The Afflicted: A Zombie Novel (10 page)

Beyond the
rail-tracks was a field full of dead cattle, swarming with buzzing flies hovering greedily over bloated carcasses. Evan wondered if the cows’ demise was natural, if the farmer had simply been unable to attend to them anymore. From the van, he couldn’t see the animal’s bodies that had been ripped apart, stomachs carved open by carnivorous dead humans.

The drive was becoming tedious. Joe had to start going slower a
s he weaved in and out of more traffic on congested roads.

“So
, Evan, did you get on well with your parents?” asked Amane, breaking the silence. She was restless and needed the distraction of conversation.

After a pause Evan replied, “I don’t know. I don’t remember much. My father
, Tom, yes, I’m sure, but I can’t remember my mother. She...” Evan broke off. He didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry about your
parents,” he said, looking over to her. Amane was leaning toward the window, a faint wind blowing her brown hair back out of her face. She shook her head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe this. I just can’t believe what’s going on. My parents had come over to visit me
, have a nice holiday, and now... Jesus.”

Evan realised he wasn’t the only one with problems. It occurred to him he had been selfish in his actions. But wasn’t it better that they stuck together? There was more chance of fighting those things off in a group. Maybe he just wanted some company
. Being apart from his family, not knowing where they were, he felt very alone. He reached behind and she squeezed his hand. Evan tried to give her a smile over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” she said. She meant it but her eyes
betrayed her inner sadness. She was grieving for her parents they’d left behind at the airport.

It was slow going, despite Joe’s best efforts at manoe
uvring around the vehicles on the road. At times, it was a crawl, as they had to negotiate multiple crashes and mangled bodies.

“Mr
Crow,” said Karyn from the back after a while, “I know where you are heading, but I have to ask you to take a detour. I need to take George home.” She leaned forward so she knew he would hear her.

“
Let’s get real here. My son does not need to go on some wild goose chase with you. I am going to take him home where we’ll be safe. Take the next left and I’ll give you directions. If we keep going like this, we’ll be home in less than an hour. You can keep the car once we’re home, I don’t care about that. You’ve already cost me one child. I do not intend to let you murder my son, too.”

Evan sighed. He had hoped that her silence had meant she had accepted the situation but suddenly she had burst back into life.
The old Karyn was back.   

“Look, I’m sorry ab
out your daughter, but don’t try to pin that on me. You should have...” Evan broke off as Karyn punched the back of his seat causing everyone in the van to spring awake.

Karyn
shouted, “If it wasn’t for you, we would be fine.
I
would be fine. You brought those fucking zombies with you. We could’ve found a pilot and been long gone. But you had to fuck it all up didn’t you.” She was apoplectic with rage. George started crying. Lily cowered in the corner, snuggling up to the side of the van as far away from Karyn as she could.

“Mrs Crave
n, hang on,” began Joe.

“Oh please
, you’re just as useless as him! Where is my husband, Joe? Tell me. Oh yes, you let him die didn’t you. Instead of bringing him home safely, you got him killed. Bet you didn’t tell George that story, did you?” She was screaming at him, George’s crying getting louder.

“For Christ’s sake, Mrs Crave
n, this is not helping. I’m trying to drive here. If we can get to the coast, we can find a boat. Your house won’t be safe anymore, think about it. Those things are all over the city. We can’t risk going there.”

Karyn
sat back, exasperated. Joe beat his hand against the wheel, accidentally blaring the horn.

“Mrs
Craven, I did not
let
your husband die. I was trying to save him, to get him home to you. We had barely got five minutes away from the office and there was a riot going on right in front of us. People were fighting and running around. It was crazy. Some guy ran in front of us and I had to stop so I wouldn’t run him over. Your husband said he recognised this guy, worked with him or something, and then he just jumped out of the car.

“
I ran after him, shouted it wasn’t safe, but he wouldn’t listen. Pete had a hold of this guy and when I caught up with him, this guy was going mental. He punched me and then Tom, sending us flying, and then he ran off. Next thing I know, a couple of young kids are on top of Pete. They were covered in blood and they were just ripping him apart. He was dead pretty quick. I’m sorry, but George should hear this. He should know his father didn’t just die in a stupid fight or go out with a whimper. And I certainly didn’t kill him. He was trying to help someone and so was I.”

