Hellspawn (Book 1) (6 page)

Kurt groaned, vivid flashbacks to the cemetery gates playing on the screen of his mind. “Is your husband there?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“No, Albert died several years ago of cancer. I live alone now,” she replied, a look of sorrow passing over her face at the mention of her late husband.

“How about your children?”

“I’m afraid we weren’t blessed with children. It is probably why I started teaching,” she answered with a wistful smile on her lips.

“Ok, would you like to come with us? You can’t stay here, it’s dangerous.” Kurt couldn’t think of another way to keep her safe. His debt to the brave woman was impossible to repay, Sam had told him of her classroom heroics.

“Yes, I think that you are right,” she said looking down at her hammer work. “I would be delighted to, as long as it is not an inconvenience.”

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief, led her round to the passenger door and helped her in. Introductions were swift.

“Sarah, you follow me. If anything tries to stop us the van will be stronger than the car. Stay close!” Looking at the boys in the back, “You did good, real good lads. Braiden, Sarah will drop you at your house on the way through the estate.”

“Ok, thanks,” he responded, still refusing to meet their gaze.

“I love you both so much, remember stay close.”

Kurt hurried to his van, climbed in and started the engine. Backing up, he turned and passed around the car with his family inside, looks passing between them before they were gone, appearing now in his side mirror. Sarah followed instantly. At the exit, stopping briefly to check for traffic or other… blockages, he couldn’t help but look in the rear view mirror. The school building was ominous now, a place of the dead, where once it had bustled with youthful vigour. He shook his head to clear it, and then made a lightening quick decision to take the fastest route, passing the church. Time was of the essence and things were going bad at an alarming rate. They pulled onto the main road in convoy, ready to make the journey home.

Kurt found that his senses were sharp, as if the whole situation had triggered a deep, long forgotten instinct within him. Was this how cavemen felt, danger present every second of every day, one wrong decision meaning death? He smiled to himself, the image of him with a large wooden club on his shoulder, and his wife and son carefully tending their cave home like something out of the Flintstones. He looked in his mirror, glad to see they were right behind him.

The previous catatonic episode was almost entirely forgotten now, except for the heat on his cheek.  He put his hand to the spot and still felt soreness. Smiling again at the thought of his wonderful wife hitting him to bring him round, he resolved to never let his fear beat him again. It had very nearly cost the lives of those he loved, had it not been for the quick action of Sarah… he let the thought trail off, smile gone and angry with himself. Stupid! Stupid!

The landscape passed. Tree branches swaying in the wind, the rainfall stuck to the leaves cascading in heavy spatters onto the windscreen. He passed a lot of the students who had fled the school, walking in small groups or on their own. The temptation to stop was nearly overwhelming, conflicting emotions were racing through his mind. Love won the day, love for his family and the need to protect them. He hardened, met his eyes in the mirror, “You can’t save everyone, you are not superman,” he said to his reflection, which gave away nothing. It had an excellent poker face.

The vehicles approached the Warblington train crossing that many students used to get to school from the surrounding areas. The amber warning lights started flashing, an indication that a train had triggered a sensor on the line and was approaching fast. Kurt had no intention of stopping at the barriers and wasting precious minutes, instead he accelerated. Looking in the mirror, he was reassured to see Sarah had matched his speed, understanding without needing to communicate. The descending arms of the gates had not begun to lower yet, amber was a warning and gave a brief window for pedestrians to get clear, it could only be a second or two before they did. They were thirty metres away and Kurt noticed the activity on the approach ramp. Several people, some students, some adults, who had been attempting to catch the train for whatever reason, had begun to stream out on to the path and road, fleeing. It didn’t take a genius to work out what they raced away from. The gates began to lower, the amber light now changing to the flashing red of danger. You’re telling me, Kurt thought to himself humourlessly.

One elderly woman clutched at her face, blood visible through the fingers. The people in the road left very little room to get through. He would hit someone if they didn’t move. He slowed down, the barriers lowering inch by inch, horn blaring. They didn’t seem to pay any attention to the noise, putting distance between themselves and whatever was occurring on the platforms was their only concern.

Kurt was only vaguely aware that he had begun to accelerate again.  The barriers were lower than the top of his van now, an impact was inevitable. He braced himself and almost in slow motion, he reached the barrier. A man was mid-flight across the road, their eyes met and Kurt knew he was going to run him over. Momentum, and no small amount of luck, carried the man past the front wing of the van, but not quite enough. His trailing foot was caught, which caused him to spin and hit the ground. Kurt was at the barriers and hit them with the cab, just above the windscreen. Feeling the collision vibrate through the body of the van, it was accompanied by a terrific rending of metal on metal. The prop on the barrier split, causing the barrier arm to fall back into the upright position with the counterweight. Kurt was unfortunate enough to see a struggling group of people fall onto the tracks from the nearest platform, an outstretched arm hitting the electrified rail causing a blinding flash. Aghast, he found himself thinking how the electrocution was a mercy compared to what would have happened. A split second later, he hit the barrier on the other side of the track, bursting through. The barrier split on the long arm and went clattering against a garden wall. Looking back, Sarah had not slowed and was clear of the railway line. He caught a glimpse of the man he had hit and was heartened to see him stand up, before he fled once more.

