The Afflicted: A Zombie Novel

by Watts, Russ

  Joe looked over the newcomer with curiosity. Looks as if he’s been to hell and back, he thought. Evan was covered in blood, his clothes were ripped to pieces, and he smelt strongly of fuel and vomit.

  “Nice suit. So where did you come from, the terminal? Do you work here? It’s chaos from what we saw. We barely managed to make it in here.”

  Evan wiped his brow, only making his face even dirtier.

  “I’m not really sure, but I think I was on that plane. I just woke up on the runway out there. Then the plane exploded and...I don’t know. I just ran and ended up here. There are things out there. People, but, they’re dead. Only they’re not.” Evan felt dizzy. “My head...” he began, trying to hold himself together. “Do you have any water?”

  Joe disappeared momentarily and came back with a small bottle. It was warm, but Evan drank it down gratefully.

  “Thought you might want these too?” and Joe held out two tablets in his hands. “Aspirin. There’s a first aid kit on the wall there. You look pretty banged up, mate.”

  As Evan swallowed the pills, Joe continued.

  “We heard the explosion from in here. Shook the whole bloody building, freaked the kids right out. I thought it must be one of the planes coming down. Did you see anyone else out there?”

  “No, nobody alive anyway. There were a couple of people I tried to help but...I don’t think anyone else made it. There were bodies everywhere. I don’t know how the hell I made it here.”

  Evan was massaging his temples, the blinding pain in his head only intensifying.

  “You should take it easy, mate, you’ve had a bang on the head. Probably a few by the sound of it,” Joe said with genuine concern. He could see a massive bruise forming on Evan’s head. There were cuts and grazes all over him and his suit was littered with scorch marks and rips. Joe wasn’t sure how it still hung on his body.

  Evan felt in his pockets and remembered the lost phone. His wallet was gone too, but there was something in his shirt pocket, a small scrap of paper. It looked like a boarding pass but it was so badly ripped and charred that he couldn’t make anything out. There was a number: QF136 or 138? Seat 13A. That was all he could make out.

  “Doesn’t tell me much, does it?” The numbers meant nothing to him, only serving to confirm that he must have been on that plane. He crumpled it up and threw it on the floor.

  “Before the plane blew up, I had a phone in my hand. It’s gone now, probably smashed. There was a message from my son, Charlie, saying he was trapped. I had a photo on me of a boat too. I don’t remember anything before today, but when I saw that boat, I had a vague memory of him being on it. I feel like there’s some connection to that boat, but I can’t quite put my finger on it, you know?”

  Evan trailed off, lost in his thoughts.

  “Well, I hope your family wasn’t on that plane. In that suit, you look like you’re dressed for business, so maybe you were on a business trip? Look, they’re probably safe at home waiting for you. Karyn, Mrs Craven, I told her to stay at home, but she wouldn’t listen. Wanted to get away, leave the country, as if we could. There’s nowhere safe to go, this is happening all over the world. I don’t know where she thought we were going to go to.

  “Her house is like a fortress too: security locks, gates, electric fencing, the works. Too late now. She’s lucky her kids are here. Shame about Pete, he was a top man.”

  Evan’s head was spinning and he was struggling to focus on Joe’s words. He stood up.

  “What the hell is going on anyway? Where are the police? Why isn’t someone doing something about this? How long are those things going to be out there?” The constant bangs and scraping noises on the hangar walls were beginning to agitate him. “I can’t stay here. I have to find my family.”

  Evan started talking faster and his words slurred together. Spots appeared in front of his eyes and Joe only just managed to catch him as he swayed and collapsed, dropping the water bottle which rolled away into the shadows. Joe slid off his jacket and put it under Evan’s head, laying him down carefully. With Evan passed out, Joe walked over to the corner of the hangar, far away from his boss and sat, waiting for the nightmare to end.

