Dead Ahead (22 page)

“You ready?” asked Jim.

“As I’ll ever be....” Cassie said, skipping down the last few steps.

“Let’s do this then.” Said Ethan, as he moved toward the door and unclasped the metal grid from its brackets. Cassie felt the carpet squelch underfoot as she stepped forward; the foyer looked like it had been washed down with a hose.

“It’s best to wash away the bits of the Deadites,” Zoe said as they walked through the door, “otherwise it starts to smell! Ethan moved the bodies earlier. Its round this way...!” Zoe darted to the left and rounded the corner of the building.

“Hold on!” Shouted Jim, but it was too late, she was off at a jog down the front of the building.

“It’s ok. They can’t get up here, apart from the stairs, and they are behind you!” she said whilst spinning round. She looked as if she hadn’t been outside in days.

“But how do we know there isn’t already one up here?” Cassie said.

Zoe stopped her spinning and dancing; she looked at Cassie as if she had said something incredibly stupid and said, “Because we would be dead already!”

The patio at the front of the hotel was raised a good ten feet above the road making it near impossible to reach from below; the other end of the patio had been blocked off by what looked to be every table that had been in the hotel turned on edge with the flat facing the other way so as to create a sheer surface on the other side to block access for any unwanted visitors. When they reached the end, Zoe dug an aluminium ladder out of the shrubbery and Ethan helped her slide it down on to the road. Jim kept careful watch from the top of the wall through his scope as they quietly made their way down.

Ethan crossed the road and took over watch as Jim followed. They made their way to the left, further along the road from the hotel to a long shed with three shabby wooden doors facing the road. Zoe went to the centre door and unlocked it, swinging it open to reveal a two dark green plastic looking vehicles with large round lights at the front that made them look kind of like a frog. There was only one thing on Cassie’s mind when she saw it though.

“It doesn’t have a roof!” She said.

“But it can go off road!” said Ethan.

“But it doesn’t have a roof!” She repeated.

“But it can go on the water!” said Zoe.

“But.... it....
Doesn’t.... Have.... A.... Roof...
!”

Jim just shrugged; “Walking doesn’t have a roof either....” he and Ethan walked around the Argo Cat inspecting it from nose to tail, poking and prodding it and chatting together while Cassie remained vigilant at the doors, flashing her eyes up and down the road, from left to right and back again. There was no one there; the road was empty, but she still felt as if she was being watched. Something moved in the thick trees across from the road and Cassie locked her eyes on where she thought the movement had come from; a cry locked its self in her throat, ready to burst forth should anything crash through the brush. She stood there, staring at the trees till Zoe placed her hand on her shoulder.

“Are you ok? You looked in a bit of a daze there!”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Cassie said, blinking the dryness from her eyes, “I just thought I saw something.”

“Where?” Zoe asked, worriedly

“Just in the trees across the road, it was probably nothing!”

“It was maybe a rabbit; there are loads of them around here.”

“Are they finished yet?” Cassie asked, nodding towards the shed

“Just about, I think.”

“Boys and their toys, eh...? So long as it moves I don’t care!”

“Oh they move just fine; Mr Crawley had prepared them for if we ever had to leave in a hurry, they have fuel and water and loads of other stuff already in them, we just need to jump in and go!”

“This Mr Crawley sounds like he had it all sussed out. You must really miss him!”

“Yeah,” Zoe said with a grimace, “He was going a bit mental towards the end; he kind of scared me, y’know?” Zoe left a small remorseful pause before saying, “But then you lot turned up!” with a broad smile.

“I know you’re excited to be leaving here, Zoe, but it’s not exciting out there beyond these hills, it’s scary, really scary, there are thousands of them out there and they are all out to get you! I’m not trying to scare you, I’m trying to prepare you, and some more of us are likely to die before we find somewhere safe to....” Cassie didn’t know how to finish what she was saying, ‘safe to what?’ live? Survive? Or merely exist? Fortunately Ethan broke the silence.

“Alright...?”

“Yeah, all clear. Do you think we will be ok in those things?”

“It’s a good bit of kit, barely used, and it should run pretty quietly if we use the packs to muffle the engine noise.”

“But do you think we will be
safe
?”

“Safer than we would be on foot! But I’m not sure we will be safe
anywhere
; we thought we would be safe in the Husky!”

“Husky?” Zoe interrupted, “What’s a Husky?”

“The Husky was a type of armoured army truck,” Ethan said offhandedly to Zoe, “we had two of them when we set out.” Cassie could see that Zoe’s excitement was fading fast, Ethan turned back to Cassie “But if we keep to the hills and fields and well away from populated areas then I think we should be safe enough; it worked when we set out from the bunker.”

