Read Plagued Online

Authors: Nicola Barnett

Tags: #zombies

Plagued (4 page)

 

They nervously walked through the centre, passing
the remains of empty shops and cars that had been abandoned. It really did feel
like the end of the world. Sarah smirked to herself, wondering where all the
graffiti sprayed walls with messages like ‘
the end is nigh’
or
’repent’
were. That’s usually what happened in catastrophic Hollywood movies when the
world ended. There was no crazy man on the corner with a ‘
we r all going to
burn in hell’
board, or escaped zoo animals walking across the road,
enjoying their new territory. Of course, in Hollywood films, America was always
the only country to survive because of their bravery and little England’s
resident posh folk just drank tea or whisky with a stiff upper lip until they
met their demise.

 

 None of that happened either. Apart from vehicle wreckages,
smashed windows and homes left to their fate, the world looked exactly the same
as it had before —minus the inhabitants.

 

Sarah stopped mid-thought and looked closely
through the windows of the nearest clothing store, bothered by something
inside.

 

“What’s wrong?” Mark whispered in front.

 

“I'm just thinking,” she started, turning back to
face him, “where are all the
bodies
?”

 

“You don’t want to know,” he said coldly and
started walking again.

 

Sarah followed. This was the first time she had
ever heard his voice so flat and without feeling. “What do you mean by that?”

 

Mark slowed down so she could walk by his side. He
sighed and turned to face her, looking uncomfortable with her question. “They
were burned to stop the infection spreading, in the early days, anyway. They
piled them up in skips and set fire to them. We could smell it in the basement.”

 

Sarah shuddered and sniffed the air
subconsciously, thinking she could still smell a hint of their burning flesh in
the morning air. “Did it work?”

 

“Who knows? With the infected killing people and
then the gangs coming in and killing people as well, it was hard to tell. It
doesn’t take much for us to start turning on each other.” He saw the sceptical
look on Sarah’s face. “And I’m not exaggerating.”

 

Sarah gasped and said, “Why would people turn on
each other like that?”

 

Mark’s face grew dark and he turned to face her. “Hunger
makes people do strange things, especially ones that are already disturbed.
They don’t take that much pushing.”

 

Sarah scowled in disgust. She felt sick. “Are you
trying to tell me that they
ate
people? Why would they stoop to that
with how many supermarkets we have these days?”

 

Mark shrugged. “Remember that everyone in the area
will have had that same idea. We’ve all seen what you’re supposed to do in
these situations from horror movies. Run and hide in the nearest supermarket,
lock yourself in and wait until you’re rescued. Well, think of that but on a
much larger scale and consider the fact that human beings aren’t very fond of
sharing if they think they won’t eat again for a while,” he said, looking at
her seriously. “It led to the remaining survivors grouping together and taking
it by force.”

 

“Did you....?” Sarah started to say uncomfortably but
then changed her mind.

 

“No. I’ve never been a fan of cannibalism — I’ve
heard it rots the teeth,” Mark joked. “We’re coming up to the end of the road
now, if we turn at the next junction and keep going, we should be able to reach
the outskirts before the sun comes up fully. We have a better chance while it’s
dark.”

 

They walked on in silence until they reached the
road junction. Sarah tried to imagine the chaos in the first days of the
plague. She couldn’t help but think that she’d have been a lot smarter than to
run to the supermarkets in a crisis.
Then again, I did get bit and passed
out as soon as it started.
She rolled her eyes inwardly at herself.
Not
exactly the stuff of legends.

 

Cars were piled up in the middle of the road like
tin cans. Large, brown stains covered most of the asphalt in the road and over
the broken glass on the vehicles’ windscreens. Sarah tried not to think too
much about what it was, though she was pretty sure it wasn’t brown sauce. The
thought disturbed her.

 

Mark and Sarah jumped as a high-pitched scream
came from somewhere in front of them. Mark grabbed her by the arm and pulled
her from the road into the nearest building— a computer repair shop that was
the only building with its windows still intact (well, no one really needs
their laptop fixed in a crisis, do they?) They ran inside, closed the door
quietly, and looked for somewhere to hide. Mark grabbed her arm and pulled her
behind the counter at the far end.

