The Dead Walk The Earth (Book 4) (46 page)

“We’re in the shit, Stan. Big time. The bus is stuck and won’t start, and we’re surrounded,” Charlie replied as he glanced back at Tina. He then turned to watch the juddering door and the rattling frames of the seats piled up against it. “We’re pretty much fucked, mate.”

“Can they get in?”

Charlie eyed the barricade for a moment. It was moving slightly with every assault, but the doors were holding. There was too much of an obstruction for the dead to be able to barge their way through in the immediate future.

“Doubtful, but we can’t get out either.”

There was a long pause.

“Roger that. Wait out.”

24

Apart from the faint sigh of the light, icy wind, the area had fallen especially silent. The noise of the dead and the quiet sobs of the living had been replaced by a sinister calm that had descended upon the road like a smothering blanket. For hours the people inside the bus had remained still and hidden from sight while not daring to move. Stranded and with their rear wheels stuck fast in the mud, they waited for a miracle while the dead surrounded them in their thousands and refused to give up until they had managed to rip their way through the doors and into the living people inside.

Stan, having pushed ahead and rendezvoused with the advanced group, had tried everything they could to relieve the trapped survivors. Tirelessly and at great risk to their own safety they had used every trick that they could think of. Approaching the scene and blasting the horns had done very little other than attract more of the infected into the area. Flashing their lights and shooting as many as they could until their ammunition supplies were virtually exhausted had accomplished even less. Clusters of the infected were lured away by the activity of Stan and his team, but the vast majority were just too preoccupied with the immobile bus, the sight and sound of the living being so close that they refused to be distracted from their goal. As more of the infected arrived, the further away the two SUVs needed to retreat at risk of them too being surrounded and swamped by the army of rotting and diseased corpses.

As the hours passed, the survivors witnessed the lights of the SUVs becoming dimmer and the sound of their engines growing fainter as they gradually withdrew from the area. From the woods surrounding them they could hear the cracks and scrapes as the walking dead charged through the trees, crashing through the branches and underbrush, being attracted to the vicinity by all the firing, blasting horns, and the wailing of their comrades in death.

Slowly but surely the people inside the jolting and swaying vehicle began to lose hope as they watched the crowds grow and their chances of survival dwindle. For now, the doors were holding, but they would not last forever. Eventually the determination of the infected assaults would prevail and the barricades would collapse. It had happened countless times over the past twelve years. No matter how strong they were, the defences always broke before the infected did. No one acknowledged the fact, but everyone had witnessed it happen at some point in time, and each of them knew that now would be no different.

There was very little food or water and almost no ammunition aboard the bus. They were cold, terrified, and utterly exhausted. One by one the living fell silent, choosing to hunker down and wait for the end while remaining below the window line, and not wanting to see the monsters beyond that were staring back at them with lustful gazes and snapping teeth. It was only a matter of time now, and time was a luxury that only the dead could afford in the new world order.

It had grown very quiet inside the bus. At first the whimpers and cries were endless, but after some time, and when people began to realise that the dead were not going to come pouring inside any time soon, they settled and slipped into their own worlds. Outside the dead kept their vigil on the bus, pressed up against its sides and undeterred. Their assaults had subsided substantially with only the occasional thump and scrape, accompanied by a rasping moan coming from the outside now. They waited in silence while the survivors inside kept their heads low, doing their best to stay out of sight and avoiding exposing themselves and riling up the crowd again. 

“We’ve gone static a few Ks further up,”
Stan’s faint and almost inaudible voice informed them, sounding as though he was a million miles away.
“Just sit tight, Charlie. We’re doing everything we can to get you out of there.”

Charlie nodded and let the handset slip from his fingers and into his lap. He was sitting in the centre aisle, his head drooping towards his chest as the feelings of despair and fatigue took their hold on him. He wrapped his arms across his chest and tucked his cold hands beneath his armpits in an attempt to stop them from becoming useless through numbness.

