“It won’t be so bad if we’re
careful,” said Mel.
Lou shook her head. “Being careful
means not taking risks. And going near a town is a risk. Hell, there are a few other
places on the way there that I wouldn’t go within a mile of either. Only
exception I’d make is supply runs, and you know how carefully we plan them.”
Charlie spoke. “Logic tells us that
this field, despite offering resources, isn’t safe if stalkers are getting to
us.”
“We’ve been over this, Charlie. We
looked for the nests. I used to think it was stalkers too, but where the hell
are they hiding?” I said.
“The one thing we can’t do, is
nothing,” said Lou.
We discussed things for an hour. It
was late afternoon, and the daylight slipped away and the sky darkened around
us. Everyone agreed that we couldn’t just ignore the helicopter, we had to go
and find it. The question was, who would go? The camp was on a delicate
balance, and a strong hand was needed to keep it steady.
“I’ll stay here,” I said. “I can’t
leave the camp to Darla. She was close to getting her way today, and it’s only
the helicopter that stopped her leaving. Besides, I need to look after Ben. And
I’m getting old.”
“You have to go, Kyle. You’re the
most experienced person here. Nobody has spent as much time in the Wilds as you
have,” said Mel.
“So maybe I’ve earned a break.”
I looked at the faces around me and
searched for agreement, but I found none.
“Sorry Kyle,” said Charlie. “I think
that if anyone is going, they’ll need your help.”
“Damn it,” I said. “What about Ben?”
“I’ll look after him,” said Charlie.
“No. I need you with us. We might
find the pilot alive, and if so, he’s gonna be hurt pretty bad.”
“I’m not a doctor,” said the
scientist.
“And I’m not Indiana Jones, but we’ll
have to make do.”
Mel bent down next to Ben and patted
his shoulder.
“I’ll come on the trip. And we can
bring him. I’ll look after him.”
I thought about it. I didn’t like the
idea, but I couldn’t think of a single alternative. The fact was that we had to
go and find the crash site no matter what. It was the first real hint of
civilisation in years, so were we really going to turn it down?
“Fine,” I agreed. “Who knows. Maybe
we’ll find Justin out there.”
As soon as I said the words, I felt a
pang of sadness in my chest. I pictured my friend back in the Battle of
Bleakholt. The look of resolve on his face as he told us about his plan. I
remembered watching him walking across the battle field toward the infected.
What had gone through his mind then? Did he think he was going to die?
At hearing Justin’s name, Mel’s face
turned.
“Damn it Kyle, I couldn’t care less
about him.”
Part of me wanted to drop everything,
right there and then, and just go and find Justin. My friend was out there,
somewhere. There were times when I thought about walking away from camp so that
I could search for him, but my responsibilities wouldn't let me.
“What about Billy?” said Lou.
It was a name I hadn’t heard in a
while, and it caught me by surprise.
“What about him?” I said.
“Maybe he’s out there.”
“He’s dead.”
In the battle of Bleakholt, Billy had
driven away on a quad bike with a group of stalkers in tow. The stalkers had
appeared during the middle of the battle, and there was no way we could have
fought them at the same time as the infected. Billy had decided to lead them
away, using himself as bait. I sometimes wondered what happened to him.
I guessed that he drove the quad as
far as he could with the stalkers in tow. Sooner or later the fuel tank had
emptied and the engine had spluttered. The bike slowed to a stop, and Billy
gripped the handlebars tighter, the prospect of his imminent death hanging over
him.
***
We decided to leave that night. We
could have left it until morning, but we knew that time wasn’t a resource we
had in abundance. After much discussion, the finally group was selected. We
needed a mixture of skills if we were going into the Wilds. Even though I
wasn’t happy with some of the choices, I knew that they were necessary. The
final group was me, Lou, Mel, Charlie, Ben, Reggie and finally, Gregor Horlock.
“No way am I taking him,” I had said,
when Melisa made her suggestion.
“He used to be in the army, Kyle,”
she said. “He’s got useful skills. Don’t just dismiss him because you don’t
like him. The meat might smell bad, but if it tastes okay then you eat it.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s one of Gregor’s sayings.”
“Jesus.”
Later that night, a mile away from
camp, we walked in silence toward the hills in the horizon. Somewhere east of
us was the Quarryman’ Secret, the pub Kendal and I had passed. To our west were
the Grey Basin woods. The legends of the countryside were silly in the
daylight, but at night the idea of murderous husbands and cannibal tribes was
all too plausible.
I turned and looked at the camp we
had left behind, and I watched a small bonfire flicker against the night sky. I
wondered what I would come back to, if I even came back at all. All I could
wish for was that we would find the helicopter, and return with some kind of
hope.
Chapter
12
“I used to play guitar,” said Lou.
She was sat on a rock that, if you
squinted enough, was in the shape of a hippo. She had taken off her boots and
socks and was massaging her right foot. Her skin was wrinkled. A few hours
earlier she had stood in a puddle that had reached up to her ankle.