  * * * *

  Evan lay in the dark, listening to his new companions sleeping, faint breathing and coughing breaking the silence. There was practically no sound coming from outside the hangar, just the wind wheezing and whistling around the building. He could hear no sound of life out there, alive or dead. There were no voices or footsteps. The banging on the walls from earlier had ceased. The shuffling and scratching had stopped. He couldn’t see much in the dark and wondered how long he’d been out. There was no way of telling the time and he felt into his pocket for his phone. Of course, he remembered, it was gone, lost in the explosion, probably smashed to pieces. So, he thought, I can remember what happened a few hours ago, but nothing of the last thirty years.

  He sat up and waited for the head-rush to fade away. The cold, concrete hangar floor was uncomfortable and Evan’s back hurt. Truth was, everything hurt. He stood up quietly. He could see Joe lying on a blanket nearby but he couldn’t see the others. He sneaked over to the wall and found the first aid kit. Reaching around inside the box, he fished out some more aspirin. He felt around gingerly for some water, but not finding any, swallowed them dry.

  Evan walked over to the door and listened. He couldn’t hear anything. Maybe they were alone. Maybe all those things, those creatures, had left! He put his hand on the lock and prepared to bring the deadbolt back so he could venture outside, maybe see if that car worked. As he did so, a hand grabbed his shoulder and his heart skipped a beat. Evan whirled around.

  “Steady on, mate,” whispered Joe, “I wouldn’t do that. It sounds quiet, but you don’t know what’s out there. They could be waiting.”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” said Evan, relieved. They spoke in hushed voices like naughty schoolboys. “How long was I out?”

  “Six or seven hours or so I think. It’s just past midnight now. Seriously, trust me. It’s not safe out there. You feeling any better?”

  “A little. Where are the others?”

  “They took the penthouse suite,” said Joe, nodding over to the jet. “Their own private jet. I’ve been inside it once. I got the grand tour when they bought it a couple of years ago. Decked out with everything you need for a life of luxury I tell you. Reclining leather chairs, mini-bar, wall-to-wall carpet, even a champagne bar. Oh, don’t worry about them, mate, they’ll be sleeping ‘til the sun comes up.”

  “Look, I’m sorry about before. Things were a bit crazy.” Evan offered his hand and the two men shook.

  “No worries. Look, Evan, I’m beat. I’ll fill you in with what’s going on in the morning, but, right now, I’ve a nice little spot reserved on a concrete floor. If you ask me, you should get some rest too. I know you said you need to get to your family, but you won’t get six feet if you go outside now. You can’t see for shit. Wait till morning and we can figure this out, okay?”

  Evan decided Joe was right. He didn’t even know where he was going. His family might be on that boat, but where was it? He didn’t even know where he was right now.

  “Sure, thanks. Don’t suppose there’s any more blankets, are there?”

  “Yeah, here you go,” said Joe, grabbing a fire blanket that was lying beside the door. He brushed it down and handed it to Evan. Joe went back to his makeshift bed, suit jacket and blanket spread out on the ground.

  “Hey, Joe,” said Evan, “where are we?”

  Joe smiled.

  “Coffee capital of the world, mate: Melbourne.”

  Evan watched Joe lay down and then did the same, spreading the blanket out on the floor, using his tatty jacket as a makeshift pillow. It was difficult trying to sleep, but he knew his best hope of finding his son and his family was in the morning, fully rested. He didn’t intend to stop for anything, or anyone. He was itching to get on the road already but his whole body still hurt from t
he crash and subsequent escape earlier. Despite what his mind was telling him, his body was telling him to take a break. His brain just wouldn’t shut down so easily. He kept replaying in his head those last frightened words he had heard Charlie say.

  “I’m scared. I’m scared.”

  Evan kept imagining the worst case scenarios. He was sure that Anna was his daughter, though it was just a gut feeling rather than any certain knowledge. What if his children were alone on the boat, out at sea? He couldn’t remember his son much, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t steer a yacht. What was it his son had said: that they were trapped? What if they were down in the cabin, locked in, unable to get out? Evan concentrated on picturing his children. He tried to let their images come to him. He envisaged them on the boat, and to where they might have sailed. Vague memories began to come to him. He remembered lying on the deck in the sunshine whilst his son fished over the side. He saw the outline of a woman beside him. His wife? Where was she? He wished he could feel something, but this woman was no more than a blurry memory to him at the moment. Was his wife alive or dead? Were they even married anymore? He consciously ran his fingers over his wedding ring. So he was still married then: ‘til death us do part.

