Struggle (The Hibernia Strain) (5 page)

The two glassy eyed freaks stand there momentarily
, calculating their approach. Neither of them is showing any major signs of deformation so they’re only sired a short while.

They must have decided
my uncle doesn’t pose any threat in his wheelchair, as they both slowly advance towards me. I have two choices, fight or flight.

To flee means leaving my uncle to face a grizzly end
, but on the other hand, to fight doesn’t guarantee me a safe outcome.

The urge to
run is tempting, but even after all I’ve gone through recently I don’t think I’m so void of compassion that I’d leave him to that fate.

Th
e decision is made. My actions are lightning fast. My body moves before my mind even gets a chance to strategise. I lunge straight towards my adversaries.

For once I’
m acting on the front foot. I’ll be the attacker instead of being defensive. My explosive jolt forward means I’ve taken them by surprise. The first target to come within range doesn’t even have time to react, as I swipe upwards with my right arm and drive the blade through the soft flesh underneath the chin.

O
n contact I push harder, wedging it in even deeper, past the tongue and through the roof of the mouth until it comes to a stop.

I hold it there for a moment
, until lifelessness causes the body to weigh down on my arm, at which point I let go, leaving the knife lodged.

As he falls, I simultaneous sway
my body sideways to avoid an outreaching arm, and extend the gun until it touches against the face of the second before pulling the trigger.

The face disintegrates on impact and the second corps
e collapses just like the first, well and truly disconnected from life. The gun now empty of ammo serves no further use to me, so I toss it on the pile.

There
’s no time to pause and celebrate. Where there are two, there’s probably more. I spin around and look at my uncle. He’s cowering, looking shocked. He doesn’t know what’s just happened and is obviously shaken up.

“Don
’t be afraid. Everything’s ok.”

He
nods, but I can clearly see he’s as unsure of me as anything else. I guess I can’t blame him. After all, I’m some random stranger that just showed up out of the blue and killed two people.

What’s my next move?
I’m not able to take him in his chair out through the hole in the garden fence. And even if I did somehow manage to get him to the jeep, there’s no way that I’ll be able to lift him up into the seat all by myself. I also can’t just leave him here. I’ve got to try at least.

“Ok Joe we
’re going to go for a drive to get some tea,” I lie.

“Oh that’s
nice,” he answers, a smile stretching from ear to ear.

It didn
’t take him long to get over his apprehensiveness.

“Are they coming too?” he queries, pointing over at the recently deceased.

“Ah no, I think they want to have a little nap.”

He believes my ludicrous explanation
, and starts nattering away to himself about looking forward to his tea.

He seems to be suffering from a higher level of dementia then I had first realised. Surely he sh
ould be in a nursing home. The Teresa woman might be some sort of live in minder. I don’t know the answer, and I guess it’s not really important now anyway.

I take his wheelchair by the handles and push him towards the front door.

“Are we going now?” he asks.

I confir
m with an inattentive, “Uh huh.”

“We better tell Teresa that we
’re off.”

“It
’s ok I already did.”

At the front door I undo the lock
, but leave it on the latch so I’ll be able to open it from outside.

“I
’ll be back in a minute okay.”

He doesn
’t seem to be paying much attention now and doesn’t respond. I leave him there muttering to himself as he straightens up his clothes to look respectable before he goes outside.

I run as fast as I can through the house, out to the garden. Everywhere is dead quiet. It
’s eerie. I wriggle under the fence, and wade through the mucky undergrowth once again.

Once the jeep is in range
, I avoid the horror movie cliché of fumbling around with keys trying to unlock the door by simply pressing the button on the key fob.

The lights flash once as the doors unlock. I jump in and resist the urge to tear off at full speed
, alerting anything nearby to the sound of a roaring engine.

I slowly make
my way across the green area back to the road. My heart is pounding from the adrenaline, but it starts beating even faster as the front of the house comes into view.

The whole front of the estate is swarming
with infected, several of whom are converging on the house.

The front door is open
, but there’s no sign of my uncle, just his empty wheelchair. The bastards have him. It’s too late to do anything. I’m powerless to help yet again.

I never thought I
’d feel saddened over him dying. Although I can’t say for sure if he’s dead or one of them. It’s the same difference though; being turned into one of those goons is on par with death or maybe even worse again.

That way of thinking was before today
. Seeing him in such a decrepit state has helped me to actually forgive him. But is it real forgiveness or just pity? Does true forgiveness come so swiftly? Either way, I’ve gone and messed up again. He’s another person I’ve failed to save.

No wait, I couldn
’t have saved him.

I have to be realistic. There
’s no tactic I could have used that would have ended up with things playing out any differently.

