Chloe Zombie Apocalypse series (Book 3): Chloe (A New World) (13 page)

C
hloë felt
the thing’s thumbs sink into her eye sockets and she thought her life might finally be coming to an end.

She saw colours in her vision. Flashing lights, blue, red, purple. Beside her, she could hear Kesha crying. And despite the aching in her skull, despite the taste of blood in her throat, all Chloë could think about was Kesha. She had to get to the MLZ. She had to get Kesha to safety. One way or another, she had to help Kesha.

She reached for the thing’s strong arms. But it just kept on pressing down with the force of a man, not of a rotting monster. She thrashed around. Kicked about. She tried to dig her nails into its fleshy head.

But it just kept on pressing down on her skull.

Pressing down so hard that it felt like it might burst.

Her heart raced. She tried to think despite the urgency of the situation. What did she have on her? She had her bow and arrow… no. No, they’d snapped. They were ruined. What else?

She felt the thing’s hands slip away from her skull as she dug her thumb deeper into its head. It snatched at her arm. Knocked it away. And then it went back to pressing down on Chloë’s eyes all over again, like gouging her eyes out was the only thing it cared about.

Chloë kept on pressing when she remembered the knife. The knife! Shit. Of course. How’d she forget the knife?

But to get the knife, she’d have to let go of the thing’s head.

And it was trying to push itself closer and closer to Chloë…

But she had to do what she had to do. She didn’t have much of a choice.

She reached down for the knife. Checked her left pocket.

There was nothing in there.

She felt the weight of the thing’s knuckles in her eye sockets again. And the more it pressed down, the more Chloë heard something coming from it. A clicking sound. A tapping sound.

Like it was speaking a language of its own.

She kept on searching and searching the ground as the life slipped out of her body, as she waited for the big crush.

And then she felt the handle of her knife.

She clasped her shaking fingers around it. Didn’t even think about what she was doing—slashed the thing right on the side of its head.

She heard a gasp. A weird yelp. And then she felt the thing’s hands loosen, its fingers grow weaker, shakier.

Something warm trickled down her arm.

She knew exactly what it was.

She opened her eyes. It stung to look anywhere. The pain in her head was dull, throbbing.

She could just about make out the thing above her. She could see its fleshy head although it wasn’t as inflated anymore—it was seeping blood.

She shuffled out from underneath it. Let its limp body fall to one side. She didn’t want to stick around too long. She remembered what happened the last time she’d fought off one of these things: it just came back.

She crawled away from it. Blood trickled down her arm. She looked around. Looked around, panicked, for Kesha.

For a horrible moment, she thought she’d lost Kesha again.

But then she saw her, lying flat on her belly, just like she’d fallen out of Chloë’s arm.

“Kesha,” Chloë said. She staggered over to her. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She didn’t know why. She didn’t know the emotion she was feeling.

She just knew that she wanted Kesha to be okay.

More than anything else, she just wanted Kesha to be okay.

She picked Kesha up. Held her close. She wasn’t even crying much. She was such a good girl. Such a good kid. Maybe the first kid Chloë had ever even liked.

She heard shuffling behind her. Shuffling in the trees. And she knew she had to get out of these woods. Back to the road. Away from here.

She started to run. Started to climb back out of the trees. Her left leg hurt, as did her right arm. Must’ve been the fall. Knocked the wind out of her. She wasn’t sure she’d be fit to cycle one handed anymore. And she couldn’t exactly use her bow and arrow, now it’d been snapped in two.

It was just her knife and her all over again.

She stepped out of the woods and she saw them.

They were on her left. In the direction she was heading towards.

Six of them.

All with fleshy heads.

Teeth sprouting out of their pale alien-like faces.

All hurtling towards her.

Chloë took a step back. But she knew she couldn’t. She had to move forward. She had to keep going.

But how could she now they were coming her way?

How could she now they were blocking her road to the MLZ?

She heard Kesha start to cry. And unlike before, it didn’t annoy her. It saddened her.

She pulled Kesha closer. Bit her lip as the things got nearer, that horrible clicking sound filling the air.

“It’ll be okay, baby,” Chloë said, whispering into Kesha’s ear. “I’ve got you.”

