The path in front of her appeared momentarily clear of people. She inched out, crawling on all fours, then got to her knees and sprinted across the verge then road, not daring to look laterally. The gunfire started up immediately, the feeling of shards of concrete being kicked up by the projectiles, slicing across her legs, as she drove into the wall of smoke, almost tripping over a mound of fabric, but instead charged up the slope, using her hands to pull her forward.

  A breeze removed the smog from her view, revealing a row of tents, one of which, Mavis’ was still mostly standing. She ran up the embankment, pulling the tent entrance open to an empty space and swore.

  Another scream caused her to hide inside. As she waited, the anguished sounds continued and then came the heavy thuds of people running.

  She peered outside. A group was fleeing but from what, she couldn’t see as the smoke was too thick.

  A man grabbed her arm, pulling her involuntarily out of the tent, joining those that were scrambling to get away, running along the muddy path in front of the tents. “This way!” he screamed at her as she became lost in the melee which was now a stampeded.

  The snips of bullets slicing through the particle filled night air were all around. Grace had no idea or control over where she was going, only being able to tell that it was mostly in one direction, towards the woods that were to the north of the camp.

  The group of thirty something people flooded into the dark cover of the trees, where others had been waiting, some with their own weapons which were being used to stop the encroachment of those that had already murdered hundreds.

  “This way!” shouted a woman that Grace recognised as the leader of the camp, Ada. “Quickly!”

  Grace got close enough as they all ran through the undergrowth to pose a question. “Where are we going?!”

  “To the shore! We have to get to the boats!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  JOE

  A strong gust hit Joe as he tried to hold Liz upright, with help from his daughter. Hope was held in his other hand. They were standing on the pebbled beach, as hulls that stood a few storeys high clanged against each other, pulling against their moorings, the sea growing ever more choppy by the minute. High above, clouds drifted across the night sky, which was lit in the distance by intense flashes of orange light.

  Between two of the smaller ships, ones that were still roughly keeping their position amongst the waves, a light sparkled and a motorboat engine could be heard, growing closer.

  “I think that’s him!” shouted Joe.

  “What about the others!” replied Liz, her cane not providing much balanced support due to sinking into the sand. She looked up, above the slope of small rocks and seaweed to where Baldwin was watching the cave and the shoreline.

  “They know to come here! They can catch up!” Joe looked back to the oily black of the sea and the small shape that was crashing through the pale grey surf. “Enzo!” he shouted while waving.

  Someone was shouting, their words being taken by the wind. For a moment, he thought it was the Spaniard, but then Baldwin’s utterances cut through the white noise.

  “Get down!”

  Before Joe and his family could fully react, a line of neon tracer fire erupted from somewhere along the beach, the projectiles coming close enough to be heard smashing into rocks. Others were returning fire, their bullets equally lighting up the dark beach which stretched along the base of the rocky cliffs.

  A hand grabbed hold of Liz’s shoulder, helping her up, as Joe did the same to Hope and Tia, all three including Baldwin staggering down the final stretch of shore into the surf.

  Joe and Enzo helped Liz fall into the rubber boat, then Tia and Hope.

  “Come on!” shouted Joe at Baldwin, who was kneeling amongst the waves, her newly acquired rifle firing shots into the darkness, where the shifting shadows were firing back.

  Enzo reversed the engine, the boat surging backwards and Baldwin ran into the sea, tossing her weapon to Joe who snapped it from the air, then lunged over the side to grab hold of the marine, pulling her up, over and into the boat.

  “Hold on!” shouted Enzo as he changed the throttle, and pulled on the tiller, sharply turning the into the tide, where it rose and fell, but made good progress into the ocean.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  LAUREN

  The nature of the muffled pops and booms was confirmed by the dry, peppery odor which hung in the air as Lauren led the five individuals along the woodland path. Ember’s baby was crying. Its shrill vocal sounds echoing around the barks and branches, as the group made their way to what they hoped would be some kind of salvation.

  “It’s got to be the orange suits,” said Mathew, pushing a branch from his face. “They have attacked the camps.”

  “We just need to get… to…”

  Lauren’s words failed her as they emerged from the woods at a particularly high point on the island, giving them an almost unrestricted view of the forests and valleys of western part of the landscape, which was submerged in a rolling black fog, interspersed by the orange glow of multiple fires.

  “Is that camp two?” enquired Martin.

  Lauren nodded. “I think so…” She nodded to the northwest and the twinkling lights on the horizon. “That’s where we need… What are you doing?”

  Mathew had stepped off the path onto the soft tufts of grass that moved down a slope into more of the woods, most of which was just a void lacking any definition. He leaned forward. “I think… there’s something moving down there.”

  “Maybe we should keep going,” said Clara.

  “No… no, look! There’s someone down there!”

  Lauren could see them. A bundle of shadows that were making hard work of running up the steep incline. But they were not alone. Other darker patches were not far behind. A shifting blackness that was hard to make out but couldn’t be ignored.