The car was overwhelmed
by a bloated silence. George was sniffling, sat between his mother and Amane. Karyn looked over, her eyes wild. “What are you looking at?”

Amane
turned away, not wanting to get into a fight, and stared out of the window.

“
Fucking chinks,” muttered Karyn. She spat on Amane’s face and lunged forward between the front seats to grab the wheel. Joe tried to keep the van straight as Evan grabbed Karyn’s arms. Amane was stunned. She wiped the saliva off her blossoming cheek.

The commotion caused Joe to
lose control and they collided with a truck that was half blocking the road. The van smashed into the delivery truck’s side and came to an abrupt halt, the windshield shattering, showering Joe with tiny shards of glass, grating his face. The bonnet crumpled and steam began pouring out. A minute ago, the van had been a maelstrom of chaos, a cacophony of screaming and shouting. Now it was silent.

“Everyone ok
ay?” asked Evan, touching his forehead, tenderly feeling the grazes from the airport. His head was throbbing again and his chest hurt from where the seatbelt had dug into him. He looked round and everyone seemed uninjured, but ‘okay,’ they were not. Karyn was getting out leaving George screaming in the van. He was curled up in a ball, eye screwed tightly shut, crying for his father, ignoring his mother who was shouting at him to get out.

Unhurt,
Amane got out and helped Lily who had injured her ankle. She was crying and hobbling over to the pavement where they sat down together. Evan raced around the car and watched as Joe jumped out of his seat and punched Karyn square on the jaw, knocking her out cold. Joe caught her as she fell so she didn’t hit her head on the road. He lay her down, leant into the car to tend to George, and began trying to calm him down.

Evan stood over
Karyn and quickly took in their surroundings. The truck obscured some of his view, and their immediate vicinity seemed to be full of houses. They were still in a residential area and Evan had no idea how far they’d gone. The sky was darkening fast and he knew the crash would bring trouble. They had to find a safe refuge and fast. He could hear noise from behind the truck already: hidden feet scuffed on the road. Evan grabbed a bag from the car.

“Everyone, we need to go now, grab a bag if you can.” Joe appeared, holding George who was catatonic.

“He’s passed out.” He looked down at little George protectively. “Probably for the best. So what are we going to do now? The van’s fucked.”

“
Amane, Lily, come on!” They were hobbling back to the van when the first zombie appeared. It came around from the delivery truck and headed straight for Joe.

Evan grabbed a hockey stick from the van and slashed at it.
A moment later and the zombie’s face had been hacked off. The body lay on the ground, twitching.

“Over there,” said Evan
, waving his blood-splattered hockey stick, “see that building? The coffee shop? The front windows broken. We can get in, try to find shelter or something. We can’t stay here.”

Evan barked orders whilst
Amane grabbed her axe from the van and then, with one arm supporting Lily, headed off in the direction of the shopping centre, looking for safety.

“What about her?” said Joe
, looking at Karyn. He no longer felt guilt or sympathy. He was largely ambivalent about her right now.

“Put her in the van, we can’t carry her and George. She should be ok
ay in there for now. The zombies will follow us. To be honest, I’m past caring about that witch.”

Together they lifted her into the back of the van. Joe scooped up George as more zombies appeared steadily. The sight of the rotting flesh and dripping blood made Joe’s stomach turn. Back in the van it hadn’t seemed so real, so in your face.

“Come on!” called Evan as he headed toward the coffee shop, lashing out with a hockey stick at anything that got too close. He slashed at faces, hacked off hands and flayed fingers to the bone. Finally, they reached the coffee-shop window and Joe followed Evan through, carrying George.

“Over here!”

Amane was signalling to them from a doorway, beckoning them through. Avoiding turned over tables and chairs they dodged the obstacle course successfully. All the while, Evan could hear the cracking of glass behind and the incessant moans of the zombies. Their numbers were increasing, drawn by the crash and the noise. Perhaps they can smell fresh blood too, thought Evan.