 

“Stay there!” he whispered and ran towards the
back door. It was locked. “Dammit!” he growled and tried to force it open.

 

Another scream came from outside, this time it was
a shrill, like someone in pain —then what sounded like men’s laughter, it was
getting closer.

 

Seeing nowhere else to hide in the small store,
Mark dropped behind the counter next to Sarah and put his arm around her. He
motioned with his hand to his lips to be quiet.

 

Sarah’s heart was beating so hard in her chest
that she felt sure if she didn’t control it, the strangers outside would hear
it. She held her breath and closed her eyes in Mark’s embrace. He smelled
faintly of sweat and his body heat radiated onto her face.

 

The voices were getting louder still —close enough
that they could now hear parts of a conversation between multiple men. A woman’s
sobbing could be heard in the background and then a woman’s scream.

 

“Please stop! Please! No more!”

 

The sound of footsteps outside the shop made Sarah
let out a panicked cry and Mark quickly pulled her into his chest as to muffle
the sound. Mark held his breath now, praying that the strangers hadn’t heard.
He waited for the sound of the creaky door opening.

 

“Just kill the little bitch!” a high-pitched, but
male, voice shouted.

 

The woman screamed and begged hysterically but
stopped abruptly as a large slapping sound radiated through the air. She
whimpered into silence.

 

“Stop upsettin’ the girl, Mitch, she’s gonna
attract the whole fucking lot of ‘em!” a second male voice said. “And we’re not
done with her
just
yet.”

 

Laughter erupted and the woman cried loudly.

 

“Please don’t kill me! I don’t want to die!” the
woman shrieked.

 

“You’re lucky we found you when we did, little
lady. There are some real fucking weirdoes out here these days,” the second man
said and burst into laughter.

 

The one called Mitch laughed at this, ‘whooping’
squeakily like a hyena.

 

“What are we going to do with her, boss? We could
take her back with us — the other guys would love her!” Squeaky Mitch said.

 

“What, so they can take her for themselves and
leave us out to dry again? Fuck that! We’ll do her right here. We can always
take her after. Duke would be pleased with us either way; he’s got enough
bitches of his own!”

 

“No!” the woman screamed and then it sounded like
a struggle was taking place — there was an audible ‘thump’ and a male voice
groaned.

 

“Fucking bitch kicked me in the nuts!” Mitch
shrieked. “I’m going to slit your fucking throat for that!”

 

Footsteps running over glass, then the sound of a
scuffle, the woman screamed frantically and then another loud slap.

 

“Fuck you!” the woman screamed, angrily.

 

“That’s enough of you, little bitch, more fucking trouble
that your pussy’s worth,” the second man said.

 

The woman screamed in pain, it turned slowly into
a gargle and then she fell completely silent. 

 

“Little bitch!” Mitch yelled, doing his hyena
laugh again.

 

“C’mon, let’s take her back now, see what the boss
can do with this meat,” the second man said.

 

“Good, I’m starving! It’s been days since we’ve
seen even a fucking rat and I’m so sick of that tinned crap. Don’t know why we
have to keep up appearances for that prick,” Mitch moaned.

 

“Me too, Mitch, me too. I guess those fucking
infected freaks eat a lot. Though it’s a shame she had to try and bolt, I was gettin’
horny,” the other man said.

 

They laughed and their footsteps gradually faded
away.

 

Sarah and Mark stayed huddled under the counter
for a while longer until, apart from Sarah’s muffled cries, there were no more
sounds from the outside. Mark released his arms from around her and lifted her
chin gently with his fingertips to study her. Her eyes were red with tears and
she shook heavily. Mark’s face was still stony, but he frowned.

 

“It’s okay now,” he whispered. “They’re gone.” He
wiped the tears from her cheeks.

 

“They killed her!” she cried. “That poor woman! We
should have helped her!”

 

Mark rose to his feet and helped Sarah to hers — he
put his arms around her and hugged her tight. “There was nothing we could do,
Sarah. They would have killed us.”

 

It was warm in his arms. She wrapped hers around
his waist and burst into tears again. Mark rubbed her back gently and let her
cry, feeling her body shake beneath his.

 

After a while, her whimpering died down. She let
go of his waist and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket.

 

Outside the shop, it was light and the sun
reflected off of the glass on the floor, twinkling in the sunlight.