I don
’t stop outside the house, there’s no point. Instead I put my foot down and crush my way through the walking scourge littering the street. I make it to the main road without any problems as the jeep is more than a match for my fleshy opponents.

How I
’ve changed from the encounter after leaving Emma’s apartment. The guilt I felt after mowing down my first two victims consumed me to a state of rage.

This time I remained unfazed as I smashed through multiple victims. I don
’t feel anything anymore. Have I become completely desensitised to the killing? Did I finally enter a state, in which I realise it’s survival or nothing.

Society is gone and it isn
’t coming back, so I may as well be barbaric. There’s nobody to judge me anymore.

God damn
ed, I’m starting to sound like Shawn!  

This could be a good thing. I can allow myself to be ruthless
, just as long as I don’t forget to be sensible at the same time. There’s no point in having made it this far just to go and die by throwing caution to the wind and getting myself into a stupid unwinnable situation.

T
his new version of me will be well capable of protecting Emma and Shawn. Now all I have to do is find them.

I know the general location and name of
Emma’s farm, but it’s going to be tough finding it in the dark. I guess I don’t really have any other option but to go looking for it. I’ll alter my direction at the next crossroads and head to where I presume it should be.

I hit my full beams and motor into the night. If I drive up every back road in the area
where Emma’s from I’ll eventually get there. Patience is all I need. Patience and petrol and for the moment I have plenty of both.

I
’m coming Emma. Just wait a little longer.

4

I’ve being criss-crossing the countryside for what feels like an eternity. Every road is starting to look the same, and the hedgerows are all starting to meld into one long continuous green streak. Dawn has broken, making it easier to distinguish between the different road signs and landmarks.

Glimpsing
down at my fuel gauge I see it’s still healthy enough with a quarter of a tank remaining. As I return my gaze to the road I slam on the brakes and do a double take at an expensive looking post-box to my left. My fatigued eyes slowly trace each letter printed on its body until they spell out the name of my destination.

I’ve finally struck it lucky
, very lucky! I could easily have missed it if I had blinked. The post-box is standing beside the entrance to a long drive way that leads up to a beautifully architected house.

I turn into the driveway and speed towards the house. The nearer it gets, the more dismaye
d I’m becoming. There are no signs to indicate anybody staying here. No cars are to be seen and the house is locked up.

What if they didn’t make it?

Panicked, I honk my horn as I’m pulling into the front yard. Not two iotas of a fuck do I give, as I hop out and start banging on the front door. If they aren’t alive then I don’t care if I attract every last infected mutant in the country.

I’m about to bang again when the barrel
of a rifle slides through the letter box and prods me in the gut.

“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot I’m not sick.”

Taking a step back I reiterate my plea.

“Prove it and sit your ass down over there on the gravel, away from your jeep.”

I’d know that voice a mile away.

“Shawn it
’s me, Matt. Look it’s me. I’m fine for God’s sake.”

“Fuck sake Matt would ya just sit down.”

I don’t know what’s going on but I suppose I can’t blame him for being extra careful.

“Okay okay I’m moving.”

I back away slowly, the gun following my every move. As I sit down the gun is retracted back inside and I hear several bolts snapping unlocked.

The door
opens gingerly and Shawn emerges, gun in hand aimed right at me.

“Show me your arms.”

I figure out straight away that he’s looking for zombie bites or their resulting bloody sores. My arms aren’t in bad condition, so I roll up my sleeves revealing the untainted skin.

What has me worried is if he asks to see my torso. He might just panic
upon seeing the gouge on my side.

“Okay good now take off your top and let
’s see the rest of ya.”

“Shawn, really?”

“Stop fucking around and do it already.”

Oh cock, I’m in trouble now.

I’m just beginning to unzip my hoody when I hear Shawn scowling, “Come back dammit,” as Emma breezes passed him and throws herself on top of me.

“Matt it’s you, it’s
really you. I knew you’d come.”

She starts sobbing with what I hope is joy. I look over at Shawn who has now lowered the gun and is shaking his head while muttering something
along the lines of, “Why even bother with safety measures.”

M
y hands are still shaking with a combination of nervousness from Shawn’s cautious greeting and delight that my companions have managed to keep themselves alive. That topped off with the fact Emma is hugging me so hard she’s probably cutting off the supply of blood to my extremities.

I look her straight in the face and while
offering a smile I whisper, “It’s good to see you too!”

T
his only causes her to squeeze tighter, as tears continue rolling down her cheeks. Examining her face, it’s clear to see the outbreak has taken its toll on her, not just physically but mentally too.

