Dead Days: The Complete Season Two Collection (30 page)

Claudia watched the fences. Every few minutes, a guard appeared. There was always a blind moment or two, though. They were obviously busy on the other side restoring order. The guard stood there looking out at the creatures disappearing in the direction of the alarm sound from the distant loudspeaker.

“We go the next time that guard disappears,” Claudia said. “We go down those stairs and we keep low and we run. Okay? We run right back the way we came.”

Chloë nodded. She reached out and pulled Claudia’s necklace away to get a closer look. “You marked it,” Chloë said.

Claudia looked down. The necklace had been slightly smudged by the floor she’d been lying on.

“It’s okay,” Chloë said. “Can always go get another one.”

Claudia smiled. “Come on, Chloë. When that man disappears, we go. You ready?”

Chloë turned around. Lifted her gun again. “I…‌‌I think he’s going. I think he’s going.”

Chloë was right. He was going. He was gone within a matter of seconds.

Claudia churned up inside. She grabbed her daughter’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Claudia and Chloë bolted out of the door at the back of the children’s holiday home and sprinted across the grass, which must’ve been long for ages considering it was winter now. Obviously hadn’t been cut all summer. The pair of them ran across the grass, keeping as low as possible, heading in the direction they’d come from. They had to be prepared. Prepared for lone creatures. Prepared for humans that might want to do bad things to them.

They had to be on their guard. Always on their guard.

They sprinted down the road, Claudia’s legs aching after lying down for so long. They did pass a few lone creatures, but they were no problem. One or the other of them just pushed them aside, knocked them back, or hit them over their fragile skulls with the butt of their guns.

Today was their lucky day. Things were going their way. Every problem that came their way, Claudia felt primed to overcome. The sun shone down on them. If there was a god in the sky, then he most certainly was looking down at them today.

Whether he was alive or undead was a different matter. The creatures got to everyone, didn’t they?

“Look!” Chloë shouted as they exited the middle of the village called Silverdale and jogged down an open road.

In the distance, Claudia saw the trainline where Mike had dropped them off. She saw the point closer to them in the road where Dave had met them on rendezvous.

And at the train tracks, a silver Ford was waiting.

Claudia’s stomach somersaulted. Mike had come back for them. He’d kept his word. Whether the plan of his had worked or not, she had no idea, but at least he’d come back for them. At the very least, he’d put a scare into the caravan people. At most…‌‌well. Claudia and her daughter had only had an outside view of the place. Who knew what was going on behind those fences? Who knew what Dave was doing?

“Come on,” Claudia said. She gripped her daughter’s hand again, and the pair of them set the pace for one another. A smile rose on Claudia’s cheeks. For the first time today, an actual smile. Despite all the carnage, all the death, all the fear, she’d survived. Both of them had survived.

That was when the silver Ford turned around and drove away.

Claudia and Chloë stopped. Claudia didn’t really realise she’d stopped, though. It was just automatic.

“Why’s he driving off?” Chloë asked.

Mike’s car was driving away. Fast. He was abandoning her. Abandoning both of them. Maybe he’d got wind that his plan hadn’t worked. Maybe she’d forgotten something. Shit. She’d done everything he asked, right? She’d got the right Dave? She’d‌—‌

“Might want to ‘ave a good think before you take another step, ladies.”

The voice came from behind them. It sent shivers down Claudia’s arms as she watched Mike’s car disappear into the distant trees.

Claudia held her breath. Her heart raced. She turned around.

Standing opposite her were three men. All of them had guns in one hand and metal batons in the other.

All of their guns were pointed at Claudia and Chloë.

“That was Mike’s car, Paddy,” the bearded, long-haired man on the left said. “They’re Mike’s bitches‌—‌”

“Just let us walk,” Claudia said. Her voice was shaky. Although she had a gun, she was outnumbered. They were both outnumbered. She didn’t know what to say. She’d seen what these savages had done to that poor castrated man. What was stopping them doing the same to them?

“Give us the gun, little girl,” the bald man on the right said. “Hand it over and we can‌—‌FUCK!”

A gunshot rattled through the air. Claudia thought it was from the men at first, but it came from beside her, down to her right.

It was Chloë.

