The Bug: Complete Season One (13 page)

Daniel, it turned out, had been understating it. The ‘wee problem’ was closer to a full-scale disaster. Both lanes of the bridge were jammed with stationary traffic at least all the way to the central hump, making it completely impassable.

“Bollocks,” Hoon muttered.

“What do we do now?” asked Leanne.

“We could go back round. Try Great Western Road,” Marshall suggested.

Daniel shook his head. “No chance. It’s worse than this.”

“Worse? How can it be worse?” shrilled Abbie, pressing Immy against her chest.

“Trust me,” Daniel said, tightening his grip on the wheel. “It’s worse.”

The cars, trucks and buses blocking the road had all been abandoned. Most of them had lights on. A dozen or more had doors open.

“I wonder what happened,” said Marshall.

“Something sudden,” Hoon said. He pointed to a few cars in turn. “They rammed up the arse of the one in front, suggesting either the front ones slammed on the anchors, or the ones in the back weren’t paying attention.”

“Oh, aye. Aye, of course,” said Marshall. “I noticed that, too.”

“Like shite you did,” Hoon muttered. He puffed out his cheeks. “Well, we all know what needs to be said, so I’m going to be the one that says it. We need to walk.”

“What?” Abbie gasped. “No! We can’t! We don’t know what’s out there.”

“Worse. We
do
know what’s out there,” said Leanne. “And it’s fucking terrifying!”

“Watch your language, sweetheart,” Hoon said, and he shot Leanne such a disappointed look she actually felt a pang of guilt. “We need to walk across the bridge and find another car or van or whatever on the other side.”

Marshall chewed his lip. “Isn’t there another way?”

“I’ve got three different plans,” Hoon snapped. “But this is the only one that doesn’t involve swimming or jetpacks. Either we walk across the bridge, or we wait here for those bastards to find us again.”

Marshall glanced around at the others. “Maybe we should take a vote.”

“Knock yourself out,” said Hoon, patting him on the shoulder. “But I’m going.”

Hoon caught the handle of the side door and pulled. “Wait, I’m coming, too!” said Leanne, clambering over into the back.

“Aye. Fine, I’ll come,” said Marshall.

Daniel pushed the button to open his seatbelt. Abbie looked at him in horror. “Daniel, what are you doing? We can’t go out there.”

“Don’t see how we’ve got a lot of choice,” Daniel said. He shot her something he hoped was pretty close to a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine. We’ll all keep an eye on you both.”

Abbie pulled Immy closer. She rocked back and forth for a moment, then gave a single nod. “OK. OK, if that’s the plan.”

“Stick close to me,” Hoon told them.

“They’re scared of him,” Leanne said.

Daniel frowned. “What? Why are they scared of you?”

“Because I’m a big scary bastard,” said Hoon. He grinned, showing his yellowing teeth. “Everyone ready?”

Without waiting for an answer, he slid the door open. A chill wind hit them as they stepped out onto the road. It was surprisingly quiet even just this short distance out of the city, with only the steady humming of a few car engines breaking the silence.

Daniel tossed the keys to the van into the air a couple of times and caught them. “Oh well. Won’t be needing these again,” he said, then he took aim and tossed them over the side of the bridge.

“Unless we have to double-back,” Hoon said.

Daniel’s face fell. “Oh,” he said. “Yeah. Shit.”

Hoon marched off, shaking his head. “It’s like being stuck in the Apocalypse with the cast o’ the fucking Muppets.”

The gaps between the vehicles were narrow, so they set off in something close to single file with Hoon striding along up front and Marshall panicking at the back. Abbie and Immy were in the middle, Abbie’s eyes constantly flitting around, scanning for dangers both real and imagined.

Ten minutes of walking took them close to the bridge’s central hump. Once they’d realized all the cars were empty and there were no axe-wielding lunatics waiting to hack them to bits, they’d started to relax a little.

