The Left Series (Book 5): Left On The Run (38 page)

“It must have been left here when the outbreak started,” Hannigen surmised. “It’s probably been left standing for the best part of a year.”

I cupped my hands against the driver’s window and peered inside the cab. I shrieked and recoiled at the sight inside the interior. The others instinctively raised their respective weapons and took a backward step from the bus.

“What is it, Brett? What did you see?” McElroy snapped.

My heart still pounded in my chest but I did my best to regain my composure and pointed to the driver’s window. “The guy, the driver is still sitting in there. What’s left of him.”

“Is he dead, as in dead or moving around dead?” McElroy asked.

“He looks pretty much dead… I mean as in terminated,” I stammered. “He’s nothing more than a skeleton.”

McElroy, Smith and Hannigen moved to the window and took a close look for themselves.

“He ‘aint going to be driving a bus no more,” Smith muttered. “Okay, so how do we find a way inside here?”

Hannigen pressed a button beside the door but nothing happened.

“I’m guessing the battery is as flat as a pancake, huh?” I asked. 

Hannigen shook his head. “The system should work from an air compressor inside so the door should open. It doesn’t need to operate on the battery. The only thing I can think is that the driver disabled the pneumatic system while he was inside. He probably turned it off to stop any infected ejits from getting inside the bus.”

“Can we still open the door?” Smith asked.

“Aye, if we can get inside and turn the pneumatic system back on. The switch is usually by the driver’s control panel somewhere.”

“Even if we do get the door open, how are we going to start this bastard?” I sighed.

“Well, if the driver is still in his seat, I’m guessing the keys must be in there too,” Hannigen said, holding his chin in thought. “Why would he lock himself inside then throw away the keys?”

“Fair point,” I admitted. “But the battery will still be flat won’t it?”

Hannigen nodded. “More than likely but a mate of mine used to drive one of these things around the city. I remember him saying they used to carry a booster charger with them at all times. A broken down bus in the middle of Belfast would have caused chaos with the traffic. My guess would be they’d have kept it in the storage compartment there.” He pointed to a closed metal flap running along the side of the bus. “Only problem is it works on the same pneumatic system as the exit door. We need to find a way inside.” He glanced up at the open top deck.

“How high would you say that upper deck is?” Smith asked.

“Maybe twelve feet,” McElroy mumbled.

“Okay, so I’m six feet four and I’m guessing you’re both around the same height, right?” Smith pointed to McElroy and Hannigen, who both nodded. “If we all lifted a tall, skinny guy who’s around six feet in height, he may be able to reach the top of that deck, huh?”

“I guess you’re talking about me?” I groaned.

Smith shrugged. “Well, look at the three of us.” He circled his hand around McElroy, Hannigen and himself. “We’re big, heavy guys. You’re a little lighter than we are, Wilde Man. You should take that as a compliment.”

“All right,” I sighed. “Tell me what you want me to do once I’m inside the damn stupid bus.”

Hannigen went through the ins and outs of the pneumatic system once again and explained the switch or lever should be located around the driver’s area. I braced myself as the three big guys hoisted me up in the air, as though I was lighter than oxygen. They maneuvered their hands around so they cupped the soles of my boots. I tottered but kept my balance and leaned forward to grip onto the top edge of the upper deck. The guys all pushed upward in a single thrust, sending me up and over the side of the top deck. I landed head first in a pile of snow but still felt the full force of floor’s solid surface beneath.

I grabbed hold of a seat beside me and hauled myself to my feet. I dabbed my nose and mouth to check for bleeding and was surprised to see my hand was clean.

“Thanks a bunch, guys,” I groaned, turning around and looking down at the three men below.

“Quit whining, Wilde and open the damn door will you?” Smith barked.

“Some appreciation would be nice,” I muttered, trudging along the upper deck’s aisle.

