
The next day I don’t wake until midday. It’s another beautiful day, but somehow I don’t feel anything for the nice weather anymore. I know it’s because I’m grieving and I tell myself things will get better, but I really can’t be sure. Death is all around me.
Yesterday afternoon seems a blur. We arrived home, Lincoln pulled the truck in and went straight inside, coming back out with a bottle of scotch and two confused girls. We told the girls the horrible news and got drunk. There was nothing to discuss, or say, or even do. Victoria broke down, I remember that much. I remember telling her the events in minute detail and then watching her collapse in a heap by my legs, crying. That’s when I knew we had all hit rock bottom.
She is still asleep. I sneak from the room and walk into the kitchen. Noah is awake making a coffee. He isn’t wearing a shirt and I notice deep purple bruising along his neck and sho
ulders. He turns around and sees I’m looking at his body. ‘Bad, hey,’ he says peering down at a bruise on his stomach. ‘I hit the ground really hard.’
I nod, amazed he is still standing, then I notice his eyes. ‘Shit, mate. Your eyes. Are you okay?’ I take a step closer for a better look. They are all swollen with bright purple rings.
‘I feel like death.’ He rubs the corner of one eye. ‘I drank too much. And I think I may have broken my nose.’ He lifts his coffee and takes a sip.
‘When did you go to bed?’
‘Too late,’ he answers, rolling his eyes. ‘Hannah wasn’t happy. I woke her the second I barged through the door. Oh well …’
I retrieve some cornflakes, fill my bowl then pour some long-life soy milk in. ‘Let’s go outside.’
He follows me out and we take a seat on the step by the door.
‘Do you think we’ll get through this?’ he asks.
I shrug, and take a mouthful of cereal. ‘Not sure, but I know yesterday’s attack was planned somehow. I reckon we stay low for a while; suspend all raids till things die down. What do you think?’
He takes a sip of coffee before speaking. ‘Good idea.’
Tyler approaches the open door and peers outside. I smell the scent of shampoo. ‘What’s a good idea?’
‘Suspend all raids for a while,’ I answer.
It’s the first words I can remember saying to him since we got in the truck after the attack. I feel bad for the way I acted and know I needed to apologise, but I’m still mad at him for missing the shot.
‘Agree on that one. Yesterday was a close call.’ He looks at me. I still see the shame in his eyes. ‘I should’ve shot him. I had a clear shot and messed it up multiple times.’
I’m about to say something but Noah speaks first. ‘It’s all good, mate.’ He stands, slapping me on the back and heading inside with Tyler.
I sit outside for a little longer. Hannah steps out and sits beside me. Her long, blonde hair is tied up in a bun and she is wearing a white singlet with a pair of denim shorts that ride high across her skinny thighs. She’s a little younger than me and began dating Noah just a month before the outbreak. Over the past few months I haven’t honestly had much time to sit down and talk to her. We have all been so busy and she always opted to stay behind and watch the house whenever we went out on a raid.
‘So, what’s the deal Jackson?’ she asks bluntly. ‘Do you think we’ll survive?’ She swats at a fly with aggravation. I can tell she is all tense. Perhaps from a bad sleep, or a thumping hangover like the rest of us.
I shrug and peer out towards the fence. ‘I hope so.’
I feel a hand rest upon my knee, and I look at her. She is now smiling, her blue eyes trained on mine. ‘You will protect us, won’t you?’
The hand is making me feel uncomfortable. I quickly glance around to make sure no one is watching us. I can see Amy inside on the couch reading a book and I can’t spot the others anywhere. But mainly I’m searching for Victoria. I relax when I see she must still be in bed. If she came out now there is no way of telling what she would think.
I politely remove Hannah’s hand and place it back on her lap, before anyone spots us. ‘We’re all here for each other, Hannah. We are all protecting each other in a way.’
I feel her hand grab at mine; it feels soft. I go to pull away and her grip tightens. I want my hand back, but she won’t let go. ‘And me?’ She tries to pull me in a little closer, but I resist. ‘Will you protect me Jackson?’
There is a bark from Koda inside and it breaks the tension. For a moment I feel her hand loosen in fright and I quickly pull my hand away. ‘Of course.’ I say with a sheepish smile. I can tell she is slightly hurt from the way I just acted.
‘Well …’ She stands and then leans in close to whisper in my ear. I can feel her chest press against my arm. ‘As long as you’re thinking of me, Jackson, because I’m thinking of you.’
I don’t answer.
Chapter 35
KEEPING WATCH
I’m on watch with Noah. We’ve had a quiet night, with no sign of Infected. I hope it stays that way; I’m ready for bed. I haven’t spoken a word to Noah about my encounter with Hannah. I’m still shocked at the way she acted: suggestive, like I would drop Victoria and run away with her. It has my head in a spin and I push any dark thoughts about her deep in my mind. I love my wife deeply, and cheating on her is something I would never do.
