Rage (Book 2): The Infected

by Murray, Richard

  The Infected

  By Richard Murray

  Copyright 2020 Richard Murray

  All Rights Reserved

  All Characters are a work of Fiction.

  Any resemblance to real persons

  Living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Some scenes are based on real locations that

  have been altered for the purposes of the story.

  Chapter 1

  Jack grabbed the lapels of the older man’s suit and pulled him close so that their faces were inches apart. He snarled, flecks of spittle spattering the cowering man’s face as he resisted the urge to drag him up to the roof of the tower block and throw him from it.

  “People died!” he snapped. “Died because you blocked the fucking stairwell doors!”

  “I did what I had to!” Denis whimpered; his age-spotted hands grasping the younger man’s wrists. “You’d have done the same!”

  “Clearly he didn’t,” Kyra chimed in from where she stood beside the door, a look of grim satisfaction on her face. “But then he isn’t a coward like you are.”

  With a look of disgust, Jack shoved the older man away. Denis stumbled back, tripping over his own feet and falling to land with a thump on the hallway floor. He scrambled back, away from the anger he saw on the faces of those others crowded there.

  Jack, covered in the drying blood of the infected, with ears still ringing from the explosion that had torn through the ground floor of the block of flats, stood with clenched fists before the growing group of angry residents.

  Dobbs stood behind him, twice as wide and almost as tall as Jack’s six-foot height, still held the crowbar he had swung with devastating effect against the infected. His shoulders slumped as weariness clawed at him and he’d pulled aside the scarf that had covered his face to reveal a thick, red, beard that was matted with blood.

  Beside him was Declan, watching with wide-eyed surprise as his normally placid roommate berated the older man who had blocked off the stairwell at the sixth floor, potentially condemning a third of the tower block to death.

  “This is fun and all,” Claire said, into the silence. “But I could use some food, a shower and some sleep. Not necessarily in that order.”

  Jack glanced back at the soldier, who met his stare with equanimity. She’d been of help there at the end and both she, and the young, pretty, nurse beside her, looked wrung out. He nodded sharply before turning back to Denis and raising one finger which he pointed accusingly at the cowering man.

  “Consider this your only warning,” he said, making sure that his glance took in those other residents that were crowding the hallway. “The world has gone to hell and we have to rely on one another. If anyone puts others in harm's way to protect themselves, they will have me to deal with.”

  There was a burning fury in his breast that refused to subside. He’d seen Ben die when an infected woman had sunk her teeth into his throat and Daz had sacrificed himself, lighting the gas that had filled his flat on the ground floor as the infected swarmed inside.

  The resulting explosion had killed a great many of those that had been trying to get inside the flats and stunned the rest long enough for Jack and the others to clean up the mess. He wasn’t quite ready to consider how many he had killed that day, but he knew it was too many.

  When he had a chance to rest and reflect, perhaps in the quiet time before sleep, he knew that he would suffer the guilt over his actions. But there wasn’t time for that, not just then. There was still so much that needed doing before they could be safe.

  “I need volunteers.”

  “For what?” Lennie Pearce asked. He too kept well back from Jack as, trapped on the first floor, he had blocked the stairwell to protect himself too.

  “The fire is out on the ground floor but there’s no glass in the windows down there.” Jack glanced around, making sure that everyone understood what that meant. “The noise will be bringing more of the infected. We need to make sure the first few floors are secure.”

  “What about those of us who live on those floors?” Jason asked before anyone else could speak.

  Jack looked over at the blonde-haired man that was the reason they had likely survived at all. While the others had blocked the stairwells, it was Jason who had opened the elevator doors and dropped ropes to let those trapped down below climb up to safety.

  For that alone, he had earned Jack’s respect and he gave the other man a short nod of acknowledgement. When he had the time to do so, he would thank him properly. If, he ever had the time.

  “I wouldn’t recommend staying. We’re going to have to double up on our accommodation. If you have rooms spare, then you will need to take others in.”

  There was a murmur at that, but he ignored it. The people were scared. Over the past few weeks, they had seen their world come crashing down. Infected people rampaged through the streets committing atrocities against any they found.

  The military had enclosed the flats and surrounding area in wire mesh fences that had a wide hole in one section from when Kyra had been forced to drive through it. The city was falling apart around them and any hope of safety lay in Jack’s hands.

  A representative of each of the fifteen floors of the block of flats had voted on who they wanted to lead them, and Jack had been the one chosen. Not something he wanted, but it was something he would do to the best of his ability.

  Those in the flats had seen him go out risking himself and had faith enough in him that they didn’t complain too much just then. Besides, after seeing his anger at Denis, none were particularly willing to face it themselves.

  “We bring everything up to the fifth floor at the very least,” Jack continued. “Lock all the doors on the floors below and block the stairwells as best we can. Even then, we are going to need to have people keeping a watch at all times. I want no surprises.”

  “Going to get crowded, lad,” Chester Shaw said. “Not a lot of spare space as it is.”

