Plagued (17 page)

Annie, Mitch and Emily backed away from the door
as another explosion rocked the room. Screams filled the air from outside.

“The infected are in!” Mark screamed from the
now-glassless window. “Jesus Christ, there are loads of them!”

Sarah ran to the window next to Mark. “Oh my God.”

Two of the spare gas tanks had exploded outside
and had a chain reaction with the others that were nearby. Flames filled the
air and people ran wildly around the camp, silhouetted by the fire-light. Men
were laid on the ground screaming in sheer agony as the infected hovered over
them, clawing and biting at their faces. Some of the women tried to make a
break for it and climb the fences but were soon pulled back down and mauled
viciously by more infected, who were laughing and yelling indistinguishable
words as they toyed with their victims.

Natalie was one of those trying to escape. She ran
towards the caravan where Sarah was, screaming for help. Sarah ran to the door,
trying to get it open as an infected woman ran out of the flames and clawed at Natalie’s
face with blood soaked hands.

Natalie tried to tear her fingers away but the
infected over-powered her and pulled her on the ground. She grabbed Natalie’s
legs and dragged her backwards, kicking and screaming for dear life, into the
blaze. Sarah screamed her name hysterically and Mark put his hands around her
shoulders to pull her away from the door.

“Mark!” Emily squealed.

Mark spun around and stopped as he saw the gun
pointing at his face. Duke chuckled, holding the gun in shaky hands. His eyes
were wide and his manic laughter made him look psychotic.

“Drop the fucking gun and slide it towards the bed,”
Duke growled.

Mark did as he was told, the gun glided across the
floor and rested under the bed, out of sight.

“You shouldn’t have interrupted me, Mark, not when
I was on a date. It was really fucking
stupid. Getting the girl is the
last thing you’ll never do.” He laughed hysterically, his left eye twitching.

Duke’s finger closed on the trigger as Emily shot
in front of them, trying to push the gun out of Mark’s face. The bullet hit the
wall besides Mark’s head. Sarah screamed. Duke grabbed Emily by the throat and
threw her violently at the wall, growling wildly. She hit it face on, making an
‘ugh’ sound as she fell to the floor.

Seeing this, Mitch—who had been watching with
amusement—had a flash of bravery. He swiftly pulled the knife from a distracted
Annie’s grasp and positioned himself behind her with the knife at her throat.
He stayed that way, laughing maniacally as he watched Duke lay into Emily on
the floor.

 “Stupid little bitch!” Duke said, as he kicked
her viciously. Blood poured from her mouth.

Sarah ran behind Duke, trying to catch him unaware
but Mitch saw her intention.

“Behind you!” Mitch shrieked.

Duke turned and pointed his gun in Sarah’s face.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Don’t hurt her,” Sarah pleaded as she backed
towards Mitch.

“When are you going to learn?” Duke said, with a
cruel smile. He pointed the gun towards Emily’s head. “I do whatever I want.
I’m The Duke.”

The world slowed for Mark as he lunged for the gun
in Duke’s hands, knowing what was going to happen. It was too late. Duke put
four quick bullets into Emily’s head. The sound reverberated around the room,
leaving a high pitch whine in their ears. Mark knocked the gun out of Duke’s
hand with one swift motion and with his other hand, punched him hard in the
face. Blood sprayed from Duke’s mouth as he fell down next to Emily’s lifeless
body. He didn’t move.

Mark looked at Mitch, who still had the knife on
Annie’s throat. Seeing his boss laid on the floor, unconscious quickly made his
bravery disappear. He dropped the knife and backed to the far wall, his hands
in the air.

Sarah opened her mouth to scream, but no words
would come out. She stood there in a trance as blood poured from Emily’s head
onto the floor. Sarah’s head began to shake. “No, no, no.” She ran to her
friend’s body and dropped down next to her, grabbing her warm hand and pulling
it. “Emily, please wake up. Come on, we’ve got to go!”

“Sarah, she’s—” Mark couldn’t say it.

