The Afflicted: A Zombie Novel (9 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Evan’s race across the car park was surprisingly easy. Most of the zombies had indeed left, leaving him to dodge through the few standing easily. He sprinted around the warehouse and down the road unhindered, ignoring the feeble arms and hands reaching for him. Jumping over a low wooden fence, he landed in the back garden of the house. One large window showed him it was dark and quiet inside. Evan wasted no time and smashed the window with the hockey stick. The noise instantly alerted inquisitive zombies and Evan rushed through the big bay window he had knocked out.

 
  The room was dim, but clean, and he could make out two open doorways flanking a huge flat-screen television. One door led to a small kitchen, the other to a hallway. He could hear the sounds of the approaching dead and had to take a chance.

“Hey, anyone here?” he called out
loudly.

He heard movement upstairs and went to the foot
of the stairs in the hallway. At the top were closed doors and Evan called out again.

“I’
m here to help! Hello?”

He heard more movement and tensed, preparing to run.
A door opened and a young girl walked out. A pale face looked down at Evan.

“Are you alone?” she said
, timidly, sizing Evan up.

“No, my friends are outside. We’ve got a truck and we’re getting out of the city.
We saw your sign. Are your parents here? Are you hurt?”

She relaxed, realising Evan
evidently wasn’t going to harm her.

“I’m ok
ay. My dad’s in Canberra and my mum went to church yesterday to pray, but I haven’t seen her since. I put the sign up this morning but you’re the first person I’ve seen: other than those things out there.”

She walked down the stairs and Evan was glad she was alone. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if a whole family had appeared. Th
e girl was about fifteen or sixteen, dressed in black jeans and a skin-tight black top that looked like it had been sprayed on.

“I’m Lily,” she said, “
Um, look, can you take me with you? I can’t stay here anymore. I’m not stupid, I know my mum’s not coming back.” She precociously swung a tiny handbag over her shoulder.

Evan could see her clearer as she got to the bottom of the stairs. Her hair was tied back in a
thick ponytail and she’d caked the make-up on a little too thick.

“Sure
, but we need to hurry, okay?” Evan heard the moaning and groaning of the dead worryingly close now. A few zombies had gotten into the house through the broken window and were stumbling around in the lounge. One of them, an old Chinese man in a tatty, torn bath-gown, suddenly appeared in the doorway beside Evan. Lily screamed.

Evan instinctively sliced the bladed
hockey stick through the air, tearing the zombie’s throat out in one swoop. It reeled backwards and stumbled into three more zombies, all converging on the doorway.

“Come on!” 

Evan grabbed Lily’s hand and they ran down the hallway into the kitchen. Through the tiny window, Evan saw the front yard was swarming with zombies, thrashing and gnashing, desperate to get into the house. He saw a white van screech to a halt on the road.

“That’
ll be our ride,” he said to Lily. “Look, I know this is crazy, but our best bet is the way I came in. Just follow me and run to the van. Don’t stop for anything, all right?”

“Okay,
” she said, trembling. Lily’s bright red fingernails were digging into Evan’s hands. He let go and charged back down the hallway into the lounge. Using the hockey stick like a battering ram, he speared the first zombie that lunged for him, knocking it over. He pulled his makeshift spear out and swinging it over his head, sent it smashing into another’s head. Another zombie grabbed his arm and he shook it free. He rammed the hockey stick upwards, the blade entering through the chin and penetrating its brain. The zombie tottered backward unsteadily with the tip of the knife sticking out of its head. As Evan yanked the hockey stick back, the knife refused to budge and tore free from the stick, permanently lodged in the zombie’s head.

“Run!”

Evan jumped through the bay window with a terrified Lily in tow. In the garden were more zombies: lots of them. He couldn’t possibly fight them all in such close proximity. Head down, he charged through them like a bowling ball, hoping that the snapping teeth wouldn’t catch him. The zombies flailed and failed to get a decent hold on him or Lily. He jumped the fence and Lily followed in his wake. She saw the van and raced ahead of him. Evan saw the back door was open and Amane was swiping at anything coming close, knives slicing through skin, shaving off fingers, keeping the clamouring zombies at bay. Lily jumped up and Karyn helped pull her into the safety of the van.