  “Won’t be long before electric and gas go off anyway,” Claire said before Jack could reply. “It’s November now and in another few weeks, you’ll be glad for the extra bodies to share body heat with.”

  There was another murmur at that, and Jack held back a sigh. He’d been trying not to think about that as he focused on getting enough food and water to keep people alive for the time being. They were in for a rough few months even without the infected trying to eat them.

  “We’ll need a way out,” Claire added. “A way to come and go, unless you’ve got a lot more food here than I suspect.”

  “We can use the elevator shaft,” Dec said.

  “Better than nothing,” she replied with a shrug, then looked at Jack. “You gonna be much longer?”

  “Couple more things-“

  “More than that, I would have thought.”

  Everyone turned towards the stairwell doorway as the new voice joined the conversation and most took an involuntary step back as they saw the tall, slim, man with a menacing looking pump-action shotgun held in his hands.

  Deacon looked around, a thin smile playing on his narrow face, as he made sure that everyone could see the weapon he held. In a place where few such weapons were available, the man with the gun was the one you listened to.

  “The fuck’re you?” Dobbs asked, raising his crowbar.

  “Alright, Deke, mate,” Declan said, and the others turned to look at him. “What? It’s Deacon.”

  “Do you know everyone?” Kyra asked and Declan just gave a grin in reply as he shrugged his shoulders.

  “Glad you finally joined us.” Jack pointed at the gun the man held. “But, do you need that?”

  “I think I do, considering what a shit show you’ve all be
en making of things.”

  A frown formed on Jack’s brow as he stared at the newcomer. After everything he’d been through, all the loss and the pain and the guilt, he was in no mood to be lectured by someone who hadn’t been willing to help out when they had badly needed it.

  “If you think you could have done better, you should have come out sooner instead of hiding away in your room,” Kyra said before Jack could speak. She took a step towards the gun-wielding prepper with a look of casual dismissal on her face. “Too busy overcompensating in your room playing with your big gun, huh?”

  Deacon offered a thin-lipped smile in return and stroked one hand along the barrel of the shotgun. He didn’t look at all put out by her insult, but his eyes narrowed as he looked back at Jack.

  “I think you and me should have a wee chat, lad.” His eyes moved, taking in the crowded hallway. “Alone, aye?”

  “Dec!”

  “Yes, mate?”

  “Take Claire and Sarah up to our flat and let them shower. See if you can find some clothes for them and a bit of food, yeah?”

  “No probs.”

  With a jerk of his head, Dec led the two tired and filthy women through the crowd towards the stairwell door as he offered an apology for the number of stairs they were about to climb. As he passed, jack turned his gaze towards the large, Dobbs.

  “You and Jason head down and start getting people moved out of their flats. Ask around and see if anyone has a hammer and nails. I want those windows either nailed shut or covered over.”

  “Sure thing, boss-man.”

  “Denis,” Jack added, not watching as Dobbs gathered a few of the crowd. “I suggest you go with them. You seem to know what you’re doing when it comes to blocking the stairwells. Maybe try and let everyone up this time though, yeah?”

  He ignored the dark look from the older man as much as he did the angry murmurs of the crowd that grew at the reminder of what he’d done. Instead, he raised his voice and spoke to the crowd.

  “I want you all to head back to your flats. Gather up anything that could be used to help secure the stairwells and to cover the windows on those lower floors.” He paused, hesitating for a moment before he added, “and while you’re looking through your flats, keep an eye out for signs of rats.”

  “Why?” Lennie Pearce asked. “Not like we can get an exterminator out.”

  “Full of disease, they are,” Deacon said before Jack could answer. The slim man gave Jack a calculating look as he said it. “Like you said, not like we can get the council out to deal with them. Don’t want them coming in and pissing all over the place.”

  Kyra, wearing a troubled expression as she chewed on her lower lip stepped forward and gently laid a hand on Jack’s arm, heedless of the blood crusting there. As he turned to look at her, she removed her hand rubbing the fingers together, mouth twisting with distaste.

  “What?”

  “You can use my place to talk in private,” she said, ignoring his tone. “Better than doing it here in the hallway.”

  With a nod, Jack gestured for her to lead the way and as the crowd dispersed to the tasks that Jack had assigned them, Kyra led both him and the newcomer to her flat. She’d not bothered to lock the door when she’d left it, so just pushed it open and walked in.

  Her little black and white terrier, Archie, jumped off of the couch and ran towards her, tail wagging as she held open the door for the others. She gestured towards the couch as she picked up the dog, rubbing his head for a moment before taking him into the bedroom and closing the door, locking him out of the way.

  When she turned back, neither of the men had taken a seat. Instead, Deacon stood with his gun held across his body, watching the other man while Jack caught her eye and gestured to his soiled clothing.

  “I’m not going to cover your furniture in this shit,” he said by way of apology. “Besides, I don’t intend this to be a long conversation.”

  “Okay, well if you want a drink, grab one of the mugs from the coffee table.” She gestured at the table that held every mug she owned, all filled to the brim with water and covered over with clingfilm. “Might as well drink it while we have it.”

