by Ryan Casey
“Across the road while we have the chance!”
Hayden swung at another of the zombies. He hit this one in the neck, sent cool blood spurting out of the skinny, dark-haired woman’s jugular. She didn’t fall down completely, but just enough for Hayden, Sarah and Newbie to get past her.
Just enough.
The three of them ran to an identical brick wall to the one that Hayden had cowered behind not long ago. The brick wall where he’d accepted he was going to die. Where he’d given up.
The brick wall where he’d found the strength to push on. To survive.
“Where do we go, Hayden?” Sarah asked, as she pushed back another zombie, swung the crowbar at its skull. “Where the fuck do we go?”
Hayden observed the opposite side of Westleigh Road as he ran. He used his instincts that he’d picked up in puzzle mystery video games like Broken Sword. Tried to find something worth exploring—a place worthy of hiding.
A Range Rover with its passenger door ajar.
Another row of terraced houses, the side gate wide open.
A manhole cover leading down to a sewerage tunnel.
“Down that cover. If we’re quick. If they see us it’s no point. They’ll just follow us through then, or gas us or something. Quick!”
They sprinted across the road. Hayden still hadn’t heard the front door of the terraced house open. The bullets had stopped. From the other road behind the house, he swore he could still hear the engine of the armoured vehicle rumbling on.
Hayden reached the manhole cover first. He pulled it away, dragged it from the road. “Get down there, both of you.”
He let Sarah and Newbie climb down before him. He kept watching the door of the terraced house that the troops were in, waiting for it to open, waiting for their cover to be blown.
But Newbie and Sarah were both down in the dark, smelly pit below and the military still hadn’t emerged.
Hayden climbed onto the ladder. He reached for the manhole cover, ready to pull it over them.
The door of the terraced house swung open.
Hayden pulled his hands back and ducked his head. He heard the military personnel firing stray shots at the zombies outside the house. He lowered himself down into the sewer, the stench down here even worse than it was overhead.
“They … they killed Frank,” Sarah said, as the three of them crouched in the darkness of the sewer and listened to the gunshots and footsteps above. “The army. They … they were supposed to help us. And they killed Frank.”
Hayden looked up at the light peeking down the manhole cover. He looked at the grey sky, listened to the military barking commands at one another, the zombies tumbling to the road with every shot. “They weren’t supposed to help us,” he said.
“What … what do you mean?”
Admitting the truth—the realisation—was harder than Hayden expected. But he got there in the end.
“They weren’t supposed to help us. The military. They were supposed to kill us.”
Silence from Sarah. Even more silence from Newbie.
“But … but why would they—”
“Because to them, we’re all the same. We could be bitten. We could be carrying the infection. To them, we’re just a risk to the wider world. We’re just like the zombies to them. No, we’re worse—we’re bottom of the food chain, and they’re at the top.”
More silence from Sarah and Newbie. The bullets above eased off.
“We’re the hunted,” Hayden said. “We’re prey.”
Twenty-Three
Hayden crouched against the sewer wall. It was pitch black down here except for the light beaming down the manhole cover. He listened to the noises from Westleigh Road above. The military had stopped speaking some time ago. He’d heard a few more gunshots peppering at the zombies, a few grunts and gasps, and then it had all stopped. The armoured vehicle had rumbled away. There were no signs of the zombies. The bitter smell of post-death urine had been replaced by … the bitter smell of sewerage urine. Which was, unbelievably, even worse.
But it wasn’t zombie. And that was a bonus.
“Are they gone?” Sarah asked.
Her voice came from somewhere to Hayden’s left. He could hear her breathing shakily. On his right, he could feel the warmth from Newbie’s body. He hadn’t said a word since they’d got down into the sewer. He hadn’t even sworn, which Hayden found amazing in itself.
He’d just sat there, completely silent, while they waited for the military to disappear.
“I think so,” Hayden said. “But I wouldn’t like to say for certain.”
“Good,” Sarah said. Hayden thought she was going to add something else, but she left it at that.
Hayden listened to more of the silence. He wasn’t used to being the one who actually wanted to break the silence in any given situation, let alone this one. But he had to. He had to, because someone had to.
“We need to decide our next step,” he said.
Of course, his suggestion was greeted with more silence. And he could understand it. They’d been on their way to a military bunker, where they believed safety was waiting.
And then, the very same military had shot Frank dead. Chased the remaining three of them. Given up, eventually, but not without leaving them in the middle of the zombie-stricken town to fend for themselves.
“Maybe they were just … just bad eggs,” Sarah said. Hayden knew she was on about the military. And he wanted to believe she was right.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I think they were following orders. And when … when you think about it, it makes sense.”
“They killed Frank,” Sarah spat. “It … it doesn’t make sense.”
“Look at it from their point of view,” Hayden said. “There’s an outbreak. An outbreak that the government want to contain at all costs. Trying to save everyone is tedious and unfeasible. It puts everyone else at risk. But killing everyone. Cleaning up. It makes … a weird kind of sense.”
Sarah sniffed. “Fuck,” she said. “I … but they’re supposed to help us. They’re supposed to help us.”