Evan suddenly slipped and fell. His hockey stick flew out of his hands and he felt fingers curl around his
leg as he fell to the ground. He lashed out, trying to kick free but the grip was too strong. The zombie’s other hand grabbed him at the knee. Evan saw the remains of the dead dog he had slipped in and thought how stupid he was. Trying to wriggle himself free, he began punching the zombie on the head so it could not get a stronghold. It was another old man: larger though and a lot less fragile than the one in the house.

Evan rapidly brought his fist down
, again and again, on the man’s bald head, feeling his knuckles strike bone through blanched, leathery skin. The zombie could not bite Evan being jostled about and it looked up at its prey. Evan landed a left-hook that broke the zombies jaw, but did not dislodge its grip. He saw a dozen more zombies only feet away and felt almost overwhelmed by the futility of what he was trying to beat. He frantically felt around for his hockey stick, but it had fallen frustratingly out of reach.

Just as the zombie was preparing to take a chunk out of Evan’s leg,
an axe butchered its way through its head, smashing onto the tarmac road, taking the old man’s face off in one clean slice. The death grip on his legs disappeared, and with nothing holding him down, Evan scrambled to his feet. Amane grabbed him and with the axe in her other hand, ran to the van dragging Evan along with her.

“Come on,
hurry!”

With no time to thank her, they both jumped into the
van that roared off, leaving a trail of bloodthirsty, dissatisfied zombies stumbling after them. From the safety of the van, George watched the crowd of zombies. One little girl, throat ripped out, stumbled after them on stiff legs, her arms outstretched. One hand still held tightly onto a ragged doll and George watched her until she disappeared from sight.

Joe drove as fast as he could,
knocking down anyone, or anything that got in his way. Zombies bounced off the van, spinning and bouncing away onto the verge, sometimes careening right under the van. Joe felt them crunch satisfactorily.

Leaving the hungry zombies behind him, Joe picked his way carefully through the city. George was strapped into the passenger seat beside him
staring at the foot-well, purposefully avoiding looking at what was in front of him through the windshield. The others rolled around in the back of the van, trying to steady themselves as Joe lurched and swerved down the road. It was a small van with small seats and even smaller windows on the side. It did not offer much of a view.

He stuck to the ring road
as planned and the roads gradually became clearer. As they drove, the crashed cars and wrecks became less frequent. Occasionally, they would pass an abandoned car or truck on the side of the road, doors open, and no sign of life. Initially Joe saw zombies wandering around aimlessly, some on the side of the road, some farther afield. Many of them appeared to be young people who should be fit and healthy. Presumably, other zombies had killed them. Despite their young appearance, most had a leg or arm missing, torn clothes and clawed torsos. The further they went, the more the zombies thinned out.

Joe
kept driving past the poor damned souls. He was in a hurry and pretty sure the police had more on their minds than speeding tickets. In fact, he was sure there weren’t even any police left. They had seen no sign of law enforcement at all in the last few days. Civilisation had taken a break from the world. He put his foot down. It was hard to generate much speed though. Invariably, he had to swerve past a vehicle or a body on the road.

He sped
through Heidelberg and down Manningham Road. Everyone crammed in the van was stressed and exhausted from the situation they had inexplicably found themselves in. Nervous, unsettled stomachs were not being helped by being cooped up in the back of an increasingly hot van.

Karyn
was staring out of the window at nothing, eyes vacant, lost in her own thoughts. George was now staring out of the window into space, Joe noticed. If he was looking for answers in the heavens, he thought, he wasn’t going to find any. Evan watched as normality flew past them into the past. He read advertising hoardings and billboards offering cold beer and new cars, prime real estate and cheap cremations. Shops displayed their perfect pizzas and crunchy chicken, all surplus to requirements now; there was nobody to buy them. Joe pulled up on a bridge.

