“…Just hold on.”

  “I can’t—”

  “You need to. You know we need to.”

  As Hayden curled up into more of a ball, he quickly became aware that these voices didn’t sound threatening. They didn’t sound dangerous or like the voices of guards.

  They sounded terrified.

  Like a terrified husband. A terrified wife.

  Hayden waited a few more seconds. Held his breath, listening to the gasps of the oncoming people, the running people.

  Were these people trying to get away?

  What were they running from?

  What was…

  “Shit,” the man said. “They’re coming, Shelly. They’re fucking coming.”

  “Hold it together, Paul. Hold it the fuck together.”

  “How am I supposed to—”

  “Ssh!”

  Hayden listened to the silence. The silence that fell in place of the sound of their running.

  He strained. Tried to listen for a noise.

  Who was coming?

  What was coming?

  What was…

  Then, he heard the moan.

  The moan came from his left. Not from the direction he’d been expecting. From the direction he’d come from.

  He turned back. Looked in that direction.

  He saw figures. Darkened silhouettes drifting towards him. Drifting towards the man called Paul, his wife—Hayden assumed—Shelly.

  He saw them waddling closer.

  Waddling out of the open gratings at the sides of the tunnel.

  Lots of them.

  All filling up the tunnel.

  All approaching.

  It was in that instant that Hayden realised exactly what this tunnel was now. Exactly what its purpose was.

  It was a trap.

  It was a trap, and he was stuck in the trap.

  Stuck in the trap as the zombies got closer.

  Stuck in the trap with only one direction to go.

  Closer to the city.

  Closer to the other side.

  Closer to the very place this terrified couple were running from.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  There was nothing else for Hayden to do but get up and run.

  “Quick,” he shouted, sprinting towards the terrified duo.

  He couldn’t see their faces. Not properly, not in this darkness. But he knew from the gasp of the man, Paul, that he’d startled them.

  “We need to get back. Back towards the city. We need to get back there.”

  Hayden kept on running, not waiting for Paul and Shelly to follow. He could hear the zombies staggering ever closer. He could hear them snarling. Hear their footsteps thumping against the cold, damp ground. Smell blood and taste death in the air.

  But all he could do was run.

  All he could do was wait for Miriam and Sam to pull through with their end of the plan.

  All he could do was hurtle on towards the city beyond the wall.

  Towards the new world.

  “You—you can’t go that way,” Shelly mumbled. “You can’t go back there.”

  “You’re wrong. We can.”

  “You’re from outside. You haven’t—you haven’t seen that place yet. You haven’t seen what they do. To people like us.”

  Hayden knew Shelly meant by “people like us.” Outsiders. And although he didn’t know exactly what they did to outsiders within these walls, he had an idea. He’d seen the depths of cruelty humanity sank to when its back was up against a wall. “I don’t know exactly. You’re right. But we can’t… we can’t stay here.”

  Hayden heard the small crowd of zombies closing in on Paul and Shelly, their silhouettes impossible to make out at this distance in the dark.

  He heard the sobs of Paul. The sobs of Shelly.

  He knew he couldn’t go back for them. Going back was suicide. Going back meant deviating from the plan.

  Then he remembered the boy.

  He remembered the little boy looking back at him, desperation in his eyes.

  The little boy he’d left behind…

  No.

  He couldn’t leave these people behind. He couldn’t leave anyone behind. Not anymore.

  Because nobody was more or less important than anyone else.

  Everybody was human.

  Everyone deserved a chance to survive.

  From outside or inside, everyone deserved a chance.

  Hayden stopped. Ran back towards Paul, towards Shelly. He felt insane as the echoing groans of the undead danced off the walls and the ceiling of the tunnel. Felt like he was running into oblivion. Running towards an inevitable, unstoppable fate, reality slamming into him like a freight train.

  He was going to die.

  He was going to die…

  No.

  No, he wasn’t going to die.

  He was going to save these people.

  And even if he did die, he’d die saving these people.

  Die giving them a second chance.

  It wasn’t long before Hayden reached Paul, Shelly. He put a hand on their shoulders. The zombies were just feet away from them as they stared back.

  “Quick,” Hayden said, pulling them away.

  But they didn’t.

  They stayed put.

  “Come on!”

  Shelly turned. Shook her head.

  “There’s nothing for us back there,” she said.

  The zombie at the front of the crowd snapped its teeth, hurtled closer.

  Towards Shelly.

  “No. That’s not true.”

  Hayden lifted the wrench.

  Swung it across the neck of the first zombie.

  Split it apart.

  He pushed past Paul, past Shelly.

  “You go back there,” he said. “You run to the gates. I’ll be there soon. Try not to draw any attention. Try not to let anyone know I’ve survived it.”

  “How do you know you’ll survive it?”

  Hayden turned. Faced the ten-strong crowd of zombies, head on. “I will.”

