The Bug: Complete Season One (17 page)

Col rocked on his heels, inhaling deeply through his nose. How did he let himself get talked into shit like this?

The top of the escalators was directly ahead, just ten or so meters away. From where he was standing, Col could hear the growling and hissing of the people down on the platforms below. Every instinct was telling him to stay quiet and not let them hear him, but that wasn’t the plan.

Over on the right, Jaden and Mike stood in the elevator, with Mike kneeling in front of them, rifle raised and ready to fire. Jaden gave Col a thumbs-up, then pretended to press the button that would send the lift down. Col almost smiled. Almost, but not quite.

The elevator doors started to close, hit against Mike’s gun, then slid open again. Col exhaled through his mouth.

The plan was simple. Too simple, Col suspected. In fact, he’d barely describe it as a plan at all. It was more a vague notion than an actual fully-developed strategy, and one he felt sure had a very high probability of going wrong.

He was going to get the people downstairs to chase him upstairs. That, in a nutshell, was it. While he drew them away, the others would go down in the elevator, get the train ready to go, change as many of the track points as they could to get them as far south as possible, then Col would race down the escalator to join them.

Col had quickly spotted a few places this could all go terribly wrong. He’d quite forcibly pointed them all out, too, yet here he was, rocking from foot to foot, building up the courage to do his thing.

How did he let himself get talked into shit like this?

He nodded once to Jaden and the others in the elevator, then made his approach to the moving stairs. The sounds of the people below grew louder as he drew closer. He could see some of them now – their feet, at least – shuffling around. He could suddenly feel his own heartbeat. It made his whole body pulse as he stopped at the top of the escalator. He gave a final glance over at the elevator. Amanda smiled at him, but Col couldn’t tell if it was a smile of encouragement or pity.

He took another breath.

He cleared his throat.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Up here.”

The texture of the sound below changed at once. The feet he had seen shuffling around suddenly stopped.

“Come get me,” Col squeaked. He steadied himself and tried again, deeper this time. “Come up and get me.”

And then came the movement. A middle-aged businesswoman, her blouse half-torn off so one bloodied breast hung out, bounded onto the moving steps and scrambled up them on her hands and knees, her face all twisted up in an animal snarl. Behind her, the platform became alive with movement. 

“Shit!” Col spat, turning and sliding on the polished floor. He kicked forwards like a sprinter, hurling himself towards the coffee stand at the far end of the station. The moving stairs launched the businesswoman into a running start, but she had lost a shoe, and her single heel made it difficult for her to keep up the pace.

That wasn’t a problem for the people behind her, though. They barreled right over her, trampling her underfoot as they gave chase. Men, women, children even – their eyes narrowed, their teeth bared.

A guy with a beard and boarder shorts quickly broke ahead of the rest of the pack. Col risked a glance back and felt something cold twist in the pit of his stomach. The beard was new, but he recognized the guy. Dave something, from school. Gatward, that was it.

Dave Gatward, captain of the goddamn sprint team.

Col lowered his head and powered on. He was shouting – a primal bellow from somewhere deep within him – but couldn’t remember when he’d started, or why.  It wasn’t to get the attention of the…
things
behind him - not people now, he finally accepted, not any more – since that mission had well and truly been accomplished.

They were still flooding up the stairs, still trampling over the fallen businesswoman who was now a barely recognizable mush on the floor. Col could hear Dave Gatward right behind him now, could picture his twisted face and clawed hands, could smell – or just feverishly imagine, maybe – the coppery stench of blood on his breath.

The lights flickered, turning the floor ahead into a shadowy landscape of broken glass and wrecked furniture. Col bounded over a toppled chair and skidded on a bloody puddle on the other side. He flailed his arms, his stomach flipping over as he fought for a few frantic seconds to stay on his feet.

The coffee stand was right ahead, but Dave from school was right at his heels, the others just a little behind. Fear drove Col on, bringing with it a turn of speed that could well have challenged Dave Gatward’s captaincy back in the day.

Glancing back, Col saw his old school mate stumble over the chair. He felt a rush of relief. “Fuck you, Dave Gatward!” he howled, then he caught hold of the coffee stand and swung himself round the corner.

