Great Bitten: Outbreak (12 page)

“It’s serviceable. Not exactly pitch black out here.”

“Great. You go ahead of the ladies. Think you can keep in front?”

“Shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

“Rick, are you happy taking the back? Don’t take the gun. But keep it somewhere close. Is that possible?”

Rick thought about it. “With the backpack on, it’s tough. I could just carry it?”

“No. Remember the fall before? I think just pack it. Safer that way. We haven’t got far to go. Carry the hammer. We like hammers.”

“Where will you go?”

“I’ll run in the middle. That way I can keep an eye on the side. I can follow the footing ahead of me. Well I think I can. And then Rick can keep an eye on me too. If I fall over he can kick me back up.”

“What if someone falls behind?”

“No one is falling behind. We’re not Olympic runners. We’ll go steadily. Not sprinting, but quick enough to make pace.”

“But what if one of those sprinters comes out after us?”

“That’s what we save the gas for. We put our feet down. If we start sprinting and lose pace,
then
a sprinter arrives, we’re screwed.”

“Fair point Warren. Right, we just need a couple of minutes to get the stuff transferred. We have to be out of the car to do that. Can you guys keep watch?”

“Sure. Can Carla take Thomas? Will that make it quicker?”

“Dan went to move his son, but Thomas clung fast.”

“Doesn’t look like he’s trusting strangers any time soon. Not a terrible thing in this day and age. Okay, let’s do this.”

We all tentatively clicked open our doors and stepped breathlessly i
n to the silent night. From even the brief stint in the stifled air of the car, the fresh sea breeze was a refreshing change. My trusty hammer was to hand. I hadn’t let it far from my grip since the house.

I took the head of the car and Rick leant against the middle.
Carla stayed inside. Not because she wouldn’t be able to help; she didn’t have a weapon to defend herself. Dan passed Thomas across to his mother, and they both started shoving belongings hurriedly in to bags. I cocked my head to one side and listened out for more music. Land of Hope and Glory had stopped. I hoped it wouldn’t be to the end to the album. It was like an announcement of defiance and life being broadcast around the town. Like the calm eye of the storm, I had no doubt that uplifting nucleus would be surrounded by a melting torrent of death. I’m no connoisseur, but I recognised the Fur Elise when it came on. Its crisp notes were a blessing to my ears.

I scanned up and down the seafront. It was astonishing to see how quiet things were, but the more I was seeing of this odd and
dull town, the more it made sense. It was a rare place to live in this situation. There was the escape of the water. Many people would have boats or, as we have now found out, stolen other people’s boats. Regardless of what the government wanted, they will have taken to the water and be making their way across the channel to safer lands. Or at least, I presume safer lands. There was no real telling whether or not the early restrictions on transport measures had stopped the plague at our borders. Then, as I had now found out, there was an airport not far down the road. Not a commercial airport, but perhaps for the better. There wouldn’t be many people heading for that in favour of watercraft, but there would be a lot more ways of getting out and getting safe. Then there were all of these flats. Custom made safe-houses, flats would generally have very few points of ingress and egress. Barricade these and then, as long as the community in the building stuck together, you had a sure fire few weeks of withstanding most issues. Put that alongside the general demographic of British seaside towns – and by that, I mean magnets for retirees – and you have a decent mix to give yourself a chance of survival, as long as you stayed sensible.

It seemed that so far, we had neither been sensible nor reacted quickly enough. We should have taken
Alan’s warning sensibly whilst we could. Hell, Ass should have treated his own warning more seriously. He either let his guard down or didn’t prepare properly. We were hardly in a position to preach though. When we did finally leave, we didn’t get where we needed to quickly enough. We didn’t even make it all the way to the marina. But the flames were a danger that was perhaps more than we needed to face, and even more than we were prepared to handle.

