by Thomas Hall
Dale walked towards the window. He was limping from some forgotten injury. Had he hurt himself when he’d kicked the wood? He no longer knew.
He stopped a few feet away from the window. Bradley had his face pressed against the glass and a big distorted grin. His eyes were dark marbles. Something wasn’t right.
Cautiously Dale approached the window. When he was a few feet away, he saw the patches of dark rot that covered Bradley’s face. The red and green growths. Dale stopped. Suddenly he didn’t want to leave his little room. Then the door handle started to turn from the other side.
Dale stepped back but there was nowhere for him to hide. He got behind the bed. The door opened and Bradley walked in. He had a gun.
‘I can see you, Dale,’ Bradley said.
He wasn’t trying to hide. He thought that the bed might give him an extra couple of seconds if Bradley decided to start shooting. Or, as seemed more likely, turned the rest of the way into a zombie and came running for him. Dale was no scientist but he guessed Bradley had minutes rather than hours.
‘What do you want?’ Dale said.
‘I just want to talk,’ Bradley said. He sounded calm and the request was reasonable enough, but Dale could tell that he wasn’t in his right mind.
‘About what?’ Dale said.
‘Come on Dale, let’s not play games. We both know I haven’t got long left.’
‘What happened?’
‘There was an accident in the lab. One of the virus samples was released.’
‘One of the samples they took from me?’
‘Yeah, but it’s not your fault. They managed to get the scientists out in time. They’re in a secure building while the mess is cleaned up.’
Dale stood up. He kept the bed between himself and Bradley.
‘No one’s blaming you,’ Bradley said.
‘That’s good,’ Dale said.
‘It doesn’t really seem fair, though.’
‘How do you mean?’
Bradley shrugged. ‘Carrie and the kids are dead.’
‘Shit!’ Dale said. ‘I’m sorry to hear that man.’ Dale walked around the bed. The floor was littered with the remains of his last escape attempt. A fallen chair lay between them.
Bradley nodded. Then he shook his head. ‘I looked after them until they turned. Then I had to shoot them.’
‘That’s terrible, shit. Man, I’m sorry you had to go through that.’
‘So it doesn’t seem fair, that’s all. I’m not blaming you. It just doesn’t seem right.’
‘What doesn’t?’
‘You’re not going to get it, are you? I had to bury my wife and kids but you won’t catch it. I’m dying Dale but that doesn’t matter to you does it?’
‘Of course it–‘
‘Because you won’t catch it. You won’t get sick and you won’t turn into one of them.’
‘Bradley, listen to me. I didn’t want to be like this. Do you think I wanted to spend the last three months locked up in this room?’
Bradley raised the gun so that it was aimed directly at Dale’s head. Without the bed between them, they stood just a metre apart. Dale raised his hands.
‘You’re going to shoot me?’ Dale said.
‘I know it’s not your fault,’ Bradley said. He still sounded calm but Dale didn’t know how much of that was real and how much was the zombie virus already having an effect. ‘It’s just not fair.’
‘You’re going to shoot me because it’s not fair?’
Bradley nodded. ‘No hard feelings.’
Dale kicked the fallen chair into Bradley’s legs.
Bradley fired a shot in surprise. The bullet hit the window but it didn’t break. He looked down to see what had happened.
In the fraction of a second, it took Bradley to do so Dale jumped and slammed an elbow into the back of his neck.
Bradley fell on the floor.
If Bradley had been at full strength, then Dale never would have been able to do that. His senses must have been dulled by the virus.
‘I’m sorry,’ Dale said.
Bradley didn’t move. He lay on top of the gun.
There was nothing that Dale could do for Bradley. He turned away from him and walked to the door. It was unlocked.
CHAPTER 4
DALE WALKED ACROSS AN EMPTY COURTYARD. THE BUILDINGS that surrounded him were single story and made of brick. They looked newly built. There was nothing elaborate or decorative about the place. The ground was grey cement. Only the blue sky offered any variation.
It was the first time he had seen the outside since arriving in the compound. He imagined that he could sense how the world had changed. It seemed to be quieter and more still. It would have been easy to believe that he was the only person alive for miles around.
He walked towards the nearest building. There were black domed video cameras in the wall that did not entirely destroy his impression of being alone. The cameras seemed as lifeless as the buildings, although he knew that somebody was probably watching them and raising the alarm about his escape. He had to hurry.
There was a warmth in the air that made him wonder if he had been locked away for more than three months. Perhaps they had sedated him again and he had slept through the winter. Nothing seemed impossible.
The doors of the building were locked. Dale turned and started walking towards the next one. They were arranged in a circle around the dull courtyard. Behind one of the doors, he knew, the scientists would be hiding. He wasn’t sure exactly what Bradley had meant by ‘clean up’ but he was reasonably certain that it meant the scientists were being kept safe while someone else risked their life fixing the mess they’d made.
