“Hey, I’m not saying anything, Lass,” Deacon said, holding up his hand's palms outwards in mock surrender. “Just enjoying the ride.”
“Shut up and get dressed.”
She gave herself one final check over before heading over to the door. She kicked aside the rubber doorstop that was holding it closed and pulled it open, lifting her gun to her shoulder as she stepped through.
It was true, what she’d said to him. The rush of combat, the excitement and surge of adrenaline always left her feeling like her skin was itching all over. She needed that one explosive release and since they were safe and needed to wait, she’d taken advantage of the closest warm body she could tolerate.
Deacon watched her leave before pulling the condom off and tossing it to the corner of the room. He grinned as he quickly dressed and gathered his shotgun before scurrying out of the room after her. While he didn’t care what her reasons were, he was more than happy for her to do it again which meant he intended to stay close.
Claire tapped on the next door in the long hallway and it opened a bare inch as Michael peered out at her.
“Get your shit together, we’re moving out,” she said, not waiting for him to reply before she was off along the corridor.
The wind was howling beyond the safety of the building and rain lashed the windows. It wasn’t ideal conditions to be moving but if they didn’t leave soon, then it would be too late. She knew just how the infected behaved under the cover of night and she didn’t want to face them with just three civilians to back her up.
She moved quickly, taking the time to clear each room that she passed even though she’d already done so when they first entered the building. At the front door, she paused, quickly checking her weapon before she attached the knife to the end of it to be used as a bayonet.
Once ready, she pulled open the door, turning her face from the rain that was blown against her. She stepped out, gun raised as she swept the area before her from left to right. Only when sure they area was clear did she move out.
Deacon followed behind her, emulating her movements with his own shotgun. Claire didn’t bother to hide her sneer as she moved towards the garage. She paused when she saw the door was open and cautiously peered around the doorframe.
“Empty,” she said, having to turn her head to raise her voice to be heard over the wind and rain. “No blood at least.”
“So, didn’t turn?”
“Guess not.”
“Where the fuck are they then?”
Claire shrugged, not knowing or really caring. She had a goal and that was to get one of the trucks that had already been loaded with MRE’s and drive it to the block of flats where she would then hole up for the rest of the winter as she waited for the infected to die off.
Thunder rumbled across the sky and the world around them was briefly lit by the flash of lightning. Claire ignored it, much as she ignored the rain that was blown against by the violent wind that seemed intent on pushing her back towards the buildings.
“Where we going?” Deacon called.
“Truck just outside the gates,” Claire yelled back. Unless the infected were right beside her, they wouldn’t hear her over the rain and wind anyway. “Some were loaded and ready to go.”
She led the way slowly through the packed pallets, pausing at the corner of each and checking for danger before moving forward. It was slow going, and the three of them were soon soaked to the skin and shivering from the cold.
The storm that had blown in didn’t show any signs of stopping and Claire couldn’t help but wonder just how it would affect those infected people.
As she neared the gate, she took a moment to pause before clambering over the bodies piled there. Not even the storm could keep down the stench and she resisted the urge to gag as she focused on paying attention to what might be beyond the gate.
The bodies were piled high and she had to climb the mound, placing her feet carefully to avoid slipping and falling onto the bloated corpses. Deacon came next and behind him, Michael, though the latter going a lot slower.
“Hey!”
Claire looked up, gun rising as she heard the call, barely audible over the wind. Just moving into view were the other two men, neither of which appeared to be infected though they were waving their arms to get her attention.
“They’re alive then,” Deacon said, frowning at the two men. “What they waving for?”
Jack and Dobbs were both waving and pointing at the bodies they were standing on. Claire looked down at those bodies, eyebrows rising as she realised what was happening.
“Get back!” she yelled as a grasping hand shot out of the pile of bodies and grabbed her ankle.
Claire stabbed down with the bayonet on the end of the assault rifle as more hands reached out from within the piled bodies. Michael shrieked, voice high pitched and full of fear, while Deacon aimed his shotgun down and pulled the trigger.
The other two men ran forward, their weapons raised to help their friends. Jack, cursing beneath his breath as he ran. They’d just wanted to get an idea of how safe it was before going to get the others and had walked into the same trap.
Dobbs slammed his crowbar down on a grasping hand, breaking the fingers and hearing a distant howl from the infected that he’d damaged. He swung at the next, as Jack darted in, knife flashing. Deacon kept firing at any hand that came close and Claire used her bayonet to good effect.
“Keep moving forward!” Jack shouted to be heard over the storm. “They won’t come out from under there!”
Claire gave a sharp nod before skewering another hand that was reaching for her and then she was over the top of the pile and descending towards where Jack and Dobbs were doing their best to clear a path.
Deacon laughed maniacally as he leapt the top of the pile and half fell, half ran down the other side. Michael came last, seeming to forget the weapon he held as he bounced from one foot to another, trying to evade the hands.
He let out a shriek as a hand grabbed his ankle, his face showing his terror as he fell forward to land on the piled bodies. His shriek became a whimper as he was pulled back, into the pile of corpses, his hands scrabbling for purchase.
