Surviving the Fall: How England Died (23 page)

Read Surviving the Fall: How England Died Online

Authors: Stephen Cross

Tags: #Zombie Apocalypse

Chapter 8

 

The room felt very quiet. The door back into the tunnel shook gently. A scratching sound. More zombies.

“What do we do now?” asked Sarah.

Abdul shrugged. “How is he?”

“I think he’s ok. No idea how long it will be before he comes round through.”

“I guess we wait then.” Abdul sat on the floor beside the man, easing his large girth down with a tired sigh. “I could do with a rest anyway. As you may have guessed, I don’t get a lot of exercise.”

Sarah smiled and sat down next to Abdul.

“A rest may be a good idea.”

She took out her phone. No signal.

Now, in a relatively safe place, she found herself scared. Scared of her thoughts, thinking of what may have happened, or was happening, to her husband and daughter.

“Are you ok?” said Abdul.

She realised a tear was running down her cheek. She wiped it away, embarrassed. “I’m ok.”

“You have people you are worried about?” said Abdul.

She nodded, but didn’t say anything. She was worried that if she spoke, she would start to cry like a child.

“I have too.” Abdul pulled his wallet out of his dusty jacket. He opened it and removed a picture that he passed to Sarah.

Abdul was in the middle of the picture, surrounded by four children, ranging from young to teen. Two boys and two girls.

“It’s ok to be scared,” said Abdul. “We aren’t in a boardroom anymore.”

Sarah passed the photo back to Abdul, and she let herself go. She let the tears flow. “God, what is  happening,” she managed to say through loud sobs.

“I don’t know,” said Abdul. “But we have to try and stay alive, for the people who we care about.”

Sarah wiped the tears away from her cheeks. “Do you really think that they will be ok?”

Abdul shook his head. “I have no idea. Who knows what it’s like up there now.”

“If those things have got into the city…”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. The only sounds were the occasional scratching on the other side of the door, and the rasping breathing of the young man they had rescued.

“You look like you have a lovely family, Abdul.”

Abdul smiled, his large jowls creasing into a well practiced position. “Oh yes. I am a very lucky man. I have a good job, I work good hours. I spend a lot of time with them. Very lucky man.”

Sarah smiled back, finding it hard not to. “I have one daughter, Clarissa, and my husband, Ian. My daughter is three. I don’t see her very often.”

Abdul sighed. “Well, we can change that, once we get out of here, can’t we?”

She said nothing in return, but pulled out her phone. She scrolled through to her favourite photo - her, Ian and Clarissa at the beach in Tullock’s Bay in Cornwall, where they had a luxury holiday chalet.

The man coughed. Sarah quickly put her phone away and leaned forward.

His eyes opened and he squinted against the light. “Where am I?” he said softly.

“You’re safe,” said Sarah.

He made to sit up.

“Careful,” said Abdul, helping him up.

“You got me in from the tunnel?”

Sarah nodded. “Yes, one of the zombies nearly got you. You passed out.” There was a clang and a scratch on the tunnel door.

“That him?” said the man.

“No we killed your one. Must be others,” said Sarah.

“I saw one turning,” said the man. “They change quickly.”

“How are you?” said Sarah.

“I’m ok. I think.” He leaned forward and inspected his ankle. It was swollen, covered in wonderfully coloured bruises. “I think I have torn my perineal tendon.”

“Your what?” said Abdul.

“Sorry, my ankle. I’m David. I’m a doctor.” He held out his hand to offer a shake, then noticed his fingers. “Ah yes… That was me crawling across the floor.”

Sarah and Abdul introduced themselves.

“Well, thank you for saving me. Sorry for passing out - damned embarrassing. I don’t know what happened - the pain, I guess, and the shock, fear.”

“How is your ankle now?” said Sarah.

“Bad. I don’t think I can walk on it.”

Sarah felt a twinge of disappointment in her. “That’s ok. We can work something out.”

David looked around the small room. “I thought I saw more of you, what happened?”

Sarah glanced at Abdul, and the look must have said enough as David turned red.

“Ah, I see. Well, thank you, I guess I owe you both my life, and possibly my continued existence thanks to your kindness.”

“We’re going to get us all out of here,” said Sarah, anticipating David’s next comment.

David shook his head. “Look, I couldn’t possible ask you to sacrifice your safety-”

Abdul stood up and smiled. “Listen, there is no choice. If I have to I will knock you out and carry you myself.” Abdul paused before smiling at David.

David returned the smile. “Ok, it seems my mind is made up. Well, thank you. Thank you very much.” He looked around the room. “I will need a stick, something to support myself on. Either that or you will both have to support me. This ankle is going to be shot for a good while.”

