Infection Z (Book 5) (5 page)

H
ayden couldn’t do
anything as the infected hurtled down the side of the wall.

He could only stand and stare.

He heard the chaos growing around him. Heard the cries, the screams, the shouts. But all of them drifted into the background. All of them, just like the sickliness in his throat. Just like the growing smell of blood in the air. Just like the feel of the light rain falling from a cloud above.

They were coming.

Just like Colin said, they were coming.

And they’d tear apart everything Hayden cared about if he didn’t act fast.

“Hayden!”

He heard a shout. It was someone ahead of him. Someone over by the gate. He recognised their voice, but it took him a few seconds to realise it was Gary.

He was standing right by the gate. Trying to close it up.

Hayden didn’t register why. Not at first.

Not until he saw the silhouettes drifting down the tunnel leading to the main gate, hurtling in their direction.

“Need a fucking hand!” Gary shouted.

Hayden started to run towards Gary. He had to help solidify this place. Had to help keep the infected away.

They could still defend this place. He knew it might be misguided or blind faith, but he truly believed it. They could defend it.
He
could defend it.

He just had to help close up that gate.

He just had to—

An infected landed to the right. Dropped down from the walls. It looked just like every other infected human.

Only it was hurtling towards a man just inches to Hayden’s right.

Hayden dodged out of its way. Fell onto his ass.

The infected threw itself at the man.

Dragged him to the ground.

Ripped the white T-shirt off his back and sunk its teeth into him, tearing away at his flesh with ferocious speed and intensity as the man lay there screaming, begging, pleading.

And then two more of the infected joined it and silenced the man at last.

“Need a fucking hand, Hayden!”

Hayden’s head spun. His legs were weak. Everything moved in slow motion. He saw more infected falling down the side of the wall. Saw them jumping on people he knew. Ripping chunks out of their necks. Bashing their skulls into the ground.

But these weren’t just normal people they were attacking. They weren’t just the people Hayden knew were uninfected.

They were attacking the people who’d been immunised, too.

Hayden felt vomit creeping up his throat. He knew he couldn’t just stand there while the people around him were butchered. He knew he couldn’t just stand around while people died. Because he was at risk by standing here, too. He might’ve been the source of the immunisation, but to these new infected, he was nothing.

He was just food.

And to Hayden, that was terrifying.

He looked over his shoulder. Looked back on the main streets of New Britain. Saw people fleeing down there. Behind them, fast in pursuit, the infected. Chasing them down. Hunting them.

And he wanted to go back and tell Miriam to lock her doors. To stay safe.

But then he heard Gary’s voice shouting for help again and he knew he couldn’t just run away.

He ran towards the gates. Stopped at Gary’s side.

“Fuck’s sake, man. What fucking took you so long?”

Hayden didn’t answer him. He just grabbed the edge of the metal barrier that covered up the gates completely. “I thought these were supposed to be easy to close.”

“If they were easy to close, they’d be goddamned easy to break into. Now come on. Help me pull.”

Hayden heard another shout behind him. He flinched, spun around. Just metres away, an infected was ripping open the guts of a teenage girl. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She cried for it to stop, to let her go, as blood splattered onto her face from her own guts.

The infected didn’t stop. It didn’t discriminate. They never did.

Man. Woman. Child. All of them were fair game to the infected. Hayden had lived long enough in this world to know that was the case.

“No time for fucking around anymore, Hayden!” Gary shouted. “On my count of three, you pull this fucking gate with me, understand? Hey, you understand?”

Hayden looked back at Gary. None of this seemed real. It was like he’d just been woken up from a dream that’d stretched on for months. Or thrown in a bath of cold water, his body still yet to adjust to the changing temperature.

He grabbed the handle of the gate. With Gary by his side, he waited for his call.

“One, two… three!”

Hayden pulled. He pulled as hard as he could. He felt the gate moving, edging slowly closer.

But in the corner of his eye, he couldn’t escape the oncoming crowd of infected. They were getting further and further down the tunnel. Soon, there’d be nothing but the weaker, mesh gating between them.

They’d be through that in seconds.

“Again!” Gary shouted. “One, two… three!”

Hayden pulled again. And this time, he felt the gate moving steadier. He felt it easing along. Soon, it’d lock into place. Soon, there’d be no way in for the infected.

Just over the top of the wall.

He went to make the final pull when he felt something smack into his right side.