Now, though, as they got further from the safety of the van and closer to the unknown waiting for them on the bridge’s downwards slope, Marshall could feel his heart thudding faster and faster in his chest.

“We should have weapons,” he announced. “I mean, me and Leanne have got knives, but, you know… we should all have weapons.”

“No,” said Abbie. “Why? No, I don’t… We don’t need them.”

“Well not you, maybe. You’ve got your hands full,” Marshall admitted. “But everyone else. Daniel. Chief. Maybe you should--”

“Calm your tits, Marshall,” said Hoon. “There’s no bugger around. We’re fine.”

“But what if we’re not?” said Marshall. “What if people turn up? You know, like the ones at the station.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Hoon. He allowed himself a pleased smile and winked. “See what I did there? Bridge. Good, eh?”

They pressed on, but even Hoon was being more cautious as they approached the brow of the the slope. As they crested it, it became immediately obvious what had caused the traffic to screech to a halt.

A bus had right-angled across the road, turning several cars into a tangled mess of flaming metal in the process. The front of the coach had smashed through the railings at the side of the bridge, and was now jutting several meters over the River Clyde far below. It teetered ominously, the back wheels lifting up into the air then touching down again every few seconds.

“Aye, that’ll do it,” said Hoon.

There were dozens of other vehicles backed up on the other side of the bus, though far fewer than there were at this side. Marshall took comfort with the fact more people had been trying to get out of the city than get in. Fleeing north was clearly the sensible option.

The bus itself took up a big chunk of the width of the road. The rest of it was filled with burning wreckage, forming a barrier all the way across the bridge. “How do we get past?” Abbie whispered.

Hoon ignored her and crossed to where the front of the bus had punched through the railings. He leaned out and peered down into the water, just as the coach tipped downwards. The beam of the headlamps picked out dozens of shapes floating into the river below.

“Think we found where some of the folk in the cars went,” he said. Daniel leaned over to look, then let out a low groan as he saw the bodies bobbing up and down on the waves.

“Jesus. They jumped off?”

“Looks like it,” said Hoon. “Or were thrown.”

The coach
creaked
as it tilted back again. The back wheels bounced lightly on the pitted road surface, then the whole thing started to tip forwards again.

“Is anyone listening?” Abbie demanded. “How do we get past?”

“We duck and run,” said Leanne. She looked at Hoon. “Right?”

Hoon nodded. “Aye.” He gestured to the bus. “When the back wheels go up, we run like fuck.”

The bus thumped down again. Abbie shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”

“Relax. It’s a piece o’ piss. Marshall, show everyone how it’s done,” Hoon instructed.

Marshall blinked. “What? Why me?”

“Because I told you to, Martin,” Hoon said. “And, end of the world or no’, I’m still your boss.” He gestured towards the bus with a tilt of his head. “Now come on. Chop chop. We’ve no’ got all night.”

Marshall looked imploringly at the others, like they’d step in to overrule the DCI. Instead, Daniel stepped aside, clearing the path for Marshall to make his run.

“Fine. I’ll do it. It’s not a problem,” Marshall said.

“Attaboy,” said Hoon. He slapped Marshall on the back, hard enough to send him staggering a pace forward. “Try to avoid getting crushed if you possibly can.”

“Aye, cheers for that,” Marshall muttered. He rocked back on his heels, watching the back of the bus creaking up and down. His lips moved as he quietly counted out each swinging movement under his breath. Four seconds up, two back down. Six seconds. Doable. Definitely doable.

“Right, this time,” he said, his eyes tracking the bus’s back wheels. They touched down and bounced. Marshall launched himself forwards, then stopped and backed up. “No, next time,” he said.

“Oh, just get on with it,” Leanne said. She glanced up at the coach, which was still raising, then darted forwards. Ducking her head, she cleared the other side just as the bus swung back down again. “Through,” she announced.

Hoon jabbed a thumb in the direction of Leanne’s voice. “That’s how it’s done. Who’s next?”

The others shuffled uncertainly and exchanged worried glances. Hoon sighed. “Fine. I’ll go. Watch.”

