Collapse: Book four of Beyond These Walls - A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Page 12

  Like with the entrance to the labs, the diseased packed the road leading into tailoring.

  “At least seeing some survivors is a good thing,” Matilda said.

  Olga lifted her head. “How’s that?”

  “Well, if some people have survived, maybe the people we’re trying to rescue have survived too.”

  Hugh—having said very little since they’d told Olga about Max—finally spoke. “Tell me what you’ve seen, Olga.”

  “I’ve seen a lot of devastation.”

  While they talked, William took directions from Hugh, which led them down tailoring’s main street. The once clean shop windows and meticulously designed displays were in ruin, smashed glass now glitter on the cobblestones, and fabrics strewn across the road as if many of the shops had exploded.

  “I know those who have survived are the lucky ones,” Olga said, “and it was only luck that kept them alive. I hope all of your loved ones are in that number.” Before anyone else spoke, she added, “I thought I had a connection to him.”

  “Who?” William said.

  “Max. I felt like we were close on national service, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him while I waited for my arm to heal. I was making my way over to the labs even before I knew the city had fallen. Maybe that’s what saved me. When most people were at home, or focused on getting ready for work, I was outside and saw the creatures coming. It gave me the few seconds I needed to get to safety.”

  The clop of Goliath’s heels. The moans from the diseased. The smell of smoke from woodwork next door. “For what it’s worth,” William said, “I think you and Max had a connection too.”

  The watery glaze returned to Olga’s eyes. “You think?”

  “Sure. Don’t you remember the comments he used to make?”

  “I thought he was being cheeky.”

  “He was … because he like liked you.”

  Olga smiled as if reliving the good times. It damn near forced the truth from William, and from the way both Matilda and Hugh looked out across the district, they felt the same guilt. But they didn’t know if he was still in the labs. It wasn’t like they saw evidence of him being there and left. It would be suicide to try to find out.

  Tears now streaming down her cheeks, Olga sniffed. “Thanks, Spike.”

  “William.”

  “William?”

  “Spike was the name of a kid enamoured with the protectors. A kid who thought he lived in a city that would help him be who he wanted to be. My name’s William.”

  Olga nodded. “I wonder how the city fell.”

  Although William had an awareness of Hugh looking across, he kept his focus on Olga. “It’s a mystery. One of the politicians probably screwed up somewhere.”

  Hugh’s features darkened, and for a moment William expected him to blurt out a confession. Instead, he pointed at a nearby street. “Down there.”

  A much narrower path than any they’d taken so far, the one-storey buildings were just a few feet away from them on either side. “The diseased might not be a danger to us,” William said, “but we could be hijacked by survivors, so keep your wits. How far to your house, Hugh?”

  After scanning their surroundings, Hugh pointed over to their right. “Just down the next street.”

  “I went back to my parents’ house,” Olga said. “Although, I don’t know why. They died years ago.”

  “They were already dead?” Again William did all the talking, Hugh and Olga now lost in their surveillance of the fallen district.

  “In their hearts they were. My sisters died when they went on national service.”

  “I remember you saying that to Bleach.”

  “I lost my parents that day too. They remained in body, but their hearts were broken beyond repair.” The tracks on Olga’s cheeks glistened anew with fresh tears. “I think they forgot they had one daughter still alive.”

  “So what did you find when you got there?”

  “They’d been turned like pretty much everyone else in laundry. But anyway, life’s depressing enough; what are your plans? Let’s say we save your loved ones, then what next? Find a corner of Edin to rebuild from?”

  Hugh wriggled and shifted before producing the map they’d found outside the city. He laid it out on the dark wood of the carriage’s roof. “There’s more than Edin out there.”

  “What’s this?” Olga said.

  “A map,” Hugh said.

  “Duh!”

  “We found it on a diseased we killed in the ruined city. Looks like there’s a whole world out there. Maybe they were trying to find out about Edin. Doesn’t look like they knew much about the place.”

