Monsterland (An Apocalyptic Horror)

by Shaun Whittington

  Joan, Sue and Gordon glared at one another in horror at what they had just seen.

  Lloyd Dickinson looked at their faces and snickered, "Anyone up for another cup of tea? Or would you prefer something stronger?"

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Lloyd placed four glasses on the table and poured red wine into all four. "Obviously there's more where that came from. But I wouldn't really advise on getting too drunk with the precarious position we're all in, man."

  "I'm not too sure I'm comfortable with this." Sue shook and seemed on edge.

  "Don't worry your arse about it, girl." It seemed that Lloyd knew why she was so on edge. "We're on the first floor. The pub's on the ground floor, and they need to get through the ground floor doors first to get in. Even if they do, it'll give us time to hit the attic."

  "Is that where you sleep?"

  Lloyd nodded. "Me and Junior sleep there now. Apart from flushing the toilet, we make sure we don't make any noise. The lights now never go on, apart from the odd lamp, and the curtains are always closed."

  Sue picked up her glass of red, took a sip, then suddenly broke down.

  Lloyd flashed Gordon a look whilst Joan went to comfort Sue. Lloyd told them to use the spare room if they wanted, and they both left the men on their own.

  "She lost her son not long ago." Gordon tried to explain to Lloyd.

  "Oh well," Lloyd cackled. "More wine for us."

  Gordon was taken aback by his attitude, but didn't want to verbally attack him for his comment as he was putting them up for the night. Maybe this is what he's like. Or maybe it's all an act.

  "Women," Lloyd snickered. "They like a good cry now and again, don't they?"

  Gordon remained silent and sipped his wine. Despite taking them in, Gordon was beginning to dislike this Lloyd character.

  "I couldn't believe how easy it was to kill those things," Lloyd suddenly blurted out.

  "They can die just like the rest of us," Gordon spoke up. "The owner of the last guesthouse we were in had his throat damaged by a Runner, and when he turned he then dropped to the floor straight after. I'm guessing from blood loss."

  "Well if that's the case, people who have been infected and have had severe bites must eventually bleed to death."

  "Maybe they just heal quicker than us. I don't really know."

  The men fell silent as new footage came onto the screen. They watched as mobile phone footage was showing the Runners wreaking havoc at a circus in Lichfield.

  "So what's it like living round these parts?" Gordon asked. "I mean...before all of this happened."

  "A bit boring, to be fair. There're a few guesthouses, farms and a few pubs scattered along the Pennines, as well as some residential areas. We have a quiet existence, and the tourists that stop by just about covers the mortgage. We did have a disappearance once."

  "A disappearance?"

  "About four years ago; a young girl called Jessica Hainey disappeared. Never found her."

  "That's awful."

  "It was on the main media channels for a week. It brought in some business though."

  "Jessica Hainey." Gordon nodded in thought. "I think I remember that."

  "Man, she was only fourteen." Lloyd finished off his glass and grabbed another bottle from the kitchen, returned to the living room and unscrewed the cap. His big hand wrapped around the middle of the bottle. He poured himself another glass and without asking Gordon, topped him up.

  Gordon remarked, with his tongue firmly in his cheek, "I thought you said not to get too drunk."

  "Man, it takes three bottles to get me drunk on red wine."

  Lloyd looked over his shoulder and said quietly, "A few months ago, around Easter time, a couple of middle aged women from France stayed the night in the guest room. They got pissed and, fuck me, what a night that was. Do you know what I mean?" Lloyd began winking at Gordon.

  "Not really." Gordon decided to play dumb.

  "While Junior was sleeping in the next room I was in mine with the French birds."

  "Playing scrabble?"

  "Yeah, very funny." Lloyd seemed to be taking Gordon's teasing well, and was pleased to have some adult male company to converse with.

  "So do you sleep with all your guests? Should I be worried?"

  "You don't need to worry. I've never been balls deep in a man before, not my thing. But I have my fair share."

  "I could imagine." Gordon took a slurp of the wine, the alcohol was loosening his lips. "I've seen the sheep on the hills."

