by Burke, Rowan
Portsmouth was the place we had seen the coverage, and was coincidentally and providentially the closest coast for us to get to. Mark made a sensible choice to avoid the inevitable congestion of deserted cars on the M3 motorway, so we took back and country roads in attempt to reach our final destination. The first two or three road dwelling zombies had scared the shit out of us, however Mark very soon made a game on this, aiming to hit them with the car and propel them as far as he could. His anger matched his excitement with every bowled over zombie, sometimes seeming a little too happy every time he mowed one down. He bellowed a demonic laugh that at first seemed funny but very quickly become very uncomfortable indeed. Still wearing his ridiculous attire, I had somehow forgotten that he had saved our lives only earlier that day, which seemed an eternity ago now. All I could remember at this point was how much of a fucking dick I thought he was, disgustedly surveying his hoots of joy every 10 minutes or so we he ran down yet another undead road walker.
No-one had spoken for a while, perhaps half an hour or so as we trundled across the derelict country lanes. We all peered longingly out the window across the golden fields of Hampshire. The wind gently caressed the tips of the crops as the danced in unison across the plains, bouncing off beams of sunlight as the rays shone down from the blue sky souring above us. There was a definitive calmness disguising the anxiety of what next awaited us, whatever fates sat however many miles ahead on our journey.
Trying the radio was purposeless as the stations were all out, and the car wasn’t new enough to have DAB radio so we remained with only the outside wind and turning over of the engine to keep us audibly stimulated. I guess everyone was taking a moment to reflect on what had happened, maybe who they had lost or who they were hoping to find; Although I knew Mark, I didn’t know who his family or partner or friends were, and knew nothing about Kate and Tina. Everyone seemed deep in thought, pondering their battles in both victory and defeat. We were all here, sure, but we had all seen people fall victim to this invasion, to this plague, who if things had gone differently we may had been able to save, and that mind set was in no way an easy one to shake. I thought back to Stacey and Carl whom I hoped had found each other in whatever afterlife they believed in. I imagined them smiling, holding one another in their original forms, no longer beleaguered with the terror and torment they were subjected to before their ultimate demise. As I smiled to myself with that thought of bittersweet retribution, a voice broke the still air;
“The helicopter could have been close, you know”
The communal daze was fragmented, everyone slightly startled to be snapped back into reality. I turned to see Kate had averted her gaze from the vast outdoors to look directly up at me.
“What?”
I countered.
“The helicopter you mentioned, it could have been really close. We had a plan; to go into the barracks. The helicopter could have been in there, and we’d be safe now”
“That’s true”
I accepted. Her point was correctly stated yet completely dead rung.
Somewhat perplexed, I turned back and met Mark’s similar expression. We both shrugged and reverted to looking out of the front again. A few seconds passed, before;
“But you ruined that opportunity”
Once again I turned back to meet a now more stern gawk from Kate from the confinements of the car boot. I was so focussed on the thoughts of other people, both past and future, that I hadn’t complicated anyone could be more fixated on what was happening this second, including why we were here. Clearly Kate had spent her quiet time focussing on the latter and subsequently worked her brain to such a frenzy she deemed it necessary for some vocal closure.
“Hang on…”
Attempted Jon. Yet my raised hand requested he allow Kate to finish.
“That’s also true I guess”
Again, showing my agreement to her now unavoidably addressable confrontation.
“You fucked us. We could be away from here now. You really fucked us killing that driver, by deciding what choices were to be made on your own. Who the fuck are you to decide? You’re not God! You’re not in charge! You’re a crippled, homicidal fuck who may have cost us our lives!”
I was utterly dumbfounded. Completely unprepared for an outburst like this, I struggled to hold my jaw steady in order to respond. Had I really fucked everyone? I mean, the driver’s death was an accident, and although Jon was involved, the wound he caused could have been addressed and the driver could have survived. He wouldn’t be in good shape, nor would he be particularly happen I’d imagine, but he could have survived. And Jon had only threatened him to back me up; I was the instigator, he had two blades in him because of me. Maybe we could have made a better plan if I had spoken to everyone, maybe not, it was impossible to know. But what I did know is her accusation wasn’t entirely untrue, making it a very hard one to both swallow and argue with.
Everyone in the car seemed similarly taken aback, no-one knowing quite where to look or how to react. Kate wanted something though, she was far from happy to let this slide without some kind of response, without some kind of explanation as to how I let it get this far. My eyes darted around aimlessly as my mind raced to think of a way of justifying my actions, to pardon my decisions to exclude everyone in our plans and to take the lives of Damian, the driver, and even possibly Phil in my own hands.
Looking up I could see that Jon and Derek were also now curious why they weren’t involved too, why I felt like I could just risk Phil’s life without speaking to them. I knew it was because neither Phil or I wanted them to attempt to take his place, but that wasn’t my choice either. I was hurt, feeling tears pushing their way from my tear ducts to the front of my eyes, yet something popped into my head which blocked the tears from escaping me and pushed them back down. The thing that popped into my head, was anger.