  Martin backed away, towards where the path was swallowed by the woods again. “I don’t know about this…”

  “It’s a woman!” said Mathew. “And there’s…”

  Fangs and fur bounded up the slope jumping on Mathew who yelled, stepping backwards, falling over his own feet as the dog barked at him.

  Lauren switched her attention back to the middle-aged female, that was clawing at the ground to try to gain height or perhaps distance on those behind her.

  “Help!” shouted the woman, who Lauren was beginning to recognise.

  Martin pulled on Ember’s shoulder, seeing what they could all now see was only a hundred feet away, down the side of the hill. Figures were also clawing, not at the ground but at the air, their eyes small silver discs reflecting Lauren’s torchlight which she kept sweeping across the undead almost on top of the woman.

  Lauren whipped around to Ember and Mathew. “Run!” As they were submerged within the trees, she and Clara moved in the opposite direction, partially down the slope, grabbing Maggie, dragging her the final few yards to the top of the slope.

  “My son! Have you seen—”

  “We have to run!”

  With the dog they ran, half pulling the older woman with them who kept turning around and screaming at the horde that was within the darkness. The dog barked, sensing what was behind them. Shadows were clambering over the verge and onto the path.

  Lauren kept glancing back, trying to make out how far away the undead were, and even though she couldn’t see them as it was too dark, she could hear their grunts and scrambling to catch up.

  She almost ran into the back of Mathew as he half-tumbled down an embankment of shrubs and sharp branches onto the concrete of a road, she following. It took her a moment to realise she was standing within the cones of illumination from headlights.

  At the edge of the trees still, Clara shouted at whoever owned the vehicle. “They’re—” Her words were knocked from her mouth as a body of furious intent slammed into the back of her, taking her and it down the slope, spilling onto the hard ground. She threw her arms up to stop the thing’s head from dipping lower, the clicks from its jaw clear and obvious as it tried to latch onto her hand.

  Its skull exploded, showering her and the concrete with its brain matter. She scrambled out from beneath the still quivering corpse, trying to make out who had just saved her. A stocky figure jogged forward, offering a hand, which she took.

  Swanson pulled her to her feet.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  JOE

  Joe held Tia and Hope within one arm, Liz the other, while firmly planting his boots to keep him moored to his seat on the small boat, which rose and fell with the turbulent waves.

  Lights twinkled across a gargantuan hull they were approaching, the rough sea seemingly having no effect on the huge cruise liner.

  Enzo shouted into his radio then pointed to the side of the ship which loomed over them. “They’re lowering one of the lifeboats!”

  “What about our friends?” said Liz.

  “Si, Si. I will go back and find them!”

  The white wooden lifeboat crashed down into the surging waves, and Enzo manoeuvred the dingy alongside, leaning over and tieing a rope between both vessels. “Climb across!” he shouted into the constant sea spray.

  Baldwin jumped first, then as Joe got his balance, helped Joe lift Hope into the other boat, quickly followed by Tia and with some help from Enzo, Liz as well.

  Finally Joe looked back at the Spaniard. “Thank you!”

  “Ok, my friend!”

  Joe turned and scrambled into the lifeboat which immediately rose, being winched into the sky. Joe and Liz held the two children close, as the boat swung and hit up against the massive hull. Thankfully, the journey was short and the boat was soon pulled over the deck and lowered. Two men were operating the mechanical winch, while another man in a rain Mac was waiting for his new guests.

  He offered his hand to Joe who took it. “Hello! I’m chief officer, Jeff Banks! Please come with me!”

  Joe helped Liz along the deck, which tilted back and forth, then through a hatch. Banks closed and sealed the curved door behind them. “Look’s like another bad one. Do any of you need medical assistance?”

  “No, we’re fine. But do you know what’s happening on the island?”

  Bank’s frowned. “Nothing good. The foreign troops have attacked the camps. I can take you to a cabin.”

  Joe looked at his wife. She understood and nodded and he looked back at the officer. “I need to talk with your captain.”

  Banks paused for a moment. “He’s kind of busy.”

  “It’s important.”

  “Ok, fine.” He swung around and pointed to a nearby set of stairs. “Go up two decks, the signs for the bridge are obvious. I’ll get your wife and children into their cabin. Room, twenty-five B!”

  “I’ll be with you soon,” said Joe then ran up the stairs, following the directions along the narrow corridors until he saw the hatch ahead, marked bridge and moved inside. Two men who were standing at the large wrap around console, immediately looked at him, while the third, an older grey-haired man, ignored him, instead looking out of the windows to the island.

  “You can’t be up here,” said one of the men, but Joe ignored him, instead, joining the captain in observing the orange streaks and glows across the hilly land mass, half a mile away.

  “And who are you, coming here to my bridge?” said the older man without turning around.

  “Joe Halter. Major in the British army. Just came onboard with my family, and a very special child…”

  The captain finally turned and calmly looked at Joe. “I presume you mention this child for a reason?”

