Solstice: A Novel of the Zombie Apocalypse (31 page)

With his free hand, Stu found the handle of his gun and managed to yank it free of his pocket. As he tried to bring the gun around, the Rager clamped down on the space where his shoulder met his neck. Pain seared through Stu’s left side, and his knees buckled. He pressed the pistol under the Rager’s chin and pulled the trigger.

The Rager’s face vaporized into a bloody mess, but he held fast to Stu until Stu shrugged him off. Stu reached up and touched his torn neck. The rent felt frighteningly deep, and blood pulsed out hard and fast.

Suddenly, the weight of what had just happened hit him. He doubled over, afraid he was going to vomit and felt a hand on his back.

“Stu, baby? Are you okay?”

Tomas pulled Stu upright. “Are you bitten?”

Stu couldn’t answer. He only nodded and pulled open the neck of his coat, exposing the gushing wound.

Tana’s face crumpled, and Stu felt his heart break. “Tana,” he whispered, hot tears streaming.

Tana touched his cheek, the knit of her gloves catching on his whiskers. “Don’t say anything.” She leaned close and kissed him softly, her lips lingering on his cheek, her sweet, hot breath caressing his face. “Close your eyes,” she whispered against his mouth.

Stu heard the deafening explosion of the gun, even as the bullet tore through his brain. As he sank into darkness, he thought he saw Maddy skipping toward him across the snow-covered parking lot.

***

Tana collapsed to the pavement and pressed her face into the snow. She screamed into the ice, tearing at her hair.

Tomas sank to his knees and pulled her to him. She pressed her face into his shoulder.

“Get it together, Tana. You have a son to think of.” She grabbed at his coat, her fists balling the fabric, tugging at him. She wept loudly, and he hated hearing it, hated feeling so damned helpless. He wanted to cry, too. He liked Stu, felt a kinship with him. The night’s events made him again aware of how quickly things could change and unwind.

He hated leaving Stu bleeding out onto the snow, his body there to be violated by the Ragers. They would do as they wanted, leaving nothing but a cage of bones. But Stu was dead. Would it even make a difference?

“Tell him goodbye, Tana. We have to go.” Tomas took Stu’s pistol and shoved it into his jacket. “Do it. You need to get back to Davis.” Perhaps mentioning her son’s name might get her moving. He knew that would be enough to get him to his feet again.

Tana looked up at him, her eyes wide, agonized, and confused. She closed Stu’s staring eyes and then kissed him on his slack, dead lips. Tomas could smell blood on the air, rich as fresh meat. Could the Ragers smell it, too?

“Oh, Stu,” she whispered.

Tomas pulled her to her feet and pressed her gun back into her fist. “Listen to me. They heard the shots, Tana. That means they’re on the move. We have to get back.”

Tana seemed to come to her senses. “What about the buses?”

“It doesn’t matter. They’re coming.”

They stood for a moment, motionless, silent, listening to the night. The faint sound of many footfalls bruising the pavement grew louder.

***

The mood inside the market was as dismal as the darkness outdoors. Tana was despondent, and nothing anyone could say would bring her out of it. Melanie found her deep in the stockroom, hidden behind stacks of boxes and crates of useless items.

“Tana, you’re going to have to come out of this,” Melanie said. She sat down beside the woman, noticing how swollen her eyes were from crying.

Tana said nothing. She only stared ahead, wetting her lips over and over.

“Davis needs you. Those kids out there need you. Stu wouldn’t have wanted—”

“Stu was an ass. That’s why he’s dead. Those people don’t mean anything to me. Only my boy, he’s the only one left.”

“Don’t say that, Tana.” Melanie slipped her arm around Tana. It was a gesture she would’ve never dreamed of doing before, but things were different now. She had never been much of a friend or a comfort; she was too shy, too unsure of her words and actions. But things were winding down. She had never realized how important human companionship was. She had her tiny circle—her mother and father, and then after them, her few friends, all gone, most likely—and Tomas and Christopher. But she missed so many things—faces on the street, laughter of strangers, kindness of others. Nevertheless, missing those things mattered very little. She couldn’t allow foolish compassion to put those she truly loved in peril.

