by C. A. Earl
‘Get her out of here!’ yelled Katie.
Harry turned and swept the girl up in his massive arms, giving a last look over his shoulder before disappearing with her into the corridor. It was all too much for Chris, who finally succumbed to unconsciousness. Still on her hands and knees, Katie leaned over the youngster, knife in hand, while Ben manoeuvred Chris’ head so that the wound was accessible.
‘Okay’ Ben said with a gulp, using a combination of elbow and leg to hold the teenager’s arms down. ‘I’ve got him.’
Ashley clipped the metal baton back onto his belt and gave another prolonged sigh. ‘Hey, just hang on a second-‘
‘I don’t care what you say!’ barked Katie. ‘I’m not going to kill him and neither are you.’
The Scotsman held up his hands in submission. ‘Look, I was just gonna say that that blade’s probably infected too.’ Reaching into the pocket of his chinos, he pulled out a small metal hip flask and held it up, shaking it. Then he handed it to Katie. ‘I still think you’re wasting your time, but if he does make it then he owes me a bloody good single malt...’
Katie frantically unscrewed the cap and poured some of the contents over the gleaming blade. Then she wiped the flat of the knife on her jeans before dribbling the rest of the liquor over it again and dropping the empty flask onto the carpet.
‘Does that even work?’ asked Ben as the heady scent of whisky filled his nostrils.
Katie glared at him. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’
With Ashley kneeling to hold Chris’ legs, Katie bowed her head and got to work. Over the next few minutes both men would need all their strength to hold the teenager down, with Chris screaming at the first incision and passing out another three times before the task was completed.
And then it would all come down to waiting...
It was half an hour later when Chris came to. The first thing he noticed was that he was sitting back on the sofa below the window. His vision was slightly blurry and his left ear was burning like crazy. He instinctively touched the side of his head, tracing his fingers over a wad of cotton wool that was held in place by a bandage which ran diagonally across his forehead. He gritted his teeth at the pain and blinked to clear his eyes, which is when the memory of what had happened came flooding back.
‘How are you feeling?’ asked a female voice from in front of him. Initially a blurry shape, the image of Katie gradually came into focus.
Chris opened his mouth to speak but at first the words wouldn’t come. His eyes filled with tears but he brushed them away and looked past her. The large room was otherwise empty but a bloody smear on the wall and a large crimson stain on the carpet told the tale. When eventually he did manage to talk, his voice was weak and drenched with misery.
‘Why, Katie? Why did she do it?’
Katie rubbed her aching brow. ‘I don’t know. I thought I’d got through to her, I really did. I’m so sorry, Chris. I think the person that you knew went a long time ago.’
‘But...she must’ve known that she would turn..?’
‘She wasn’t thinking straight, Chris. I don’t think she knew what she was doing in the end...’
‘Where...where is she?’
Katie gulped. ‘Harry’s buried her outside.’
The teenager nodded and slowly reclined into the sofa, feeling a strange ache in every joint of his body. Years ago he had suffered a genuine bout of flu that kept him in bed for three days straight. This felt like the start of that, except that he knew it wasn’t flu this time around.
‘Why didn’t you just kill me?’ he asked, staring directly into Katie’s eyes. ‘I know Ashley wanted to; I heard him...’
Katie looked away and then down at the floor. ‘Because I didn’t want to give up on you, Chris. Your ear was bleeding a hell of a lot. I thought if I could cut below the wound and get the infection out then you would have a chance. We had to use the lighter too, to heat the blade so that I could cauterize the wound and stop it bleeding. That’s probably why it hurts as much as it does...’
Chris’ mouth turned down at the edges. ‘But It didn’t work’ he mumbled. ‘I can feel it inside me.’
‘So what do we do now’ asked Ashley, his Scottish accent coming through stronger again as he paced the tiled kitchen floor. Ben and Harry were standing by the central island while Cassie was playing in the corner with her doll. The little girl, seemingly oblivious to their conversation, was wrapped up in a game she had created using a colander and some wooden salad tongs.
