Rage (Book 2): The Infected

by Murray, Richard

  He had no intention of going inside until the trucks were unloaded. Three men had died so that they could have those supplies and while he was sure that there would be people he would need to talk to, family or friends of those men, he couldn’t face it just then.

  “We good?” Claire asked as she reached him with Deacon a step behind.

  “Yeah, as good as we can be. Will have people down in a minute or two to start unloading.” Jack looked past them at the truck and nodded to the one the two had been driving. “Go open up the back and check there’s nothing hiding in there that could hurt people, yeah?”

  “Let your buddy do that,” Claire said, lifting her chin towards the tower block a short distance away. “They see us unloading food and they could try something. Since we have the guns, might be better to stay close.”

  Jack ran a hand down his face. He was sick of the rain and the cold wind, sick of the thunder that rumbled overhead, and he was mightily sick of having to be in charge. All he wanted to do was get a hot shower and change into some dry clothing.

  But that wasn’t to be. There were things he had to do first and no matter how much he wanted to put those things off, he was left with little choice.

  “People are coming,” Lennie said, returning to where they stood. The older man carefully avoided stepping out into the rain, instead lingered by the open door. “You want to be careful, was some rats out there earlier.”

  “Out here?” Jack asked, looking at the bodies that still lay on the ground.

  “Aye, lad. Eating them dead people. Nasty little buggers.”

  “None here now,” Deacon said, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “If they ran to hide from the storm, we need to start checking the flats.”

  Jack thought for a moment as he pinched the bridge of his nose. There would be no rest for him anytime soon, he realised.

  “Fine. Deacon, you grab a couple of people to start checking for any signs of rats in the tower block. Claire, you keep an eye on that other tower block. If anyone comes out, let me know.”

  “Where you gonna be?”

  “Telling whatever family and friends are in this tower that their loved ones didn’t make it back.” Jack looked at Lennie. “You co-ordinate the transfer of ration boxes upstairs. Talk with Dobbs, he’ll know what to do.”

  “Aye, lad.” The older man looked nervously at the younger for a moment, debating whether he should say something.

  “Spit it out,” Jack said, not in the mood to mess about.

  “That friend of yours…”

  “Dec?”

  “Aye, lad, aye. Him and those girls, the pretty nurse, Kyra and that young lass who lost her boyfriend…”

  “What about them?”

  “They went out.”

  “Went out?” Jack asked, looking at Deacon and Claire as if for some explanation of just what the older man meant. “What do you mean went out? To where?”

  “Said something about medicine and went into the city centre.”

  “You’re fucking kidding!”

  “Nay, lad.”

  “When did they go? Why didn’t anyone stop them?”

  “Not our job to tell people what they can and can’t do, lad.”

  “Oh, for fuck's sake!” Jack shook his head numbly. Of all the stupid things he expected people to do, going into the city centre was ranked highly. “I need to go-“

  “And do what?” Claire snapped. “They’re adults and they’ll either come back or they won’t, but it was their choice to go. You running off looking for them won’t help.”

  “The storm will keep them safe,” Deacon added. “The infected are all hiding away.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Jack said, though he wasn’t so sure.

  Something was telling him that they weren’t safe and that they needed him. Not that he could do anything, as his latest trip had shown. All he could do was get more people killed.

  “Get to work,” he said instead, before pushing past Lennie into the flats.

  He had too much to do and way too little time. At least in the flats, he had a chance of not getting anyone killed. With that thought in mind, he headed for the elevator shaft.

  ****

  Emmie Dean finished putting the clean nappy on her daughter and lifted her gently in her arms, cooing softly as she held that most precious burden. She was, without a doubt, her entire world and while everything beyond her small flat had gone to hell, she was as content as she could be, for she had her daughter with her.

  Which was not something she had imagined a year and a half before when she found out that she was pregnant. The father, a long-term partner, had baulked at the idea of raising a child when they were so young themselves and soon made himself scarce.

