Twenty-Five Percent (Book 2): Downfall

by Nerys Wheatley

  “Pull,” he wheezed.

  “Do you realise how heavy you are?” Micah wheezed back, leaning away from the edge and putting his weight into hauling him up.

  Alex inched forward, pulling and kicking, and finally got his legs free, swivelling them sideways onto the top of the shelf. He lay on his stomach for a few seconds, taking deep breaths.

  Micah sat back. “That was amazing, like watching an eagle soaring gracefully through the air...”

  “Oh, shut up. And for the record, my weight is due to the extra density of my Survivor’s muscles.”

  “If you say so.”

  Alex rolled over and sat up, looking around him. The eaters were already filling the next aisle along. With him and Micah together now, all the eaters gathered around them, crowding against the shelves. They both stood, trying to keep away from the reaching hands. The shelving unit shuddered under the force of the eaters trying to get to them and they grabbed onto each other for balance.

  “What are we going to do now?” Alex said.

  “Make a run for it?”

  The doors to the warehouse at the back of the store were some distance away and a good ten feet back from the end of the aisles. As Alex looked at them, one of the doors cracked open, Sam’s face peering through the gap. His gaze settled on them for a moment then the door closed. Maybe he was realising his hero wasn’t so heroic after all. Alex didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. Despite not wanting the responsibility of being the object of Sam’s awe, it didn’t feel so great to lose it.

  Micah pointed towards the front of the store. “If we go that way, we may be able to come up an aisle further along before the eaters get...”

  The warehouse doors crashed open.

  They watched in astonishment as Sam, screaming at the top of his lungs, ran into the store, shoving a tall, metal cage container ahead of him. The rolling cage crashed into the eaters, forcing them back, and Sam yanked it over onto its side at the base of the shelves to keep the space clear.

  “Come on,” he yelled.

  Alex and Micah scrambled to where the eaters were trying unsuccessfully to walk through the cage and used it as a stepping stone to the floor beyond. They ran after Sam to the warehouse doors and slammed them shut, sliding the bolts on both doors into place. Eaters thudded into them moments later. They rattled, but held.

  Micah laughed, raising his palm for Sam to high five. “Thanks, Sam,” he said. “We were kind of stuck there.”

  Alex patted the young man on the shoulder. “That’s twice today you’ve got us out of sticky situations. I think that definitely makes you a hero too.”

  Sam blushed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You think so?”

  A scream sounded from the far end of the warehouse.

  “Chloe,” Micah choked, breaking into a run.

  Alex caught up with him at the loading bay doors and they burst into the sunshine together, Sam following close behind. Chloe was behind a small waste container to their left, keeping it between her and the eater trying to get to her. The old woman was tiny, but it was gaining ground as it pushed the rolling metal bin against the girl, craning its neck forward, its teeth snapping at her face.

  Alex threw himself towards them, grabbing the eater and spinning it away. Micah ran to Chloe, standing in front of her.

  Regaining its balance, the eater lunged towards Alex. He shoved his foot into its gut, feeling slightly guilty at kicking the old lady. She had to be at least eighty. Although she also had superhuman strength and was trying to eat him and his friends.

  The eater flew away from him, landing on its back ten feet away, and he ran forward to dispatch it before it could rise.

  The danger gone, Micah turned towards Chloe and she threw herself into his arms with a whimper.

  “Are you alright?” he said to her. “It didn’t...?”

  “No, I’m okay,” she said, tightening her hold on him.

  He stroked her hair, closing his eyes in relief. “It’s alright, you’re safe.”

  She nodded into his chest.

  Alex lowered the door to the warehouse in case the eaters got through and they circled back around to the front of the building. There were three eaters left outside who hadn’t made it into the store before Micah locked the doors. They were pressed up against the window, scrabbling pathetically at the glass in an effort to rejoin their horde. Alex took care of them before following Micah, Sam and Chloe across the square.

  Picking up the carrier bags filled with chocolate and cake they’d left on one of the tables outside The Bell and Frog, they carried them to the church.

