Breakout, Page 2

  I couldn’t drag my vision away from the zombies’ cold, grey eyes. There were two men and one woman. The woman looked like she had taken the least damage out of the three, but her clothes were torn and dirty. One of the men had a chunk of flesh missing from his forehead, while the other had lost an eye, an ear, and wore a ragged rip down one cheek. His face oozed a dark green puss as he snapped his teeth at us.

  “You know what to do, boys,” Bateman instructed, and three of his men leapt onto the car bonnets. In seconds, all three zombies were dispatched, blades driven through their skulls and left for dead on the ground.

  “Sir,” I said. “If the faster zombies come back, blocking the road like this is going to make no difference.”

  Bateman sighed. “When was the last time you saw one of the Remakes, kid? When was the last time our scouting parties saw one?”

  It had been at least two weeks since we’d seen anything but a Romero; that much I knew. It had been a little over a month since I had returned to the stadium with Robbie, and while there had still been attempts by the undead to breach the walls and the roof of the Stadium during that first week, they had soon stopped. Then there were less and less zombies on the streets outside until, finally, all that were seen were the Romeroes: slow-moving, unthinking, brain dead and driven by hunger.

  “I still think they’re out there,” I said.

  “Maybe you’re right, but for now, they’re not bothering us and we have to take advantage of that. Look, kid, it’s not like anyone is saying things are going back to normal, but we have to make the most of what we can.”

  Chris sauntered over to us. “We beat them once and we’ll beat them again,” he sneered.

  “We beat them when they were all sluggish, but now—”

  Captain Bateman cut me off. “But now we need to get the supplies back to the stadium. I’m not refereeing another argument. You’ve got your orders. Now let’s move before we attract any more of those things.”

  I grabbed the handle of an overflowing trolley and started pushing the food back the way we had come. Chris brought his trolley alongside mine.

  “You need to remember how lucky you are to be on the inside, kid.”

  “I do. I didn’t mean to—”

  “To what? Put the lives of everyone in that stadium at risk? Your disregard for your own life is one thing, but if you put me at risk, I won’t hesitate to put you down. Bateman may think you’re some kind of hero for the stunt you pulled, but just remember, the general still thinks you’re a liability. All that effort and you saved one life. Just think about the people you left behind.”

  But I did think about them. Every single day.

  “If you make one mistake, the general will make you wish I’d shot you when I had the chance.”

  I kept my mouth shut. It was pointless trying to argue with him. I knew the general didn’t like me. He’d made that clear the moment I’d arrived back at the stadium.

  4

  We approached the entrance to the stadium. The sniper was still in place and he pivoted his rifle towards us. I raised my arms and showed them my hands. Robbie copied me.

  ‘We’re human!’ I shouted, and we began to walk forward to the manhole cover.

  ‘We’re human,’ I said again, and then there were more faces at the window and the rifle had been placed aside. I was sure I heard someone say ‘he’s back.’

  I knelt down and lifted the iron cover. I took Robbie’s hand and guided him into position so he could safely make his way down the ladder. He looked past me, back the way we had come.

  ‘Dad?’ he said.

  I looked over my shoulder and saw Nick, alone, watching us.

  ‘No,’ I said, choosing to misunderstand Robbie’s question. ‘But I hope I’ll do for now’.

  I placed my hand on Robbie’s shoulder and gently encouraged him to descend the ladder. From above me I heard voices again, and then a shot rang out, followed closely by another. When I looked back along the street, Nick, zombie Nick, was gone. I followed Robbie down into the sewer, pulling the metal hatch into place as I went, making sure it clanged neatly into its housing.

  In the darkness I could hear Robbie crying at the foot of the ladder. I dropped to his side and hugged him. I wanted to tell him everything would be okay, but what kind of liar would I be if I did? He had seen his sisters and father killed only for them to return as the living dead, with his dad hunting us until the man realized that he couldn’t kill his own son.

  I was too confused to do anything but hold the boy close to me and let him weep. Not only had the zombies become faster, more effective killing machines, but now it seemed they had developed intelligence and reasoning, recognizing the life they had lived before they had turned. A noise further along the sewage tunnel dragged me back into the present, and I reached into my pocket and pulled out the cigarette lighter.

  The flickering flame guided us towards another set of steps, the steps I had used to exit the stadium. The noise I’d heard had been the manhole cover being removed. Light from above spilt down, and a single voice spoke to us as we approached.

  “Come up one at a time and do as you are instructed! If you do not follow orders, you will be shot!”

  I dropped the lighter and took Robbie by the shoulders.

  “Just do as they say,” I murmured to him. “You’ll be okay.”

  He began to cry harder, muttering the word Dad over and over again until I had to shake him.

  “You’ll be safe once you go up the steps. Please, Robbie. You have to go.”

  Tears streaming down his face and legs shaking, he pushed himself upwards. I listened, my unsteady hands gripping the rungs of the ladder. Facing up to the dead was one thing, but the living could be far more frightening.

  “Stand against the wall!” the voice snapped.