I drew my Taurus handgun as I stood at the top of the staircase, just in case any undead were lurking on the lower deck. Taking the steps slowly and one at a time, I held the firearm pointing upwards and close to my chest. Puddles of water from melted snow drenched the lower deck floor and a musty stench of death and decaying flesh attacked my nostrils while I padded down the steps.

I trod cautiously along the center aisle, checking the seats and floor for any signs of hibernating zombies. The further I pressed forward I noticed the black rubber floor was coated with large blood stains, dried onto the surface beneath the water. A few discarded plastic bags sat on the seats, stuffed with tourist type items and leaflets.

Through the smoked glass windows, I saw Smith, McElroy and Hannigen approach the side door of the bus. They were talking to me but they were all gabbling at once so I couldn’t decipher what any of them were saying.

I drew near to the driver’s seat and glanced over the skeletal remains still sitting in place. There was no flesh left on the skull, which was fixed in an eternal grimace. A few long hairs still sprouted at the sides of the head and the driver’s uniform was still wrapped around the bony corpse. I noticed the front of the former driver’s jacket and shirt was heavily blood stained and wondered how the poor bastard had died. Obviously, his demise hadn’t been a peaceful one. 

“Hurry it up, Wilde,” Smith yelled from outside. His voice sounded slightly muffled due to the acoustics of the bus interior.

I glanced out of the window then back to the long since dead driver, trying to ignore the rank smell of decay.

“Sorry, pal but you absolutely reek,” I whispered. “Maybe you should try changing your aftershave.”

I leaned forward, checking around the seat for anything that resembled a switch or a lever. Nothing looked obvious and I became a little frustrated. Smith and the other two guys still hollered at me from outside. I saw a silver two-way switch and clicked it in the opposite direction. Immediately, a hissing noise briefly rattled through the cab.

“That’s it, you’ve got it,” Hannigen shouted. “Don’t touch anything else in there.”

Hannigen hit the button on the outside again and this time the door slid open, sounding like a huge exhalation of air.

“Right, let’s see if we can open that compartment,” he said, breezing alongside me in the cab.

“Okay, but let’s get rid of our departed friend first,” I said. “He’s stinking the whole bus out.” I waved my hand in front of my nose for effect.

“Stand out the way, man,” McElroy said as he boarded the bus. “I’ll get the wee fellow out the way.” He grabbed the skeletal driver by the front of his blood stained jacket and hauled the body out of the seat.

I watched as McElroy then tossed the bag of bones out of the door. The driver’s skeleton hit the wall next to the bus and rattled onto the ground. Smith glanced at the skeleton then back at McElroy, shrugged and hopped onto the bus.

“Have you no respect for the dead, man?” Hannigen grunted.

“Great respect,” McElroy muttered. “But it’s not reciprocated.”

“Okay, so are we any closer to firing this damn thing up?” Smith asked.

“Just looking for the switch now,” Hannigen said as he bobbed his head around the driver’s control panel. “It should be here somewhere.” He turned and glanced at me. “Brett, go out there and see if the outside panel pops open will you?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Give me a shout if it opens up.”

“Got you,” I muttered, heading back out of the bus.

I stood in front of the side panel along the side of the bus and waited as Hannigen tried pressing buttons and turning all kinds of switches. I lit a cigarette and smoked in silence to pass the time. Eventually, the panel did jut open slightly with another hiss of air.

“That’s got it,” I called out. “The panel has opened up.”

Hannigen muttered something from inside the cab but I didn’t catch what he said. I moved towards the panel and lifted it fully open. My breath seemed to be sucked from my body when I saw a scowling face lurch at me from the darkness of the compartment.

Chapter Sixty-Three

I yelled in shock and fear and jumped backwards, letting the panel slam back downwards. My back hit the wall and I nearly tripped over the skeletal driver’s remains. Smith and McElroy stepped off of the bus in time to see the panel opening up. A thin female crawled out of the compartment. She had long black hair covering her face and the torn remnants of a yellow summer dress barely covered her body. The woman hissed, baring her teeth as she crawled on her hands and knees towards us. Her hair flopped to the side and I saw her eyes were covered with the milky cataract like substance the undead possessed.

