Dead Days: The Complete Season Two Collection (3 page)

He gripped the shrapnel. Gripped it and dug his teeth into his lips. His heart pounded. His head ached. He had to get this done. The groans were getting closer. Eighty feet. Seventy feet.

He had to get this done.

Three.

Two.

One.

Now.

He yanked the shrapnel with all of his strength. Unlike the movies, it didn’t come out as cleanly as he expected.

In fact, it didn’t come out at all.

He looked down at his hands. He had a piece of bloody, sharp, rusty metal in his hand, but it was the same shape as it was when it was in his leg.

And there was still something in his leg, which bled and oozed down the sides of his torn trousers now.

He’d only snapped the edge of the shrapnel off. He’d only snapped the fucking edge off.

He looked up. His hands shook as he held the broken-off shrapnel. The creatures were fifty, forty, thirty feet away now. He had to be quick. He had to get to higher land and he had to get to the woods and into shelter. He had no idea what was in there, but he had to get away from here. He had to be anywhere but‌—‌

As he tried to run, this time, his right leg collapsed completely underneath him, blood pooling out onto the pebbles.

Riley’s head hit the solid floor of pebbles beneath him hard. Very hard. So hard that he wasn’t sure whether the stars above were actual stars or just stars in his eyes. He could feel himself drifting again. Drifting away as the pain from his leg swallowed up his entire body. Drifting away, back onto the boat, back on the boat with Pedro, and Claudia, and Chloë, and Anna.

Anna.

Before he could sink further into the thoughts, two creatures appeared above him.

They moved closely towards him. Tumbled down towards his body.

Fuck. Focus. Focus. Focus.

He swung his right hand around, which had the piece of sharp shrapnel in it, and smacked the first creature clean in the temple. A splat of blood and skull echoed against the pebbles as the creature went flying to the side and onto the ground.

The second creature grabbed his arm. The arm he had the shrapnel in.

He could see its yellow, sharp teeth getting closer to the bare flesh of his forearm. He could see its eyes, wide and focused, groaning as it got closer and closer and closer…‌

Riley pulled himself upright. Pulled himself through the sharp, searing pain in his leg. He grabbed the shrapnel with his left hand and pushed it over his forearm so that the creature’s teeth screeched against it as it went in to bite, like cutlery on a plate.

He pushed the creature back. Pulled himself forward, even though he could feel the blood oozing from his leg, and he pushed it further back until he was the one on top of it and he was looking down at it.

As the creature struggled for a bite of whatever part of Riley it could get, Riley moved the shrapnel back into his right hand and smacked it against the creature’s forehead.

And then he smacked it again.

And again.

And again.

Every time he hit it, the creature was knocked back just as hard against the solid rock pebbles. Its head was cracking to pieces, blood painting the rocks like some kind of morbid landscape art piece.

“You did this,” Riley shouted as he plummeted the shrapnel further and further into the creature’s head. “You fucking did this…‌‌You…‌‌fucking…‌‌did…‌‌this…‌”

He realised the creature had long ago gone silent. He panted. His arm was covered in blood‌—‌the blood of the creature. The creature’s head looked like it had merged with the pebbles below, a mash of flesh and brain and broken teeth.

He climbed from on top of the creature and, slowly but surely, managed to stand on two feet. The pain in his leg was burning and searing. He could feel blood trickling out of it. He had a deep sense in his gut of what was going to happen to him. He didn’t know any first aid for anything of this level, and he didn’t have a clue how effective tying something around the wound would be.

He knew what was going to happen to him. He was going to pass out, just like he had before the creatures attacked him, and he was going to die, right here wherever he was.

He gulped, took a deep breath, and staggered up the pebbles towards the darkness of the woods. A trail of blood dripped to the rocks beneath him with every tiny, meek step he took.

But he had to go to the woods. Go into the woods and, like an animal, find somewhere comfortable to die.

He didn’t want that to happen. He was terrified. More terrified of death than a life even in a world like this. That’s why his suicide attempt a few years back didn’t add up, not even with himself. He was frightened to death just thinking of the unknown.

But what choice did he have now?

The walk through the pitch black of the woods was long, difficult and absolutely fucking terrifying.

