Solstice: A Novel of the Zombie Apocalypse (22 page)

Tomas firmly knocked on the front door of the country house. Nothing. He pounded again, glancing back at the car, knowing Christopher and Melanie needed a place to get some real, uninterrupted sleep. He needed it, as well. Plus, the Cooper was dead on empty. They had nowhere else to go and no other options.

“I know someone’s here,” he shouted. “Please, answer the door.”

After a moment, he heard footfalls against a wood floor, then the faint grinding of metal against metal as the latch turned. The door opened just enough to reveal a gleaming, curious eye. Quickly, a blinding flash of light replaced that friendly blue eye.

“Jesus!” Tomas shouted, shielding his face. “Why does everyone keep doing that?”

“You’re not a monster, are you?” a man asked in a deep voice, his Irish accent almost too thick to understand.

“Do I look like a monster?” Tomas asked.

“Don’t know. The monsters look a lot like us, lately.”

“I’m no monster.”

“What about a pillager? Been some of them about, too.”

“No. I’m not a pillager, marauder, or a Rager.”

The man laughed. “I knew that. Just wanted to scare you a little. We don’t get many visitors. Are you armed?”

Tomas held up the pistol. “Yes. Are you?”

“You’d better believe it, so any funny moves will get your arse full of lead.”

“No funny moves. I have a child with me. And a woman. We just need to rest for a while.”

The door opened, and a broad, ruddy-faced man thrust out his hand. “Finn Tierney, that’s me.”

Tomas pumped the big, sandpaper hand and couldn’t help smiling. Still, he felt more like crying almost, he was so relieved to find a safe place to stop. He motioned to Melanie, and in a moment, they’d piled into the big, cozy den.

***

The woman, Colleen, warmed to them immediately, especially Christopher. She insisted they allow her to read him a bedtime story, and Tomas didn’t dare say no. The woman seemed to blossom more every moment she was with the boy. She took Christopher in her arms and carried him upstairs, Melanie tagging along, talking excitedly. It had been a long time since Melanie had another woman to talk with, as Leila hardly counted. Colleen had set out bath towels and heated a kettle of water over the wood burning stove for them to sponge away the grime of days in the car. Finn kissed her on the cheek and told her he would be along shortly, then set about making himself and Tomas a drink.

“Anyway, what the hell are you doing out here?” Finn asked. He handed Tomas a tumbler half-filled with Scotch. Their bellies were filled with cornbread, strips of re-heated bacon, and scrambled eggs. It was hardly a gourmet meal, but Tomas declared it the best he’d ever eaten.

“We’re heading for Southampton.” Tomas described the Zombie Radio X broadcast.

Finn nodded and said he’d heard it, as well. “Not much we can do about it. Colleen’s not in any condition to travel.”

Tomas had noticed straight away Colleen was in midst of a health crisis. She had the gaunt, shell-shocked looked he associated with the terminally ill. She’d lost her hair, and a beige knit toboggan covered her skull. Tomas’s heart went out to her. He guessed her and Finn’s ages to be in their mid-fifties; he hoped he made it that long.

“We were living in the city with our daughter and her husband while Colleen was in chemo,” Finn went on. “I don’t know what the hell happened. Our Anne just started going insane. She tore out Philip’s throat before we could do anything about it. Jesus, we didn’t know what to do. I tried to stop her, but there was no saving him. I got Colleen out of there before she could get at us.”

Finn took a long drink of his scotch. “I hit my only daughter with a chair. It broke my heart to do it, but I had to—” He stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. He obviously wasn’t a man to allow anyone to see him cry. He took a deep, shaking breath. “I hit her, and she kept coming.”

He drained his glass and looked at Tomas. “So. What’s your story? The woman. Your wife?”

“No, no. Nothing like that,” Tomas said. “She’s my best friend’s daughter. I took her in when he and his wife were killed some years ago.”

Finn nodded. “I see. What happened to your wife?”

“Wife? How’d you—”

“The ring.”

Tomas glanced at his left hand. “I forgot I even had it.” He laughed bitterly. “We were getting divorced. She made it to France with us, but her state of mind was going to hell. She flipped out and jumped from the car just before we reached the tunnel.” It felt strange talking about Leila in the past tense. Again, he wondered what had become of her.