Through the
door, they went into a kitchen, the aroma of coffee still hanging in the air, permeating the very fabric of the walls. Evan ran past stainless steel worktops to where Lily stood in front of the only other door, hammering on it furiously.

“I can’t open it!” she
cried.

Amane
pushed her aside and swung the axe, snapping the wooden door down the middle, splinters sailing through the air. She heaved on the axe, bringing it back out of the door to strike again.

“Wait!” shouted Evan. “We’re going to need to close that behind us.”

He charged at the weakened door and it shuddered on its hinges. He gritted his teeth and charged again, his right shoulder bearing the brunt of the clash. This time the door flew open. He stumbled through, not knowing what he would find on the other side, as the zombies poured through the doorway behind them into the kitchen.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Evan nearly slipped over as his feet landed on cold, hard tiles. He was in a small shopping centre, illuminated only by a little natural light coming through a glass atrium. There was no immediate sign of anyone else inside and before he could say anything, the others swiftly poured in after him.

He could vaguely make out a post office, a newsagent, a drycleaners and
a hairdresser. It looked like the place had been ransacked; the windows were broken and glass and rubbish lay everywhere: papers, magazines, chocolate bars, even money. All lay forgotten on the floor where they’d been left and trampled over. Evan took a few steps forward into the silent foyer. A tremendous bang made him jump as Amane slammed the coffee-shop door shut, its echoes ringing around the morgue-like mall. She dragged a rubbish bin in front of it.

“We can’t stay here, Evan
,” said Amane, grabbing his arm. Her face was sweaty and grimy.

They all jumped again as the coffee shop door started rattling as the zombies began launch
ing themselves at it, knowing their prey was on the other side. The bin wobbled and the door barely held together under their weight.   

“
That door’s not going to last long,” said Evan. “There’s got to be another way out.”

He didn’t know where to turn, but everyone was looking at him now. Their
pleading eyes told him everything he needed to know.

He
crept past the empty shops, alert and ready. Leaving the door splintering behind them, the group followed him to the other end of the shopping centre where they found the exit blocked. The iron gates had been shut and locked. It was a dead-end. Evan was contemplating telling the others they might have to fight their way back out the way they had come, even though he knew it would be near suicidal, when all of a sudden a faint voice spoke up.

“Exit,
” said George. Joe hadn’t noticed when he had woken from his stupor and put him down.

 
  “There.” George pointed to a small door almost hidden by a huge six-foot advertisement for bargain mortgages. Behind it was an unlit, green ‘exit’ sign.

“Nice one, George,” said Joe
, enthusiastically, greasy hands ruffling George’s dirty brown hair. “You all right, mate?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.
I feel better now. Where’s mum?” he said, looking round.

“She’s safe,
Georgie. She just had to do something but we’ll get her soon, don’t worry,” answered Joe. He took his hand and they all went to the fire exit. As they approached it, they heard another bang. Lily screamed as the coffee shop door gave way. Evan turned back to see a hundred zombies pour through it into the shopping centre. He pushed the exit door and said a small prayer when it opened easily.  

They stepped out into an alley. Left or right,
it made no difference. It was dark now and Evan could not see much. A tall graffiti-covered fence obscured his view of anything useful. He was about to tell everyone to go left, for no reason other than he had to say something, when a figure appeared at the other end of the alley.

“
Oi, over here. Follow me, quick.” The dark figure shouted brazenly in the open and waved them toward him.

“
Let’s go,” said Evan, after barely a moment’s pause.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” said Joe, standing beside Evan.

“No. But it’s got to be safer than staying here. We can’t keep running around in the dark. Look at Lily, she can’t run anywhere.”

Joe shrugged
, resigned to the obvious fact that they had little choice but to trust a stranger. Evan took off, the two packs on his back now weighing more than ever, whilst the rest of them followed him, Amane helping Lily once again, and Joe gripping George’s hand for dear life. As they neared the end of the tiny alley, Evan saw a body at the stranger’s feet.