He could hear all sorts of things around him. Hear the branches of the trees creaking as the wind blew against them. He could hear rustling up ahead; the sound of little footsteps. But no matter where he looked, he couldn’t see a thing. Nothing but the partly moonlit sky above.

But he wouldn’t have to see for very long. Not long left, now.

The further he got into the woods, the steeper the path seemed to be going. Fuck, he’d probably pass out and die before he even found a place comfortable enough to die in. He’d probably die before he reached the top of this hill.

Deep breaths, Riley. Come on. You can do this. Keep moving.

Just before he’d got into the woods, he’d made the best attempt he could at wrapping his shirt around his leg. It didn’t seem to have worked‌—‌blood had already soaked through the material. And now he was freezing. His lips were cold as ice. His teeth chattered, rattling his skull. If the blood loss didn’t kill him, hypothermia would. Typical. Survive a month of a zombie apocalypse and end up dying of the frigging cold. Just typical.

A rustling up ahead. Larger this time. Larger than the small, presumably animal footsteps. He looked up. Looked to his left and to his right, but he couldn’t see a thing. Just the dark, tall silhouettes of the trees, watching him, peering down at him, judging him.

And then, a light.

He wasn’t sure how far away it was because it was hard to judge distance in this place. But there it was. A small, round light, shining up ahead, up the top of the path.

He took a step forward. It could be one of his group. It could be Pedro, or Anna or Claudia or Chloë. It could be one of them.

He stopped. It could be another group. An outsider.

Somebody like Ivan.

But fuck. He was dying here. He was dying, and he wouldn’t know until he‌—‌

The light disappeared.

Riley froze on the spot as he was engulfed in complete darkness again. The light had gone. Shit. Whatever it was, they didn’t know he was out here. They could help him. They could help him, but only if they knew he was here.

“Hey!” he shouted and crept a bit faster up the steep path. “Hey! Please, I…‌‌I need help. Please.”

He heard himself in his mind. What the fuck was he doing? If there were any creatures in here‌—‌which he assumed there would be after the confrontation on the beach‌—‌they’d be all over him in no time.

But he didn’t have much choice. He had to try to survive. Even if it meant dying and coming back undead trying.

“Hey!” he shouted again, taking another step.

This time, his foot didn’t hit the ground.

It went right through into an open space. All of his weight followed. All of the weight that he’d put on his good leg followed, and before he knew it, his whole body was falling down this empty space, falling off the path, falling into whatever fate lay below.

He felt the smack on the right side of his body. It winded him, like a strong punch to the gut. He turned over onto his back, coughing and spluttering again, unable to stop, unable to resist.

The pain was intense and all through his body now. He couldn’t move. He was still, completely still as he looked up at the starry sky and the tops of the trees, and he watched, waited as his vision blurred, waited as he passed through into whatever awaited him after life.

As his eyes closed, he swore he saw a little light again, just above his head.

Chapter Three

The searing pain in his head was still there.

Wait. He could feel pain. In his head and…‌‌and shit, still in his leg. His heart picked up in pace. He could
feel
. He should be dead. Had he just drifted in and out of consciousness? Was he dying? Was this what dying felt like?

He opened his eyes and immediately regretted doing so.

It was light above him. The light. It must’ve been that light. The light at the end of the tunnel.

Or the light he’d seen in the distance. Maybe they were the same thing. Maybe he’d been dying all along. He tried to ease his eyes open. He was ready to stare into it now. Ready to go. Ready to…‌

When he opened his eyes this time, there wasn’t a light in front of him.

There was a person.

“Welcome back to reality, bruv.”

Riley blinked a few times to try to get rid of the blurriness from his vision. He eased himself forward and rubbed his eyes. Then he looked at the person again. Checked to see he hadn’t been imagining things. Checked to see he wasn’t going completely insane.

He was still there.

“Pedro?” Riley said.

Pedro smiled. “Well who were you expectin’? St. Peter at the Gates of Heaven? If he is the…‌‌well. The dude who lets people in heaven. Not that we’ll be finding out any time soon with the shit we’ve done.”