  He swung the pipe against the neck of the next zombie.

  Then slammed it through the decaying throat of another, hoping he’d got a clean hit, impossible to tell for definite in the blackness.

  He attacked the rest of the zombies. Attacked them in this perfect darkness. And as he swung and stabbed the wrench at his victims, Hayden didn’t recognise himself. He didn’t recognise the man he’d become. The man he’d turned into in just a few short months.

  The man he’d become in order to survive.

  No. Not just to survive.

  But to help others.

  To help everyone he could.

  Because that’s what this world was about now. Not self-interest. Not hiding behind makeshift walls. Not rounding up the weak and hiding them away in prisons under nicer fucking names.

  It was about helping each other. It was about starting again. But not from the top down. From the ground up.

  It took Hayden a moment to realise the tunnel had gone silent.

  Blood rolled down his arms. He could taste it on his lips. The wrench had bent, twisted, chipped at the top where it’d come into contact with a few too many spines. All his weeks of training. All his weeks of building his strength to survive this world alone. All of it going to better use.

  He could see that now.

  He wasn’t alone.

  He wasn’t going to be alone.

  Not anymore.

  Not while there were people to help.

  People to save.

  People to survive with.

  He turned around. Ran away from the fallen corpses of the zombies. Some of them still wriggled around, gargled, as he’d failed to take out their necks. And some of the ones whose necks he’d broken were still active, too. He didn’t know why. Didn’t know what other secrets the virus had. How else it’d morphed.

  Only that it hadn’t morphed in one way.

  It hadn’t morphed in the way the people running things behind this wall wanted everyone to believe.

  He ran. Ran towards the city. Hoped Paul and Shelly were still fine. Hoped they were still okay.

  A light flashed in front of him. Sudden, out of nowhere. It illuminated the tunnel. Too large to be a basic torchlight. Like a proper lantern. Expensive, undoubtedly. Heavy duty.

  Hayden covered his eyes. Squinted ahead. Peered into the light. He tried to see beyond it. Tried to make out a sign of life. A sense of who was there. Who was watching him.

  And then he heard a voice.

  “Sorry about this. But it’s time for the people beyond the fences to really, really understand what’s happening to the people outside.”

  Hayden heard a click.

  Then a blast.

  Chapter Forty

  Hayden heard the blast of gunfire crack through the tunnel.

  His instinct was to jump. To throw himself to the right. He wasn’t sure how successful he was dodging the bullet. Wasn’t sure how good an aim his enemy had on him.

  Only that he had to jump.

  He had to avoid being shot.

  He couldn’t just allow himself to be shot. Not now.

  He fell to the ground. Got a face full of dust, a mouthful of blood.

  He looked up. Saw the beaming light still shining at him. He couldn’t feel any pain other than the pain of his fall, so he assumed he hadn’t been shot.

  Not yet.

  He heard the gunfire again. Rolled to the right. Because that was all he could do. Roll. Fucking roll and hope for the best.

  He hit the wall at the side of the tunnel.

  The searing light closing in on him.

  The man with the gun stepping closer.

  “Why are you doing this?” Hayden shouted.

  The man stopped. Hayden hadn’t seen his face yet. Just the light. Just that bright light beaming down on him.

  “Why am I doing this?” the man asked. There was a slight foreign twinge to his voice. Spanish, perhaps. “I’m doing this to protect our people.”

  “No. That’s not true. You know as well as anyone we’re not a threat—”

  “This’ll be easier if you’re silent,” the man said.

  Hayden looked to his left. Looked into the darkness. Then he looked to his right. Looked over at the city. The entrance to the city. He couldn’t see it. Not clearly. The light in his eyes was way too bright, distorting his view of everywhere else.

  Hayden spat a lump of bloody saliva onto the ground. Looked back into the light. “There’s people out there. Good people out there.”

  “I’m not doubting that.”

  “Good people who just want to survive. Who want to survive more than anything.”

  “But sometimes survival means making sacrifices. It means making the tough decisions. The difficult decisions. You are a part of that. Don’t you see? You are a part of the greater future.”

  Hayden stayed still. He wasn’t sure where Paul and Shelly had got to. All he knew was that they’d run in this direction. He hoped they were safe. He hoped, whatever happened, they’d made it someplace safe.

  He hoped Miriam was safe.

  He hoped Sam was safe.

  “Then do what you have to do,” Hayden said.

  The light lowered.

  Lowered, for just a moment.

  Hayden took a deep breath.

  Made the most of the moment.

  He swung his right leg. Whacked it right into the man’s left shin. Hard.

  When the man lost his balance, Hayden dragged himself up. Threw himself at the man. Pushed him down to the ground.

  The man continued firing his gun. The gunshots so loud they were ringing in Hayden’s ears, chiming in his skull.

  He pushed the man’s right hand away. Pushed it down. Head-butted him, busting his own nose in the process.

