Autumn: Aftermath (31 page)

Harte and the others who still carried torches obliged, but by the time they’d all got their lights aimed toward him, Michael had disappeared. He ducked down, his chin almost scraping the surface of the mire, and stretched out his arms. Moments later he stood up again, dripping with decay.

“Did you slip?” Lorna asked. She held out her hand to him. “Come on, let’s go back…”

Michael was grinning. “I think this is it. I think I can feel a way through. Has anybody got anything I can dig with?”

He realized as soon as he’d said it that that was a stupid question as none of them had anything with them other than torches and Howard’s screwdriver. He sunk both hands into the decay and pulled out a limb. At first he thought it was an arm, but he realized it was a leg and he stripped away what little muscles and nerves remained, then snapped off what was left of a flapping foot. Using the ankle end of the leg as a prod, he tried to feel and push his way through. He tried to dig frantically and, after a few seconds of concerted effort, he discarded the leg and shoved his arm into the gap he’d made in the offensive gloop. Working blind, he grabbed at whatever he could get hold of now and tried to drag it all back toward him. Sucking, squelching noises filled the narrow space as more and more of the mess came away in large congealed chunks. He pushed his weight forward against the blockage, and more of the decay toppled away. And then he felt cold, relatively fresh air on his face.

“I don’t think there’s a door,” he said, “just a hole. Everyone ready?”

No one answered but he didn’t care. He took a deep breath, dropped his shoulder, and charged forward, throwing himself at the clog of remains which was blocking their way out. It gave way with surprisingly little effort and then, suddenly, he was outside. A huge mass of death came spilling out after him, as if he’d burst an enormous spot on the side of the castle. The rest of the group staggered out, glistening with decay in the faint light of the moon. They stood together, soaked and stinking but not giving a damn, just relieved to be outside the castle walls again.

45

How the hell had he missed that?

Will Bayliss looked across the castle courtyard. It was pitch black—still the middle of the night—but he was sure he’d seen something moving over by the prefabricated buildings. Jas, Mel, Paul Field, and Ainsworth were in one of the caravans, trying to keep warm and arguing about what they were going to do next. Jas, who seemed to rapidly be losing touch with the rest of them, was trying to lay down the law and tell them exactly how things were going to be—how they were going to leave the castle before morning and track Kieran and the rest of those fuckers down. Bayliss had had enough. Who the hell did Jas think he was? About twenty minutes ago he’d used the excuse of going for a piss to get out of the caravan for a while. He’d have stayed out longer if it hadn’t been so bloody cold.

He was about to go back inside, but the glimpse of movement over the way had stopped him in his tracks. That was them, it had to be. The dumb bastards hadn’t seen him either. He slipped back into the caravan.

“Where’ve you been?” Mel asked. Bayliss ignored her.

“Found them, Jas,” he said, grinning. “They’re in the gift shop.”

*   *   *

The five of them crept slowly around the perimeter wall, two coming from one side, three from the other.

“Stupid fuckers,” Jas said. “What were they thinking? Why go to all that effort, then just hide in the bloody gift shop? Fucking morons.”

Ainsworth crept along behind him. He desperately wanted to see her again. There were just a handful of people left alive now, and all he wanted was to see just one of them. He wanted to tell Lorna how sorry he was and how he’d understood why she’d done what she had.

Jas stopped just short of the gift shop door, and gestured for Bayliss, Field, and Melanie to stop on the other side. He had one of the rifles with him, and by God, this time he thought he might actually use it. He rushed forward, pumped full of adrenaline, and kicked the door open.

Then he stopped.

Corpses began lurching toward him, and he backed away in horror as they spilled out of the open door and flooded into the courtyard. Even in the pitifully low light the full extent of their danger was immediately apparent. These creatures were stronger than all the others he’d seen on the other side of the castle wall, less decayed and more controlled. Had they been hiding? Waiting for him?

“The dead!” he screamed. “The dead are inside!”

Ainsworth tried to drag him away. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jas remained rooted to the spot, the corpses drawing ever closer. Ainsworth looked up and saw the other three running for cover. Were they heading back to the caravans? No, it looked like they had other plans. They were heading for the van which had been parked across the gate to block the entrance. And now someone was opening the gate …

“Wait!” he yelled, but they ignored him. He started to run, but then looked back at Jas, who had hardly moved. The nearest of the dead had lifted their arms and were almost upon him now, ready to attack. He looked back again when he heard an engine starting. The van moved with sudden speed, skidding around in a tight circle, then driving straight out through the open gate and into the decay outside. It was impossible to see what was happening from here, but Ainsworth knew the dead would no doubt be pouring in through the gate too. After standing strong for so long, the castle was about to be overthrown.

He grabbed Jas by the arm and pulled him away. Jas was terrified. Ainsworth couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone look so scared. “Come on, Jas. We have to get out of here.”

46

Freezing cold and disorientated, Michael, Lorna, Harte, and the others were struggling to
keep moving.

“Where now?” Howard asked, teeth chattering.

“We need to find somewhere to shelter and get some fresh clothes. We’re going to get hypothermia if we don’t,” Kieran said.

“You know the area better than the rest of us,” Harte said. “Where do you suggest?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied unhelpfully. “I need to work out where we’ve come out in relation to the front of the castle. There are a couple of villages nearby. A few other places, maybe. But we don’t want to be walking all night in the wrong direction and…”

Kieran’s voice trailed away. Michael was immediately concerned. “Problem?”

“Shh…” he said. “Listen.”

Everyone became completely silent. In the near distance they could hear an engine.

“Who’s that?” Caron asked.

