For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak (5 page)

Then I
felt the ground tremble beneath my feet. It was something I’d felt hundreds of
times before and I knew exactly what it was.  I looked at Tom. ‘You feel that?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You
think the underground’s still going?’

‘Must
be.’

The
tremors stopped as the subway train pulled into the station which lay directly
below us. Then I heard a sound, so faint at first I wasn’t sure it was real, but
as it grew louder and louder, I became certain it was. It seemed to be coming
from the glass-covered entrance to the station thirty yards further down the
street, and sounded like distant thunder.

Iliana
gripped Tom’s arm. ‘What’s that?’

Not
having an answer, Tom and I shrugged. Suddenly, I realised I could hear
screaming and shouting mixed with the noise itself. Then the first person burst
onto the street, running as fast as he could. He glanced back and stumbled over
a body lying in front of him. He scrambled to his feet, without even bothering
to look at what he’d tripped over, and started running again. Another person
appeared, but this one looked different: he was dishevelled, with blood dripping
from a wound on his left cheek. He chased after the first man and was quickly
followed by another and then another. Soon, people were streaming from the
entrance, and it was clear they were infected. As one, we turned and raced up
the street and back to the stone steps. At the top, I stopped and looked back:
the man was still running, but the infected were closing in behind him.

‘Oi,
up here,’ I waved as I shouted. He saw me and changed direction. Iliana was
already inside and Tom was holding the door open as he yelled at me. ‘Ben,
you’ve got to get back in here now.’

‘We
can’t leave him out here; they’ll kill him!’ Turning back to the man, I saw he
was at the bottom of the steps, with the first of the infected only a few yards
behind. I sprinted over to Tom, and got there in time to see the man reach the
top just as the heads of the pursuing infected came into view. He made it to the
door with only moments to spare and we slammed it shut, but before we could get
the lock turned, the infected hit the door like a freight train. The force threw
us backwards and clawing fingers appeared around the edges. Tom and I pushed as
hard as we could against the door, but it wouldn’t move: the fingers of the
infected were stopping it from closing. 

Shaking with fear, I turned to Tom, ‘What the hell d’we do now?’

He
looked at me, terrified. ‘Use the machetes?’

I felt
the weight of the long metal weapon in my hand, and I gripped it tightly,
wondering how things could have changed so fast. I swung the blade and sliced
off half a dozen fingers; blood spurted across the walls and the floor. I swung
it again and again until the door was clear and we could finally get it closed
and locked.

Tom
and I sank to the floor, both of us breathing heavily. Iliana had her phone out
again and was desperately tapping away, while the man was sitting on the bottom
of the stairs with his eyes fixed firmly on the door behind me. I felt it move,
but the lock seemed to be holding. I surveyed the severed fingers that lay
strewn across the floor. Suddenly, I felt sick.

‘How’d
you end up with that lot chasing you?’ Tom’s voice trembled with fear. I looked
at the man properly for the first time: his face was ashen and he couldn’t have
been more than eighteen at the most. He turned to Tom. ‘What?’

Rather
than push him to relive what he’d just been through, I held out my hand. ‘I’m
Ben. This is Tom, and that’s Iliana.’

The
teenager stared blankly at me for a second before taking it. ‘I’m Daz. Well,
Darren really, but everyone calls me Daz.’ He paused for a moment. ‘You guys got
any idea what’s happenin’ out there?’

‘Did
you see what went down in Miami last night?’ Tom got to his feet and glanced
through the window in the door. The infected could sense we were inside and were
still clawing at it, blood from the stumps of their fingers smearing the glass:
even their injuries didn’t slow them down.

Daz’s
eyes drifted towards the floor. ‘Yeah.’

Tom
avoided making eye contact, too. ‘We think the virus which caused that is here.’

‘Fuck!’ A puzzled expression appeared on Daz’s face. ‘I thought they’d closed
the borders or somethin’, so that couldn’t happen.’

