Chronicles of the Infected (Book 1): Finding Her Page 14

  This must be the luckiest moment he ever had in his life.

  Yet there was something about this…

  It was too easy.

  And as the reasoning of the action of the infected occurred to him, his perception on what had happened faded from glee at his good luck to the cynical, realistic mind he had become so acquainted with.

  There was only one thing that could have attracted that horde of starving zombies that had been deprived of meat for so long, to sprint in the same definite direction.

  Living flesh.

  The girl. It must be her. She must have attracted the attention of one infected, then the rest of them followed…

  It meant she was alive.

  Though possibly not for long.

  Well, at least I know which way to go…

  Without another moment’s hesitation, he seized his opportunity. He leapt upon the wiry fence, dragging his body upwards and perching upon the top. He pushed his body out in an almighty leap and landed succinctly atop the stone wall that had separated him from the hungry corpses’ dryly salivating mouths.

  He looked back with a fleeting glance at the concerned faces of Donny and Sadie.

  They must be thinking the same thing. They must have a good guess why all the undead ran in the same direction.

  He lowered himself down, hanging from the top brick, then let go, being sure to bend his knees to steady his impact, and wincing at the inevitable pain in his calf.

  He covered his mouth as dust travelled along the wind. He couldn’t let himself cough. He had to be silent. If such a faint, faraway sound as a little girl could attract them so eagerly, the patter of his footsteps or a gentle cough could be just as deadly.

  But he was in.

  After all the travelling, debating, worrying – he was in.

  He retracted the blade from his ankle, gripping it affirmatively. He stayed low as he bolted across the car park to the nearest building, constantly rotating his head, purposefully searching, frequently peering in every direction. Listening to every sound, noticing any change in the wind, and any increase in the potent smell of rotting meat that hung in the air of London.

  Pressing himself against the wall of the building, he concluded that he needed to get somewhere high, somewhere he could get a vantage point. The zombies had dictated his direction, but he could easily end up running into the tail end of them, and that would do no good to Laney’s chances, or his own mortality.

  Sticking against the wall he edged to his right, coming to the corner of the building. As he peered around the corner, he looked upon the grand sign planted upon it. Letters were missing from the business name, but from the look of a foyer and film posters that still hung loosely, he deduced that it was once a cinema. The windows were smashed, and the inside of the building looked black and charred. Faded grey still wandered from the building, evidence of smoke that had dissipated long ago but still clung to the furniture of the building like a possessive ghost.

  This was good enough.

  He rushed to an empty window frame and stepped over it, carefully avoiding the jagged edges of the glass that still remained in the corners.

  Inside the foyer, a zombie lay on the floor. Its arms reached for Gus, but its legs were missing, and its insides hung out of its bottom half.

  Gus plunged his knife into its head. He used as much strength as he could, but found that the zombie’s skull had turned to delicate crust, and didn’t take much coercing.

  He ran toward the staircase, taking them two at a time, until he finally reached the roof. He opened the door just as cautiously, surveying every edge and every corner until he concluded it was safe.

  As soon as he looked into the distance, he could see where the zombies had taken aim for.

  A school.

  They surrounded the entire circumference of the building. Even from this distance, he could hear their moans of hunger, their desperation for human flesh. So many of them, scrambling for food.

  That was where he needed to go.

  I’m coming for you, Laney.

  39

  Bill’s greasy face had never looked so greasy. Every vile aspect of his features had been accentuated, culminating in his yellow pupils intensifying his glare through the thin pane of glass.

  Kristine’s hand gripped Laney’s shoulder. Not that she needed to – Laney was rooted to the spot, barely moving, her eyes fixed on the face of the man who had consistently tormented both of them for the last few months.

  Kristine needed to act. She needed to act, or neither of them were going to survive at all.

  The radio. That was what they had gone there for, and they needed to use it.

  Kristine knelt before Laney. As she placed her hands on her arms, she noticed a damp patch on the inside of her trousers.

  “Laney, listen to me,” Kristine began. “We need–”

  Before Kristine could finish her sentence, there was a loud smash that made her instinctively twist toward the door.

  The square of glass had smashed through, and Bill’s arm now hung through it, reaching and grabbing at the empty air.

  The door pounded against its hinges, buckling under the pressure of a corridor of bodies.

  As Kristine stared, the unequivocal truth dawned on her like a splash of frozen water in the face.

  The door’s going to break down.

  She rushed toward it, pushing her arms against the resistance. She had no idea what she was doing. She in no way had the strength to hold it, but she had to act. She had to.

  It was the only way to save Laney.

  A large filing cabinet was propped against the adjacent wall. After rushing to its opposite side, she pushed against it with all her might. Her feet skidded against the floor, battling against the weight of loads of heavy paper, but it shifted slightly from her pressure.

  A crack spread through the door beneath Bill’s reaching arm.

  Kristine pushed and pushed, making a little progress, but little was better than none.