  "Man, you're a cheeky bastard," Lloyd laughed. "I like you. Maybe we should make this stay longer, until our government sorts this mess out."

  "I doubt that's going to happen."

  "No?"

  Gordon nodded towards the television where constant footage was being showed. "At the speed they're going at, this infection is gonna spread rapid. They'll end up being more of them than there is of us."

  "What's your family situation like?" Lloyd leaned over and asked another question. "You have kids?"

  "No, thankfully." Gordon shook his head. "Neither does Joan."

  "I have a sister and a nephew in Bristol. Her name is Kate, and my nephew is called Connor. Fingers crossed they're okay. Also have a brother, but he's a twat."

  "Can't you contact them?"

  Lloyd waggled his head and seemed to have lost his cheeky attitude, which was being replaced with a more sombre look on his features. "Tried phoning her, Face-time, even tried Facebook...nothing."

  "What about your parents?"

  "Dead."

  "Same here."

  Lloyd took a gulp of wine and looked behind him, wondering what was keeping the girls.

  Gordon gulped, knowing that it could be a potential tricky subject, and said in a nervous tone, "You never mentioned Junior's mother."

  Lloyd smiled. "No I didn't."

  There was a sudden bang and both men jumped in fright. Lloyd was immediately embarrassed by this and immediately rose to his feet, picking up a crowbar by the side of him that Gordon hadn't noticed before.

  A teary Sue and Joan ran into the room and Joan predictably asked, "What the fuck was that?"

  "It's them," cried Sue. "I know it's them."

  "Calm down, girl," snapped Lloyd. "Don't get your tits in a twist. I think someone ran at the door."

  Junior then came into the room. "Dad, one of those fuckers are in the car park."

  "There you go." Lloyd used his hands to gesture everyone to calm down. "Just the one."

  Joan picked up the shotgun and said sternly, "I'll go and check it out."

  "No you fucking won't, darling." Lloyd walked over and lowered the gun that Joan was holding. "It's probably a stray. One blast of that thing and you'll get dozens of them at the door. Then we'll be in trouble."

  "I already know that," sighed Joan. "So are we just gonna sit here?"

  "No, I'll go down."

  Lloyd crept down the stairs with Gordon and Joan not far behind, looked through the spy-hole, then slowly opened the door and stepped into the fresh air. The small beast was no older than four and had its back to him. Lloyd knew this was going to be a difficult kill. The child may have been infected, but it was still human. Although it was for the safety of his son and himself that this thing should be removed, it was still committing murder. Wasn't it?

  Lloyd looked over his shoulder to see Joan and Gordon behind him. He had a small audience now, so he needed to act cool and not think too much about the fact that he was about to kill a small child.

  He cleared his throat, a noise that was loud enough to attract its attention, and saw the child turn around. It was just ten yards away, eyes bloodshot. It snarled and ran at him with vicious pace.

  Lloyd tightened his grip on his crowbar with his clammy hands and once in range he struck out, smashing the front of its head. It tumbled to the ground and never got back up again. Blood poured from the head from its little body and Lloyd could feel himself getting nauseous.

  Lloyd loo
ked at Gordon. "Help me drag it by the pond."

  Gordon said okay, and each man took an arm and walked to the back of the car park and dumped the body by the trees.

  "So this is the pond." Gordon looked out. It wasn't that big, but it was a beautiful setting with the hills behind it. He could see a cabin on the tiny island that was in the middle.

  Lloyd chuckled, noticing that Gordon was staring at the cabin. "And that's where that old bastard stays."

  "I think we better get inside."

  Lloyd nodded and wiped the bloody crowbar on the grass. He and Gordon made the small journey back to the main door of the pub, where the door was wide open with Joan standing by it. Gordon was the first to enter the establishment, but Lloyd's entry was put on hold when he turned to the side and threw up. After he spat the last bits of puke from inside of his mouth, he looked at Joan, who was looking at him, and said, "Must have been something I ate."

