Dead Days Zombie Apocalypse Series (Season 6) Read online

  A realisation thumped Billy right between his ribs.

  Sherry was dead.

  Laura was dead.

  They’d both been dead for months.

  He stopped walking. Stopped right in his tracks. His head spun. His heart raced. The realisation of the death of his loved ones hit him hard, just like it had back when it happened. But why now? Why was it getting to him now? He’d grieved. Oh, had he grieved. He hadn’t spoken to anyone for two months after it happened. Dug himself into a rut that he didn’t want to climb out from, not for anyone, for anything.

  He collapsed to his knees. Pressed his forehead against the cool cobbles.

  He was drunk. He’d had way too much to drink. That’s all this was. There was nothing more to it.

  He felt the acidic taste growing stronger in his oesophagus. He’d always been good at holding his drink down, but he knew what was happening. Knew what was about to happen.

  He took a deep breath and heaved the vomit out all over the cobbles.

  He squeezed his eyes together as the thin, stringy vomit continued to pour out, as a tight pain squeezed around his abdomen. Sixty frigging six and puking down a side street. What a joke. What a world he lived in.

  He opened his eyes. Wiped the vomit from his lips.

  Then he noticed something.

  He’d picked up on it while he was throwing up. Picked up on the faint metallic flavour on his tongue, between his teeth. But he’d just put that down to the contents of his stomach. The booze.

  His hand where he’d wiped his mouth was red.

  Deep red.

  And on the cobbles beneath him, the moonlight reflected in a red pool.

  A pool of blood.

  Billy went cold all over. He saw pieces in the redness. Pieces of… was that flesh?

  What was happening to him? First the blackout. Then the weird delayed reaction to his loved ones’ deaths.

  What the hell was happening to him?

  Lightheaded, he stood. Wiped at his mouth some more. He didn’t want to be around the blood he’d thrown up any longer. Didn’t want to be reminded of it. He just wanted to get back home. Get back home and forget it.

  You’re dying.

  No. No, he wasn’t dying. He’d just had too much to drink. Too much to—

  You’re dying and there’s nothing you can do about it.

  Billy stopped walking again. And weirdly, as blood-laced saliva drooled down his chin, there was only one thing he wanted to do.

  Just one thing above anything that brought him comfort. Brought him reassurance.

  He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t comprehend it.

  But he just had to do it.

  So he did.

  He turned around.

  Looked up at the moon.

  Looked up at the craters. At the glow as the sun reflected on it.

  He looked up at it and felt his thoughts fading. Felt his memories softening. Felt like Sherry and Laura were here with him, and then didn’t feel like it, they just were here with him.

  He felt comfortable.

  He felt at ease.

  So he stood there in the dark, and he stared.

  He didn’t notice the next bout of bloody vomit drool out between his lips.

  From his ears.

  From his nostrils, his eyes, his every crack.

  He just stood there.

  Stared at the moon.

  Comfortable.

  Alone.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Riley had learned to ignore a lot of things since the collapse of human existence.

  But a human scream was one of the few things that always woke him.

  Always.

  His eyes jolted open. It was still dark in his room. He couldn’t feel the warmth from Jordanna’s body to his right, which meant she was still out. Out, at the ball. Out at that bullshit fake show of security, solidarity.

  Or maybe she was the one screaming.

  Riley took a deep breath. Pulled himself upright. Looked around his room, squinting in the darkness. His heart pounded. He could taste the sweat on his lips.

  Maybe it’d just been a figment of his imagination.

  A by-product of his over-active mind.

  A—

  He heard the scream again.

  It was outside. But not outside the walls. On the street somewhere outside the flat.

  He stood up. Held his breath. He didn’t want to see what was outside the window. Didn’t want to face the truth. He couldn’t tell whether the scream was male or female, and that was a problem.

  But as he walked across his bedroom floor, Riley knew one thing.

  He couldn’t turn away from a scream.

  He couldn’t turn away from danger.

  From more potential loss.

  He stopped. Reached for the curtain. Smelled the hint of booze and vomit still lingering on his breath.

  He grabbed the curtain.

  Waited there a few seconds. Listened for another scream. Another sign of life.

  Maybe he’d just imagined it.

  Maybe he could just go back to bed and pretend he hadn’t heard it.

  At least that way he could deny the truth.

  Deny the truth of what he’d heard.

  Of what…

  No.

  He had to pull open the curtain.

  He had to see what was outside.

  He pulled aside the curtain.

  Held his breath again.

  The street outside was dark. In the distance, he could still hear the faint sounds of music at the ball, playing well into the night. If he listened even more closely, Riley could hear the creatures at the other side of the wall. Not many of them. The teams Jordanna and Hassan—as well as the other people who ran this place now—set up made sure numbers were kept to a minimum.

  At least that’s what Riley thought. He wasn’t sure anymore. Wasn’t sure if they did things differently these days.

  He wasn’t involved, and he was delighted not to be.

  He stared out at the cobbled street. Looked for a sign of movement. A sign of life. And as he looked, Riley couldn’t help noticing just how bright the moon was tonight. Bright and bulging, lighting up the dark much more than he’d realised. Like viewing the world through night vision, under a soft glow.