She felt her eyes closing. Felt herself accepting what was about to happen.

And then she heard the gunfire.

There was a lot of it. All of it just in front of her. Closer than the things, she thought.

And as Chloë opened her eyes, a spark of hope ignited inside. Maybe it was the group. Amy’s group. Maybe they’d followed her. Maybe they were coming to help her.

She remembered right away that Amy’s group didn’t have any guns.

But she knew one group who did.

The things lay on the road. Blood smothered the concrete from their fleshy heads. Their limbs had been destroyed by the gunfire.

Seven, eight, nine people emerged from the right side of the woods. And as they emerged, Chloë knew she had to run.

But when she saw who was with them, all Chloë could do was stand there. All she could do was stare.

“Hello, kiddo,” Kyle said. He was dragging someone along—someone with a bag over their head. He smiled. Led his people closer towards her. “Think it’s the end of the road for these silly games, don’t you?”

He pushed the man in front of him to his knees.

And then he yanked away the bag over his head.

Kyle said a few other things. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe Chloë just imagined it.

All she could focus on was the man right opposite her.

The man right in front of her.

It was her dad.

Her dad was here, with Kyle’s people, gun to his head.

Her dad really was alive.

“
H
ere’s
how this is gonna work, sunshine. And I suggest you listen really closely, ’cause I’m not messing around.”

Chloë stared into her dad’s eyes. Although Kyle was the one speaking to her, it was only Dad she could look at. He looked back at her. He looked thinner since she last saw him, even though it was only a few days ago. She probably looked thinner, too.

His eyes were bruised underneath. He looked like he’d been beaten up. He was handcuffed. Gagged.

But he was alive.

That was the main thing.

Dad was alive.

“We’ve got something you want very much. And you’ve got something we want very much.”

Chloë heard Kyle’s words echoing around her skull. She’d barely recovered from the pain of almost having her eyes pressed in by the thing in the woods and already she was in another bad situation. She could taste the sour blood that’d fallen from the thing’s exploded head on her lips. She could smell sourness in the air.

And still, she held on to Kesha.

Even though her dad was opposite, gun to his head, she held on to Kesha.

“What is there to fight for anymore, hmm?” Kyle asked. The people around him all had their guns raised and pointed at her, too. “What do you have left to fight for other than your daddy here?”

“I—I can’t.”

“What’s that, kid?”

“I… I can’t.”

Kyle looked at her for a few seconds. His eyebrows were shaky. The way he spoke was as if he wasn’t totally sure about what he was doing; he was just doing it because he felt he had to.

“There’s time for fun and games. We all know that. Fun and games are good for everybody. And I can see the fun side to this little chase we’ve had going. I can see why you might think it’s been a good laugh. But trust me, kid. The time for games is over. I’m not messing around. Not anymore.”

She looked at Kesha. Then she looked back into her dad’s eyes. The gun was pressed right into the back of his head. She knew what it meant if she did a runner with Kesha. He’d die. She’d probably die running. And Kesha would be taken away with these people. The same people who hadn’t cared about shooting dead the kids back at Margery’s nursery.

But if she handed Kesha over…

“Time’s ticking.”

She could hand her over. Have her dad back. And she could forget about Kesha. Forget about all of this and go back to life the way it used to be.

But she realised that was a stupid thought. Because life never would be the way it used to be, whether she liked it or not.

“Okay,” Kyle said. “You’ve made your choice—”

“I can’t give her to you,” Chloë said.

The words felt alien as they left her lips. She felt like she was fighting against every single instinct in her body.

Kyle frowned. “What’s that?”

Chloë licked her lips. She knew there was time. Time to change her words. To change what she was going to say. “I… I can’t give her to you.”

“And why can’t you give her to us?”

“Because you’re…”

“Because we’re what?”

Kyle’s smile might’ve been deceiving if Chloë didn’t know what his people were capable of.

He lowered the gun. Stepped around the front of Dad. “Chloë, you know me. And I know you. We’re both from the same place. We’ve both lived on the same island for months now. And it’s a special place. We both know that. Now, there’s always going to be a place for you there if you hand Kesha over. A place for your dad, too. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s your problem,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “You don’t know when to just take someone’s word for something, do you?”

