Chloe Zombie Apocalypse series (Book 1): Chloe (8 page)

C
hloë screamed
when the woman called Alice poured alcohol on her chest.

“Shut the fuck up, kid, seriously,” she said. “You’ve caused enough friction as it is. Best not to go wailing like a baby right now if you wanna live.”

Chloë couldn’t help it. The pain from the crossbow bolt was agonising. It felt like the entire front of her chest had burst open. The crossbow bolt was still poking out of it. The woman was worried about pulling it out because she wasn’t a medical expert. Aiden, the blond man who’d tried to kill her, was a doctor.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get a bolt in your head,” Alice said, screwing the cap back on the bottle of clear fluid. The air was thick with the smell of pure alcohol. “Best course of action right now would be to be open and honest about what you’re doing here. Then, Aiden might just take a look at you.”

Chloë held back her tears. The tent she was in—the supply tent—was gently lit by a dim lantern-style torch. It was cool in here. Or maybe that was just the wound making it feel cool.

Didn’t help that she was cuffed up to a metal cabinet, ankles tied together.

“Kid, I’m trying to help you here,” Alice said. She grabbed Chloë’s chin. Chloë flinched. “I … I know you find that hard to believe. But I’m not the bad guy here.
You
were the one who came storming into our camp. Pointless trying to steal the bike, anyway. We only had one good one, and that got nicked. Other one’s been out of action for weeks. But fuck. Opening our gates. You could’ve killed someone. You get that? You could’ve killed someone. And we’ve already lost…”

Alice stopped. She turned away. The words were caught in her throat. Chloë saw the look in her eyes. She knew who Alice was talking about. The man on the motorbike. The one the CoY people had burned.

Alice looked back at Chloë. Half-smiled. “If you don’t talk, I can’t promise we’ll help you. I … I’m sorry.”

Outside, Chloë heard arguing. She heard two voices. The voices of two men.

One of them was Aiden, the guy who’d shot her.

“You know how they work, Trev. They use the kids.”

“But there’s no sign she—”

“She sneaked into our fucking camp! What more proof do you need?”

Alice and Chloë looked at one another. Chloë didn’t know what the two men were talking about. All she was sure about was the amount of agony she was in.

All she was sure about was that these people couldn’t be trusted, either. Because one of them had shot her.

One of them tried to kill her.

That wasn’t going away.

“Did they send you?” Alice asked.

Chloë looked into her auburn eyes. Alice’s cherry-red hair was tied back in a bun. Chloë shook her head.

“Then who sent you?”

“No … nobody sent me.”

Alice frowned. Her eyes narrowed. “Then what’s a little girl like you doing out in the woods in the middle of the night?”

Chloë wanted to answer her. She wanted to explain the truth. She wanted to explain how she’d been travelling with another group up until three, four months ago. How things had gone to shit. How she’d been surviving in the woods ever since.

But that was her strength. Her secret strength. And letting other people in on the truth about herself was unwise. Because word spread. Rumours spread.

And she needed to stay secret. She needed to stay low-key.

Especially now finding her dad was involved.

“Look, those two men out there—Aiden and Trev—they’re good people. I’ve spent enough time with them to know that much. You might think Aiden’s unwarranted in shooting you in the fucking chest and choosing not to treat you. But the truth is, he’s perfectly justified. He’s scared. We lost … we lost one of our own today. Barry. A good guy. He…”

“I know what happened to him,” Chloë said.

The words clearly took Alice by surprise. But they surprised Chloë, too. She didn’t
sound
like she even remembered. She wasn’t the young kid she’d been just months ago.

“You know what they do to people?” Alice asked.

Chloë swallowed a lump in her throat. “I know they … they burn people.”

“Then you’ll know what they do to kids. You’ll know why … why we’re worried. Right?”

Chloë didn’t answer. She didn’t know what Alice was talking about. She knew some of the men she’d come across earlier were younger than others. Seth. He looked quite young.

And she knew Dan had been particularly keen to do …
things
with her.

But why was that a worry to Alice?

Why was this group so afraid of her?

Alice sighed. Lowered her head. The pain in Chloë’s chest started to sting again.

“For what it’s worth, I believe you. I believe you aren’t with them. But Aiden might not see it that way. So you need to bear with me, kid. You need to bear with me.”

Alice stood. Picked up the lantern. Walked over to the tent entrance.

She stopped. Turned around. Lifted the lantern.

“Do you have a name?” Alice asked.

A few seconds passed. The more passed by, the longer they stretched out.

Chloë didn’t say a word.

Alice nodded. “I’ll be a moment.”

The second Alice stepped out of the tent, Chloë released a shaky breath.

She looked down at the bolt. It poked out of the middle of her chest. It wasn’t too deep. There wasn’t a lot of blood. But she was worried about what would happen when they pulled the bolt out. And clearly Alice was worried about that too. Which was why they needed Aiden.

