Unfed (22 page)

The time has come. I was hoping it wouldn’t, but now it has. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and only one solution.

I reach into my pocket for the gun.

I pull the gun out. It’s still in plastic. God, why didn’t I unwrap it again? Doesn’t exactly make for a quick draw. But it is loaded, that much I know. I fiddle with the tape with my freezing hands, trying not to drop it.

“What’s that?” Russ demands. “You’re not going out there.”

“Back off!” I hiss at him. Russ shuffles backward a little. “Pete, get up those stairs
quickly
. Smitty and Alice, you’d better help him.” I pull the gun free of the plastic at last, shielding it from them with my body as I check the safety.

“What are you going to do?” Alice whines back. “Stop bossing us around, you baldy freak.”

“Get on with it!” I turn round and point the gun at her. It’s a really crappy thing to do, I know it. Seriously, do
not
try this at home. But it gives me a couple of seconds’ worth of the best laugh ever. Because she sees the gun, and she craps herself and slithers to the stone-cold ground. If I’m going to die in a minute or two — and I kind of think that’s pretty likely — at least I finally owned Alice.

Smitty gulps. “What the fu —”

“You, too,” I cut him off. “I’ll hold them off, you light the way for Mum.”

He gives me such a look — of confusion, admiration, shock, and little side helpings of lust and terror thrown in there for good measure — that I nearly crack. But he complies. Because when there’s a gun, you do.

“I can’t believe she’s got a bloody gun. All this time, a bloody gun!”

I can hear Alice going into overdrive somewhere behind me as I open the door, creep out into the fog, and slither to my stomach. This is it. I click off the safety. I breathe, the cold, wet stone beneath me making me shiver. But I’m sweating under my collar. I hold the gun up, look down the barrel. Three figures, in and out of swathes of damp fog, on the beach. But soon they’ll be at the harbor, and that will be when I shoot. I’m no sniper with a rifle. This is a handgun. If I’m going to shoot them, I’m going to have to do it when they’re closer, but not so close they disappear into the fog.

Michael’s pointing down the harbor wall. He’s seen us, or maybe he heard Alice having her moment. They’re heading this way — just a few seconds more. I find a few lobster pots to hide behind.

Now to do this, now to kill somebody.

Who? Who goes first? I’d like to take out Michael in a heartbeat, but even as much as I hate him, it’s more difficult than I thought. I should have just bitten him when I had the chance. If I’m right and I am infected, maybe he would have turned by now. That would have been easier than shooting him in cold blood.

OK, so not him. At least I don’t know either of the others. Plus they have guns. Once I shoot, they’ll shoot back. Makes more sense to take one of them down first.

Eeny, meeny, miney, mo …

In the end, I choose the closest one, the easiest shot.
Sorry, mister
.

I aim, squeeze gently. Nothing. The gun is heavy, makes my hand ache. Squeeze more. Always a little more than you’d think …

There’s a
bang
, and I nearly scoot backward into the sea, even though I was expecting it. The men weren’t expecting it, however, and they jump into the air. They all come down again, all in one piece. I missed. And I realize I meant to. I can’t do it. I can shoot at them, but I can’t kill. How screwed up is that? They would kill me and not think twice, but I can’t shoot them.

Well, maybe in the leg …

I go to line up my shot, but they’ve got wise to the situation and taken cover. I fire one off anyway, so they know the first wasn’t a fluke. And now comes the gun battle. The one I know I can’t help but lose, because they are trained killers with rifles, and I am a schoolgirl with a good eye but only three remaining bullets and a lobster pot for protection.

But this was never about winning, just about buying time … and it works. A minute later and there’s a very loud
clunk-clink
, and a
buzz
, and the lighthouse fires up its bulb. Pete did the business; I’ve never loved him more.

I fire off a couple of shots, then crawl back to the door, flinging it open. Smitty and Alice meet me there.

“Keep low and run — now. Run to the end of the wall!” I wave them on with the gun, and they’re off, tumbling down the steps and toward the water. I hunker down, half in, half out of the doorway, the big blue wooden door shielding me.