  A sign at the front was headed ‘Bethel Evangelical Church’. The windows were stained glass and set high up on the walls, impossible to see through from either side. Micah stepped up to the arched double doors at the front and used the old iron knocker. Sam flinched at the three sharp thuds echoing across the square and looked around.

  Alex heard a door opening somewhere towards the back of the building. A voice called, “Hello?”

  They walked around to the left side of the church where a man stood at an open door in a modern extension, looking around nervously.

  “It’s alright,” Alex said as they approached, “they’re gone.”

  The man breathed out and closed his eyes briefly. “Thank you, Lord.” He opened them again and smiled, stepping back to let them in. “We couldn’t see much from back here. Was that you who led the eaters away?”

  “That was us,” Micah said.

  He smiled and held out his hand, shaking with each of them in turn. “I’m Ryan Nicholls, the pastor here, and I can’t thank you enough. You’re a real answer to prayer, I can tell you that. Is it safe out there now?”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Alex said, “but the horde you had surrounding you is gone.”

  “At least we can get out,” Ryan said. “We haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday. To tell you the truth, I was considering going out and trying to lead them away myself. But I’m beyond glad I don’t have to.”

  Ryan looked to be somewhere in his early forties, with slightly thinning brown hair. The tiny wrinkles around his grey eyes suggested he laughed a lot.

  “Honey?” A pretty blonde woman in a wheelchair came through a set of double doors behind the pastor and rolled up to them.

  Ryan smiled down at her. “This is my wife, Angela. Ang, these are the people who led the eaters away.”

  “Micah, Alex, Chloe, Sam,” Micah said, pointing to each of them.

  She smiled. “Thank you so much. You saved our lives.”

  “And I think we can help a little with your food situation,” Alex said, indicating the carrier bags they’d placed on the floor.

  Angela picked one up, her eyes widening when she looked inside. “I could kiss you,” she said, smiling up at Alex.

  Ryan was looking over her shoulder into the bag. “So could I.”

  “How long have you been trapped here?” Micah said. Chloe was still holding onto him and he had one arm wrapped around her.

  “Three days,” Ryan said. “Thank goodness we’d been collecting for the food bank or we’d be a lot hungrier and somewhat thinner by now.” He smiled and patted his stomach.

  “Well, if you’re going to go looking for food,” Micah said, “don’t go to the Co-op.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s where we put all the eaters.”

  Ryan’s eyebrows raised. “Really?”

  “It was there or the pub,” Alex said.

  Ryan put one hand over his heart in exaggerated relief. “Oh, well thank goodness you didn’t choose the pub. Where would we have gone for a pint?” He grinned then glanced behind him to the doors. “Don’t tell anyone I said that. Some of the older ladies might not approve.”

  “Have you got a lot of people here?” Alex said.

  “About seventy, more or less,” Angela said. “We were here when the first eaters arrived. People had been scared since they brok
e out of Sarcester so Ryan was here in case anyone needed help. They began coming to the church for sanctuary and, of course, we couldn’t turn them away. Then the big horde came.” Her smile disappeared. “Not many people came after that.” She peered at Chloe, tilting her head to one side. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

  Chloe nodded. “Last Christmas, when I was with my nan and granddad.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Have you seen them? They’re not at home.”

  Angela smiled. “Come with me.”

  Chloe followed Angela back through the doors, keeping hold of Micah’s hand.

  They entered a large hall where men, women and children were gathered. Chairs and tables had been formed into makeshift beds. At one end, a group of young children sat around a table, crayons clutched in their hands and paper scattered around them. A few older children played football in a corner.

  Chloe gasped, let go of Micah’s hand and ran across the room towards an older couple sitting at a table. The couple stood and she flew into their arms.

  Alex breathed a sigh of relief.

  “What about her parents?” Angela said, watching them.

  Micah wiped a hand across his eyes and cleared his throat. “They didn’t make it.”

  “Oh, no,” Ryan said, staring at the family as they cried and hugged each other. “Poor Ruth and Steve.”