We had met practically no one; Dan and Anna were the only people that had stopped long enough to converse, and luckily they were a placid couple, not part of a wider group that perhaps had more malicious intent. I berated myself inwardly. We shouldn’t have taken a risk in talking to strangers. Anyone could be out for blood. The mutilated zombie carcass told me that. We had guns, and we hadn’t up
until now really thought about keeping them hidden. Rick wanted to virtually brandish his at any given opportunity. We had lots of food with us, and good resources. People were looting, and anyone stuck out on the streets might consider us an easy target to make sure they didn’t go hungry for a week or so. A small group of men could easily overpower us. Guns or no guns, we didn’t have enough to resist a large number. Under the circumstances, and given the stupid positions we had put ourselves in, we had been lucky to avoid any big confrontations up to now.

C
ould the pier be one stretch of luck too far?

Behind us, the push and pull of the tide
rode therapeutically over the shingled beach. It was a calm and soothing sound at a complete counterpoint to the world that was sitting quite literally in front of us. Fur Elise came to an end and out of the corner of my eye, Rick was jogging up and down on the spot to keep himself alert. Realising I had been daydreaming, I pushed my eyes back to the dark streets across the road. There was still nothing. Nothing to make me shift uncomfortably. Nothing to make me hurry people along. Nothing to make me hold the shaft of the hammer in a tense and ready grip.

I looked harder. Noise wasn’t going to alert me to any threats. This wasn’t a film or a computer game. If I didn’t start paying attention, we might not get any more second chances.

Something caught my gaze to the left. There was a small cluster of shamblers, but they didn’t seem to be heading our way. Their slow shuffling gait was heading towards the bellowing orchestral tones. I silently thanked Mr Classical and wondered again how many lives that music was saving. Dan threw their satchels to the ground and in the swing of habit, forgetting our current situation, he pulled the boot shut with a loud mechanical “fwump”. Mr Classical was between tracks, and the noise carried enough to catch the attention of the small cluster of hobbling monsters. I cursed, but it wasn’t the worst that could have happened; at least they were slow.

“Is that everything?”

“Yes we got all we could.” He looked over his shoulder at where my angry gaze had settled. “Nuts. Sorry about the boot.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s got us some attention, but they’re not exactly sprinting our way.” I pointed out our distant guests
to the others, but Rick dismissed them. It seemed we were now both working on immediate threats only. I knocked at the window and gestured for Carla to leave the car. We all grabbed our things as I had laid out in our plans. “Are we all set?” Confident nods all round. “Okay up top Dan, with the ladies. Let’s go steady. Don’t want any incidents.”

We t
ook up the formation and began trotting straight down towards the pier. We walked past the car wreck and the bus. I looked up at the dark windows, expecting to see the faces of pale dead passengers staring in to nowhere at the very least, gawping hungrily at us at the worst. I saw nothing apart from an occasional disquieting bloody swipe. The door of the bus was open. That explained that, then.

We clambered up the verge and on to the main path that would lead us directly down the seafront. The moon was swollen and proud, casting a pale sheen over a tide that was high up the beach. I had no idea which direction it was moving in. True to my word, I kept my eyes open and left, trying to keep an eye on the heels of the ladies through my peripheral vision. The plan was working. Rick must have risked a glance back, as he reassured me we were leavin
g the shufflers well behind us. We passed three more car wrecks. On my side I could see houses turning in to restaurants and shops. We went past a Travelodge, which even had a few lights on. I wondered if they were residents or trapped victims. Then Dan gave the call none of us wanted to hear.

“Quick ones. Quick ones have seen us!”

“Where?” Rick and I panted.

“Straight ahead,
and heading straight for us.”

“Can we go around them?”

“No. There are only three of them though.”

“
Carla, Anna, get your asses back here. Everyone stop running!”