  Another memory struggled to the front of his tired, overworked mind. He could remember being at the tiller. A memory shot through to him of an old man coming to help him steer. A cold sweat sprung out over Evan as the realisation hit him. This Grand-dad that Charlie had mentioned: he was Evan’s father! How could he have forgotten his own father? Images of his father, Tom, yes, Tom, came back to him: a strong, tall, well-built man. Evan instinctively knew Tom was a trustworthy man. An image came to him of his father in uniform. Had he been a policeman, a soldier? It disappeared quickly before Evan could pin it down. Evan remembered how they used to take his son fishing together on the yacht. Tom doted on his grandchildren, he would never let any harm come to them! Fatigue finally began to overtake his restless mind, and he yawned. Somewhere out there was his family, and tomorrow he would go to them, somehow.

  Evan was not aware when he slipped into sleep. It was a restless one. The yacht, ‘Lemuria,’ surfaced occasionally in his thoughts, slipping in and out of his consciousness as easily as it skimmed through the ocean waves.

  There was only one vivid, pertinent scene. It was his daughter, Anna, in a bright red dress, skipping down an old stony pier toward the boat. She was giggling and running toward him, shouting.

  “Daddy, can we stay here forever? Granddad says Tassie is the best place in the whole world! Dolly wants to stay too,” she said, embracing a Barbie doll to her chest. Anna beamed up at Evan with big brown eyes.

  Tom, behind her, was talking but Evan couldn’t make anything out. Charlie was whispering to Evan, his son’s mouth only an inch away from his ear. Evan could practically feel his son’s breath on his neck.

  “We come here every year. Let’s just stay, Dad, let’s stay. Forever, and ever, and ever...” Evan’s nameless wife was nowhere to be seen. The image faded and Evan was powerless as the elusive memories of his family disintegrated into hazy dreams.

  * * * *

  When Evan woke in the morning, he didn’t remember the nightmares. He forgot about the dead reaching for him in his dreams, the clammy fingers clawing at his legs, the dreams where he hadn’t made it off the plane, where he’d sat in his seat, burning in agony, until it exploded. He remembered one crucial thing though: his father’s boat was on Tasmania and they did go there every year. He couldn’t recall his past, his marriage, where he’d grown up and gone to school. He still couldn’t remember his wife or what he did for a living. But he was pretty certain now that Charlie and Anna were on that boat, which meant they were safe. If they were trapped in the boat’s cabin, then he prayed and hoped that was true. Better there than out in the world he had seen yesterday. He had to get to that boat.

  CHAPTER THREE

  What was it Joe had said, that this was happening everywhere? When Evan woke, the first thing he did was wander over to Joe who was trying to sleep, but failing. He had to know what was going on.

  “Hey, Joe, how you doin’?” Evan stood over him and forced a tired smile.

  “Rough as a bear’s you-know-what.” Joe stretched and yawned. He gave up on sleep and got up. “Probably better than you though. Not much chance of a coffee this morning I suppose,” he said, putting his jacket back on and kicking the blanket to the wall.

  “Hey, Joe, yesterday you said this was happening everywhere. I know this might seem like a stupid question to you, but what is?”

  “You really have no idea?” Joe looked at the red and brown bruising on Evan’s face. He looked as if he had gone ten rounds in the ring and come off a lot worse than the other guy. Joe glanced over to the jet where the Cravens were still sleeping. A solitary beam of light came in from the skylight above, illuminating the jet’s sleek shell. His watch read close to eight am. He walked over to a couple of upturned boxes and sat down, beckoning Evan to follow him. As he pulled his shoes back on, Joe began.

  “Twenty-four hours ago, I was doing my job like everyone else. The world was shitty, as usual, and then it got a whole lot shittier. I work for Mr Craven, which means, unfortunately, I work for her too.” Joe pointed to the jet and sighed.

  “I’m supposed to be the driver, but in reality I’m the dogsbody. I do a bit of babysitting, pick up the groceries, the dry-cleaning. I even have to clean the bloody pool. I like my driving though. I used to be a driver in a different sense, if you know what I mean.” He winked at Evan.

