Plague Of The Revenants (4 page)

I ran into the residential streets, my eyes scanning for
an opportunity to enter a house. All I needed was an open door or window. I turned the corner and soon realised I was in a cul de sac. The revenants pursued close behind me. I was trapped. The only place to go was sideways. I headed for the nearest terraced house and dived through the window, which shattered upon contact, landing with a forward roll and coming up face to face with a revenant. In a second the creature was upon me, knocking me over the coffee table and to the floor. I grabbed a hold of its neck with both hands and tried desperately to keep its clamping jaws away from my own throat. The thing possessed a strength I would not have thought possible. Up close it moved very quickly, and I was put in mind of a snake that pounces in a lightening motion. The thing was even stronger than the one I had encountered earlier and I imagined this was because it was even more desperate for flesh having been confined to the house for the duration of its infection. The revenant slammed me against the wall and although I fought as hard as I can still the thing’s jaws gradually came forward towards me. I was losing strength fast. I buckled my legs and allowed myself to fall to the floor, bringing the revenant with me. This done I kicked out hard and propelled it across the room where it tripped over the coffee table and landed on the settee beyond. I leapt to my feet and seized hold of a porcelain ornament from the mantelpiece; doubtless it would have fetched quite a price in the old world but as the revenant came forward and I smashed the object through its skull its value to me as a weapon was plain for all to see. The revenant fell back, down but not defeated. I looked up to see other revenants climbing through the smashed in window with many more behind. I leapt up and charged out of the living room door, slamming it shut behind me, then staggered through the hallway and into the kitchen. Here I seized up a nearby plastic bag and started frantically rummaging through the cupboards, seizing what tins I could. Suddenly there came a shattering of wood as the living room door was breached. It was essential I get upstairs. I started pulling open the drawers and my hands and seized upon a medium sized cleaver which I brandished triumphantly over my head, charging forward back into the hallway and cleaving a massive gash in the face of an advancing revenant. More were filing through into the hallway but I charged these aside and dashed up the stairs, my eyes scanning the ceiling for the loft hatch which I soon found in the upper hallway. I jumped up and punched open the latch then in the same movement latched on with both hands, swung up and inside where I sat down heavily on the ledge, quickly pulling my feet up as the first of the revenants emerged up the stairs. I replaced the latch and lay still in the complete darkness with my eyes closed, breathing heavily. After a few minutes I heaved myself up and fumbled around for the emersion tank, drank heavily from it then reached into the bag for a tin of something. I ate without tasting. It was nourishment and at that moment it was all I needed. Down below came the groaning of the revenants, gnashing their teeth and patrolling around but unless the roof gave in at that point I was perfectly safe. I had never seen one climb up yet. I consumed another tin, and then another and was about to start on a fourth before I realised I needed to store up provisions for a long siege. A thought suddenly struck me. I lifted the loft hatch for a moment so I might have some light and sent the next fifteen minutes checking myself over for bites and scratches. The search was inconclusive. I was cut quite badly in places, although whether this was due to a revenant bite or down to my fall through the window I did not quite know and at that precise moment I was too tired to care. If I was to die now, here in this loft, at least I had given the bastards a damned good run. I leaned back between the beams and closed my eyes, listening to the sounds below and beyond the house. A moment later I was asleep.