“Do you think they will be fast enough?” Cassie asked, she almost felt as if she was playing devil’s advocate at this point, but she also felt as if the question needed answering.

“I reckon that they would get us there in two days, depending on the terrain and if nothing stood in our path; so maybe three days.” Ethan didn’t look confident in his estimations.

“
Three days
? That’s cutting it a little too close, isn’t it?”

“I can’t see the
future
, Cassie,” Ethan said just a little too loudly, “it could be more, it could be less, I just
don’t know
!”

Cassie looked into Ethan’s eyes and suddenly saw the pressure that she was putting him under; he was desperately trying to hold everything together in a world that was tearing its self apart, and her blind detachment to human emotions whilst focussing on the ‘big picture’ was pushing him to breaking point. It wasn’t the first time it had driven a wedge between her and other people, between her and partners even.

“I’m sorry, Ethan, I didn’t mean to....”

“It’s fine, Cassie. We will get there in time, I promise you!”

“Guys...?” Jim said, squeezing between them, “We had better be getting back to the hotel, it’s starting to get dark.”

All six of them sat huddled round the dimly lit map set out on the kitchen worktop, it had long since past dusk and they were casually slurping up strands of spaghetti in a simple but delicious tomato sauce; Sarah and Greg had been busy preparing it while they had been out checking over the Argo Cat, it was a welcome surprise, Cassie hadn’t realised just how hungry she was.

The idea of the meeting of minds was to determine how far they would get in the vehicle and where was best to make camp when they inevitably had to stop for rest; it had been agreed that travelling though the night would be far too dangerous, but if they had to do it to make it to the power station in time then that would be what they had to do. The conversation grew heated at several points (mainly between Ethan and Greg) but there had been no raised voices and no storm outs. The map in front of them had several red circles on it to represent places to make camp on the first leg, and circles in blue for suitable camps for the second leg; it was agreed by all that it was pointless to try to predict where a third campsite could be placed till at least the first night, hopefully it wouldn’t be needed at all.

“Ok then!” Ethan said, “We leave at first light. I would suggest that we get as much rest as possible before then.”

Everyone nodded in agreement and bid each other goodnight. Again, it was just Cassie and Ethan left in the kitchen alone.

“See you in the morning, Ethan,” Cassie said, heading for the door.

“Uh.... I don’t suppose you’d fancy joining me for a nightcap would you?” Ethan stepped over to an old vase and pulled out a bottle of red wine from inside it.

“I thought you had poured all the alcohol away?”

“I couldn’t throw this away, its vintage!”

“I really shouldn’t! We have an early start tomorrow.”

“You sure?” Ethan waggled the bottle with a cheeky smile.

“You know what? Fuck it! One glass can’t hurt!”

Chapter

17

Death Grip

The moon was full and fat, and rising ever higher between the pinprick stars in the inky black sheet of night; almost directly above them now and it cast dark shadows around and beneath them, evil shadows that could easily be hiding monsters within.

The river had swollen to a decent depth and with after connecting with the River Kent and the River Mint, but still it was slow moving.

Caleb could see the whites of Brandon’s eyes as they darted all around, checking every shadow for danger as it drifted lazily by. Frank’s eyes were the same, though his were peeking out of his black balaclava again, just as they were when they first met, that and they would flick up and down with quiet murmurs from his lips. At this time of night they should have been asleep.

But they couldn’t sleep!

It had been the screams that had awoken them, not screams of pain or joy, but deathly, unnatural screams of the dead, thousands of them, echoing around the streets of Kendal. The sound had started off quietly as they slowly coursed by the suburbs. But now, as they lazily drifted under the railway bridge, the screams began to fill their imagination with nightmarish images of the terror that surrounded them.

They were close now, so close that Caleb could almost taste his mother’s home cooking, but the house lay on the other side of town, and they had to make it through the gauntlet that was the River Kent first.

The raft exited the other side of the railway bridge and back into the stark moonlight, they were dangerously exposed; Caleb remembered many a quiet night walking along the riverside, and just how visible anything floating down river was. An image flashed into his head; walking casually hand in hand with a girl and stopping on the Victoria Bridge for a smooch, (what was her name? Sarah? Sally? Stacey! That was it Stacey!) Caleb gave a sharp exhale of delight and spread a grin across his face as the bridge came into view. Four panicked eyes spun to look in his direction at the noise; Caleb had to shake his head lightly to try to tell them to ignore him.

As they neared the Victoria Bridge, Caleb could see movement above, slow, lumbering movement. The Husks were milling around on the bridge, going nowhere in particular, just bumping into each other in their lonely search for their next meal. Caleb could almost pity them; he wondered if maybe Stacey was among them, singing her own sad wailing song.

