The Screaming (Book 1): Dead City (13 page)
Gradually the remaining screamers who had defiantly and faithfully remained at the base of the truck, started to capitulate to their primal hunger, and started moving around nearby cars for other sources of food. Suddenly a distant screeching beast signalled his fellow genus, some poor unsuspecting sole had become the hare, and the wolves were closing in. The scattering of infected below, snapped their heads to the northern tunnel entrance from whence the echoing call originated. A harmonious shriek boomed around the cavernous arches, like a starting pistol in a sprint race, firing the battling competitors into a full gallop, bounding over cars and out into the hunt.
The pungent breeze, blowing through the tunnel offered the only sound for some time. Finally Zac braved a look over the side of the truck. His muscles creaked and he muffled a cringing gasp as the pain of laying still for so long took its toll on his joints. The tunnel flaunted a strange motionless tranquillity.
“I think they’re gone!” Zac said, looking back at Fee, waiting expectantly.
“Are you sure?”
He took another minute to scrutinise the tunnel, before turning to Fee once again, and offering a reassuring nod. They slowly slid to the floor and cautiously tip-toed through the vehicle laden minefield until they reached the southern entrance.
“Do you think they’re on this side of the river?” Fee asked with a hopeful tone.
“I think so. You saw the bridges and tunnels. They must be!”
They cautiously emerged from the tunnel into the fresh night air, finding themselves flanked by large brick walls on either side, carrying the road back up to street level. To their right a large set of worn concrete steps offered a quick route up to the road. Baron streets stretched off in every direction. They hurried past what remained of a plundered convenience store, stripped of its stock and smouldering in an ash covered pile of bricks and timber. Suddenly Zac stopped in his tracks.
“What is it?” Fee enquired.
“SSHH! Listen!” Zac sharply hissed.
The dull booming clamour raised from beneath their feet, building, louder and louder. A chorus of breathless wheezing and groaning burst from the ground all around them. Zac rushed to the tunnel wall and scrutinised the tunnel entrance from which they had emerged moments before. A myriad of sprinting screamers exploded from the pitch black cavern, engulfing the road like a deluge of bodies surging through the streets.
“Run!” he screamed, as he turned and grabbed Fee by the hand.
The surging pain in their feet and joints was again thrown to the backs of their minds as adrenaline once again catapulted them down the street. The screams of the fore runners stifled the rumble of hundreds of feet bounding towards them as the fleeing nourishment were targeted. Zac lead, dragging Fee down a side street to the rear of the underground station, which Zac was very keen to avoid. Several fore runners lost their footing into the tight turn and were heedlessly trampled and crushed by their equally ravenous pursuers.
The dark narrow street opened up into a once prosperous riverside area of converted industrial buildings and apartments. The left hand side was the first to open up on to an esplanade, which Zac and Fee rapidly opted for. Zac forced air into his burning lungs, and fought through the pain of his febrile body, as he rebelliously refused to quit. They strode onto another narrow street, laid with cobble stones, which opened out into a court yard area. At its centre, was a substantial brick built Victorian church. Tall arched stain glass windows, donned each flank and both wings. A looming steeple stood proudly over the west wing, incorporating an old clock. The grand old building was ringed by a low wall with cast iron railings on top, which enclosed a small grave yard.
“Over there.” Shouted Zac.
Fee was one step ahead and already making a bee line for the wall. Masticating jaws, started to snap as the primary pursuing creatures closed in to within inches of the bolting duo, who didn’t break stride as they threw themselves at the ridge of the low wall, scrambled up the railings and tumbled into the old grave yard.
Chapter Ten
Ribs popped and stomach cavities exploded under intense pressure. A warm fine spray floated over Zac and Fee as they scurried away from the crammed railings. Tens of stampeding monsters continued cascading into the court yard and thrusting themselves into the rear of the pack, each one battling and clawing for advantage over the others. Twisted wrenched arms grasped through the railings, scraping at the air in desperation to reach the prize. Pressure built on the fore runners, pinned to the railings by the immense swarm, building behind. Heads crushed between the tight metal posts, until skulls cracked and burst. Blood filled eyes exploded from sockets and compressed bodies slumped, lifeless and limp.