The man who’d put the bolt in her chest in the first place.

Chloë’s head spun. The darkness made her dizzy. She tried to focus on the gentle breeze creeping in through the opening of the tent. Tried to think back to that diary. Her dad’s diary.

She hoped he was still out there.

She hoped he was safe.

But more than anything, she hoped she’d find him.

She thought about Alice. About Aiden and Trev. About the guy they’d lost called Barry. And Chloë wondered whether she could’ve avoided all this mess if she’d just trusted them. If she’d just walked up to the camp with her hands in the air and been honest.

If she’d just told them who she was. What she was after.

But the truth was, Aiden had still shot her.

He still didn’t want to treat her.

He was worried about her. Worried about kids for some reason. Something to do with the CoY people.

What was he so afraid of?

The tent fluttered open.

Chloë expected to see Alice standing there.

Instead, she saw Aiden.

He was tall. Blond. Had a serious face. A deep scar under his chin. He was wearing a white shirt that was unbuttoned down to the middle. Black shorts. Brown sandals.

He lifted his lantern and the tent was illuminated.

“Alice says you need that bolt looking at,” he said.

He walked over to the cabinet. Chloë could smell the sweat coming off him. Hear the reluctance in his voice.

She didn’t say a word.

He crouched right in front of her. Lifted the clear bottle of alcohol at her side. Looked at the bolt as it poked out of her chest.

“Looks to me like I hit you right between your ribs. No major arteries. No organs. Nothing like that.”

He poured some of the alcohol down Chloë’s chest.

She clenched her teeth together as the burning intensified.

Aiden grabbed the back of the bolt. Tightened his grip around it.

“Luckily for you, I hit you right where you wanted me to hit you to stand the best chance of survival.”

He yanked the bolt away.

She heard a crack.

Felt her skin tear open.

The bolt split away from Chloë’s chest.

Chloë ground her teeth so hard she felt her back molars shift. Her head spun. The agony filled every inch of her body. Sour bile filled her throat.

“You’ve been a very lucky girl,” Aiden said.

He wiped his hands on his shorts.

Looked into Chloë’s eyes.

And then he lifted the crossbow bolt.

Pressed the sharp edge to the top left of Chloë’s chest.

Pushed.

“But nobody has to know that,” he whispered.

The bolt stabbed through her skin.

Moved towards her racing heart.

C
hloë felt
the sharp tip of the crossbow bolt slice through her skin right above her heart.

“I—My name’s Chloë!”

She felt the pressure stop. Blood trickled down her chest. Aiden’s hand shook. He looked at her, green eyes lit up by the gloomy torchlight inside the tent. He kept the bolt in place, the stinging pain of a new cut joining the agony of the open chest wound.

“I…” Chloë said, heart racing, mouth dry, mind spinning. “My name’s Chloë. I … I’ve been alone in these woods for—for three months. Or maybe four months. I don’t know. I lose count.”

Aiden watched her. His hands growing shakier.

More blood spilled down Chloë’s chest.

Her teeth chattered together as she took in a lungful of alcohol-laced air. “I … I was with a group. From October to March I was with a group. We—we got separated a few times. But we always ended up together. Until…”

She thought back to the day her association with Riley’s group ended.

The day she turned her back on their home in Manchester—a walled city, destroyed and ravaged by a rival group.

The day she started relying on herself and no one else.

The day she turned her back on humanity.

“I … I know. About the people. The people with the—the CoY markings. But—but I swear. I swear I’m not with them. One of them, he—he hurt me. The one who … the one who burned your friend. Barry.”

Aiden kept the bolt in place.

Just a nudge away from ripping through Chloë’s chest muscles.

Piercing her heart.

She looked into his eyes. Looked into his green, bloodshot eyes. “I … I’m sorry. For breaking into your camp. But I just needed supplies. I needed supplies because … the people. The CoY people. I think they have my dad.”

Aiden didn’t say a word. He just stared at her. Stared at her in the silent dark of night. The torchlight flickered, clearly in need of replacement batteries.

And then he pulled the bolt away.

Poured some more of that stinging alcohol down Chloë’s chest.

Dabbed the wounds with cotton. Put some antiseptic onto it. Bandaged them up.

He didn’t say a word as he cleaned Chloë up. But Chloë figured the very fact he
was
cleaning her up was a good thing.

He didn’t look her in the eye.

Didn’t acknowledge her wincing.

Like she wasn’t even there.

The only time he did speak was when he held a few pills in front of Chloë’s mouth. “Antibiotics. They’ll help stave off the infection. Pain meds are limited so you’ll forgive me if I don’t use them on you.”

Chloë kept her mouth shut. Stared at the two white tablets in Aiden’s hand.