Realising that he had been holding his breath, it exploded from his lungs. Inhaling deeply, Kurt tried to steady the shaking in his body. The sheer amount of adrenaline that had been fuelling him for the past hour now left him drained. Their vehicles passed cars that were going far too fast for the conditions. Rounding one corner they saw the wreckage of a Ford that had ploughed straight through the hedge of the property, coming to rest against the brick porch. The bonnet was crumpled, steam issuing in a vast cloud from the split engine. Several people had surrounded the vehicle, but they were not helping the injured occupants…

More of the undead were milling around as they proceeded on the trek home. Any in the road, Kurt veered around, with Sarah expertly following his line. Some of the bodies had been hit and crushed by other cars.  One was crawling and reached out towards the van, disappearing beneath the wheels as Kurt ran it over with a yell of pure hatred. It felt good to strike back, even in such small a way. Approaching the church, he was amazed to see the graveyard empty. No-one was in or around the grounds, living or dead. The heavy church doors were firmly closed, when normally they would be open and welcoming, promising salvation and forgiveness. It passed in a blur and was forgotten.

They turned onto Horndean road, a long, straight stretch that led to the turn for their estate. Kurt was glad to see nothing out of the ordinary so he took the opportunity to relax a little. Coasting along, his family safe behind him, he began to plan. He couldn’t help but wonder at the complete lack of emergency service response. He hadn’t seen a single police car, ambulance, or fire engine since the whole world went insane. As if he had summoned it, a flash of blue lights in his mirror caught his attention. The police car overtook them at over seventy miles an hour, leaving them in its wake. It continued on towards a rise that led to Rowlands village and was gone. His mind returned to the plan, what to do when they get home? They had food and they had water, at least for now. All of the doors on the house, both front and back, as well as the patio doors, were glazed. They wouldn’t keep them safe.  A few good hits and the glass would shatter, opening the house to anything that wanted entry.
Think damn it, think!

He reached the right turn for Spencer’s Estate. Swinging into it, he was more cautious. There were many places that gave shelter from view, bushes, alleyways, and parked cars on either side of the road. He approached the row of houses that Braiden lived in and came to a stop. Climbing out, he walked towards the car as Braiden opened his door, watchful for movement.

“Thanks,” Braiden muttered, still not looking at Kurt or Sarah, who had opened her window and was leaning out to watch him go. She was still angry with him, Kurt could tell, her look told him as much. Braiden started to run down the pathway that separated the blocks of terraced houses, with his being the third house. The grass was overgrown, an old sofa sat rotting in the garden and litter and general waste was strewn everywhere. The curtains were drawn, covered in filth and stains from a lack of cleaning.

“Be safe.  Keep your doors locked tight,” Kurt called, receiving no response from Braiden. He sighed, looked at Sarah, and said nothing.

She shut her window as he climbed back into the van. They carried on to the top of the housing estate, turning into the small cul-de-sac that held their home. They pulled up at the front, Kurt swinging the van around, facing the rear doors of his vehicle at the front door of their home. He backed up, mounted the kerb and crossed his grass, coming to a stop two metres from the door. Their home was two floors plus the attic. The lounge, dining room, kitchen, utility room and small storeroom were on the ground floor, with four bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs.

Sarah, Sam, and Mrs. Blume vacated the car and made their way to him.  He had already opened the front door, ready for them to take the contents of the van inside. Looking up and down the row of houses, Kurt saw an absence of his neighbours’ cars, a bad sign.

“Sam, quickly go and knock the doors of Matt and Jill, Chris and the others. Warn them, and if you see anything, yell a warning and head straight back!” His son moved off without hesitation. “Be careful,” Kurt called out, hating the idea of Sam being out of sight.

“Will do Dad,” Sam shouted back without turning.

Opening the doors on the van, Kurt started to move everything into the house. “Grab what you can, bring it straight upstairs,” he called as he lifted several bags of food. Stepping over the threshold, he was in the hallway with magnolia coloured walls, pine laminate floors, and white artex ceiling. The familiar surroundings were a balm to Kurt’s frayed nerves. He hurried down the hallway and climbed the staircase, the bags of food rubbing the walls with a rustle.

“You had time to go shopping?” Sarah yelled from the front door. “I hope you picked up some washing powder or we will never get this blood out.”

He laughed at that, put the bags down in the front bedroom and looked through the windows. He could see Sam at the end house. A family had just moved in, they hadn’t yet had time to introduce themselves. A quick wave in passing had been their only contact so far. Sam was unsuccessful, a look of disappointment on his face as he backed away, before turning and going to the next house. Kurt’s heart ached.
He thought of
how much he loved this kid. He was such a good boy, never causing his parents any trouble, always polite and hard working
.
Kurt startled as Sarah came into the room and broke his train of thought.

“Why on earth are we putting the food in here? It’s a bedroom, normally used for sleeping.”

He looked at her and made his way back to the stairs, stepping aside for the old teacher who was nearing the top.

“I know that, silly arse,” he replied, smiling. “But we are not staying downstairs.”

She gave him a confused look, shook her head, and shrugged. “Ok,” she said, directing Mrs Blume into the bedroom.

They carried on, taking everything out from the work van. Tools, pipe, fittings and timber filled the front bedroom. Meanwhile, Sam had returned from his errand.

“No-one is in. I tried them all.  They will get back later, I expect.” He looked ashen, knowing deep down that it was unlikely he would ever see them again.

“Thanks for trying mate, now help us to get this stuff in. Take it into your room.” Kurt nodded at the van and gave his son’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. Five minutes later, the van stood empty. Closing the doors, Kurt explained what he planned to do.

“Close and lock the door when you go in. I am going to move the van round the back and use it to block the patio door. The car will block the front door. Where are the keys honey?” He reached his hand out to Sarah, who was stood in the doorway with Mrs Blume and Sam behind her.

“I’ll do the car, it will be quicker.” She stepped down, taking the keys out from her jean pocket. “What did you have in mind?”

Knowing it was pointless to argue and aware that they needed to work as a team, Kurt answered, “Back straight into the door, the car will hit the brickwork and stop anything getting past. Do it carefully, but don’t stop until you feel contact. Then lock up and come round the back to me, we will leave the back door free and I will block it up from inside when we are safe,” he detailed the plan.