“The tunnel?” Finn asked, sounding shocked. “You drove the Eurotunnel? You must have some set of balls on you.”

Tomas shrugged. “Not many other options.”

“I suppose not. What was it like?”

“Dark. Very, very dark.”

Finn laughed softly. “Not much different than here.”

Tomas asked him about Colleen’s treatment.

Finn shook his head. “She needs pain meds, but I’m not sure what to do. I need to get to town, but I’m afraid to leave her alone. What if something happened to me? Worse, what if those things discovered the house?”

Tomas sat quietly a moment, watching the fire. The alcohol was hitting him hard, and his brain buzzed pleasantly. “You and I can go together. Melanie knows how to handle a gun. She and Colleen will be okay for a short while.” The notion of leaving Christopher and Melanie behind, even for an hour, troubled him, but it was obvious Colleen needed the medication. Plus, they needed gasoline for the Cooper. “We’ll go together, the sooner the better.”

Finn flashed him a relieved smile and refilled their drinks. “It’s a plan, then.”

***

Melanie watched Colleen bustle around the small bedroom. The woman was small-boned and emaciated from some illness, but she had a pretty, elfin face.

“Why are you wearing that toboggan, ma’am?” Christopher asked, snuggling deep into the covers of the double bed.

“Christopher—” Melanie started.

“No worries, dear. He’s a curious boy. That’s a good thing.” Colleen pulled the heavy quilt up to his chin. “I’ve been ill, Christopher. My hair fell out.”

“Sick? Like a cold?” Christopher asked. Then, he frowned. “I have a cold. Is my hair going to come out? Am I gonna be bald?”

Melanie sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed his hair. “No. It’s not going to happen from a cold. Don’t fret so.”

Colleen asked whether Melanie was staying in the room with Tomas.

She wanted to say yes, but only shook her head. “N-no. We’re not… together.”

Colleen studied her for a moment, and then nodded. “I see.” She patted Melanie’s leg and smiled knowingly. “Be patient.”

January 6-10

Chapter 33

London, England

Stu dreamed of teeth—big, square, bloody teeth snapping at his throat. He jumped, attempting to flee.

He felt a hand on his chest. “Stu, you’re having another nightmare.”

He opened his eyes and stared up at Tana’s pretty, concerned face. He sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose. A headache pounded his brain, and he could hear his own pulse throbbing in his ears. He’d drunk a bottle of wine to get to sleep after pulling George’s and Josh’s bodies outside to the lower end of the parking area. In his heart, he hated the notion of just leaving the body of his student out in the frigid darkness for the animals and the Ragers to get at, to violate, to devour. And poor, kind-hearted George. If it hadn’t been for George, Stu and his kids would have all been ripped apart.. The George who resided inside his memory had become the owner of those gnashing, bloody teeth he dreamed of nearly every time he fell asleep.

“Sorry,” he muttered, climbing from the tent. He tried to decide whether he wanted to find a bottle of water or another bottle of wine. Either way, he would be using it to wash down a couple of aspirin. He opted for the alcohol and headed for the warehouse in search of a fresh bottle of Chardonnay.

He flipped on the fluorescents overhead and then shuffled back to the crates of wine, the only alcohol left in the store. He’d discovered a Swiss Army pocketknife from George’s trouser pocket just before leaving him outside for a Rager buffet. He pulled it out of his pocket to use on the bottle.

“Stu, what the hell are you doing?” Tana asked, moving up behind him.

“I’m opening this bottle,” he said, cutting the foil with shaking hands.

Tana touched his arm. “Look at yourself, would you?”

He pulled away. “Don’t. I just want to forget for a little longer.”

“You still have people here who are relying on you.” Tana stepped around to face him, her dark eyes boring into his. He dropped his head, ashamed, and didn’t put up a fight when she took the bottle from him. “Those girls out there are still alive, Stu. So am I. And Davis. We need you. You’re our protector.”

“I’m not doing a very good job. Besides, I don’t think I want the job.” His tone was harsher than he intended.