 

“I’m sorry,” Sarah said, sniffling. “I just can’t
believe what I just heard. How can people be so cruel?”

 

“I know it’s a shock. Now do you see why I wanted
to come with you? The world’s changed, Sarah,” Mark said and offered her his
hand. “Come on, we can’t stay here.”

 

She looked at his outstretched hand and for a
second a memory of Jack’s warm hands intertwined with hers filled her head so
strongly that she nearly saw it through her eyes. She smiled weakly at Mark as
the memory faded and grabbed his offered hand. They stepped out of the shop
door and carefully walked down the left lane of the junction, their spirits
low.

Chapter 4

 

 

Once they’d turned off the main high streets, it
was a lot quicker to get to the outskirts of town. Smaller stores like little
grocery stores and cafes filled this district and the roads were a little
clearer. They walked past a small sporting goods store and Mark stopped.

 

“You want to see if there’s anything better we can
use as weapons?” he asked.

 

“In a sports store?” Sarah scoffed.

 

“Yeah, there could be baseball bats or cricket
bats in there. I take it you’re not a sporting lady?” he smirked.

 

“The only sport I’ve ever played is swingball.”

 

Mark let out a loud laugh as they walked to the
entrance.

 

 The door was mostly glass and despite having a
few cracks, it had remained intact. He pushed the door in hopes that someone
forgot to lock it. Surprisingly, it gave way and opened.

 

It was dark inside — the position of the shop’s
windows meant that the sun didn’t shine through at this time in the morning. A
strong, odour filled the air and made Sarah gag.

 

“Is that sewage?” Sarah asked, holding her nose.

 

“Probably, it’s damp in here too,” Mark said,
stomping his feet on the blue carpet and watching water splash around. “There must
be a blocked toilet in the back or something.”

 

“Good, I thought it was me,” Sarah said, only half
joking.

 

Mark turned and looked her up and down, a smirk on
his face. He crinkled his nose. Sarah’s mouth dropped open and she slapped him
on the upper arm.

 

“Ow!” he said, feigning injury.

 

“Cheeky sod,” Sarah replied, trying to hide a
smile.

 

On the left wall hung sporting clothes — jogging
bottoms, Lycra vests and swimming gear, a lot of which had fallen off their
racks and now lay in piles on the sodden floor. On the right wall hung nets
filled with footballs of different sizes and colours and a smaller net held
tennis and cricket balls. A sign offered people two for the price of one on all
of them.

 

The counter and cash register were at the back and
it was there that they found what they were looking for. On shelves along the
back wall stood various coloured baseball bats, golf clubs, and cricket bats. On
the other sides of the wall hung rackets of different sizes and smaller shelves
held golf balls, tees and smaller sporting goods.

 

Mark reached for a silvery baseball bat on the
shelf and pulled it down. He whacked it onto his other hand and it made a metallic
‘clink’ sound. “Perfect,” he smiled and handed it to Sarah.

 

She took it from him and dropped her sharpened
piece of wood on the floor. “That’s better. It’s been pretty embarrassing
carrying this thing around.” She smiled triumphantly. “Come on, let’s get out
of here. I don’t think I can stand that smell for much longer.”

 

They walked out of the shop and fresh air hit them
straight away. Sarah breathed deep to get a lungful and sighed as she exhaled. “I
don’t think I’ll ever get that smell out of my nose.”

 

“It has been a long time since you had a bath,”
Mark sneered.

 

“Do you think it’s wise to taunt a woman with a
baseball bat?” she said, tapping the bat against her palm, eyebrow raised.

 

“Good point. Maybe later then,” Mark said, holding
his arms up in defeat.

 

They carried on their journey towards the edge of
town. All was quiet as they passed streets and deserted roads, no sign of
anyone else; infected or not, but they kept a vigilant eye on both sides of the
road. They passed through a small residential area —beautiful little cottages,
well decorated bungalows, winding roads, and cul-de-sacs were all that resided there.
This was definitely the more expensive side of the neighbourhood. The people
that lived here were either in their golden years, retired and settling down,
or they were new families, wanting to keep out of the hustle and bustle of the
city centre.