Something bashed against the mesh gate. And then something else. And before he knew it, Hayden was stepping away from the gate, backing off from it.

“Don’t you fucking walk away, Hayden,” Gary shouted.

Hayden stood there. He stared at Gary. The infected were all piled up against the mesh gate. He could see the metal already splitting. There was no way they’d be able to close the main gate in time. No way they’d be able to hold them off.

They’d just find another way anyway.

Hayden looked around. Although he could still hear Gary shouting at him, although he could hear the gate splitting more and more, he couldn’t do anything but look back up the road towards where Miriam was. There’d be so many people locked up in their houses that needed safety. So many people who needed help right now.

And Hayden was here trying to close a gate. A gate that was splitting while the infected continued to pile down the wall.

“Hayden, what the fuck are you doing?”

Hayden didn’t look back at Gary. He didn’t look back at the gate. He knew what he had to do now.

He had to get back to Miriam.

He had to keep her safe.

And then they had to defend this place from within.

There was no saving the gate now. There was no stopping the flow inside the walls.

But there was stopping the death of a person he cared about.

That was his priority.

He ran away from the gate. Ran away from the wall. He didn’t look back. Didn’t look at the gate, which cracked, split away. He didn’t look back at the mass of infected that he knew would be joining their companions. He tried not to even look at the butchered bodies at his feet, the faces of people he recognised, of people he cared about.

He just kept on running.

He saw Miriam’s house in his sights. Saw it, just about half a mile away. He wasn’t the fastest runner, but he knew the side streets of this place. He knew he could get to her if he were quick. He could get to her and then they could lock down and defend themselves and—

He felt something crash into his right.

Knock him off his feet.

It took him a few seconds to realise that an infected was on top of him.

And it was getting ready to rip him open.

H
ayden felt
the infected sink its long fingernails into his stomach and he swore he felt his skin splitting away.

He tried to move. Tried to shake free of the infected holding him down. He could smell blood on its breath and taste vomit that’d seeped into his mouth. He couldn’t move. He was pinned down. All around him, he heard people gasping for life. Gunshots. Footsteps.

Everything was falling apart.

He was a part of that everything.

If he didn’t act fast.

He tried to punch it. Tried to smack the infected. But it just grabbed his hand, pushed it back down to the ground.

And then its attention turned to Hayden’s torso.

To the insides within.

Hayden’s heart pounded. He knew he had to do something. Try something. The knife. Yes, the knife. He had to use the knife. It was in his back pocket. He could reach in there. He could…

The infected opened its mouth.

Pressed its teeth against Hayden’s belly.

Hayden kicked at it. Kneed it right in the side of its head. Knocked it off balance.

The infected snarled. Looked him right in the eyes, like it had some level of cognisance that he’d never witnessed in the undead before.

And then he saw it.

He saw the infected’s face clearly. He saw exactly who it was.

It was Michael. The same man who always called up when he was on the wall, asked how he was doing. He’d spoken to him just days ago. Spoken to him just after he’d cured him.

As Michael pinned him down, as Hayden struggled to fight his way free, reaching for the knife in his back pocket, a sickening thought hit Hayden square in the gut.

What if the immunisation did this?

What if the immunisation turned Michael into one of these monsters?

He didn’t have much time to check Michael for wounds. Not right now.

He just kept on punching back. Kicking back. Hitting at Michael’s head as hard as he could. He couldn’t delay much longer. He needed to get back to Miriam. He needed to know she was safe; she was okay.

Michael pressed down his right arm.

Moved in with his teeth.

Hayden took the opportunity, as risky as it was.

He reached for the knife with his left hand.

Grabbed it between his fingers as Michael’s teeth tightened on his arm.

And then he swung it at Michael’s neck.

At his head.

Harder, harder, harder.

He could still feel Michael’s teeth clamped down on his arm. He wasn’t sure if he’d been bitten; if he’d drawn blood. All Hayden could do right now was keep on stabbing, keep on hoping, keep on doing everything to get Michael away from him.

He stabbed. Stabbed, and felt Michael’s blood spilling over him. Tasted its saltiness on his lips. All around him, the stench and sound of death grew.

And then Michael’s body went limp.

Hayden dragged himself from underneath Michael’s body. He stood. Brushed back his hair, which was glued together with setting blood. He looked down at Michael. No way of telling if he was bitten or not. Not while the infected were in the streets. No time to waste.