I think I hear the sound of a boat’s engine out there somewhere, but maybe that’s just wishful hearing.

Only one bullet left now. Use it wisely …

“Pete, Russ,” I rasp, not able to tear my eyes off the soldiers’ hiding places and look into the lighthouse. “Get moving!”

The soldiers are falling back. Incredible. Do they know what we’ve done? Know they’re too late? That they’re defeated? Or are they merely waiting for reinforcements? Only Michael remains, walking out from behind the wall where he’s been crouching, looking up at me. I could take him out. Maybe he even wants me to.

There’s a noise and a crash from inside the lighthouse, and I twist around.

Pete and Russ are lying on the floor beside the gate. Behind the metal bars is a raving, bearded zombie. He hollers at them, throwing an angry arm through the gate, reaching for flesh. But they’re just out of reach.

I scramble toward them.

“Hiding … upstairs,” Pete wheezes. “He attacked me, made me fall down the stairs.”

“But you did it, Pete.” I squeeze his arm. “The light. And you made it back in one piece.”

Pete looks pained. “I don’t know …” He puts a hand to his side, and it comes away red.

“Bitten?” Russ says.

“I’m not sure,” Pete says. “I hurt myself on the way down.” He looks at Russ. “And when you pulled me through the gap.”

“Mate, he was on top of you.” Russ shakes his head.

“Yes, but …” Pete’s eyes tear up. “I thought I’d got away …”

Russ stands up. “We have to leave him.”

I shake my head. “Think again. The soldiers have fallen back. We go, now.”

“Not with Pete,” Russ says. “He’ll turn.”

I grip the gun tightly. “Didn’t you hear, Russ? I don’t leave my bitten friends to die.”

“No antidote this time, Bobby,” Russ says. Pete looks stricken.

“We have Smitty. And we have my mother. She’ll figure something out.” I raise the gun at Russ. “I hate to do this. But move your butt. Because I’m done with wasting time.”

Russ flings open the door, and I help Pete out, making sure my gun is aimed at Russ the whole time.

As soon as we get outside there’s an unmistakable hum, a motor noise coming from the direction of the sea. Then, through the fog, I catch a glimpse. A small boat with an outboard, heading our way. The fog conceals all but the outline of the boat, but I know.

“She’s here,” I say. “She’s come for us.”

Smitty and Alice are crouched on the stone steps leading into the water. We lower ourselves down on the ground beside them and wait. I will the boat to get here quickly, my eyes glued to the sea. A little way off, I can just see a round shape floating in the water. At first I think it’s a buoy, but it’s way too big, and as I look closer, I realize it has a tiny red flashing light on it.

“What —?” I start.

“Mine,” Pete stutters. “Tethered, no doubt, but deadly. Explodes on contact. I had been wondering about what they’d do to secure the borders out to sea. Otherwise how do you keep people in?”

Alice stares up at him. “Are you saying it’s a bomb?”

Pete nods, sweat running down his pale face. “They’ll have them peppered all around the coastline. And a few farther out to sea, no doubt. Mainly as a deterrent.”

The boat gets closer — close enough for me to make out a figure on board — and I want to call out to Mum to warn her. But just as she’s almost on it, she skillfully avoids it. I breathe a sigh of relief.

But I relax too soon.

There’s a shout, a scream — and as I look up the steps behind me, all I see is Pete, arms outstretched, face pulled into a screech, falling toward me.

He’s turned? Already?

He clatters against me, my wrist bending the gun against my own body. Then a hand grabs me and pulls me backward, and I tumble down the step. The gun flies out of my grasp, smashes on stone, and discharges with a
bang
. I brace myself to hit the cold water below, and the world goes dark and swallows me whole.

I’m floating on my back in the churning, gray water.