 

Where there once sat gardens with beautifully kept
lawns, was now overgrown grass covered in litter and expensive cars crashed and
wrecked on the sides of the roads. Windows had been smashed and household
objects thrown onto the curbs. Windows were splattered with the same brown
liquid that Sarah had noticed earlier and again, Sarah didn’t let the thought
of what it was enter her mind.

 

Though she had been trying to seem unaffected by
the incident at the computer shop, inside she was reeling. Her nerves were shot
and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, flashes of the woman’s screams entered her
mind randomly and she felt as though with the slightest trigger, her poorly
maintained demeanour would fragment and she would descend into madness.

 

“Why haven’t we seen any infected people around?” she
asked, trying to concentrate on the world around her.

 

“I don’t know, maybe because there’s no one around
to provide stimulus,” Mark shrugged. “For now, let’s be pleased about it. We’ll
worry about them when we see them.”

 

They headed along the road into a small cul-de-sac
with four red-bricked bungalows around it. The sun was now high in the sky and
the morning’s shadows had been chased away. From here they could see a wooden
gate in-between the last two bungalows, this led to the woodland trail that
they needed to follow all the way to Solitude. Because of the buildings on
either side, all they could see of the trail was a cobblestone path leading
into blackness.

 

As they walked towards the end of the cul-de-sac,
Mark froze on the spot, his eyes fixed on something in front of him.  

 

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, gripping the bat in
her right hand tight.  Her heart began to race.

 

Mark pointed the last bungalow on the left, next
to the trail without saying a word. His crowbar was in his hand and he raised
it up as if it was a baseball bat.

 

Sarah scanned the bungalow and its front lawn
nervously. Nothing moved in the darkness of the windows and there was nothing
on the front lawn to hide behind — it was empty. She began to calm down,
obviously just a false alarm. She turned to face Mark and shrugged but before
Mark could react, a long, drawn out creak came from behind her and she spun
around to face the bungalow.

 

On the right side of the building was a six-foot
high gate that blocked the view of the back garden and — as the two of them
watched in horror — the gate slowly opened, the hinges squeaking loudly as it
did.

 

A shirtless man with shoeless, blood-stained feet
stepped out from behind the gate, his suit pants covered in brown stains and they
stuck to his skin. He looked to be in his mid-thirties but it was hard to tell
with the state of his face and body: his chest and arms were covered in black,
crusty lumps that were smudged with dark brown stains. His face was nearly black
with dirt and his dark hair was spotted with bald patches. The puppet-like way
he moved his arms and legs, and his large, twitching eyes made him look
completely insane — the wide grin displaying red-stained teeth didn’t help
either.  He searched the car park excitedly, like a child looking for a new
toy, and then his eyes locked on to Mark. His eyes lit up and his mouth fell open
as if in happy surprise at his new visitors.

 

“Fuck,” Mark muttered and slowly stepped
backwards, never taking his eyes of him.

 

The infected man began jumping up and down on the
spot, laughing hysterically. Sarah watched the man in shock, trying to stop
herself from running in case it caused the man to leap into action.

 

“We’ve got to go,” Mark whispered. “You see the
cottage behind us? Back towards it but
don’t
run.”

Sarah nodded and with Mark, began slowly back-stepping towards the curb behind them.
The infected man stopped jumping and stared at them, a dramatic look of hurt on
his face. Sarah paused for a second, fooled by the very human emotion on the
man’s face. The man’s down-turned mouth curled upwards into a toothy smile that
didn’t reach his eyes and he blew a kiss to her through bloody hands. Bile rose
in Sarah’s throat and she could take it no longer — she turned around and fled
towards the bungalow across from them.

 

“Sarah!” Mark screamed and ran after her.

 

The infected man saw his opportunity and sprinted
after them with amazing speed, laughing angrily. Sarah, who was not as fast a
runner, ran towards the front gate of the bungalow and fumbled with the latch
with trembling hands. It wouldn’t budge. She looked behind her to see Mark gaining
on her, closely followed by the infected man.

 

“Over the fence!” Mark screamed.

 

“Ov fence! Ov fence!” the infected mocked,
laughing wildly.  

 

Sarah willed herself to climb over the fence but
her legs wouldn’t move, fear had taken over her body and she watched helplessly
as Mark’s pursuer grabbed onto his jacket, trying to pull him to the floor. She
let out a scream.