  “Oh, no!” A man with greying hair and a scowl strode across the room towards them, three other men on his heels. “Oh, hell no!”

  Around the room, people looked up at the sound of shouting.

  “We’ve put up with the girl,” the man snarled, coming to a halt a few feet from them, “we’re not having any more here.” He jabbed one finger towards the door while glaring at Alex. “You can just get out, and take your white-eye loving friends with you.”

  Ryan stepped in front of Alex. “Sid, we’ve had this conversation already. Everyone is welcome here. If you have any objections, you are welcome to leave.”

  Sid shifted his glare to the pastor. “So you’d throw us to the eaters while that abomination stays?”

  “The eaters are gone,” Ryan said. “These gentlemen led them away. They saved us.”

  “I don’t care if they found the cure for cancer. They aren’t wanted here.” Sid stepped forward. His lackeys followed him, spreading out to either side.

  Alex pushed Sam back behind him and waved his hand at Angela to move away. She looked at her husband, worry on her face, but wheeled herself backwards. Micah moved to stand beside Alex.

  “Only you and your friends feel that way,” Ryan said, his voice firm. “This is God’s house and we welcome all just as He would. What we don’t welcome is prejudice and hatred.”

  Alex had to hand it to him, for a man who looked like he wouldn’t be able to bench press ten pounds, Ryan had guts. Or maybe he simply didn’t see the danger he and Micah did.

  Sid turned away as if to leave and Alex saw his hand ball into a fist. He shoved Ryan aside with his left hand, deflecting Sid’s fist with his right. Ryan sprawled onto the wooden floor and Alex grimaced. He hadn’t intended to push him so hard.

  One of the men with Sid lunged towards Alex, doubling over with a grunt as Micah’s foot connected with his gut. A punch to the side of his head sent him tumbling to the floor.

  Sid shuffled back, his right fist raised. Alex almost laughed. He was really going to go up against a Survivor unarmed?

  Sid’s left hand pulled a short knife from beneath his jacket.

  Oh.

  One of the two men still standing darted around to Alex’s other side. Alex considered going for his gun, but he didn’t want to risk anyone getting shot. The third man faced Micah. Alex was pretty sure he saw Micah smile. Apparently he regarded opponents who didn’t just mindlessly try to eat him as an enjoyable change of pace.

  Sid lunged forward with the knife. Alex rotated out of the way, grabbed his wrist and twisted and Sid cried out as the blade clattered to the floor.

  Pain exploded in Alex’s kidney. Or his liver. One of those organs you found lurking in pies. He spun to face the man who had punched him and threw a left hook into his jaw. The man crashed to the floor, but remained conscious. Alex frowned. It must have been the pain that had taken the edge off his punch. The right side of his back was throbbing.

  Micah was dodging blows from his opponent, bobbing, weaving, and landing the occasional punch or kick here and there.

  “Will you stop faffing around with him and help me?” Alex said.

  Micah let out an exaggerated sigh and straightened, apparently leaving himself unguarded. His opponent lunged. Micah stepped to one side and stuck his foot out. The man tripped over it and sprawled across the floor.

  Sid chose that moment to rush at Alex, lowering his head and barrelling into Alex’s stomach. The breath exploded from Alex’s lungs as they hit the floor in a tangle of limbs. His back screamed in agony.

  Alex felt his jacket pushed back and a tug on his holster. He made a grab for Sid’s hand as he pulled the pistol free and it flew out of his grip, spinning across the floor. Sid rolled off Alex, much to his back’s relief, and grabbed the knife from the floor.

  He raised it to strike.

  “Stop or I’ll shoot!”

  Everyone looked in Ryan’s direction. He was standing with Alex’s gun in his hand, the barrel that was aimed more or less at Sid trembling slightly. Ignoring the pain in his back, Alex scrambled away from him. If Ryan did decide to pull the trigger, it didn’t look like his accuracy would be too precise.

  Sid got to his feet. “You’re a vicar, you can’t shoot us.”

  “I’m a pastor, not a vicar. And I can’t kill you. Shooting to maim, however, is a grey area.”

