The Virus by Lee, Damien (summer books txt) 📕

“Good. Zielinski go open those gates.”

A cacophony of shrieks sounded from behind them. The zombies with intact legs rounded the corner and ran towards the vehicles.

“Or not,” Gus muttered. He sped towards the gate. Frank followed, driving beside the van.

“Gus,” he yelled. “You’re not seriously going to—”

Frank’s question was answered as the prison van smashed through the chain-link gate, hurling them aside. He shook his head as he sped after them, noticing the strips of tyre killers strategically placed along the road. For a moment he feared driving over them. But as Razor’s van bounded over the top, he realised they were a measure to prevent intruders, not escapees.

Before long, they drove side by side down the country road.

“Do you know what that smell is, Frankie?” Gus yelled through his open window.

“Smells like you’re pushing that van too hard. Ease off a bit.”

The two vans slowed as they approached a bend in the road.

“No, it’s the smell of freedom,” Gus said.

“Smells like cow-shit to me.”

“Can you believe we’re out of that place?”

“Keep your eyes on the road or you won’t be getting much further.”

“C’mon there’s nobody about.”

“That doesn’t mean the rest of the world is infected,” Frank retorted. “I don’t care what McAllister said, for all we know it could just be the prison. A car could speed round that bend any minute.”

They looked ahead at the turn in the road. The sheer silence made it unlikely that any vehicle was in the vicinity. Yet Razor sped forward and cut in front of Frank.

They approached the bend single-file with no other vehicles coming in to view. Frank listened, only hearing the growl of their engines, noting the distinct lack of sound. No other vehicles, no planes, no birdsong. Nothing. He scanned the fields on either side. The area was deserted. He looked ahead in time to see Razor’s van brake sharply. He followed suit, slamming the brake pedal down and lurching forward as the van squealed to a halt.

“What’s going on?” he shouted.

He looked out of the window and saw the pair jump out, walking around the front of the vehicle.

“Gus!”

With a growl of dismay, Frank shut off the engine and jumped out. He approached the van when he heard Razor’s voice.

“She’s dead.”

“Are you sure?” Zielinski asked.

“Of course I’m sure; her tits are missing.”

Frank stepped into view and saw the two men stood over the corpse of a young woman. Her pale legs were smeared with blood which had formed a small pool around her torso. The top half of her dress had been ripped open, leaving a mass of bloody pulp. There was a palpable trail leading from the woodland bordering the lane. Frank saw it as an obvious sign that she had either fled or been dragged through the forest and onto the road.

“I think this answers your question, Frankie,” Gus said, rising to his feet. “The crazy fuckers are out here as well.”

He turned to walk back to his van when Frank grabbed him.

“If this thing has spread, then chances are Doxley has been hit as well.”

“And?”

“And if that’s the case, don’t you think you should reconsider your army base idea?”

Gus stepped out of Frank’s grasp and made his way back to the van.

“Frankie.” he chuckled as he jumped into the driver’s seat. “That place will be fortified. Nobody can get in.”

“Including you.”

“We’ll find a way, won’t we Zielinski?”

The Polish man shrugged as he got in the passenger side.

“If you’re sure,” Frank said.

“Of course we’re sure,” Razor yelled. “We’ve got this far haven’t we?”

Frank got back into his van. The engine roared to life as Razor made his way forward. His van bucked and swayed as he drove over the mangled corpse.

“Gus, you sick bastard,” Frank muttered, giving the body a wide berth as he drove past. He looked back in his side mirrors and was sure he saw the woman start to rise before he drove out of view. Shaking the unsettling image from of his head, he followed Razor round a bend and down another country lane. The trees on either side of the road blocked most of the sun’s rays, casting a shadow over the two vehicles as they drove on. The drive, although tedious, allowed Frank to consider the extent of the chaos. If the nearby towns were infected, what chance would he have of finding a safe refuge? He switched on the radio. The harsh sound of static hissed through the van’s speakers.

“Shit!”

The pitch of the noise intensified as he tried to tune to a station, but he was unable to pick up anything else. He pounded the dashboard in a rage and switched the radio off. He hoped it was the trees interfering with the signal. He looked ahead as Razor slowed to a halt. He veered around the van and pulled up alongside them.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, eyeing the junction ahead of them.

“This is where we part, Frankie,” Gus hollered. “We’re going right. The army base should be less than twenty miles from here.”

Frank nodded, looking at the road sign ahead of them. Doxley was twenty miles to the right, and the town of Sunnymoor was fifteen miles left.

“You can still come with us.”

Frank shook his head.

“So you’re heading for Sunnymoor then?”

“Nope.”

“Then where?”

Frank fixed his gaze straight ahead towards the open fields bordered by a brick wall. He began to rev his engine. He could see Razor in the corner of his eye, regarding him curiously.

“You’re not going cross-country?”

“There won’t be any people on the moors,” Frank told him. “At least not as many as the towns.”

He revved his engine louder.

“That’s hardly a Land Rover you’re driving,” Razor yelled. “Where