  “I don’t know why they’d want to find out about this city.” Olga squinted, the sun reflecting off the map’s glossy surface. “It looks like they’re much more advanced than us.”

  William frowned. “Why do you say that?”

  Olga licked her finger and dragged it across the map. Although William gasped to see her attempt to deface it, the image remained.

  “Whatever they’ve used to get these lines on the paper, it’s better than anything we have. Were this a map made by someone in Edin, I would have been able to smudge it.”

  Even Matilda turned to look at the large sheet of paper. “I thought it was painted on there.”

  Olga shook her head. “I wonder how they did it.”

  When Hugh pulled on William’s right arm, William guided Goliath down the next street. Even tighter than the one they were leaving, their ride became bumpy from where the diseased couldn’t get out of their way. They ran over as many as they shoved aside. An already foul stench in the air, the reek of rot and vinegar heightened with the pop and crack of breaking bones.

  Like with the main street, glass covered the ground, mixed with smashed wood from doors that had once been whole. The place had clearly fallen, but Hugh didn’t need to hear that. They’d hold onto hope until they had none.

  “It’s that one,” Hugh said, pointing down the street at a house that looked like all the others.

  Although, with this one, the door remained in its frame and … “What does that sheet say?” William said.

  Hugh sat up, the diseased around them all turning to face him. Mouths fell open, brows furrowed. “They’ve made a sign.”

  Not much wind, but enough to disturb the fabric so they couldn’t quite read the embroidered message. Black thread on a pink sheet.

  Then it settled and Olga read it. “Alive inside.”

  Chapter 32

  They were just a few feet from the house, a house much like all the others surrounding it, much like many of the rickety houses in Edin. Their similarities lay in just how different they were. An eclectic mess of one-story residences. It made the luxury of the labs even more galling.

  When Hugh stood up, the sounds of the diseased surrounding them lifted, agitated by the sight of the stocky boy. Goliath’s hide tightened. William reached forward and patted the large stallion’s warm skin.

  Hugh stared at the sheet and shook his head. “Even now, when his life’s in danger, Dad uses the cheapest offcut to make a sign.”

  The pink sheet danced in the weak breeze, only the top of it pinned between the door and frame. William said, “Maybe he knew this one would move the most so it could be seen from farther away.”

  A snort and then shake of his head, Hugh stepped from the roof of the carriage to the roof of his house. “He ain’t that smart.”

  William handed Goliath’s reins to Matilda. “Don’t pull on them too hard. He’s a calm horse you can trust. Just reassure him.” He then stood up—the diseased growing more agitated now they could see two of them—before stepping across to join Hugh.

  A rickety roof made from slate and wood like many of those in Edin. The different shades of grey showed where it had been patched up over the years. Hugh peered down at the ever-increasing horde below. “How the hell are we going to get inside?”

  “Go through the roof,” Olga said.
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br />   Hugh nodded before reaching down to tear one of the pieces of slate away. While biting on his bottom lip, he threw it at the diseased in the street. It scored a direct hit, cracking one of them in the face and knocking it to the ground. William gave Olga a thumbs up and went to work with his friend.

  It took them a minute or two—Hugh removing three times the number of tiles compared to William—but they opened a hole. It shone a light down on what looked to be Hugh’s front room.

  “Hello?” Hugh called. A few seconds later, a man appeared. He had long ginger hair, sleepy green eyes, and a slightly loose jaw.

  Before the man spoke, Hugh said, “Where are they?”

  The man scowled. “You not going to say hello to your old man?”

  “Where. Are. They?”

  Despite his initial terse response, Hugh’s dad softened, his fixed features faltering. “Thank god you’re here. I didn’t think anyone would come. I thought I was going to die in this house. Thank you for coming back to me.”

  “Where are they?”

  Hugh’s dad glanced to his right, and before he said anything, Hugh made his way across the roof in that direction.

  “I did all I could, Hugh. I tried my best.”