‘I
guess they were too late.’ I thought about this. It was odd. Of all the places
for the virus to suddenly appear, the centre of Glasgow seemed one of the most
unlikely. I could see it happening at Heathrow, or Gatwick, or even somewhere
like Manchester Airport: they all had plenty of connections to the US, but as
far as I knew Glasgow only had two direct flights: one to Newark, and the other
to Miami. That’s when it struck me: the morning flight from Miami would have
arrived just before the borders had been closed; someone on that flight must
have been infected and they must have made it as far as the city centre before
they turned.

‘So
how’d you end up being chased by our friends out there?’ Tom nodded his head
towards the door as he looked at Daz.

‘I
stayed over at a pal’s last night in the West End an’ was just headin’ into town
for a bit before goin’ home. I got on at Hillhead an’ sat down in the first
carriage. I was just textin’ this girl I met the other night, tryin’ to get her
to go out for a few drinks later when we pulled into the next station. There was
this young boy lying on the platform with people crowdin’ round him. Before I
could see what was goin’ on, the train had moved past. Looking through the doors
which connect all the carriages, I could see a fight breakin’ out at the far
end. I thought it was just a bunch of Neds messing’ around, an’ I went back to
my phone. At the next station, I looked up again and saw the fightin’ had spread
to the next carriage. I could see people strugglin’ with each other an’ that.’

Daz
took a deep breath and looked quickly at each of us in turn, as if he was
checking we were ready to hear what he had to say next.

‘We
moved off again, but I kept watchin’. Just as we arrived in Cowcaddens, a man
burst into my carriage and tried to force the door shut behind him. He was
covered in blood an’ was shoutin’ somethin’ I couldn’t quite make out. Everyone
turned an’ stared at him, an’ the train lurched forward; he lost his footin’ an’
fell onto the floor. The door burst open again an’ these people just started
pourin’ through. Except they weren’t actin’ like people, they were actin’ like
animals, attackin’ anyone they could get their hands on. They were covered in
blood an’ one of them was rippin’ into some poor woman’s face.’

He
shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of this image. It was a few seconds
before he carried on.

‘As
everyone started to crowd towards my end of the carriage to get away from these
people, I was squashed up against the door. Just before the first of them got to
me, I felt the train slow an’ I realised we’d pulled into Buchanan Street. The
doors opened an’ I was pushed onto the platform by the people behind me. The
same thing was happenin’ at the other doors an’ soon there were all these people
on the platform. I scrambled to my feet an’ started runnin’ up the steps. I
heard this sound behind me, an’ I looked back an’ saw all these people chasing
me, their faces screwed up with anger an’ blood on them, on their hands an’ all
over their clothes.’

There
was a loud bang as one of the infected threw itself at the door with enough
force to cause it to shudder alarmingly. Daz jumped as a look of panic flashed
across his face, but when he realised we were still safe, he steadied himself,
closing his eyes for a moment before speaking again. ‘When I got to the top of
the stairs, I ran into the first turnstile, but it didn’t move so I jumped over
it. Then I heard a crash and l glanced over my shoulder. It seemed that the
turnstiles weren’t working for them either an’ instead of leapin’ over them,
they were just pilin’ up against them; the ones in front being crushed by those
comin’ up after. I slowed down, thinkin’ I might’ve gotten lucky, but one of
them made it through by climbin’ over the bodies of the others ahead of it. Then
another made it, an’ another.

‘I
sped up again an’ headed for the escalators, takin’ them two at a time. I could
hear the people comin’ up behind me, an’ the noises they were makin’ were
echoing off the walls around me. It was pure terrifyin’.’ His voice faded out
and he took a deep breath before carrying on.

‘Anyway, I think you pretty much know the rest from there.’ Daz was staring down
at his shoes. He slammed his fist into his thigh. ‘Fuck! I can’t believe this is
happenin’ here.’ He looked up. ‘What the hell’re we goin’ to do?’

I
could hear the infected still hammering at the door behind me. ‘Well, we can’t
go back out there.’

Tom
stared at me. ‘Are you saying we’re trapped in here?’

Iliana
looked up from her phone. ‘We could try the other door. It leads onto the street
by the bus station. We might be able to get out that way.’