The passed under the Victoria Bridge and it disappeared into the night behind them. Next up was the Strannon Gate Bridge, a beautiful piece of engineering with three tall stone arches, through which they slipped gently through the centre.

Ahead of them the river was bubbling over a large stepped ridge, it wasn’t the first they had encountered on their way down river and they had developed a knack for getting over them safely; Frank and Brandon shuffled quietly to the back of the raft, where Caleb was already sat, allowing the downstream side to lift higher in the water, as they teetered over the edge of the step they slid back to the front side of the raft, levelling it out. This was the Fourth time they had had to do it, the first one had nearly seen the back of the raft filled with water as it plunged down the slope, but this time it went nice and smoothly.

The night wore on, and the river pulled its self ever forward toward the sea, dragging along these three miserable wretches with it.

Fear seeped back into Caleb’s bones with every bridge they drew under; he convinced himself that the Husks would start pouring over the edge just as they passed under, or an Infected would leap upon them as they floated away, he didn’t remember there
being
so many bridges in Kendal, or so many steps in the river; maybe he had just been away too long, How long
had
it been since he was last here?

They drifted under the last bridge, or so Caleb hoped, it was just off the roundabout that led into the centre of town; he couldn’t even remember the name of it now, but it wasn’t too far from his parents’ house, not by road anyway. They floated lithely over four more steps in the river, pleased to be leaving the screams of the dead behind them; Caleb even dared to smile as they passed by the looming silent monolith that was the Clarks Shoe manufactory, the place that had given his father so many hours of work. They were really close now; the strangely non-pungent smelling sewage treatment plant passed by to the right and just on the bend in the river Caleb used the pole to guide them to the bank.

“We’re here!” Caleb said at a whisper.

“Really...?” Frank said, stunned and a little too loud, “What we waiting for then? Let’s get out of this thing!” His feet squeaked on the rubber as he tried to clamber out.

“Wait a minute.... Wait!” Caleb said, also too loudly and winced at his own volume, “I don’t want to be wandering around in the dark out there. Besides, we don’t know that the house is safe!”

“Well what do you want to do then?” Frank asked, still half up.

“I think we should tie the raft up and try to get some sleep.”

“What? Spend another night in this thing?

“I think we have to! What do you think Brandon?”

The boy just shrugged and grabbed the rope from the pack.

“I think you’re both crazy!” Said Frank, the irony of the statement completely lost on him.

They strung the rope from one side of the river to the other through the loops attached to the side of the raft and tied a knot in the middle to stop them from drifting towards either bank, they pulled the tarp over the top of them and settled in to sleep. Sleep, however, wouldn’t come easy, least not for Caleb; now that he was here, he ran himself through every possible situation he could come up against when he opened his parents’ door. Had he come all this way only to kill his zombified parents, and if so, could he? Maybe they weren’t there at all.

It was yet another restless sleep for him, he was beginning to think he would never sleep soundly again.

It was the smell that initially woke Caleb. the grey plastic sheet did a fine job of blocking out the rising sun, but as the rays hit the vats in the sewage treatment plant, the warm, noxious and ever memorable smell filled his nostrils; he had no idea how many mornings he had woken to the delightful smell that brought bile to the back of his throat, but it was always a very unwelcome surprise. It was the reason his parents had managed to buy such a large house so cheap; they had always told him than the smell wasn’t as bad as he always made out, and to stop his incessant complaining; they must have gotten used to the smell over the years, but it wasn’t something Caleb could ever abide; Brandon felt the same way, much as he loved his grandparents, he never looked forward to a trip to their house.

Caleb shuffled his way to the edge of the raft and slowly pulled the tarpaulin back to peek out; ever so gently he pushed his head through the gap and checked for any husks roaming around. Once he was confident that the coast was clear, he eased his body up and into a sitting position. Now, how to wake Frank and Brandon without making too much noise?

Just as the thought was processing in Caleb’s brain, Frank sat bolt upright, tossing the tarp to one side with his arms in the air and a gaping yawn spread across his face.
‘What a fucking idiot that man is’
Caleb thought to himself, he nearly voiced it until he saw Brandon waking in much the same fashion, and so held his tongue.

“Morning!” said Frank, smacking his lips, “What on earth is that smell?”

“That’s the sewage treatment plant.” answered Caleb.

“Bloody hell, that’s ripe! If your parents can survive living next to that, there is a good chance they are still alive.” Frank said with a smile.

The comment brought a smile to Caleb’s face; he needed a little positivity today. The smile didn’t last long though, as he thought the chances of that happening to be pretty slim. “Shall we eat first?” Caleb said; he was in no hurry to find the fate of his parents.