A girl, no older than eight or nine, dived from the shadows at the side of the stand. Her teeth sunk into Col’s forearm, and he screamed as he heard his flesh rip open.

* * *

The elevator doors opened. Mike hung back, gun pressed against his shoulder, finger hovering lightly on the trigger. The last few infected were scurrying up the stairs, fixated on the chase above. Jaden moved to step past, but his mom clamped a hand on his arm.

“The bugs,” she whispered. “Where are the bugs?”

Jaden scanned the floor. It was a mess of blood and body parts, but completely bug free, as far as he could tell. “Not here, by the looks of it,” he said.

They crept a few paces out of the elevator, Mike sweeping with the gun, Jaden and Amanda both trying to shield the other from anything that might come leaping at them from nowhere.

“We’re clear,” said Mike. “Your boy did good.”

“You two get to the train,” Amanda urged. She pointed over to a door further along the platform. “I can change most of the points from in there, get us down the track a little way, at least.”

“What? No, I’m not leaving you,” said Jaden. “I thought you said we could change them manually?”

“We can, but it ain’t easy,” said Amanda. “And if those things are chasing us, how are we supposed to get out and flip the switch?” She ushered him towards the purple and silver branded train. Mike was already stalking along the platform, the gun sweeping back and forth with every step. “Go. Hurry. It’ll just take me a minute or so. Go!”

Jaden squeezed his mom’s hand, swore below his breath, then let go. He hurried past Mike until he reached the first train door and almost laughed with relief when he saw the glow of the orange ring around the button.

He pressed the button. For a long time, nothing seemed to happen. He was about to press it again when the doors opened with a hydraulic hiss. “Yeah, bitch!” he said, but the sound of Col screaming cut his celebration short.

“Shit,” Jaden hissed, springing back towards the escalators. Mike stepped in front, blocking his path.

“Don’t,” Mike warned. “You can’t help him.”

“What? Says who? I can try,” Jaden said. He tried to dodge past, but Mike caught him by his neck and shoved him along the platform in the direction of the open train door.

“Says me. If he’s been caught, he’s dead, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it,” Mike growled. “Get on the train and we can still get out of here.”

Jaden stared past Mike, up to where the escalators rolled into the station above. Col’s scream had stopped as suddenly as it started, but Jaden could still hear the zombies up there, snarling and growling and whatever the Hell else they were doing.

“He’s going to die up there,” Jaden said, forcing the words through his tightening throat. “He’s going to fucking die!”

“He’s dead already,” Mike snapped. “Sorry to be harsh, but that’s the way it is.” He motioned with the rifle. “On the train. Move!”

A
clanking
sound in the tunnel ahead made Mike snap round with the rifle. “It’s the points,” Jaden said. “On the track. My mom must’ve changed them.”

Sure enough, the door to the control room opened and Amanda hurried out. Jaden glanced between her and the escalators, urging her on. If the zombies came back down now, she was done for.

She made it across the platform and took hold of his face in her hands. “Told you I’d only be a minute,” she said. Amanda glanced back at the stairs. “Any sign of Col?”

Jaden shook his head. “There was… He screamed. We heard him scream.”

Amanda’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh. Oh Lord.” She crossed herself and cast her eyes Heavenward for the briefest of moments. “What do we do?”

“We get on the train and go,” said Mike. “He knew the risks. What’s done is done.”

Jaden felt his hands ball into fists. “What’s done is done? That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?” he spat.

“Ain’t any more to say,” Mike said. “I’m sorry for your loss. Now get--”

“
Get on the fucking train
!”

Jaden spun to see Col taking the escalator stairs two at a time. He was clutching his arm and blood seeped through his fingers, but other than that he looked to be in one piece.

“Yeah, who’s dead now, bitch?” laughed Jaden, slapping Mike on the chest. “Mom, get on and start this thing up. We’re going to roll on out of here!”

Jaden laughed again, but his face fell when he saw the cluster of shapes all cramming onto the escalator behind Col. Most of them stumbled and collapsed, screeching and squealing in rage. Some guy with a hipster beard had reached the stairs first, though, and was bounding down right at Col’s back.

“Hurry the fuck up!” Jaden shouted. Col glanced back briefly as he jumped the last few steps, then made the final mad dash to the train. The others darted inside just ahead of him as he launched himself through. Jaden slammed his palm against the
Door Close
button.