  If Hugh heard him, it didn’t show, dropping down over another spot on the roof and tearing into it like a drill. William jumped back to avoid the slate he tossed aside.

  It didn’t take long to open a space over what had once been Hugh’s kitchen. Two people were in there: a boy and a woman. The boy and the woman who’d come to visit Hugh after every trial. The boy William had seen Hugh hug like he’d never let him go. They both stared up through the hole. Like Hugh’s dad, they looked like they were struggling with the bright sunshine pushing down on them. The glare of it glistened off their crimson eyes. Their mouths hung open as dark pits loaded with the disease, ready to be driven into someone with one hard bite.

  Frozen, Hugh stared down at his family for what felt like at least a minute. He moved back over to the first hole, but walked straight past it.

  At the edge of his house, directly above the front door, Hugh tore off another slate tile.

  Hugh’s dad continued to stare up through the first hole at William, who then left him there to join his friend. “What are you doing, Hugh?”

  But Hugh didn’t reply. Instead, he tore slate after slate free, throwing them through the first hole at his dad.

  “Hugh,” his dad shouted at him over the splashes of breaking tiles, “I did all I could for them, I promise.”

  The crash of more slate against the living room floor answered him, Hugh’s hole growing larger by the second. The diseased by the front door shrieked and screamed at their desperation to get to the boy just above them. Matilda and Olga watched on from the roof of Goliath’s carriage.

  When one of the tiles clearly hit Hugh’s dad, the man screaming in response, William grabbed his friend’s thick arm to halt him. Hugh stood up and lifted his chest.

  William held his ground. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting to the front door so I can open it.”

  “But that’s your dad. You’re not thinking straight.”

  “I’m thinking straighter than I have in a long time, William. Now stand aside.”

  “You told me your dad was a good guy.”

  “I lied. He’s an arsehole and always has been. I hate him and have since I’ve been old enough to hate. Another weak-minded man broken by the system and never able to find the emotional resources to pull himself back. Another family made to pay the price because of their patriarch’s failing. He’s a waste of space.” His voice caught and his face momentarily buckled. “He couldn’t even keep them alive.”

  “Can you blame him for that in this city?”

  In a blink, Hugh drew his sword and held the point just inches from William’s face.

  Wide eyes, sweat glistening on his skin, Hugh said, “I will end you if I need to. Don’t get in the way of this.”

  William showed Hugh his palms as if surrendering and stepped back several paces. He stood above the first hole, with a clear line of sight to Hugh’s dad.

  Hugh sheathed his sword and went back to work on the hole. His arms moved like pistons, tearing through the roof.

  So he didn’t get caught by the flying slate, and to get away from the whimpering man, William moved a step closer to Goliath and the girls. Maybe they should leave Hugh. The two concerned faces looking back at him from the carriage would have backed him up. But he didn’t know Hugh’s dad. He didn’t know his friend’s reasons for behaving this way.

  The hole in the roof now large enough, Hugh drew his sword for a second time. He reached down with it and pushed the tip against the hinges running down one side of the door. The ripping sound of wood and the chink of metal rang out as the top hinge fell.

  Hugh’s dad ran to the door and pushed against it. “What are you doing, boy? Are you trying to get me killed?”

  A dark glaze covered Hugh’s eyes. The glaze William had seen too many times already. The Hugh he knew had temporarily left.

  Hugh tore another slate tile free, clenched his jaw, and threw it down at his dad. The man screamed like a diseased when the slate exploded on the top of his head. He ran back from the door.

  With only one hinge remaining, the wooden door suddenly gave way, the bottom hinge too weak to hold the creatures back.

  As the diseased flooded into the house, Hugh moved over to the first hole. A smile teased the edges of his mouth. He watched his dad through the loose focus of someone in a daydream.

  Within seconds, Hugh’s dad’s scream stopped. Hugh then walked past William and patted his shoulder. The glaze had lifted from his features. He stepped across the gap onto the roof of Goliath’s carriage and lay down next to Olga, who shifted a few inches away from him as if whatever he had was catching.