  He looked up and down the street. Didn’t see any movement. Couldn’t hear any struggling. Any screaming. He breathed easier. Maybe it was just a drunkard. Somebody lost on their way back from the ball making a big deal of things.

  He started to close the curtain when he saw something twitch in the corner of his eye.

  It was down on the cobbles. Right down on the left of the cobbles. Riley saw the movement clearer now, even though black spots and floaters filled his vision.

  Somebody was down there.

  Somebody was on the cobbles.

  Shuffling along.

  His first instinct was to open the window. To shout down there and see if they were okay.

  But there was just something about the way the person was moving.

  Not like a person at all.

  More like… more like a creature.

  Riley let the curtains fold back in front of the window. His stomach felt rock hard. He wasn’t sure what to do. How to go about this. Whether to even go about anything at all.

  But someone was out there.

  Someone was crawling around on the MLZ streets like a creature.

  Like the undead.

  So Riley took a deep breath.

  Walked across the bedroom.

  Grabbed Jordanna’s pistol from her underwear drawer on his way out.

  Just for insurance.

  Just in case.

  HE WALKED out of the apartment block. Stepped out into the night. The moonlight seemed even brighter now he was out here enshrouded in it. There was a chill in the air. A coolness, bitter on his ears, which was uncharacteristic of the summer months.

  There was a smell, too.

  Not a sourness. Not a rot, not like the creatures usually carried with them. Which was a relief, of course. A complete relief.

  But more of… a sweetness.

  A sweetness to the air. Only way he could describe it. Like flowers. Jasmine. A smell that always used to make him gag with their sickly sweetness.

  It smelled like those, just sweeter.

  Stranger.

  He stepped out onto the cobbles. The fresh air felt strange as he inhaled it. He didn’t come outside much anymore. Limited his time outdoors. Not because he didn’t like the outdoors. Just that outdoors meant bumping into people. And bumping into people meant chatting with people. And chatting with people meant getting to know people, and…

  Shit. When had he become such a hermit?

  When had he slipped back into his pre-apocalypse life so sharply?

  He didn’t have time to consider an answer.

  He saw the figure dragging itself across the cobbles just a few metres away.

  Riley walked slowly towards the figure. Tried not to make a sound. He looked up at the neighbouring apartments. All of them were dark, empty, most of the residents of the MLZ at that ball of theirs. But still, as he walked, Riley swore he felt eyes on him. Watching him. Glaring down at him.

  He couldn’t let the feeling get to him though.

  He just had to keep walking.

  Keep moving.

  He waited until he was a few feet closer before saying anything. Still hadn’t figured out whether this person was just drunk. Or if there really was something more sinister going on. There was a chance someone’s guard had dropped what with the ball going on. A chance a creature found its way inside. It happened. Very rarely, but like the chance of death from general anaesthesia, the chance was always there.

  He wa
s about to call out when he felt something damp under his shoes.

  He looked down. Saw the dark fluid glistening in the moonlight.

  Blood.

  Riley looked back at the figure.

  The figure was staring back at him.

  It was a man. His eyes were wide and bulging. His face was completely pale.

  Except for the blood rolling down from his eyes.

  From his nostrils.

  From his ears.

  Riley didn’t know what to do, what to say. But he recognised this man. Billy, his name was. Billy Warren. One of the older guys around the place. Pretty reasonable. Someone he didn’t mind.

  He hadn’t recognised him at first because he looked so… distorted.

  And the way he stared up at Riley.

  Not like he was undead. Not like he was a creature.

  Entirely alive.

  That was the most terrifying thing.

  “Billy, what…”

  Billy opened his mouth as if to talk.

  Then a wide smile stretched across his white face.

  He stuck his tongue between his lips. Started chuckling. Chuckling maniacally as more blood seeped out of his orifices, dribbled down onto the ground.

  “What happened?” Riley asked, heart pounding, limbs shaking. It was all he could do. All he could say.

  The eyes from the surrounding buildings seemed to get more intense.

  The urgency to get back to the apartment magnified.

  Billy kept on laughing. Laughing like a child now. Sticking his tongue further out of his mouth, further than Riley thought was possible.

  He wondered for a moment if maybe Billy really was drunk. Just really badly drunk.

  Then, Billy bit down on his tongue.

  Bit right down.

  Riley froze. He froze as blood poured from Billy’s tongue, drooled down his chin.

  He was biting his tongue off.

  No.

  He was biting his tongue off, and he was fucking laughing about it.

  Riley stepped forward. Lurched towards Billy.

  He had to stop him. He was having some kind of seizure. Some kind of fit. That’s what this was. A seizure.

  He went to grab the back of Billy’s head, completely unaware of any kind of first aid protocols or correct practice. Something he should probably have paid more attention to in his former life.

  He didn’t get to Billy’s head.

  Because before he could get there, something else happened.

  The whiteness of Billy’s face suddenly went red.

  And then it went purple.

  And then it went completely black.