The meal was the same as the last two mornings, the cereal bar that had been a welcome change on the first morning tasted dry and plain in his mouth, it felt like he had to chew twice as long just to get the first mouthful down this time, and was loathed to take a second bite; but he did, it was the only thing standing between him and walking up to that door.

Caleb finished his meagre breakfast and untied the knot in the middle of the rope, he then pulled them to the other side of the river and cut the rope from the tree before pulling them to the side that his parents house was on and untying the rope there, coiled it and packed it back in his bag; the usefulness of a good rope was beyond measure these days, so much so that he had no need to explain his actions to either of the other two, who automatically started hauling the raft out of the water and up the bank. Caleb picked up the wooden punt pole and the oars then clambered up the bank and on to the dirt road after them.

They stood on the road staring down towards the house, it was showing to be another beautiful day, with the sun behind the three of them the white walls of the house were glowing, Caleb had stood upon this short stretch of road a thousand times before and the house had always looked as warm and inviting as it did now, the house was no further than one hundred yards away; as inviting as the house looked, Caleb could feel a pit in his stomach, he really wasn’t ready for this, why had he come?

“Is that it?” asked Frank.

“Yup, that’s the one!” Caleb said, steadier than he felt.

“Let’s do this then!” Frank picked up the front left of the raft, leading Brandon to pick up the front right and Caleb the back, they marched bouncily towards the house, each of them completely out of step with each other; with every haggard step the house looked less and less welcoming, he felt like dropping his end of the raft and turning away, heading back down the road and not looking back, but then, where would he go?

As they turned into the drive he saw his parents blue Audi estate; if he knew his dad like he thought he did, it would have a full tank of petrol and still have a full can in the back; he hoped to god that he was right. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, he was yet to find out) the car being in the drive also meant that his parents would most probably be home.

“Let’s tie the raft to the roof rack; if we have to make a fast exit, I want to be prepared!” Caleb said.

“Do you know where the keys are?” asked Frank with an eyebrow raised.

“I know where they usually are, and I know where the spares are! But even if we don’t get the keys I doubt we will be able to carry this thing very far before we have to drop it!”

“We could put it back in the river?”

“There is no chance we could make it down river if they know we’re there! They would be all over us!”

Frank just made a grunt of acknowledgement and helped lift the raft onto the roof; Caleb thought it best to try to pacify him, just to clear the air.

“Tell you what, Frank! If we can’t find the keys and think it is safe enough, Brand and I can untie the raft while you shoot anything that moves!” Frank then gave him a grin of satisfaction, “But only if we
all
think it is safe enough to do so, ok?”

They finished tying the raft securely and slung their packs into it; Caleb was left looking at his machete in his hand, he looked to the house, then back to the machete.

“Frank?” Caleb asked quietly.

“Yeah mate?”

“Can I borrow your pistol?”

Frank’s face twisted into a deep and untrusting frown, he looked from Caleb to the pistol and then to the heavens, they stayed there for longer than usual.

“If my parents
are
in there, and they
are
.... not themselves, I don’t want to have to use this!” Caleb’s voice almost broke as he said the words; he lifted the machete limply in his arm for frank to see.

“I could....” Frank started.

“No!” interrupted Caleb, “It
has
to be me!”

Frank’s eyes flicked up, quickly this time, “Course, mate!” He unclipped the pistol from its holster and handed it to Caleb, “You know how to use it, right?”

“Yeah, I was a member of a gun club when I was younger.” Caleb looked at the pistol, it was an old Walther PPK, Christ, they really must have scraped the bottom of the barrel to dig this one up; he unclipped the magazine to check it was loaded, and slid it back into the pistol handle and slid the top back to chamber a round, “Ok. Let’s go!”

Caleb took the lead up to the front door, and gently turned the handle with his left hand, holding the pistol in a death grip in his right, he pointed the pistol through the slowly opening doorway. His foot hovered over the threshold before planting his foot inside the house with conviction; he was here now, what had to be done, had to be done!

He crept through the hallway, his feet not making a sound on the soft red shag pile carpet. With a gentle ‘click’ he opened the lounge door and scanned the room; everything was as it should have been, the room set out just as it had been for countless years, only with a fine layer of dust covering the shelves and ornaments, which his mother never would have allowed.

Soundlessly they drew out of the lounge and made for his parents’ bedroom, had they fallen ill with the infection at the same time they would most likely have withdrawn to try to sleep it off in their own heart warming way, they never thought themselves ill enough to bother a doctor about; even when his father had kidney stones, he had to be convinced to go to the hospital, it was a good thing that they
had
convinced him too!