“It’s worked up to now.”
“Hello?” Micah tapped himself on the chest. “Bitten and almost died.”
“That’s the spirit,” Alex said, smiling. “Focus on that almost.”
They kept low, listening for any sign the horde had noticed them as they inched their way to the woman’s car. As they reached it, her face reappeared at the window. Alex motioned for her to unlock the doors and she nodded and pressed a button between the front seats. The click of the central locking mechanism sounded like a crack of thunder in the relative silence.
Alex froze. The woman whipped her head around to look out the front window towards the horde before disappearing from view. For at least a minute, no-one moved. Alex slowly rose up enough to see past the cars separating them from the dining eaters. If any of them had heard the doors unlocking, there was no indication. They were still engrossed in feeding. The chewing and slurping of a thousand dining eaters coupled with a close-up view of what they were eating threatened to bring Alex’s sausage and egg breakfast back into the light of day. He quickly ducked down again.
Pointing at Micah, he aimed two fingers at his own eyes and flicked them back and forth a couple of times in the direction of the horde. Micah nodded and sat up high enough to watch the eaters.
Alex took hold of the handle of the passenger side door and slowly pulled it outwards. The latch disengaged with an audible click and he looked up at Micah. Micah shook his head.
Splitting his attention between the car and Micah, Alex pulled on the door. It opened with a soft creak.
Micah raised his hand. Alex froze. For several long seconds he listened to his heart drumming in his ears before Micah lowered his hand again. He resumed opening the door.
The smell and heat that puffed from the car almost made Alex gag. The revulsion must have shown on his face because the woman gave him a small, apologetic smile. He shook his head and smiled back. If he’d spent days trapped in a car, it would probably have smelled much worse.
He helped her out and she knelt on the ground, taking in a few deep breaths of the fresh air. He tried not to show it, but the stench from the car was making him feel nauseous.
“No no no,” Micah whispered.
Alex looked up at him. Suddenly, Micah dropped back down.
“Go,” he hissed, waving at them frantically.
Alex pushed to his feet, keeping in a low crouch, and took hold of the now even more terrified woman’s hand. She climbed to her feet unsteadily, grimacing, and followed Alex as he pulled her away from the car.
They hadn’t gone more than ten feet before Alex heard scrabbling footsteps and moans from behind them. He glanced back to see the first eaters appear beyond the woman’s car, clustering towards it. Attracted by the smell, he realised. Not that it mattered what had drawn them in the first place. Now the eaters were there, Alex, Micah and the woman would be seen.
Within seconds, the air was filled with the moans of hundreds of excited eaters. Alex straightened. No point in trying to stay hidden now.
They aimed for the bikes as fast as they could, but days in her car had taken its toll on the woman’s muscles and she stumbled almost immediately. Alex grabbed her before she fell.
The eaters were doing their best to follow through the cars, but they were slowed by the obstacle course around them. On the edge of the pileup, however, they had no such trouble. Where the motorbikes hadn’t been able to go, the eaters were swarming up the bank, faster than Alex would have liked. Some also began to lumber towards them from the side.
The woman stumbled again, slowing them further. Alex muttered a quick apology and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She stiffened, but didn’t protest.
Passing the tank, Alex wondered how difficult it would be to drive, if it came to that. He hoped it didn’t come to that.
By the time they reached the bikes and Alex put the woman down, the eaters making their way around the edge of the pileup were wending their way through the cars, heading towards them.
Alex handed his helmet to the woman and climbed onto his bike. “Hold on tight,” he said to her as she donned the helmet and climbed on behind him.
“What to?” They were the first words she’d spoken.
He looked back and tried for an encouraging smile. “Me.”
She wrapped her arms tentatively around his chest as he turned the key and flipped the start switch, tightening her grip when the bike started to move. Micah led the way, swerving around the cab of the lorry as the first couple of eaters broke from the surrounding cars. One made a grab for him, but missed. The woman whimpered. Alex kicked at it as they passed, shoving it out of the way so it wouldn’t get near her. Her grip tightened even more.
Micah swerved in and out of the cars at speed like he’d been riding for years instead of days. Alex had to follow more slowly, concerned he might take a corner too fast and the woman would fly from the back. Although by this time she was clamped to him so tight he was having trouble breathing. He let go of the handlebar with one hand, slid her hands down to his waist, and gulped in a breath.
Ahead of them, Micah came to a stop at the place where they couldn’t get past the crashed cars and leaped from his bike.
“You lift, I’ll stab,” he said, pulling on his gloves.
He darted back past them to where the eaters were bottle-necked into a space between a Land Rover and a Smart car. Stabbing his skull-spiker into the forehead of the first eater to come through, he planted a heavy kick into its chest, shoving it at the eater behind. Both of them fell, temporarily blocking the path for the others.
“I need to lift the bikes over the car,” Alex said to the woman.
The helmet on her head bobbed up and down and she climbed from the bike. Alex noticed her hands were shaking, but she didn’t make a sound.
It took Alex over a minute to get both bikes and the woman to the other side of the impacted cars while Micah held off the onslaught.
