Infection Z (Book 5) (12 page)

H
ayden stood
his ground and stared at Gary’s raised rifle.

The clouds were thickening outside the walls. The tunnel was growing even darker. It seemed like the walls of the tunnel were closing in on him as he stood there, Miriam, Amy and Kayla by his side, Mark and Rajiv’s dead bodies by his feet.

He wished they would close in.

Especially with the groans echoing closer from behind.

“How does it feel, Hayden?” Gary asked. “How’s it feel not being the fucking hero saving everyone once and for all? How’s it feel being a fucking killer, hmm?”

Hayden didn’t respond to him. He knew this went deeper than him leaving Gary for dead. Gary really just enjoyed the power. He’d always had a chip on his shoulder about Hayden, his immunisation role. Seemed to relish that primal way of life—that survivalist way of life. That was the problem with this world. As nasty and brutal as it was, and in spite of some of the horrible things everyone had to see, had to go through, this world was the right world for some people. Some people didn’t want to go back to order, to routine, to being governed and paying bills and being fucking upstanding members of communities.

Some people just wanted to survive.

To enjoy power.

Gary fit right into this world. And he was finally flexing his muscles.

“We’re going to have to move, Hayden,” Miriam whispered.

He knew Miriam was right. They couldn’t just stand here forever, as the smell of death grew ever nearer. He knew they needed to get away from Gary, because if he didn’t, everyone he cared about would die, right here. Gary wasn’t immunised. Neither were the people beside him. It was obvious what was happening here.

Hayden knew he could try bargaining for Miriam’s life; for Amy’s life.

But somehow, he figured Gary might just relax his stance where two people Hayden cared about were concerned.

That said, if he made a break for it, he knew they’d shoot him down. They’d die. All of them.

And if they didn’t make a break for it, the infected would surround them. Tear the three of them apart.

He couldn’t let that happen either.

But he had to make a choice.

He looked back. Saw the infected edging closer. They were just a matter of metres away now. The slow ones, still. Wherever the runners had got to—the immunised who had turned—Hayden was grateful that they weren’t on to him. He could just about cope with the walking ones. Just about.

Or at least he hoped he could.

Runners were a different ballgame altogether.

As he looked into that approaching mass, he wanted to just throw everything down and run into them. Run right towards his death. Throw all he had at getting through them, at getting back to New Britain, back to the other side. Deep down, he wanted to believe that New Britain was still salvageable. That people inside were still alive, and they were the good sort of people who could be saved.

But then he looked back at Gary’s people and he knew what the living thought now. Everyone who’d been immunised was dangerous. Everyone who’d been immunised was prey.

Everyone who’d been immunised was no different to the infected themselves.

Gary, his people, they wanted this place back. They wanted to start again, just like Hayden did.

But they were willing to butcher the living to do so.

That’s where the pair of them differed.

“Getting closer,” Gary said. “Any last words?”

Hayden held on to his rifle. He knew he could try shooting at them, but he wouldn’t last long. And he couldn’t put Miriam or Amy in that kind of danger. Instead, he lowered it. Put his gun over his shoulder, reached a hand out for Miriam, and one for Amy. He held on to them. Tight. He saw Miriam hold Kayla’s hand, and all of them stood there, waited.

The infected were just feet away now.

“This is actually kind of sweet,” Gary said. “Saves us ammo, anyway. Y’know, I always knew you weren’t a fighter when it came to it. Don’t have the balls in you, even when you’re surrounded. You just lay down in a corner and die. Ain’t no hero. Ain’t no hero, not one bit.”

“Hayden,” Miriam whispered. He could hear the fear in her voice and he wanted to take it all away.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered.

Miriam didn’t respond for a few seconds.

“Miriam, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes. But—”

“When I say fall, fall.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

They stood still for a few seconds. Gripped on tightly to one another’s hands. The infected were just inches away now. So close to clawing their way through their bodies. To wrapping their sharpened, chipped teeth around their skin, tearing their flesh away.

“Shame we couldn’t work this out like real men,” Gary said, in the most horrible macho way imaginable. “Shame it had to come to this. But when you leave people for dead—when you kill people—this is just what happens. In fact, I see what you were doing now. You had a point. You were just keeping this place safe when you shot Amanda and those others. Guess I’m lifting your mantle in that sense, hmm?”

“Gary?” Hayden shouted.

The infected’s fingertips pushed into Hayden’s back.

“This isn’t over.”

He squeezed Miriam and Amy’s hands.

Took a deep breath.

And then he fell back into the group of infected, pulling Miriam, Amy and Kayla down with him.