Once again, the door spent a long time thinking about how to respond. “Hurry up and fucking close!” Jaden hissed. The guy chasing Col was barely a couple of meters away now, and man, did he look pissed. Mike raised the rifle. The beard arrived just as the door swished closed.

“Mom, go get us moving,” Jaden instructed. “Mike go with her just in case there’s anyone up there.”

“You’re not in charge here,” Mike reminded him.

“Mike,” said Amanda. “Shut up and come with me.”

Muttering, Mike followed Amanda along the train, leaving Jaden and Col to watch the platform fill up with misshapen figures. The bearded guy smashed his face against the glass door, just like Wayne had done back at the store. Either he wasn’t as dedicated to the cause as Wayne had been, or his beard was cushioning him, because his face didn’t implode anything like the same way Wayne’s had done.

Jaden frowned and stepped closer to the glass. “Holy shit,” he said. “Is that… Is that Dave Gatward?”

Col nodded. “Yep.”

“Sprint team, Dave Gatward?”

“Yep.”

For a moment, Col thought he saw something wriggling inside Dave’s mouth, like his tongue had split into several long strands, each one moving independently of the other. But then Dave smashed his face on the glass again, and whatever Col had seen was gone again.

The train rumbled beneath them. They gazed out at the faces and clawed hands pressing against the windows until the train pulled slowly away from the platform.

“Dave fucking Gatward,” Jaden said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I know, right?” agreed Col. “Dave fucking Gatward.”

Daniel cupped his hands between his eyes and the glass of the store window and peered inside. He’d expected to find the place ransacked, but the shelves seemed to be well stocked, and nothing was obviously out of place.

“Looks OK,” he announced. “No-one in there, as far as I can tell.”

Marshall rattled the door. “Looks like it’s locked,” he said.

“I can see why you made detective,” said Daniel, bending to pick up a rock. He took aim at the glass, but Marshall stopped him before he could let fly.

“What are you doing? You’ll break the window.”

“Well, yes. That’s the point,” said Daniel. “We need to get inside.”

“But not… We can’t just break in,” Marshall protested. “We’re not looters. I’m in the police.”

Daniel shrugged. “OK. Tell you what, you shoot off and get a warrant or whatever, and I’ll wait here until you get back. In the meantime, Immy can starve.”

Marshall opened his mouth to protest, realized there were no words coming to mind, and sighed. “Fine. Aye. Whatever. Do it,” he said. “But if anyone asks, I did my best to stop you.”

“Fair enough,” said Daniel. He hefted the rock in his hands a couple of times, then hurled it at the door. The stone punched a jagged hole through the glass, and splintered the rest of the pane into a spider’s web. Reaching through, Daniel found the lock, turned it, then pulled the door wide. “After you, Martin,” he said, gesturing for Marshall to lead the way.

Marshall glanced around to make sure no-one was watching, then stepped through into the store. The lights were off, and the sky outside was overcast, so much of the place was in near darkness. Even in the gloom, though, it looked much like any other corner shop or supermarket.

Yesterday’s newspapers slouched on the racks just inside the door. Over on the right stood the cash register, half-hidden by chocolate bars and racks of gum.

Three aisles led up towards the back of the store. Daniel glanced up them all from the bottom, looking for anything that might suggest baby supplies.

“Here,” he announced, pacing along the middle aisle and picking up a pack of diapers.

“Should I get a carrier bag or something?” Marshall asked.

“The bread trays. Grab those,” Daniel said, pointing to a stack of crumb-filled plastic trays. Marshall picked them up and hurried to Daniel’s side.

“What size of nappies do we need?” Marshall asked.

“I don’t know. Baby-sized,” said Daniel.

“Well I’m hardly going to take adult-sized, am I? They’re all baby-sized.”

“I meant the smallest ones, not toddler-sized.” Daniel shrugged. “But just take all of them to be on the safe side.”

Between them, they set about filling the trays with packs of diapers and tins of baby formula.  When they’d almost emptied the shelves, Marshall glanced around at the rest of the shop.

“Should we take, I don’t know, other stuff?” he asked. “Like food and that?”

“Getting right into the spirit of this looting malarkey now, aren’t you?” Daniel said. “Food might not be a bad idea. Don’t know how long this’ll all take to get sorted out.”