The metaphorical brakes were engaged. I yanked at the back of
Carla’s top to pull her behind me. Rick gave her a supportive squeeze of the shoulder before we all moved forward to confront the runners. The sight of them bearing down on us was petrifying. Their forward momentum was a sight to behold and I found it hard to understand how they were upright at all; but they were, and they were bearing down on us hard. They ran as if mechanical co-ordination was a concept their muscles vaguely remembered, but their brain forgot to engage. Their limbs flayed around awkwardly as they ran, and more than once they each stumbled forwards instead of striding neatly. I expected them to fall flat on their cadaverous faces, but they didn’t. With cannibalistic intent, they closed us down.

Given their complete lack of co-ordination, I was surprised when the first one leapt at us.
My skin crawled as one of them opened his jaws wide and let out a blood-curdling raw. They were meant to be silent. Most of them we had seen were slow. I should have remembered the car, and their launching themselves at the windows.

Rick was surprised the most
as a six-foot corpse impacted on his upper chest, a tackle that would have been proud on any rugby pitch. The momentum of the run took them both flying and they rolled head over foot, back to the feet of the screaming women. I almost forgot about the other two. Dan had his back turned. Dan definitely forgot about the other two. I faced around as teeth dripping with pink bloodied saliva mauled the air where my neck had been. I yelped and pushed the zombie away hard. I was repulsed by the warm dampness I could immediately feel on my hands that could only be blood. I wasn’t given any respite though. Those teeth came back at me, the hands clawing and trying to get purchase on my warm flesh. I batted away at those hands, bitch-slapping and flailing wildly and ignoring the heat as it hissed spittle at me. We locked arms and that face leant in once more. I baulked as a rancid jaw snapped at my face, holding my breath and clenching my mouth shut as strings of saliva laced over my face. I glanced down and saw the final zombie on Dan’s back. The man was howling in agony. Carla and Anna were screaming and kicking at the zombie that had already tackled Rick to the ground. My heart began to race as my anger mounted. I kicked down hard at the knee of the corpse I was grappling and it stumbled down to one knee. I went to strike the hammer but realised I had dropped it when the wrestling started. I kicked on the prone leg again hard, and the zombie went down. Without hesitating I brought the heel of my foot down on its temple. I stomped four times before hearing a skull crack and feeling the thrashing beneath me still. I looked around desperately on the dark pavement for my weapon and saw it in a weak pool of lamplight. I snatched it up and strode over to Dan, burying the claw in the back of the unsuspecting skull. I withdrew it with a yank, ignoring the skull fragments and hair still clinging to its head. I looked then to Rick, but saw they had already dealt with the last threat. I rolled over Dan, fearful of what I would see.

The eyes that met me were those of a dead man. Viscous red blood was smeared over one side of his
face, the other half pallid and shocked like a Romero-esque Phantom of the Opera. The front of his body wasn’t damaged; it was just covered in blood. It was the back that had taken the brunt of the attack, and Dan was holding himself awkwardly up from the pavement. He coughed and Carla ran over to see how he was. Anna stood back looking frightened and awkward. She had little Thomas clutched to her and with the shaking, he must have been sobbing against his mother’s chest. She took some tentative steps closer to us and I could see then that tears were streaming down her cheeks. Carla turned, seeing the pain in the woman’s face. She stood and without asking, took Thomas from her mother’s unresisting grasp. The child screamed, but his discomfort wasn’t the centre of attention this time. She knelt heavily down by her husband’s bloodied head and cradled him, a strained wail breaking out from her constricted throat. Dan lifted a weak arm to her, cradling her face. Rick was looking around wildly, the adrenalin from the fight colliding with his vulnerability at being floored so easily. He looked furious and ready to take on any comers.

“Warren, we’ve got company!”

I looked past the stricken Dan to where Rick was pointing. He wasn’t wrong. There were slow movers coming for us, but they were close. They must have been alerted by the noise of the fight.

I didn’t want to do it, but I couldn’t see a choice. “We’ve got to go Anna.”

“I’m not leaving him. Look at him!”

“He’s as good as dead Anna, we’ve got to go!”