Safe Haven, page 8
Mike stepped towards her, and she slapped him across the face. He saw it coming and readied his cheek for impact. She slapped him again and then burst out crying, collapsing against him, "Why did you do it? Why did you do it?" Only now, Mike sensed the question was no longer aimed at him but towards her unconscious brother. Mike put his arm around Jules, and she clenched his t-shirt as she hid her sobbing face in his chest. As he held her, he looked around at the broken faces. She had kept all these people together and safe, and now as they watched her unravel, so their own hope unravelled, too. He looked across to Lucy who continued to examine fresh patients.
Mike took a tight hold of Jules's shoulders and pushed her away. "Listen to me Jules. We're going to get out of here. All of us. But I need your help, and I need it now." Jules's sobs came to a teetering halt, ready to begin again if this virtual stranger's statement turned out to be nothing but an empty promise.
"That van we kept in the other car park... we have to get to it now." He immediately began to lead her away, she looked around as if to question what the hell was going on, but then she allowed herself to be swept into the moment. Andy had scrambled back to his feet in a daze.
Mike looked round to see Emma was still following a few paces behind him. "Em, organise these people now. Once we're out of here, throw as much debris as you can up against this entrance. Get people armed and ready to fight. Anything comes through, you kill it. I'm going to try and lead them away. When you think it's safe, lead them out of the back. Get onto the A835, that was clear when I came in. Get them back to Lonbaig. I'll catch up with you later."
"Mike..," There was so much she wanted to say, but nowhere near enough time. She wanted to tell him that Lucy was scared and she hadn't meant what she said, she wanted to tell him that she didn't want him to go, she wanted to tell him, she loved him and she was proud of him. "Please...be careful."
He stopped in his tracks, "I love you, sis."
"I love you too."
***
"Lorelei, oh Lorelei, darling," sang Fry to the young woman who was in a deep, chemically-induced sleep. Light was beginning to bleed through the curtains. The hotel room looked like it had been used by a 1980s hair metal band. There were drinks cans and drug paraphernalia scattered around, and Lorelei and her companion had clearly been very active before their deep sleep as underwear and clothing littered the room. Fry bent down and looked closer at her sleeping face. She was a good looking girl, she had a surgically enhanced figure which most men drooled over, but rather than feeling sexual impulses towards her, all Fry could think of was how much he was going to enjoy mentally torturing her for all the hell she had put him through.
He went around to the other side of the bed to see a typical Lorelei selection. The man was probably a little younger than Lorelei, almost definitely not as experienced, and he slept with a smile on his face—the contented smile of an idiot. Fry took out his knife, and plunged it deep into the man's throat while simultaneously putting his knee on his victim's chest and covering the man's mouth with his free hand. The victim's eye's shot open, but by the time he understood what was happening, he was already gurgling his last bubbles. Fry's weight prevented the convulsions from disturbing Lorelei too much on the luxury king size bed, but the man made enough of a ruckus for Lorelei to moan in agitation before returning to the depths of her sleep. When he was sure there was no life left, Fry withdrew his knife and looked at the treacly blood as it ran down the blade, over the hilt, and onto his hand. There was part of him that regretted not being able to share this with his beloved Juliet. What wonders that woman had introduced him to since she had come into his life, but no, Juliet would get to play with Lorelei later on, it was only right, only fitting that it was Fry who broke the news to her of her father's sad demise.
He stood up and watched as the blanket sponged the blood from the dead man, like a kitchen towel soaking up red wine. Fry smiled. He had been on the police force most of his working life, and for most of his working life, he had also been on The Don's payroll. He had money, women, and he could do and get away with whatever he wanted, but it was power that he really craved. All these years he had played second fiddle to The Don, he had reaped untold benefits, but it was the need for total control, total domination that drove him to want more. It didn't matter that the world had been ravaged by a virus, it didn't matter that undead creatures roamed the streets of the cities and towns stalking the living like vengeful parasites. What mattered was that he had power, he could do whatever he wanted without ever having to answer to anyone. He wanted the world to be at his feet.