“Wait!” Jack said as Claire moved to help him.
“Why?”
A look of sorrow crossed the young leaders face as she shook his head and pointed at Michael who was screaming for their help.
“He’s already infected.”
The others needed only a moment to see the bleeding gash on the side of Michael's hand. When he’d landed on the bodies, he’s scraped his hand across broken ribcage of the body beneath him.
“Fuck,” Claire said as she raised the assault rifle and fired off one single shot.
Michaels screams cut off and he was dragged fully beneath the pile of bodies as the others watched in silence.
“Three people,” Jack said, slowly. “Three dead because of me.”
“People die,” Claire snapped. “Why aren’t they coming out to try and get us?”
“Storm,” Dobbs grunted. “They don’t like it.”
“What?”
“Either the rain and wind or the lightning,” Jack clarified. “A couple tried to crawl out earlier but as soon as the lightning appeared, they crawled back under to hide.”
“We can work with that,” Claire said, shouldering her rifle. “You checked the trucks?”
“Yeah.” Jack nodded towards one of the large covered wagons that were parked beside the road. “Full of those, MRE things you mentioned. Thousands of the things.”
“Meals Ready to Eat,” Claire said. “Taste like shit but will last forever. Let’s get them back before the storm ends and more of us die.”
With one final look for the bodies that Michael had been dragged into, Jack turned and led the way to the trucks. He climbed into the first with Dobbs, while Claire and Deacon took the one behind.
In moments they were moving, headed back towards the tower block where he would have to tell yet
more people that he had got their friends and family members killed.
Hopefully, he thought, they would realise just how unsuited he was to lead them and put someone else in charge so he could just focus on getting through the day without having to worry about who his decisions would get killed.
Chapter 16
“Why go up top?” Peter mused as Bradley manoeuvred the prison van through the narrowing streets to the rear of the shopping centre.
“I don’t fucking know, do I? Bunch of women, who knows why they do anything?”
Peter had no reply to that, and he just turned his head to look out through the window, well aware that the freaks that kept attacking people could be anywhere.
The rain that had started off light had fast become almost so heavy that it obscured his view of the city streets. It did seem to have had the added benefit of clearing the streets. Peter watched as paper and plastic carrier bags were blown across the road ahead.
Baggage that had been abandoned or dropped while the owners fled, had opened up and the contents were caught by the wind.
“That thunder?” Bradley asked, leaning forward to peer up into the slate grey sky.
“Think so.”
“Fucking hate thunder.”
Peter turned to look at the gang leader, a slight smile growing on his lips as he imagined the thug cowering away before a thunderstorm. The smart ass comment he had been about to make died as they approached the entrance to the parking structure.
“Balls.”
“Well then, that’s why they went up to the top, isn’t it?” Bradley said. “Now what?”
Peter lifted his shoulders in a shrug as he stared at the steel mesh someone had erected over the entrance and exit ramps to the parking structure. Sandbags had been piled up in front of it to create a barrier of sorts that had been used by the army, judging by the equipment left behind.
“I’ll check it out while you get the lads out the back,” Peter said to the gang leader. “Probably a good idea to bring their gear if we do make it inside.”
“Yeah, okay.” Bradley reached out and tapped the other man on the arm. “Watch out for those freaky fucks, yeah?”
“Aye.”
“Sound.”
Peter pushed open the door to the cab and recoiled as the wind and rain hit him full on. Overhead thunder cracked and a flash of lightning illuminated the area. He left the door open behind him and ran across to the sandbag barrier.
He ignored the corpses dressed in army fatigues and all those others wearing very little and moved immediately to the metal barrier. It was secured with a padlock at the very bottom, against the road. Hastily done but since they had no tools, not easily broken.
A few weapons had been dropped by the soldiers and he picked up the nearest. While he’d little actual practice with any sort of gun, it was pretty simple to figure out how to work it. Not that it mattered, the soldiers had run out of ammo before they were overrun.
Still, it had a knife attached to the barrel and he thrust that through the loop and twisted. It didn’t budge and he gave out a grunt as he put all of his strength behind it.
“What you doing, man?” someone said, and Peter stopped, turning to look at the approaching prisoners.
“Trying to open this bloody lock!”
The young, black man made a tutting sound as he gestured Peter to move out of the way. “Leave it to me, man.”
Peter threw up his hands in defeat and stepped aside. One good thing about travelling with criminals was that you were almost guaranteed that one of them would know his way around a lock. As he waited, he detached the knife from the end of the rifle and kept that while discarding the empty rifle.
“Still got it!” the young prisoner said as he laughed and tossed aside the padlock.
Two of the inmates grabbed the bottom of the steel mesh fence and lifted. It rolled up into the roof like the shutters shop owners used and the group of former prisoners stood before the ramp leading up and stared into the dim interior.
There were eight of them, including Peter and Bradley, and while each of them carried a weapon of some kind, they were street thugs, dealers and small-time criminals. They weren’t killers, not really, and each of them knew that.
