Move slower. Keep our guard up.”
“So Warrington’s definitely still the destination?”
Hayden thought about it. He tried to picture another possible destination now that the bunker had been overrun, and he realised just how out of options they were. Wanderers. Nothing but wanderers, with a distant hope of a safe place in Warrington in the back of their mind.
“I guess we don’t have a choice,” he said. He walked past Clarice and led the way through the thick trees.
“Whatever happened to ladies first?” she asked.
“Looking out for my sister happened to ladies first.”
And then he stopped.
He stopped because he heard twigs to his left.
Twigs snapping.
Footsteps.
“I don’t remember you being so witty—”
“Ssh,” Hayden said. He held out a hand. Searched the thick leaves of the trees beside him, but couldn’t see any signs of movement. “You … you hear that?”
Clarice frowned. “Hear what?”
Hayden thought maybe he’d been imagining things. Maybe it was just his mind screwing with him.
And then he heard the twigs snapping again.
And this time, he heard the gasps somewhere beyond the twigs.
He became suddenly aware of just how vulnerable he was. Without a weapon—or at least, a weapon that didn’t frigging blast like a gun. Without a weapon and all alone in the woods.
He took his sister’s hand. “We need to get out of here. We need to—”
And then he saw the leaves rustle in front of him.
Saw the branches shake.
He tensed his fists.
Prepared to take on whatever was coming his way.
Newbie tumbled out from the branches, panting, sweating, shaking.
Hayden stared at him in disbelief. His stomach was still going, and his tensed fists had turned to jelly. “Newbie, what—”
“You two might wanna try keeping your voices down,” Newbie said. He looked up and pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “I think I’ve driven our friends off the road. But the bad thing is they’re heading our way.”
Hayden listened to the sounds of the oncoming footsteps, smelled the scent of death, and he readied himself for another bout of running.
----
A lly walked down the centre of the country lane and he knew the dead couldn’t be too far ahead.
The stench of them was still strong in the cold winter air. Smelled like shit. No: way, way worse than shit. Rotting shit mixed with rotting piss smelled with all kinds of awful.
But he knew the living had been here, too.
He walked along the road, Bob, Sammy and the gagged bitch whose name they still hadn’t figured out beside them. The sun poked from behind the thick grey clouds, which were like smoke from an addict’s lungs. The zombies were like a cancer that hung over their every living moment.
He could go places with similes and metaphors, especially when there was jack all else to do these days.
They stopped beside the Range Rover. Ally recognised it right away. The bonnet had got a bit dusty and muddied, and there were things inside—tins, cans, stuff like that—which weren’t there beforehand. He could smell burning from the engine. Always did mess up like that. A problem he’d had ever since he first bought the thing.
Luckily for him, he knew how to fix it.
He turned to Bob, Sammy and the gagged woman and he pointed at the car. “Throw her in the boot. I’ll get this up and running.”
The brunette’s eyes widened as Bob and Sammy opened up the boot of the Range Rover and tossed her inside. He heard the crack of her face against the hard laminate flooring he’d put in there. He kind of liked it.
Used to throw Claudia in there when she pissed him off. Locked her in there for the night. He’d had it custom fitted so a little section acted as a cage. Trapped whoever was in there in complete darkness.
He used to go to sleep to the sounds of her crying and screaming.
Didn’t matter. Lived way out in the countryside. Bitch could scream all she wanted.
Bob and Sammy closed the boot and walked over to Ally, who leaned on
“So Warrington’s definitely still the destination?”
Hayden thought about it. He tried to picture another possible destination now that the bunker had been overrun, and he realised just how out of options they were. Wanderers. Nothing but wanderers, with a distant hope of a safe place in Warrington in the back of their mind.
“I guess we don’t have a choice,” he said. He walked past Clarice and led the way through the thick trees.
“Whatever happened to ladies first?” she asked.
“Looking out for my sister happened to ladies first.”
And then he stopped.
He stopped because he heard twigs to his left.
Twigs snapping.
Footsteps.
“I don’t remember you being so witty—”
“Ssh,” Hayden said. He held out a hand. Searched the thick leaves of the trees beside him, but couldn’t see any signs of movement. “You … you hear that?”
Clarice frowned. “Hear what?”
Hayden thought maybe he’d been imagining things. Maybe it was just his mind screwing with him.
And then he heard the twigs snapping again.
And this time, he heard the gasps somewhere beyond the twigs.
He became suddenly aware of just how vulnerable he was. Without a weapon—or at least, a weapon that didn’t frigging blast like a gun. Without a weapon and all alone in the woods.
He took his sister’s hand. “We need to get out of here. We need to—”
And then he saw the leaves rustle in front of him.
Saw the branches shake.
He tensed his fists.
Prepared to take on whatever was coming his way.
Newbie tumbled out from the branches, panting, sweating, shaking.
Hayden stared at him in disbelief. His stomach was still going, and his tensed fists had turned to jelly. “Newbie, what—”
“You two might wanna try keeping your voices down,” Newbie said. He looked up and pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “I think I’ve driven our friends off the road. But the bad thing is they’re heading our way.”
Hayden listened to the sounds of the oncoming footsteps, smelled the scent of death, and he readied himself for another bout of running.
----
A lly walked down the centre of the country lane and he knew the dead couldn’t be too far ahead.
The stench of them was still strong in the cold winter air. Smelled like shit. No: way, way worse than shit. Rotting shit mixed with rotting piss smelled with all kinds of awful.
But he knew the living had been here, too.
He walked along the road, Bob, Sammy and the gagged bitch whose name they still hadn’t figured out beside them. The sun poked from behind the thick grey clouds, which were like smoke from an addict’s lungs. The zombies were like a cancer that hung over their every living moment.
He could go places with similes and metaphors, especially when there was jack all else to do these days.
They stopped beside the Range Rover. Ally recognised it right away. The bonnet had got a bit dusty and muddied, and there were things inside—tins, cans, stuff like that—which weren’t there beforehand. He could smell burning from the engine. Always did mess up like that. A problem he’d had ever since he first bought the thing.
Luckily for him, he knew how to fix it.
He turned to Bob, Sammy and the gagged woman and he pointed at the car. “Throw her in the boot. I’ll get this up and running.”
The brunette’s eyes widened as Bob and Sammy opened up the boot of the Range Rover and tossed her inside. He heard the crack of her face against the hard laminate flooring he’d put in there. He kind of liked it.
Used to throw Claudia in there when she pissed him off. Locked her in there for the night. He’d had it custom fitted so a little section acted as a cage. Trapped whoever was in there in complete darkness.
He used to go to sleep to the sounds of her crying and screaming.
Didn’t matter. Lived way out in the countryside. Bitch could scream all she wanted.
Bob and Sammy closed the boot and walked over to Ally, who leaned on
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