H
ayden fell back
into the crowd of infected and for a second, for just a split second, he wondered if he’d finally lost his mind.

He hit the ground. Slammed back into it, head cracking against the solid ground beneath. Miriam, Amy and Kayla fell, too, and Miriam and Amy held on to Hayden’s hands.

He saw the infected gathering around him. Saw them directly above him, saw them to his left, to his right, moving closer towards him, like water flowing through a pipe—inevitable, unavoidable. All he could hear were their snarls. All he could smell was the feces-esque decay of their skin. His head throbbed. He knew he didn’t have much time to make this work—if it was even going to work at all.

“Shoot them! And—and move back!”

Hayden let go of Miriam’s hand. He hoped she’d heard him. He didn’t have any more time to wait around, to be inactive.

He had to do this. He had to fight.

He fired at the infected closest to him as it pushed its way towards his neck.

Then he turned the gun on the next one, and the next, the sound of the rifle firing deafening when in such close, contained quarters.

All the time, he shuffled back. Shuffled through the crowd of infected that he was surrounded by. Shuffled through their fallen body parts, their icy blood. He knew Miriam and Amy were still by his side too, Miriam’s gun hurting his ear even more.

But they were doing this. They were getting through these infected.

They had to.

As he fired at more of the infected, shooting them down and dispatching them, Hayden felt New Britain getting closer again. And as much as he didn’t want to think of it as home, he couldn’t help but do so. He was so close. So close to being back. So close to…

No. New Britain wasn’t home. Not anymore.

It was just a place he had to get to in order to get Miriam, Amy and Kayla to safety.

He saw the number of infected thinning. He knew they had to stay down, though. They couldn’t start running. They had to stay low, or Gary would know something was wrong, and he’d be right onto them.

But they were close.

They were doing this.

They were—

He heard a shriek. A shriek over to his left.

When he turned, he saw blood spurting out of Kayla’s right shoulder.

Hayden’s stomach sank. The fear and frustration settled inside once again. She was a good person. A good person who’d showed her trust, who’d gone along with his plan.

And now she’d been bitten—

Again.

Another infected sticking its fingers into her belly.

Ripping open her torso.

And more of them, all gathering around her, all feasting on the bloodbath.

Hayden saw Amy’s terrified eyes. He saw the look of horror widening in them.

“Come on,” he said. “We—we’re almost there.”

He fired at the infected surrounding Kayla. And when they’d fallen, when there were no others in their immediate vicinity, he pointed the gun at the side of Kayla’s head. Pressed it right up to the side of her skull.

“Sorry,” Hayden said.

He pulled the trigger.

No bullets came out.

“Fuck—”

He was interrupted by the crack of gunfire from the entrance to New Britain. He knew they must be onto him now.

“Quick,” Hayden said. He grabbed Miriam’s hand, who had hold of Amy’s now.

“But Kayla—”

“There’s no time,” Hayden said.

And it hurt, saying that. It hurt accepting that a member of their group wasn’t just going to die—she was going to turn.

But they really didn’t have any more time.

He rolled onto his stomach. Held on to Miriam’s hand, to Amy’s hand.

And amidst the crackle of gunfire from Gary’s people, the three of them shuffled back towards New Britain.

The final push back towards New Britain felt like it was lasting forever with the gunshots firing over their backs, with the constant awareness that an infected could be nipping at their heels, just waiting to take a bite.

But they pushed on. The three of them pushed on because they knew it was what they had to do. It was the only thing they could do. To keep themselves alive. To protect the people they cared about most: each other.

They reached the safe confines of New Britain and hid around the side of the wall.

Hayden pressed his head right back against the wall. His heart pounded. He heard Miriam panting, Amy breathing heavily.

“We can’t stay here much longer,” Hayden said. “They’re coming. We’ve… we’ve got to make a move.”

“But where to?” Miriam asked. “We can’t stay here. We’ve had this conv—”

“I know that now,” Hayden said.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel the dried blood from the infected setting between the cracks. He wanted nothing more than a shower to just wash it all away. To put it to the back of his mind and forget it. To move on.

“You’re right,” he said, as the footsteps of Gary and his people echoed closer through the tunnel. “You’ve always been right. I see that now. We can’t stay here. It… As much as I want it to be safe, it isn’t safe. So we need to get out of here. While we can.”

He stood. Started walking towards the main street, which was laced with blood and body parts.

“And how do you suppose we waltz out of here?” Miriam asked. “They’re coming for us. The infected are coming for us. How do we get out now? We’re too late.”

“For this gate, maybe,” Hayden said. “But the new tunnel. Maybe now.”

Miriam shook her head. “It’s in construction.”

