Dee dropped her shoulder and thumped into Eddie, knocking him off Rachel. Eddie rolled once and leapt into a crouch. The speed of his movements amazed Dee. Eddie snarled and let out another weird shriek. This time, other shrieks answered. Dee glanced at Rachel. Her eyes were wide and she clutched at her handbag, kneading it like it was a lump of dough.
Dee grasped her hand and pulled her back towards the car, all the time keeping an eye on Eddie. He watched them move but made no indication that he was going to charge again. Instead, saliva drooled from the corners of his mouth. That was when Dee noticed his mouth had shrivelled and his lips had turned black.
“Rachel,” Dee whispered, “when I say, run to the car and lock your door.”
“Yup.”
“Now!” Dee cried. She let go of Rachel’s hand and pivoted. Straining, she leapt for her open door. A piercing howl jolted her head up.
Three more figures were sprinting down the road towards them. Rachel let out a scream as Eddie caught her and tackled her to the ground for a second time.
Dee skidded to a stop and changed direction as Rachel disappeared under him. He seemed stronger and more agile now.
“Get off!” she screamed, kicking and punching.
Frantic, Dee searched for a weapon, anything, but came up short. More shrieks filled the air, reminding her of the new threat. She paused. Conflicted, Dee didn’t know what to do. Help Rachel and risk both of them dying, or flee?
She grimaced and slammed into Eddie with her shoulder. There was no way she was going to let her friend down. Eddie rocked back but held on. His movement pushed Dee off balance and she tumbled to the ground, sprawling on the pavement.
Her skin tore on the concrete. Dee winced and shook her head. Rachel had used the distraction to kick Eddie the rest of the way off her. She hoisted Dee to her feet.
The others were only twenty metres away now, their shrieks filling the air with a bone-chilling din.
Dee yanked Rachel’s hand. “Run!”
Dee spotted their destination halfway down the road. She pumped her legs, thankful to Jack for the many hours of hiking up hills. The exercise had conditioned her muscles. She ran faster, hoping Rachel was still behind her.
The thing about being chased is that you enter a surreal state, like an ancient genetic memory that boils up to the surface and forces its way into your mind. Your brain screams, “Flee!” over and over. Adrenaline floods your body, giving muscles new energy.
Dee risked a peek over her shoulder. Half to check on her friend and half to see the location of the creatures that pursued them. Dee shook her head. She was having a hard time comprehending what was happening. So the rumours were true. The virus did something to you. Mutated you into something primeval. Whatever it did, all Dee could think of was “Run!”
Rachel sprinted past her in a burst of speed as they reached her parents’ house. As she made up the last few metres, she fumbled for her keys in her handbag.
“Hurry!” Dee said. She reached Rachel and spun around. The creatures were coming up fast.
“I can’t find the keys!” Rachel screamed, her voice coming out in a high-pitched squeal. She banged her fist against the door, shouting. But the house remained quiet.
Dee picked up the rubbish bin next to the front step and hurled it at the nearest creature. Its yellow eyes flared back at her. The rubbish bin bounced off its head. It had been a man once. Now his skin had a translucent glow to it, showing veins and arteries. He was mostly bald, but she could still see tufts of hair. The man stumbled and tripped over, sprawling on the ground.
“Go!” Dee shouted, cursing to herself. They needed weapons, and fast. They darted down the side of the house and through the wooden side gate, locking it behind them. Immediately the beasts chasing them slammed into the timber. It creaked and wobbled, but held.
“What do we do, Dee?” Rachel whispered.
“We need to hide or find something to fight with, fast.”
“Dad has some tools in his shed,” Rachel said. She gestured at the glasshouse and tin shed in the corner of the section. Large, well-maintained gardens led up to the door.
“That’ll have to do. C’mon,” Dee said.
Dee cast her eyes over the peg board that lined the back wall of the shed. Rachel’s father had every tool she could think of. Garden forks, spades. Dutch hoe. Weird tilling implements. She smiled when she spotted an axe leaning against the bench. Rachel grabbed a machete and hefted it, checking its weight.
Thumps and shrieks echoed around the back yard. Dee felt a little better with something to fight back with. She took a couple of seconds to refocus and pictured her car a couple of hundred metres down the road. She pictured them running to it, getting into it and getting the hell out of here.
“Are you ready?” Dee asked, looking at her friend.
Rachel grimaced, and sighed. “Yeah.”
“We’re going to run out the other gate and get to my car, all right?”
“Okay.”
Dee grasped Rachel’s shoulder. “We have to do it. Okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just scared, Dee. I’m not used to this sort of thing.”
Dee smiled. A soft smile. She knew what Rachel meant. For so long, many humans had lived lives of luxury. Lives that kings from the Middle Ages could only have dreamed of. Medicine. Food. Technology. Flushing toilets. Roads. Everything.
“No one is. But I want to live. To see Jack again. I’m not becoming food for whatever those creatures are.”
Several sounds reached Dee. The gate rattled and splintered. A howl rang out, answered by several shrieks. She ducked below the bench and looked over into the adjacent glasshouse, hoping for somewhere to hide.
Dee spotted a pile of compost and, next to it, potting mix. She crawled over and began to dig as more howls filled the air.
Rachel soon joined her at the task. Within a few seconds, they had made a large enough indent. Dee grabbed some bamboo stakes and shovelled the compost over her legs and torso. The soil caved in, burying them underneath. Dee pushed the bamboo stake out and tested it for air. She couldn’t see her friend in the dark, but she could feel her shaking. Dee shut her eyes and hoped they had done enough.
— 5 —
The chill of the water surprised Jack. It seeped through his soft tissue and into his bones. He could feel his body shaking, trying to warm itself up. If he wasn’t careful, he’d get hypothermia.
He hugged his pack closer to his chest and looked around. The creatures were still following him, their strange yellow eyes watching his every move. They howled and shrieked as they scampered along the banks. Occasionally the trees became too thick for them to follow but Jack could hear them just out of sight. Sometimes a creature would sniff the air and tear off, away from the river, a few of them following after. They could be gone for twenty minutes, sometimes half an hour, but, like terminators, they came back to track him relentlessly in his course down the river.
As Jack floated, he pondered what he knew about the creatures so far. If he was being honest, very little. They were fast. They attacked in a frenzied pack, like land piranhas. Jack barked out a laugh, thinking of a horror movie with flying piranhas he had once watched with his brother.
At least these beasts can’t fly.
He shook his head. He could just picture Dee telling him off for daydreaming about movies and not concentrating on the task ahead of him.
Jack shivered and glanced around. What he needed was a log, anything, to float on, and fast. The banks were clear of the monsters right now as they had run off howling a few minutes earlier, having picked up some scent or other. Jack let out a breath and swam for shore. He aimed for a copse of willow trees and hauled himself out of the river. Water cascaded off his chilled, exhausted body. He picked out a suitable tree for a flotation device and shuffled along the trunk. It was a small tree but it held his weight.