  “What’s your plan?” Deacon asked, ignoring her as he looked directly at Jack.

  “Survive for as long as we can until help arrives.”

  “There’s no help coming.”

  “I can’t believe that. Things are bad, but we don’t know what’s happening around the country.”

  “The country’s fucked!” Deacon snapped. “Birmingham’s fallen. London’s streets are overrun with these fuckers and every other damn city between here and there are collapsing under the weight of the infected.”

  “How do you know that?” Kyra asked. “The TV stopped working the other day.”

  “CB-Radio still works and there’s a whole network of folk just like me who have been paying attention and preparing for the shit to hit the fan.”

  “Preppers.” She rolled her eyes as she sneered at him. “Nut-jobs and conspiracy theorists.”

  “Aye, maybe so, lass,” Deacon said, a smile tilting the corner of his mouth up. “But we were right, weren’t we?”

  She didn’t answer and his smile widened as he knew he had scored a point. That smile soon faded though as he looked back at Jack.

  “You figured out about the rats?”

  “Yeah. How did you know?”

  “What about the rats?” Kyra asked, looking between the two men, who both ignored her question as they sized one another up.

  “Been in touch with a lad from down south. Was a paramedic and he walked into a house to find a bunch of the filthy creatures chewing on the family pet.”

  “That doesn’t mean-“

  “It was a fucking Doberman. A whole bunch of these little bastards had swarmed over it, biting and tearing at its flesh. It killed a few of them but didn’t last long. Once the paramedics walked in, they didn’t run, just turned and stared at them.”

  Deacon gave a mirthless grin at the look of growing horror on the faces of the younger people.

  “Aye, this lad probably looked just like you two do right now. He said he stood there for a minute staring at them, then they came at him. Dozens of the bloody things.”

  “What happened?” Kyra asked, voice barely above a whisper.

  “He ran like fuck. His mate wasn’t as fast.” Deacon shook his head and raised one hand to run through his thinning hair. “Laddo jumped into his ambulance and was backing out of the drive as he saw his mate come running at him. Leapt up onto the front of his wagon and slammed his head right through the windscreen.”

  Jack clenched his hands into fists and sucked in a deep breath of air. It was worse than he’d suspected, and he hated that he’d been right. Not only were the rats susceptible to the infection, they were carriers too.

  “We need to secure this place against them,” he said, turning his face away from the others. “We can’t let them get inside.”

  “Why?” Kyra asked. “We had exterminators out not long back and they cleared them all out. We’re good.”

  “For the moment,” Jack replied. “But there’s no way we can stop rats getting in the flat. You know that! We’ve had the bloody exterminators out enough times to this block and they always come back.”

  Kyra nodded numbly, face pale as she realized just how bad a situation they were in. Even as the infected had been attacking the building, she’d clung on to some hope that help would be coming, and the world would return to normal.

  “What do we do then?” she asked in a small voice.

  “You’ve made a good start,” Deacon offered. “Secure the building against the infected first. They’re our biggest threat. After that, we need food and water to last us the winter.”

  “Medicine too,” Jack said, absently as he thought through the problems he saw coming. “We have people who need their medication.”

  “Get used to the idea they’re gonna die, lad.”

  “Wha
t!”

  “You get them their meds, then what? How many weeks will you buy them? You gonna start making more of what they need?”

  “Shit.”

  “Aye. At the moment the infected are growing in number and the people like us, sitting in their homes eating and drinking their supplies will soon need to go out and get more. The infected will have them, and their numbers will grow. We need to go out there now, while we still can.”

  “We tried going out and people died,” Jack snapped. “I don’t recommend it.”

  “Don’t have a choice. We need to prepare as best we can.”

  “For what?” Kyra asked. “It’s as bad as it gets. What else do we need to prepare for?”

  “To leave,” Deacon said and the other two stared at him in open-mouthed disbelief.

  “Why would we leave?”

  “You know why,” Deacon said to Jack, ignoring Kyra’s question. “Don’t you?”

  Jack nodded his head slowly. He could understand why and though he hated to admit it, he knew what the cost of leaving would be. The one thing he hadn’t considered was where they would go to, but that would come later he figured.

  “Well! You going to enlighten me?” Kyra asked, throwing up her arms in frustration. “Why do we have to leave?”

  “We’re in the middle of a city or almost three-quarters of a million people,” Jack said, slowly. “The infected are growing in number, and now we know the rats carry the infection too. Soon both human and animal infected will have gone through the easy prey. Then they’ll get hungry.”

  “And more dangerous,” Deacon added.

  “Then we turn this place into a fortress and wait them out! They’ll starve before we do.”

  “No.” Jack shook his head, imagining the potential problems. “I don’t think they will. We’ve seen how aggressive they are, and they know we’re in here. Even if we could keep them outside, with enough water and food inside for us, I don’t think we could keep the rats out when they get hungry.”

  “Christ!” she said, voice full of fear. “Where the hell would we go?”

  “No idea, lass,” Deacon said, with a grin. “But if you’ll let me help you, I think we can figure something out that will allow some of us to get to safety.”