“
We need five minutes,” he announced, and got out. Cars littered the suburbs, but the bridge was deserted. Everyone gratefully got out and stretched their legs.

“I feel sick,” said Lily.
Amane, feeling queasy too, put an arm around her and took her aside for some much needed fresh air. Evan walked over to Joe, who had lit up a cigarette and was leaning over the railing, looking at the river below. The Yarra was sluggish and murky. A small dinghy drifted past, unmoored and free. There was nobody on board to guide it as it slipped away toward the city. The trees should have been vibrant and green but looked limp and sad. The leaves were brown as if it were autumn, not summer.

“Seemed like the best place to stop,” he said, “nothing around for fucking zombies to be hiding in and surprise us.”

“Good point.” Evan cracked open a warm can of coke from a backpack and downed it. Karyn was preening herself in the sun whilst George was casually dropping leaves onto the river below, watching them float slowly away.

“
So who’s the stray?” said Joe. Lily and Amane were walking down the bridge, stretching their legs and their voices, any conversation inaudible from anyone else.

“
Her name’s Lily. She said her mother had gone to church and she’s not seen her since, most likely dead. Her father’s in Canberra. She asked if she could tag along. Couldn’t leave her, could I?”

Joe took a long drag on his cigarette.

“I was thinking we should take the Eastlink, head to Mornington, try our luck there for a boat. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I reckon it’s our best bet.”

The names meant nothing to Evan
, but he trusted Joe. They’d come this far together, unscathed.

“Sounds good.
How long do you think it’ll take us?” Evan was squinting against the sun. It was low in the sky now and the evening was drawing in. He was hoping they would make it to a boat before nightfall.

“Probably a couple of hours,” guessed Joe
, “depends how the roads are or if we run into any more road blocks.” He finished his cigarette and lit up another one.

“If other people had the same idea about getting out of the city, then
chances are the roads are going to get a hell of a lot busier. Plus it’ll be dark in an hour or so. You want to try finding a boat in the dark? Can you even remember how to sail one because I sure don’t know how to. I’m wondering if we shouldn’t try to find somewhere to bed down for the night. Carry on in the morning?”

Evan thought Joe was probably right, but didn’t want to admit it. In the back of the
van, he had been imagining his children, how they would be when he found them. He had assumed they would just jump onto the first boat they found and be in Tasmania by tomorrow. Could he remember how to sail? He trusted that it would just come back to him when he got on board. Suddenly, Charlie and Anna seemed a very long way away.

“What do you say we carry on for a bit, see how far we get in the next hour
or so. If we’re not getting anywhere, we should try to find a quiet house or a motel to stay in. Find one that looks empty and hope no one’s home.”

Joe agreed and asked, “Can you sit up front? I could do with a second pair of eyes.”

“Yeah. Rolling around in the back ain’t much fun anyway. Look, I’ll go fill the others in. When you’re ready we’ll head off.”

Evan walked back to the van and told
Amane and Lily what they were planning. While they were talking, Joe filled in Karyn. Her pacified demeanour surprised him. He had expected a fight, but she just went along with everything he said. It was like she had given up. She didn’t look well, Joe mused. Her face was drawn and her eyes sunken. He put it down to stress and thought no more about it. He reminded her that she had George to look after now, that grieving for Lucy and Pete would have to be saved for another time.

They drove
through small suburbs, once a hive of activity, now ghost towns. They drove past a small rail station and Evan noticed a stationary train, waiting by the platform expectantly. The driver’s door was open and the carriages behind were pregnant with zombies. The driver had apparently escaped and left his passengers to their own fate. Through the doors and windows Evan watched them slowly moving, bloody fingers sliding down the glass, faces pressed up against the doors, frustrated in their permanent tomb. It must have been a hundred degrees inside that carriage. Dead eyes stared back at him, oblivious to the incredible heat that was slowly cooking them.