Tina was sitting beside him, idly and repeatedly running her thumb along the cold metal top-slide of the pistol that she was holding in her hand. She was staring into her lap, but her eyes were unfocussed and saw nothing. Instead she saw old memories as they flitted through her mind. Memories of events that had occurred and people she had known before and after the rising of the dead. Things had not always been bleak and desperate since the collapse of civilisation. There had been times that life had seemed sweeter than ever over the past twelve years. Though she had to admit that those moments were rare and only fleeting. She could see the faces of the people they had lost along the way staring back at her as though waiting for her to join them in her rightful place at their sides. She silently acknowledged that their wait would soon come to an end.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered with a shrug. “At least we tried.”

Charlie lazily raised his head and stared back at her, seeing only her dark silhouette but able to picture the expression of resignation upon her face.

“Don’t talk like that,” he grumbled, sounding like a grandfather chastising a child over a defeatist attitude. “Stan will find us a way out.”

She looked back at him and huffed, shaking her head dismissively before turning her attention back to the pistol in her lap and continuing to caress it. She had counted her rounds a number of times and had silently promised that she would save the last for herself before either the dead or the cold got to her.

“You don’t know the man. I do,” Charlie continued in a voice that was tinged with an air of confidence and certainty. “That old bastard out there doesn’t know the meaning of the word failure. If there’s a way out of this mess, Stan and his boys will find it, one way or another.”

“Tell that to Ben,” she sighed.

“Who?”

“He shot Ben in the face back at the complex,” she continued in a weary and hushed voice. “He’d been hit by a stray round in the chest, and Stan… he just shot him without a second thought. He didn’t give him a chance.”

Charlie adjusted his position and grunted. His buttocks had become numb from the cold and hard floor. He pictured Stan and his actions, and if he were completely honest with himself, he was actually astounded that there had not been more incidents of that manner during their retreat. He knew Stan, and when he saw the amount of wounded and infirm that they dragged with them through the sewers, he was a little more than surprised that Stan had not shot the entire group, saving only those who he really needed back on the ship. He checked his thinking, realising that he was being a little too harsh in his judgement of the man. He was cold and ruthless, but he was not a complete monster.

“Look,” he began in an attempt to prevent her from tumbling into hopelessness. “Stan rarely takes chances, and he is always a hundred steps ahead of anyone else. He probably knew that your guy would be dead within minutes, so he did him a mercy. Dragging him out of there could’ve cost more lives. Stan is my friend… Nobby’s too. He needs you, along with that Paul fellow back there. He won’t leave us here to die.”

She nodded, hoping that the old man was speaking sense and not just suffering with over-optimistic thinking, or the early stages of hypothermia.

“Where did they come from? Why didn’t the advance group warn us?”

“Bad comms? They only have those shitty little, short range radios in the SUVs,” Charlie shrugged. “Or maybe there was no sign of them when Taff came through this stretch. They were obviously following that herd of animals we saw. Probably been stalking them for years and never managing to catch up with them. If they were coming through the trees, I doubt anyone in the lead vehicle would’ve been able to see them.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

She looked back at the mass of people who were sitting crowded together in the rear of the vehicle. It was dark, and all she could see were large, black clumps where people had squeezed themselves together. It was hard to believe that so many of them had managed to cram themselves into such a small space. With all the windows smashed out, the temperature inside the vehicle was no higher than it was outside, but at least they could share their body heat. The children were gathered into the centre with the adults surrounding them for comfort and warmth. The remaining wounded were at the very rear, and two more of them had since died, needing to be dealt with and separated from the rest. She doubted that they would ever get the chance to give them decent burials now.

The black mass of bodies shifted a little and a few low groans of protest emitted from deep within as individuals were disturbed by the person beside them adjusting their position and allowing the cold to creep in and drag them from their fitful slumber. From out of the dark a figure came hobbling towards Tina and Charlie, moving in a crouch and mindful of where it placed its feet.

