Authors: Michael Robertson
She showed him the palm of her hand. “It’s fine.”
“It’s just, if they have security clearance, the chances are they were one of the few responsible for this fucking mess.”
The heat in the booth seemed to rise, and Rhys fanned himself with his shirt. “Anyway, I ain’t going back over that river for shit. I just want to get my son and get the fuck out of here.”
“I don’t blame you,” Vicky said. “And six hours is plenty of time to get far enough away. Are you ready to go?”
Rhys nodded.
***
Rhys peered through the window of the squad car on the side of the road and laughed. “I don’t believe it, Vick. They left the keys in here.”
When Rhys opened the door, heat rushed out of the car like it would a hot oven. It carried the smell of stale sweat and sugar. Rhys got in and started the engine. He then wound the window down and called to Vicky, “Come on then, slow coach.”
“Me, slow? I’ve seen you run, remember?”
Rhys didn’t respond as Vicky got into the passenger seat, slammed the door, scrunched her nose up at what he could only assume was the smell, and wound the window down.
Rhys said, “Buckle up then.”
Vicky rolled her eyes, “All right,
Dad
.”
When the belt clicked into place, Rhys shoved the car into gear and sped off.
***
As soon as they rounded the first corner, Rhys hit the brakes.
Vicky leaned forward in her seat. “What the fuck?”
Another police car sat on the side of the road on fire. The flames reached at least two metres into the air. The bodies of police officers littered the ground around it, all with their hands tied behind their backs, all with bullet holes through their foreheads.
“They’re dead,” Rhys said.
“Uh huh.”
“Someone’s killed them.”
“Uh huh.”
“But who?”
Although he didn’t look across at her, he could feel Vicky’s eyes on him. “It’s just a guess, but I would say it’s the same people responsible for releasing the virus in the first place.”
“The East?”
“I would assume so.”
“But how did they get the guns to do it?”
“Who knows,” Vicky said, “but they did, and they have, so there’s no point in dwelling on it.”
A shake of his head, and Rhys pulled away.
As he steered through the carnage, he crossed his chest as if he had a god to pray to. “I don’t know what the fuck’s happening, but we need to get to Flynn now.” Once he was through the mess, he put his foot down. The sharp acceleration threw him back in his seat as it kicked up loose stones from the road.
Chapter Forty-Two
Rhys slowed the car down again. Just a few minutes had passed since they’d left the aftermath of the mass police execution. He felt Vicky look across at him but kept his focus on the side of the road.
“What is it?” Vicky said.
The words had abandoned him. Instead, Rhys pointed at a house across the street, and more specifically, its white garage door.
Vicky drew a sharp breath and spoke as she exhaled. “Fuck.”
As Rhys continued to look at the diagonal line of blood streaked up the garage door, he noticed the handprints next to it. They were subtle, but there nonetheless. He then looked at the driveway; the grey concrete was stained with yet more blood. His body and his voice shook as he said, “It’s got out of the city. We’ve got to hurry.” He revved the engine and spun away.
“But how?” Vicky said as they tore along the road. “The police were blatantly killed with bullets, not by the diseased.”
The engine screamed as Rhys pushed the car to its limit through the empty streets. Although he kept his eyes on the road, he caught the flashes of red on front doors, driveways, and even cars. Blood coated the large front window of what appeared to be the only shop in town. Claret pooled on the pavement outside.
The tyres screeched as Rhys threw the car into the next bend, and he saw Vicky reach up and hold on to the handle above her head.
“Maybe the terrorists set them loose,” Vicky said. “Killed the police and then let some out. They seem set on turning the virus against us.”
Rhys’ pulse pounded in his head as he swerved through a tight chicane. He gnawed on his bottom lip and his knuckles hurt from where he gripped the steering wheel so hard.
It didn’t matter how far or fast they went, the virus had a lead on them. Rhys glanced at the pavement and said, “There’s still blood on the streets, and we’re only about five minutes away from Flynn’s school.”
Vicky didn’t respond, but even with the chaos that raged through his mind, Rhys heard her whimper.