  “Anyway, I was working on the car yesterday and Mrs Craven runs into the garage, shouting her head off about some riots going on and that I have to go get the kids from school. Makes it sound like a big emergency. I thought she was exaggerating, of course, acting like she’s the boss. She likes to think she is, but I know who and what pays my wages and it ain’t her pretty face.

  “So on the way to the school, I listened to the radio. It was all a bit muddled but it was true, there were riots everywhere. Not just here, but they were saying it was some worldwide event, as if somehow they were connected. Europe, America, China; even our cousins over the ditch were having some trouble in Auckland. The news didn’t say why though, just that there was lots of fighting going on and the army was being called in. I thought shit; it must be bad if they’re calling the green berets in!

  “Anyway, I picked up the kids and it seemed everyone else had the same idea. Nearly everyone else had cleared out; I was last getting to the school. I didn’t want to scare the kids so I turned the radio off and told them they just had to go home and speak to their mother. The kids didn’t say a word, just ran inside when they got home. I guess they probably heard something at school about it, you know what kids are like. They were probably on their mobiles in class and knew about it before bloody CNN. So anyway, they flew off and I stayed in the car and turned the radio back on. This is when it gets fucking freaky.

  “The radio was saying that Melbourne was now in lock-down: that we all had to stay inside, lock the doors, you know? They said that if anyone in the family was injured we had to lock them outside.”

  Joe emphasised the last word. Evan said nothing. He wanted to hear as much as possible. If he was going outside, he needed to know the full picture and he didn’t like where this story was going.

  “The radio said that the dead were coming back to life, that if anyone you knew had died, that you had to either lock them outside or kill them by...by severing the head. Severing the head? Can you believe this shit? I swear I’ve done some things in my past I’m not proud of, and I’ve seen some weird stuff, but this? This was insane. I tried a few different stations but it was the same on every one. They were talking about zombies, running around the streets, our streets!”

  Joe paused and shook his head as though he still couldn’t believe it.

  “I haven’t got any family myself, so I called Dan, a mate of mine, he lives in Sydney. Now you’ve got to remem
ber, this bloke can handle himself. Built like a brick shithouse he is. Never started a fight, but never lost one neither. Never. We used to call him Dangerous Dan. Yet when I called him, he sounded like a little boy again, like when we used to hang out at school. He lives up in the hills and you can see Sydney, beautiful from his place. He made a lot of money back in the day and built himself a sweet pad. He told me he was looking out of his window and Sydney was burning. He said the whole city was on fire. He said the police, army, or someone, had just been down his street, shouting and waving guns around. Reckoned they’d shot his flat-mate, Sammy, for no reason except Sammy was unlucky enough to be in their way. Dan said that Sammy took it and just got back up! Evan, you’re not supposed to get back up when you’ve a chest full of lead.

  “Next thing I know, there’s a load of banging and stuff in the background and he’s telling me that Sammy’s back in the house. Last thing I heard before we got cut off, Dan said he’d barricaded himself in his bedroom and Sammy, full of bullet-holes remember, is banging on the door, trying to get in. What is that about? I’ve never heard Dan sound that scared in my whole life.”

  Joe watched Evan taking it all in. “I need a drink.”

  “Me too, mate. Look in that box over there; I think there might be some water left. You find anything stronger, let me know,” said Joe.

  Evan found a solitary, dusty, bottle and brought it back to share with Joe. Evan realised that his headache was only going to get worse as Joe went on, and he gently rubbed the bruising on his face.

  “Well, two seconds later, and there’s this banging on the car window and it’s Mrs Craven, back in my face, telling me I need to go get Pete, now. He was working in the city. I didn’t really fancy going out there, but he’s not like her, he treats you right. He was more than a boss; he stood by me in the past when I had a bit of trouble, so I couldn’t just leave him. I figured I could get there and back fine, I’m pretty good behind the wheel. So off I go again, errand number two.” Joe stopped abruptly. The jet’s door swung open and its steps cascaded down onto the floor with an echoing clang. A pair of feet shuffled forward and appeared in the doorway.