Fry slowly moved around the bed, switching his gaze from the sleeping girl to the expanding lake of blood and then back again. He bent down once more.
"Lorelei," he said softly, "Lorelei," he repeated, once again to no avail. "Fuck this," he said underneath his breath, then moved his face to within an inch of hers. "Lorelei!" he yelled as if it was a battle cry.
Lorelei's eyes shot open in panic which intensified when she saw Fry. She frantically moved her hand back to grab her companion, baffled as to why he hadn't jolted awake with Fry's yawp. She felt something warm and wet and immediately pulled her hand out from under the covers. Her eyes were still adjusting to the dim morning light, but from its hue, consistency and coppery smell, she knew immediately it was blood. She sat upright and pulled the covers back in one move only to see the gory remains of her one-night stand. Her head looked towards Fry, then she leapt over the dead figure to stand naked on the other side of the bed. She looked down at Fry's hand and saw the crimson knife, thick droplets slowly washing over the blade's tip and falling onto the carpet.
"My dad's going to fucking kill you for this, you sick bastard!" she screamed before running to the door.
She twisted the handle only to find out it was locked. She looked across at Fry who bent down and pulled something from underneath the bed before hiding it behind his back. Her actions became more frantic, pulling at the handle and kicking the wood as she saw Fry start moving towards her. She looked around the room in desperation and finally ran to the bathroom and locked the door.
"I'm warning you Fry," she shouted through the wood, "you come near me and there won't be anything you can do or say. My dad'll fucking crucify you!" Her voice was shaky and it made Fry's heart flutter just a little.
He had never known this spoilt little bitch to be anything other than totally full of herself, and now to hear fear in her voice, to hear uncertainty, it was empowering. He knocked on the door three times.
"Come on now Lorelei...come and play with your Uncle Fry," he said with a maniacal grin.
He heard a latch being unlocked on a window and realised Lorelei was trying to make an escape. He stepped back and with one forceful boot, kicked the solid pine door in. The handle and lock remained frozen in place for a second before falling to the ground while the rest of the door swung inwards. Lorelei, still naked and terrified, fumbled to get the window up, but it was too late, she could feel Fry behind her. He pushed himself against her naked back, and she turned, edging into a corner, forcing daylight between the two of them. He was a powerful, muscular man, but there was no way she would give up without a fight.
"Whatever you do to me, you piece of shit, it will be the last thing you do. My dad will make fucking mince meat out of you!" she spat.
"About that, sweetheart," he said with one hand still behind his back. "Your dad has got to leave us. But I told him he could kiss you goodbye before he went."
Her face became confused for a moment, not understanding what Fry was saying, then as he brought his hand around revealing The Don's severed head with his tongue unnaturally protruding beyond his lips. She realised her life was over. Her hysterical scream nearly deafened Fry, but if he was to lose his hearing, he could have no sweeter sound to accompany him for his remaining years.
"Now give daddy a kiss!" he yelled, widening his eyes in excitement as he pushed The Don's severed head into the screaming girl's face.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mike and Jules stood on top of the smouldering wreckage of the storefront. The pair looked out past the vast car park, beyond the dual carriage way and to where Mike had heard the rumble of an untold number of RAMs a few hours before.
"Here they come," he said, spotting the first figures emerging. "We've probably got three minutes before they get here."
"So what's the plan?" Jules asked, nervously.
"We get to one of the vans, try and draw the RAMs away from here while our people get out of the city."
"That's it?" she asked, disbelieving. "No fuckin’ offence? The way your girlfriend and sister talked about you, I thought you'd be the Second Coming. That sounds like the worst fuckin’ plan I've ever heard."
"You swear a lot for a girl don't you?"
"Go fuck yourself."
"Lead on," Mike said.
"Y'what?"
