Chloe Zombie Apocalypse series (Book 2): The Journey (6 page)

“
T
hat’s really them
?”

“It’s really them.”

“Then what’re they—”

“I don’t know what they’re doing. Just that’s definitely the bandits. Definitely the ones who took our stuff. I’d recognise ‘um from miles away. So what we gonna do?”

Chloë looked down the hill at the bottom of the motorway bridge. Although the fallen monsters were still groaning behind her, and although the rest of her group were whispering to one another, she couldn’t take her focus away from the gates in the distance.

The metal gates with barbed wire on top surrounding a spacious area.

Inside the spacious area, tents. Parasols.

People.

Jackson cleared his throat. Pointed at the long-haired man lying back on the checkered deck chair. “He’s the one who shot Suzy.”

“But I thought Suzy—”

“Saw him shoot her in the stomach. Left her for the dead. Bleeding out. Screaming.”

Chloë looked at the man on the deck chair. He was topless. Hairy. And he was smiling. He didn’t look like the kind of man who’d murder somebody. He didn’t look like the kind of man who’d lead his group into Hopeforth, take everything they could.

But then she thought back to some of the other people she’d encountered. Some of the other faces she’d thought were friendly. Didn’t matter how anyone looked. Not anymore.

All that mattered was what you were willing to do to keep yourself alive.

And these people had destroyed Hopeforth.

“I say we go down there. Take one of ‘em hostage.”

Chloë shook her head. “We don’t have any guns.”

“They don’t know that. Besides, if they see a little girl with one arm just wander up to their gates, they’re hardly gonna just open fire are they?”

Chloë thought about what Jackson was saying. He wanted her to go down there. He wanted her to take one of them hostage, somehow. “How do you know they won’t just kill me?”

Jackson smiled. Shook his head. “Trust me. Last thing they’re gonna do to a little girl is kill her. Rare game in this world. Believe me.”

Chloë didn’t know exactly what Jackson meant. But she could tell from his smile that it wasn’t something nice.

“I’m not sure,” Chloë said.

“Just think about it. You get to go on down there. Take some of our weapons. Then drag one of ‘em up here. Bargaining chip.”

“Can’t we just… just walk past them?”

“What? Through there?”

Jackson pointed to the left. Chloë saw the trees. Thick, green trees. She knew what Jackson was saying. The last place she wanted to be right now was in the middle of a woods. She didn’t like the woods. She’d lost so much in the woods.

And she didn’t like becoming the person she used to be.

The lonely wanderer.

The girl of the woods.

“They’ll respect you. This lot. Especially after what just happened to Harvey.”

Chloë glanced at Jackson. Saw him scratching his neck, his smile wavering. “I… I couldn’t do anything for—”

“Oh I know that,” Jackson whispered. “But those people back there. They’re not as strong as you and me. Just look at them.”

Chloë glanced back. Saw Hassan and Anisha whispering to one another. Saw Dan tilting his head away from her right as she looked, arms folded. She didn’t see sadness at losing Harvey. She saw blame. And it made her stomach tingle. Made her wish she could go back and change things.

Made her wish she had someone else to talk to other than her dad.

Other than Jackson.

“If you want to win the respect of this group, you go down there and you intercept that group. It won’t be easy. But you do what you have to do. And we’ll be watching. We’ll be watching at all times. In case things go… awry.”

Chloë pushed her hair out of her face. “I just… My dad. He won’t—”

“Who’s in charge again? You or your dad?”

Chloë thought about what Jackson was saying. Felt herself growing more and more trapped. Her thirst increased. “I… I guess.”

“You go down there. You be the leader this group wants you to be. Then see how they look at you. See how they respect you.”

Chloë looked down at the metal fences. Cleared her throat.

“Get the weapons. Get one of them. And then we do what we have to. Cause you know we have to do what we—”

“Everything okay?”

Chloë’s muscles weakened when she heard her dad’s voice. She looked up at him. Couldn’t help but smile. A cloud lifted. A cloud of tension weighing down on her, wrapping around her.

She could see clearer now.

Jackson’s cheeks flushed. “Chloë and I were just—”

“We move around them,” Chloë said.

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

Chloë turned. Looked at the rest of her group. “I know these people attacked us. But they’re here now. They’re not moving on to Pwllheli. Not yet. So we move around them.”