Sadness is etched dee
p into her features, accompanied by multiple cuts and scratches. Her eyes appear dull and have lost the special sparkle that used to light them up. She doesn’t seem like herself anymore.

“Okay if it’s alright
with you two can we please move the jeep out of sight and get inside,” says Shawn breaking up the reunion.

His abrupt and pushy attitude immediately triggers a signal
that something is going on, something I don’t know about. While he usually can act like an asshole, he’s behaving more like a condescending dick now.

Emma helps me up and we walk over to the jeep.
I usher her into the driver seat to steer while myself and Shawn push it. At least this way the engine won’t be echoing across the countryside again.

We manoeuvre it around
to the back of the house and park it up alongside what’s left of Shawn’s shiny new pickup.

Jesus it’s been through the mill, whatever happened there.

Standing up I stretch out my back. I look over at Shawn. He smirks back and says, “It’s good to see ya buddy.”

That’s a bit more like norma
l, but I can tell there’s something bothering him. His full concentration isn’t on me and he keeps making fleeting glances in Emma’s direction.

Di
d something happen between them?

I don’t have time to dwell on it however
, as Emma is out of the jeep, and taking me by the hand she drags me indoors.

The inside of the
house is dim. All of the blinds are closed and curtains pulled tight. Shawn locks the door behind us making it even dimmer.

As I stand in the hallway I can make out various unfamiliar faces peering out at me from inside the next room. It looks like Shawn and
Emma have picked up a few companions along the way.

Suddenly, a
little kid pops out from amongst the others asking no one in particular, “Is it them?” but quickly halts and slinks back when he realises I’m not who he was hoping me to be.

“Hi”, I say, a little
bemused.

The other faces don’t speak
to me. Instead they whisper between themselves and frown. I guess I can’t blame them for being hesitant.

I glance over at
Emma.

“Should I ask?”

“I wouldn’t. C’mon,” she insists practically pushing me up a flight of stairs.

I’m not sure what to think exactly, it seems kind of rude and unorthodox
leaving everyone there like that, but I apparently have no say in the matter.

We
go into a bedroom. It’s obviously Emma’s as there are dozens of pictures of her with friends from her teenage years.

She stands in close to me, just like
when we first met in the alleyway, and bursts out crying. Burying her face into my chest she sobs uncontrollably. I don’t question it; instead I try to comfort her as best I can by holding her tightly.

My head is a maze of confusion try
ing to figure out what could have worked her up so much, but I keep drawing a blank.

By now she’s so upset
her body is literally lurching. I try to calm her by planting a delicate kiss on her forehead. This tactic works well. Too well in fact as the tears stop flowing long enough for her to put her hands either side of my face and pull me in for a long lingering kiss.

I’m really uncertain how to react. I don’t
want to take advantage of her when she’s so upset, but if this is what she wants then who am I to stop her.

We continue kissing, all the time becoming more and more passionate. Tears quickly give way to looks of lust and without much effort my jeans are soon around my ankles and
Emma’s are flung to the other side of the room. I skilfully unhook her bra one handed and pull it off from underneath her t-shirt.

Unlike our previous encounter there’s no heed for foreplay this time.
Our bodies move closer and closer until I slide inside her without hesitation, despite the lack of protection. There’s nothing romantic about it. It’s simply physical desire and a want for comfort, a basic need for some human contact. 

The act of
raunchiness is over quickly. Emma having already had an orgasm lets me know it’s my turn. I don’t hold back and my body writhes in pleasure as I cum.

I’m feeling thoroughly satisfied but slightly lightheaded
, so I pull my clothes back on and lie down on the bed.

I watch as
Emma nonchalantly gets dressed before lying down next to me. She nestles up against me on her side and rests her arm across my chest.

“What’s going on around here?” I break the silence.

Emma remains quiet.

I try again, “Did something happen with Shawn?”

She holds her tongue, but her facial reaction to my question betrays her vow of silence. Something did happen and it evidently wasn’t good.

She clearly doesn’t feel like talking
, so I don’t push my line of questioning any further. Instead, I pull her in closer and shut my eyes. I’ll sleep now. It feels like forever since I rested and now is a prime opportunity. I can sleep now and catch up with Shawn later to solve this overhanging mystery.

Emma
has no intention of doing likewise though. Despite the fact my eyes aren’t open, I can sense that hers are. I can hear her blinking in the overwhelming quietness of the house.

I can’t pass up this opportunity
to get a bit of shut eye, so I decide to be selfish and leave her to figure out what she wants to tell me and when. There will be plenty of time now we’re all back together again.

I drift off to sleep to the sound of
her heartbeat drumming a lullaby.