He waited until the back wheels bounced again, then lowered his head and ran. He made it to the other side just as the bus reached the tipping point and began its downwards journey. “No bother,” Hoon shouted. “Now get your arses in gear.”

Daniel bounced up and down on the spot, warming up. “You OK?” he asked Abbie. “Want me to take her?”

Abbie quickly shook her head and cradled Immy closer. The baby gave a soft gurgle. “It’s fine. I’ve got her,” Abbie insisted.

“OK. See you on the other side, then,” Daniel said. He shot her a smile, then turned and sprinted under the rising coach. Hoon clapped him on the shoulder.

“Right, you two next,” said Hoon. The bus bounced down, then groaned back up again. Marshall saw the DCI’s face fall. “Oh… bollocks.”

Marshall turned, then felt his whole body stiffen. Dozens – hundreds, maybe – of people were running over the brow of the bridge just a short distance from the bus. The parked cars were slowing them down, but they scrambled over and squeezed between them, hurriedly closing the gap.

“We have to go. Now,” Marshall yelped. He caught Abbie’s wrist, waited for the bus to bump off the ground again, then he raced forwards. Abbie yanked back, pulling her arm free, and Marshall stumbled to a stop. “Come on!” he told her.

“Martin
move
!” Leanne screamed.

Marshall looked up in time to see the underside of the coach rushing towards him. He dived sideways, kicking and scrambling across the tarmac, and rolled to safety just in time.

When the coach started to raise again, the crowd was right behind Abbie. She had Immy wrapped protectively in her arms, rocking back and forth as the hisses and screaming of the onrushing crowd split the air.

Leanne sprang forwards, reaching for the knife in her belt. Hoon made a grab for her, but she dodged him and ducked under the down-swinging coach. “Come on, Abbie! Run!” she cried, grabbing her by the sleeve of her pajamas.

Sobbing, Abbie staggered after Leanne, closing her eyes and stumbling blindly under the coach.

“Run, run, run!” Daniel yelled.

Hoon lunged towards the bus, roaring at the oncoming horde, but too late. A pair of bloodied hands caught Abbie by the hair, snapping her head back. She screamed, her eyes wide and filled with horror and fear and everything in between.

“T-take her,” Abbie sobbed, thrusting Immy into Leanne’s arms. Hoon caught Leannel by her hood and pulled her out of the way just as the bus swung down. Abbie kept her eyes on her baby daughter as the shadow of the bus swallowed her up, and the world was crushed away into nothing.

Jaden and Col lay down their borrowed bicycles, and stood, guns in hand, looking up at Boston’s South Station. It was a grand, imposing place, all stone pillars and big windows. Granted, several of the windows had been broken, and there was a worrying amount of blood smeared across those that hadn’t been, but it was impressive all the same. Col dabbed a finger against one of the bloodied panes. It came away clean, meaning all the blood was on the inside.

“Looks like the shit hit the fan in there,” he said. Jaden’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

They had set off for the station on foot, then stumbled upon the bikes abandoned in the middle of a road. The streets were too clogged with traffic to drive to the station, but the bikes let them weave between the vehicles and quickly put distance between themselves and the handful of… whatever they were, they’d spotted along the way.

Col glanced up and down the street in both directions but saw no-one. If he was honest, that bothered him almost as much as everything else that was going on. OK, that was an exaggeration, he realized – he’d watched his boss murder an elderly security guard with his bare hands, then been caught in the blast radius of a plane crash, after all - but it bothered him a little, at least.

“I don’t get it,” he said. “Where is everyone?”

Jaden nodded towards the station’s front door. “Could be in there.”

Col tightened his grip on his gun. “God, I hope not.”

“Think Dunkin’ Donuts will be open?” Jaden asked. “I could do with a sugar rush. Cycling is
hard
.”

Col took a deep breath. “One way to find out,” he said. With a nod from Jaden, he pulled open one of the doors. They stood in silence, listening out for any sound from within, but hearing none.