Hayden didn’t say anything else to her on the matter. He figured she was coming to terms with the truth in her own way.
“There is a bonus to all this though. A positive.”
“To Frank’s death?”
“To the military purge,” Hayden said.
“Can’t wait to hear this theory.”
“If they’re purging, if they’re … if they’re making efforts to clean up Smileston, then it means there’s something worth cleaning for.”
“I’m not following.”
Hayden tried to figure out a better way of putting his theory. “If all hope was lost, all over the country and all over the world, why would anybody make the effort to kill people who might be infected? Why not just leave them to their own devices? Leave them to die by themselves? But if there’s something worth saving, then the government are going to do all they can to save it. Do you get what I’m saying?”
Sarah didn’t respond at first. It took her a moment. A moment of false starts, of hesitations. Water trickled somewhere from the river of sewerage up ahead. Over the top of them, way in the distance, Hayden heard someone shouting out for help. But they were way too far away to even think about helping.
He wondered what the military would do when they found them. Well, he didn’t really wonder. He knew exactly what they’d do. Kill them, just like they’d killed Frank. Just like they’d tried to kill Hayden, Sarah and Newbie. Just like they’d killed the zombies. Because that’s all they all were now. Just zombies, each and every one of them. All of them were the same to the military. And the sooner they accepted that, the better chance they’d have at survival.
“He didn’t have to die,” Newbie said.
His voice startled Hayden somewhat. It’d been a while since he’d heard him speak.
Sarah sighed. “Newbie, don’t say—”
“Going to the bunker. Finding the mili
tary. Those were my calls. If I hadn’t made those calls, he’d still be alive.”
Hayden shook his head. “We were right to try and find the military. We were right to—”
“And Usman, too. I brought Jamie into your company. I didn’t know he’d been bitten, but I brought him to you. Usman wouldn’t have turned if I hadn’t brought Jamie with me. Sarah wouldn’t have had to …” He paused. Hayden knew exactly what the image in Newbie’s mind was because he had it, too.
Sarah, jabbing the knife into Usman’s neck. Blood spurting out as she sliced and sliced. The blood that still covered her right now, constantly reminding her of what she’d done, the move she’d made—when she had to.
“You didn’t know about Jamie,” Hayden said. “Just like you didn’t know about the military. You can’t blame yourself for trying. You need to … to snap out of this bullshit or it’ll drive you crazy.”
Hayden wasn’t sure where the strength to say these things came from. But he knew they were the right things to say.
“Then what do we do next?” Newbie asked.
Again, Hayden found it strange to hear someone else ask him what the next step should be. But Sarah wasn’t replying, so he figured it was up to him, after all. “We have to get out of Smileston. Which goes without saying. But … but we can’t just go wandering into Preston or Manchester. We have to get off the roads. Into the countryside. Out of the way of … of civilisation. For now.”
“And then what?” Sarah asked.
Hayden tried to think of an answer. A legitimate, reasonable answer. All he could come up with was: “We assess the next step from there.”
For the first time in Hayden’s adult life, he could feel something unfamiliar running through his body. Responsibility. A willingness to dig himself—and his friends—out of a shitty situation without relying on other people to bail him out or do the dirty work.
“Things have changed though,” Newbie said. “It ain’t just the infected we have to worry about anymore.”
“No, it isn’t. You’re right about that. But … but that’s out of our control. Only thing in our control is getting out of here and getting to the countryside.”
“Which is, what?” Sarah said. “Six, seven miles away?”
“It won’t be easy,” Hayden said. “We’ll have to take the main roads at first. And ideally, we’ll have to avoid driving ’cause it’ll draw too much attention to us. But if we take the back roads, it’s possible. We can make it. Or … or at least, we can try.”
Hayden could just about make out Sarah and Newbie’s faces in the glimmer of light, now. He could see Newbie shaking his head, Sarah covering her face with her hands and puffing out her cheeks. “I don’t know if I can keep on doing this. I … I don’t know if I have it in me.”
Hayden stepped away from the soggy sewer wall. He wiped his hands together. “You have to. We all have to. That’s just … that’s just how it is now. Come on. We’d better get moving. See how far down the road this sewer takes us. Emerge when we have to.”
Hayden felt a hand grab his as he walked ahead. He turned and saw Newbie staring at him with narrowed eyes.
At first, a fearful part of him thought he might be about to beat the shit out of him for some unknown reason. But instead, he said: “You’re tough, Hayden. Tougher than I thought. I’ll give you that.”
Hayden nodded. He didn’t agree, really. He was weak. He always had been. He’d been so reliant on other people all his life that he didn’t have to be strong. But right now, he needed to be. Not just for himself, but for the people around him.
And being strong was strangely … liberating.
He stepped away from Newbie and led the way into the darkness.
He checked his cracked phone once more. The screen wasn’t even visible anymore—just a mash of black and white lines. The battery would die soon. All hope of contacting his family again would die.
He hoped his sister, his mum and dad were okay. That they were keeping safe.
And then he stuffed his phone back in his pocket.