  Sid scoffed. “You don’t know how to use that thing.”

  “This is a Glock 17 semi-automatic nine millimetre pistol with a twenty-three round clip. And to use it, I just point and pull the trigger. Now put down the knife.”

  Sid’s expression of confidence slipped slightly. His gaze moved between the pastor and Alex. After a few seconds, he backed away and dropped the knife.

  Alex went to remove his gun from Ryan’s slightly trembling hand before he dropped it.

  “How’d you know all that?” he said.

  Ryan gave him a shaky smile. “The name and nine millimetre’s written on the side. The rest I kind of guessed. Was I right?”

  “About everything except the clip, which is actually a magazine. A clip is something different. And the magazine holds nineteen rounds, for future reference.”

  “Good to know,” Ryan said, smiling. He turned to face Sid and the other three men who were clustered behind him. “I think it would be better if the four of you left.”

  “I don’t want to stay around two white-eyes anyway,” Sid spat. He turned and walked out.

  Two of the men followed him. The third, the one Micah had tripped, glanced uncertainly at a group of women across the hall. A blonde stalked over to him.

  “What was that?” she said, crossing her arms.

  “I... Sid...”

  “Sid’s a moron, you know that.”

  “Yes, but...”

  “It’s not like this time you can even say you were drunk.” She looked at Ryan. “I’m so sorry about this, Pastor Nicholls. Fred will pay for the damage.”

  “Um, there isn’t any damage.”

  “He’ll still pay. Won’t you, Fred?”

  Fred managed to look contrite. “Yeah. Sorry, Pastor.”

  They headed for the door, Fred’s wife continuing to chastise him as they left. Alex couldn’t help noticing that no-one had apologised to him, but there was nothing surprising about that. He secured the gun back in its holster and rubbed his back.

  “Are you all alright?” Angela said rolling up to them, her face filled with concern. She took Ryan’s hand.

  “I’m fine,” Micah said.

  “Nothing I’m not getting used to,” Alex said. “And sorry about pushing you so hard, Pasto
r Nicholls. Sometimes my strength gets away from me.”

  “It’s Ryan, please. And there’s nothing to be sorry for. You led those eaters away and this is how you’re repaid? It’s us who owe you an apology. I’m sorry.” He moved in close to Alex and lowered his voice. “Um, should I ask why you have a gun?”

  Alex smiled. “I’m police. At least I was, before this all began.”

  Ryan breathed out. “Oh. That’s a relief. Okay.” He gave a small laugh.

  “What did Sid mean about another Survivor?” Sam said.

  “I was going to ask you about that,” Angela said to Alex. She nodded to a girl sitting alone at a table in one corner. “We don’t know her. All she’s told us since she arrived three days ago is her name. I’ve tried talking to her, but she’s scared. I wondered if you could talk to her? She might be more open with another Survivor.”

  Alex estimated the girl to be around Sam’s age. Her shoulder length, dark blonde hair was covered by a baseball cap and she was reading a book on the table in front of her, although she kept darting glances in their direction.

  “Of course I...” He stopped as Sam left their little group and walked towards her.

  “May I sit here?” he said, indicating a seat nearby.

  The girl looked up at him, revealing eyes that were brown despite Angela having said she was a Survivor. “You won’t be very popular with everyone else if you do.”

  He sat down. “Then I’ll have to take a break from being wildly popular,” he said, smiling. “My name’s Sam.”

  A hint of a smile flickered on the girl’s face. “I’m Claire.”

  Sam shrugged off his backpack and unzipped the top, rummaging for a couple of seconds before pulling out a Turkish Delight. “Are you hungry?”

  She stared at the chocolate bar for a moment before frowning and tilting her head forward, extracting a contact lens from her right eye to reveal the colourless iris beneath.

  “Are you sure you want to share with me?” she said, a bitter tinge to her voice.

  “You have such pretty eyes,” Sam said, a dreamy expression on his face. “May I see the other one?”

  Claire stared at him in shock. She opened her mouth then closed it again. After a few seconds, she removed the lens from her left eye and looked shyly at him.