The second building was locked as well. Dale wondered if they were all locked. If that turned out to be the case, he would have to leave without water but he didn’t think he would get far. He had no idea where he was, no idea what resources were available. He might have less than a day before he died.
The third door that he tried opened. It smelled dusty and unused. Dale went inside and closed the door behind him.
A long corridor stretched from one side of the building to the other. Dale could see a postage stamp sized window at the other end. The floor was made of red tiles. There were doors along the corridor but no markings to tell him what was on the other side.
Dale walked slowly. He tried one door after another but found them locked. Finally, at the end of the corridor, he turned a handle and the door swung inwards. He reached for a light switch, flipped it and stepped into the room.
The room was not much larger than the three bunk beds it contained. Five of the beds were unmade. The one closest to the door had a grey blanket and the pillow was dented. There was no one there.
Dale looked around the room for a bottle of water, or a sink that he could stick his head under, but the room turned out to be empty except for the beds. The occupant of the bed by the door had no personal belongings.
He closed the door behind him. Unless he tried breaking down one of the other doors, there was nowhere else for him to go. He decided to move on and try the next building.
The next building was locked. The one after that open. It had the same red tiled floor but instead of a corridor, it was a wide open space filled with tables and benches. At the back of the room, there was a long counter for serving food.
Dale walked through the room towards the counter. He could see the food preparation area behind it. A large sink and an oven. If there had been anyone else in the building, he wouldn’t have noticed them. There was no corridor but he had tunnel vision. His only thought was water.
He opened the silver fridge. It was taller than he was and much wider. He took out a two-litre bottle of water, opened it and began to drink. He got halfway through the bottle before he started to retch and vomit most of what he had drunk onto the floor.
He stopped. Held his knees and panted. He felt better already.
There was food as well. He took a black bin bag from u
nder the sink and filled it with as much as he could carry. He took another bottle of water out of the fridge and opened it. This time, he sipped it slowly. He swung the bag over his shoulder and made his way back across the room. He had to hurry now.
Outside it was still quiet. He didn’t know which way was out. He stopped for a moment in the middle of the courtyard and thought about it. There was no way of knowing. He looked around at the grey brick buildings and he couldn’t even tell which one had been his home for the last three months.
Dale decided to start walking. He couldn’t see anything of the landscape beyond the compound but he had nowhere to go anyway. It didn’t matter whether he went north, south, east or west. The important thing was that he go away.
He walked between two of the buildings. There was no gate to keep people in. The compound had been built at the top of a hill but once he had gone a little further, he saw forest stretching into the distance.
Dale paused and took a mouthful of water. He had no idea where he was in the world and no idea what he might find outside of the compound. Based on what Bradley and Velma had told him the world was overrun with zombies. He might not be turned into one but he could still be killed.
If he left the compound, his future was uncertain. But was that better or worse than a future in which it was certain he would remain a prisoner? The victim of cruel medical tests designed to find what was unique about him and replicate it for mass consumption.
Dale didn’t want to be a prisoner anymore. He knew that much. It was enough to make the decision. He screwed the cap back on the water bottle.
There was a noise behind him and Dale froze. It sounded like voices or movement. He turned one way and saw two soldiers with guns coming towards him.
Another noise. A dull moan that came from the other direction but was then repeated from the forest. Dale turned and saw Bradley coming towards him. He shuffled unsteadily. The length of his illness had left him weakened.
Dale turned back towards the forest and started to run.
The forest engulfed him. It was cool beneath the thick canopy of leaves. He could hear chirping insects and birds calling to one another. He could hear the soldiers coming for him and the moans of nearby zombies.
Dale ran as quickly as he could but it had been months since he’d been able to run at all. His legs were weak. His knees vibrated uncomfortably with the impact of each step. He soon found himself out of breath, his heart pounding against his chest and his lungs burning. It was only fear that kept him moving.
A shot was fired and followed by a howl of pain but it didn’t come from him. Dale turned and saw that two zombies had fallen to the ground. He saw a third fall followed by the sound of a second gunshot.
He could hear water running. There was a river in the distance but he couldn’t see it yet. It was getting louder so he knew he was moving towards it. He altered his course slightly. He didn’t want to be blocked in.
The soldiers had stopped shouting. Dale wondered if they had seen him at all. It was possible that they had been sent to kill the zombies. Perhaps part of the ‘clean up’ operation that Bradley had mentioned.
Dale realised that it didn’t matter. If they shot him on purpose or by accident, the result would be the same. If the zombies caught him, there would be only one outcome. His chances of survival seemed remote but he either had to try or lay down and die.
He found the river even though he hadn’t been looking for it. The water was clear enough to see the dark rocks at the bottom. Not very deep. The soldiers and the zombies were still coming. Dale ran alongside the river bank.
The sound of the water grew louder. He could barely hear his own footsteps. Dale knew that it was a mistake to stay where his senses were compromised. It would be easy to forget that people were chasing him if he couldn’t hear them.