  I tensed as Robbie whimpered.

  “Take your clothes off now! Turn around! Are you bitten? Are you bitten?”

  I thought I heard Robbie’s muted reply. I hoped I heard him say at least something, or I feared the next sound I’d hear would be a gunshot. I knew how the Army had dealt with situations like this before.

  From where I was stood, I could not see the main door, but now a few soldiers came into my line of vision. Even though the door was closed, they still trained their weapons in its direction as the metal was pummeled with what I could only assume to be the fists of the dead outside.

  ‘It’ll hold,’ said the authoritative voice that had demanded the doors be closed in the first place.

  And then, from a seemingly younger soldier, the worst words possible:

  ‘Sir, I’ve been bitten.’

  The troops that I could see tensed and backed off. A couple of them dropping into firing position and they raised the sights of their guns up to eye level. The hammering at the door continued. More people crowded around where I was stood.

  ‘Oh please, please,’ came the younger voice, and then a louder ‘No!’

  I’m sorry, son.’

  The echo of the discharged bullet rang around the stadium.

  “You! Get up here!”

  For a moment, I didn’t realize they were hollering at me.

  “Move it, before we shut you down there!”

  I clambered up to the top of the steps and into the toilet block. Ten soldiers had their guns trained on me. I ignored them as best I could and scanned the room for Robbie. He was huddled in a corner of the room, crying as he pulled his clothes back on. I took a step towards him.

  “Move another inch and we’ll open fire! Take your clothes off!”

  I shed my clothes as quickly as I could, turning around with my arms raised to show I hadn’t been bitten.

  Somewhere in the distance I heard a voice say ‘clear,’ and then my knees gave out and I sank to the floor. The tiles below me swam before my eyes and I thought I was going to be sick. I heard footsteps approach from along the corridor and the soldiers snapped to attention, their heels clicking hard on the fl
oor. I glanced up, sweat stinging my eyes, and saw the soldier I had earlier assumed to be in charge. He was short and powerfully built. He reminded me of the prisoner zombie who had assumed command on the bridge back in Usk. He wore his Army camouflage cap low over his face. It didn’t fully hide the deep scar that ran down his forehead.

  “Are they infected?” he asked, his right hand resting on the grip of his sidearm.

  “Sir, no, sir,” came the sharp response. “General Rogers, they are both clear.”

  “Do you realize you put the lives of everyone in this stadium at risk?” he snarled, advancing upon me. I cowered, expecting him to punch me, but instead he unbuckled his holster and placed the barrel of his gun under my chin. He forced my head up so I was looking him right in the eye. Behind me, Robbie gasped. The metal felt cold against my skin and I realized it could be the last sensation I ever knew.

  “I can help,” I managed to utter through my gritted teeth.

  He dug the barrel ever harder against my skin.

  “What help can you be, boy?”

  “I made it back, didn’t I?” I implored. “They’re different now, they’re changing. I can help!”

  He shoved me over and I fell onto my back. I expected him to shoot then. Instead, he slipped his gun away. His eyes, dark and filled with anger a moment before, became bright and alert as the hint of a smile played across his lips. The index finger of his left hand briefly touched the scar on his forehead.

  “Yes, maybe you can. Get dressed. If you know so much then maybe I’ve got just the job for you.”

  5

  My initial guess of how many people were inside the stadium was massively overestimated. When I had first wandered down into the stands surrounding the pitch, I had assumed at least a thousand people had been down there, but as one of the soldiers led me and Robbie up several flights of stairs, we were told that there were in fact fewer than four hundred civilian survivors.

  “And how many soldiers are there?” I asked. Robbie was silent next to me, his head down.

  The trooper didn’t answer.

  “A hundred? Hundred and fifty?”

  He stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. He was much younger than I thought, probably the same age as me.

  “Listen, we’re doing the best we can, okay?” he snapped.

  “Hey, I understand that. I was just--—”

  “There are forty-five of us, plus a couple of officers. If you think we’re going to be bursting out of here, wiping out those things, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

  He marched on, signaling for us to follow. I couldn’t believe what I had heard. It was no surprise that their general had chosen not to shoot me. They needed every able body they could find.

  The soldier led us along a carpeted corridor until he reached a set of double doors.

  “You’ll be bunking down in here. I’ll bring you some bedding later.”

  “So no one is down on the pitch anymore?” I asked. I wanted to keep him chatting to see if I could get him to lower his defenses. I needed more information.

  “No. Once General Rogers found these offices and executive boxes, he moved everyone up here and closed off the pitch. He was worried the zombies would break in through the roof. Basically, what we have here is the most secure donut in the country.”

  Robbie finally spoke. “What do you mean?”

  The soldier pointed along the corridor. “This runs right the way around the pitch, but the doors are heavy and secure, so even if anything does get in through the roof, you’re safe in here.”

  I smiled. “Thanks for that. After all he’s been through, it’s important that he knows he’s finally safe.”

  “Go inside now,” we were told. The soldier avoided my grateful expression. “The general will want to see you soon.”