But I was not to die and turn that day. I woke up
a few hours later feeling well rested. The revenants had left the house of their own accord and I dared venture quietly downstairs, cleaver at the ready. Ideally I would have made the house secure and taken it over but having demolished the window in my flight the previous night I could see this would prove difficult. And besides, I didn’t have the tools. A quick glance out at the street beyond told me the place was still infested with revenants and I knew my flight from the stadium to here would haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. Still, at least they had left the house. I was inclined to take it easy for a while. I returned to the kitchen and emptied out the drawers of everything edible I could find, also finding a torch and a few batteries, returned it to the loft then ventured back downstairs and into the shed in the back garden. Here I found a lump hammer with a long handle which would serve as a most useful weapon, although I had other intentions in mind. I returned to the loft and hammered through the wall into the loft of the adjoining property, dropped down and looted what food I could from there. I carried this on through the rest of the terrace. On several occasions I met the undead residents, none living, but I was careful and alert and when they appeared the lump hammer made short work of them. I still slept in the loft because only up here did I feel truly secure. Sometimes I would drop down into one of the bedrooms and peer outside and each time the same scene, the same revenants patrolling.
I stayed in that darkened loft for a month, leaving only to gather up a few meagre tins of food from the kitchen cupboards downstairs. For water I drank the contents of the immersion tank. Even here in the roof I could hear the moans of the revenants on the streets beyond, but never any screaming. The plague was too far advanced for that now and there were times when I imagined I might be the only human left alive. The irony of being trapped inside the loft although to all effects a free man was not lost on me. I suppose I was fortunate in that I was used to solitude what with all my time inside.
At the end of the fourth week I ran out of food. I had been limiting myself to one can of food per day and at the end of it I was left with nothing. The moans of the revenants never let up for a second. They did not sleep or rest. At that stage I imagined the crisis to be a temporary one, that the revenants would eventually starve to death or the government would come up with some sort of master plan, swoop in to take control. I supposed when that happened I would be taken back to jail, or perhaps I could take advantage of the confusion and pretend to be somebody else? Each day I looked out and still nobody came, still the same revenants and still no end to the crisis. It was only when I finally ran out of food that it dawned on me that perhaps nobody was coming, perhaps this was just the way it was going to be from now on. And in that case I wasn’t going to be able to stay here indefinitely. I thought long and hard about where I should go. I realised I knew nothing of this countryside, I had only been in prison here. My home, inasmuch as I had one, was in London, but there was no way I was going to go back there, because I knew full well what kind of state it would be in. I thought about my mother and the rest of my family back home there and was surprised to find I did not really care what happened to them. They had never once come to see me in jail and had sent me only the tersest letters every now and again. I did not blame them for effectively disowning me but at the same time I would not shed tears for their fate.
I found myself yearning for the prison with its thick walls, bars and tightly locked doors. At that moment all I wanted to do was lock myself in my cell, lie down on my bunk with a supply of food and let the world go to hell as it pleased. I wondered whether I could make the house secure and go out foraging as much as possible, looting the surrounding houses. I considered this idea for a long time before eventually dismissing it. The revenants were simply too numerous and as time went on I would have to go further and further afield. In such a situation I would not be able to stay lucky. I needed isolation, to go somewhere there were no revenants. I thought of the Highlands of Scotland, but feared at the same time that a lot of others would have had the same idea and also if the roads were blocked here in the town they were likely to be even more so along the main roads. I knew the town was not too large, and that if I were only to find a vehicle and drive to the countryside I might find a farmhouse I could make secure, perhaps grow crops and raise animals. Maybe too the farmhouse might contain a shotgun.