Harry pushed back the sleeve of his heavy waterproof coat and glanced at his watch. Prompted by the action,
Ben looked at his own wrist.
‘It’s twenty past’ he said, wiping his thumb across the scuffed glass face. ‘So we’ve still got time before they send the first bus out. That’s right, isn’t it?’
Ashley frowned and rubbed his forehead. ‘Yeah, if they haven’t changed anything that is...’
Beneath his bushy beard Harry Skinner pursed his lips. The original plan depended on using the element of surprise and also on having a lot of things go their way. Essentially, it relied on luck. Now a man light, the odds were stacking up against them. In his mind he began to tweak the plan, considering a more gung-ho approach.
‘I’m ready to go’ announced a voice from the open doorway, carving straight through the tension. The three men looked up to see Chris standing there dressed in the soldier’s black uniform, the goggles and mask dangling in his hand. The bandage covering his wounded ear and running across his forehead made him look every bit the seasoned war veteran. Katie stood behind him with her arms folded, a disapproving look on her face.
‘Bloody hell’ said Ben. ‘I didn’t expect to see you up and about. Uh, how...how do you feel?’
Chris gulped. The pain etched into his face made him look ten years older. ‘I’m not gonna lie. I’ve definitely been better. But I am ready to do this.’
The room fell completely silent for a moment. Even Cassie took a few seconds out of her game to gaze across the kitchen.
‘It’s too risky’ said Ashley, shaking his head and looking to Harry and Ben for support. ‘No offence Chris, but it’s a waste of a gun with you like that. We’re going up against trained soldiers. Our odds are slim enough anyway without you putting us at more risk.’
Harry gave a loud sigh. ‘If ‘e can hold a gun then ‘e can shoot it. It won’t matter how well trained they are if we catch ‘em by surprise and get our shots in first.’
The teenager nodded, his nostrils flaring. ‘I’m not staying here, okay? I know exactly what you’re thinking - tie me up and leave me here just in case I turn. I’m right, aren’t I?’
Ben’s eyes lowered to the floor. It was enough to tell the youngster that he had hit the nail on the head.
‘Look’ Chris continued. ‘Reg was wounded worse than me and he still managed to help us until it got a hold of him. Just let me do the same.’
Ben cleared his throat and looked at his watch again. ‘Well, if we’re going to do something, we’ve got to do it now.’
Harry Skinner scratched his beard and gave Chris a piercing glare. ‘You’re sure you can still do what needs t’ be done?’
Chris held up the goggles and looked at the reflection of his bandaged head in the dark lenses. ‘I know I can.’
~ 7 ~
Paige Ryder scratched the back of her neck and leaned her head against the grubby bus window. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the rattling of the reinforced glass and the meaty roar of the vehicle’s engine. This is it, she thought. The first day of the rest of your life.
A gentle nudge on her arm made her look to her right where an old woman in the next seat was holding up a stick of chewing gum. Paige smiled and took it from her, mouthing a thank you. She couldn’t remember the woman’s name – it was Maude or Maeve or Madge or something – but then again it didn’t really matter; the sound of the engine made conversation impossible anyway. Paige popped the gum in
to her mouth and started to chew, smiling to herself this time. The future might be uncertain but the war against bad breath was being won right here, right now.
The twenty-year old turned to look out of the window and took in the devastation once more. She sighed. The time spent at the leisure centre, with its secure walls and (albeit basic) supplies, had almost made her forget just how bad it was out here in the real world. Her once familiar town was unrecognisable now, its historical buildings either partially collapsed or entirely demolished. Abandoned cars, painstakingly removed from the main thoroughfare, littered every pavement and driveway with their burnt-out husks. And dotted here and there, the nearest around a football pitch’s length away, were them.
The dead.
There were about eight or nine of the things, moving in their familiar ‘clockwork-toy’ way, no doubt drawn from the ruins by the sound of the engine. Paige sat up straight and tried to get a better look at them just as the bus swung to the right and plunged into the darkness of a short tunnel. At that moment she was eternally thankful for three small ceiling lights that ran along the length of the vehicle. Instead of the outside world she now faced her own reflection in the shimmering window.