  Great, I thought as he strode away. There’s something to look forward to.

  I opened the door and led Robbie inside. There were six other people already in the room, which had large, thick glass windows looking out over the pitch. With the roof closed and lights extinguished, it was as dark as night out there—except for the dim glow thrown out by quarters like ours all the way around the ‘donut’ the soldier had described. Any furniture that had been in the room had been cleared out, but a few rows of plastic seats mounted on solid metal bases were situated up towards the glass. Two men were asleep under blankets while another man sat with a woman and a younger girl. They looked like they were a family who had managed to stay together through the carnage. The final inhabitant was a woman sat close to the window alone. She didn’t look at us when we came in. I introduced Robbie and myself to the adults with the child. They looked up at us from their place on the floor with welcoming, if nervous, smiles. The man was in his late thirties, the woman was short and overweight, and the little girl had blonde, curly hair.

  “I’m Bill, this is my wife Amanda. And that’s our daughter, Emma.”

  When they confirmed they were a family I saw Robbie’s face begin to crumple, and with a subtle excuse I led him to the corner of the room.

  “I’m your family now, Rob,” I told him, thinking of Nick, thinking of Danny, trying not to think of the poor kid’s sisters.

  “Maybe…maybe Dad can be fixed… You know…cured?” he asked. I hoped my face didn’t show how cold my heart had suddenly become at the mention of that word.

  “And the girls too?” he finished.

  He paused, clearly wanting me to say something positive, supportive, but before I had chance to even think of what would be the right response, he began to speak again in a conspiratorial whisper.

  “Because he’s different, isn’t he? He didn’t kill us, he knew…”

  His words carried on, but I could no longer hear them. I didn’t need to hear them. This was an argument I’d had with myself about my own brother. How I would keep him safe until the cure was found, how I would protect him, stop him from being executed because he was different than the rest of those things; because he was Danny, because he was my brother, because…

  I had hoped, but I was wrong. Even though I knew the truth, I still wanted my brother back with me. I knew the truth—I knew it again and again every time Captain Mitchell’s words echoed in my mind.

  “For the record, killing them was our only choice. In the time since the first victims came to our attention, our scientists have found nothing to indicate a cure.”

  “Please, Matt,” Robbie was sobbing. “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’ll stop talking about Dad now. I know he was your friend too, and I just…”

  Once again, I had let my own selfishness take over when someone else needed me. When Nick had needed me, I had shoved his friendship away. When other people had talked of their loss, I had only paid them any attention because soon it would be my turn to talk. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake with Robbie. I hadn’t been able to save Danny. I’d not brought Nick and his daughters to safety, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to fail this kid.

  “You talk about him all you need to,” I said.

  Robbie sniffed. “My mom is still out there somewhere too,” he breathed.

  I put my arm around Robbie and he rested his head against my shoulder. We sat without speaking, and after a few short minutes I was surprised to see that he had fallen asleep. He must have been wiped out.

  Now that I was finally alone with my thoughts, the guilt I had been suppressing washed over me. All this carnage, all this devastation, it was my fault. My selfish need to keep my brother with me had led to this. So many people had lost their lives, their families. I looked down at Robbie and I suddenly wanted to confess everything to him. I needed to lay my soul bare so that he could understand why his family had been torn from him on the streets of Cardiff.

  I looked away from Robbie and pressed my head back against the wall. This was too much—it was all too much.

  From across the room, the man named Bill made eye contact with me and nodded softly. He pushed himsel
f to his feet and crossed the room.

  “Little fella looks exhausted,” he whispered as he crouched beside me.

  “Yeah, he’s been through a lot,” I sighed.

  “What’s it like out there?”

  Something in my face must have told him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just…” He gestured to his family. “I need something to cling to. For them.”

  “It’s worse than before, so much worse than last time,” I murmured.

  “They were so damn fast,” he spat. “What brought them back? What caused this?”

  I had no answer that I wanted, one that I could give him.

  “Another terrorist attack? I swear, if I ever get my hands on who did this, I’ll tear them limb from limb.”

  And it was then I realized that I could never tell anyone what I had done. If the general didn’t shoot me, someone else would.

  6

  General Rogers had asked to see me. Even though I was given the option beforehand, I was left in no doubt that I didn’t have any choice but to attend the meeting. My only concern was leaving Robbie alone. Luckily, he had taken to Bill and his family, and when I explained where I had to go, he said he would be fine. During the previous evening, soldiers had brought us blankets, pillows and food, and I was surprised that Robbie has eaten as much as he had. I didn’t make too much of a big deal about it, but the amount of relief I felt was huge. It was one small step towards him finding the strength to survive.

  One of the soldiers took me to a door that led out onto the highest part of the stadium and told me the general was waiting for me inside. I walked up the steps and out onto the seating area jutting out a hundred feet or so above the pitch. The emergency lighting cut through the darkness and I saw General Rogers sitting in the front row. Without a word, he gestured for me to take a seat beside him.