***
Before he’d even got to the school, Rhys’ stomach turned backflips. “What if they’re already there, Vicky? What if we’re too late?”
“Let’s just get there first. We can’t do anything until we know what we’re dealing with.”
The second he saw the school gates, Rhys’ chest constricted and the word came out as a wheeze. “No.”
Vicky didn’t speak.
Rhys skidded to a halt outside the school playground and stared through the bars. “No.” He punched the steering wheel. “No!”
Pain, confusion, and anger stared back at him from the other side of the fence. Where there had once been joy as children played, there was now only torment and blood—lots of blood.
Tears stung Rhys’ eyes and he shook his head. “We’re too late.” He gripped the steering wheel and shook it so hard the car rocked. “How has this fucking happened? My boy’s in there. How did the virus get out of the city?”
Heavy sobs snapped through Rhys as he leaned over the wheel. He felt Vicky’s arm across his shoulders and listened to her soft voice. “I’m so sorry, Rhys. I’m so, so sorry.”
Sorry didn’t make any difference to him. Rhys lifted his head. When he looked through the school’s windows, he saw splashes of blood thrown up against nearly every one of them. The front door had been busted clean off its hinges and lay on the floor. What little he could see inside showed him pure carnage, like a tornado of razor blades had torn through the building.
While he rocked in his seat, Rhys shook his head. “No, no, this can’t be happening. No.”
A deep breath, and he sat up straight then leaned into the back of the car and pulled his bat off the seat.
“Don’t get out of the car, Rhys,” Vicky said.
Although he’d heard her, Rhys popped the door open. The stupid and agonised groans of the diseased grew louder. They moaned and writhed as if in perpetual pain. Hopefully they were; the nasty things that had taken his son deserved nothing but utter torment.
At first, the diseased simply watched him. They seemed to understand that bars separated them, although they hadn’t worked out that all they had to do was find the open gate and walk through it. As he got closer to the fence, the diseased in the playground moved forward and pressed themselves against the bars.
Rhys stood still and watched the ones at the front. The thick metal pushed into their flesh as they had pressure applied from the second wave behind them. It pulled at their skin and turned their already gruesome masks of disease into something more twisted and inhuman than they already were. Instead of reaching forward with their hands, the monsters bit at the air. They needed to taste him.
Heavy breaths on Rhys’ left broke him from his trance. He turned in time to see an infected woman. She ran directly at him, her mouth open wide as blood flowed down her chin. Because of her short sleeves, Rhys saw the bite mark on her arm. No two people were turned in the same way. The diseased seemed to attack whatever part of the body they could get to.
Tears blurred Rhys’ vision, but he could see enough. Rhys yelled out and put everything he had into his swing.
The bat and her head connected with a
ping
, and the vibration ran a momentary ache directly to his elbows.
She dropped to the floor as her legs gave up mid-stride.
Before he could make sure with another blow to the head, a second diseased rounded the corner. This one was a man—the headmaster of the school, no less.
This time, Rhys ran at him. “Why
didn’t you save them? You should have done more, you useless
fuck!”
The headmaster screamed no differently than the other diseased.
Rhys screamed back and swung.
The headmaster fell.
When Rhys heard the slam of another car door, he turned to see Vicky. He pointed at her and his voice cracked as he shouted, “Get back in the car, now.”
With her bat in her hand, she shook her head. “No. Not if you won’t. I’m not letting you go down like this. And if you go, I’m going down with you.”
More footsteps approached them.
A little boy came at Rhys fast. Being about the same build as Flynn, Rhys’ heart stopped as he stared at him—but it wasn’t Flynn. It looked nothing like him, in fact. If Rhys had more involvement in his boy’s life, he would probably be able to name the kid as one of Flynn’s classmates. He would have probably seen him at the various kids’ parties that he would have attended, but he didn’t. A part-time dad didn’t hold that kind of information, and he wasn’t even that; he’d been demoted to a photo in Flynn’s room, at best.