“You know what Kate, fuck you”
I don’t think anyone expected that. I think they had anticipated a more so heartfelt tearful apology showing my penitence before breaking down to a weak, pathetic shell. That’s what Kate wanted, I could tell, she wanted to belittle me, she wanted reparation for not being comprised and consequently inadvertently forced back in the hierarchy. Now it was her turn to look shocked whilst fighting for a response. I wasn’t prepared to wait for hers though.
“Do you know where you would be if I hadn’t stepped in? Well if you’re too thick to know then I’ll tell you; In the stomachs of several different zombies, that’s where. No one else was awake so no one else had the desire to find out who Damian was talking to. I fucking did”
Kate made a vain attempt to counter argue but only a small sound escaped her lips before I continued.
“You had no idea what was going on. No one did. I saved you from being set up and being torn apart. Do you know what it’s like to be torn apart whilst being eaten, Kate? I don’t. And once more I don’t ever want to find out, nor do I want you, or Tina, or Mark, or my three comrades to find out either. That’s why a plan was made and that’s why the fuck you’re a-fucking-live now you ungrateful fuck. Phil requested the opportunity to be a hero, which I respected and he now is. And I got rid of Damian because he tried to get rid of all of you – you might be willing to risk your friends’ lives but I’m sure as Hell not, so as far as I’m concerned he got what he deserved and is in Hell where he belongs. You want an explanation? Fuck you, you ungrateful bitch. There’s your fucking explanation”
I slumped back into my seat, folding my arms like a petulant child and pouting my lips whilst scowling at the inanimate crops outside. My eruption may had been foolish, perhaps even embarrassing under any normal circumstance. Yet this wasn’t any normal circumstance; this was a zombie apocalypse and I’d be dammed if I was taking any shit from some mouthy bitch who I had just met. I wasn’t in the mood to be to be put on the stands and have her finger pointed at me, and although there were better, calmer, more sensitive ways I could have dealt with the whole situation, I felt my
fury to be just.
“Didn’t mean to stab the driver though. Sorry.”
10.
Our route eventually left the open fields before entering a sheltered woodland area through a gate fabricated from thick, full trees arching over a shadowed entrance. The sun still shone brightly above the trees yet only thin, infrequent rays managed to creep through the thick branches that arched over the road as we trundled on with caution. The country quietness was a welcome escape from the madness that we had all experienced over the past few days, providing a soothing release from the zombie moans amalgamated with explosions, screams and gunfire. Yet the noiselessness when we couldn’t really see our surroundings and were plummeted into a much duller light was far creepier than that of the wide open land we had just driven through.
About five minutes in, Mark slowed down our approach for discovery of an upcoming block in the road; four cars had clearly smashed into one another, two lifted and resting on the boot and bonnet of another with the fourth slammed into back. The first car had crashed into a tree causing it to collapse across the road just behind the pile up, crushing a fifth car in its wake. The pile up appeared somewhat aged, showing remains of long since extinguished fires and small explosions which had propelled fragments of glass and car parts across the ground. Although the obstacle may have been a less intense version of its former initial self, the five cars covered every possible way of getting through the road; Surrounded with dense woodland accompanied by an array of large, staggered rocks on either side, there was absolutely no way through.
This particular road was a long one too, and one that had not offered any tarmacked tributaries for some miles so to turn back would mean a significant drive in the opposite direction and perhaps straight back into the waiting hands of danger and doom. We could have cut back the five minutes lost in entering the wooded area back out to the clear views of the fields, then attempted to go cross-country over the grassland and eye-high crops, but the terrain was sure to make mincemeat of a car that had already seen far better days. We had long since left the zombies in our dust, but they were fast and relentless, never tiring or stopping their cataclysmic rampage. Additionally, they now had our scent so there was little doubt that however vain it was, they were probably still on our tail.
The road ahead of the pile up albeit shadowed by the tress was still as straight and clear as the roads that preceded it, and about half a mile in the distance we could see a sixth car. This car didn’t appear to have been part of any collision and was lone standing in a sharp spotlight made by the sun through a break in the branches. It was deserted with the driver door flung open, waiting invitingly in the middle of the road with smoke still pouring out of the exhaust, signifying its retained functionality. It was good fortune to say the least, having a blockade met almost immediately with a replacement car, yet it was still half a mile through the wilderness in an area we didn’t know.
“Shall we go back?”
Tina asked the question we had all invariantly pondered.
Mark looked at me, before tapping the petrol gauge on the dash. He had failed to tell any of us that the tank was nearly empty anyway, and God knows what his plan was when the car chugged to a fuel-less halt. We couldn’t turn back as we’d be in the same situation in 20 minutes anyway, just further away from our intended destination. It now seemed like the deserted car was a blessing somewhat disguised with the hindrance of the pile up. Half a mile really wasn’t far to go, but it was far enough when we had little visibility plus knew what could be out there.
“No”
Mark retorted.