“What else do you want me to say? That I want to keep up this charade? That I want to drag a bunch of retarded kids across the island to some imaginary haven? Come on, Mel.” Tana shrugged away from her embrace.

Melanie asked, “What’s here?”

“Nothing. The same as out there. But at least in here, we can go on for a little longer. Either way, time is almost up.” Tana stood and turned her back on Melanie. “I have no reason to do anything more than keep Davis happy and comfortable until the end. When it comes to that point, I have two bullets. I’ll use them. To hell with the rest of them.”

Melanie left Tana to her despair. Tomas was getting anxious to be on the road. He had put aside a few supplies, unwilling to take more than necessary from the nurses and the kids. No matter how he had tried to reason with them, they weren’t interested in trying to find help.

He refused to speak of Stu, but Melanie could read the hurt in his eyes. He’d formed a quick and common bond with the American. The night before, Tomas had admitted he felt he could place himself in the same situation.

Melanie didn’t mention her conversation with Stu in the stockroom only hours before he’d died. She had made a promise to keep Tana and Davis safe, but she had pissed on that the moment Tana announced she wouldn’t entertain the notion of leaving. So Melanie was a liar, but what did it matter? Stu obviously wasn’t going to show up and give her a tough time. All that mattered were Tomas, Christopher, and herself. Extra baggage would only slow them down, anyway.

February 13

Chapter 48

London, England

Just as they had left Finn and Colleen behind, they left Tana, Davis, the two nurses, and the kids. In the backseat, Christopher wept over leaving the other children, and Tomas had Melanie bring him up to the front seat for a while, even if it wasn’t the safest thing to do. Melanie cuddled Christopher and assured him he would find more children to play with once they reached Sanctuary. She only hoped she wasn’t telling yet another lie.

Deserted London passed by the windows, the buildings mostly dark, although there were a few spots of flickering light here and there behind blinds or drapes. A hospital had been set on fire, and recently by the looks of it. Smoke still rose from the blackened ruins, and the stink of it, like the odor of burnt meat, penetrated the car despite the closed windows.

As Tomas eased the Cooper past the E.R. entrance, Melanie heard him curse softly. She followed his gaze. From the skeletal remains of the awning, four bodies hung, a man and three women still dressed in the medical whites. Or at least what used to be white. Blood darkened their clothes until only snatches of white showed through in places. Their dead, slack faces looked nearly relieved. Melanie’s stomach clenched up, although seeing such things had become too common.

Shadowy figures darted between buildings. Howls erupted from time to time, but she found it difficult to tell if they were from humans or otherwise. Rats scurried away from the headlights, glaring back at them with their white Rager-like eyes. Later, they came across a feral dog tearing at the remains of an old man, but thankfully, Christopher had fallen asleep, still cuddled in Melanie’s lap.

Headlights brightened the streets a few times, prompting Tomas to cut his own lights and pull over into the shadows of the buildings.

It was a relief to be outside of London, finally. Tomas’s mood lifted some, but Melanie could see that his mind was still back with Tana and the children. He was beating himself up for leaving them behind, although it had been the only way. Melanie plugged her iPod into the car dock, and music filled the car. She chose The Clash, and Tomas drummed the beat on the steering wheel.

“Blast from the past,” he said. He reached over and ruffled his sleeping son’s hair, then caressed Melanie’s cheek. Melanie brought his weather-roughened fingers to her lips and kissed them. They drove on, not quite happy, but not completely unhappy. Snow flew at the windshield, the wipers beating back and forth to a time of their own. Tomas kept the needle around forty, not daring to move much faster. The snow was wet, and that seemed to make the driving a little easier.

The city gave way to countryside, the fields barren and blanketed with snow. Behind a wire fence, a small herd of undernourished cattle sullenly watched them pass.

“We’re going to be all right,” Tomas said. “As long as the three of us are together, we’ll be fine.”

***

The sign read, “Turn back now.”

The Cooper’s headlights brightened the road sign on the way into Southampton, but someone with an unsteady hand and a can of red spray paint had redecorated. The next sign up, a blackened petrol advert boasted the legend, “Sanctuary is gone.”