I can market this look, she thought. Black T-shirt. Khaki cargo pants. Chunky boots. Short, spiky black hair...
Apocalypse chic.
After a few seconds the bus emerged from the tunnel and lurched right again. Seated near the front, Paige hoisted herself up from her seat and turned around to look over her headrest. The other passengers, around thirty of them, stared back at her with a mixture of expressions on their strained faces. There was hope in some of them, sadness in others, fear in most...
Caught by a painful jab in the small of her back, Paige whirled around in surprise to face a black-garbed soldier, his features (as always) hidden by dark goggles and a Kevlar mask. In total there were three soldiers on the bus; one at each end of the main chassis plus the driver. This one’s rifle was aimed at the floor but Paige guessed that the end of the barrel had been used to get her attention. Pointing a gloved finger sharply downward, he shouted something that was lost amid the sound of the engine. The aggressive tone, however, was undeniable.
‘Okay, I get it’ said Paige, rubbing the base of her spine and slinking back into her seat. ‘You want me to sit down, right?’
Without another word, the soldier turned away and resumed his detail behind the smoked-glass cab of the driver. Annoyed, Paige shook her head while beside her the old woman leaned over and said something that again she couldn’t hear properly. She got the gist though: They’re supposed to be helping us. Why do they treat us like this?
After another four minutes the vehicle slowed and drew to a halt with the engine rumbling. People began shifting in their seats and looking nervously out of the windows. The areas on both sides were still as rubble-strewn as they had been before they had entered the tunnel.
‘What the fuck’s this all about?’ shouted a voice from the back. Paige recognised it as belonging to Dave Tattersall, a skin-headed brute of a man that she had struggled to gel with when they were back at the centre. His ham-fisted attempts to seduce her had fallen flat, at which point he branded her a lesbian and then gave her the stink-eye for the rest of the time. Paige was of course thrilled that he had been selected to leave on the same bus as her...
‘Stay in your seat!’ said the soldier at the back of the bus, jamming the barrel of his rifle into Dave’s broad shoulder. The skinhead gritted his teeth but remained seated. Paige faced front again, unable to resist a little smile at the bully being bullied.
‘Excuse me’ asked another loud voice, this time belonging to a grey-haired old man three rows back on the right side of the aisle. Paige knew him as Gerald, a seventy-two year old throwback to a more decent age; the sort of man who put on a shirt and tie to do the gardening. ‘Excuse me’ he repeated, waving his hands to get the attention of the soldier at the front. ‘Are we going to be here for a while?’
The soldier stared back through the dark lenses of his goggles, his chest rising and falling. Then he wheeled away toward the windows, looking out at an area full of more abandoned cars and half-demolished buildings. Seemingly confused, he turned and rapped his gloved hand on the smoked glass behind the driver’s cab. The driver, dressed identically to his two colleagues, held his arm up and pointed directly through the windscreen before slowly reaching down to turn off the ignition. As the engine fell silent the whispering voices of the passengers became immediately audible:
‘What is it?’ / ‘What’s going on?’ / ‘What are they doing?’
Turning to face his colleague at the back of the bus, the soldier behind the driver’s cab gestured for the other to join him outside.
‘Stay in your seats!’ the second man shouted while striding up the central aisle. The door shutters opened with a loud hiss and both men exited the vehicle with their guns aloft, the shutters snapping behind them. Immediately ignoring the order, seven people including Dave Tattersall sprang from their seats and rushed toward the glass screen behind the driver’s cab. Through it and the windscreen they could see the two soldiers walking cautiously in front of the vehicle toward something or someone on the road. Although the twin blocks of reinforced glass distorted the image somewhat, it looked like another pair of masked soldiers standing over a kneeling man. Having climbed onto her seat and with her head pressed against the ceiling, Paige Ryder was able to see better than most...
