Chloe Zombie Apocalypse series (Book 3): Chloe (A New World) (15 page)

C
hloë held
Kesha under her arm and ran as quickly as she could.

Night had fallen. The rain that started yesterday was still lashing down. Part of her didn’t mind it—it made it easier to escape, easier to get away with Kesha. It made her less visible.

But she was looking forward to the feeling of not being drenched anymore. And she was going to do everything she could to make sure that was a feeling she was going to experience.

She squinted into the darkness. She had a torch in her rucksack. She’d taken both the torch and the rucksack from one of the Range Rovers she’d attacked. Really, it’d been too easy. She’d just had to burst the front tyres with the sharpened bark. And then when they’d stopped to take a look, she’d sneaked inside the car. Picked each of them off, one by one. She’d used their own guns to shoot at them. She’d bitten. She’d fought.

And then she’d carried on driving that first Range Rover. Pulled over, just long enough to freak out the islanders in Kyle and Kesha’s car.

By the time Kyle finally clambered out of his Range Rover, she was already sneaking inside it, holding up Kesha, stabbing everyone in her sight.

She didn’t like that she’d had to hold up Kesha. Use her as a shield.

But fuck. That’s the kind of thing she had to do to survive. It’s the kind of thing she used to do to survive. And as fucked up as she used to be, she was a lot better off that way than the way she’d become.

Soft. Weak.

No. She wasn’t soft. She wasn’t weak.

She was fucking crazy, she knew that.

But crazy was saving her and Kesha’s lives.

She didn’t stop running. She’d stuck a sharp piece of bark in the back of Kyle. Watched him fall down by the side of the Range Rover, writhing away. And she’d enjoyed it. She’d enjoyed watching him collapse like that. All these months cooped up on the island and she’d forgotten what she’d tried to bury all this time.

She enjoyed making people who hurt her suffer.

She enjoyed watching them writhe around in agony.

And she was going to enjoy it a whole lot more now that she was free.

She ran until she reached the road. She was out of breath. Her throat was dry and sore—about the only dry part left in her body. She could smell sourness coming from Kesha’s nappy, and she knew at that point that she should probably grow up and change it.

“It’s okay,” Chloë said, checking either side to see she was clear. She didn’t have any spare nappies with her, but she could at least turn the old one round. Make it so Kesha wasn’t lying around in her own filth.

It was the new world. The rules of the old world didn’t apply here anymore.

She crouched down. Lowered Kesha into the dirt. Holding her breath, she undid her nappy. Pulled it away, squinting just like she had when she’d washed Kesha, doing everything she could not to look at the source of the smell beneath her.

But when Chloë went to turn Kesha’s nappy around, she noticed something. Something she’d never noticed before.

There was something on the top of her right leg. Right at the top, in the crease of the nappy. She must’ve missed it last time. And she only just saw it this time, shining in the moonlight.

She rubbed her fingers across it. Tried to understand it. What it was. When it’d happened.

But she didn’t have to wonder for long.

The reality dawned on her.

“You… you were bitten,” Chloë said.

She stared down at the wound on Kesha’s leg. It’d healed over. It wasn’t that big as it was. But there were four little scars. Four definite little red scars right there on her thigh.

She knew what they were. She didn’t have to ask anyone to know what they were. And as she looked at them, Chloë started to understand. She started to understand why Margery had been so desperate for Chloë to take Kesha away to safety. She started to understand why even Dad wanted her to flee to safety.

She understood why the islanders wanted Kesha so much.

Kesha was bitten, but she was still alive. She hadn’t turned.

Chloë cleared her throat. Wiped her wet hair out of her eyes. Something still didn’t make sense. There were immune people. There’d been some people bitten who hadn’t turned in the past.

What made Kesha so different to those?

There were still things she didn’t understand.

“Come on,” Chloë said. She washed Kesha a little, then she strapped her nappy back on—which wasn’t as bad as it smelled. She lifted Kesha, then she headed further towards the road. She knew she was nowhere near the MLZ now she’d had to make the journey back. She knew she’d run way more than she thought was possible in the last few days.

She needed a car. She needed a bike.

She needed something.

It was another hour until she saw a car.