“It’ll have to do.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“We don’t have another choice.”

Silence fell between them. Just for a few seconds. But Hayden sensed what was happening once more. He sensed that Miriam understood where he was coming from. That they only had one choice here. One final throw of the dice.

“We can do this. The three of us. We don’t have to lose.”

He held out a hand.

Miriam took a few seconds. And then she stood up. Grabbed on to it. Amy’s hand was in hers.

They waited there a few seconds. Waited there, the three of them, all standing around in the dying late afternoon sun, fully aware of their next step, fully aware of what they had to do.

“Let’s go,” Hayden said.

He turned around. Started to run.

The pair of them didn’t get far before bumping into someone.

Or some things.

Six of them. Infected.

All of them standing right in the middle of the alleyway they were heading down.

Staring.

Then, sprinting towards them.

H
ayden stared
into the eyes of the oncoming infected and he gripped his empty gun tightly.

He watched them power down the alleyway. Watched them sprint towards him, towards Miriam, towards Amy. And a part of him wanted to run away. A part of him wanted to flee. Because these infected were fucking terrifying. Not only that, but they were in his home. They were inside the one place he used to be able to call safe, and they were coming for not just him, but for Miriam and Amy.

But as much as he knew he probably should run, as much as he knew Miriam wanted him to run by the way she was pulling at his arm, he knew something else even more.

There was no running from these things.

Just like there was no running from the reality of the situation. From the monsters, both outside and in.

There was only standing up to them. Facing them, head on.

“Hayden we’ve got to—”

Hayden didn’t hear the rest of what Miriam had to say.

He flipped his gun around. Gripped onto the end of it and lifted it like it was a bat.

He walked towards the infected.

“Hayden!”

He heard gunshots. Heard them fizzling past him, splattering from Miriam’s pistol into the bodies of the infected. But not all of the bullets hit. And that’s where he came in.

He smacked the first infected to the ground, cracking its neck on impact.

And then he pulled back his gun. Slammed it right against the side of the infected’s neck, finishing off the job.

When he looked up, he saw two more infected moving towards him.

He swung his gun again. This time, he felt the crack as the gun split the side of the infected’s skull.

And then he cracked it right into the middle of the next infected’s skull, beating it down to the ground, crouching over it, holding it down.

He pressed the rifle across its neck. Looked into the infected’s eyes as he pushed down with all his weight, further and further. He thought he saw something in its eyes. Something like recognition. Like understanding. Like a realisation of what was actually happening, even though that wasn’t possible because these things were dead.

But still, he felt the delight filling his veins as he slowly choked the infected.

As he pressed the rifle right down against its neck, harder, harder, harder…

He kept on pressing down and he felt the man he used to be returning. Not the man—or the boy—he was before the outbreak. But that man he’d turned into before he reached New Britain.

He felt his ruthlessness returning. And something about it felt empowering. Like it was the exact thing he’d been missing all along.

He felt himself again.

The infected’s neck cracked.

The writhing body went still.

Hayden felt life in undeath.

He stood up. Checked on Miriam and Amy. They were both fine. The runners that’d headed their way were all down now.

“We need to keep—”

He didn’t finish because something threw itself at Miriam.

Pressed her down.

Hayden didn’t even think.

He rushed over to Miriam. Dragged the infected from her.

He straddled over it. Lifted his gun. And then he brought it crashing down right onto its head, again and again and again.

He felt the anger filling his body. The anger at all the people he’d lost. Mum. Dad. Clarice. Everyone he’d watched die. And he used that anger to make himself hit the infected even harder. To keep on hitting it even when he felt the shell of a skull split. To keep on hitting it even when he’d broken right through, then moved on to the neck, reached inside and twisted it with his own hands.

It was only when he felt Miriam’s hand on his right shoulder that he stopped. That the relief filled his body.

“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s down. Now come on. We need to go.”

Hayden sat there shaking. He looked down at the mess of mashed brains, of cracked bone, some of it sticking to his hands, to his clothes.

“Come on. It’s okay.”

He stood up. Took Miriam’s hand.

But as he looked back at the scene of their destruction, he wanted to tell Miriam that he
was
okay.

He really was okay.

He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t frightened. Not anymore.

He was himself again.

And fuck anyone who stood in his way.

He headed towards the under-construction tunnel, using the last ounce of energy in his body.

“
R
eady to detonate
?” Phillip asked.

Gary turned. Nodded. He looked up at the wall and at the construction site beneath it, where the new tunnel was being worked on.

“Almost time,” he said.

He gripped onto the detonation device he’d found back in the armoury.

On a little screen to his right, he watched Hayden and his two bitches run through town, right in their direction.