  Her eyes passed Laney’s. They were still there. Staring. Innocent. Terrified.

  “Laney, I need you to do something very important for me, can you do that?”

  Laney didn’t react. She just stared.

  Kristine hoped that there was still something beneath that expression of terror, that her catatonic state was not permanent.

  “There is a radio on the other side of the room, can you see it? Can you look for me?”

  Laney’s eyes blinked. She slowly turned to look over her shoulder.

  “That’s it, keep looking, it’s right over there. Do you see it, Laney? Do you?”

  Laney gently nodded.

  “Good. You’re such a good girl, so clever.”

  Kristine pushed against the filing cabinet. Almost there.

  “I need you to go switch it on for me. By the plug, then that black button next to it. Can you do that for me? Can you?”

  Laney stared at the radio, her legs glued in place.

  “Laney, I need you to go to the radio. I need you to do that now, please.”

  Laney ran forward, wobbling a little and losing her balance. She pushed herself up – she was always so resilient, such a strong little girl – and she propelled herself at the radio.

  Kristine turned her attention back to the filing cabinet. She reached the door, but the cabinet wouldn’t go against it. Bill’s arm was still there, blocking the cabinet from pressing firmly, stopping her from being able to put up another line of defence.

  “Go away!” she cried. “Go away, you horrible, lousy man!”

  She took a few steps back, prepared a run-up, then charged herself forward, picking up speed, and jumped hard against the filing cabinet. Her whole shoulder seized in pain, but the cabinet was now against the door. On the floor beside it she could see Bill’s decapitated arm, blood spilling like a spilt glass of milk.

  She leant against the wall, closing her eyes, breathing, breathing so fast she almost lost the ability. She wille
d her panting to subside, to calm, but she could just not stop hyperventilating.

  “I did it,” came the lonely, innocent voice of a young girl.

  Kristine turned to Laney, holding a radio to the side. From the speakers beside her came static.

  Kristine’s heart beat faster. She smiled. It was working. It was actually working.

  “Speak into it for me. See what they say.”

  “Hello,” Laney tried. “Hello, is anyone there?”

  Kristine smiled widely, so happy, so proud of her.

  Within seconds the cabinet collapsed, and five thick fingers had wrapped themselves around Kristine’s throat.

  There were screams. Kristine couldn’t tell whether they came from her or Laney, but they echoed in her mind, reverberating around the emptiness of her consciousness.

  She stared into the eyes of Laney as she felt a set of teeth sink into her cheek bone.

  40

  A blackened plastic bag scurried past Gus’s foot, carrying along the wind to join the other strays. The sun was hovering low in the sky, and a dark-orange sunset was close. The beauty of nature above was in stark contrast to the dusty crunch of the earth beneath his feet.

  Staying low. Staying hidden. Staying quiet.

  Those were the three things Gus kept reminding himself.

  The closer he got, the more likely he would be to attract the attention of the horde. A single cough or step on a twig could cost him not only his life, but the freedom to be free from an agonising death. The school was close, which meant that so were they.

  As he darted across another car park, he thought he saw a flicker of movement in the distance. He rushed behind an abandoned police car, taking cover.

  He listened.

  A rustle from the distance indicated the heavy steps of something walking. A few more rustles told Gus that there were a few of them. As he listened – really listened – he could hear the rest of them. The horde of thousands, groaning and yapping.

  He slithered onto the passenger seat of the police car. Lifting his head up slowly, spotting the figures illuminated by the horizon, he brought the passenger door slowly to a close and shut it.

  A sudden burst of static from the police radio made his body rigid with tension. He ducked down, ducking out of sight, and turned the volume downwards.

  He waited.

  For a sound. A smell. Something that showed that his location had been blown.

  Nothing.

  He lifted the radio to his mouth and spoke clearly. “Hello, is anybody there?”

  Nothing.

  “Hello, is anybody out there?”

  Static.

  “Can you hear me? Can you–”

  Then he thought of something.

  The chip. The one Donny was showing off about. Gus had snatched it off Donny in irritation. And he had put it…

  He reached into his inside pocket and pulled it out.

  “Donny, you beauty!” he declared, then felt glad Donny hadn’t been around to hear it.

  He opened the back of the radio, placed the chip in, then turned it back around.

  Sure enough, it went through every possible frequency. Every lapse in static, every faint whisper, until it landed on one station.

  He could hear something.

  Something faint. A voice. A girl’s voice.

  He slowly twisted the volume knob to the side, bringing the volume gently up so that he could only just hear it.

  “Hello?”

  He twisted the volume up again, only enough so that the voice became clear.

  “Hello, is anyone there?”

  The voice was shaking, a constant tremble under its fevered desperation. A young girl. Terrified. Despairing.

  It must be her. It must be.

  The gentle buzz of static abruptly pounded through the speakers as it mixed with a violent scream. Gus’s hand clamped around the volume control, turning it right back down again.

  The screaming didn’t stop.

  She didn’t stop.