He looked at his arm. He could see indentations, but he couldn’t see any blood coming from the wound. Of course, his arm was covered in the splatters of blood after he’d attacked Michael, but none of it seemed to be trickling from his own arm. Besides, it didn’t
feel
like he’d been bitten properly. Not the way he always imagined it’d be. He hadn’t felt any skin break.

Didn’t matter if he had.

He just had to get to Miriam.

He caught his breath. Ran up the street. His legs were a little shakier than earlier; his head was spinning. But he kept on going. Kept on going despite the sounds of footsteps in the streets beside him. Despite the bodies of the fallen living rolling over, writhing in agony.

Hayden felt a lump swelling in his throat as he ran through the bloodshed. He wanted to help these people. Put them out of their misery. They didn’t deserve to die in agony. That’s not what they’d fought for, what they’d worked for, in this place.

But he couldn’t stick around. Because he had to protect those who
had
survived.

He hoped Miriam was one of those people.

He prayed to whatever god might be up there that Miriam was one of those people.

He heard another crack behind him; an echo splitting through New Britain. He knew what it meant. More infected were inside. More of them had found their way into this place. He didn’t want to face it. Didn’t want to accept it. But denying it was stupid. Denying it was naïve.

This place was invaded. Something alien was inside his home.

Everything was falling apart in front of his eyes.

No!

He picked up his pace. Kept on running. He couldn’t give up. He couldn’t just throw it all away. Not after how far he’d come. Not after how far they’d all come, everything they’d worked for.

He stopped when he saw Miriam’s house right in front of him.

He stood there. All sounds disappeared. All smells, tastes, feelings, all of them faded away.

Miriam’s front door was wide open.

And on the floor right in front of the door, and right inside the house, there was blood.

H
ayden walked slowly
towards the open door of Miriam’s house.

He felt a bitter chill cover him as the late morning sun disappeared behind another cloud. Or maybe it was just the shock finally hitting him. The understanding of what was happening setting in.

New Britain was under attack.

His home was under attack.

And he was caught up in the middle of it all.

He held on to his knife, which dripped blood. He kept his eyes on Miriam’s open door at all times. He didn’t want to risk missing anything. He didn’t want to blink. He just wanted to keep his focus. Whether something lunged out and attacked him, or he saw a trace of life in Miriam’s place, he wanted to see it for himself.

He couldn’t hear a thing coming from inside Miriam’s house. He took that as a positive sign. His mind tormented him with imaginings of her tortured cries. Or her pained begging for him to put her out of her misery, to end her life.

He shoved those thoughts aside. He couldn’t think like that anymore.

He had to find her. And he had to find her fast.

Only then could he allow himself to think.

He pushed open the door a little further. Heard it creak as he moved it. The bloodstain on the floor stopped, right there. There were no footprints out of the house from it, or into the house for that matter.

Again, Hayden wasn’t sure what to make of that.

But no news was good news. At least, for now.

He stepped inside Miriam’s house. Instantly, he caught a whiff of her perfume—sweet, subtle. It brought out mixed emotions in him. Part of him wished he’d been here in the first place when New Britain had come under attack, so he could’ve worked with Miriam to help keep them both safe. Another part of him hoped that wherever she was, she was okay. That she’d got away somehow, as painful a thought as that was.

But the main part inside Hayden was regret. Regret, for never truly opening up to Miriam. Regret for never telling her how he really felt about her.

He would. He’d force himself to if he found her. He’d apologise for being so stuck in that damned bubble of his and he’d tell her exactly how he felt.

But first, he had to find her.

He searched the lounge. Then the kitchen. There was no sign of anyone in here. The only evidence of life were those left behind from earlier that day—an unwashed cereal bowl sitting at the bottom of the sink. A pair of jogging bottoms left stashed on the floor, like she’d been in the middle of putting them on when the scream erupted, or something like that.

Hayden tried not to imagine Miriam’s fear. He tried not to experience her pain. Because it pained him to think of her going through those emotions.

He just had to find her.

He searched the bottom floor of the house. Searched it completely. And when he still hadn’t found her, Hayden found himself staring up the staircase. Up to the floor above. Outside, he could hear footsteps. Snarls. Cries. Gunshots.

But inside, he could hear nothing.

He looked up those stairs and prepared to climb.

And then he heard something.

His body froze. The hairs on his arms stood on end.

He could hear movement above him.

Someone moving around up there. Someone’s footsteps.