  And before Riley could do anything—before he could even attempt to intervene, the sclera of Billy’s eyes went from white to red.

  The laugh turned into a gargle.

  His head exploded.

  Billy’s headless body hit the cobbles.

  Riley could only stand there, heart racing, pain radiating through his chest.

  Stand there in the bright moonlight and stare at Billy’s decapitated body.

  At the mess of brains.

  At the thick pool of blood.

  What the fuck had he just witnessed?

  CHAPTER SIX

  “I mean on one hand, I can’t even pick up a bloody dog’s turd, let alone a human’s one. And on the other… Riley? Are you even listening, mate?”

  Riley blinked. Glanced up at James. Saw the concern in his eyes as he held a can of beer to his lips. Behind him, the rest of the Palace Bar was empty. Just how Riley preferred it.

  “Yeah,” he said, lifting his glass of tap water. “Sorry. Go on.”

  James shook his head. Sipped back his canned beer. “Never mind. Glassy eyed as ever. And you wonder why you aren’t making many new friends these days.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever wondered that.”

  “Well, you get my point.”

  Riley sipped on his water. He heard the frustration in James’ voice. The impatience. Couldn’t blame him. He knew how hard work he must be to deal with.

  Well. He didn’t. Not exactly.

  But he could imagine it.

  He glanced out of the window of the bar, out towards the MLZ. Another sunny day. Another bright, warm day. The streets lazy, people occasionally walking down it.

  “You’re usually spaced out. But not this spaced out. Sup?”

  Riley turned back to James. Tried to suppress a yawn, failed. He thought about what he’d seen last night. He thought about what’d happened to Billy.

  Crawling across the cobbles.

  Turning around, pale-faced, blood rolling down his skin.

  Tongue between his teeth.

  Biting down on it.

  Then out of nowhere, his head exploding.

  “Riley? Are you—”

  “Just tired,” Riley said, raising his voice.

  James shook his head. Took another sip of beer. “Right. That’s all it is.”

  “It’s all it is,” Riley said.

  He didn’t want to bring up what he’d seen last night. He didn’t want to bring it up for a number of reasons. Mostly because he knew how it looked.

  He’d been out there, all alone, with a gun.

  Billy had been found dead. Head exploded.

  And although Riley knew he was innocent in what happened—although he knew he was completely in the right—he knew what people would say. What they’d say about the weird hermit who lived on his own. About the dickwad who didn’t attend the ball.

  The loner psycho.

  He didn’t want to stoke those flames.

  “Ball was good.”

  “Was it?”

  “Yeah. You’d have enjoyed it.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Actually, you’re right. You’d have hated it.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “So. How’s things between you and Jordanna?”

  “Good.”

  “Good. Things are good between me and Tamara.”

  “Good.”

  “Should I stop asking bullshit questions that aren’t getting me anywhere now and cut to the chase?”

  “Please.”

  James nodded. He scratched the skin at the back of his hands. “Okay. I’ve not just invited you out for a casual drink of… of tap water, believe it or not.”

  “I can believe it.”

  “I’ve invited you here ’cause I want to ask you something. Something… something pretty important. Our kid. Tamara and my kid. We… we wanted to ask if you’d be the little nipper’s godfather?”

  A flush of adrenaline tingled through Riley’s body. “Me? Why…”

  “Because you’re a tough bastard, and I’m pretty damned confident you’d dig my baby out of a hole if I get bit.”

  James grinned. Riley wasn’t sure how much truth there was to his words.

  James leaned across the table. “No, seriously though. Tamara and me spoke about it. We think it’d be a good idea.”

  “Are you sure Tamara was on about the same Riley?”

  “She respects you,” James said. Another slight grin crept across his face. “Dunno why the fuck she does a thing like that. But she does. She appreciates what you’ve done for us. Appreciates the sacrifices you made. To get us here. Where we are today. And… Well, I suppose I do too.”

  Riley looked away from James. “You got here because you’re tough. Both of you. You’re—”

  “Tamara did what she did five months ago, yeah. She made a ballsy move. A ballsy move to defeat the Orions. To save us all. But she got that courage because she saw your leadership, Riley. She saw the lengths you’d go to lead people. She saw what it took. What survival took. What… what sacrifices had to be made. And I guess she just wants to see that again. I guess that’s what we all want to see again. From you.”

  Riley was about to respond to James’ offer.

  Then a realisation hit him.

  “Hang on,” Riley said. “This… this conversation. This frigging drink. It’s not about you, is it?”

  James narrowed his eyes. “I don’t—”

  “It’s about me. It’s about trying to get me back on my feet again. Trying to—to fucking babysit me.”

  “Riley, I swear I didn’t—”

  “No,” Riley said, standing up, walking away from the table. “I won’t have you all scheming behind my back like I’m some kind of fucking charity case.”

  “I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.”

  “And ‘godfather,’ too? Who the fuck needs a godfather in this world? Fuck.”

  Riley walked past the empty tables and chairs, towards the bar exit. The bartender, Ellie, glared at him, didn’t say a word. He knew how much of a tit he’d made of himself. That much definitely didn’t need pointing out to him.