There was only one piece of furniture in the room that would help - a metal frame filling cabinet.

“Maybe we can take that apart,” said Sarah.

Abdul examined it. “Yes, I think we can use the support posts.”

They spent the next thirty minutes pulling at the filing cabinet. Abdul had an alum key set, due to the many quick fixes he attended to during his working day. He used this to take apart the filing cabinet.

David took of his coat and use this to cushion the top of one of the support posts. He had a fulling functioning walking stick.

“How is it?” asked Sarah.

“A little too high, but it will be fine.”

By now the single scratching at the door of the little room had graduated to a continuous banging and rattling. News was out there was fresh meat inside.

They opened the other door into the support tunnel. A cold draft blew into the room. The darkness was uninviting, foreboding.

Abdul went first, using his phone as the group’s torch.

He performed a cursory investigation of the tunnel. It was about fifteen feet across, ten feet high, and with a flat concrete floor. The tunnel wall was constructed in bricks that had turned a dirty black, covered with moisture. The air was damp and cold.

“Feels like the sea is about to come in,” said David.

Abdul shone the phone light ahead of them, illuminating twenty feet or so.

“Not a lot of warning if something comes at us from the front,” said Abdul.

“Well let’s hope they haven’t got in here,” said Sarah. She felt a chill, and not just from the cold air of the tunnel. The thought that they could be blind prey, like moles, hunted by living dead creatures was hard to believe, but terrifying all the same. She wondered how terrifying it would be once she fully accepted what was happening. Abdul was right - they weren’t in the boardroom anymore.

They set off along the tunnel. Their footsteps echoed with a strange shuffle down the tunnel, the sound bouncing off one wall to another, ironically making their steps sound like a train. It was too loud, thought Sarah. Too loud for this darkness.

Progress was slow, David only able to hop along. Every now and then he let out small murmurs of pain.

“Are you ok?” said Sarah.

“I am. My ankle likes to remind me it’s still there every now and again.”

Sarah couldn’t see his face fully in the shadow, but she could sense the smile.

“Ok, good. Let us know if it get’s too much.”

They walked in silence. Although longing for the warmth of conversation and contact, their fear of what may lie ahead muted any thought of talking.

All the better to hear what may be coming.

The walk was uneventful for the first hour or so. Sarah had no idea how much ground they covered, it was impossible to tell in the pitch black. One step after another, the same as the last, the tunnel unchanging. Maybe they had stepped onto a giant treadmill and they would walk forever in this purgatory, not getting anywhere, just getting step by step closer to death.

Then came the explosion.

Chapter 9

 

First a white wall of light far up the tunnel. A flash that momentarily blinded Sarah. She instinctively held up her hand to protect her eyes. Next was the rush of warm air, and then came the sound. She wasn’t sure if the sound was the air or the air was the sound. It was all one. Warm, then hot. Loud, then incredibly loud, a sound she had never heard before. A star crushing bang, an earth moving rumble, an atmosphere splitting crack, all at once. It filled the tunnel, and her ears, and then her head and whole body. As if every cell was displaced and replaced with sound.

She fell.

The echo of the explosion bounced around the the tunnel like waves caught in a harbour. From the front, to the side, to the back. The air stilled and cooled, but not quite to the chill of before, a background warmth left hanging.

Her face felt hot.

“Is everyone ok?” she shouted into the darkness.

“I am ok,” said Abdul. His phone light came on again. He shone it around.

“I’m good,” said David, his voice strained. “If someone could help me up please.”

Abdul shone his light at David. Sarah used it to find him and help him up.

“What the hell was that?” asked Sarah. “An explosion?”

“I think so,” said Abdul, “What else could it be?”

“I guess we are lucky we weren’t closer - it must have been right up at the top of the tunnel,” said David.

Sarah had a terrible realisation. “What about the others?”

“The others?” said David.

“The people that left ahead of us.”

“They might be ok,” said Abdul. “Maybe a bit more burnt, but ok, hopefully.”

Sarah didn’t feel so sure. They would have been walking much faster than them. How much tunnel could there be?

Brick dust fell from the ceiling.

“What do you think, Abdul, a gas explosion?” said David, steadying himself on his crutches.

Abdul stared into the dark of the tunnel, breathing heavily, his lungs struggling with the dust laden air. “I’m not so sure.”

Sarah realised what Abdul was thinking. They shared a glance.

“It may not have been an accident,” she said.

“What do you mean?” said David

Sarah quickly explained the reason the train had stopped - that they had been forced to stop, that the county didn’t want them anymore.

David let out a heavy sigh. “Persona non grata, eh? Well, I guess they were right to stop the train. Thinking about it objectively. It was carrying infected.”