Muttering amongst the group. Hassan stepped forward. “They killed Suzy. They killed Andre and Lorna—”

“We’ve no real weapons,” Chloë said. “And they have guns. Lots of guns. But we do have something they don’t have. We have a head start. A chance to push on to Pwllheli. So we’ve got to take that. Now we know we’re ahead of them, we’ve got to take it.”

She saw Alice rubbing her lips. Dave staring at nothing in particular.

“I know we lost people. But we don’t have what it takes to fight them. Not now. But when we do, we’ll be back here. When we have what we need, we’ll make sure we punish them. For what they did.”

She turned around. Looked down the hill.

“So which way?” Anisha asked.

Chloë took a deep breath. Licked her lips. “Into the woods, I guess.”

She led the way down the hillside of the motorway bridge.

Made her way to the woods.

She saw the look in Jackson’s eyes as she descended.

Saw them protruding out of his face as the rest of the group followed.

The hair on her arms lifted.

And then his eyes were normal again and everything was okay.

There’s nothing wrong. Everything’s okay. He understands.

But as she descended, as the group followed, she couldn’t shake the feeling Jackson was watching her.

Closely.

J
ackson felt
his face flushing even more with every step he took.

The baking mid-afternoon sun hid behind a thick layer of cloud now. But he felt warmer and stuffier than ever. His body was tense. He could taste sweat on his lips.

All because of that bitch.

That little bitch.

He looked ahead. Looked at Chloë. Looked at her, leading the rest of the gullible fucks, all high and mighty. And worst of all, he looked at the group itself. Looked at the way they were actually readily following her.

Did they really believe in her bullshit? Did they really think she could lead the group to Pwllheli?

No. Course they fucking didn’t. Who could?

“What’s the plan?”

He heard the whisper. Heard it from his left. Turned, saw Colin walking beside him. Colin. Fucking Colin. He was supposed to back him up. He was supposed to help him get Chloë out of the way.

And what had he done? Stood there, gawping.

Just like Arnold.

Just like the others.

“I dunno what the fucking plan is,” Jackson said. “Why don’t you tell me the fucking plan?”

Colin rubbed the back of his fat neck. “I… I just thought—”

“Good. You better fucking think. We need a bit of thinking round here.”

“We can… I guess we can use the guns.”

Jackson looked around. Held a finger to his mouth. “Don’t fucking mention the guns, okay?”

“Well I don’t see why you can’t just kill her. If you really want to get her out of the way.”

“And you expect everyone to just allow me to lead them, then? You expect them to just follow me… us, when we’ve killed a kid? Fucking hell, Colin. Fucking hell.”

Jackson’s entire body was tight. He saw the trees approaching but his head was fuzzy, aching. He remembered something his wife used to tell him. Something she told him soothed the pain of frustration before the world collapsed—before she died and
his
world collapsed.

“Deep breaths. Focus on your breathing. Nothing else matters. Nothing matters but you in the moment, simply being.”

He’d dismissed his wife at the time. Didn’t buy into any of that meditation mumbo-jumbo. Obviously, plenty did. Sammy was a qualified hypnotherapist and homeopathic nurse. Earned enough to pay the bills. Twice.

Jackson still went out and worked of course. Couldn’t have people thinking he was the house husband. Even though he technically was the inferior one.

He looked over his shoulder. Saw the motorway bridge in the distance. The sun was descending, the days getting gradually shorter. That place. The gated place with the tents and the people. That was the perfect opportunity to get rid of Chloë. He didn’t know that group. They didn’t look bad. But if they saw somebody wandering in trying to steal their equipment… well, Jackson knew how he’d react.

It was the perfect plan to get Chloë out of the way.

Then begin the recruitment drive.

“I don’t see why you can’t just… y’know. Follow. Like the rest of us.”

Jackson swung around. Felt his heart pounding. “You’re saying she’s a better leader than me?”

“No,” Colin said. His head lowered. “I didn’t—”

“Then maybe you should think about returning that gun. Hmm? Maybe if you think she’s a better leader than me, you should think about passing that weapon of yours on to someone else.”

“Jackson, I didn’t—”

Jackson stepped right up to Colin. Leaned into his face.

“I’ll tell you why we can’t just follow. Harvey. Andre. Suzy. The people we’ve lost following this inept little bitch. That’s why we can’t just keep on following.”

“But Suzy—”

“I know. I know what I did to Suzy.” The memory returned to Jackson’s mind. Seeing the zombies approaching. Luring Suzy outside with promise of a discovery. Pushing her into them.

