The Zombie Saga (Book 3): Burn The Dead: Riot (7 page)

“Move,” Natalie demands. “You’re in the way.”

“What’s the point?” he says, coldly. “We’re all fucked anyway.”

“We need to seal up the door,” she replies. “If they find out we’re in here then that lock might not hold.”

He doesn’t budge, and then looks away like a spoilt toddler.

“Bloody move, Curtis!” she snaps. “Now!”

He turns to her and then sighs loudly. “
Fine
,” he says, moving away from the door, too lazy even to take his hands out of his pockets, giving us barely enough room to put the sofa down.

What a complete twat! I knew there was a good reason I hate Cardiff.

I look at the door and then at the sofa. It’s not exactly planks of wood nailed down—but it’s better than nothing.

“What are you doing?” I hear Adriana ask. “You’re not well.”

Turning, I see that Ted has started to get up off the barstool.

“Stop it, Ted,” she says, grabbing his arm. “Sit down.”

Ted pulls out of her grip and stumbles frantically over to the far right corner of the room. Adriana chases after him.

Before I even have time to guess what the problem is, I see brown vomit gushing out from Ted’s mouth, splattering all over the carpet. Adriana rubs the centre of his back, his body clenching with every wretch.

I glance at Ginge; he has that same worried look on his face as Natalie has. Puking is definitely not a good sign.

Curtis is now sitting on the sofa, looking pretty disinterested in the whole situation; his eyes glued to his mobile phone. Texting a loved one maybe? Or just distracting himself from the situation? Either way, I dislike the guy.

How the hell did this
prick
end up sharing a womb with Natalie?

After a couple of minutes, Adriana escorts Ted over to the sofa and carefully lowers him down. Curtis reluctantly goes to sit on the floor, his back against the wall, his eyes locked onto the dying man.

The couple sit quietly. Ted closes his eyes, clearly drained from being sick. It’s probably best if he keeps his eyes open—just in case. But I can’t bring myself to mention it.

Natalie and I each sit on a barstool; Ginge sits on one of the other stools, staring at the door. I wish we’d found an empty VIP suite, I wish we didn’t have to look at a grieving wife as she waits for her husband to die. Even though I know jack shit about them, I still feel sorry for them; still feel a responsibility to keep them safe.
Well
—keep Adriana safe, because sooner or later Ted will turn.

And then we’ve got even bigger problems.

I look through the window. From here, all I can see is the blue sky and the top of the opposite stand. None of the craziness of the day, all the death. Just an ordinary football match on an ordinary summer’s day. Even the muffled screams sound like cheering fans. Will all this hell just fade if I keep staring, keep imagining? Probably not. But it’ll do for now.

I snap out of my daydream when I hear the knock on the door.

Everyone’s eyes focus on the noise. Ted and Adriana slowly move off the sofa, hands clenched tightly together.

Fists clenched, I hear another knock. I get up and edge towards the door. Adriana slowly shakes her head as if to say
don’t let anyone else in
.

Is she right?

But what if they hadn’t let
us
in? We’d be
dead
.

Maybe they’ll move on, try another door, one of other VIP suites further along the corridor.

Maybe it’s a Nec.

My phone in my pocket starts to vibrate. Frantically, I pull it out, as the low hum is louder than I thought. Just before I get to the
Cancel
button I notice the name written across the screen.

I push the
Answer
button and put the speaker to my ear.

A grin slowly forms on my lips when I hear a familiar voice.

It’s Jonny.

11

Ginge and I slide the sofa out of the way and then unlock the door. Even though I know it’s safe, that there can’t possibly be a pack of Necs stood behind it, I still have to brace myself before opening it. Jonny hurries inside; his entire body drenched in sweat. Ginge locks the door behind him, and we push the sofa back into position.

To see his face, a face that I thought I’d never see again, fills me with such relief, it almost cancels out this shit-storm of a day. I go to hug him, but he pushes me away.

“Fuck you, Alfie,” he snaps. “You left me and Nathan out there to die.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, flashes of Nathan’s death filling my head. “I tried to pull you away, but you elbowed me in the mouth. Don’t you remember?”

“You don’t give up on friends,” Jonny scrutinises the room, “so you can
shack up
with the enemy.”