I missed my chance to talk to Tyler yesterday and I feel pissed off about it. I had opportunities to apologise but didn’t have the guts to admit I was wrong. I’m still not sure if I am wrong. I play the event over and over in my mind and wonder if I would have made the shot. I guess I’ll never know, and I guess when I’m ready to talk I will. Perhaps tomorrow, because now I need to wake him and Amy for their turn on sentry duty and it’s not the time or place to bring it up.
I go to Amy’s room. I’m surprised when I find Lincoln in the bed next to her. I gently shake her.
‘Wake up.’
She mumbles something unintelligible and I respond by telling her it’s her turn.
She groans, ‘Okay.’
Tyler is snoring away when I shove him. I’m not as kind as I was to Amy, and he grumbles back. But I don’t care what he has to say and shove him again.
‘Get up,’ I hiss.
I’m tired and want to go to bed. With fewer people for guard duty things are only going to get harder and I need to sleep. I leave Tyler’s room and head downstairs for a drink before bed. Noah is still awake, leaning on the edge of the kitchen table waiting for his cue to leave. He seems more ragged these days, and has stopped shaving so his beard is starting to grow some length. We all kind of gave up in those departments, and with the limited supplies there is only so much we can do.
‘They’re just getting up.’ I check the time on the wall. It’s twelve minutes past six. The sun will be up soon and I want to get to sleep before it’s too light.
‘Think I’ll work on those two bikes this afternoon, if I’m not too tired,’ Noah says.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. Must be the spark plugs. I picked up a few at the last place. Hopefully it’ll work this time.’
‘Nice. Give us something extra to use when we start exploring again.’
‘Let’s have another go at riding to the top of that hill.’
We both begin to chuckle, knowing very well our last efforts to ride Dead Man’s Hill, prior to the outbreak, ended prematurely: too many trees, logs, rocks and fences holding us back.
‘Perhaps one day,’ I say. ‘One day, when it’s all over, we can try again.’
We chat for another few minutes until we hear feet stumbling down the stairs. Amy is wearing a thick grey coat and Tyler a navy blue jumper. Both are in long pants and heavy-duty work boots. The winter months are approaching, and cooler days are creeping up on us sporadically. Last night was cold; they’ll need the warm clothes this morning.
‘Enjoy guys,’ I say, looking at Amy.
There is a grunt and she gives me the finger. ‘Always do, Jackson.’
I feel Noah’s hand on my shoulder. ‘Enjoy your sleep, mate.’ And he leaves the room to join Hannah.
‘Yeah, you too.’
Tyler has his back turned and is getting a drink from the fridge. I could speak to him now, but decide against it and head to bed.
In my sleep I dream of a world that only exists now within my imagination. I’m back home safe with Victoria and living out a day-to-day life with endless possibilities. It’s a warm Saturday morning and Victoria has organised for us to go to the food markets first thing, and then we are free to enjoy the weekend.
I feel tired from the week I have just endured, but reluctantly say yes, knowing very well it’s going to be busy. Neither of us like shopping, but we need essentials for the following week, and the supermarket’s imported fruit and vegetables are always disappointing.
We arrive at the markets and I’m standing a
t a stall with an apple in my hand. There are so many to choose from. I glance to my right and spot an elderly woman wearing a large brimmed hat and picking at a pile of grapes. A young man is placing a pineapple in his basket and a small child is running around between the legs of the customers. The place is packed, and this is just one of dozens of stalls in the busy hall.
I place a few apples in my trolley and continue shopping. Victoria is at another stall buying bread and I spot her waving at me and holding up what looks to be a sourdough loaf. It’s huge, about the size of a football, and I give her the nod of approval.
A man bumps into me as I sneak around to grab some bananas. A pear falls from my basket. He doesn’t say anything and continues shopping. I ignore his arrogance, and bend down to pick it up. As I return to a standing position, I notice a pair of swollen legs. They are purple and covered with small bumps that are oozing a black puss-like substance. There are no shoes on the feet, and I see the person has stepped in something red that has stained between their toes.
I’m still crouching down staring at the legs, when I realise the person has stopped to face me. I peer up to see ferocious eyes glaring at me, and a smile that speaks of cruelty. It’s the elderly woman who was picking at the grapes. Below the brim of her hat hangs a loose flap of bleeding skin. I gasp and quickly stand, dropping my basket and taking a step back.
She approaches me with a snarl, her teeth snapping together. I turn to run and see a man behind me with his left arm missing. He is bleeding over the oranges in a tub on the floor. He doesn’t move, but watches me with deathly eyes. I’m about to scream when I feel something bump into my leg. It’s the small boy who was running around earlier, except this time his face is covered in blood. I quickly shove the boy away and edge back towards the exit of the hall, glancing around to find the other customers are staring at me oddly as if oblivious to what is happening.
When I’m outside the stall I search for Victoria, but I can’t find her in the sea of people. I catch the eye of a woman across the room whose face is half missing. I scream involuntary, my body so scared that it just comes out. A few dozen people stop and look at me. I begin pointing to the woman and then back at the stall, but find the three people I saw earlier are missing and the woman has now morphed into the crowd.