Or some
thing’s
footsteps.

He lifted his knife. Started ascending the stairs. He didn’t want to call out Miriam’s name because he didn’t want to attract any infected to his position. He just kept his focus on climbing those stairs. Of getting towards the source of the noise. He didn’t know whether it was from Miriam, from someone else entirely, or from something infected.

But he had to find out.

He had to face his fears.

See for himself.

He reached the top of the staircase. Kept his knife out in front of him, his hand shaking and sweating. He looked at the bathroom door. Held his breath. Prepared to open it up.

And then he pushed it open. Lunged in there. Readied himself to attack whatever might come out at him with the knife.

The bathroom was empty.

He stepped out of it. His heart raced. He knew there was only one more room in this house. They weren’t mansions, they were just small terraced houses. But they were big enough. They were just what they needed to be. They were home.

Hayden turned. He faced the bedroom door at the end of the landing corridor.

He stared at that door. Held the knife upright. He stayed still, his heart pounding, his mind spinning.

They were in there.

Whatever was in this house was in that room. In Miriam’s bedroom.

He had to go in there and see what it was for himself.

He walked towards it. Slowly. Being careful not to make a sound. His breathing and his racing heart sounded loud to him. He hoped it wouldn’t sound just as loud to someone, some
thing
, inside that room.

He stopped. Stopped right outside the door. Had a flashback. A flashback to the moment he’d gone to Clarice’s place all those months ago. Walked towards that bedroom door and found his parents in there. Dad, bitten, turned. Mum lying on the bed, in the process of turning.

He’d put them down. Put them both to rest. Watched them die in the bedroom, just like he’d watched his older sister hang in her bedroom when she was just sixteen.

He swallowed a lump in his throat. Gritted his teeth. He had no way of knowing what was behind the door without looking. He had no way of knowing what was inside without turning that handle and seeing for himself.

He had to go in there.

He had to face his fears.

He had to do what he had to do.

He put a hand on the handle. Held onto it in the complete silence.

Please be okay, Miriam.

He turned the handle.

Please be okay.

He pushed the door open and lifted the knife.

But he didn’t have to bring that knife crashing down.

“Hayden?”

Miriam was in the room. She was holding a machete.

By her side, other people that Hayden recognised. Martha. Her daughter, Amy. And another woman who Miriam was friendly with called Shelley.

All of them were holding weapons. Readying to attack whatever came through that door.

“You could’ve fucking said something,” Miriam said.

“Nice to see you too.”

“Quick,” Miriam said, closing the door behind Hayden. “Get the hell in here. Sit yourself down.”

“Out there, it’s—it’s—”

“I know,” Miriam said. “Still working the hell out of what we’re going to do. Thinking of making a runner to the—”

“No,” Hayden said.

Miriam frowned. “What?”

He shook his head. “We can’t go out there. Not on those streets. It’s not safe.”

“Hayden, it’s not safe in here.”

“It’s safer than it is out there.”

“But for how long?”

Hayden didn’t answer that question. Because the truth was, he couldn’t answer it. He didn’t know how long it was going to be safer in here than it was out there. He didn’t know how much longer it’d be before the infected made their way inside this house.

“The front door,” Hayden said. “It was open.”

“I killed one of ’em when I was running ’round here,” Shelley said. “Didn’t get much chance to close the door properly. Had to leave ’em lying there by the door.”

“That’s… that’s fine,” Hayden said. “Look, we need to barricade this door. Do you have any furniture we could use? The bed? The dressing table, maybe?”

“Hayden, slow down,” Miriam said. “We need to talk seriously about what we’re going to do here. Weigh up the best option.”

Hayden grabbed the bottom of the bed. Started to pull. “There’s only one damned option right now. And that’s…”

Hayden stopped pulling. He stopped talking. Everything around him just stopped.

“Hayden?” Martha said.

“Shelley. You say… you say you left the infected lying by the door?”

He turned and looked at Shelley. She frowned back at him. Nodded. “Well, yeah. Stabbed it in the neck with a screwdriver, which was enough. I didn’t move him, like. Didn’t have a lot of chance to do that.”

Hayden felt the tension in his body growing.

“What is it?” Shelley asked.

“If you didn’t move him, then who did?”

The room went silent. All of them were still in confusion. Trying to weigh up what was going on. What this meant. What they were going to do next.

And then Hayden heard the front door creak open.

Footsteps pattered into the house.

Something snarled.