Chloe Zombie Apocalypse series (Book 2): The Journey (13 page)

“
J
ust you wait
til you get to my age, love. You’ll know exactly how I feel with my bad back and my dodgy chest!”

Chloë finished pouring some water into Heather Campbell’s mouth. She was a nice old lady. Always wore a bright pink nighty. She had rough skin and smelled a bit like old biscuits, but was always friendly and smiley. Even if her teeth were black, Chloë always liked it when she smiled at her.

Chloë put the water cup onto Heather’s bedside table. She climbed up from her bed. Stepped back. “That everything?”

Heather coughed. She coughed but smiled all the time. “You’re a good kid. You know that, don’t you? These three days you’ve been ‘ere have been an absolute godsend.”

Chloë felt her cheeks heating up. Felt her smile growing. “Thanks. Nice… nice to spend time with you too.”

She turned away. Started walking out of the room.

“About time you found yourself a lovely young man to knock around with, isn’t it?”

Chloë frowned. “I’m only—”

“Young love. The best sort of love.” Heather made a little “hmmph” noise, like she was recalling some fond memory from her past. “Anyway. You be buggering off. Sure you’ve got plenty to be…” She started coughing again. A really nasty, chesty cough. A few of the old people were coughing that way lately. Melissa said it was some kind of flu. That there wasn’t much they could do about it without proper treatment.

Just keep the old people comfortable. Keep them hydrated. Ride it out.

“I’ll check on you again later,” Chloë said.

“You’re a love. A real love.”

Chloë smiled.

She lowered her head. Stepped out of the door.

She liked it when Heather was kind to her.

When everyone here was kind to her.

She walked down the corridor of the Snowdonia Care Home. Past the ajar doors of the rooms.

“Afternoon, Chlo!” An old man called Barry waved at her.

“Afternoon, Barry. Your chest any better?”

“Much better, chick.” He winked at her, like he always did. “The arm any better?”

He chuckled. Chuckled as Chloë looked down at her vacant right arm. He always liked to make fun of her one arm. But it was in good spirits. It didn’t annoy Chloë.

It was friendly.

It was nice.

And that summed up Chloë’s three days at the Snowdonia Care Home looking after the old people. Nice. They were good to her. She enjoyed looking after them. She’d always liked older people. Always got on better with them than people her own age.

She thought about what Heather said. About finding a “lovely young man.” To be honest, she’d never really thought about it. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. She’d never felt much for other people. The people who’d given her the tingles in the past were all girls.

She knew what Elizabeth used to say to her, just to wind her up. “Lesbo!”

Was she a lesbo?

Did it matter if she was a lesbo?

She walked into the canteen area and saw Alice sitting on her own by the window.

She walked up to her. Sat beside her.

“Hey, Chlo. You okay?”

Chloë nodded. Looked out. Such a good view of the hills, the valleys, the trees. Especially nice on a sunny day. “Yeah. More people got the sniffles though.”

“Feeling that way myself,” Alice said. She wiped her sweaty head with her cream sleeve. “Couldn’t do me a favour and check on the water supply, could you? Not running all that well. Need to keep an eye on the filter seeing as we’re getting it from the streams.”

“Sure.”

Chloë stood. Started walking towards the corridor.

“Chloë, wait.”

Chloë turned around. Saw Alice looking right at her. A red nose from all her sniffing and sneezing. Smiling.

“I… I guess I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving this place a chance. For settling in. For—for moving on. From Jackson. From what happened.”

Jackson.

Chloë pushed his name from her head. She shouldn’t think of him. Thinking of him was bad. Thinking of him made her want to punish him. To hunt him down. To—

“This place is good,” Chloë said. “Glad we’re here.”

“I’m proud of you, y’know. And so is your dad.”

Chloë couldn’t look Alice in her eyes after those words.

She just stared down at the floor and let her cheeks heat up once more.

“After everything we’ve all been through, and just how maturely you’ve handled things, I think it’s sometimes easy to forget. You’re just a kid still. You could easily have slipped over the edge. But you didn’t. You stayed tough. You stayed strong. I’m proud of you. We all are.”

Alice’s speech was cut short by another sneeze.

“Thank you,” Chloë said.

She rushed away while Alice got caught in a sneezing fit.

Made her way towards the water system.

A
s Chloë descended
the steps towards the water system, she thought about what Alice said.

She was proud of her. The whole group was proud of her. Even after all the death and loss she’d caused, they were just happy they’d found somewhere.

And it wasn’t freedom. It wasn’t Pwllheli. But it was somewhere.

All along, that’s all everyone had wanted.

Another community.

A safe place.

Trustworthy people.

She climbed further down the steps, towards the basement area. It was always really cold down here. Always so quiet, too. Her footsteps echoed against the stone steps. The sound of flowing water the only noise she could hear.

She sometimes came down here just to be alone.

Just to close her eyes and think about Jackson.

Think about all the pain she wanted to cause him for trying to kill her. For tearing her group apart.

For pressing on to Pwllheli.

She needed to be alone when she had those thoughts.

She reached for the door to the room of the water pump. She was coping. Coping with the bad feelings he sent through her body.