“Move!” Zac grabbed a startled Fee and they ran up to the church.
“We need to get inside.”
Stalking infected, began breaking off from the main pack and circling the wall on the flanks, frantically searching for a way into the compound. Zac ran to a large wooden door and ragged at the handle with both hands. But the big oak barrier wouldn’t shift. Zac snarled out loud in a recipe of fear and frustration. They rounded the north wing, eyeballing every inch of the building for a way inside. Another bolted door told a similar story to the last, no way in here! Fee scanned the area for inspiration, and approached two plastic rubbish bins to the right of the door. One contained grass cuttings, dead flowers and weeds. The second was empty. She grasped the empty bin by the handles and with a grunt raised it above her head, before swinging it at one of the windows.
Glass shattered and lead beading bent and wilted. Zac’s eyes widened. He grabbed the bin from Fee and repeatedly swung it at the window shattering panels of historic glass, until the hole was large enough to climb through.
“Go, Go.” Zac yelled.
Fee wasted no time in gaining a footing on the grass filled bin, leaping up into the window frame and toppling into the dark dusty church. Zac already had his foot ready on the bin to follow Fee inside. Out of nowhere, Zac felt his legs fall from under him, and he toppled from the bin, crashing to the floor. He snapped his head up to see a skinny man standing over him, his blood stained ripped t-shirt nearly hanging to the floor, large bite marks in his shoulder, revealed a shattered, splintering clavicle and frothy blood seeped through his fragmented incisors.
How did he get in? A question that was too unimportant to waste time on, the fact was he had found a way in. Zac kicked at the slender, wiry male, catching him square in the knee cap with a cracking pop. Though pain was clearly not a factor, the stumble back it caused, rewarded Zac with vital seconds, in which to gain his feet. The male, quickly regained his balance and thrust at Zac, who let out a resolute cry. Like a soldier on a bayonet charge, Zac hurtled at the man, tackling him around the waist and thrusting him against the railings with a bone shaking crunch.
He didn’t pause to see the damage he had caused to the willowy creature as it slumped to the floor, but turned and ran. He dropped into the church, striking the cold stone floor with a thump. He slowly rolled over to see Fee wrestling to balance a small table on top of a pew over the damaged window. He struggled to his feet and wedged the table in place.
“Will it hold?” Fee surveyed.
“I don’t know!”
The interior of the church was a surprisingly clean and bright room. Its white walls reflected an unusual amount of natural light from outside. Large round pillars reached up to the arched Renaissance style ceiling and a huge gold gilded Alter took pride of place at the head of the room. Zac approached the Alter. A prayer?
“Bit late for that.” he thought.
An excerpt from the bible took pride of place at the top of the Alter.
“WORTHY IS THE LAMB THAT WAS SLAIN.”
Zac started to chuckle.
“What is it?” Fee asked.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter. Let’s find the stairs to the clock tower.”
A green curtain covered a small doorway to the wooden stairs, which spiralled up into a small room. Wooden slatted windows sat above ageing clock faces on all four sides of the tower, with the mechanism taking pride of place in the middle of the room. Zac limped his bruised aching body over to one of the windows, dusted away a flurry of cobwebs and peered through the gap in the slats. The swelling multitude of infected screamers had breached the railings and the grave yard was now concealed under a bulk of ravenous people.
Further out, the fog was drifting back in across the river, with fires on the north bank spreading with an intense dark orange glow. Intense screams broke irregular periods of relative silence.
“How’s it looking out there?” Fee optimistically pleaded.
“They’re moving away, I think we’re safe here.” he lied.
“That’s good then.” she smiled.
“Yeah.”
Zac took her by the hand, and she rested her head on his shoulder. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he just wanted to give her this moment of peace. Because he knew the truth, and the truth was terrifying. The city was lost. The city was dead.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to all the people that helped make my dream of publishing a reality. In particular I would like to thank my mother and father for their support and encouragement.
Particular thanks goes to the following people.
Carol Warwick, Proof reader
Lynda Phillips, Proof reader
First issue: May 2016
Cover and graphics
RUBINE CREATIVE
Graphic Design & web solutions
The second book in the series, THE SCREAMING: REFUGE is due for release in winter 2016.