The waves are tossing me here and there — actually throwing me up into the air and then catching me again, like my dad used to do when I was a kid. And now, as then, it’s kind of fun. I think I should feel scared and cold, and the salt should be stinging my eyes and the back of my throat. But actually, I’m good. Quite happy to be here and helpless and just letting this happen. Because after all this time of having to try and be in control of this crazy, I’m just gonna let stuff happen. Isn’t that great? Stop fighting. Smile, even. Let the surf toss me up in the air. Let the sea dash me against the rocks or drown me in the murky depths. It’s fine, honestly. Because I’m numb, and I don’t even care anymore, and it feels great.

But then I turn my head, and I see Smitty. He’s floating, too, but he’s not moving. Facedown, arms spread wide, torso bobbing. For a horrible moment I think his legs have been bitten clean through by a shark, but then I see them beneath the water, just hanging there, motionless. I jolt upright in the water, grab his leather jacket, and try to haul him the right way up so that he can breathe, so that we can ride the waves together, so that we can continue the fight until it is done.

He’s very heavy. Weighed down and waterlogged. My muscles scream, the cold rushes in, and I realize I can barely keep myself from sinking in this water, let alone support the two of us.

There’s a huge boat, just a little way off. Every time the waves carry us up, I catch a brief glimpse. Hope spikes me in the chest. It’s going to be so hard, but we can reach it. I just need him to help himself.

“Smitty!” I try to shake him awake, screaming at the back of his dark head. “Smitty!”

Just when I think all is lost, the wave helps me and he turns over, his head lolling, dark hair stuck down over his face. I grab the lapels of his jacket and hoist him toward me. I wipe a hand across his face, brushing his hair back.

Eyes open. A smile.

It’s not him. It’s me.

My mouth drops open. I gulp a lungful of water and sink five fathoms deep below the churning gray waves.

*  *  *

It’s just a dream
.

I wake up gasping, like I’ve been held underwater.

I’m on my own, lying in a bed. The only sounds are my gasps and my heart beating loudly in my ears. Hands gripping the cold metal sides of the bed, I stare up at the bright white ceiling, steadying myself while the room stops going up and down, hanging on, waiting for the calm.

It never comes.

Where the hell am I?

“Hello?”

Bright lights. A room. White walls.

Again?
I’m back in the hospital? Again?

Bile rises in my throat and I try to sit up. I kick out with a foot and swear as I stub my toes on the end of the bed. I notice a small control panel hanging off the side of the bed. There’s a button on it that says
CALL
.

“Okeydokey, let’s call.”

A couple of minutes pass. Or maybe less, I’m not sure. And then the door opens and a head looks round.

It’s my mother.

Damn, damn, damn, I’m still dreaming
. Seriously, wake the hell up already! I look for bits of myself to pinch.

And then she’s there, by my bed, like she didn’t really need to walk across the room, like she just kind of levitated there like an angel, which is totally fine because this is a dream, and any old crap is possible in a dream.

She looks at me. She takes my face in her hands, her eyes crinkle, and big wet tears drip down her cheeks and plop onto mine. Oh, lordy. This is quite the scene. Now I know I definitely have to wake up. Oh god, she’s kissed me, and she’s sobbing.

“Bobby! Oh, I’ve been so worried about you. I’m so sorry, my little girl.” More tears fall.

Jeez. The mother in this dream is so wet. Positively soggy. Both metaphorically and literally.

Then the door opens again, and Smitty comes in. And then Pete and Russ. And some muscly guy in black I don’t know, and finally a woman in scrubs who fiddles with my wrist. Good god. It’s
The
Wizard of Oz
, I’m Dorothy, and all these random farmhands who are inexplicably allowed into my bedroom are actually the friends from my dream.

Am I still dreaming?

“Ow!”

The nurse has just stuck me with a needle. “Sorry,” she breezes and smiles at me.

“Just a blood test, Bobby,” Mum says. “No need for alarm. How are you feeling?”

“You gave us a shock,” Russ says. “Cracked your head on the boat. Blood everywhere.”

“Not cool, Bobby.” Smitty gives me a smile.

“After all your efforts in the gun battle, it seemed rather unfair you should miss out on the rest of it.” Pete nods enthusiastically.