She could cope.

She could stay here forever.

Help the old people.

Find more young people to help her when she got old.

She could do this.

Live here.

She could…

The first thing Chloë noticed was the smell.

It was strong. So strong it made her want to throw up. And yet it was familiar. She hadn’t smelled it in a while but she knew exactly what it was.

Dead.

She instinctively reached for her knife and realised it wasn’t there.

Held her breath.

Stepped into the room of the water pump.

There were loads of metal pipes in here. Chloë had no idea how they worked, what they did. But they were usually noisy. Something to do with the water.

Today, they were silent.

There was just one noise.

A clattering noise over by the main filter.

Chloë walked over to it. Walked slowly. Felt the cold getting stronger. Something didn’t feel right. She felt like eyes were watching her between the pipes. Like people were following her.

No. She was being silly. Being stupid. She was all alone. She was fine.

She walked over to the pipe the stream water flowed in through.

And then she saw it.

The body.

The greying skin.

The brown blood seeping into the water.

She froze. Her heart picked up. The smell. A body was in the water. A body was stuck in the system. It was…

And then she heard a groan.

She didn’t place it at first. Didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand what it was, where it was coming from.

Not until she saw the eyes of the body in the water open.

It reached out for her. The scaly skin slipped away from its body, revealing discoloured muscles underneath.

Its intestines were tangled up in the filter at the other end of the pipe.

A monster was in the water.

A monster was inside.

A monster was…

Chloë heard a scream.

She thought at first it was the monster. One of the screaming monsters. The ones who used their screams to lure people towards them.

But the scream didn’t come from the monster.

It came from upstairs.

From the care home.

Chloë spun around. Rushed up the steps. Climbed them two at a time, almost tripping up.

“There’s—there’s a monster in the system!” she shouted. Her head spun. Her skin tingled. “The water! Don’t drink the water! Don’t…”

She thought about the sickness the old people were getting as she hurtled out of the basement, ran towards the canteen.

An illness. An illness from the dead body.

An illness from the…

She heard shuffling behind her.

She turned around.

Saw someone standing there, facing the opposite direction.

It was Heather. Chloë knew it was Heather because she always wore that bright pink nighty.

But she was on her feet.

That was strange.

Heather never walked.

She never got up.

“Heather?” Chloë asked.

She walked towards Heather. Walked slowly. Heather stayed completely still. Silence filled the rest of the care home. Down the stairs, Chloë could still hear the monster groaning away.

“Heather, what’re you…”

Heather turned around.

Her eyes were glazed.

The smile was gone from her face.

She looked at Chloë in a different way.

A way Chloë had been looked at so many times since the world went bad.

A way everyone had.

And then Heather let out a groan.

Staggered towards Chloë.

Ancient hips clicking with every step.

Chloë’s body tensed. She backed away. “The water!” she screamed. “Don’t drink the wat—”

She didn’t finish her sentence.

Barry hurtled out of his room.

Landed on top of her.

Blood dribbled down his recently shaven chin.

His teeth were wedged with flesh.

He wasn’t winking anymore.

C
hloë punched back
at Barry as he pressed her further into the tiles.

But he wasn’t a frail old man anymore.

Barry’s snarls filled Chloë’s ears. She tried to struggle free of him, but even though he was light, he held Chloë down with force. Blood dripped down onto Chloë’s face. She could smell rustiness on his breath. Metal.

He’d bitten someone.

He’d drank the water, turned and bitten someone.

And now he was going to bite her.

Chloë shouted out. No words in particular, just a desperate scream to bring attention her way. At the other end of the corridor, she saw Heather stepping closer. Heather. Poor Heather. She’d always been so smiley. Always so nice to Chloë.

Now she was dead.

She was a monster.

She’d turned.

And Chloë had poured the last glass of water down into her mouth.

Chloë shouted out again. Felt Barry’s bony fingers dig into her chest. He stuck his nails right in. Tried to scratch at Chloë’s skin. Tear it apart.

Heather kept on walking.

Nobody was coming for her.

Nobody was…

She saw Barry’s mouth opening.

Then she remembered something.

Barry’s teeth. His false teeth. He sometimes stuck them out in a silly way whenever Chloë went to see him.

False teeth. Strong. Could still do some damage.

But false.

She held her breath.

Moved her hand towards his mouth.

He snapped at her. Almost took off the tops of her fingers.

She pulled away. Waited for him to get closer. She had to time it right. She had to be careful. She had to…

Another door slammed open.

Angela Burns, another of the Snowdonia Care Home patients, tumbled out of her room.

And then out of Barry’s room came Jessica Griffiths. One of the nurses. One of the ones, like Chloë, who looked after the old people.

Her green outfit was covered in blood.

Her skin was pale.

Her teeth were snapping.

Barry moved his mouth in towards Chloë’s neck.

She slipped away.

His face cracked against the hard floor. His teeth snapped against the tiles.

Chloë shuffled away from him. Pushed at his right arm—the one she knew he had trouble with when he was alive.

She felt him pressing down onto her.

Pressing down as the rest of the monsters—people she knew, people she’d cared for—surrounded.