“Don’t worry, it can’t hurt you now,” said a grinning mouth from beneath a black hood. The man held a large
, bloodied knife in his hand. He turned and walked past the fence out of sight. Rounding the end of the alley, Evan was relieved to see the hooded man still there, waiting for them, wiping the knife on his trousers. He was standing by a wrought-iron gate that was inching open automatically. The man slipped through it quickly.

“Come on then,” he said
breezily. There was no fear in the man’s voice at all. Evan couldn’t tell much but the voice was certainly mature and deep. He hoped the man beneath the hood was only using his cover to hide from the zombies, and not using it as a disguise for more sinister purposes.

They followed the mystery-man down a driveway, flanked on both sides by tall, withering trees. Evan saw black blobs at the bases.
Looking closer in the dark, he could make out feathers and wings: dead birds or bats. It felt strange being out in the open like this. Evan couldn’t help but feeling he was still being watched, phantom eyes staring at him from the canopy above and tree trunks either side of him.

The gate clanged shut behind them and
Amane only just managed to squeeze herself and Lily through in time. Stones crunched underfoot, obscuring the menacing moans of the zombies now stranded behind the fence and gate, as they proceeded down the driveway to a small bungalow. It was also surrounded by a tall fence and a lone candle flickered in the doorway. The rest of the house was unlit, encased by the encroaching night and oppressive, whispering trees. There were no cars outside, but Evan noticed a garage door, closed, and wondered if the man had transport.

The
man unlocked the front door and threw back his hood. The candle cast a shaky light over him and Evan saw that their saviour was a lean man, tall and spindly, with a pockmarked bony face and a rugged, wild beard. Evan watched as old, skeletal fingers twisted the key and pushed open the front door. They were led down a corridor lined with unambitious paintings of lush landscapes and flowering fields. A bureau was decked out with a huge vase full of flowers, the sweet aroma filling the air. It felt homely and comfortable.

Through another
doorway, the man ushered them to sit down and rest. He told them he’d be back in a moment and slipped back into the hallway, leaving them alone. Joe sat George down on an armchair covered with an unnecessary amount of doylies. The room was small and cosy, the curtains drawn, and a large solitary candle lit up the room from a side table. Amane and Lily sunk into an old mushy sofa with relief. Evan dropped the backpacks in the middle of the room.

“Seems pretty safe.
Maybe we should try to crash here for the night?” he said. This stranger had taken them in and they were too exhausted to argue or discuss it. The world where dead people attacked the living was safely locked away outside of the house, outside of the grounds. It already seemed a long way off now. The old man came back in carrying a couple of torches that he handed to Evan and Joe.

“Right, come on, follow me,” he said walking back to the doorway.

“Oh hey, thanks, but look, can we maybe stay here for a bit?” asked Evan, cautiously. “We just need to rest for a while. Lily here is hurt. She can barely walk. We’re very grateful Mr...”

Beady eyes blinked back at Evan. A moment’s silence
passed, but to Evan it felt like a year, as the man’s eyes looked him up and down.

“
That’s not a good idea.” He took a step closer to Evan, who smelt alcohol on the man’s breath.

“There are things that go
bump
in the night. It’s much safer next door with me and Thomas.” The man grimaced, exposing brown, crooked teeth and flicked a torch on, illuminating the hallway.

“Evan, Lily’s dead on her feet.
She’s knackered. She’s only a kid.” Amane stopped as they heard a series of muffled bangs. There was a pause and then it started again.

“Ready now?”
The old man licked his lips, casting furtive eyes about impatiently. Amane looked at Evan concerned. He held up a palm asking for her patience.

“Lily, can you go a little further?” said Evan, kneeling down to talk to her.
“Things will get better. We’ll take care of you, I promise.” She looked so fragile he wanted to pick her up and tell her everything would be okay, but he knew he couldn’t do that. Not yet.

Through
sniffs, she muttered a yes and looked at Evan with tear-streaked eyes, mascara staining her cheeks. She grabbed her handbag and stood up unsteadily. Amane put an arm around her shoulder. George grabbed Joe’s hand and together they all followed warily after the old man.