Jaden stepped through into the station, gun raised. The cavernous entranceway was in half-darkness, with most of the lights either off or flickering erratically. Jaden swept the gun from shadow to shadow, pausing at each one for a fraction of a second.

“I think it’s OK,” he said, and Col stepped through behind him. The door clattered noisily, making them both jump. “Ssh!” Jaden whispered. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Sorry! Didn’t think.” Col glanced around at the station’s enormous foyer. “Where is she likely to be?”

Jaden shrugged. “Not sure. Her office, maybe? On the platforms? Your guess is as good as mine.”

“But you know what she does here, right?” said Col.

“Yes, I know what she does,” Jaden said. “But I somehow doubt she’s keeping to her regular schedule.”

They crept on, trying to avoid crunching the broken glass on the floor. “It’s quiet in here, too, isn’t it?” Col remarked. “I mean… it’s, like, one of the busiest places in the whole of Boston, but… nobody. Crazy or otherwise.”

“Let’s not count our zombie chickens quite yet,” Jaden muttered. “For all we know the entire population of Boston is hiding around the corner, getting ready to jump out, shout ‘surprise’, then eat our faces.”

Col felt a shiver travel the length of our spine. “If that happens,” he whispered. “Shoot me, OK?”

Jaden waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, totally. I’ve been looking for an excuse ever since I got the gun. Hell, if someone so much as licks you I’ll blow your brains out just to be on the safe side.”

“Thanks. That’s comforting,” Col said. “I’ll do the same for you.”

“Don’t you dare,” Jaden warned. “I’ve dreamed about being a zombie since I was nine years old. Do not mess this up for me, bitch. I swear.”

Col stopped walking. “Ssh. What was that?”

They listened. Col’s voice echoed around the station and died away into silence. “What?” Jaden whispered. “I don’t hear anything.”

Col frowned. “No. I thought… I was sure I heard something.”

“Hope it’s not another cat,” Jaden said, tip-toeing onwards across the carpet of glass.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Col sighed.

“Maybe. It’s still pretty fresh right now. You know, beloved family pet blown to pieces before your eyes,” Jaden said. “That’s more or less how Batman got started.”

“Except it was both his parents who got shot, not a cat.”

Jaden tutted. “That’s why I said it’s
more or less
how Batman got started.”

“Stop.”

The voice hissed through the air all around them. A whisper, but loud enough to echo around the entire station.

Jaden and Col spun around, guns flailing wildly at empty space. “Who said that?” Col gasped. “Jaden? Who said that?”

The voice came again. “Jaden. Jaden, baby. Oh, thank God!”

Jaden’s eyes scanned the walls and ceiling, before finally fixing on a trumpet-shaped speaker mounted high up on the criss-crossing roof support beams. “Mom?”

“OK, listen to me, Jaden. I can’t hear you, but I can see you. Do
not
go down to the platforms. Do you hear me? Nod if you hear me, baby.”

Jaden and Col both glanced in the direction of the escalators leading down to the train platforms beneath the station, then nodded. “Good. Good boys,” breathed Jaden’s mom. “Now, there’s a door over on your left,” she continued. “See it? Wooden door, to the right of the elevator.”

“I see it,” said Col, and Jaden raised a thumb.

“Good. Now go, quickly. Mike will meet you there.”

They scurried across the station, headed for the door. “Who’s Mike?” Col asked.

“The Hell should I know?” Jaden shrugged. “Some work dude, I guess.”

They hit the door and tried the handle. Locked. Jaden thudded the flat of his hand against the wood. “Open the door, Mike. Come on, hurry up, you bitch!”

The door flew inwards and Jaden found himself staring down the barrel of an assault rifle. A middle-aged man in army fatigues glared at him, his finger tightening on the weapon’s trigger. “Who are you calling a bitch?” he said in a Southern growl.

Jaden swallowed, then turned to Col. “Yeah, man. Who are you calling a bitch?”