I shake my head in amazement. Even for a coked-up Jonny, that’s pushing it. “There’s no enemy in here, mate. We’re all in this shit together. The enemy is out there, ripping everyone apart—
both sides
.”

Ginge steps in and places his hand on Jonny’s shoulder. “Look, Jonny, we had no choice. Necs were coming from everywhere. We had nowhere else to hide.”

Jonny shoves Ginge’s hand off, and walks over to Curtis. I see an image of Jonny throwing a kick while Curtis sits on the floor. But he doesn’t; he just throws him one of psycho looks, and then steps behind the bar. I’m not sure I even care what happens to that Cardiff nob; it’s Natalie I’m concerned about. She’s caught up in the middle of this stupid feud. Jonny opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of beer. He pops off the cap with the bottle-opener, letting it fall to the floor, and then downs the entire bottle in one go.

“If you’re gonna stay in here,” Adriana says cautiously, as she lowers her husband back onto the sofa, “then you better stay calm. We don’t want to draw any attention to us.” She sits down.

Jonny opens another bottle and smirks at her. “This
is
me calm.” He glances at Curtis. “You haven’t seen me angry yet.”

I
have
.
Plenty of times.

Curtis keeps quiet. I can tell by his eyes that he’s desperate to get up off the floor and stand up to Jonny. But he’s completely outnumbered in here. And even if he weren’t, he wouldn’t stand much of a chance against a pissed-off Jonny anyway—especially not after the guy just lost his only brother.

Jonny gulps down the beer and then opens a third. Any other time and I might ask him to slow down a little, save some for us. But not now. Let him vent.

He sits up on the back counter of the bar, his legs dangling across the fridge, watching Ted and Adriana with curious, glazed over eyes. “So what’s wrong with you two, then?” he asks, sipping his beer.

“None of your business,” Adriana says with a venomous tone. It doesn’t take a genius to know that Jonny’s already figured out what’s up with Ted.

Jonny chuckles and looks at me. “
Fucking hell.
What’s this bitch’s problem? I only asked a simple question.”

“Just keep out of it,” Natalie says to him. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”

He finishes his drink, reaches between his knees and opens the fridge to get a fourth bottle. “Of course it has.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Natalie replies.

“It does when one of us is infected,” he replies, turning his attention back to Ted.

“He’s not infected,” Adriana says, “he’s just injured himself, that’s all.”

“Now I know that’s bullshit,” he replies, jumping down from the counter and walking over to the couple.

Adriana leaps up from the sofa and blocks his path. “Piss off back to whichever
hole
you crawled out of. This is
our
room. Find somewhere else to hide.”

Jonny spots Ted’s injured arm, with its blackened veins spreading like tentacles.

He steps closer.

“I mean it!” she snaps, pushing him back. “Get away!”

“Don’t be so paranoid, woman,” Jonny replies, standing firm, a cold grin spreading across his face. “I just want to see the bite mark; that’s all. I’m not gonna do anything.”

Adriana’s eyes are wide, filled with tears, and her hands are shaking. “Get back!” she demands. “I’m warning you.”

I can’t bear it any longer—she’s been through enough. So I go over to him and grab his shoulder. “Come on, Jon, leave them be, yeah? They’re good people.”

Jonny slowly turns his head, looks down at my hand like I’ve just smeared shit over his clothes, and then punches me square in the jaw. I fly backwards onto the floor, crashing into the barstools. A clanging of metal echoes around the room as they topple over like dominos.

“What did you do that for?” Ginge asks. “We’re meant to be friends. What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Friends? That’s fucking rich,” Jonny replies. “He’s an idiot. You all are.” He points to Ted. “This old
prick
is infected. He’s gonna turn into one of those Necs soon. And then we’re all screwed.”

“And what do you propose we do then?” I ask, cupping my aching chin as Natalie helps me to my feet. “Throw him out the door? Or better still, through the window?”

“Both good suggestions,” Jonny replies. “Finally a little sense.”

Adriana tries to slap him across the face, but he catches hold of her wrist. “Get out of here,” she says as she tries with her left hand, but Jonny does the same again. “We were here first, so why don’t you all throw your
selves
out the window, and leave us alone.”