“Ready,” he called when he was done.
Micah took down one more eater then ran, leaping when he reached the cars and sliding across a bonnet. Behind him, the eaters poured through the gap he’d been defending and slammed into the cars, reaching for their prey.
Micah again took the lead as they zigzagged through the cars. Alex kept darting nervous glances at the eaters. Having to stop to get the bikes over the cars had given the eaters circling the edge of the pileup time to overtake them. They were already lurching into the gaps between the crashed cars ahead of them, closing in on their only way out.
Alex watched in horror as their escape route disappeared.
It was too late. They were trapped.
As they approached the ravenous eaters, Alex expected Micah to slow. Instead, he sped up, careering towards the wall of grasping hands and gnashing teeth.
He let out a roar as the front wheel of his bike hit the horde. Eaters flew into the air and his bike swayed violently. For one heart-stopping moment, it looked as if he might fall. Then he regained his balance and his bike shot away.
Alex leaned forward, squeezed the throttle, and raced at the gap through the crowd Micah had left. Too late, he saw an eater sprawled on the ground directly in their path. It was already trying to sit up when the bike hit it at full speed.
“Oh, shiii....”
The eater’s torso became an impromptu ramp as the bike bucked into the air. Alex panicked as he felt both wheels leave the ground.
The back wheel hit the asphalt, followed by the front. The bike wobbled for a couple of seconds then stabilised and sped away from the horde.
Alex gasped in a breath. They were alive, they were upright, and they were mobile. A rush of adrenalin and relief hit him and he screamed an exuberant, “Woooo!” He would have punched his hands into the air, but he was afraid to let go of the handlebars.
The woman clamped to his back whimpered.
“It’s okay,” he said, prying one hand from the handle briefly to pat her hand. “We’re okay.”
Micah had slowed for them to catch up and Alex cast a final look back at the bridge before they rounded a curve in the road and it disappeared from view.
Sheffield was looking farther and farther away. But at least they were alive.
6
They returned to the last exit they’d passed, driving the wrong way up the slip road, and joined a smaller road that headed more or less in the direction of the river. After a couple of miles they pulled into a small car park with a picnic area and a few wooden tables and benches.
After dismounting unsteadily, the woman pulled the helmet off and handed it to Alex. Her pale face was streaked with tears and her hands were trembling. She looked like she would drop at any moment.
“Would you like to sit down?” Alex said, hovering next to her in case she keeled over.
She nodded and sank onto a bench. Alex glanced at Micah, unsure what to do.
“Do you have any water?” she said.
Alex exhaled in relief. This he could do. “Water. Yes.”
She took the bottle of water he gave her and drank the whole thing, letting out a long sigh afterwards. “Thank you. I had some in the car, but I had to ration it. I haven’t had any for two days.”
Micah pulled a sandwich from his pack and handed it to her.
Alex sat next to her as she ate. “How long were you in there?”
“Four days,” she said, chewing. “I could really use a long, hot bubble bath. I thought they’d lose interest and go, but they just kept dragging more bodies from the cars they could get into and eating.” She shuddered. “There was another man, trapped like me. I could see his car from mine. We developed a kind of sign language so we could talk, but yesterday he said he was going to run. I told him not to, but he couldn’t take it anymore.” She stopped chewing for a moment. “He didn’t make it.”
From the way she squared her shoulders and carried on eating, Alex knew she was stronger than he had at first thought. It made him feel better about her chances.
“I’m Alex,” he said, “and this is Micah.”
She smiled. “I’m Jean. Thank you for getting me out. You could have just walked away.”
“No, we couldn’t,” Micah said. “We have a habit of doing heroic stuff. It’s a real pain in the arse.”
Jean stopped eating, looked up at him, and did something completely unexpected. She laughed. “You’re certainly my heroes.”
“Where were you going?” Micah said. “We’re heading for Sheffield, but we can drop you off.”
Alex didn’t say anything. He wanted to help her, and they couldn’t just leave her, but now they had to find somewhere else to cross the river which was going to add more time to their journey.
“I live a little up the river, on the other side,” she said, waving one hand in the general direction.
“We have to get across too,” Alex said. “But not being able to use the bridge, it’s going to take us a while.”
“Maybe we could find a boat at the marina,” she said.
“Marina?”
“There’s one just along from where this road meets the river. My ex-husband has a boat there, we could take his. He loves that thing, spent more time with it than me when we were married.” Her mouth curled into a wicked smile. “He’d be devastated to see it gone.”
. . .
It only took ten minutes to reach the small marina.
Alex had moved to Sarcester from Edinburgh to attend university. He hadn’t been too concerned about where he went other than it was somewhere far from where he grew up. Not that he disliked Edinburgh, but he’d been nineteen and had itchy feet and not too much sense, as was evidenced by the way he chose where he would get his education. He’d stuck a map on its side to his bedroom wall, put on a blindfold, got a friend to spin him round several times until he was dizzy but facing in the right direction, then stuck in a pin. It had actually hit somewhere out in the countryside, but Sarcester had been the closest university.