Riley looked around. He was in a kind of ridge. At the side of him, he could see tree roots shooting out of a wall of dirt. He looked up. Daylight. Daylight in the forest. Birds were singing. The wind was blowing, but not as strong as last night. Gentle. Pleasant.

“How did you…‌‌What has‌—‌”

A sharp pain in his leg as he tried to move. He looked down at it and saw that it was bandaged with what must’ve been the piece of material missing from Pedro’s jacket. There was no sign of blood on the makeshift bandage, but he could still feel the foreign object in his leg.

“Yeah, I’d be careful with that leg,” Pedro said. “Did my best to close the wound for now, but…‌‌Well. The shrapnel. There’s not a lot I can do with the limited tools we have on offer, you know? Anyway, you should drink.” He handed Riley a small metal whisky flask. “Good job I keep that thing in my pocket at all times. And good job I only had water in it.”

Riley opened the lid of the whisky flask and poured some of it down his throat.

“Woah, woah, mate.” Pedro yanked the flask away from Riley, frowning. “Save some for me.” He drank some of the water and let out a satisfying gasp after he’d finished. “Don’t know how long we’re going to have to make it last for.”

Riley eased further forward and looked around. He was definitely in some sort of ditch. “Where…‌‌Where am I? And how did you…‌?”

“Front cabin of the boat crashed in to the south,” Pedro said, pointing to his left. “I was lucky, really. The whole thing came apart and for a while, it was just me. But I just rode the waves and then rode the tide and‌—‌bam. Here we are. Oi, want any help there?”

Riley gripped the root of a tree that poked from the dirt wall of the ridge and pulled himself upright. His right leg was weak and shaky, but he wanted to walk. He never thought he’d walk again, not after how it ended in the darkness when he’d last been awake. He needed to walk again.

“Anyway, I got hassled by a few goons down by the coast, but I managed to shake them. Made my way into the woods. Figured I’d make my way to higher ground. Luckily I always carry a little torch around with me for when I need…‌‌needed to piss on the boat. So yeah. At least I could see my way.”

The light. The light that Riley had seen in the woods. It was Pedro. All along, it was Pedro.

“And then I hear a little whimper behind me as I’m wandering through the woods and…‌‌well, here we are. In the very ditch you stumbled into last night. But fair play for calling out to me. You’d be dead now if it wasn’t for me. And, well. I hate to scare you, but…‌‌that leg. It isn’t going to get any better in that condition. You need to seriously start thinking about, well, options.”

“Options?” Riley said. “What option do I have?”

Pedro opened his mouth to respond then shrugged. “I dunno. I guess what I’m trying to say is you aren’t going to survive with a wound like that forever. Far from forever. So just…‌‌well. Go easy and be prepared, y’know?”

Riley nodded. Pedro was right. He wasn’t going to survive a wound like this out here. Not without a doctor.

Anna was a doctor.

“Have you seen any of the others?” Riley asked as Pedro and he made his way slowly out of the ridge and in the direction of the beach.

Pedro lowered his head and coughed. He looked at Riley for a split second, then turned away again. “I er…‌‌I didn’t think I was going to find you, to be honest. You…‌‌You’re lucky to be here. Just remember that.”

Riley stopped and looked directly at Pedro. “I asked you a question. Have you seen any of the others?”

Pedro stared back at Riley for a few seconds before letting out a deep chesty sigh. “I didn’t find any of the others exactly. But…‌‌Well. You should see it for yourself. I don’t want to be the one to make your mind up for you, bruv.”

Riley narrowed his eyes. “What do you‌—‌”

“Just down the coast to the north,” Pedro said. He pointed to Riley’s right. “Only got to have a quick look because I didn’t want to leave poor old you on your own. But you should take a proper look. We both should.”

Riley followed with his eyes where Pedro was pointing and he saw it. A grey, metallic object, twisted and contorted beyond recognition. A bit of red paint was spread across the front of the metal.

Red paint or blood.

“Is that what I think it is?” Riley said.

“If you think it’s the dining area of our boat, then yes, it is.”

Riley lifted the wooden seat up and examined it. A seat he’d sat on so many times the last week at sea. A seat he’d sat at to eat freshly caught fish, or sat at to play cards, or to drink one of Pedro’s finest whiskeys at.