"Take me to the feckin’ vans y'big eejit," replied Mike, mimicking her Irish accent. "You understand that?"
"Smart arsed little shit," replied Jules before quickly climbing down the mountain of debris and breaking into a sprint towards the neighbouring superstore.
As they ran, Mike pulled out a flare from his backpack and ignited it, and a burst of bright green flame erupted into life. He began waving it around aggressively, and as more beasts emerged over the carriageway, he could see in the breaking light of day that their attention had been snatched by the bright, rapid movement.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Jules shouted.
"The thing about a decoy is it only works if it's being followed," he replied sprinting faster to join her.
"I thought we were going to get into the van first?"
"Jules, by the time we get to the van, they would already be in the store. Now stop talking and run," he ordered, continuing to wave the flare around.
***
"Right, everybody, listen up," shouted Emma. All movement and nervous chatter in the interior of the store halted, and she felt a moment's self-consciousness, but then cast it aside remembering that her brother was once again risking everything to try and keep her and those around her safe. "Get the children and the injured into the back. Everybody else, pick up your weapons and get ready to fight." She looked around to see the frightened faces in the dim light of the interior. The odd glint of fear sparkled in the flames still burning at the front of the store. "Listen to me. I know how you feel. I know what you're thinking. A few weeks ago I was in your shoes. I was scared, I was weak, and all I wanted to do was hide. But in the end, you run out of places to hide, and the only option is to stand and fight." She looked towards Sarah and Lucy who had stopped treating the injured to listen. "Right now, we need to make a stand until it's safe for us to leave. So swallow your fear, swallow your doubts and join me at the front with your weapons."
Emma looked around at the faces, picked up her rifle, flung the strap over her shoulder, picked up a spear and marched to the mountain of wreckage at the store front without another word. At first no one followed her, but then Sarah looked towards the injured, then looked towards Emma. If the RAMs made it in, saving the injured would become a redundant issue anyway. She picked up a wooden spear that had been made earlier in the day and went to join Emma at the front.
"That was the bravest thing I've ever heard," she said quietly as she walked up to her friend.
"Thanks, but given a choice of being in here or being out there, I'd take this option every time. You want bravery, think of Mike and Jules," she said as she began adding to the mountain of rubble, trying to build as big a barrier as she could between her and the outside.
***
"Shit, there's a fence?"
"Course there's a fence, what do you expect?" replied Jules beginning her ascent of the chain links.
"Where's the van?"
"They're round the back in the loading bay."
Mike pushed the flare through one of the holes and quickly climbed over.
"Listen to me Jules, we can't afford to let them lose sight of us." He pulled the shotgun out of the back of his rucksack and pumped it ready for action. "Right, this is ready to shoot, you just aim and pull the trigger. When it's fired, pump it like you just saw me do and fire again. Only use it as a last resort." He picked up the flare and began waving it to make sure the RAMs didn't lose sight of them.
"What the fuck are you talking about? That fence won't hold with all those things attacking it," she said, looking out towards the sea of moving bodies, the hundreds of running feet pounding on the tarmac almost drowning out the excited growls of hunger.
"You're wasting time, Jules. Get the van and get back here. If you're too late for me, then lead them away from here, then when you think you're far enough, put your foot down as hard as you can and just get the hell out of town." He began waving his arms around once again and skipping sideways in order to keep the attention of the advancing hordes.
Jules was frozen to the spot. "That's fuckin’ madness Mike."
"Just go Jules. A lot of people are depending on you."
Reluctantly, she turned and ran, looking down at the shotgun as she went. This was insane. She was just a girl from Belfast, she liked going out with her mates and playing football. How the hell had she ended up here? She scanned the area as she ran, making sure there was no movement on her side of the fence. She made it to the corner of the building and paused, giving one last look back towards the flimsy chain link barrier before disappearing. The animated figure with the flare was still dancing up and down, and as her eyes adjusted to the light more and more, she could see the size of the army of beasts heading towards him.