“Right,” said Marshall. He adjusted the placement of the tins in his tray. “You think it will? Get sorted out, I mean?”

Daniel puffed out his cheeks. “I hope so, bud. I hope so.”

Five minutes later, they’d filled all nine trays and a couple of cardboard boxes with food. They’d gone for the tinned and packaged stuff, mostly, but Daniel had been unable to resist taking the store’s one and only tub of cookie-dough ice cream, which now sat proudly atop one of the piles like a crown.

“Let’s get this stuff back,” said Daniel. “We can always come back here for more.”

They picked up the two heaviest crates and waddled out of the store with them, heading for the car.

Daniel was the first to spot the men standing in a half-circle formation around them. All six of them were dressed for combat, with bulletproof vests over their green camouflage, and helmets strapped low on their head. The soldiers trained serious-looking rifles on Daniel and Marshall as they shuffled out from inside the store.

“Have you got the car keys?” Marshall asked, then he stopped when he saw the men. “Don’t shoot!” he yelped, dropping his crate and raising his hands. Twenty tin cans jumped out of the crate as it hit the ground, and rolled back into the store.

“Are you infected?” demanded one of the men. He looked a little older than the others, and the gold pips on his shoulder suggested he was in charge.

“No!” Marshall said. “No, we’re not… I don’t…” He glanced around at the soldiers and swallowed nervously. “Infected by what?”

“The bugs,” barked the officer. “Have you come into contact with the bugs?”

Marshall opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it.

“No,” Daniel said. “What bugs? We haven’t seen any bugs.”

He bent to lower the crate to the ground, but froze when the guns that had previously been trained on Marshall suddenly trained on him instead.

“Don’t move,” the officer warned. Daniel raised his eyes to look at him.

“This is really heavy,” he said. “Can I put it down?”

The officer eyeballed him for a few seconds, then gave a nod. “Who are you?”

Daniel set his crate down, then straightened up and looked at Marshall expectantly. Marshall blinked a few times, then gave himself a shake. “Oh, right, aye. I’m DI Martin Marshall of Police Scotland. Greater Glasgow area usually, but, you know. What with everything. We made a run for it up here.”

“Well that was full of authority,” Daniel muttered.

“Police, eh?” said the officer. He indicated the store behind them. “Proceeding with your enquiries, were you?”

Marshall felt himself blush. “We’ve got people nearby. A baby. And some others. We needed to get stuff.”

The officer bent and picked up Daniel’s ice cream. “A baby, eh?”

“Yeah. And some others,” said Marshall. They all stood in silence for a few seconds. Marshall felt the need to stand up straight as the army man looked him up and down.

“Lieutenant Sweeney,” the officer said, setting the ice cream tub down again, much to Daniel’s relief. “We’re headed for the hotel a few miles back down the road. Inverlochy Castle. You see it on the way in?”

Daniel nodded. “I saw the sign, yeah.”

“Get your people and bring them there,” Sweeney instructed. “There are more of us there already. Hopefully we can get this thing figured out, eh?”

Marshall nodded quickly. “Aye. Aye, that would be magic. We’ll go get them now. We’ll be right there.”

Sweeney nodded, then gestured for his men to lower their weapons. They weren’t actually all men at all, Marshall realized. There was at least one woman in the group, hidden beneath all the armor. He felt the need to smile at her as she let her gun drop to her waist, then worried he was being sexist and ended up shooting her a scowl instead.

“What the fuck did you do that for, Martin?” he whispered to himself, as the woman scowled back, before she lined up with the rest of her squadron.

“The castle. You’ll be safe there,” Sweeney said. Then, with a series of short, sharp commands, he led the squad out onto the main road, and they all broke into a neatly regimented jog.

“He seemed alright, didn’t he?” Marshall said, watching them go.

“Yeah. He didn’t try to kill us, which makes him an improvement on most folk we’ve met lately,” Daniel said, stooping to pick up his tray. “Are we going to go? To the hotel, I mean?”

Marshall shrugged. “It’s a castle. Bound to be safer than Hoon’s sister’s house, isn’t it?”

Daniel nodded. “Suppose,” he said. “Now let’s get this stuff back before my ice cream melts.”