There was nothing for it. I had to get out of the loft. I was becoming a little stir crazy spending so much time
in there with nothing to do except listen to the revenants outside and barely any daylight either. Besides, with no food to speak of I was not prepared to go another few days starving myself as I had done on the roof and then undergo a repeat of last time when I had barely energy to flee the creatures. I should have saved up some provisions, should have made my flight sooner but it was always going to be too late for regrets in this new world. I had looted a few changes of clothes and also a heavy coat from the adjoining houses and these I stuffed into a bag and slung over my shoulder. Then I took up the hammer and dropped down into the next house, lump hammer at the ready. I had already looted the rooms of anything of value and had checked for revenants but you could never tell who might break in from one day to the next. I had chosen this house for a reason, for the sturdy looking works van parked in the driveway. I made a quick search of the hallway but there was nothing doing, then went upstairs to the bedroom. There was blood on the walls and signs of a struggle, a smashed window. I imagined somebody had turned, bitten the other then that other person had made their own way out. I didn’t care for stories or forensic analysis. I got down on my hands and knees and rummaged through the trouser pockets for keys, which I found without too much trouble. I smiled. Things were starting to come together at last.
The revenant lurched at me from its hiding place beneath the bed. In my search for the keys I had dropped the lump hammer to the side and it now leaned hopelessly out of reach against the opposite wall. The creature seized a hold of my hand and tried to climb my arm. I clenched my spare hand into a fist and brought it down hard upon the creature’s nose. I might as well have been pummelling a plank of wood. The revenant’s nose shattered horrendously against its face but did not slow it up in the slightest. I leapt my feet and swung it across the room and the momentum of the swing caused it to let go of my arm and crash against the dressing table. I leapt back, grabbed the lump hammer and pummelled its head into oblivion.  This done I picked up the keys and left the room, legs still shaking, looking around every corner as I went. I hurried quickly out of the front door and opened up the van, dived inside.

The revenants on the street turned towards me at once.
They had dispersed somewhat in the last fortnight but a few were still congregated on the street as I emerged and now came towards me with their low, guttural moan. I had already learned that these moans attracted the others to living flesh and thus realised it would not be long before the horde was down upon me once more. Sure enough I rounded the corner to be greeted with the sight of a veritable swarm. Revenants in front of me, revenants behind. I had nowhere else to go and I certainly wasn’t going to duck into another one of the side roads and spend another nightmare few weeks creeping from loft to loft. There was nothing for it. I sprinted over to the van, leapt in, started it up and accelerated and drove as fast as I could. The undead hit the bodywork hard, for I ploughed through them in a straight line as I went. One such body completely cracked the windscreen. I ducked down and was grateful when the thing bounced overhead. I heard something scrape along the ground, most likely the bumper and I immediately slowed down. Hit the revenants at speed head on and I would soon wreck the car. I needed to control my aggression and make it safely through the streets, for I was unlikely to get another chance. From then on I tried to avoid hitting the revenants wherever possible, rather I drove around them as best I could and nudged them down from the side.

Negotiating the streets was even harder what with all the piled up cars and the debris all over the road. From time to time I saw evidence of a battle where survivors had clearly attempted to make a stand. I saw bodies lying rotting on the floor with their skulls completely caved in or else knives or other sharp instruments sticking out of their heads and yet after all this time I still saw no signs of human life.

The revenants came up behind me, lumbered into the vehicle. I looked into my rear mirror and saw an entire swarm in pursuit. I accelerated as best I could, praying I didn’t come to an insurmountable obstacle. In time the streets began to thin out and I got the distinct impression I was close to freedom. I saw the last row of houses and beyond that trees. Suddenly the bodies cleared and beyond that trees and open spaces. No more revenants lined the roads. Now there was nothing except trees and hedges with wide open fields in between.

I followed the signs for what I thought were villages. When I got to the busier roads I turned and travelled along on the pavement for cars still blocked the roads from where the living had tried to flee.
For the first time I was out on the open road, for the first time in seven years I was a free man. Or was I?