“Do you think it’s true?” Melanie asked. She wanted to panic, but tried to keep calm. It could be a trick or some kind of hoax.

She couldn’t read Tomas’s expression by the bluish dashboard lights. He didn’t look happy, but she didn’t think he had lost hope yet. They had buckled Christopher into the backseat at the last piss-stop, making Bo’s night. The dog nuzzled the boy’s face and planted a wet lick on his cheek. Christopher had giggled and playfully shoved at Bo’s snout.

They continued toward the water. The ice-obscured roadway rose, and they were suddenly crossing a bridge that seemed to go on forever. The dense nothingness that lay on either side was surreal, and Melanie imagined them floating through space, untethered from the earth. The hazy memory of visiting Southampton years ago popped into her mind, but like every other city they had passed through, it was nothing but formless shapes of buildings and snow mounded high on stalled and abandoned vehicles.

The city was one built on transport. Railroads snaked through it, concealed by the mounting accumulation of snow and ice. The Cooper thumped dully when they passed over the tracks. As they wove through the shapeless blobs of snowy autos, a pair of ocean liners could be seen in the darkness of the bay. Beyond them, a massive freighter ship dwarfed both, but the railcars were burning, the flames low and almost dead.

The headlights brightened another handmade sign. The sign originally contained an alert that Sanctuary was just ahead, but that message had been crossed out, replaced by a painted skull, the red paint running like thin blood.

“What do you think?” Melanie turned off the music.

“I think it’s not looking too good,” Tomas answered. “But I have to see for myself. To be sure.”

He guided the small car closer to the terminals. The wind howled up from the water, making the Cooper bobble slightly. The snow flew faster, covering the windshield quicker than the wipers could clear it. Tomas reached over, found his toboggan, and tugged it on, fitting it over his ears.

“Can’t we just drive closer?” Melanie asked, alarmed that he was leaving the safety of the car. At least if a Rager appeared, they could just floor it and get away.

“Are you able to see very much?” Tomas asked, slipping a small Maglite into his coat pocket. Next, he found Stu’s pistol with the laser sight. He checked the magazine and then glanced at Melanie.

Tana had also given them one of the service rifles and a couple of boxes of ammo. Melanie felt a bit guilty that they had taken the weapon, but Tana had insisted. Melanie had gotten the uncomfortable notion that Tana had counted heads and then bullets. She pushed that idea from her mind, unable to stand the thought of it.

Tomas reached for the door handle, and Melanie grabbed the shoulder of his coat. “Wait.” She pulled Tomas to her and kissed him hard. “Hurry up, will you?”

Tomas left the car in a whirlwind of snow, and Melanie locked the door behind him. In the backseat, Bo whimpered.

“Don’t cry, Bo,” Christopher said.

Melanie strained to see Tomas through the side window, her breath fogging the glass. She cleared the mist with her palm, but it didn’t improve her vision very much. Tomas was lost to her at the moment. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she drummed her fingers on her thighs, counting silently. Her chest threatened to close up, and she breathed slowly, in through her nose and out through her mouth.

The moments dragged by.

Christopher kicked the back of her seat restlessly. “How much longer, Melanie?”

“Not much,” Melanie said, her voice shaky.

Nothing outside the window but darkness peppered by blowing snow.

Panic wanted to grip her, and she struggled to keep herself under control. Suddenly, Tomas was back. He threw open the door and quickly slid behind the wheel, the wind screeching behind him. He yanked the stocking cap from his head and tossed it onto the dash, followed by his gloves, then pressed his face into his hands, sighing deeply.

Melanie didn’t have to ask how things were. His expression told her everything.

“So, now what?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” he said, staring straight ahead. His eyes were shiny and wet, and for a moment, she was positive he was going to cry. She stroked his arm, wanting to cry herself. How much disappointment could they stand? Was it time to just find a warm spot and ride things out until the end came?

“It’s a mess out there. Marauders have destroyed everything. The smaller yacht at the far end is the one called Sanctuary. It’s sinking. Someone rammed another boat into the hull. There are bodies everywhere, Melanie.”