Blood Memory: The Complete Season One (Books 1-5) (36 page)

Stan shrugged. “Maybe they just wandered down here.”

“For the fresh air?”

A stiff breeze fluttered a banner that hung across the street. It was smeared in red and torn, but the writing was still legible:

NORFOLK FAYRE THIS WEEKEND!

BRING THE FAMILY!

“Well, that explains it,” Jordan said. He shifted into first. “Hold on.”

“
Take Jessie,” Stan said.

Anne double checked Jessie’s seatbelt and brac
ed her arms on the front seats.

Stan took off his jumper and jammed it into the hole in the windscreen.
He nodded. “Let’s do it.”

The Lurchers from behind scraped their fingernails across the Vauxhall
’s boot.

Jordan performed a wheel spin, took off the handbr
ake, and the car leapt forward, out of reach of the Lurchers behind, but into the reach of the Lurchers ahead. The revs roared high and Jordan shifted into second gear. Then third.

They slammed through the first wave of Lurchers. They bounced off the car
like they were made of rubber.

Jordan shifted down a gear and they picked up speed again.
They powered through the horde. Blood splattered over the front window. A hand flew out and grabbed the driver’s side window wiper. It snapped off. The bloody rainfall continued, obscuring Jordan’s view.

“How are we doing, Stan?” Jordan asked.

Despite the hole, Stan’s windscreen was clear. “Just up ahead. We’ll be there in a few seconds. A little to the left.”

Jordan turned the wheel slightly.

“Now a little to the right.”

The car hit another Lurcher, and as it sunk beneath the car, there was a sharp
crack!
and the car careened to the left.

“To the right!” Stan said. “To the right!”

Jordan wrestled with the steering wheel. “I can’t! It’s stuck! Something must have clogged up the drive shaft!”

“Hit the brakes! We’re going to crash!”

Jordan mashed his foot on the brake pedal, but it was too late. The car hit the bridge with force, the bumper crunched and scraped across the bridge apex, sending the car up into the air. Anne screamed. The car landed heavily on the other side of the bridge, spinning like a top on its roof. It came to a stop and didn’t move.

“Next time,” Stan said, “I’ll drive.”

He had a cut above his eye. The blood ran into his eyebrows and stained them pink. There was the sharp burning tang of petrol, and the flicker of flames from somewhere in the engine. Through the back window the bridge obscured any Lurchers that might be coming, but did nothing to
shield the groans that gradually grew in volume.

“Are you guys okay in the back?” Jordan asked.

Anne unclipped her seatbelt and fell on the roof. “Never better.”

“Jess?”

“She’s fine.”

Jordan coiled up his leg and kicked at the front windscreen.
It fell from its plastic surround.

The road ahead wound sharply, disappearing around the corner. Up ahead beyond the verge was a sparse clutch of trees that led onto a dense forest. The sun had begun its descent,
playing peekaboo behind the foliage.

“If we can get to the woods,” Jordan said, helping pull Stan clear, “we might be able to get away.”

Jessie had a cut just above her right ear. Stan looked at it, telling her to stay still.

Jordan reached inside the car for Anne. “Take my hand.”

“I can’t,” Anne said, grunting. “I’m stuck! It’s my leg. It’s trapped under the front seat.”

Jordan crawled into the car.
The seat had been forced back and down, tightening around Anne’s leg. Jordan reversed out of the wreckage.

“Stan, take Jess and head for the woods. Keep walking till your feet get wet, and you’ll know you’ve made it to the ocean.”

“But you and Anne-”

“We’ll catch up.”

“Jordan-”

“Just go. We haven’t got much time.”

Jordan hugged Jessie close. “We’re going to be all right, Jess. You just wait and see. We’ll be with you again in no time.” He put a hand to his cheek. It was wet. “Jess, you’re crying!” Jordan hugged her tight. “Stan, look at this.”

“She must be waking up or someth
ing.” Stan smiled. “Car crashes. Good for what ails ya.”

Jordan kissed Jessie on the forehead. “You take care of Stan, okay?”

Stan put an arm round Jessie and led her away.

“Stan,” Jordan said, “just what did Mary say to you on the day she died?”

Stan smiled. “Meet us between here and the ocean and I’ll tell you.”

Stan and Jessie
paced off, heading toward the woods.

The
death groans rose in volume, but there was still no sign of the Lurchers. Jordan crawled inside the wreckage.

“If you’ve got any bright ideas,” he said to Anne, “now might be the time to tell me. I don’t really want a rusty old Vauxhall Cavalier to be my tomb.”

Jordan climbed into the front seat, lifted the seat adjustor latch up, and pulled it forward. It didn’t budge. He sat up and looked at the tracks the seat was supposed to run along. They were bent crooked.

“It’s no good,” Anne said. “I can’t get out. You should go.”

“You should know better than that,” Jordan said, clambering into the seat beside her. “Since when would I leave you behind?” He put his back to the seat, and his feet on the chair in front. “I’m going to push. I want you to jiggle your leg and try to get it out, okay? On the count of one. One!”

He pushed. His back arched with the effort. Anne jiggled her leg, twisting and pulling in every direction. Jordan’s face turned beetroot red, but it was no good. It wouldn’t come free.

“Go, Jordan,” Anne said. “Get out of here. I don’t want you to die for me.”

“If I die
here, believe me it won’t be for you. Let’s try again.”

Jordan pushed the chair again. His body shook with the strain. He came to a stop, out of breath. It still hadn’t budged.

Anne put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Jordan.”

Jordan shook his head. “It’s not okay.”

“You have to go.”

“No.”

“Don’t you think I would leave if the situation was reversed?”