  Under the scrutiny of the two girls, William followed Hugh, stepping onto the roof of the carriage before lying down between Matilda and Olga. He took the reins from Matilda and flicked them gently. None of them spoke as Goliath walked over the pink sheet with Alive inside embroidered on it.

  Chapter 33

  No one spoke for the next half an hour or so. Once or twice, William’s eyelids grew so heavy he had to force them wide to stop himself falling asleep. The middle of the afternoon, they still had a lot ahead of them. No time for rest. That would come later—much, much later.

  They’d left tailoring, moving at Goliath’s slow pace as they ambled through the streets. How would they have ever managed without the large creature? Olga threw William a sharp glare every time he did it, but he reached forward and patted the horse anyway. Of the few diseased that noticed, they quickly got distracted by something else.

  “I’m hungry and thirsty,” Hugh said.

  Matilda raised her head. “Me too. Surely we can find something in the city.”

  Just the thought of it made William’s stomach rumble, and were he not focused on leading Goliath through the streets of his home district—every step moving them closer to his house—then he might have added to the conversation.

  “Not seen many survivors here,” Hugh said.

  And they hadn’t. The rickety roofs of agriculture stretched out away from them, and so far they were clear of people. And thank god. Not that William didn’t wish for survivors, he just didn’t want to have to ignore them again. The survivors in ceramics … the rookies in the national service area … Max …

  When Hugh laughed, it broke William from his thoughts.

  “Lying on this carriage reminds me of sneaking out with Elizabeth in the evenings. Did you know we did that?”

  “No,” William said.

  “Strange that. You always noticed if I went out for anything else, but when it was to meet Elizabeth, you slept like a baby. We’d lie on the roof of our dorm and watch the stars. We’d make plans for what we’d do when national service ended. Sometimes we’d lie there in silence, just holding each othe
r’s hands. I often think being able to share silence is what sets apart a good relationship from a great one.”

  “Why don’t you try it, then?” Olga said, looking at the creatures below as if fearful of Hugh’s words riling them.

  Hugh laughed again. “Good one.” After a moment, he said, “We need to get to woodwork.”

  William fought against the sinking feeling in his gut. “Whyyyy?”

  The timbre of Hugh’s laugh rang at a higher pitch than before. “To see if she’s okay, silly. We need to make sure we get to her. She’ll be worried sick.”

  Olga dropped a monotone bombshell, her patience clearly running out. “She’s dead, Hugh. Like most people in this city.”

  Where Hugh had been smiling, his face fell slack. The light in his eyes dulled, his brow furrowing. In that moment, William saw the Hugh he knew from before. The unassuming and fiercely intelligent Hugh. The one who saw all the angles.

  Another erratic laugh, Hugh nodded too many times and his cheeks reddened. “Of course.” He laughed again and reverted to his withdrawn glaze. “I was joking, obviously.”

  As he’d been doing since they left tailoring, William guided Goliath down another street.

  When Hugh spoke again, his words were loaded with uncertainty. It reminded William of when his grandma would forget everyone’s name, like she was lost in the fog of her mind. “But what about tailoring?”

  “Tailoring?” Olga said.

  This time William let go of the right rein and rested his hand on Olga’s shoulder. He shook his head at her.

  “I need to see if James and my mum are okay. Look, I’ll be honest with you, Spike—”

  “Will …”

  “Huh?”

  William let it go. “Go on.”

  “I don’t like my dad. Never have. He’s a vicious man with a dark heart. But I need to see if James and my mum are still alive. I’m not sure what I’d do without them.”

  When Olga drew a breath to reply, William talked over her. “Don’t worry.” Like when he used to reassure his gran about trips she wanted to make to people long since passed, he reassured his friend. “We’ll go to tailoring soon.” They turned down a tighter street, now drawing close to William’s house.