  She never responded. She shut the door once he was in, locked and bolted it.

  All three went upstairs to the living area and was in shock after seeing the demise of the little boy.

  When was this going to end?

  After the episode of destroying the little boy, they had began to calm down thanks to two more bottles of wine that had been opened. It had been getting on for midnight when Lloyd announced that they should all retire to the attic. Finally dragging Junior off of his Xbox, the five of them went through a door, which Lloyd locked afterwards, and trudged up some stairs to the attic.

  "We stay here for the night," Lloyd slurred, obviously from too much wine from before.

  Joan could see a couch in the corner and a double bed at the other side of the room. It was an attic, but it was just like a bedroom.

  "Not bad for an attic," Sue spoke up.

  "It's actually my room, girl." Lloyd announced. "Junior sleeps in his room downstairs, usually, and the other two rooms are for guests. Haven't had any of them for nearly a week. We'd be more comfortable with a room of our own, but if these thing break in..."

  "We'd be in danger." Gordon nodded. "I understand."

  "I'd be in danger," Lloyd scoffed and ran his fingers over his hairless head. "Me and Junior. I don't give a shit about you lot, but the fact is if one of those things breaks in and comes up the stairs and takes a bite out of...Sue, for example," Lloyd pointed at Sue who was now sitting on the couch next to Joan, "then there would be two of them in my home. No! We all stay together."

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Tuesday 5th June

  Sue gasped, and sat upright.

  It was the early hours of Tuesday morning, and she took a few seconds to realise where she was. Once her brain reminded her that she was in someone else's home and Tyler was dead, she broke down in tears, stirring others. Joan was lying next to her in the double bed and placed her arm around her. Gordon had opted to take the hard floor, as Lloyd and Junior took the couch and were practically sleeping on top of one another.

  "Gonna shut up?" Lloyd cruelly snapped in the darkness.

  "She's lost her son, you cruel bugger!" Joan scolded. "Have a fucking heart!"

  "Just remember who put you up tonight."

  "And we're very thankful for it," Gordon chipped in. It appeared that everyone was now awake.

  Joan snarled, "And just remember who's got the shotgun."

  Lloyd laughed mockingly, but Joan ignored him and turned her full attention to Sue, holding her and giving her words of comfort. Joan had empathy for the woman, even more so because it was her that had to kill Tyler.

  "Dad?" Junior said.

  "Yes, son."

  "What happens if they come in?"

  Lloyd responded quickly. "They won't. As long as we remain quiet and keep the lights off..."

  "But if they did..."

  "Then we'd fight our way out," Gordon joined in on the conversation. "We could leave in the vehicles. Or we could get to the pond and swim across to that tiny island."

  "Fuck that. I won't be doing that." There was sudden panic in Junior's voice and his tone suggested that he had lost his cockiness and bravado that he had earlier on. "Dad. I don't want to go near the pond. I—"

  "It's okay, Junior." His father appeased. "It won't come to that. We won't be going anywhere near any water. Okay?"

  "Okay."

  Gordon was baffled by the conversation and the panic that had suddenly engulfed the usually-cocky youngster, but he was too tired to think about it and tiredness prevailed. It prevailed over all of them once more.

  *

  Marvin woke up with a gasp.

  What day was it? Tuesday.

  He shook with nerves, holding onto his bloodstained knife, and listened out for any more of those Runners. He couldn't hear a thing. He stood to his feet and drained his bladder, then decided that living in the bathroom was not a feasible decision, plus he was dying for a cigarette.

  He unbolted the bathroom door and peered out into his living room. It was bare, but he could feel a draught from the room that had come from the exposed living room window.

  Despite the shattered window he lit up a cigarette. He took a few drags and put his shoes on. Putting the lighter and the cigarette packet in his pocket he slowly climbed through his window, making sure the shards of glass still in the frame didn't break his skin. He then stepped out into his street and had no idea what to do next—he certainly didn't want to stay in his flat now that it was exposed and vulnerable to more attacks.