 

Mark tried to shake the man off him and run
towards Sarah but the grip on his clothing was remarkably strong. He could feel
himself being pulled backwards and knew he’d have to act fast. He spun around
swiftly and the infected man released his grip, a comical look of surprise on
his face — but that didn’t last for long. He burst into manic laughter and
clawed out for Mark’s face but Mark moved to the side and swung his right arm
around, connecting the crowbar to the side of the man’s head. The man fell to
the floor, clutching at the wound on his head and screamed. His legs began
thrashing wildly, clearly in agony as blood poured from his eyes and nose. Mark
hit him again and again in the same spot, crushing the man’s hands as they
cradled his own skull.

 

Sarah turned away from them, listening to the
cracking blows and the infected man’s dying screams as they faded out into
nothing. She stood there in silence, unable to turn around as footsteps
approached her.

 

“Are you okay?” Mark panted, appearing at her
side.

 

Sarah nodded and turned to face Mark, trying to
ignore the bloody heap in the road that she saw in the corner of her eye. “Are
you?”

 

“I’m fine. This is not the first time I’ve had to
do that.” Mark was panting and beads of sweat dripped from his forehead. He
wiped blood from his hands on to his jeans.

 

“He spoke to you,” Sarah said, looking at the mess
dripping off of Mark’s crowbar onto the asphalt.

 

“Yeah, they do that sometimes,” Mark said
distractedly as he looked towards the trail. “Come on, we really should go
now.”

 

Sarah only took a few steps towards the trail when
she heard a noise that sounded like crying coming from the bungalow they were
stood next to.

 

Mark heard the sound and carried on walking.  

 

“Wait!” Sarah whispered, running after him. “There’s
someone in there!”

 

“We can’t get involved, Sarah,” Mark whispered
back. He stopped walking and turned back to her. “It could be one of
them
.”

 

Another little burst of crying came from the bungalow,
it sounded female.

 

“Wouldn’t she be out here already after the
commotion we made, if she was infected? She could be hurt. We have to see if
she’s okay,” Sarah said and walked back towards the bungalow.

 

“It’s not our problem!” Mark growled between
gritted teeth, getting annoyed.

 

Sarah stopped outside the gate and folded her
arms. She looked at him, frowning angrily. “I’m not going anywhere until we see
if she needs help!”

 

Mark kicked the fence in frustration, swearing
under his breath as Sarah turned her back to him and walked up the path.

 

“Sarah!” he whispered loudly and ran to her,
grabbing her arm and spinning her around. She looked at him, her face red and
her eyes were bright and wild.

 

“I’m sorry,” Mark sighed, surprised at the passion
behind her anger, “I know I sound harsh Sarah, but we’re going to get ourselves
killed if we go in there.”

 

“Well, if you hadn’t helped me, I’d probably be
dead now.”

 

Mark fell silent. He looked away, contemplating
what she said. He hadn’t thought of that aspect. “It’s not our problem though,
Sarah. We can’t save everyone.”

 

“I can
try
,” she hissed between closed
teeth. She pushed past him quickly and ran to the front door. Mark yelled after
her but it was too late, she was already inside.

 

 

~

 

 

Sarah had walked in without really thinking, her
anger and frustration at Mark had taken over and she’d done it to prove a point.
How could he be so cold
?

 

The hallway was dark and all the doors were
closed. Broken plant pots and the shards of a mirror lay across the hallway
floor. The wallpaper, that had once been white, was dotted with brown splash
marks.

 

“I think we should leave,” Mark said, following
Sarah closely.

 

“You leave then!” she whispered angrily.

 

Mark muttered something under his breath but Sarah
caught the word ‘stubborn’ and it made her smile triumphantly to herself.
Piss
off,
she thought and mentally gave him the finger. 
 
 

 

The crying seemed to be coming from upstairs.
Sarah paused in her tracks and waited for her reluctant travel companion to
catch up before slowly and quietly walking up the staircase. The beige carpet
cushioned their foot-steps. But every few steps the floorboards retorted with a
creak and every time, Sarah and Mark stopped dead and listened to see if their
noise had been heard. If the woman
had
heard them, she hadn’t stopped
crying. Her soft gentle weeping continued.

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