He had to think about surviving now.
He had to get the hell out of Smileston and into the countryside.
He had to step up to the plate, make his parents proud, even if they weren’t here to see him do it.
Twenty-Four
Hayden led the way through the dark, damp sewer and tried his best to ignore the scratching sounds and the splashing of the water.
He tried to keep his eyes on his feet, but doing so was hard because it was so damned dark in here, even with the little blueish light from the torch they’d grabbed from the terraced house on Westleigh Road. His heart pounded as the awful smells of wasted bodily fluids surrounded him. He doubted this idea the more they walked. It was dark. And sure, they had torches, but that was potentially a problem too. The range on these little fucking fairy lights was so weak that someone ahead would see them coming before Hayden and his group had the chance to weigh them up.
The zombies. They were bad enough.
But even worse were the military. Waiting for them. Just biding their time, preparing to put them all down …
“How long are we supposed to wade through this shithole?” Sarah asked.
Hayden licked his lips and regretted it right away as the bitter taste of fallen sewer water spread around his mouth. “As long as it takes,” he said.
“And you’re absolutely sure it’ll lead out in the middle of the countryside?” Sarah asked. “Like we’ve stepped inside a frigging T.A.R.D.I.S and suddenly—poof! Into another world.”
Hayden could sense the sarcasm in Sarah’s voice. Truth was, he didn’t know exactly where he was going. Just that it made sense for the main tunnel line to run right down the main roads of Smileston, then eventually exit in the rural areas. “That’s the plan,” he said. “You okay back there, Newbie?”
Newbie grunted. He hadn’t muttered a word on this journey through the sewers. Hayden figured he was still struggling with his guilt issues for Frank’s death after leading them to the military in the first place. Guilt issues that he’d have to get over if he wanted to survive, but guilt issues he could empathise with.
Sarah seemed chirpier, though. She was being sarcastic, which was something. Sarcasm in itself required a level of humility. The truth was, none of this was easy for any of them. It couldn’t be easy for anyone trying to survive in this town.
But there was a light at the end of this long, shit-stinking tunnel. And that light was the countryside. Somewhere where they could start again out of the way of the military.
Or at least, somewhere they could try to start again.
“I’m mostly intrigued to see your country life survival skills,” Sarah said, like she was reading Hayden’s mind. “Never quite had you down as the fire-setting, squirrel-skinning type. Former cub scout? Or still one, perhaps?”
Hayden smiled. Wasn’t like he got to enjoy banter every day, especially banter with a real, live woman. “What type did you have me down as, then?”
Sarah puffed out her lips as they waded through puddles of thick sewerage water. “Oh, I dunno. The kind of guy that still lives at home with Mummy and Daddy. Mummy still buys his jeans. Never mastered the art of tying his own tie. That kind of guy. No offence.”
“None taken,” Hayden replied. But he was offended. Just a little bit. Because although Sarah was wrong about him living at home with his parents, he did struggle to tie a tie.
“So what about me?” Sarah asked. “What sort of person did you have me down as?”
Hayden wanted to say that he had her down as an independent woman who liked to sleep around and party, but he didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot. “Respectable, kind of,” he said.
“Respectable kind of. I’ll take that.”
Hayden pointed the light up ahead. Still no sign of anyone or anything down the tunnel—not like his crappy torch would reveal much even if there were. “What type actually are you?”
Sarah l
aughed. “Wow. Frank’s gone less than an hour and already we’re disobeying his rules on talking about our past lives. Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh about that. I’ve … I’ve never been too good at dealing with things like this.”
“You had to deal with a lot of loss in your life?” It sounded like a hammy question, but there was nothing Hayden could do to take it back.
“My fair share,” Sarah said. Then she went quiet, and Hayden sensed he’d touched on a sensitive topic. “Maybe talking about the past isn’t so—”
“Do you hear that?”
Newbie’s voice felt like it had come from nowhere. He hadn’t spoken for ages, so it seemed strange to hear him open his mouth and say something again.
Hayden slowed down. “What do you mean?”
“Above us,” Newbie whispered. “Do you hear that?”
Hayden still didn’t know what Newbie meant at first. But then he heard the scream. A woman’s scream. And then somebody else crying.
Someone that sounded like … a kid.
A baby kid.
Hayden and the others stood still as the sounds of the screams echoed from above.
“Should we try to help them?” Sarah asked.
Hayden was about to suggest the same when he heard the rumbling of an engine, and then gunfire.
Military.
“Please,” a woman shouted. She was crying. Sobbing. Hayden could hear the wail of the baby echoing down into the sewer. “Please just—just let us live. We haven’t been bit. I swear to you we haven’t been—”
The woman didn’t finish begging because gunfire splattered out of the military weapons.
The sobbing stopped.
So too did the wailing.
Hayden felt his body shaking as he listened to the footsteps of the military move above him. This wasn’t just a zombie attack they were subject to—it was a massacre. A genocide. The people of Smileston were being expended for the preservation of the wider world. It made a sick kind of sense … but it wasn’t right. It just wasn’t right.