It was parked up. Parked right by the side of the woods. Chloë slowed down. Crouched. She wrapped her fingers around the gun she’d taken from the islanders. If she saw anyone, she’d put a bullet through them. Didn’t care what their intentions were, didn’t care who they were, she’d finish them.

She didn’t want to be harsh. Didn’t want to be cruel.

But sometimes you had to be to protect the ones you loved.

When Chloë didn’t see anyone around the car for a good ten minutes, she climbed up the hill. She could feel herself getting closer to safety. Getting closer to a way out. She just had to pray for the best with this car.

She looked around. Still quiet. And then she put Kesha down. Doing so always pained her. Always made her worry that something bad was going to happen.

She held her breath. Went to open the car door. Rain bounced off the roof.

“Please open. Please open. Please…”

The car door clicked open.

Excitement filled Chloë’s body. She got into the car. She could hardly believe her luck when she saw the keys were still in the engine.

She adjusted her footing. Got a grip on the steering wheel. She didn’t know how to drive. She was way too young. But when there were no other cars on the road or people on the pavements to worry about, it was easy.

She grabbed Kesha. Started up the engine the way Dad and Mum always used to, and how she’d started the Range Rover earlier.

The engine coughed.

And then it stopped.

Chloë clenched her jaw.

She turned the key again. Closed her eyes together. Hoped it’d start. Prayed it’d start.

The engine coughed… and then it started up.

“Yes!” She punched the air. This was it. She was getting to the MLZ. She was getting there, and she was saving Kesha. She could get to Riley or to Jordanna or to Tamara or James or whoever—as long as they knew the truth.

And if they didn’t seem like the right people to take Kesha to, then Chloë would fight her way across the country until she did find the right person.

She looked at Kesha in the passenger seat. Smiled. “We’re getting you safe now.”

She put her foot down on the accelerator.

A light flashed.

A sound emitted from somewhere above.

And then the car cut out.

Chloë frowned. She tried to start the car again, but it just wasn’t working. The light that’d flashed looked like a petrol tank. It looked like…

Shit. No petrol. No petrol.

She sat there for a few moments, maybe longer. Sat there and her mind just wandered to what she had to do. She could rest here. She was annoyed that there was no petrol, but there was nothing she could do about it.

She had to rest, and then she had to keep moving.

She couldn’t give up.

It was only a few seconds later that Chloë heard the groans.

She lifted her head. Looked in the rear-view mirror.

Her stomach sank.

A mass of monsters. So many that they filled the road behind.

They weren’t exactly running, but they were walking very fast.

Walking towards her.

C
hloë stayed sat
in the car as the monsters approached.

It was completely dark. But it didn’t have to be light for her to see them coming. The rain had stopped peppering the roof of the car; the first time it’d stopped for hell of a long time. Kesha cried in Chloë’s arms. Wailed, which didn’t help with the whole keeping a low profile thing.

Chloë could see the monsters coming and she knew she didn’t have long left.

She had to make a decision. Fast.

She reached over for the car door. Started to clamber out. But then she stopped. There were a lot of monsters, but maybe she could just stay in here and wait ’til they passed. She was exhausted as it was. The last thing she wanted was to have to run away from a massive group of monsters while she was at it. Just added more pressure to everything.

So she reached for the handle of the car door. Pulled it shut, gently. She clicked the door into place. It didn’t shut properly, but she didn’t want to slam it and attract them closer to her position.

By her side, Kesha kept on crying.

Chloë crawled over onto the back seat. She crouched down with Kesha right between the back seats and the back of the passenger seat.

“Ssh,” she said. “Please, baby. Please ssh.”

Kesha didn’t stop crying. The redness of her face. The tears pouring down it. Poor baby looked like she was struggling.

Chloë thought about putting her hand over Kesha’s mouth and stopping the wailing just like she had the other day. But the thought of it disgusted her. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t do anything that might put Kesha in danger.

She knew then that she’d made a bond with Kesha. That she was her friend. She was her companion.

And she was going to be by her side no matter what, whether she lived or died.

“Please,” Chloë said, stroking the back of Kesha’s head as the monsters got closer. “Sssh. That’s right. Sssh.” She started to sing a nursery rhyme to her. Started to rock her from side to side, just like Mum used to rock her. And the more she did it, the less aware Chloë became of her surroundings. Of the monsters just metres from the car. Then just inches away. Then…

She heard the nails of a monster scratch against the back door. And then she felt the weight inside the car shift as the crowd of monsters gathered around. She kept on whispering to Kesha. Kept on telling her everything was going to be okay, kept on rocking her, stroking her head.