“Definitely not.”

He kicked and punched at the front seat, going into a mad berserker rage. He swore and roared and screamed. Strength waning, Jordan’s blows slowed, then stopped altogether. He rested his head against the seat in despair.

“Thank you for trying, but you have to go.”

Jordan shook his head. “Mary, Stacey, Selena… We’ve lost too many already. I can’t lose you too.”

Anne smiled. “That’s sweet.” She put a hand to his cheek. “I like you, Jordan.” Her cheeks blushed red.

“I like you too.”

Jordan ran the back of his fingers over her smooth skin. Anne leaned forward. Their lips
coming close…

The groans
doubled in volume.

Anne looked out the back window and saw the Lurchers crest the bridge. Dark shadows against the dying sunlight.

Jordan reached into his pocket and came out with two chill pills. “We don’t have to let them take us.”

Anne took one and held it between her fingers.
“Something so small…” She held the pill in her fist. “Selena shouldn’t have died like that.”

“It’s better than th
e alternative.”

Anne frowned. She wasn
’t so sure.

“
Well, here we go.” Jordan raised the pill to his mouth.

Anne put her hand on Jordan
’s arm. “Wait. We shouldn’t take them. If I’m going to die, I want to do it fighting. Every minute we can keep them here gives Stan and Jessie more time to escape.”

“We won’t be able to keep them here for long.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“The Lurchers will win, Anne. Eventually, they always do. Unless we take this pill.”

There were thuds on the roof – what was actually the underside – of the car. Others scratched at the glass windows, hollow shredded faces peering in.

“I’m not taking it,” Anne said.

“All right,” he said. “But once they’ve bitten us, we take them.”

The Lurchers growled and bumped into the car, fingers searching, prying, at the wreckage, the way a blind man finds the bathroom. One of them stumbled onto the broken windscreen and crawled inside. His top lip was missing,
giving him the appearance of a constant sneer. He was pushed down into the tarmac, his face cut open by shards of glass. A Lurcher reached between the front seats with hungry hands.

Jordan and Anne kicked with their free feet and punched with their hands. Lurcher necks cracked and lolled at unnatural angles. Heads caved in and thick pus rolled down their features. Their bodies fell between the seats, clogging it up.

The Lurchers outside pounded at the windows. Spider web cracks spread across the windows under Lurcher blows.

A beautiful Burt Backerach tune played on the radio
, kicked on by an oblivious Lurcher.

The Lurchers struggled to get through the gap between the front seats, clogged up by dead Lurchers. They grabbed the seats and pushed them apart to make more room. The seat dug deeper into Anne’s leg. She screamed.

Then she stopped. She pulled her leg free. The seat was torn from its moorings, the bolts sheared. A grey-haired Lurcher bared her teeth and gnashed at Anne’s freed leg. Anne brought it away and then kicked her in the face.

“Thank you!” she added.

Anne reached for Jordan’s hand. “We never get a break, do we?”

“No. But at least we’re together now.”

Jordan leaned over and kissed her on the lips. She reciprocated, kissing him back. She ran her hands through his hair. Her stomach twisted as the glass was smashed and they were exposed on all sides.

They emerged from the woods and walked across the flat open farmland. They walked due east. The early twilight sky picked out the falling black spray of rain that was caught by the wind and flew at a forty-five degree angle onto the land below. The rain turned the dirt to sludge that sucked at their shoes. They squinted against the rain.

The world was dark and featureless. With nothing to help guide them they were blind. Jessie
’s hair hung over her face. Stan brushed it back behind her ears. She shivered.

“
We have to keep going, love,” Stan said. “We have to find somewhere safe.”

Stan
took a step and bumped into something solid. The rain no longer patted him on the head. He stood in a square dry patch. He reached out in front of him and found there was a wall. It was rough and grainy. The rain bounced off a short shelf of roof that protruded from twenty feet up. There were gaps half an inch thick between the wooden boards. Stan pressed his eyes against them and peered inside, but couldn’t make anything out. Across the front door was a thick plank of wood.

“Jessie, stay here,” Stan said.

He braced his knees, which shook as he hefted the plank lock. It slid off the clasping strut and struck the sodden earth with a hollow
thunk
. He pushed open the door. It creaked with hinges that sounded like they would snap. Somewhere in the rafters a bird fluttered.

“Hello?” Stan said, voice shaking. “Is anyone there?”

His eyes acclimatized to the darkness. Half a dozen puddles pooled on the concrete floor, most swimming with a greasy film. The place smelled strongly of cattle. The rain made a muffled tapping sound.

Stan called Jessie in and closed the door behind her. He braced the door with a length of wood.

“Well, what would you like for tea?” he asked Jessie.

Jessie’s eyes moved to him
. She rubbed the necklace between her fingers.

“Burger? Steak?” He opened his backpack and spread a blanket on a dry patch of floor. “How about a nice tuna sandwich?”

Jessie’s face twitched. Stan peered closer. A muscle in her cheek spasmed.

“Jessie! Are you doing that?”

The corners of her mouth turned up.

“A smile!” Stan said. “Jessie! Are you smiling? That’s
incredible! Come sit down.” He eased her onto the blanket. “You must be feeling better. I’m going to make you the best tuna and stale bread sandwich you’ve ever had.”

He took out the bread and knife, and set about slicing it as thinly as he could.

He froze.

Outside, footsteps squelched in the mud.

Stan put his finger to his lips, unnecessarily quieting Jessie. He waited, listening. Another footstep. Closer this time.

Lightning flashed, casting dark shadows through the slats. There were two of them. Maybe more. The figures made their way toward the barn door.