‘Ready?’ Ben Reilly whispered beneath the clinging mask, more to himself than anyone else. His heart was pounding and his mouth was dry. The goggles were one thing but the mask itself made him feel extremely claustrophobic. Was it because breathing through it wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be? Maybe it was just the realisation of what they were about to do...
Beside him a woozy Chris McReedy gently rocked back and forth on his heels. The virus was continuing to work its way through his system, making his skin itch and his bones ache. Grateful that the uniform and mask hid his frail condition, the youngster took a deep breath and gripped his rifle. He had made it this far. He would do what needed to be done before the sickness took him completely...
Kneeling in front of the two men was Ashley Layton, his head bowed in mock surrender. ‘Remember’ he whispered through gritted teeth, ‘let them get as close as you can. Until it’s impossible to miss. Then it’s all down to Harry.’
Looking up, Ben peered over the heads of the approaching soldiers and into the driver’s cab. The driver was leaning forward and wiping the inside of his windscreen to get a better view. If things didn’t go as planned, he might be their biggest problem...
When they had closed to within eight feet the soldiers paused. ‘Rutherford? Is that you?’ asked one of them, stepping just ahead of the other. His accent, like the soldiers encountered back at the house, was unquestionably British but with a hint of something else. ‘Rutherford?’ the man asked again.
Beneath his mask, Ben began to breathe even harder. He nodded but then lifted his collar and pointed to his throat, making a gesture to indicate that there was something wrong with his voice. It was a crude diversion but it was enough to make the two soldiers slowly lower their weapons. At the same time, the driver of the bus opened his door and stepped down from the cab. Ben noted immediately that he was unarmed.
This was the moment he had been waiting for.
‘Now!’ he yelled, raising and firing his rifle with Chris just a split-second behind him. Ashley covered his face with his hands and fell flat to the ground as a barrage of gunfire exploded over him, ripping into the two soldiers before they could react. Bullets bounced off their masks but zipped into their arms and chests, making their bodies spasm. Even as they fell so too did Chris, dumped on his backside by his rifle’s powerful recoil, several shots disappearing into the sky before he was able to release his trigger finger. Distracted by him, Ben stopped firing too and at that exact moment the stunned driver ducked behind his doo
r and dived back into the cab. Screams and shouts echoed from frantic passengers on the main body of the bus as he reached out to pull the door to.
But the door wouldn’t move.
Holding it from the other side was a huge bearded man, his teeth bared in rage. With a snarl he wrenched the door fully open and lunged inside, grabbing the driver by his arm and hauling him out of his seat. Before the soldier could react he was sent flying through the air to land hard on the debris covered road.
‘We did it!’ cried Ashley, scrambling to his feet and immediately looking around for one of the dropped weapons.
Otherwise occupied, Harry Skinner wasted no time in swinging a series of hefty kicks into the midriff of the fallen soldier. Two ribs gave way and the masked man cried out in agony as blood streamed into his lungs, turning his scream into a strained gurgle. Rolling over three times, his body convulsed and then stopped moving altogether. Still consumed with bloodlust, Harry wheeled toward the side of the bus where panicked faces were gathered at every window. Just at that moment Ashley appeared beside him, rifle in hand.
‘Let me talk to them! I know these people!’
Harry grunted, backing away while Ashley moved in front of him. Paige Ryder, fighting for a space at the window, immediately recognised the Scotsman.
‘Ash? Oh my God, is that you? Ash!’
‘Paige!’
The girl spun away from the glass and pushed her way toward the exit. Some people tried to step in her way but she ducked past them and found the double doors. She had watched the soldier closely before and now copied his lever and button combination to operate the shutters. With a hiss they opened up and she dropped down into the Scotsman’s arms.
‘Ash! What the hell’s going on?’
Ashley Layton’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes welled as he looked into hers and then peered over her head at the panicked faces gathered in the open doorway. The enormity of what he was about to say began to weigh down. Some of these people’s friends and relatives had left on earlier buses and he was going to have to tell them that they had been murdered. Just at that moment Ben came rushing up, goggles and mask dangling in his hand.