“She’s one of them,” I stammered, pulling out my handgun.

“What the hell is she doing in the bus compartment?” McElroy muttered.

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I didn’t think to ask. Are we going to shoot her or what?”

McElroy glanced around and sniffed nonchalantly. “Aye, no need to waste bullets though.” He pulled up the leg of his combat pants, revealing a long bladed knife inside a sheath strapped around his lower leg. “You can never be too careful,” he said, sliding the knife from the sheath.

Smith and I stood back, allowing McElroy some space. He stalked forward in a crouching stance, holding the knife out in front of him. The female zombie growled and crawled closer to him, unaware her existence was about to end. McElroy struck like a cobra. He lunged forward and stabbed the knife blade deep into the side of the zombie’s skull. She twitched slightly for a brief moment then slumped face first onto the ground. McElroy withdrew the knife and wiped the excess blood and brain matter off the blade, using the woman’s torn dress.

“Another one bites the dust,” McElroy muttered.

“If you fellows have stopped faffin’ about, I’d be grateful if we could take a look inside that compartment now,” Hannigen rumbled as he stood in the bus doorway.

McElroy shone his flashlight inside the dark compartment while we stood with our firearms at the ready in case any more zombies lurked inside. No more undead occupied the space and Hannigen began pulling out the items inside. He opened up a briefcase sized, gray plastic box and his eyes widened.

“Bingo!” he chimed. “This is the battery jumper.” He lifted out a yellow, box shaped item with red and black cables wound across the center.

“Let’s just hope the damn thing works okay,” Smith morosely chipped in.

Hannigen tried the bus ignition key before we fitted the jumper onto the battery. Predictably, the engine didn’t fire. A few ignition lights briefly flashed then faded into a dull shimmer, before vanishing completely. Hannigen applied the jumper cables to the battery in the engine compartment at the rear of the bus. He turned the charge up to maximum and I heard a high pitched whining sound.

“Okay, let’s try her again,” he said, heading back to the cab.

This time the diesel engine spluttered into life when Hannigen turned the ignition key. Black smoke belched from the muffler somewhere beneath the floor and a dark cloud wafted up above the bus.

“That doesn’t look too healthy,” I said, watching the smoke evaporate into the sky.

“We only need the damn thing to roll for a few miles and that will be it,” McElroy said.

We packed away the battery jumper while the engine idled and closed the side compartment back up. Hannigen sprawled into the driver’s seat and closed the door once we were all onboard.

Hannigen glanced down at the gauges on the dash. “Quarter of a tank of diesel, should be plenty enough for what we need.” He swiveled around slightly in his seat. “Okay, Thomas, which way do we go to get the hell out of here?” he asked McElroy.

“Head on to the wall at the back of the grounds and keep going around that building to the left,” McElroy explained, pointing the way. “There’s a sliding gate behind the building. That route takes us to a track behind the prison. We’ll have to loop around and come back out on the Crumlin Road.”

Hannigen nodded and revved the engine. We drove slowly forward, towards the building situated at the far corner of the prison grounds. Hannigen negotiated his way around the structure and a tall gate, constructed of circular metal railings confronted us.

“Stop the bus and I’ll hop out to open up the gate,” McElroy said.

Hannigen nodded.

The operation went smoothly and McElroy even had time to close up the gate after we’d driven out of the prison grounds. Hannigen drove further down the track and headed for another gate to our right.

“Oh, shit,” Hannigen muttered and slowed the bus a few feet from the second metal gate.

Smith, McElroy and I hurried to the cab to peer through the windshield and see what the problem was. A big parking lot sat on the other side of the gate, spreading to the left. The route we wanted to take was straight through the lot and to the right. The difficulty we faced was getting through the vast amount of zombies who swarmed around the gate. They reached through the bars, clawing the air and growling at us.