“I know what I did to her. But I did it for a reason. And I wouldn’t have had to do it at all if that little… if Chloë had told us about the transmission in the first place.”

Colin opened his mouth to respond. A moment later, it closed.

“What we’re doing here,” Jackson said. “We’re doing it because we’re sick of losing people. We’re doing it because we’re sick of being weak. Sick of this—this suicide mission. This little cripple’s fantasy. We’re doing it because we want to survive. And if we want to survive, we need to expand. And if we want to expand, we need to—”

“Get her out the way,” Colin said.

Jackson nodded. He wiped the sweat from his top lip. He shouldn’t lash out at Colin. Colin was one of
his.
Colin respected the leader Jackson could be. He needed to appreciate that. To be grateful for that.

“So… what
do
we do?”

Jackson stopped. Looked up at the mouth of the woods. Listened to the branches brushing against one another in the wind. Saw the darkness of thick tree covering ahead. Heard movement beyond the blackness. Felt eyes watching.

And then he looked at Chloë. Caught a glance. Smiled at her.

“We go through the woods,” Jackson said.

He patted Colin on the back. Colin flinched.

“Little girls get lost in the woods all the time. Right?”

C
hloë did
everything she could to ignore the feeling that she was being watched.

It was still mid-afternoon, but you couldn’t be blamed for thinking it was evening. Chloë forgot just how much the trees of the woodlands sheltered her from the harshness of the sun. Good job she’d spent so long surviving in the woods. She wasn’t sure she’d have made it if she hadn’t been sheltered.

But these woods were thicker than the ones she’d lived in.

The darkness was intense.

Sharp pine needles sneaked between her toes. Made her wish for shoes.

And Chloë swore she saw movement, shuffling, in every direction.

“Stay close,” Chloë whispered. Her voice echoed through the woods. It was so silent. Too silent, in a way. She felt the same way about these woods as she’d felt about Hopeforth when they first got there. It wasn’t a good feeling. Wasn’t a good feeling at all.

But it was here, or risk being seen by the bandits. The other people that Jackson told her about. The ones that stole from her group, that ransacked Hopeforth.

She didn’t want to cross paths with them.

Not just because of who they were. But because of
what
they were. People.

The darkness grew thicker the further they walked. The breeze calmed. It was much cooler in these woods. Some of the group seemed to be liking it more than others. Dave and Dan joked amongst themselves, like they used to when they were happy. Alice chatted with Arnold. Even Jackson and that weird man called Colin had smiles on their faces.

Which was good. She needed people to be happy.

She needed people to believe they were going to make it.

“I don’t think Jackson was telling the truth back there.”

Dad’s voice startled Chloë. She looked to her left. Saw him by her side. He wasn’t looking right at her. Just looking ahead. Looking towards the growing mass of trees.

“What—what do you mean?”

He glanced at her. Then turned quickly away. “What he said. About that group being the ones who stole from us. I don’t believe he was telling the truth.”

Chloë saw something move through the branches on her right. But the moment she settled her gaze on it, it stopped. Like it wasn’t even there at all.

“How do you know?”

“I don’t know,” Dad whispered, keeping up with Chloë’s pace. “But something… something just doesn’t seem right, to me. Something doesn’t seem right at all. It seems off. Jackson. He’s…” He lowered his voice some more. “He’s never been the warmest of men. Not with any of us. Right?”

“You noticed his change too then.”

“Course I did. Guy’s suddenly become moderately reasonable. That’s a turnaround. And I don’t like it. I’m not sure what to make of it.”

Dad stopped. And it took Chloë a moment to realise exactly why he’d stopped.

But then she saw it.

She saw it moving through the branches just ahead.

A shadow.

She heard the group still walking, still chattering. Held up her hand.

“What…”

And then they stopped.

They went silent.

Together, they watched the shadow drift through the trees.

Chloë’s heart picked up. She tried to focus on the shadow. Tried to squint to see it more clearly. But she couldn’t make it out. If it was a monster, it would’ve groaned by now, surely. If it was a person… then what were they doing out here?

She watched in silence.

Everyone watched in silence.

And then she heard the scream.

It was loud. Ear-splittingly loud. Somewhere to the left. No, maybe to the right.

She looked around. Looked back at the group.

“The fuck was that?” Hassan said.

And then she heard it again.

There was something about the scream. Something… familiar about it. A quiver rose in Chloë’s stomach. She looked around. Tried to find the shadow again. The shadow that drifted through the woods.

But it was gone.