“Get the fuckers. Take them back to Rodrigo. If they’re Mike’s, he’ll want to question um.”

The three men charged at Claudia and Chloë.

Chloë lifted her gun again. Aimed. Fired.

And again, she missed.

That was when Claudia felt her frozen, fixated body collide with the solid road. Her hand let go of Chloë’s. One of the men pushed down on top of her, tying her hands behind her back really, really tight.

She could see another man doing the same to Chloë, only she was fighting. Reaching out her hand towards Claudia as the man pressed her into the road. Reaching out and reaching out, wanting nothing more than for her mum to just hold her hand while whatever was about to happen happened.

But she didn’t get the chance because in a matter of seconds, her hands were tied behind her back too.

“Mum…‌‌please…‌‌Mum.”

“Shut that slut up,” one of the men said.

Everything after that point happened fast. The bandages around their mouths. The pushing and shoving and groping and bundling along the road‌—‌the pushing to the floor and the dragging back up again by their hair. The men laughing, all the time laughing, celebratory, like they’d hit some kind of twisted jackpot.

Claudia elongated her pinkie finger as much as she could as the gates of Heathwaite’s Caravan Park came into view.

Her daughter elongated her finger in return.

Neither of them touched.

The gates of Heathwaite’s were wide open as Claudia and Chloë approached.

People were outside on the road. They seemed to be killing off the creatures that were still wandering around on their own. But the bulk had gone. The mass had gone.

And judging by the celebratory tone of these men who had captured them, Mike’s plan had failed.

They stepped through the gates. Inside, the place looked relatively nice. Not the sort of place that should be home to sick men like this. There was a huge leisure centre type building up on the right. There were grounds filled with trees, Crazy Golf, all sorts of activities and fun.

And standing in front of them, there was a muscular grey man. He looked at them with confusion. With a lack of recognition.

“These are?” the man asked. He had a strange American twang to his voice unlike any American accent Claudia had ever heard. Or any accent for that matter.

“These bitches were runnin’ away from the scene of the crime towards Mike’s car,” one of the men said. “Took a shot at me. Obviously didn’t wanna get caught.”

The American’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Claudia and Chloë closely.
Take pity
, Claudia thought.
My daughter is only a high school girl. Take pity, please.

“Good work,” the American said, smacking one of Claudia and Chloë’s capturers on the shoulder. “Very good work. I’m sure we’ll find plenty to talk about with these ladies.”

Then, his smile widened. He started to laugh as if the shock had given away, and he was starting to realise just how lucky he was.

“Ho-ly shit,” he shouted, and clapped his hands.

Two people over by the leisure centre jogged down the steps.

“What is it?” one of them said.

Claudia was so spaced out and so scared that it took her a moment to register the voice. She’d heard it before. She knew she’d heard it, definitely since the end times had started.

That’s when the face clicked. Or the faces, rather.

Riley and Anna. Riley and Anna were in Heathwaite’s. Riley and Anna were…‌‌they were with these people.

“Only went and found a pair of Mike’s stragglers,” the American said. “Tried to fire a shot at ol’ Paddy they did, only they missed and got themselves caught. Ain’t that right?”

Claudia wanted to shout and scream and beg Riley and Anna for help. She wanted to shout at them for being here. She wanted to cry with relief and joy that they were alive. The way they looked back at her too, wide-eyed, all clean and trimmed and proper.

Holy shit. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening.

“Get them to a free caravan,” the American said, patting one of his baseball bat wielding volunteers that had come to see what was happening on the back. “Work out what we wanna do with ‘em.”

Claudia walked. Chloë walked too as the pair of them had heavy objects rammed into their backs.

But all that time, Claudia kept her eyes on Riley and Anna, not understanding, not knowing what it meant‌—‌what any of it meant.

And all that time, Riley and Anna watched as Claudia and Chloë were pushed away, pushed along the main road of the caravan park, across the grass and over to the caravans on the hills, the eyes of women and children staring at them judgementally, scared.

The sun shone down on Claudia and Chloë as they were pushed up the hill and into the labyrinth of caravans.

Claudia wanted to reach out and grab her daughter’s hand, but she couldn’t even come close, not anymore.

