Blood Crazy (37 page)

For a full three minutes I got no sense out of him. It wasn't the set, I could hear him holding an excited conversation with someone near him. ‘It's Nick … Yes! The bloody sod's alive!'

At last he came back shooting questions like where on Earth had I disappeared to? Why didn't I come back home?

In about twenty seconds I managed to explain about the kidnap, the long haul back and being stranded, snow-bound, in the back of beyond. Then my patience gave out.

‘What's the trouble? Is Sarah there? Is she all right?'

‘… but we've got … think you'd … get back here as quickly as poss …'

‘Shit,' I hissed. ‘It's breaking up again … Del-Coffey. I can't hear you. I asked, is Sarah all right?'

‘… danger … it's Sarah that I'm … If you get back be careful of …'

‘Del-Coffey … Del-Coffey … What's happened to Sarah?' I was shouting into the mike. ‘Has she been hurt? Del-Coffey?'

Everyone in the shack looked at one another, their eyes round.

Static sizzled the speakers then Del-Coffey's voice came clear, ‘Can you hear me? Nick? This wiring is held together with paper clips. They keep slipping off.'

‘I hear you, Del-Coffey. Sarah. What's happened to her?'

The pause seemed to last for an hour. I sat there staring at the speaker, sweat beginning to ooze from my skin. Then came a female
voice. Quiet, almost a whisper, like it was coming from a planet a billion light years away.

‘Nick … Are you all right?'

‘Sarah! Thank God it's you … Listen. You're okay?'

‘Oh yes … I'm fine.'

‘I heard you've got some trouble.'

‘We have. Big trouble. But first I've got some news for you.'

‘News? What kind of news?'

The pause seemed to spin away the seconds, my hand ached I held the mike so tightly.

Then she spoke: ‘Nick … I've had a baby.'

The walls of the shack seemed to rush in on me. I rocked back. The first stupid thing that came into my head was: ‘A baby. Whose is it?'

‘Whose is it? It's yours, you idiot … Nick Aten, you are a dad.'

That was when the world really did jump out of focus. Murphy's wife had to nudge me three times before I rejoined the rest of the human race.

‘Mine?'

‘Yes. Whose do you think? You were the only one.'

For the next few minutes we had the kind of breathless, astonished conversation you could imagine. Separated for months, then to suddenly find out I'm a dad? ‘Yes, the baby's fine. He's three weeks old.'

Suddenly I realized I'd difficulty in speaking: people were hugging me and slapping me on the back.

I snapped out of it when I remembered that Eskdale was in trouble. Right up until then I'd assumed it was the Creosotes. I asked them if they'd been attacked.

Sarah sounded puzzled. ‘No. It's nothing to do with Creosotes. It's Curt. He's completely insane. About six weeks ago he ordered that no food should be given to anyone but his Crew and their harem. Del-Coffey, Kitty and I have managed to feed the rest, that's over two hundred people, one hot meal a day. But it's only boiled turnip and potato. It's a starvation diet, Nick. Soon we're going to start losing people.'

‘Can't they send out scavenging parties – there must still be canned foods waiting to be picked up?'

‘When I say Curt is insane, I mean he's really out of it. He's paranoid. He won't permit anyone to leave Eskdale. By chance Martin found this transmitter in a house down the valley. Like he says it's a heap of junk; he's worked wonders getting the thing to work at all. The other problem is, if Curt finds out about this radio Martin'll end up
Carrying The Can
for it.'

‘Jesus. They're still doing that?'

‘Carrying The Can?
Oh, yes, they are. They've killed thirty-eight people with that little game so far.'

We talked hard for another twenty minutes then Sarah's voice started to fade.

‘Sarah, listen,' I said. ‘Have you had any trouble with Creosotes?'

‘No. Not at all. No, the weird thing is, there must be two thousand camped in the next valley. No trouble, though. They keep themselves to themselves.'

Holy shit almighty. My mouth turned dry.

‘How many, Sarah? Two thousand?'