  He stood in shock and gazed at the blood on the road, the smashed car, and three Runners sprinting away from his street. An old man opened his bedroom window, clearly petrified, and urged Marvin to get back inside, but Marvin ignored the man's pleas. He then snapped out of his self-hypnosis and heard a car groan from a distance. It was heading for his street. The vehicle looked to be a black Ford, and Marvin could see that not far behind the vehicle was a group of Runners.

  "Shit." Marvin looked at the car, then back at his flat, wondering if he should go back inside.

  He shook his head at the option of returning to the flat. It wasn't going to happen. He needed to be away from this place, and away from population. He needed to be in the countryside, but had no vehicle of his own. He stepped into the road, knowing that this was a dangerous tactic, and waved down the vehicle. Thankfully, it came to a stop once it was getting near, and Marvin could see that it was a woman on her own. He put the knife into his pocket and yelled, "I need help!"

  The woman wound down the window and popped her head out. She was blonde, very pretty, and Marvin walked towards her whilst she spoke. "If you wanna get in, then get in!" she exclaimed. "They're behind me!"

  Marvin went to the driver's side and punched the woman in the nose, then took the keys out of the ignition before she had chance to drive away. Screaming out, with blood pouring down her face, Marvin then opened the door, unbuckled her seatbelt and dragged the screaming woman out of the car.

  "Why are you doing this?" she screamed. "Why are you doing this? I'm trying to help you!"

  "Sorry, love." Marvin threw her across the road, and could see that the pretty young blonde was six or seven months pregnant. "But I don't want any passengers."

  Undisturbed about the woman's condition and what he had just done to her, Marvin jumped into the black Ford and sped away, leaving her to deal with the horde of Runners that were quickly approaching. He took a quick peep in the rear-view mirror and saw the woman being ravaged by the pack of infected, then looked forwards and out into the road.

  "It's a dog-eat-dog world," he sniffed. "I ain't gonna survive this thing if I go round acting like a saint."

  He looked at the fuel gauge. Only a third full. It was better than nothing.

  He took a right at the junction, at the end of his street, and he went onto the main road and was greeted with a scene that was apocalyptic-like. Runners were everywhere along the long straight road, and smashed vehicles and broken windows of houses were present. "Fuck me!"

  Marvin slamme
d his hand off the steering wheel, then took a look in the rear-view mirror. It seemed clearer behind than it did in front of him, but he needed to drive out into the country lanes. He pressed down harder on the accelerator and could see on the speedometer that he was now doing sixty in a residential area—thirty over the limit.

  The speed of the vehicle did nothing to deter some of the Runners, that weren't already attacking others and breaking into the homes, from running at and after the car Marvin was driving. One ran at the front of the car, but was ran over and never got back up again. Others bounced off the vehicle, giving it more damage than Marvin would have liked.

  Why were they running at the car and windows? Marvin didn't understand. If these things were still human, and could die like a human, then surely they were risking breaking their necks, slashing their throats, or giving themselves brain damage. He couldn't understand it. Maybe they didn't care. Maybe they had no fear.

  He continued with his foot down on the pedal, and could see that he wasn't far from the country lanes. He had another hundred yards until he was finally out of the residential part of this area, and knew further up there'd be miles of fields and farmland. A girl came running out of her front door up ahead. Marvin didn't want this to affect his progression, so he never braked once the girl crossed the road. She turned to look at the vehicle and let out a scream before the car ploughed into her. The body was pushed twenty yards forwards which gave Marvin enough time to swerve around the motionless body.

  Shit! She screamed. She can't have been one of them. They don't scream. Do they?

  He took a gape in his rear-view mirror and saw two other bodies running out of the same door. They went past the body of the girl and began sprinting in the direction of the vehicle Marvin was driving. This gave him the indication that these were Runners. The girl screamed before she was hit, so she must have been human and was running away from the two infected beings that were now hopelessly trying to chase Marvin. This meant that Marvin had knocked down an innocent person, and the two infected probably bypassed her body because she was already dead. They only feed, albeit briefly, on the living.