17
. Grant drives until the truck runs out of petrol – 286 (801)
I drove as fast as I could, trying to put as much distance between myself and the town as possible. The truck itself was in a hell of a state after I had dashed it against the swarm earlier. The engine was making a labouring noise and black smoke was seeping out from the bonnet. And yet still, by some miracle, it kept going. I looked out for other vehicles but all those I found were either wedged in ditches, destroyed or surrounded by revenants. I do not mind admitting I had been given quite a scare by the creature in the bedroom earlier and I did not want to risk another confrontation unless absolutely necessary. I drove around in circles, turning around when I came to built up areas and small towns which were invariably packed with the undead. I had no map and no clear idea as to where I was going. In this I was as helpless as the revenants. Of intelligent, reasonable life there was not a sign. I tried the radio but all that came through was static. At least I was out of the town but the revenants were still thick in places. As soon as they saw me they came after me, were attracted to human life like a magnet. They did not heed my vehicle or the road. Sometimes they came out so thick on the road I simply turned the truck around and went back the way I had come. With the engine in such a precarious state I did not want to risk too many collisions. I assumed that as time went on they would disperse further afield from the formerly built up settlements in search of living meat.
I looked out for places where I might find shelter but now I had the truck I assumed I had the leisure to be picky. I was looking for a place with high walls and a large garden, perhaps even a castle, but of these buildings there was no sign. Instead there was village after village packed with revenant after revenant which all merged into one eventually and nothing in between except endless fields. I saw signs for the main roads but these I avoided for I knew they would be packed with abandoned cars and their revenant owners. I saw the mass panic, frozen in time, the cars stopped and crashed, the bloodstains on the road. I saw male and female revenants, the young and the old. Once I even saw a woman lumbering up the road carrying her undead baby in a sling. Humankind: we who were once the monarchs of the planet now reduced to the most base of parasites with not even the free will of a cockroach. And to think that I, the scum of the earth, was one of the only men left alive.
It was mid-afternoon when the truck finally ran out of petrol. I had miscalculated badly. Not wanting to leave the relative safety of my moving vehicle I had ignored tempting prospects by the side of the road. Now, as I wound my way down the various country lanes, I found there was not a truck or car to be seen as the gauge crept agonisingly closer to empty. By the time the thing finally spluttered to a stop I found myself isolated in a narrow road surrounded by thick woodland on either side. Cautiously I unwound the window and listened close. I couldn’t hear any of the inhuman moaning that had characterised my time in the city but that hardly meant a thing. I cursed loudly and slammed my fists down upon the steering wheel. I should have planned it so much better than this. Had I been the man I used to be I would have fared much better. Those eight years inside, with everything being done for me, when I was told when to eat, sleep and shit were what had done for me. I thought back to my journey since leaving the town and realised there had been many opportunities to reach shelter in isolated cottages. I could have taken to the loft and looted as I saw fit, could at least have eaten and I could definitely have found another vehicle had I put my mind to it. Instead I had driven around looking for a miracle, as mindless as the revenants themselves. I needed to get it together. I shook my head to calm myself down then reached behind me and took the rucksack and the hammer. My stomach was rumbling and I needed to find food fast. I got out of the truck and set off on foot down the road in the opposite direction from which I had come.
I had driven too far out. I had sought the wilderness but now I had finally found it there was no place for me to go. I had no aim, no idea where I was going and I did not know how I would define safety even if I were to find it. Nothing lay ahead of me except wide fields, large skies and the open countryside. From time to time I saw a barn, warehouse or other outbuilding but this was no good to me. I needed somewhere with food where I could stay a while. I needed honest to God bricks and mortar where I could hole up on a more permanent basis. I started making my way through woodland. I knew leaving the open ground was a bad idea but I was conscious of the time. Night would fall soon and I had no intention of feeling my way through the darkness in this sort of terrain. I was tired and had never been so hungry. All I wanted was some food and a place to lay my head for a few hours. I considered it a miracle I had survived so far. I was too regimented, too used to having everything done for me in the prison, or at least this is what I told myself. How else could I have made so many elemental mistakes? Then again I was still strong and resourceful, patient too. In waiting out the crisis I had avoided the panicked rush which seemed to have claimed most of the population for the revenants. In prison you learn to act on instinct; to keep your wits about you and your ears open. This is why when I heard the sound of something crashing through the undergrowth I did not immediately assume it was a fox or a deer. Instead I readied the hammer, stepped back and swung as the revenant came flying out of the brambles towards me. The blow smashed its head open but not before it had let out an inhuman cry that was answered almost straight away by several other low groans. I spun around but the noise bounced and echoed off the trees and there was no telling from which direction the revenants were coming. I decided not to wait around and let myself be surrounded and instead ran as fast as I could, carving through the trees as I went.