‘Yes. What's the—'

‘Listen. Do the numbers stay the same? Or are more joining them?'

‘… few only.' Sarah's voice barely made it above the static now. ‘Seen more joining them. They come in twos and threes.'

Shit, shit, shit!
‘Sarah,' I shouted into the mike. ‘Listen very carefully to me. This is important. You are in danger. They have begun massing. When there are enough of them they will attack you. I've seen it happen. They will stop at nothing until they have killed you all. Curt won't be able to defend the hotel from them. You must get away from there … Find a way to run for it. You've got to—let go of this fucking mike. Let go or I'll fucking kill you …'

Murphy said gently, ‘Nick … Nick. You're wasting your breath. They're no longer transmitting.'

‘It keeps happening,' said Gary. ‘They cut out for a few hours before they can get back to us.'

I could say nothing. I marched out into the snow-covered yard. There I stared out across the mountains, my heart punching away at my chest. I wanted to scream down the sky.

After a while I rubbed snow into my face, then I went back inside.

‘I'm sorry about that,' I said. ‘I find out my girlfriend is still alive.
I find out I'm a father. Then I find out that they'll probably be dead in the next few hours.' I took a deep breath. ‘And I didn't even get a chance to warn them.'

They watched me silently. Mrs Murphy leaned across and hugged me. ‘I'm sorry, Nick. If I was in your place, I'd want to grow wings and fly home.'

For a second I looked at her then I planted an earth-shaking kiss on her forehead.

‘Thank you, Mrs Murphy. That's exactly what I'm going to do.'

‘What're you talking about? You haven't got wings?'

‘I know … but I've got two damn good legs. I'm going now. Don't try and stop me.'

Murphy smiled. ‘We won't, lad.'

‘If Del-Coffey manages to get that set of his working again, warn him that any time now they're going to be attacked by the adults … That they've got to get away from the area. And tell him I'll be back in Eskdale in three days.'

Seventy miles in arctic conditions? In three days? Impossible
.

But right then I made up my mind. From now on I would force the impossible to become possible. We all have to – or we are dead. It's as simple as that.

Ten minutes later, haversack on my back, rifle on my shoulder I was on my way, waving to the Murphy clan as I went.

When I reached the main road East that'd take me to Eskdale, I said aloud: ‘Okay, you in there, number two mind, the wise old man or whatever we call you, listen to me. You know we've got to get back. We're talking about the survival of the human race here … If you're as powerful as Bernadette says, I'm going to give you a challenge: get us both back to Sarah. Fast. And in one piece.'

I hit the road, following it as it hugged the shore of the great river.

At long, long last, we were going home.

Head down, I went for it, ploughing through mile after mile of snow drifts. To my left, the river thick with drowned Creosotes. To my right, frozen mountains.

Sometimes the drifts on the road were so deep I'd have to detour across a field.

There were no settlements. No surviving ones, anyway. I did pass a burnt-out church. A broken-down barbed wire fence surrounded it. People like us had lived there once but they'd either fled or were dead.

I didn't stop but powered on. I felt like a loco with a roaring fire in its belly and a head full of steam. Nothing could stop me now.

The map told me that in three miles I'd reach a suspension bridge that would take me across the river. Then it was downhill to the flatlands: the next hills I'd see would be Eskdale.

Two miles on and I saw why there were so many bodies drifting down river.

For a full five minutes I had to stare at what spanned the river from bank to bank. I saw it, but what I did see took some time sinking in.

Running across the river in a C-shaped curve, fifteen feet wide, a hundred yards long, was a causeway. It was built out of human
beings. There must have been a thousand or more of them. At first I thought that corpses had been tied together but as I edged nearer I realized that the causeway was made out of
living
adults, standing chest deep in the water, their limbs woven together to form a solid bridge of flesh and bone.

As I watched, one of the adults let go, probably killed by the cold water. The body drifted away downstream.

So this was what I'd seen floating by the house. Discarded parts of the causeway.