Their torches picked out furniture
in the gloom: chairs and stacks of magazines, vivid floral tapestries and old black and white photos hanging crookedly on the walls.

They were taken through a small,
old-fashioned kitchen and the old man unlocked another door at the end of it. Single file, they went through it compliantly, down a narrow stairwell. The air was cooler down here and Evan thought he could smell something medicinal. It was like a hospital. The sickly air left a bad taste in his mouth.

Their feet clattered loudly on the steps making them all uneasy. The knocking they’d heard before was louder now and joined by crashing and banging. They filed
through a corridor, past a large metal door, glistening in the light of the torches. The erratic noises were coming from behind it, and as they passed it, Evan brushed his fingers against it. It was remarkably cool to the touch. The door was locked by large slide-bolts at the top and bottom. They carried on and turned a corner, the corridor becoming narrower: plain, stripped down wooden floors sweeping up to bare walls. The torchlight bounced off the whitewashed concrete casting their leader’s body into shadow, his hunched bony old body illuminated as a hideous shadow ahead of them. George felt calm now. He knew he’d freaked out earlier but something in his head had clicked. Lucy was gone. His father wouldn’t be coming back. He saw things more pragmatically now: logically.

At the conclusion of the cold damp corridor, the old man opened a
nother door into a cellar. He pulled a cord and instantly bathed it in an amber glow, a single bare bulb hanging in the centre of the room, dazzling them all. Evan saw a huge wine rack running the length of the wall. He estimated it must have been holding at least seventy bottles. The old man was heading up the stairs and the door at the top opened out into yet another dim hallway. Looking around, Evan was wondering when this little jaunt was going to end. The ceilings were higher and the décor was different: simpler. His torch picked out a staircase in the dark and he knew they were in another house now. Through a large double-door, they entered a room that finally felt truly welcoming.

There was a roaring fire
and another man drawing heavy velvety curtains together. Over the fireplace hung a magnificent painting of the last supper, sat in an ornate gold frame. Bookcases adorned the walls, stuffed with thick books, papers and manuscripts. A large round table was laid out with food and drink: chicken, dishes of vegetables, cakes, biscuits, beer, and wine. The mystery-man sat down in a cushioned armchair and picked up a half-empty glass of whisky, carrying on where he had left off.

“Come in, come in, please, sit down.
My poor dears.” The second man approached them. He had close-cropped white hair and in contrast to his friend, had a round face to match his round belly. He wore a blue-collared shirt and high above his expansive waist, brown trousers held up by braces. He helped Amane set Lily down onto a chair by the table.

“Please, feel free
! Help yourselves,” he said eagerly. “I’m Father Thomas.”

“Evan,” he said
, holding out his hand. The Father shook it vigorously. Evan pointed out the others. “This is Joe, George, Amane, and Lily.”

“Thrilled to meet you all, you are most welcome in my house.
I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances but we must face each day as the Lord provides. Eat and drink my friends. Honestly, there is far too much for me and Nathaniel here.”

The myster
y-man, Nathaniel, raised his glass, acknowledging them, and swirled the whisky in its glass, ice-cubes chinking against the crystal glass, before drawing down a large gulp. As the group offered their thanks and eagerly began on the feast spread out before them, Evan walked to the fireplace and warmed himself. Father Thomas joined him.

“
It’s Evan, right? We saw the crash, young man. It was lucky we did or you would have been in terrible trouble. We’re the only residents left around here. Everyone else has left or, well, you know.” He spoke in a hushed, sombre voice. 

“
Uh-huh,’ said Evan. “How did you manage to see the crash from here though?” Something seemed a little bit odd about these two men though he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“
Oh, from upstairs. I’ll show you. Right now, you must get something to eat. Replenish your energy my dear boy. I’ll go fetch a bandage for the young lady’s leg.” With that, he strode out of the room and Evan went back to the table. Joe’s face was flushed already.

“Second or third, Joe?” said Evan
smiling, watching him take large mouthfuls from a glass of red wine.