On the seat behind her, there was a gun. One she’d taken from the islanders.

She’d use it if she had to.

One way or another, she’d use it.

She kept as still as possible as the dark shadows of the monsters moved past the car. She could hear them from all directions now, and she knew she was surrounded. She knew that even if she wanted to get out of this car, she wouldn’t be able to.

There was no escape.

She was trapped.

She’d made her choice and she had to stick to it, whether she liked it or not.

The seconds dragged on. The monsters were mostly silent. That was a good sign. As long as they were silent, it meant they hadn’t seen her. Although sometimes they worked differently than that. Sometimes they used their quietness to pretend they hadn’t seen you.

They were getting stronger. They were getting better.

But for now, everything seemed okay.

Until Kesha started wailing.

Chloë’s stomach sank. She heard a few heavier footsteps outside. She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say.

When she heard the first groan to her right, she knew she was already too late.

A hand smashed through the window on the driver’s side of the car. And then another worked its way in, and another, all of them battling to get inside this car.

The window at the other side of the car smashed, too. The window at the back. And as Chloë shuffled up to the other door, she saw the dead eyes of the monsters peering down at her, peering down at Kesha.

They’d seen her.

They knew she was here.

She grabbed the gun but dropped it with her shaky hand. It landed close to the invading hands of the monsters. Shit. She couldn’t reach it.

She was screwed.

She was…

No.

She wasn’t screwed.

She was a fighter. She was going to fight.

She inched closer to the gun. Hands waved inside the car, grabbed anything they could. The hands were invading every window now. Every one, slicing their skin and flesh in the process.

Every one except the back window.

Chloë’s heart pounded. Kesha kept on wailing.

“It’s okay,” Chloë said. “Don’t you worry. I’m getting you out of here. We’re both getting out of here.”

She waited a few seconds.

Counted down from three.

Then she lunged for the gun.

She grabbed it. Pulled it back.

But before she could move away, she felt a hand on her back. Felt a force stick its fingers right into her skin, start to pull her towards it.

She shook. She shook and kicked out. She even turned around and bit at the monster.

Bit right down into its skin, the coppery taste filling her mouth.

She felt the buzzing in her head again. But this time, it didn’t scare her. Even though that same buzzing once made her put a rope around her neck and hang herself, it didn’t scare her.

Because that buzzing kept her alive.

That buzzing saved her life, time after time.

And now it was going to save Kesha’s.

The monster’s rotting flesh, bitter and awful tasting, fell away from its arm. Chloë backed away. Spat the flesh out. She held on to the gun in her hand, tucked Kesha under her arm.

And then she climbed into the back seat. Climbed over towards the back window.

She had to act fast. She couldn’t stick around.

“Sorry for this,” Chloë said.

She pointed the gun at the rear window.

Then, she fired.

She put two shots through the glass. It shattered all over, right onto the road. Cold air swooped into the car, the smell of decay and groans of the monsters following not long after.

She climbed through the window. Climbed out. And as much as she wanted to run in the direction the mass of monsters were gathered, she knew she couldn’t. Not now. That way was blocked.

She had to find another way.

She ran back. Ran back the way she’d come from. Ran down the empty road. She heard the creaking of the car, the breaking of glass, ease.

And then she heard the footsteps start to head in her direction.

She ran on her blisters. Ran through the pain in her knees. Because she had to. She had to do this. She had to get Kesha to the MLZ. And if she couldn’t do that, she at least had to get her to safety.

And she was going to do that. No matter what, she was going to get her there.

She looked over her shoulder. Couldn’t see much in the darkness, but she knew the monsters were onto her. And they wouldn’t give up. Not if she—

She felt something in front of her.

Smacked right into it.

Fell down onto the road.

When she turned round, Chloë’s thoughts froze.

The thing standing over her was tall. It was nigh-on invisible in the darkness.

But Chloë knew what it was.

From that clicking noise coming from its mouth, from the oiliness of its skin, she knew exactly what it was.

An Orion.