Reluctance weakened his muscles as he stared at the boy, but he had to do it. The kid had gone. The kid had gone like Flynn had gone. A monster remained. A monster that could only create more monsters.
The kid’s skull gave more easily than those of the adults before him. It felt like swinging at an egg.
The broken form of the little boy crashed to the floor, his limbs splayed; his dark mouth wide. Tears ran down Rhys’ cheeks as he stared at the small and broken body. A frozen look of horror stretched across his tiny face.
More diseased burst from the school; Rhys shook as he lifted his bat and swallowed back the lump in his throat. The people who had once occupied the bodies had long since left. Men, women, children; it didn’t matter anymore. The same monster stared at him from every set of bleeding eyes. The same hive mind hell bent on the eradication of the human race.
As they got close, Rhys yelled, stepped forward, and swung his bat.
Chapter Forty-Three
Rhys lost the use of his arms when one of them grabbed him from behind in a bear hug. What an idiot! With his emotions so high, he’d not even thought to watch his back.
Sharp twists and turns did nothing to help him break free from the vice-like grip.
As he stood there, helpless and restrained, Rhys flinched in anticipation of the huge bite about to bury into his neck until a voice found a way through his fury.
“Rhys, it’s me. You need to get your head together and get back in the car.” When Vicky let him go, she tugged on his arm. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”
A continuous stream of diseased exited the school and filled the playground. If they stayed, they’d die. Vicky was right; they couldn’t fight them all.
As Rhys followed Vicky to the car, he headed for the passenger seat. Several checks behind, and he watched the playground fill up with the monsters.
When he got in, he slammed the door and locked it. Despite the fact that some of the diseased had come through the gate, most of them seemed yet to find it and remained constrained by the fence between the car and the playground. “I just need to know what’s happened to him,” Rhys said. “Either way, I need to know.”
Before Vicky could respond, three more diseased found their way out. They screamed and yelled as they headed straight for the squad car.
Vicky slammed the car into reverse and the engine roared as the vehicle jerked backwards.
While Vicky looked out of the back window, Rhys stared out of the front. He watched the three give chase. “The fuckers look like they can barely stand up. How can they run so fast?”
Vicky slammed the brake on, which locked the wheels and spun the car one hundred and eighty degrees. A lurch of nausea surged through Rhys.
She then threw it into first and accelerated away, her blue eyes hooded by a scowl as she checked the rear-view mirror. With her attention divided between the road ahead and the beasts behind, she said, “How the fuck did the virus get out of Summit City? How did it travel so fast? The terrorists must have let it out. I can’t think of any other explanation.”
A weary sigh and Rhys sank deeper into his seat. He watched the world flash past. A world without his son. He found it hard to give a fuck about anything else. “I don’t know, Vicky, but I’m guessing we’re fucked now it’s out. The river was our best hope of containing it. Because that hasn’t happened, we’re screwed.” A deep ache ran through his heart and his eyes watered. “I’ve failed my boy. The one thing I needed to do when everything turned to shit and I’ve fucked it up.”
The picture of Flynn remained in his shirt’s top pocket. Rhys pulled it out and stared at it. A sharp lump clawed its way up his throat and dug its nails in.
Another check in the rear-view mirror then Vicky dropped a hand on Rhys’ shoulder. She gave it a gentle squeeze before she grabbed the wheel again.
Rhys took the bark from his trouser pocket and stroked the varnished surface. His hands knew every bump of the gift, and his fingers ran familiar paths through its waxed peaks and valleys. “This world seems pointless without Flynn.”
Before Vicky could reply, Rhys sat bolt upright and turned to her. “We have to go back.”
“What? Are you fucking kidding me?”
He lifted the bark and waved it at her. “No, I’m not. Very far from it.” Heavy breaths rocked him where he sat. “Flynn might still be alive.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Vicky drove back with the same determination she’d escaped with, and Rhys had to hold the handle above the window to keep himself steady. Fear, excitement, and motion sickness wrestled for control of his guts. His palms turned slick with sweat.