Emily’s face was peaceful. If it wasn’t for the
thick, glutinous blood flowing out of the wounds and turning her blonde hair
red, she could have passed for being sound asleep. The dark pool around her
grew large, covering Sarah’s knees as she rocked back and forth, holding her friend’s
arm and whimpering.

Mark watched in misery, not sure what he should be
doing. He placed his hand on Sarah’s shoulder and she jumped a little at the
touch.

“She saved you,” she whispered, stroking her
friend’s sticky hair.

“He’s gettin’ back up, Mark!” Annie yelled.

Mark turned around just in time to see Duke
lunging at him with a knife in his hand. Mark grabbed the knife hand and pushed
it to the side as Duke came at him, his force knocking them both backwards and
into the caravan door. They hit it hard and it burst open, throwing them both
down the steps and on to the dirt outside.

Dirt and dust flew into the air as they struggled.
Duke climbed on top of Mark, stabbing the knife frantically down at him. Mark grabbed
his knife hand and fought to hold it up, but Duke’s strength overpowered him.
Seeing his own weakness, he curled his free hand into a fist and aimed it at
Duke’s face. It connected with Duke’s mouth and the impact threw Duke to the
side, landing in the dirt. Mark dragged himself to his feet.

Screams and yells bellowed all around them as the
infected wreaked havoc on the camp-site. People ran, shrieking in fear as they
were chased down by the hordes. So far, none had noticed the newcomers, but it
was only a matter of time.

“Close the door!” Mark screamed at Annie, who
stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Her face was a picture of sheer
helplessness.

“Do it!” Mark screamed.

Annie grabbed the door and slammed it shut. Her
face appeared at the window, next to Mitch, who was watching with his mouth
wide open, not wanting to leave the safety of the caravan—even for his friend.

Duke had taken advantage of the moment and climbed
to his feet. He swung a low punch at Mark and it hit him forcefully in the
stomach, knocking him backwards. Duke found his knife on the ground and picked
it up. He marched over to Mark—who was knelt on the ground, grasping his
stomach—and sliced the knife at him. Mark looked up just in time—he fell
backwards onto his rear and raised his legs up as the knife came cutting across
them, slicing into the skin below his knees. Trying to ignore the searing heat
in his legs, Mark kicked out at Duke, booting him square in the chest and
sending him sprawling onto the ground.

Someone screamed close by them and Mark turned to
see a man on the ground in the foetal position being bludgeoned to death by two
infected women holding rocks. They laughed triumphantly every time blood
spurted up from his body.

Duke roared in frustration—completely insane
now—as he rushed towards Mark, the bloodlust in his eyes not far different from
the infected.  Hearing the cry, Mark dodged to the side sending Duke running
into the side of the caravan. Duke roared again, spittle flying from his mouth,
and he spun back around. His eyes twitched uncontrollably.

Mark knees grew weak as blood poured down his legs
and his exhaustion making it difficult to catch his breath. He knelt on the
floor, unable to hold himself up on his wounded legs.

“I’m going to cut your fucking throat!” Duke raged.

Duke rushed towards Mark and thrust his bloodied
knife wildly at him, not caring where it hit. Mark tried to dodge left again
but his legs were too weak to move and the knife caught the side of his
stomach. He screamed as it sliced through his skin. A large patch of blood
poured through his T-shirt and he tried to stop the bleeding with his hand.

Since Annie closed the door, Sarah had been
frantically searching for the shotgun and found it under the bed. She ran to
the door but Mitch moved in front of it, brandishing Duke’s pistol. He aimed it
at her with shaking hands.

“I don’t think so,” he said, his voice quivering.

Sarah held up the shotgun to Mitch and they stood
there for a few moments in a stand-off. “Put the gun down,” she said, trying to
sound confident, but the weight of the gun was already pulling her hands down.

“Not likely,” Mitch said, and let out a laugh. “I
knew you’d be fucking trouble the moment he brought you here. But not anymore.”
He laughed loudly, courage building. “Today is Mitch’s day to shine.” He
squeezed the trigger and the gun clicked. He looked at Sarah in surprise and
pulled the trigger again and again, hearing nothing but more clicks.