  Joe nodded to the destruction across the island. “All of that is happening because of her. The foreign troops are looking for her…”

  The captain’s eyes grew large despite his brow tightening. “And you have brought this child here?”

  “They are killing everyone, to get to her! The only chance we have is to keep her from them!”

  One of the younger officers who was wearing headphones turned around. “Sir, I’m receiving a broadcast from the island. It’s on a few channels.”

  “Put it on the main speaker.”

  Crackles were quickly followed by an anxious voice, with others in the background. “To anyone that hears this! Evacuate the island! If you can get to a boat or ship, do so! The foreigners are killing everyone! Escape to the sea!”

  The captain looked at his radio officer. “Can you respond?”

  “It’s transmission only. Played on a loop.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  GRACE

  Grace and around thirty others, crouched at the edge of a wall of trees, watching the neon streaks fly back and forth across the smoke filled landscape. Beyond was the ocean, full of different kinds of light. Cones from spotlights swept the sky as points sparkled on the horizon.

  “How do we know which side are the good guys?” said a middle-aged woman to Grace’s right, grime smeared across her face.

  Ada was to the doctor’s left and pointed in the same direction. “The path to the caves is there. They’re holding the foreigners back for now. But that won’t last if the foreigners bring in reinforcements.”

  Behind Grace, a man was crying while others cradled each other.

  “Where are we going to live?” said another woman.

  Ada turned around. “We have to leave this place. We can use the boats.”

  “Leave?!” said an older man. “Are you insane? How many of us here know how to pilot a boat or a ship? We don’t even know if—”

  A large boom cut his argument short, making everyone duck lower for a moment, until they raised a little higher, peering again through the undergrowth.

  “We’re going to have run across this open area,” said Ada. “We’re go five or six at a time. That way the foreigner’s shouldn’t see us if we keep low. First group get close to the tree line.”

  A group of three men and two women looked at each other, not wanting to move.

  “Come on!” shouted Ada. “Or do you want to die here?”

  Begrudgingly they shuffled forward, waiting at the last piece of cover, before the wide open space of uneven ground and small clumps of bushes.

  The group ran out from the branches, hopping and skipping over the tufts of grass, crouching as the battle continued just a mile further on. With the others, Grace watched, the sound of her heart beating in her ears almost as loud as the battle.

  The group made it to the other side, moving back into the wall of trees.

  “Next group!” shouted Ada.

  Those around Grace moved forward, taking her with them. She stood at the edge of the long reeds and shrubs, tracking the lines of tracer fire flying over the far treetops.

  “Go!” someone shouted, pushing the doctor who stumbled over the grass as screams rang out from those behind. She turned, catching glimpses of angry faces appearing from the darkness, as everyone rushed forward, taking her with them.

  Within the stamped she ran, being pulled and pushed over the bumpy ground. Something scratched at her neck, making it sting but she kept going, running towards the welcoming embrace of the trees.

  “Get down!”

  She wasn’t sure of who shouted the command, but it was said with enough conviction for her to dive forward onto the grass as a torrent of gunfire erupted in front of her, projectiles slicing through the bodies that had been trying to catch and eat those that were running.

  The clatter of gunfire continued as she held her head down on the grass, not daring to look up. Suddenly a hand grabbed the back of her jacket and she was being pulled forward, her feet trying to gain purchase to propel her into the darkness.

  Within the forest, with others, she ran past a row of people who were still firing at the undead that were streaming across the field she had just crossed. With her group now reduced to half its number she continued along the path, which began to decline, the trees thinning until they fell away completely at the cliff edge and her breath was taken. Not by a bullet or a snapping jaw, but from the spectacle across the shoreline and crashing waves. Thousands of people were crammed onto the few hundred yards of rocks and sand, some running into the water, attempting to swim against the waves, others, to her right, engaged in a battle with another assortment of foreign troops.

  “This way!” shouted Ada, leading whom was left, down the cliff side path towards the first of the large cave entrances.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  LAUREN

  Lauren stood against one of the bare rock faces deep inside the complex of caves, trying to make sense of what was happening within the chaos that was surrounding her. She hadn’t seen Swanson since he drove them and his wife to the relative safety of the underground refuge.

  Amaya was crying, but despite the effort her sounds were not travelling far, instead being absorbed by the din from the hundreds of people, packed into the confined space.

  “Excuse me,” said Lauren to someone who appeared to have some form of authority, but he completely ignored her, disappearing down one of the tunnels.

  She shook her head. “I can’t just stand here. I need to know what’s happening.” She looked at Mathew, Clara, Ember and Martin. “Wait here, I’ll—”

  “I’ll go with you,” said Clara.

  “Okay. Everyone wait here. We’ll find out what’s happening.”

  The two set off, retracing their tracks to their resting place, as going in any other direction would surely have gotten them completely lost. She spotted the same man, watching him move inside a makeshift room of some sort, constructed from wood and steel sheets. Not bothering to knock she pushed open the door to the ten-by-ten foot space, full of computer equipment and five people. One of which Clara recognised.

  “Jenn?” said Clara.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12