“Wait.” I use the rails on the side of the bed to pull myself up. “Where are we?” I step onto the cold floor and try to stand up. “You!” I point at Pete. “You were bitten. You turned, you tried to grab me.” The floor undulates. I wobble, nausea creeping up into my throat. Everyone shouts, “Whoa!” and Mum and the nurse help me back into bed.

“Pete is fine; he was wounded, but not infected,” Mum says.

“They patched me up, Bobby.” Pete tentatively lifts up his T-shirt. “I’m absolutely fine. Sorry about what happened on the steps.” He shrugs. “It all happened so fast, it’s rather a blur — but I can only assume I slipped and fell on you.”

“And we’re safe?” I twist around to look at my mother.

“This is a hospital ship,” Mum says. “We’re in the North Sea. We’re safe.”

I look around the room. There’s a frickin’ porthole. That should have been a major clue. Though at the last hospital we had tropical butterflies and look how that ended up.

“We were right about the coordinates, then.” The room is still going up and down, but at least now I know it’s not me. I glance up at Mum. “This is where you’ve been waiting?”

“We were watching the bay. As soon as we saw that train coming in, I had a feeling it would be you. You tend to find a way.” She whistles and shakes her head like she’s surprised. “I knew it was the only place we’d all be safe. I pulled some strings. We’ll stay here until the worst is over.”

“The soldiers?”

Mum pauses. “We discouraged them from following us.”

“OK …” I look around. “Where’s Alice?”

My mum gives a half smile. “She was a little … seasick. She’s having a lie-down until she feels a bit brighter.”

I know how she feels. I’m kind of hoping I find my sea legs sooner rather than later.

“You should get some rest,” Mum says.

I squint at her. “Is this the kind of rest where you put me to sleep and then I wake up and everyone’s vanished apart from those of you who have gone all monstery on my sleeping ass?”

Mum makes a face at the language. “No, Roberta. It is not. When you’ve had a sleep, come and find us on the main deck upstairs, and we’ll have a bite to eat.”

I give her a look.

She puts up a hand. “Not like that. I mean a sandwich.”

“Wait!” Something was niggling at me, now I know what it is. “When you said ‘Alice is feeling a bit seasick,’ did you actually mean ‘Alice has been infected and is going to turn into a zombie and eat all of our brains, starting with Bobby’s because she hates her the most’?”

Mum shakes her head. “Rest easy. She’s been tested — you’ve all been tested. We did that first thing when you boarded, it was one of the conditions of them allowing you to stay.” She licks her lips. “Well, they know about Smitty’s special circumstances, but apart from that, you’re all in the clear. Now sleep.” She and the nurse usher Russ and Pete out, but Smitty lingers by my bedside.

“I totally had the same thought about Malice. Kind of glad she’s not on the turn.” He grins. “Undead Alice would be such a pain.”

Mum, the nurse, and the unknown guy walk to the doorway, discussing something on my medical chart. I whisper to Smitty.

“Weird about Pete. Russ was certain he’d been bitten. He wanted to leave Pete behind.”

Smitty shakes his head. “He doesn’t trust Pete.”

I think about it. “Do you? Russ told me he found a walkie-talkie in Pete’s things. One of the ones the Xanthro soldiers were using. And did he slip on the steps? Or was he trying to take me out?”

Smitty raises his eyebrows. “Albino’s been in this mess with us right from the start. He’s a nerd and a pain, but I trust him with my life. What Russ says? That’s just meathead-thinking; guys with muscle don’t like guys with brains.”

I squint at him. “And which one are you?”

“You know me, Bob.” He winks at me. “I don’t have either. Just charm and good looks.”

I pull a face. “And zombie juice running through your veins.”

“Ah, well,” he says. “They’ll sort me out here — it’s a hospital, isn’t it? I’ll be kushti, Bob. They’ve got
Fallout 5
on Xbox; we can totally hang here for a week or two.” He leans in. “See that bloke? That’s my bodyguard. Apparently I am the most important person currently walking the earth,
and he has to follow me everywhere. Kind of might make things between us a little difficult.” He gives me a knowing look. “Unless you like being watched.” He winks, and I go to smack him in the face, and he dodges. Like he always does.