Their luck had finally, finally expired.

EPISODE ELEVEN

(FIFTH EPISODE OF SEASON TWO)

Prologue

Riley held the book above him and squinted at the pages. It was Dan Brown’s latest book, Inferno. He’d been meaning to read it before the world went to shit, but y’know, he just hadn’t really found the right opportunity now that zombie-type creatures were roaming the world.

The boat shifted to the side again, and he smacked his head against the wooden wall beside him. He winced and scratched at his head. He was beginning to get used to Pedro’s wild sailing style. They’d been at sea for three days now. Three days since Ted. Three days since the barracks. And yet, all of that seemed so long ago, like a distant memory.

And wherever it was they were going, maybe life would be better on another shore.

He heard a knock at the door of the back area of the boat. He lowered the Dan Brown book‌—‌truth was, he was struggling to get into it. Had he ever got into books, really? Or was it just the fact that the very stuff fiction was made of was going on all around?

“Busy?”

It was Anna. She had a smile on her face. Something he was growing used to since they’d got on the boat. More relaxed. More laid back. More detached from the realities of the world around them.

“Nah, just…‌‌well I’ve got to page eight, anyway.”

“Where was it you were up to when I last came in?”

Riley looked at where the bottom of the page was folded over. “Page six.”

Anna laughed. She plonked herself down on the wooden floor beside him, jabbing the pillow away from his head and staring up at the ceiling. “It’s a pity this place won’t last forever, isn’t it?”

Riley felt a little uncomfortable with these words. The distant future wasn’t something he wanted to think about too much. “I dunno. I mean, this place is good. Who knows how long we’ll be out at sea?”

Anna smiled. Only this time, it was less of a triumphant or playful smile and one of realisation. Of content. She looked like she was about to say something, then she stopped. She twiddled at the necklace around her neck.

“I still think about him,” Anna said.

There was a starkness to her words. A difference to the honeymoon-esque manner everybody had seemed to speak in recently.

“Who?” Riley asked.

Anna shook her head. “I…‌‌I dunno. Stan. Trevor. Ivan.” A slight pause. “Ted. All of them and none of them. I still think about…‌‌about what they did. What they did and how they were just one of us.”

“Ivan was hardly one of us‌—‌”

“He was human,” Anna said, her eyes fixing on Riley’s face. “He…‌‌he was human which means he was one of us. I’m not justifying what he did, I just…‌‌the things we’ve done. The things we’ve seen and been through. How long can we last? How long can any of this last before we all just destroy each other?”

Riley put an arm around Anna. His stomach churned as he did this. Wasn’t something he was entirely comfortable with. But it felt like the right thing to do. And one thing he’d learned about Anna over these last few weeks was that usually, the right thing was enough.

“Let’s just enjoy this moment,” Riley said, the boat swaying from side to side‌—‌he still noticed it, but less and less by the day.

“Oh, God,” Anna said. Her cheeks flushed. “Now you’re going all fucking Eckhart Tolle on me.”

“Born and raised on a diet of pulp thrillers and Dan Brown books.”

Anna sighed. She twiddled her heart-shaped locket again. “You’re right. Let’s just…‌‌take the time to sit here and enjoy Pedro’s crappy sailing.”

Riley felt Anna’s warmth beside him. He could hear her breathing, so close to his ear. He wanted to turn around and kiss her. He wanted to look her in the eyes and tell her that everything was going to be okay, or some cliché action movie star line like that.

The boat tilted to one side.

“Ow!” Riley said, smacking his head on the wood wall again. “Don’t think I’ll ever get used to that fucking wall.”

Anna smiled. “Enjoy the moment,” she said, breaking into a small laugh. “Enjoy the moment.”

Riley gripped the baseball bat tightly in his hands. He had to grip it tightly. In case anything else came. In case anything else happened.

He watched the fire burn in front of him. Smelled the smoky twigs drifting in his direction in the breeze. It reminded him of sitting in front of the open log fire in his country home he’d lived in during his late teens. The amber glow of the flames flickering in front of him, toes curled up and escaping the cold of winter. He watched the flames flicker and he pictured himself being back there, back in that living room, back before the world fell to pieces.