Dale tripped and stumbled on a rock. It slowed him down but he didn’t stop. Ahead he saw a wooden bridge across the water but it was green with rot and looked unlikely to support his weight. He passed it at a jog. His lungs burned.
The forest seemed to go on forever. He struggled to think of anywhere in England where such an expanse could exist. Perhaps in Wales, but the land was mostly flat, or Scotland, but the temperature was warm. Perhaps some other part of the world. He would likely never know.
He reached a sharp curve in the river and he had to turn in order to continue following it. The water grew temporarily shallower and narrower as if there was a dam somewhere ahead or behind. If he was going to jump it now would be the time. Dale kept following the bank on the same side.
It began to seem impossible that the zombies and soldiers were still following him. He seemed to have been running for hours. Dale risked turning to look and he could still see them. He wasn’t getting away from them.
The river began to deepen and the bank stretched into the distance. He had lost his chance to leap across.
Dale looked at the unending forest. At first, he only registered that something was different but not what. Then he saw movement. He hadn’t noticed it because there were so many of them. It seemed as if the whole forest was moving towards him.
Drawn by the sounds of the zombies who were chasing him more had appeared. Too many to count but he was sure there were a hundred at least. They were coming towards him and he was moving towards them.
He looked right and he saw the river. Now too deep to see the bottom and too wide to jump across. He looked left and he saw more forest. He saw more zombies coming through the plants towards him.
Dale wished that he’d taken the time to get Bradley’s gun while he’d been unconscious on the ground. Now it was doing no one any good. Even if Bradley was still alive, zombies couldn’t fire guns.
He slowed to a walk but didn’t stop. There was only one option available to him. The water looked cold and uninviting. He wondered what it would really be like to get eaten alive. He decided it would be much worse than cold water.
Dale jumped into the river. The icy water took his breath away. For a moment, he seemed not to exist at all. Every nerve in his body was overwhelmed by the shock of the sudden cold.
He was reasonably sure that the zombies wouldn’t follow him into the river. If they did then, only the newest of them would retain the ability to swim. The rest would probably just float around on the surface or sink.
Gunshot peppered the water like hailstones. Dale turned towards the soldiers. He was able to stand on the ends of his toes. He had convinced himself that the soldiers were only there for the zombies. A second spray of bullets across the water proved that not to be the case.
Dale turned and started to swim. He had never been graceful in the water and desperation made him clumsy. The soldiers continued to shoot at him and finally, a bullet found its mark.
His shoulder exploded. It was instant agony. He cried out in shock and pain. The zombies who were watching him from the river bank replied with moans.
He couldn’t stop to tend his injury. The only hope he had of getting away alive was to keep moving along the river. If he got far enough away, then the zombies would give up on him and maybe the soldiers would too.
Dale pulled himself along with his uninjured left arm. He had to compensate for this movement to avoid turning in circles. He could still hear the zombies and the soldiers but they seemed more distant already.
He lost a lot of blood. The cold of the river was making the problem worse. The world seemed to be losing clarity. Colours and shapes washed together.
Dale fought to stay conscious for as long as he could manage. A part of him was aware, even as he slipped into the darkness, that it would mean his death. If he fell beneath the water and passed out, he would be dead before he settled on the river bed.
He couldn’t keep his eyes open. In life, there was pain and discomfort. In the darkness there was nothing.
CHAPTER 5
HE OPENED HIS EYES BUT HE COULDN’T SEE anything. The world was too bright. Everything looked bleached out an
d white.
It took several moments for him to realise that he was no longer in the river. He could still hear it and part of him seemed to be moving. He leaned over and vomited.
Dale was laying down on what felt like grass. His legs were numb and he was soaking wet. His head was spinning.
His eyes began to adjust. There was something above him. A leafless tree with gnarled and knotted branches.
‘Who are you?’ a woman said.
Dale squinted at the tree and then lowered his head. He could just about make out a dark shape standing in front of him. The woman seemed to have no features.
‘Where are you from?’ she said.
Dale opened his mouth but the only noise he could make was a low moan. It startled him to hear it coming out of his own throat. For a moment, he wondered if Velma had been lying to him. Had he woken up as a zombie?
A gun clicked. He looked at the woman again and saw that she had her arms out. She was pointing a gun at him.
‘Wait. Stop. Please,’ Dale said. The words were croaky but they were still words.
The woman didn’t lower the gun. He thought that she was going to shoot him anyway.
‘Please don’t shoot,’ he said.
‘Who are you?’ she said.
‘My name’s Dale Pope,’ he said. ‘I’m a soldier.’
‘What were you doing in the river Dale Pope?’ she said.
His eyes began to clear. He could see that the woman had brown hair that was verging on red. Dark eyes and her mouth set in a determined pout. She was in her late twenties and beautiful.
‘I fell in,’ Dale said. He felt as if he’d swallowed half of the water in the river.
‘You fell in?’ She arched her eyebrows as if the idea was ridiculous. She kept the gun levelled at his head. He hadn’t heard her engage the safety.
‘People do fall into rivers,’ Dale said.