‘Sounds like a plan to me,’ Tom grabbed his machete. Which way?’

‘Up
here!’ Iliana shoved her phone into her pocket and raced up the stairs. We
followed as she led us through a maze of empty corridors. I wondered where
everyone was, but then I realised it was still too early for the concert hall to
be open, or even for many of the people who worked there to have arrived.
Eventually, we reached a solid-looking door and Iliana stopped. She put her hand
on the handle, then hesitated before withdrawing it again. ‘What happens if
they’re out here, too?’

Up to
this point, none of us had considered this possibility. I pressed my ear to the
door, but heard nothing. I eased it open as quietly as I could and peered
through the gap. The street looked deserted and there were no bodies in sight.
It looked like the horde of infected hadn’t passed this way. I glanced back at
the others. ‘I think we’re in luck.’

‘What’re we going to do once we get out there?’ Iliana sounded scared.

‘We
need to get out of the city as soon as we can. We need to find a car or
something … anything,’ I hesitated for a moment, ‘Ehm, any of you happen to know
...?’

‘Know
what?’ Daz looked at me enquiringly.

‘How
to steal a car?’ I glanced round nervously as the others shook their heads.

‘What
are the chances?’ Tom snorted. ‘Four Glaswegians and none of us knows how to
nick a car!’

I
stifled a snigger, knowing Tom was just trying to lighten the mood. ‘Not really
the right time, Tom.’

I
opened the door a second time, and risked poking my head out. I could see a
portly middle-aged man in a business suit prowling round a car, slamming at the
windows as he tried to get in. As quietly as possible, I pulled my head back in
and turned to the others. ‘D’you want the good news or the bad news?’

Tom
put his ear to the door, trying to work out what was going on outside. ‘What’s
the good news?’

‘I
think I’ve found us some transport.’

Tom
pulled away from the door. ‘And the bad news?’

‘There’s an infected man between us and it.’

Daz
glanced at me. ‘What d’you mean?’

‘There’s a woman out there sitting in a Range Rover, so she must have the keys.
The trouble is there’s one of
them
trying to get to her. We’ll have to
deal with him before we can get to the car.’

‘How’re we going to do that?’ Tom asked worriedly.

I
looked down at the machete I was still clutching in my right hand; it was
already covered in blood from where I’d severed the fingers of the infected as
they’d tried to get inside. The very thought of what I was about to suggest made
me feel like I was going to throw up. I swallowed hard. ‘I guess we could use
these.’

‘And
do what exactly?’ Tom was staring at me.

‘Take
it out, you mean?’ Daz was staring at me, too.

Iliana
gulped, disbelievingly. ‘You’re going to kill someone?’

‘Yes.’
I closed my eyes, wondering if I could bring myself to do it. ‘I don’t think we
have any other choice.’

Tom
shuffled his feet nervously. ‘Have you ever done anything like that before?’

‘No.’
I stared at the ground. ‘Have you?’

Tom
shook his head.

As we
looked at each other shiftily, I heard the sound of breaking glass outside
followed by a roar. I opened the door and stuck my head outside; the fat man had
broken through the front passenger window of the Range Rover and was trying
desperately to reach the woman in the driver’s seat. He was, however,
sufficiently rotund that he couldn’t fit through the window and she remained
beyond his grasping hands. As I watched, she swivelled round in her seat and
started kicking him as hard as she could. Soon there was nothing left of his
face but a mass of blood and broken bones. Finally, he stopped moving and lay
still, half in and half out of the car.

I
turned back to the others. ‘Looks like we won’t have to deal with him after
all.’

They
looked at me questioningly, but before they could ask, I turned and ran out of
the door; seconds later, I heard them follow. I was halfway to the Range Rover
when I noticed a distant sound; I glanced round to see a crowd running towards
us. By the way they were moving, I had no doubt they were infected. When we
reached the Range Rover, Tom and I tried to pull the lifeless body from the
window, but the man’s bulk meant he was tightly wedged. Up the road, the
infected were rapidly closing on us. I called out to the others, ‘Daz, Iliana
give us a hand!’