“Like it or not, the job is yours.” She kissed him and pressed her forehead to his. “But I’m here to help. You’re not in this alone.”

Ashley burst through the stockroom doors. “Mr. McCarthy! Hurry. There are people outside. Real, living people, not monsters.”

The three of them hurried to the front entrance of the store, Stu stopping at his tent to grab his gun. A double-decker bus sat just outside the door, idling loudly.

A middle-aged man pounded on the glass doors through the roll-down security gates. “We’re alive. Can we come inside?” he called with a heavy British accent quite different from Tana’s. “I’ve a dozen hungry people here. Handicapped children. Two nurses.”

“Handicapped?” Stu asked through the closed door. “Handicapped how?”

“Retarded or something. Not right in the head.”

Stu looked out at the bus, at the pale faces inside, like small, smeary ghosts. “Hurry up,” he said. He unlocked the entrance and lifted the metal gate halfway. The sudden blast of cold air was sobering, and he pulled in a deep breath. The fresh air he’d hoped to take in was tainted by the smell of the exhaust pouring from the bus. It seemed acrid and foreign. He had nearly forgotten the stink of pollution.

Quickly, he and Tana moved outside and helped four children from the bus. Howls echoed through the city, and flames brightened the sky to the west. Entire city blocks were burning.

The man, who introduced himself simply as “Ken from Kent,” nodded toward the flaming horizon. “That’s where we came from.”

Once everyone was safely inside the supermarket, Stu yanked the rolling gate back down, locked it, then locked the entrance doors. The kids were a pitiful bunch—runny noses, emaciated, dirty, their eyes wide with horror and hunger. Ken and the nurses looked little better.

“So,” Ken said, fishing a cigarette from his jacket pocket. He lit it and took a long drag. “Who’s in charge here?”

Stu glanced at Tana and stepped forward. “I am.”

***

Once their new visitors were settled in, Stu found himself just sitting on a lawn chair, watching the children. He had never been one to stare at handicapped people, especially children, and doing so made him feel like a bastard. Still, he couldn’t help it.

Davis played quietly with a couple of the boys, passing a large rubber ball. The other two boys were larger and older, but developmentally were about half Davis’s age. Still, they laughed gleefully. Normally, it would’ve filled Stu’s heart with happiness to see these kids having such a good time. But at that moment, he found himself frightened, sick to his stomach. What would happen if the Ragers managed to get in the market? It would be a slaughterhouse.

Tana came over and sat down beside him. She had two steaming mugs and passed him one. Stu took a cautious sip, scorching the tip of his tongue. He winced and took another small taste, the bitter, watery coffee a welcome departure from the wine.

“What are you thinking?” Tana asked.

“I’m thinking that this sucks. I’m thinking that I’m still leaving in seven days. I can’t stay around to help protect these children. I have my own child to worry about. Maybe she’s already dead or maybe she’s been infected, but I have to try to find out.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Go ahead and tell me how selfish I am.”

Tana shook her head. “You’re not selfish, Stu. But can you honestly live with yourself, leaving them just like that?”

He shrugged. “It won’t be ‘just like that.’ We’ll leave a couple of those guns. We’ll make sure the generator is fueled.” He wasn’t sure why he felt he needed to justify wanting to return to his daughter. “They have food and supplies.” He kissed her. “I’ll leave with a clear conscience, if that’s what you want to know. I don’t want to be some kind of hero, Tana. I just want to get home.”

Chapter 34

Folkestone, Kent, UK

Finn picked up an oversized battery-operated lantern and took Tomas on a tour of the farm, which still had living livestock. Inside the barn were two handsome quarter horses—a friendly mare and a standoffish gelding. Bo trotted along, eyeing the big animals curiously but cautiously. The mare, whose name was Chloe, nuzzled Tomas’s arm. Rusty, the male, snorted at the air and pawed at the hay with his hoof, too shy to step forward.

“That one is stubborn. I’m the only one he trusts, for some reason,” Finn said. There were also several laying hens and roosters strutting around a closed-off stall. A half-dozen small goats darted here and there, bleating for attention.