“Come on, Chloë,” he said. “If I wanted to kill you, I’d’ve rammed that bolt into your heart two minutes ago.”

Good point.

Chloë swallowed the pills. Aiden washed it down with some bottled water. When she’d gulped the pills down, coughing a little, he reached behind her back. Unlocked her cuffs.

Then he untied the rope from around her feet.

He stepped away. Looked down at her in the glow of the dimming lantern. “Come on,” he said. “Get up.”

Chloë didn’t know what to think. Part of her wanted to stay put. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to face whatever Aiden had lined up for her.

But she knew she couldn’t just stay in here. She couldn’t be a prisoner.

She followed Aiden to the tent opening. Alice and Trev were outside. Chloë saw Alice release a visible exhalation of breath. Trev put his hands behind his head, whistled through his teeth.

“Is she okay?” Alice asked.

Aiden put a hand on the base of Chloë’s neck. Squeezed. Pushed her along like she was some kind of vehicle. “The bolt hit her right in the pectorals. Didn’t touch any arteries or organs.”

“Shit. You’re a worse shot than I thought,” Trev said.

“Maybe I meant to hit her there.”

Aiden pushed her towards Alice. Towards Trev. He moved his hand away from her neck. Smacked her gently across the head, like he was merely batting away a fly.

“Her name’s Chloë. She’s a tough little bitch. But I’m pretty sure she’s not one of them.”

She saw Alice nod. Saw a smile grow on Trev’s chubby face. She saw these people and she felt like … like she could trust them. Like they really were good people.

She felt like maybe they could help her.

“But as we all know, ‘pretty sure’ isn’t good enough. Not in this world.”

He put his hand on Chloë’s back.

Pushed her away from Alice. Away from Trev.

Towards the gate.

Chloë didn’t understand. She didn’t know whether Aiden was helping her or not. He’d saved her. He’d nearly killed her and she’d opened up. She’d told him the truth. She’d told him who she was.

So why was he pushing her towards the gate?

He put the key into the gate lock. Chloë looked over her shoulder. Saw Alice and Trev looking on. They weren’t coming to help her. Weren’t walking over to her.

They were just watching.

Watching, silent, in the glow of a lantern.

Aiden pulled out Chloë’s hand. He put something into it. Something heavy. A rucksack. A black rucksack.

And then he lifted Chloë’s chin.

“You take a pill when the sun rises, when it’s in the middle of the sky, and when it sets. You do that for seven days. Rest plenty. If the wound’s still burning by then, well, I’m sorry to have to say that you’re pretty much fucked.”

Chloë looked down at the rucksack. Opened it up. Saw a tablet box in there. A bottle of water. A couple of Cadbury chocolate bars. Something wrapped in tin foil. And a knife.

She looked back up at Aiden. “I … I don’t—”

“You listen to me, Chloë. You listen to me loud and clear. I don’t ever want to see your face around our camp again. Do you understand me? Let’s call it a ten-metre radius. If I see you inside that ten-metre radius in future, for any reason at all, I’ll put a bolt between your eyes. I mean that. And don’t think for a moment my friends won’t, either. We’ve been through enough shit. Seen enough kids turn to the CoY. I’m letting you go now because something inside me tells me you’re being honest. But I can’t ever know you’ll be that same girl if you come back here. Not after the things I’ve seen. Not after the things I’ve seen CoY do.”

Chloë stared into Aiden’s eyes. She felt pressure building up behind her eyelids. Felt tears, a swelling in her throat. She wanted to beg. Wanted to beg them to help her. To let her stay with them. To help her find her dad.

Then she looked over Aiden’s shoulder. Saw Alice and Trev. Only they weren’t looking back at Chloë. They were staring at the ground. Like Chloë wasn’t there. Like she didn’t exist.

Just like she thought she’d wanted.

“Go. Now. Before I take that bag away from you. And don’t ever come back here. I mean that, Chloë. I mean it dearly. Good luck.”

Aiden pulled open the gate.

Chloë looked outside. Stared into the darkness. Saw the thick black silhouettes of trees. In the distance, she heard groans. Dogs barking. Howling in the night.

She looked back over her shoulder. Back at the cabin. The tent. The motorbike.

She looked down at the rucksack. Looked down at it, tears dripping to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just —”

“You will be sorry if you come back here.”

She looked up at Aiden. Looked into his bloodshot eyes. Waited for him to crack. For him to tell her he was being stupid. To say he’d help.

He didn’t.

He didn’t crack at all.

Chloë swallowed the sour taste of vomit down her throat.

She took in a sharp, stuttery breath as salty tears trickled down her face.

She lifted the rucksack.

Put it over her shoulder.

Stared out into the vast darkness.

And then, with her eyes firmly ahead, she walked.

Alone.

Completely and utterly alone.