“What’s happening out there?” Frank asked, groping his way forward through the gloom to where Tina was sitting.

“Not much. They’ve gone pretty quiet, but they’re still there. How’s Tommy?”

“Bad,” Frank replied with regret. “I think all the activity earlier on has sapped the last of his reserves and accelerated the sickness. He’s not doing well at all. Paul is with him, but he’s asking for you.”

“You’d better go take a look,” Charlie advised her. “At least be there for him when the time comes.”

She nodded and began to crawl towards the rear, squirming her way through the hunched bodies around her as they lay staring at the blackness or drifting in and out of consciousness.

“What’s happening with that ‘Stan’ bloke?” Frank asked. “Any news?”

“He’s working on it.”

Frank nodded and let out a grunt. He reached behind him and snapped his fingers, summoning his dog from the darkness. She skulked towards him, a faint whine coming from her as she pushed her head into his chest and climbed across his lap. She curled herself into a tight ball, nestled against her master, and savouring his warmth and closeness.

“She seems like a good ‘un,” Charlie smiled as he reached out and patted Jeff’s head.

She looked up and rubbed her snout against his fingers before angling her head so that he could scratch behind her ears.

“She’s the best there is,” Frank replied with confidence and then lowering his head to give her a reassuring and loving kiss. She pushed her head against his beard as her wagging tail smacked against his thigh. “The best dog in the world, aren’t you, Jeff?”

“Only one of the dogs from the base made it from what I was told. I think it’s with Bull in the lead vehicle. Maybe they’ll become friends?”

“Maybe. She’s saved my life more times than I can count. She’s my best friend. We had it good in the city, but like always it couldn’t last forever. Just a shame we got stuck in this fucking mess. Wankers.”

“Who?”

“Them out there. They’re all wankers. The world’s full of them, even before they all started eating each other. Didn’t you know that?”

Charlie let out a quiet laugh and nodded his head vigorously. He understood where Frank was coming from and had felt very much the same way on occasion. He had witnessed the world change dramatically in the years leading up to the plague, and he had never liked what he saw. Society seemed determined to weaken and eventually destroy itself. ‘Wankers’, he believed, was a good word to describe them, dead or alive. He stretched forward and ruffled the fair around Jeff’s neck, relishing her warmth.

“What time is it, anyway?” Frank asked with interest.

“Why? You got somewhere you need to be?”

Charlie pulled back the cuff of his jacket and pressed in the button on the side of his watch. It glowed green, faintly lighting his features from beneath and making him look like a low budget attempt at an alien in a cheap science-fiction movie.

“It’s just coming up to…”

He stopped and stared at his watch, lifting it closer to his eyes and having to press the button again as the light faded. He gasped and then looked up at Frank before turning towards the window behind him.

“What?”

Charlie jumped up from the floor without any consideration for the noise he was making as his feet scuffed and thudded. He flung the blanket from his shoulders, and ignoring the ache and creak of his cold bones and the stabbing pain he felt shooting up along his spine, he scrambled across the seats, exposing himself to any eyes that were outside as he thrust his head and shoulders through the empty frame of the window.

“What are you doing, you lunatic? Get down,” Frank snarled after him, reaching out and grasping him by his boots in an attempt to pull him back.

The sudden activity and noise was already gaining the attention of some of the survivors inside. They twisted and sat up, gasping with horror and uttering their demands for Charlie to get away from the window. More and more people were taking note, and a sense of panic was quickly beginning to spread throughout.

“Get the fuck down,” Frank demanded again as he began climbing over the seats and gripped Charlie by the straps of his assault vest.

Charlie shrugged him off, refusing to be moved away from the window and leaning further out as though attempting to jump from the vehicle. Frank could do nothing but look on in shock as the man had clearly gone insane or lost all powers of reason and logic due to the cold. He looked around, hoping that someone was coming to help. No one moved, but remained seated and staring at the dark figure that was hanging out through the window, grunting and wriggling.