  Since then it had been one catastrophe after another. Her conservative and somewhat religious parents had kicked her out, and not long after, she had been forced to leave college. She’d been in temporary accommodation provided by the council when she first went into labour and it was a gruelling eighteen hours later that her daughter had finally come into the world.

  She’d had no visitors while on the ward, but that didn’t matter. Her beautiful, baby girl was beside her and she knew that she would be the best parent she could be for that small, supremely fragile, little person that she had created.

  A week later, she was given the keys to the flat and with some help from local charitable organisations, had managed to furnish it with the basics that she would need to build a life for her and her daughter.

  The furniture was old, and the appliances reconditioned, but they worked and that was all that she needed. Every day, she would look into the smiling face of her daughter and know that it would all work out fine.

  When the military came and put the tower block into lockdown, she’d been scared, but had stood up with the others and volunteered to represent her floor. She had too much to lose to sit on the side-lines and let others make all the decisions. She had to be there to ensure that her daughter's needs were met.

  “Hush, baby-girl,” she cooed as she rocked her daughter gently, adjusting the pink fluffy blanket that swaddled the small form. “Hush, don’t fuss.”

  She would be a good mum; she was determined to be. A tear ran down her cheek as her daughter squirmed in her arms. She’d done everything right, feeding her daughter and putting her down to sleep in the cot that sat beside her bed.

  They had gone to sleep together and when she woke, crying, Emmie had roused herself automatically unbuttoning her blouse. She reached, sleepily for her daughter, ready to feed her. It was only when her hand closed on the soft, furry, form did she realise something was wrong.

  With a scream of revulsion, she had thrown the rat against the wall with enough force to break its small body, but the damage was done. Still, she cleaned the bite marks as best she could and held her daughter close.

  Another tear fell as her daughters screaming grew higher more frenzied, her small body twisting and shaking in her arms. Emmie clutched her to her breast. Her hopes of seeing her daughter grow and laugh, to love and experience this great world she lived in, had been dashed.

  Still, she held that small, struggling form and wept silently as the storm raged outside and turned her daughters head towards her breast so that she could feed.

  Chapter 19

  Sarah knelt down beside the car and let out a soft sigh. Jason wasn’t doing well at all. His skin was clammy and pale. It seemed pretty likely that he was infected and there was nothing she could do about it.

  She shivered and pulled her coat tighter around her as the wind blew soaking wet strands of her hair across her face. With a shake of her head for the watching Kyra, she rose to her feet and approached the small group that were arguing nearby.

  Four men, each as angry and violent looking as the next. She didn’t know whether she should be more scared of them or the infected. Kyra, at least, seemed to share her concern and had kept her left hand pushed up beneath her coat as she grasped t
he knife she had hidden against her back.

  Anna was standing as close as she could to Kyra, looking to the strong-willed woman for safety from the men that were watching her with more interest than they should. Sarah touched the knife in her own pocket for reassurance.

  “Your boy bit?” the dreadlocked leader of the little group asked. “We ain’t gonna leave him to attack us when turns, you get me?”

  “He has an infection,” Sarah said, coolly. “But there’s nothing to say it’s that infection.”

  “Yeah, well if he can’t walk his own arse out of here, he’s no use to us, is he?”

  The leader laughed and two of his little lackeys chortled along with him. The fourth, Sarah noted, didn’t so much as smile and his attention was fixed on Kyra. She watched the other women through narrowed eyes and realised that Kyra’s gaze kept flicking to him too.

  Curious, she thought.

  “Look, this rain’s not going to last so perhaps we should discuss leaving?” Kyra said, ignoring the laughter. “You got rid of some of the infected, but I bet there’s more in the shopping centre. The bigger problem’s those rats.”

  “They’re just rats, darlin,” Bradley said. “Hungry fuckers but not a problem.”