“We move forward. Let’s move into that car and keep going”
It seemed assertive and like he was sagely taking control of the situation, but we both knew he was simply cascading a choice above no other option. Even if we could have turned back, even if there was enough fuel to change route, this still seemed like the best option anyway and one we were all unanimously up for exploiting.
The half mile journey entailed an initial obstacle of the pile up, presenting us a choice of going up and over the small automotive barricade or around the edge, a couple of feet into the woodland to go around. For fear of the woodland’s dark density we manoeuvred in silence, taking precaution with every step so as not to draw attention to ourselves. Kate and I took the outer route whilst Phil, Jon, Mark, Derek and Tina ascended the cars, pushing and pulling one another over the peek as they clambered up, and then descended down the other side. Just this took some time due to the sharp shards of glass and ripped edges of metal offering some pretty nasty hazards which were to be carefully avoided. It was a precise and gradual climb of which none of the climbers took lightly.
Derek, being the last to make it across, slid down the side of one of the upturned cars to clear the final segment of this challenge. As he did, an unnoticed trailing piece of metal caught his thigh, ceasing his sliding motion and working against his gravitational flow to slice into his flesh. It was a couple of inches or so in length extruding from the car, meaning the same measurement found itself deep within his leg, emitting a loud tearing sound in the process. Derek yelped in pain, still hanging from the car’s shank as it stayed strong in its standpoint. He screamed for help as Mark and Jon bolted to his side to see what had happened. Kate and I managed to complete our outer navigation without mishap, joining the frenzied group in order to attend to Derek.
The wound looked deep with thick, dark blood escaping his thigh and pouring onto the group. He couldn’t help but yelp in sheer agony, yet Tina took the initiative to try and console him as the loud cries could most likely be heard for quite some distance. Jon pulled his leg to find the metal had acted as an internal hook, which clearly caused more pain as more cries were uncontrollably unleashed. Looking Jon in the eye, we knew the only way to get him off this with the least amount of permanent and painful damage was to lift him off the metal; Up, back to follow the shape of the shard, then down. It was a nasty mess which was evidently excruciating, but we had to get him off and get the fuck out of here.
“Look at me”
Tina held Derek’s jawline with one hand and brushed his hair back with the other, pulling him into her eye line.
“You need to be brave”
It seemed somewhat patronising, yet Derek responded well, stifling his cries with his mouth clenched shut. His eyes wobbled as he stared intensely at Tina, not averting his gaze for a moment as we got into position. His whole body shook, sweat absconding every pour and frequent tears climbing out from his eyes before running down his cheeks. Jon and I pushed his arms up onto each of our shoulders before gaining a secure grip around his legs and waist. It wasn’t possible to do this quickly as would rip his flesh from inside should we get it wrong, making a larger wound and running the risk of catching an artery. So, cautiously, we grabbed a tight hold and began to count down…
1…
Derek’s hands clenched our shirts tightly with anxiety.
2…
Tina held his head, his once staring eyes now closed, cutting off the streams as they continued to fall down his face.
3…
We lifted him and yanked his thigh backwards off the metal. We were as careful as we could be, but the metal was so jagged it clearly caught the inside of his leg in several places, tearing his flesh in the process. Against his willpower, Derek emitted a soul-cutting scream of pain. It was sharp and short, but one impossible to imitate unless experiencing the same agony. Most importantly though, he was off the hook and safely back onto the ground, panting excessively and crying tears of both distress and relief that the ordeal was over, however short lived it was. Patting his back in some otiose attempt to assure him it was over, we heard the same scream echo off in the distance. It seemed strange for there to be such a clear echo bounced back from the woodland.
Then, another scream.
A third scream filled the air, but now from a different direction.
Tina hugged Derek as Phil wrapped a t
ourniquet at the top of his thigh, but the strange array of echoes caused everyone to stand and look curiously in the directions of each of the noise’s sources.
A fourth.
A fifth.
And a sixth.
Each scream met our ears from every angle, strong in reverb yet loud enough to suggest that the source of the scream was relatively nearby.
A seventh.
An eighth, now even closer.
We turned to one another, wide eyed all with matching expressions of terror. These weren’t echoes at all, and they certainly weren’t screams from anything…human.
“Go.”
Mark uttered.
“Go!”
Jon helping me and Phil helping Derek, we darted in the direction of the running car. Both Derek and I found enough strength to put our pain aside and run to the best of our physical abilities, permitting Jon and Phil an as fast as possible escape. As we ran, the screams increased in their frequency and seemingly increased in their numbers, ever approaching and ringing terror in each of our hearts. The screams then became accompanied by rustling in the surrounding trees, with the sound of quick paced footsteps crashing through the leaves. We could see figures heading towards us from every angle, not too far back in the woodland as they gained distance at rapid speed, smashing branches and circumnavigating tree drunks in their wake. They had surrounded us, showing their evolution had made them even quicker than before, and unless we got to this car in time, we were all done for. In fact, if the car didn’t run, if there was any problem or defect with it whatsoever, we were utterly fucked.