But she kept on pushing back.

Pushing and pushing until…

A crack.

A deafening crack split through the air.

Barry’s arm fell out of its socket.

Lost its grip on Chloë.

Chloë rolled out from underneath him. Soaked herself in blood, which poured out of Jessica’s leg.

She stood up.

Looked back at Barry. At Heather.

People she’d cared for.

People who liked her.

She felt her eyes welling up.

All because of the water. All because of the fucking water.

Then she heard another door slam open.

Saw Eric, a man with a long grey ponytail, tumble out.

She swallowed a lump in her throat, then ran past the outstretched hands of Jessica and Angela, towards the canteen.

She saw the door swing open right as she reached it. Saw Melissa standing there, frowning.

“What—what happened? What…”

She saw Melissa’s eyes widen. Saw the people behind her. Dean. Dad. Alice. Cassandra. Some of the nurses. A few of the residents, the old and the disabled.

“The water,” Chloë said, her stomach hardening as she suddenly remembered she’d drank the water today. “It—There’s a monster. In the pipeline. In the—”

“Slow down,” Melissa said. Her voice was too calm. Like she was in shock. “What’s… what’s going on down—”

“There’s no time to slow down!” Chloë shouted. “They—they’ve turned. Heather. Barry. They’ve turned and they…” Her throat tightened again. “We need to get out of here. Get the other people out of here.”

“No,” Melissa said.

“No? They’re coming for us. They’re—”

“I won’t leave this place. I won’t leave my people behind.”

Chloë looked at her dad for support. Looked at Alice, Dean, the rest of the people.

They all just stared on, stunned, terrified, like they couldn’t believe what was happening. Like they couldn’t accept it.

At the other side of the door, the old residents continued to stagger towards the group.

More of them tumbled out of their doors.

Diana, a curly-haired woman who barely said a word, popped her head out of her room.

“What’s—”

Heather sunk her teeth into the side of her face, wrestled her to the floor, pulled the muscle from her neck like spaghetti.

Melissa looked on. Tears filled her eyes.

“They… The water. It can’t turn them.”

“It has turned them.”

“They’re just sick.”

“Melissa, they’ve turned. We need to get the others out of here. We need to—”

A crack across Chloë’s face. A stinger on her left cheek.

She saw the tears in Melissa’s eyes.

“My… my people. I can’t let this happen to my people.”

“Then you need to let us go. We need to save the rest of your people. Before it’s too late.”

Heather lurched towards the door.

Melissa looked on, tears in her eyes.

And then she pulled a pistol out of her pocket. A pistol Chloë didn’t even know she carried.

She handed it to Chloë.

“We’ll have to go through.”

“Go through where?”

Melissa pointed at the oncoming monsters. “Through them.”

Chloë looked at the monsters. People she knew. People she liked. People she’d actually trusted.

She felt her eyes stinging. Felt pressure building behind her eyelids.

She lifted the gun.

Pointed it at Heather’s head.

Smiley Heather.

Friendly Heather.

Heather who was so kind. So thoughtful.

She pulled the trigger.

After the first bullet, she heard Melissa wince. Heard the shock amongst the surviving residents. But she kept on firing. Firing at Barry. Firing at Diana. Firing at all of the monsters until they fell to the bloody pool below.

She tried not to think about what it meant. The water. How many others had drunk it? How long had the water been contaminated? They’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

She just fired.

Kept on firing.

Clearing the path.

When the final monster fell—a woman called Paula who always gave her sweets—silence filled the care home.

“Come on,” Chloë said. The smell of blood was strong. The mass of bodies filled the corridor. The walls were covered in blood. “We… we need to leave.”

Chloë led the group out of the care home. She heard the cries. Heard the pain. These people, they were too weak for loss. Too old for loss.

But they had no choice.

No choice but to consider moving on.

Because this place wasn’t safe anymore.

The water was contaminated.

They’d die here.

No. Worse than that. They’d
turn
here.

“What now?” Dad asked.

Chloë turned. Saw Melissa standing in front of the group. Saw how pale her face was. How much she looked like one of
them
. One of the monsters.

Her eyes were dead.

But she was still alive.

Chloë had long ago learned that you didn’t have to be infected to turn into a monster in this world.

And then she blinked. Her throat wobbled. She looked up at Chloë. Smiled. “My gun. Please.”

Chloë looked at the gun. The gun she’d shot all the residents with. The gun she’d put Heather to rest with.

She handed it to Melissa. Everyone else watched in silence. All with the same dead eyes. All with the same pale faces.

“We… we need to think about—”

“I’m so sorry,” Melissa said.

Chloë didn’t have time to process Melissa’s words.

Melissa put the gun to her own head.

Closed her eyes.

Pulled the trigger.

Chloë’s eyes shut instinctively. She felt warm blood splatter across her face. Heard a thud, first of metal, then heavier.

A body.

She didn’t want to ever open her eyes, but she’d heard the gasp. She’d heard the panic. She’d heard the cries.

Melissa’s blood rolled down Chloë’s face.

Melissa’s gun lay beside her body.

Melissa was dead.