“What happened on the train, David? Where did the zombies come from?” said Sarah.

“A young French man. He changed in front of my eyes. It wasn’t pretty.” David joined Abdul in staring into the depth of the tunnel, towards England. “And I guess what you are thinking now is that if that explosion wasn’t an accident…”

“It was set off purposefully,” said Abdul. “To block the tunnel.”

“And stop anyone getting through.”

The group stood in silence for a moment, the full implications of their situation taking nest. Sarah’s stomach turned and she fought a wave of nausea. She realised she was experiencing something she hadn’t felt for a very long time - true fear for her life.

No use standing around doing nothing.

“Come on, we have to move,” she said. “The sooner we find out what the situation is, the better.”  She wiped her forehead and her hand came away a mucky brown, covered in a film of dust and sweat.

“Ok, let’s go then,” David limped forward in earnest, “I’ll try my best not to hold you up.”

 

For another thirty minutes they walked slowly along the tunnel, the air becoming hotter as they got closer to England. There was still no sound other than their strangely echoing footsteps, punctuated with the metallic tip tap of David’s makeshift crutch.

Belying his large frame, Abdul cut ahead, marching forward with purpose, his light searching out the end of the tunnel, or the blockage.

“So you’re a doctor?” asked Sarah.

“Time enough for small talk now?” smiled David. “Yes, I am. A junior doctor at the children’s.” David let out a small murmur of pain and readjusted himself on his crutches. “What do you do?”

“Oh, nothing important. I’m a mum. I have a young girl and a husband.”

“Being a mum’s very important.”

“I’m not very good at it,” she said.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” said David.

She didn’t answer, because it was true, thought Sarah. Clarissa had cried at her last birthday - Sarah had been called into a last minute conference in Manchester, and missed the party. The latest in a litany of missed appointments, missed days out, missed birthdays.

They walked.

The heat became uncomfortable, and Sarah regularly wiped her brow as dusty sweat trickled down her brow into her eyes.

“Whatever exploded, must still be burning…” said David.

Abdul raised his hand and shouted them to a stop. “Look!”

He held his light up high, and the weak beam illuminated a pile of rubble. Rocks; metal girders; earth in dark piles; steel panels.

A body. Half a torso protruded from the bottom of the pile.

Sarah ran forward. She heard the accelerated tip tap of David’s crutch behind her.

“Careful, he may be infected,” said Abdul.

They stood around the body carefully. It was wearing a uniform, the head covered in dust and earth. Sarah recognised the uniform.

“Alan? Can you hear me?”

She leaned down, out of reach of his mouth, just in case he had turned.

David reached forward and carefully felt for a pulse.

“Don’t get too close,” said Abdul.

“He’s alive,” said David.

Alan’s eyes opened and he coughed violently. Blood spat out of his mouth.

Sarah and David pulled back.

“Hot, it’s too hot,” whispered Alan.

Abdul took off his jacket and pushed it under Alan’s head.

Sarah automatically went to try and move a rock sitting on Alan’s chest. The rock was hot to the touch, she snapped her hand away.

“We’ll get you out of her, Alan, don’t worry,” she said.

He shook his head, earth falling off, revealing his face, burnt beyond recognition. “I’m finished. Should have stayed with you lot. That’ll teach me.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Abdul. “We can move these rocks and-” Abdul put his hand on a rock and pulled it away quickly, just as Sarah had done. “Red hot.”

Alan spoke again, more quiet, more laboured. “My legs, crushed. I think everything else too.” He was only visible from his chest up. The rocks on his body were smeared with thick blood, and what looked like chunks of flesh. Sarah tuned away, nausea revisiting her.

“Listen,” he whispered. “Back about fifty yards, ladders, to vents. We are under land now.” He coughed loudly, rasping. More blood spat out of his mouth. “Maybe they haven’t sealed the vents yet.”

He closed his eyes. His breath rattled. Phlegm.

Sarah felt tears in her eyes. She had never watched anyone die before.

David reached forward and felt his pulse again. “It’s very weak.”

Abdul shook his head. “There’s no way we can get him out, and who knows what mess is under those rocks.”

“We have to sit with him,” said Sarah. “We can’t just leave him.”

She sat down and took his hand. Alan opened his eyes slightly and looked at her. He smiled.

“I’ll look for the ladder,” said Abdul. He walked down the tunnel.

David took out his phone and turned on its light. He shone it up around the rubble. In the top left corner of the tunnel was another body.

It was Mary.

“What about the others?” said David.

Alan just shook his head.

A few minutes later and he stopped breathing. His hand went limp in Sarah’s. She wiped tears from her eyes.

“Ok, let’s go.”

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