Chloë didn’t respond. She just looked back at Dad. Held on to Kesha. She knew she was doing the right thing. Just like Dad told her. She had to run. She had to get Kesha away.

She didn’t even need Dad to tell her that anymore.

She wanted to run with Kesha all on her own.

“You don’t even realise how good an offer the one I’ve just made you is, do you?”

Chloë sniffed up. Shook her head. “Sorry,” she said.

She started to step back. But then she realised she couldn’t because Dad was there, and as long as he was there, so too was Chloë. Because as much as she cared for Kesha, she loved her dad. He was the only person she had left.

Kyle sighed. Shook his head. “Very well.”

He turned around.

Pulled back his gun.

Cracked its butt against Dad’s head.

Chloë’s stomach dropped. She stopped right there.

Kyle booted Dad in his chest. And then he kicked him again, harder, right between his ribs.

More of the islanders joined in. They stamped on Dad’s hands. Kicked at his legs. At one point, Chloë swore she heard something crack.

But she couldn’t go back.

She had to run.

She had to protect Kesha.

It’s what Dad wanted.

She watched as Kyle lifted his foot over Dad’s head. As he brought it crashing right down. And she felt it. She felt his pain. She felt Dad’s pain and wanted to take it away and feel it herself because even though he was her dad, she was stronger than him. She was stronger than most people.

But she couldn’t take his pain away.

There was only one way to do that, and she couldn’t do it.

Kyle stopped booting Dad in his head. He turned. Looked right at Chloë. She saw something in his eyes then. Something dark, like she’d seen in the eyes of so many men, so many women since the world collapsed. “You’re cold, kid. Standing there, watching me destroy your dad. Selfish. You could do to learn a few manners. But it’s okay. We’ll let it slide. If you hand Kesha over.”

He looked at Chloë again for a few seconds. On the road, Dad gasped for air. Blood trickled out of his mouth. His eyes were almost completely swollen over.

Chloë didn’t say a thing. She didn’t move. As much as she wanted to help Dad, she couldn’t give up Kesha. Because he didn’t want her to. Not after coming so far.

And then Kyle turned around.

Pulled out a knife.

Pressed it to Dad’s neck.

He pushed it into his skin. Pushed it right in so blood spilled onto the road.

Chloë felt her body freeze. She felt her mind stop, right there.

All she could see was her dad’s throat being cut.

All she could see in her mind was her sister dying.

Her mum dying.

And now her dad dying.

She couldn’t let that happen.

She couldn’t lose her dad.

“Stop!”

She felt bad about shouting the second after she’d done it.

But she’d done the only thing she could do.

She walked towards Kyle and the islanders, Kesha in her arm.

She watched as Kyle lowered the knife. As he wiped the blood away from Dad’s neck.

The closer she got, the more shame she felt. She looked at Kesha’s cute little face. Looked at her smiling up at her, like she had done so many times over these last few days.

But she couldn’t feel any attachment to her. She couldn’t bond with her.

Because she wasn’t hers to bond with.

Not when Dad’s life was in danger.

She walked past her dad as he lay there on the floor. For a moment, she swore she saw a look of disappointment in his swollen eyes.

“Good decision. You won’t regret it.”

She looked around at Kyle. Stared up at him. He held out his hands. Held them out, waiting for Chloë to hand Kesha over.

She thought about running. Thought about running for the trees. There was still time. There had to be time.

But no.

There was no time.

There was no other way.

Not anymore.

She held Kesha out.

Kyle took her into his arms.

The second he pulled her close, Kesha reached out for Chloë and wailed.

Kyle smiled. “Good girl. Ready to get moving?”

Chloë didn’t know what Kyle was talking about.

She was about to ask him when she felt someone grab the back of her neck, cover her mouth, and pull a blindfold over her head.

She stood there in the darkness. Stood there, trapped in the darkness.

She was back where she belonged.

Lost.

Alone.

Trapped in the dark.

She heard the buzzing sounds intensifying in her head and she felt her stomach sink.

Then, someone kicked her in the back, and she started walking.