Gah
. In front of my mother and everything.

He chuckles and blows me a kiss as he leaves, the red on my face heating up the entire room. I wonder if my bald head blushes, too? You gotta bet it does.

The nurse gives me a juice to drink and leaves. Mum nods at the muscly guy who’s been standing in the corner, watching her — and he leaves, too.

“You have a bodyguard now?” I look at her. “Or is he for me?” I down my juice in one gulp, and she takes my hand.

“I’m proud of you, you’ll never know how much,” she says. “It went against every bone in my body to leave you in that hospital. But I knew you’d be safe there as long as they didn’t know you were my daughter.”

“They found out.” I look her in the eyes. “Michael was there.”

She nods. “So the others told me. I had no idea, obviously. I thought the hospital would be the best place for you while you were injured. And if you hadn’t broken out of there with the help I sent, I would have been back. With considerable force, you have to believe that.”

“Grace got shot,” I tell her. Again she nods.

“Regrettable. I should never have sent her after you; it was pure recklessness on her part to release the infected.”

“You could say that.” I pull a face. “Anyway, you did the right thing to get Smitty away.” I swallow. “They would have done anything to get their hands on him.”

“Oh, no,” Mum says. “They didn’t know he was carrying both the stimulant and the antidote in his system. How could they? They didn’t witness it. The only person who knew about him was me.” She shakes her head. “No, he was never really in danger.”

Here it comes. “Then why were we being chased?” I squeeze her hand. “They tested me at the hospital, Mum. I know about it. About how I’m different. That’s why they came after us, isn’t it?”

“So much for you to deal with. Get some rest. I owe you some more answers, I know I do.” She stands and squeezes my hand back before releasing it. “But a little at a time. See you up on the deck in a few hours; I’ll explain everything.”

She leaves.

Really?
OK, so I’m probably as tired as I’ve ever been in my life, and I’m sure that nurse just slipped me a Mickey Finn in that juice, but as if I’m going to zonk out for “a few hours” after all that’s happened! I’ll give it twenty minutes, and then I’m totally going up there …

*  *  *

I sleep. But no dreams. Not this time. When I wake up, the lights are dim and I have a dry mouth. But I know this is real life. My bones ache.

I get out of bed. Someone has thoughtfully placed some clean scrubs and a robe for me to put on. A fluffy white robe, with bunny scuff slippers. My own clothes are absent, except for my boots and my coat. I think about it and reject slippers for damp and smelly boots. If the last few weeks of my life have taught me anything, it’s that you should always be able to run.

So she said they’d all be upstairs on the main deck. I envisage my mother standing at this enormous wheel, wearing a captain’s hat,
while everyone holds on for dear life. I open the door and step out into the corridor. Not much lighting here, either. And it’s deadly silent. Not quite the bustling hospital, then. My nurse sits at a desk bathed in orange light at the end of the corridor. She looks up at me and smiles.

“Feeling OK?”

“Um, yes. Thanks.” I walk toward her, trying not to hold on to the walls in case she thinks I’m not up to it.

“Bit rough out there tonight.” She smiles. “Still, better conditions than being on land at the moment.”

She makes it sound like we’re having a bad rainstorm or something.

“They’re all up there.” She points to a sign that reads
MAIN DECK
, with an arrow. I give her a nod of thanks and follow the arrow. There’s a metal staircase, and I clank up it, holding on to the cold rail. Another corridor, another arrow, and then a sign on a dark wooden door. I open it.

No Mum playing captain, no ship’s wheel. The room is a large lounge area, with velvet armchairs and a headache-inducing patterned carpet. There are big windows looking out to the bow and port and starboard, and glass doors to the deck outside; it looks pretty bleak and stormy out there. Smitty and Pete are sitting at a homey-looking gas fireplace; Alice is reclined in a chair, covered with a blanket but deep in flirtation with Russ nonetheless. Seems a bit of seasickness isn’t putting her off her stride. My mother and Smitty’s bodyguard, plus two of his buddies, are talking at the far end of the room.