After he graduated, he decided to stay. It might have been because he liked the place. It might also have been because of Milly Parkinson, who he’d been madly in love with for half of his final year. But another year later he and Milly were over, yet he still stayed. The city had grown on him.
So he had driven over the river hundreds, if not thousands of times in the time he’d lived there, but he’d never had a clue about the marina. It made him wonder what else was out there.
The gate onto the site was closed and locked, but it wasn’t a very strong lock and Alex broke it easily. They drove through the car park and down to the water’s edge.
“Darn it,” Jean said as they came to a stop at the head of one of the docks along which the boats were moored. “It’s not there.” She pointed to an empty space a little way along the pier. “The bastard must have come and got it while I was stuck in that car, waiting to die. I bet he didn’t even try to find out if I was alright.”
“Maybe we could take another one,” Alex said, looking around at the selection of vessels, which ranged from glorified rowing boats to small luxury craft that probably cost more than he made in a year. “Micah could hotwire one.”
Micah pulled off his helmet and glared at him. “One time, I mentioned it. One time and you just can’t let it go.”
“They keep spare sets of keys for all the boats in the office,” Jean said, pointing at a long, single storey building set back from the water with a sign saying ‘The Wild Goose’ over a set of glass double doors at one end and a single door with a sign saying ‘Office’ at the other.
“Okay,” Alex said, slightly surprised this was going to be so easy, “let’s pick a boat.”
They wandered along the dock, searching for something suitable.
Many of them didn’t have enough deck space for the motorcycles and after ascertaining that none of them knew how to actually pilot a boat, Alex was reluctant to go for anything that looked too sporty and fast. He also avoided anything with a mast since he had not the first idea about what to do with one. Finally, near the end of the dock, they found a medium sized blue and white boat that looked like they might be able to handle it. It was a little shabby, but looked solid, with a cabin in the centre and the words ‘Sea Holly’ painted on the side.
Alex stepped over the small gap between the boat and the wooden pier, stopping when he reached the deck and the boat shifted under him. He hadn’t been on a boat for years and the movement was disconcerting. Micah jumped on beside him and looked at the deck.
“You think it will take the weight of the bikes?”
“I don’t think...”
“Get off my boat or I’ll put this harpoon through both your chests!”
Alex looked around for the source of the voice. It sounded like it had come from the cabin, but there was nothing to see.
“Hello?” Micah called.
“You and your white-eyed friend can leave right now or I’ll turn you both into a kebab.”
And so it began. Alex rolled his eyes. Jean hadn’t mentioned him being a Survivor even once.
“We need to get across the river,” Micah shouted. “We could use some help.”
“He’s threatening to harpoon us,” Alex said quietly. “There are plenty of other boats.”
“Yeah, but I thought we might have a better chance of making it across without drowning or getting swept out to sea if we have someone who knows what they’re doing at the wheel.”
“I think it’s called a helm.”
“And that is exactly why we need help.”
“Go away,” the voice yelled. “If you want help, call the police.”
“I am the police,” Alex shouted back.
“I don’t care. Sod off.”
“I don’t think he has a harpoon,” Micah said. “First, what would he have a harpoon for this far from the sea, and second, if he does, why is he hiding?”
“Do you want to test that theory?”
A flicker of
doubt crossed Micah’s face. “Well...”
“Excuse me? Sir?”
Both of them looked round at the sound of Jean’s voice. She was still standing on the dock, waving in the direction of the cabin.
“I know this is an imposition, especially under the circumstances, but if you could see your way to helping us I would be terribly grateful.” She smiled.
Alex and Micah’s gazes returned to the cabin.
“Um...” The unseen man paused. “None of you is infected?”
“Oh, no,” she said, “most definitely not.”
There was another pause. “Well, alright then. For you.”
“You’re so kind,” Jean said with another smile.
“Why can’t we do that?” Alex muttered.
“Because we are burdened with Y-chromosomes,” Micah replied.
Alex helped Jean onto the boat as a man stepped from the cabin. He was in his fifties or early sixties, his greying hair cropped short and a few days of white stubble on his face. His hands were empty.
“I thought you had a harpoon,” Micah said.
“I thought you wanted to steal my boat,” he shot back.
Alex waved a hand at the boats surrounding them. “Why would we pick yours?”
The man glowered at him. “Are you saying my boat’s not worth stealing?”
Alex paused, at a loss as he realised there was no good answer to that question. Thankfully, Jean came to his rescue.
Walking over to the man, she held out her hand. “This is so kind of you. I’m Jean and this is Alex and Micah.”
The man took her hand, not even glancing at Alex and Micah. “Everett Johnson.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Johnson.”
Something approaching a smile cracked his face. “Please, call me Everett.”
Alex and Micah glanced at each other. Micah did an eyebrow shrug.
“Well,” Alex said loudly, “we’ll go and get our bikes.”
Everett looked at them sharply. “Your what?”
Alex nodded in the direction of the bikes parked back on land.
Everett’s eyes widened. “You can’t bring...”
Twenty-Five Percent (Book 2): Downfall Page 5