  Gus picked up his side of the radio and pressed it against his mouth.

  “I’m receiving you, are you still there?”

  More screaming.

  Just more manic, ear-piercing screaming.

  “I’m receiving, come in?”

  He flinched. It was so high-pitched that it went through his entire body.

  “Laney?”

  The scream ceased.

  “Laney, is that you?”

  Static.

  In the background there were groans, distant shouts, someone suffering incredulous pain.

  “Laney, please answer me.”

  “How do you know my name?” came a timid, inquisitive voice.

  “Laney, listen to me, I’ve been sent to save you.”

  Nothing. Just distant chaos.

  “Laney, can you hear me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Laney, I’m here to help, just – just tell me what is happening.”

  “My teacher – she…”

  “She what, Laney? What happened?”

  “He’s hurting her. He’s… eating…”

  Gus wiped a bead of sweat from his bow.

  As he did, an idea came to mind.

  It wasn’t a great one – but it was an idea. And it would have to do.

  “Laney, I’m here to save you, okay. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you believe me?”

  “What?”

  “That I’m here to save you, do you believe me?”

  “Yes. They are–”

  Another scream.

  “Laney, I need you to listen to me, I need you to not scream. It will only attract more of them. I know it’s tough, but you just need to not scream.”

  “… Okay.”

  “Good. Well done. You’re being so strong. Now, is there a window in the room you’re in? A window you can safely get to?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now get to that window and tell me what you see.”

  A moment of silence.

  The sun began sinking into the distance, and a grey darkness grew stronger.

  “There are lots of them, there are – there are so many of them! They are all looking at me!”

  “Laney, can you see the entrance to the school? I mean, if you look, can you see it?”

  “They are at the entrance.”

  “Is the entrance to your left, or your right?”

  “It’s… My left.”

  “And how many windows are there between you and it?”

  “Er… Three, I think.”

  Gus made a decision.

  Possibly a bad one, but the only one he had.

  “Well done, Laney, you’re being so strong, you’re being such a good girl. Now listen to me very carefully. I’m going to tell you what I need you to do. Are you listening, Laney?”

  “Yes.”

  The manoeuvre. The handbrake turn. The twisting of the car he had failed to get correct twice in the past two days.

  It was the only way.

  The only chance he had.

  “When I tell you, and only when I tell you, I need you to do this for me. And I need you to trust me.”

  I can do this. I have to do this.

  “Okay.”

  God, I hope I can do this.

  “Laney, I need you to jump out of the window.”

  41

  “What?” yelped Laney, her eyes glued to her teacher slumped on the floor, her eyes wide and empty.

  The crack in the door had grown bigger, and arms were now reaching through it.

  Mrs Andrews’s hand twitched.

  How was it twitching?

  Half of the skin on her face was gone, leaving a bloody mess. Her throat was an open, gaping wound. Yet her fingers were still twitching.

  Maybe she was alive? Maybe she was okay?

  “Did you hear me, Laney?”

  “I – I –”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but you need to
take a leap of faith, and you need to trust me. Can you do that?”

  She turned back to the window, looking down at the faces looking back up at her. They were all so pale. And skin was missing, just like Mrs Andrews. And their eyes, they were empty. So empty. They all looked angry, all like they wanted to hurt her, she couldn’t jump into them, she couldn’t.

  “I can’t jump!”

  “I know, Laney, I know how it sounds. But I’m going to save you. This is how I’m going to save you.”

  “No.”

  It was so far down. And there were so many of them. Their hands reaching up for her, clutching like the way Bill’s hands used to clutch at Mrs Andrews. Did they want to hurt her like Bill had hurt Mrs Andrews?

  And there were so many… So many of them… So many, she couldn’t see the end.

  A groan. It came from inside the room. From behind her.

  Mrs Andrew’s whole hand was twitching. Both of them. And her arms. Except, they weren’t moving like they should. It was a disjointed twitch, like her bones weren’t connected. There was something wrong with it. Laney couldn’t figure out what it was, but there was something wrong.

  “Laney, the only way to save you is for you to jump. Get ready, I’m almost there.”

  Mrs Andrews’s legs suddenly shifted position. And again. And again. Each time twisting a different way.

  “Okay,” Laney agreed. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  Sirens in the distance. Somewhere behind the hum of all those hungry groans, was a police siren.

  Was this man a policeman? Maybe that’s why he was trying to help her.

  Mrs Andrews’s eyes shot open.

  “My teacher is awake!”

  “Laney, has she been bitten? Tell me if she’s been bitten?”

  “She… She’s been hurt.”

  “Okay, Laney, just stay by the window, stay calm, I am almost there.”

  The sirens grew louder. The roar of an engine screeched closer. A mass of thuds, like lots of solid objects hitting other solid objects with full force. It was getting louder than the groans.

  Mrs Andrews pushed herself to her feet. Her eyes stayed on Laney the whole time, a low murmur like a croaky cough vibrating from her throat.