“And the first few weeks were a
bitch,” she carried on. “After a while my hands were covered in callouses. I
thought it was bad then, but this is worse. I didn’t think you could get them
on your feet.”
“Jesus. Quit moaning,” said Mel. She
was stood straight, with her shoulders back.
I couldn’t help notice the difference
in the two women. Just a year ago, Mel was inexperienced in the Wilds. Lou made
a point of showing everyone that she was alright on her own and didn’t need
anyone’s help or support. Skip forward a year and a change had taken place. It
wasn’t like Lou had become a beacon of light, but she had mellowed a little.
She moaned more about the hardships we faced, which reminded us that she was
human. Not so long ago, she would have bottled things up until she burst.
Lou picked up a small stone from
beside her and lobbed it at Mel’s head. Mel ducked out of the way.
“I’ve been thinking of learning an
instrument,” said Charlie. Before setting out he had taken off his lab coat in
favour of a green raincoat. His curly hair was so long now that it reached down
to the hood.
Gregor turned to look at him, but he
didn’t say anything. The gigantic butcher had hardly said a word in the hours
since we had left camp.
“Yeah,” Charlie carried on. “Always
fancied myself as a bit of a drummer.”
He mimed playing drums with his right
arm, and then looked down at the stump of his left arm, twisting his face in
exaggerated confusion. The he stopped and looked around expectantly, waiting
for laughs that didn’t come. Mel gave chuckle out of pity. Lou shook her head,
turned away from him and massaged her feet. Only Ben laughed properly.
“Tough audience,” said Charlie.
“Guess I can delete drumming and stand-up comedy from my CV.”
“Cross science off too,” said Lou.
“Sorry?”
“What good have you actually done us?
I mean, you’ve been holed up in your lab doing God knows what, and there’s feck
all to show for it.”
“Now now,” I said.
We hadn’t been in the best of moods
since we had left camp, but the last hour had been particularly tough. We had
reached a grouping of hills fifty feet tall. It was possible to walk around
them but it would have added hours to the journey, so we decided to tackle them
head on. My calves burned after scaling the hills. Looking at the rest of the
group, it seemed like they all felt it too. The going was particular rough on
Charlie, who had to stop in what seemed like every few minutes to catch his breath.
The path ran straight once we cleared
the hills. There was a single-lane road close to us which led to the nearby
towns of Larkton and Grey Fume. Larkton had been a town of thirty-thousand
people. It was famous for being the home of Larkton cheese, a mild cheddar that
was shipped across the country. Grey Fume, before the outbreak, was a grim
place where few people settled. It had a population that was overwhelmingly
old, with most of the adults nearing retirement age and their children leaving
for the cities as soon as they got the chance.
As we got nearer to the towns we
began to see more infected. Ragged groups of dead bodies walking across the
fields and roads, loose flesh hanging off their frail figures. We avoided them
for the most part and only killed those who got too close, but as sightings of
them grew, I became uneasy.
We came to a stone bridge. It hung
over a brook that trickled for miles through the countryside, eventually
joining a river. I stopped and leaned against the grey stone. Charlie, seeing
his chance, sat on the wall and took deep breaths. Lou shifted her rucksack on
her back. She held a quarter of our provisions in her bag, and I wondered what
else she had packed. Had she brought her book with her? Walking in the
countryside used to be a calming experience, but I wouldn’t have blamed Lou if
she needed her anxiety book.
I took a bottle of water out of my
jacket pocket. The liquid had a pale yellow tint to it, but we had boiled all
of our water, so I knew it was safe to drink.
“This is going to be trouble. We’re
getting closer to Grey Fume than I’d like, and the infected are making me
twitchy.”
“We could take a diversion. Cut a
route a few miles wide and skip the towns,” said Mel. She had been quiet so
far, only talking to share words of encouragement with Ben. The boy seemed to
prefer Charlie’s company, and tried to hoist himself up onto the bridge so that
he could sit next to the scientist.
Reggie was on the opposite side of
the bridge, a few feet away, with his back to us. He stared into the distance.
When he turned round, his face was neutral, as though all the emotion had been
sucked out of him.
“I went to Grey Fume once. We were
trying to buy out a solicitor practice. The owner was a snake, I’ll always
remember him. He promised us one day that we could look over his books. Then
the next day, the filing room had mysteriously flooded and all their papers
were ruined.”
“What was your job?” I said.
“It was boring,” said Reggie. “Take a
guess.”
I looked at his face. So long after
the outbreak, it was impossible to tell what people used to do. In the old days,
people worked their jobs so long that they became them. Postman had broad
shoulders and muscled calves. Office workers had slouched shoulders and weary
looks. You
were
your job. Now, I couldn’t tell what people were.
“I bet you were in insurance,” I
said.
“He looks more like an accountant,”
said Lou.