“I’ll repeat,” Hassan said. “What the fuck was that?”

Chloë looked up at her dad. He looked back at her, blinking rapidly.

She reached into her pocket.

Pulled out the knife.

“Keep going.”

She walked, but she didn’t hear any footsteps behind her.

“You expect us to just keep walking?” Dave said.

Chloë nodded. “Whoever made that noise is gone now—”

“Chloë, I like you,” Dave said, stepping closer. “You know I like you. But you told us before. We don’t leave people behind. So if there’s someone out there needs help, maybe we should…”

Dave didn’t have to finish his sentence. Chloë knew exactly what he wanted to say. Maybe they should investigate. Find out where the scream came from.

But as always, the suggestion made her stomach feel rock hard. Made her want to run away. Because she couldn’t. She couldn’t investigate. Because it could mean trouble.

No. It
would
mean trouble. Because other people were always trouble.

“We need to press on. We’ll take a right. Away from the scream.”

A few curses from the group. A few groans.

Jackson didn’t say a word. Didn’t show a glimmer of emotion.

To think of it, Chloë swore she saw him smile.

She carried on. Moved forward. Her dad stayed by her side. He hadn’t said a word since the scream. Chloë knew he would eventually. And she knew exactly what he’d say. That they needed to help people. Needed to let other people in.

But he was wrong.

He was wrong, because he hadn’t seen what she saw.

He hadn’t been through what she’d been through at the hands of other people.

The mud in the woods got thicker, slipperier. The wind dropped even more. When Chloë looked right up, she couldn’t even see the sky anymore. But she knew they’d reach the other side of this woods eventually. And if Dad was right, they’d put them on a road right towards Pwllheli.

A long road. A dangerous road.

But a start.

“Oh shit,” Dan said, rolling his trousers up to his knees. “Mud. Always knew I shoulda brought my wellies along with me.”

“Look on the bright side,” Dave said, wading along in front of his partner. “Give you a chance to get
some
colour on those pasty legs of yours.”

The pair of them laughed. Chloë saw Arnold tut, roll his eyes, like he did whenever Dave and Dan laughed around.

“Now now, Danny boy. You know damn well there’s a difference between fake tan and—”

Dave didn’t finish speaking.

Something grabbed him.

Something dragged him into the trees.

He didn’t fight back. Didn’t even scream.

He just disappeared.

Chloë stared at the place Dave had stood. Looked at the mud splattered over Dan, over Mandy.

She looked at the rest of the group, their wide eyes looking back at her.

“What—” Dan started.

Then, the scream.

Chloë felt butterflies in her chest. The scream. Not Dave’s scream. But a scream identical to the one she’d heard before.

To her left.

To her right.

To her—

“Fuck it. Dave!”

She saw Dan drag himself out of the mud. Saw him hurtle towards the trees to her right.

No. This couldn’t happen. The group couldn’t split. Not again.

“Wait!” she shouted.

She ran in Dan’s direction. Slipped her dad’s grip. Rushed towards the trees. She heard footsteps behind her as she pursued Dan.

“It’s okay, Dave!” Dan shouted. “I’m coming!”

And then she heard another scream. Only this time it was further away. Much further away.

“Chloë, wait!” Dad shouted.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

She kept on running through the thickening trees.

Plunging further into the darkness.

She looked around for Dan. He couldn’t be far away. And neither could Dave.

No.

Something had got Dave.

Something had dragged him into the woods.

Something had—

She stopped running when she crashed into something.

She fell onto her back. Felt cold mud seep through her cloak.

It took her a moment to realise the thing she’d crashed into was Dan.

She stood up. Walked over to Dan. He was staring at something. Staring at something directly ahead.

She walked over to him. Put a hand on his arm. “Dan, what’s…”

Dan turned around.

Blood drooled out of his neck.

His skin had gone grey and pale.

He was looking right at Chloë.

With dead eyes.

Chloë tried to stagger back. Tried to grab her knife.

But Dan got to her first.

Pushed her to the ground.

Pressed her into the mud.

And as Chloë struggled, as she tried to fight her way free, Dan did something.

Something that made black spots appear in her eyes.

That made everything else—sound, feeling, time—disappear into the background.

Dan—Monster Dan—opened his mouth.

Let out a high-pitched scream.

Beside him, Dave emerged. Windpipe dangling down his neck. Intestines trailing out of his torso.

He looked at Chloë. Looked at her on the forest floor.

And then he let out an identical scream.