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

uttered a word as the car slowed to a crawl, allowing them to take in the scene. The street was silent. Some doors stood ajar as the car rolled down the road, others were swung wide. When Amy saw the bloody handprint on a door, she let out a quiet gasp.

“Which one is it?” Ben asked.

He followed Amy’s direction to the house at the end of the road, looking from the bloody handprint on one door, to the broken panes of another. Finally, his eyes settled on the door belonging to her mother. It stood ajar like so many others, but there was no obvious sign of damage. As soon as he stopped the car, Amy bolted.

“Wait!”

Amy paid him no heed as she raced towards the house. She shouldered the door aside, breaking the silent atmosphere.

“Mum?!”

Ben followed her as she darted inside the house. He looked over the surrounding gardens before peering into the doorway. The hallway was empty, Amy was gone.

“Shit.”

He made his way down the hallway, scanning each of the open rooms. When he reached the kitchen, he peered inside. His gaze fell on Amy, who sat in a heap on the floor. Next to her was an up-turned wheelchair spattered in blood. She sobbed into her hands, allowing Ben to survey the rest of the room unnoticed. The lack of a body concerned him. If Amy’s mother had fallen victim to the horde of zombies, where was she now?

“Amy,” he whispered. She continued to cry. He approached, listening for any other sound in the house. When he was close enough, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Amy.”

This time she turned, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“We have to find her.” She snivelled. “I have to know if she’s alive.”

She tried to stand, but Ben held her at bay.

“Listen, Amy, if your mum couldn’t walk there’s little chance she would’ve escaped.”

“You don’t know that.”

She tried to rise again, but Ben’s grasp kept her in place. “Look at the blood.”

“Get off me!”

 She lashed out, causing Ben to step back. She jumped to her feet and approached the conservatory door which stood ajar. Ben turned away, deciding to leave her to calm down. He ran an appraising eye over the kitchen. Despite the bloodied wheelchair, the rest of the contents seemed untouched. Two wine glasses stood beside two plates in the sink. Ben glanced at the kitchen table, noticing that two of the four chairs had been pulled out. Amy’s mother wasn’t alone. She never mentioned her father. He looked up and found she was no longer stood in the doorway.

“Shit.” Ben approached the sliding doors as Amy’s outburst came from the garden.

“Mum!”

He looked around, noticing the majority of the garden veered to the left. A lone woman swayed at the back of the garden, turning as Amy drew near. The cast on her foot caused her to stumble.

“Mum?”

“Amy, get away from her!”

 Ben ran over as the woman lunged for her daughter. They fell to the ground in a tight clinch.

“Mum, get off me!”

Amy fought hard to escape her mother, but her grip was fierce. Finally, Ben pried the woman away.

“No, don’t!” Amy cried.

She struggled to her feet as Ben glanced around the garden at the array of ornaments. Choosing a long, colourful wind spinner, he pried it from the ground and impaled the woman through the eye.

“No!”

Amy screamed as her mother bucked and jerked beneath the pole. Ben applied more pressure. Eventually, the sound of breaking skull signalled its exit through the back of her head.

“You killed her,” Amy gasped. Ben turned, wiping a stream of sweat from his brow.

“She was a zombie. That wasn’t your mother.”

Amy whirled away and ran back into the house. Ben glanced down at the bloody ornament still clutched in his hand. A slight breeze disturbed the fan, causing it to spin in a colourful blur. He released his grip and approached the conservatory.

“Amy?”

The house was quiet. He stepped into the kitchen, looking again at the two chairs pushed away from the table.

“Amy?”

He strolled into the hallway. Still, the house remained silent. He continued down the passage to the foot of the stairs. He went to call her again, but stopped when a hand grabbed his shoulder. He whirled around, meeting Amy’s tear-stained face.

“Where’s my phone?” she stammered.

“What?”

“My mobile phone. Where is it?”

“I don’t know. Look, is there somebody else here, your dad perhaps?”

“I need my phone.” She repeated. Her glazed eyes staring at the wall. She’s in shock, he thought.

“Amy!” Ben grabbed her by the shoulders, stepping into her line of sight. “Does your dad live here?”

Amy blinked before a frown creased her face. “No, my dad died when I was five. Why?”

A floorboard somewhere in the house creaked. Ben glanced towards the stairs, an unconscious gesture that Amy replicated.

“I think somebody else is here,” he whispered. “We have to go.”

“Wait, I can’t find my phone.”

“You had it back at your place.”

Amy looked away. “Oh god, I must’ve dropped it when Mrs. Carmichael attacked me. We have to go back.”

“Have you forgotten my sister?”

“No, but I need to see if anybody has tried to ring me. Please, Ben. I need it.”

“Okay. Let’s just get out of here.”

With a parting look at the stairs, he stepped out of the house. He motioned for her to return to the car, following her down the garden path. The street was still empty, with the exception of a lone kestrel perched atop a telegraph pole. It stared at the pair as they walked towards the car, ruffling its blood-stained feathers. As they neared, it turned its head in order to get a better look. A