Whatever strange new reality they had found beyond the prison walls, they hadn’t yet had to really face the infected. Hadn’t had to fight for their lives or kill to survive, and yet each one of them standing there, knew that they would be about to do just that.
“You sure we doing this?” Bradly asked, Peter.
“Aye. You saw what happened to that kid.” Both men shivered at that memory. “Yeah, I ain’t gonna leave anyone to face that.”
“Right on, brother.” Bradley turned to the others, raising his voice to be heard over the wind and lashing rain. “Keep your bloody eyes open, yeah? Whatever happens in there, hit them first and don’t let the freaky fucks bite you.”
A chorus of agreement rose from the group and Bradley gave a satisfied nod before leading the way into the darkness of the parking garage.
****
“They’ve gone in!” Anna cried excitedly as she leaned precariously out over the concrete wall that ran around the top of the parking structure.
Jason moaned in response; a whimper of terror mixed with pain as he leant back against the side of a car a short distance away. His face was pale, and rain mixed with the sweat that beaded his skin. Sarah had seen the symptoms enough times to know it wasn’t a good sign.
“Did you see they were all wearing the same clothes?” Kyra asked, glancing back at the others. “And that van they’re driving is one the prisons use.”
“So?” Anna asked. “Wha you trying to say?”
“I think they’re prisoners, probably from Armley.”
The younger woman screwed her face up at that thought as she looked over as the ramp that led down into the darkened interior. There was infected waiting in there and likely rats too. If those men were willing to risk their lives then they couldn’t be all bad, could they?”
“We just need to be careful,” Kyra said, reading the others woman’s expression. “I’ve known a few people who ended up in prison before and they don’t tend to be the altruistic type.”
“Can’t judge them based on their past,” Sarah added. “But we can be careful. We’ve all got knives, and I suggest we keep them close. This isn’t a world with much in the way of consequences for crime these days.”
The three women shared a look. They each knew exactly what that could mean for them in the new reality they were living in. Anna, especially, felt a shiver of fear run through her for she knew exactly how any man would react if they tried to assault her.
“I-I don’t think we should stay here,” she said in a small voice.
“Not many places we can go,” Kyra replied, not unkindly. While she wasn’t entirely sure of the younger woman’s sudden change in mood, she had her suspicions. “We’re stuck up here. All we can do is stay together, okay?”
“Yeah.”
Kyra reached out and patted Anna gently on the shoulder before she walked across to where Sarah stood and spoke in a low voice.
“We get in the back of that van down there with half a dozen men and it won’t end well for us, you know that, don’t you?”
“All too well,” Sarah said, thinking back to the soldiers she had fled from with Claire. “What do you plan to do about it?”
“I have a couple of ideas. I doubt they know about the rats, for one.” Both women shuddered at the memory of how those creatures had swarmed Declan. They could still hear his screams when they thought of it. “All we need is for them to be distracted long enough for us to slip away.”
“To where? That damned alarm has brought all the infected out.”
“Yeah, and, where are they?” Kyra looked around, lifting her arms out to her sides. “Huh? I can’t see them, can you?”
She had a point, Sarah had to concede. She’d no idea why they hadn’t follow
ed them out onto the top level of the parking structure, but she knew they were still in there, waiting. The hairs on the back of her neck hadn’t stopped standing on end and she could almost feel them watching her.
A flash of lightning illuminated the area and thunder rumbled across the sky as the rain beat down against them. The few cars that were still parked nearby were all locked and not much use to them as shelter.
Sarah wiped rainwater from her eyes and looked down at Jason who had begun to shiver. “The infected are still out there,” she said. “But I don’t think they like the storm.”
“Fine, so we can run like hell and get back home before the storm ends. As soon as we are out of here, we ditch those men and run for it.”
“What about Jason?”
Kyra followed her gaze to where Jason huddled, and the corner of her mouth lifted in a sneer. “What about him?”
“He’s one of us!”
“No, he’s just another man who proved himself to be fucking useless when the time came for him to stand up. I’ve met way too many men like him before and we’ll be better off without him.”
“You’re a bitch.”
“I’ve been called worse, but I’m right and you know it. We burden ourselves with him and we die. It’s as simple as that.”
Kyra shook damp hair from her face and softened her tone as she looked at the nurse. She was well aware that she needed allies and while she knew she could use her looks to manipulate men, she also knew that she needed the women on her side too and usually, her looks didn’t help with women.
“Look. I’ve seen this before, trust me on that. I’ve had men let me down too many times to count. They’ve hit me, treated me like shit and when needed, they’ve disappeared from my life. You can’t trust them.”
“Really? You seemed to trust Jack and De-“ She licked her lips, struggling to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat. “And, Declan. He was a good man.”
“Yeah, and look where that got him.”
Sarah clenched her hands into fists until the knuckles whitened and turned her face away from the other woman until she composed herself. She’d liked Declan and his death had been utterly pointless to her mind.
Rage (Book 2): The Infected Page 11