"Jesus, Mary, Mother of God!"
***
Emma had arranged three rows of lancers. Each row consisted of twenty-five people, each person had a sharp spear and one other weapon for close combat such as a screwdriver or hatchet. The second row was two metres back from the first, the third row, two metres back from that. She had quickly explained that if the RAMs broke through the first row, it was the job of the second to take over and so on. Her hope was that not a single RAM would appear over the wall of wreckage, but that would probably be asking too much. The small army stood in virtual silence listening to the thundering steps of the masses of beasts surging across the car park.
Emma and Sarah stood next to each other in the centre of the front row. Directly to the right of Emma stood Beth, just a few weeks earlier, a meek farm girl, now, a battle hardened soldier. They waited, tense, nervous, edgy. The three of them kept throwing glances back past the ranks assembled behind them, to Lucy and her deputies as they frantically got the children, the old, and the injured out of harm’s way.
***
As the first of the RAMs flung itself at the fence, Mike pulled out a machete from his rucksack and thrust the blade through the gap in the chain links and straight into the creature's eye. Immediately, other RAMs smashed against the chain link barrier, making it bow a little more with each impact. Mike withdrew the blade watching the grey face, tinged green in the light of the emergency flare, stare back at him with its one lifeless eye. The pressure from the RAMs that had already piled up behind the creature, kept it in place, not allowing it to fall to the floor. Mike took a step back, and then another. Suddenly, there were no visible gaps. The RAMs had caught up, and now the ones at the front were being thrust hard against the fence. Their contorted grey faces and bodies being squeezed like rotten meat through a mincing machine.
As more and more creatures pushed forward, what once looked like a sturdy divide became less and less secure. The metal shifted and creaked under the weight and force of the RAMs. Mike took several more steps back, each pace whipping the creatures to a greater frenzy. An explosion sounded to the back of him. He knew only too well that it was the distinctive signature of the shotgun. It rang out again. He watched as many of the RAMs heads turned in that direction, tantalised by the possibility of finding further prey beyond the lump of fresh meat that stood just beyond the fence. He hoped that Jules had made it to one of the vans. If she hadn't, it was all over. Over the cacophonous dirge of the growling creatures, Mike heard other sounds, popping sounds, followed by a grinding throb of concrete on concrete. He looked up and down the line of fencing to see two of the large stone fence posts had been uprooted and the integrity of the entire divide was beginning to crumble.
"Oh fuck!" His voice was lost in the roar of the creatures.
Another loud crack resonated in the early morning air, and as if in slow motion, the fencing began to collapse forward. The first of the creatures collapsed with it, but the ones behind climbed over them as if they were nothing more than rocks or mounds of dirt.
Mike's morbid curiosity lasted just milliseconds as the reality of the situation snapped him back into action. He turned and began to sprint as fast as he could.
He remembered when he had been back in Skelton trying to escape fifty of these things, now there were hundreds, possibly even thousands. He remembered how they didn't seem to tire, but how he had. He remembered becoming more desperate with each metre he ran and eventually making the decision to trap himself in that house, that, but for one moment of inspiration could have been his tomb. That day had been like a walk in the park compared to this ordeal.
He bolted across the enormous car park, for the first few metres not daring to look back, just trying to put as much distance between him and the beasts as possible. It was only after a few seconds that he realised at the other side was another fence, and even from this distance and in such dim light he could see three threatening strands of barbed wire adorning the top of it. Even if he made it across there before the RAMs, he would probably get caught on the barbed wire and dragged back down to a grisly demise.
The noise behind him was constant, but it echoed throughout the otherwise still morning, so Mike couldn't gauge where the creatures were in relation to him. He turned his head, catching a peek and wished he hadn't. It reminded him of a scene from one of his beloved samurai films; countless charging warriors heading to a bloody battle, except now, they were not brave samurai. They had been replaced by bloodthirsty monsters, and they weren't exactly charging towards battle as much as charging towards breakfast.