Sarah’s shock wore off and she grinned at Mitch,
who dropped his gun on the floor and held his hands up in the air in defeat.

“Please, don’t!” he begged, bursting into tears.
“Please!”

“Fuck you.” With shaky hands Sarah squeezed the
trigger, preparing herself for the recoil. Instead of the loud shot she was
expecting, the gun made a small ‘click’. She pulled the trigger a few more
times, but the gun just clicked again. Mitch cried in relief.

“Are you fucking serious?!” she shouted through
gritted teeth. “Annie, how do you work this thing?!”

Outside, Duke whooped in triumph and walked
confidently towards Mark, who was knelt on the ground, bleeding through his
fingers.

“Aw, it's a shame Jacky-boy isn’t here to see this,”
he said and tittered like a child. He gripped his knife handle tightly, his
knuckles turning white. He waved it through the air madly as he spoke.

He towered over Mark and his eyes darkened. A
cruel smile crept across his lips as he watched his victim’s blood drip onto
the ground. He gripped his knife and jabbed it towards Mark’s throat. Mark
flinched as he waited for the cold steel to reach his neck but instead, an
ear-splitting boom filled the air.

Mark opened his eyes to see Duke's face frozen in
surprise in front of him. They stared at each other for a few seconds—unsure of
what happened—until Duke slumped to the ground. In the middle of his back was a
large, scattered wound that mangled the flesh beneath it. Mark looked up
towards the caravan and saw Sarah with shotgun in hand, a look of shock on her
face. She ran to him, closely followed by Annie.

As they attended to Mark’s wounds, Mitch climbed
out of the caravan and walked slowly to Duke's body. He stared at his oldest
friend without emotion. A snarl came to his lips and he kicked Duke’s lifeless
body with his foot. “You always got me into trouble, Nick, and you never had my
back.”

Sarah looked at the wound on Mark's stomach. “Are
you okay?”

“I'm fine, it's not as deep as it looks,” he
groaned, getting to his feet. “I can’t believe you just shot someone.”

“I know, right? Took me a while to figure out how
to use it, but we got there in the end,” Sarah said, proudly.

“You’re telling
me
,” Mark said and kissed
her hard on the lips. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mean to rush you two but we’ve got serious fuckin’
problems,” Annie said from behind them.

The camp was littered with the dead and the
infected were having a really good time with their bodies. Laughs and screams
filled the night as they toyed with them—pulling on legs and arms like a Tug O’
War game.

“We've got to go now,” Mark said, watching the
chaos.

Sarah looked at Mitch; only just realising he was
still with them. Mitch backed away from her.

“Where is the Land Rover?” she yelled.

He pointed to a caravan close to the entrance to
the yard. “We — we parked it behind there,” he whispered, in a squeaky, tremulous
voice.

Sarah ran to Duke's lifeless body and searched his
jean pockets for keys—they were still undone from earlier when he’d pulled them
on in a hurry. Her skin crawled in revulsion remembering his sweaty weight on
top of her. As she pulled them from his side pocket, someone screamed on the
other side of camp. Infected were running out of the blazing caravans across
from them, their naked skin bubbling and burning. They were coming straight for
her.

“Go!” she screamed. “They've seen us!”

Sarah ran back to Mark's side and they heaved him
towards the caravan where the car was parked. Annie held the shotgun reloaded
it with a few shells in her pocket.

They stumbled over the dead bodies sprawled on the
ground and burning debris from the fire. Another gas canister exploded behind
them and some of the nearby infected let out blood-curdling screams of pain.

Mitch—lagging behind—saw that although some of
their pursuers had been distracted by the new explosion, three of them were
still in pursuit. “Help me!” Mitch shrieked madly, still looking behind him.

They reached the caravan quickly, avoiding the
flames which were intensifying by the second. Nearly all the caravans were
ablaze now and the air was hot and filled with dark smoke, making it difficult
to breath.  They found the Land Rover, exactly where Mitch had said it was, and
Sarah unlocked the door with trembling hands. They frantically pushed Mark into
the backseat and Sarah jumped in next to him leaving Annie in front.