  “You didn’t see what they did to our friend,” Sarah said, a touch of her anger entering in her tone. She couldn’t shake that image or the way his screams had followed them as they ran. “They’re infected and damned aggressive. They’ll swarm over you and eat you alive.”

  “Then we need to leave,” Peter said, finally speaking. “We run down to the van and we might have a chance.”

  “Or,” Kyra said, with a tight-lipped smile. “If one of you upstanding citizens knows how to hotwire a car, we can drive out of here.”

  “Where you gonna drive to, darlin?” Bradley asked, pursing his lips. “You got somewhere safe nearby?”

  “That’s our business.”

  “Yeah, well since we came all the way up here to help you out, maybe you should show a little appreciation.”

  “Great job you’ve done, thanks,” Kyra said, with a sneer.

  Bradley took a step towards her, his expression changing from one of lechery to anger in the blink of an eye. There was an air of menace to him that had Kyra tightening her grip on the knife she had hidden behind her back.

  “Listen here, bitch! You do as-“ His eye’s widened and his mouth hung open as a gasp sounded and then he dropped to his knees.

  Peter, behind him, pulled the bloody knife from Bradley’s back and turned to the two gang members who watched him with something close to fear in their eyes. He cocked an eyebrow, giving them the chance to offer a challenge but neither so much as moved and he turned back to Kyra.

  “You and I need to talk.”

  “Yeah, I know. Maybe when we’re away from here.”

  Sarah, looking from one to the other, shut her open mouth with a click of teeth that she was sure could be heard above the storm. She looked down at the dead gang leader and shook her head.

  “You know each other!”

  “A little,” Kyra admitted. “This is my husband.”

  “Your what!”

  “Later,” she said, not taking her eyes off of Peter.

  “You still carry your blade,” he said, eyeing her left arm like one would a venomous snake.

  “Yeah.”

  “Then I’ll keep back a bit.”

  “Probably a good idea.”

  Sarah watched them, not quite knowing what to say. Anna, wide-eyed, took a step away from Kyra and looked around, not quite sure what to do next.

  “Either of you two knows how to hotwire a car?” Peter asked, turning to look at the gang members.

  “Yeah, I do,” the taller of the two said.

  “Right then, hop to it,” Peter said, before looking back at Kyra. “I’ll stick with him. Once the car’s ready, we’ll go.”

  “Sure.”

  With that, he turned and gestured for the other two lads to follow him. They walked across the parking level, towards a trio of cars towards the far side. Kyra watched them walk for a moment before turning away, a smile playing on her lips that faded as she caught Sarah watching her.

  “What?”

  “Husband?”

  “We were young, and he was exciting. It didn’t end well and when he went away, I moved on.”

  “Looks like he hasn’t,” Sarah said, dryly.

  “Aye, well he’ll learn that he needs to,” she replied, smile widening again. “Now, how’s Jason really doing?”

  “Not well.” Sarah turned away. “I’ll keep an eye on him, let me know when the car’s ready.”

  “Better be quick,” Kyra said, looking up at the sky. “Storm’s starting to ease up.

  ****

  Peter kept his hands to his sides to stop them from shaking as he led the two young gang members across to the parked cars. The urge to vomit was almost more than he could bear, and he could feel the hot blood on his hands still.

  There was something different about killing the infected. There, it was fight or die, and you did what you had to do to survive. But he’d just murdered Bradley in cold blood and while his reasoning was just, he couldn’t seem to get the image of his knife entering the man’s back out of his mind.

  “Get to it,” he said, as they reached the cars.

  He kept his tone cold, hard, for to show weakness to them would be to invite them to attack him. He was sure of that. Bradley had ruled by fear as much as charisma and the two young men weren’t quite sure they could take Peter.

  If he showed weakness though, well, he was pretty sure they would turn on him in an instant.

  The taller of the former prisoners used his baton to smash the car's window and pulled open the door as Peter looked back at the women.

  Kyra.