Reggie gave a smile, but there was no
humour in it.
“Thanks, guys. The most boring jobs ever.
That’s how you see me, is it?”
“Well it’s kind of hard to tell,” I
said. “Hell, you could have been a boxer for all I know.”
Reggie coughed. “I worked for a
merger company. We were vultures, really. We looked for businesses that were on
the edge of failing. You know, those little family run businesses where they
spend decades just staying afloat. Well, we looked for the ones who were
falling apart, and we stepped in and bought them for a fraction of what they
were worth. We used to take decades of good, honest work and pay them pennies
for it.”
“We all did that we had to do, back
then,” I said.
Gregor, at the edge of the group,
stretched his muscled arms into the air. He wore his guitar on his back, and
the instrument swung as he moved. The rest of us had packed useful provisions;
food, weapons, water. Gregor had deemed his guitar as the only necessary item.
“Not much has changed then, lad, has
it?” he said. “You did what you had to do then, and you do it now. Only now it
actually matters. Everything you do make a difference, because it’s keeping you
breathing. Just knowing that should make you feel alive. Me, I’ve never felt
better.”
I stood away from the wall.
“We need a plan. I’m not comfortable
with this route. I know we’re heading to the helicopter, but the line we’re
taking is bringing us nearer to the towns than I want to be.”
“Well, there is one way,” said
Charlie.
“Time for clinical science 101,” said
Lou.
Charlie grinned. “At least you got my
field right this time. But this has nothing to do with it. This is geography.
Or cartography. Whatever you like to call it. I know a route we can take.”
“Go on,” I said.
“How’s your history?” said Charlie.
Lou shook her head. “I thought Kyle
was the only boring teacher around here. You’re even worse.”
“Let the lad speak,” said Gregor.
Charlie gave him a stern look. “I’m
not a lad.”
“It’s just an expression.”
“Anyway,” said Charlie. “There’s a
diversion that avoids the towns. About a mile away from here, the allies dug a
tunnel system under the fields. You see, this entire area was a hotspot for
Scottish World War Two commanders, and one of their control centres was based
nearby. They dug tunnels into the fields so that the Axis couldn’t spot them in
air raids. It will let us skip the towns, but it’s not exactly safe.”
“As long as nobody is claustrophobic,
we’ll be fine,” said Mel.
Lou looked at the ground, but didn’t
say anything. She clenched her jaw.
“It’s not phobias that are the
problem,” said Charlie. “The tunnels won’t have been used in decades, and there
damn sure haven’t been maintenance crews keeping them ticking. The whole place
will be fragile.”
I put my hand to my chin and felt the
coarse hair on my face. I hadn’t shaved in days.
“I’m against it. At least the
infected are a known factor. Underground is another thing entirely. We don’t
know what the hell’s down there. I’ll stick with the danger I know rather than
the one I can’t see.”
Gregor shifted the weight of the
guitar on his back. One of the strings gave a squeak as it rubbed against his
shirt.
”Scared of the unknown, Kyle?”
I shook my head.
“Not scared of it. Just sick of it.”
I looked at the rest of the group. “What do you guys think?”
“I’ll take dark tunnels over the
undead,” said Mel.
“I guess I could cope with it,” said
Reggie.
Lou shook her head. “I vote no.”
Mel sighed. “But why? If it keeps us
away from the town, surely it’s better?”
“Nope,” said Lou.
“Care to say why?”
“I just don’t think that it’s the
best idea.”
“Brilliant explanation,” said Mel.
“Leave the lass alone,” said Gregor.
Lou’s face looked softer. She seemed
less sure of herself than she usually was. Something about the way she looked
disconcerted me, and I felt like we should back off. Besides, I happened to
agree with her this time. The tunnels were just too much of a risk.
Mel had her hands on her hips. She
carried a bag that was bigger than Lou’s, and almost as big as mine. It seemed
too heavy for her but if she felt that way, then she didn’t show it.
“I’m sorry Lou, but it’s four against
two.”
Lou squinted. “Me and Kyle are
against it. You, Charlie and Reggie voted for the tunnels. That’s three versus
two by my count.”
“Gregor is with me,” said Mel.
“Aren’t you?”
The butcher nodded.
“So,” continued Mel, “If you want to
persuade us not to go that way, you better give a good reason.”
Lou threw her bag to the floor. She
gritted her teeth.
“I just hate tight spaces, okay? I
think something’s going to happen and I’ll be trapped, or something. Now leave
the hell off.”
It was difficult to see her like
this. There was something unsettling about seeing strong people looking
vulnerable. It reminded me of when I was a kid. My dad had always been the
strong, silent type. His word was final, and he always spoke it with
conviction. One night I couldn’t sleep, and I had crept downstairs to see my
mum and dad speaking in hushed voices in the kitchen. Mum was sat in a chair
with rings around her eyes, and dad leaned over with his palms flat against the
table.