“Shut the fuck up, woman,” Jonny says, pushing her away as he releases her arms. “We ain’t going anywhere. He’s
infected
, and it’s only a matter of time before he kills us all.”

“Step away from my wife,” Ted orders, trying to stand up, but failing, “or I’ll throw you out myself. See how long you last out there.”

Adriana goes to her husband and helps him back down. “Try not to move, Ted. I can handle this.”

Jonny turns to us, a look of bewilderment on his face. “Have you all lost your minds? You know I’m right. Once you’re bitten, that’s it—you get sick, you die, and then you come back. We’ve all seen it on the TV. You all know this, so why the
fuck
am I still talking about it?”

“Jon, if you were bitten,” I say, “or Ginge, or anyone of the guys, I’d never throw you out to the slaughter, no matter how far gone. You just don’t do that to mates.”

“Yeah, well, you ain’t no mate of mine,” he replies, “if you think I’d want to live a
second
as one of those things. I wouldn’t let it happen to you, Ginge, Hoppy…
or
Nathan.” He pauses for a second as if gathering his words. “I couldn’t let him end up like that.” He starts to take heavy breaths, clearly holding back his anguish. “I had to put him down. Burning them is the only true death. And there’s not exactly a furnace ‘round here. So you’ve got to do whatever’s necessary.” He balls his fists up and lets out a slow, controlled breath. “So I grabbed the fire extinguisher…
and I smashed his head to nothing.
”

My heart sinks, my stomach churns. Suddenly the pain in my jaw feels like a scratch, an incidental—nothing compared to the horror that must be racing through his mind. I feel the need to go to him, force a hug on him. But it’s not a good idea.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” Natalie says, showing genuine sympathy in her eyes.

Jonny scowls at her. But he doesn’t say anything; he just sits down on a barstool and stares at the empty TV screen opposite. He rests his elbows on his thighs, and then drops his forehead into his palms.

I don’t know if he’s crying. It’s hard to tell. Maybe he’s past tears, past taking it out on complete strangers.

The room becomes silent, just as it should be.

The only sound I can hear is the muted wails of Necs through the window as they devastate
our
stadium.

But we’re all together. I thank God for that at least.

12

Leaning against the wall, opposite the bar, I glance down at my phone. Still no reply from Wendy. The signal’s been cutting out, so the message probably got lost in the airwaves. The clock on the home screen reads: 17:43. The game would’ve finished by now. Even though it shouldn’t matter, I can’t help but wonder what the score might have been. Guess we’ll never know now.

We probably would’ve lost anyway.

No matter how messed up Jonny is right now, I know he’s right about Ted—we all do. He
will
turn soon, sooner or later—and then we’ll have a bloody Nec locked in with us.

Adriana is huddled up next to him on the sofa, holding his hand, slightly calmer than she was earlier. Ted’s eyes are half-open, clinging onto life, the colour of his cheeks drained to a creamy grey. It doesn’t look like he has long. He wheezes as his large gut rises, up and down.

God help us when it stops doing that.

Jonny still hasn’t cried. Don’t know how he can be so strong. Anyone else would have broken down by now. But not him. An uncontrollable rage is the only show of emotions we’re likely to get out of him.

Natalie is sitting up against the wall next to her brother, the side of her head resting on his left shoulder. They probably want to be as far from Jonny as possible. I don’t blame them one bit. I’m meant to be his friend, and I might have to do the same.

Looking back over at Ted, I notice his eyes are now wide open. He then starts to remove his red necktie.

“What are you doing?” Adriana asks him. “Is it too tight?”

“You need to tie me up,” he announces with conviction, “before it’s too late.”

Adriana shakes her head in protest. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ted. No one’s going to tie you up. We’ll be out of here in a few hours.”

“No, we won’t. It’s going to take some time to rescue us; there’s just too many infected.”

“No,” she sobs, reaching for the tie. “This is not the way. We’re not barbarians.”

Ted manages to pull it away from her grasp as he stands up, struggling for breath as he uses the arm of the sofa for support. “It’s this or out there, Adriana. I won’t risk hurting you—or anyone else for that matter.”