  He knew she was living nearby but hadn’t for one moment expected to find her atop a parking structure in the freezing cold rain. Just seeing her had brought back a deluge of memories and as Bradley advanced on her, he’d known he couldn’t allow him to harm her.

  No, that was something he very badly wanted to do himself.

  His hands began to tremble, but not from fear, oh no. There was a burning anger there that needed to be released and he would do that as soon as he had the chance to make sure he could enjoy it.

  Three years of his life had been thrown away because of her. Locked up behind prison walls and the arrogant bitch hadn’t even bothered to leave the city. It was her fault that he’d ended up in Armley prison and that was something he would not forgive.

  “Got it!” the gang member crowed as the engine roared to life.

  “Good, move over, I’ll drive.”

  The car they had chosen was a fairly roomy grey Toyota. Even so, it would be a tight fit for everyone to fit into the vehicle, but Peter wasn’t willing to lose Kyra, not after just finding her again.

  He pulled up close to where the three women stood, and they all seemed to exchange looks before moving towards the car. Anna and Sarah climbed into the back, with the youngest woman sitting on the other's lap. That left enough room for Kyra to climb in behind the driver’s seat.

  “Your friend?” Peter asked, nodding towards the car where Jason was still strapped into his seat.

  “Didn’t make it,” Kyra said. “Just drive, yeah.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  The dark grey clouds had faded to a lighter grey, with the occasional break in them to allow a little dim sunlight through. The rain that had soaked them to the skin had let up and it had been some time since the last flash of lightning or rumble of thunder.

  It was time to move and time to get to someplace safe before nightfall. Peter turned to look at the three women and cocked an eyebrow.

  “Where to?”

  “Lovell Park Hill Flats,” Kyra said and looked at Sarah as the nurse hissed under her breath. “What? He knows where I live.”

  “Don’t worry,” Peter said, a smile tugging at t
he corners of his mouth. “I just want to get somewhere safe so I can have a nice long chat with my wife.”

  He drove down the ramp and into the parking structure, moving slowly over the bodies that were on the floor. The angry squeaks of the rats had all of them on edge, but then they were past and headed down the ramp to the next level.

  More rats, scurrying away as he flashed the cars lights. Their behaviour was beyond strange and Peter was inclined to believe they were as infected as the naked freaks that kept attacking them. He tried not to think of the implications of that as he guided that car down through the parking garage.

  At the bottom, he let the car roll to a stop just before the ramp that led outside. With a nervous look around for danger, he gestured at the others in the car.

  “Everyone out.”

  “What! Why?” Kyra asked as the others raised their own objections.

  “Because there’s a barricade at the bottom of this ramp that we aren’t getting past. We get out here and we use the prison van. It’s armoured and will be a lot safer.”

  “If we make it down there,” Kyra muttered, but pushed open the car door as Peter climbed out of his side.

  They didn’t hang around long, hurrying down the ramp and out into the dim light of day. There were no infected on the streets, which was a small mercy, and Peter nodded at the large white armoured van.

  “Kyra, you sit up front with me. Rest of you in the back.”

  The two gang members wasted no time rushing over to the back of the van. The taller of the two turned the handle and pulled the door open. He had a moment to let out a shriek of surprise before he was bowled off of his feet by a half-naked Trevor.

  No one seemed able to respond as the wiry, tattoo-covered inmate smashed the gang members head against the tarmac again and again. His skull broke with a sickening crunch and then Trevor rose to his feet, an evil hiss coming from him as his chest heaved rapidly.

  “Fuck!” Peter breathed, raising his knife.

  “Kill him!” Kyra snapped, hand reaching up to grip the hidden knife.

  As if in answer, Trevor leapt at her and with the grace of a ballerina, Kyra pirouetted to her right, with her left arm rising and falling as quick as a flash. As she stopped herself, turning to face him, Trevor took another step before blood burst from the gaping wound in his neck.