“More of your lot coming back for us?” Lorna suggested.

47

When Harry arrived back in Chadwick, he was relieved to see the silhouette of the helicopter per
ched on top of the multistory car park. He drove the truck along increasingly familiar roads toward the marina. His passengers remained almost completely silent.

Zoe, sitting up front between Harry and Bob, stared in disbelief at the dead world they were traveling through, a stream of tears rolling down her cheeks. She knew Chadwick well—she’d had digs in the town since starting at university—and she could make out more than enough of it tonight to be able to appreciate the full extent of its remarkable deterioration. Being back in Chadwick hurt.

She hadn’t left the confines of the castle since the rescue of the others from the hotel near Bromwell. On that first morning when everyone else had died, she’d been stopping at the house of a friend who’d lived a couple of miles from the castle, and this was the first time she’d been back anywhere near home since her nightmare had begun. She’d been too scared to try getting back to her flat back then, and so had remained in her friend Sally’s house, with only Sally’s corpse for company. She’d tried phoning family and other friends tirelessly, but no one had answered and then the line had stopped connecting, and then her mobile signal had died. She’d stayed where she was for a while—unaware that there were other survivors so close—until she’d woken up one morning and found dead Sally standing over her. She’d thrown the body of her dead friend out of her own home and barricaded herself in for weeks until she’d heard Kieran and Jackson out looting and tracked them back to the castle.

It had been obvious from the very beginning that there would have been no point trying to get home because all that Zoe would have found would have been the bodies of her loved ones, but that didn’t stop her suddenly feeling as guilty as hell today.

Zoe remembered back to the Saturday before all of this had begun. She’d been to the gym first thing, and had then met up with Sally and Trish, a friend from uni. Sally had picked her up in her cool little red ugeot, and they’d parked in the multistory where the helicopter had landed today. The three of them had walked through town together to the marina where they’d had lunch in one of the waterfront cafés. They’d spent the whole afternoon talking about nothing—stuff so trivial and inconsequential that she couldn’t even begin to remember any of it now. Nothing had mattered back then. The biggest stresses in her life had been getting her assignments finished, turning up to lectures on time, and trying to make her overdraft last until the next installment of her student loan came in.

The truck turned a familiar corner. On the opposite side of the road to them now was a billboard advertising some new hair product Zoe had long since forgotten about. Christ, she’d had such a laugh when she’d last been here. Trish had been such a gullible cow, she remembered. She used to believe anything anyone told her. She’d been babbling constantly about how the shampoo she used was better than the one being advertised on the hoarding, because 72 percent of women said they preferred it according to what it said on the bottle. Silly sod had always been suckered in by adverts, but she’d never have it. It’s
science
, she kept trying to convince them, science and statistics. You can’t argue with facts!

The billboard advert was still there—just—but it had faded quite badly. The edges had curled, and one vertical strip of paper had been torn away, half of the model’s face now missing.
Got to try and forget about all that now
, she told herself.
It’s all gone
. Zoe shook her head and tried to look anywhere but at the street she’d walked along with her friends that last Saturday afternoon. It was covered with the remains of dead people now—some of the people she’d walked alongside that day, perhaps—and some of them were still moving ever so slowly forward.
Everything you remember is gone, and you’re never going to get it back again
.

What was left of the population of Chadwick caused Harry little concern this morning. They were too slow and too badly decayed to pose any real threat anymore. Beyond what looked like a low hillock formed entirely of body parts—the remains of the crowd which had been drawn to the marina by the sounds of the living—he could see the road which would take them down to the edge of the water. He swerved around what was left of the corpses and continued until he was as close as he could get to where the Duchess was moored. At the sound of the approaching engine, Richard appeared on the jetty.

Harry stopped and his frightened, bewildered passengers piled out.

“Well done, mate,” Richard said, shaking Harry’s hand. He could immediately tell from Harry’s expression and his less than enthusiastic response that all was not well. “Problem?”

“This isn’t everyone,” he said. “We got in okay, got this lot loaded into the truck, then it all went shit-shaped. There was nothing I could do. They were firing at us. I had to get out.”

Richard looked anxiously along the expectant faces which had gathered on the jetty. “Michael?”

Harry shook his head. “Don’t know what happened to him. Harte too. I lost the pair of them.”

The two men stood and stared at each other in silence for a moment longer, both thinking the same thing.

“We talked about this,” Richard said. “We knew there was a chance it might happen.”

“I know that, but it doesn’t make it any easier, does it?”

“What do we do now?” Zoe asked. Harry took her arm and pointed out their boat.

“Get everything and everybody loaded up onto the
Duchess
.”

“What about…?” she started to ask, not bothering to finish her obvious question.

“What do you think?” Harry asked Richard. “We can’t just give up on them and ship out.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do,” Richard said, “but we both know that’s exactly what we have to do. It’s what we agreed last night. It’s what we
all
agreed.”

“I know, but—”

“But nothing.
We agreed
.”

Harry knew he was right. “Do me a favor before we ship out, though,” he said hopefully.

“What?”

“One last flyover. Just a quick look. It’s the least we owe Emma.”

Richard thought carefully before answering.

“Okay. It’ll be dawn in a few more hours. We’ll wait until the light breaks.”

48

Over the months the castle had been completely encircled with dead flesh. The thought of having to
hike back across it had filled both Michael and Harte with dread, but the reality had proved to be less of an ordeal than they’d expected, certainly no worse than what they’d just been through underneath the castle. That had actually proved to be good preparation for trudging through the ankle-deep, frost-encrusted, once-human slime outside. It was somehow easier the second time around.