From the trees on my side of the river, a Creosote walked out across the living causeway. Without any kind of hesitation, he took the place of his dead colleague in the freezing water.

The process continued. Dying adults would crumble away from the causeway; immediately they'd be replaced by a fresh one.

See a line of ants across your back yard? Scrub out a hundred with your foot. The line of ants reforms with more ants from the nest. And they carry on just as before. They ignore their own dead. No pain, no remorse, no grief. The new species of Man behaved like those ants.

As I watched, I saw a steady stream of adults begin crossing the causeway to the other side of the river.

The causeway did have some mad purpose. They needed to cross the river – so this is how they did it.

I carried on, carefully now. Creosotes were coming out of the forest to my right, crossing the road then heading down to the causeway.

The bastards were migrating north. I knew why. To snuff out every community of their children they could find.

Eskdale. How long before they targeted the three hundred kids there?

I got through the Creosotes' lines without them seeing me and pushed on quickly to the bridge.

When I saw it I realised why the Creosotes had built the living causeway.

The suspension bridge now lay in a tangle of steel cables down the valley side. It didn't take a genius to guess what had happened. There'd have been a bunch of kids living somewhere on the other side of the river. In an attempt to stop the Creosotes swarming over
the bridge and wiping them out they'd managed to dynamite it. But the Creosotes, driven by that remorseless, indefatigable instinct to kill their own young had found another way.

This left me in deep shit. I pulled out the map. I had to cross the damn river to get back to Eskdale. There was another bridge twenty miles upstream but there were no guarantees that that hadn't been blown too. Probably the next one as well. It might take me a week to find a way across.

The other alternative, Nick? Swim for it. In summer maybe, but this water's so cold it kills as sure as a knife.

With luck there might be a boat somewhere along the banks. Then again, there might not. This place was pretty remote. It could take a week to find a stupid boat. In a week everyone in Eskdale might be food for the birds. Including Sarah and my son.

The idea I had then took my breath away.

‘You suicidal cretin,' I said to myself. But there was no other way.

If the people bridge was good enough for the Creosotes, it was good enough for me.

The light was beginning to fade by the time I reached the causeway. In half an hour it'd be dark. If I was going to do it, I'd have to do it now.

As I cut down through the wood to the causeway, wondering how the hell I could pass for a Creosote I walked into two in a clearing. They were standing, staring into space, in that switched-off way they had.

If I kept going then maybe they'd not bother me.

No such luck. The tallest one with long grey hair went for me like a wrestler on acid. Swinging his arms, mad, blazing eyes locked onto mine.

I wasn't ready for the ferocity of the attack, the rifle was still strapped across my back, the pistol in my belt.

When he hit me, I fell back.

Deliberately, I continued to roll back, finishing the roll with an upward stamp.

The sole of my boot smashed upward into the guy's chin as he came after me. His hand snapped up, then he went down.

As I struggled to my feet the other Creosote grabbed me. He was short and dumpy, but was he strong.

He got in front of me and held me in a bear hug so tight I thought my spine would snap. As he crushed me in his ape arms he pushed me back. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see where he was pushing me. For all I knew he was pushing me into the arms of a whole mob of Creosotes.

I felt the ground slope up sharply behind me. He kept pushing, his face turned up to stare at mine. His breath stank like shit.

My heels hit something as he pushed and I fell back. He didn't loosen his grip and he came down on top of me knocking out what breath still stuck in my lungs.

I was going to die. There in the muck, crushed by this psycho. I stopped trying to punch his face and stab out his eyes with my thumb. Nothing hurt him.

I felt the ground around me, hands going like frantic crabs, searching through snow and sticks and Creosote shit.

My left hand closed over a cold lump the size of a football. It was hard.

With the world starting to turn dark and faraway as I suffocated, I gripped the rock with both hands behind his head.

Then I brought the mother down.

Hard.

I felt his head kick forward to thump into my chest.

Suddenly the pressure around my spine was gone. I pushed him off and stood up, ready with the boulder to hit him again.