  He did it again.

  And again.

  Until the man’s hand loosened.

  Until his grip on the gun gave way.

  Hayden snatched the gun from the man’s hand.

  Took the light from his left.

  Shone it down on his face.

  He saw the man. The olive-skinned man with the dark, curly hair. The brown eyes.

  He saw the blood all over his face.

  His bust lip.

  His swollen eyes.

  And he knew he’d done this.

  He’d done it because he had to.

  “Now it’s my turn to apologise,” Hayden said, heart racing, well aware of the one thing he had to do, the one action he had to take.

  He pressed the gun into the man’s chest.

  “No, please!”

  The man didn’t say another word.

  Not unless you count screaming as a word.

  Hayden fired the bullet right into the middle of the man’s chest. Felt his blood trickling down between his fingers.

  And then he stepped away.

  Shone the light on the man.

  Shone it on him as he struggled.

  As he writhed in agony.

  As he whimpered.

  He wanted to put him out of his misery. He wanted to finish him off, end his pain.

  But he knew there was something else to do.

  He knew there was another purpose behind his decision to shoot the man.

  Another reason.

  Hayden wasn’t sure how long he crouched there in the darkness, shining the light on the man.

  Shining it at him as he spluttered up blood.

  As his eyes glazed.

  As his skin greyed.

  And he wasn’t even sure whether he was in the right. He wasn’t sure whether his suspicions were correct.

  Just that he needed to know.

  He needed to see it for himself.

  See the same thing that’d happened to Anthony.

  See the same thing that’d happened to Bob.

  To Harold.

  To so many others.

  He’d almost given up hope when he saw the man’s left hand twitch.

  Hayden’s heartbeat sped up. He could be wrong. Could just be a trick of the light. Could be looking at things the wrong—

  Then the man’s head twisted to the left.

  His jaw snapped.

  A bloody, throaty gargle emerged from his throat.

  Hayden crouched there. Partly stunned. Partly in disbelief.

  But mostly relieved.

  Relieved, because his suspicions were true.

  Relieved, because his hopes were right.

  He wasn’t a carrier. There was no airborne virus.

  This was all a construction. All a construction by the people in power.

  All a method of selective infecting.

  With bullets. With injections. With knives. With God knows what else if it somehow got to little Tim. Maybe he’d just cut himself. Or maybe he’d ingested something. He didn’t know. Maybe he’d never know.

  But as he watched the man rise to his feet, blood still rolling down the front of his body, Hayden knew what mattered more than anything right now.

  What mattered was the truth.

  This gun had infected bullets in it.

  The gun that shot Anthony had infected bullets in it.

  The people behind the fences, running the camps, were using the infection as a weapon.

  He lowered the gun, reached for his wrench, and went to swing it at the neck of the man.

  Before he could, Hayden heard gunfire.

  He watched as blood spurted out of the man’s neck.

  Watched his head snap to one side.

  Watched the undead life seep from his body.

  Watched him tumble to the ground.

  He stood there. Silent. Listening to the echoing gunshot. Watching the blood roll out of the man’s neck.

  And then he heard the sound of shutters lifting to his right.

  Felt fresh air drifting into the tunnel.

  He turned.

  Saw a mass of people standing at the entrance to the city.

  Saw the look of shock in their eyes.

  The look of bewilderment.

  The look of fear.

  At the front of the group, a number of well-armed guards, all dressed in black.

  And in front of those, a man.

  He was short. Wearing a black suit. Dark brown hair thinning at the sides. A look of remorse on his face, but the staged sort. Like you often saw on television chat shows or reality TV before the world collapsed.

  He was looking right at the fallen man. The man who Hayden had shot.

  “And now you see,” the man said, his voice a perfect RP intonation. “Now you see what happens when a carrier comes into contact with one of our own.”

  And Hayden understood.

  Hayden understood what the man was saying.

  How the man was twisting this situation in his favour.

  The angry voices in the crowd lifted.

  The frustration built outside the tunnel.

  “We don’t need to witness any more violence this evening,” the posh man said. “Losing Luis in such circumstances is enough. Take him out.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Wait!”

  Hayden wasn’t sure where the voice came from. Somewhere within. Somewhere deep within him. A place that had more courage than he thought he had on the surface.

  But as he shouted the word, he noticed he hadn’t been shot. He noticed the men with the guns had indeed held their fire. That they were, in fact, waiting.

  He looked at them. Looked at them, the dim lights of the city glowing behind them. He looked into the terrified faces of the residents. Of the confused looks. They looked like they’d been through hell. Like they’d seen all there was to see.

  And Hayden hated to have to pull the wool from over their eyes. He hated to have to be the one to send their world crashing around them once again.

  But he had to try.

  “You can shoot me or you can at least listen,” Hayden shouted, his voice echoing against the tunnel walls. “To what I have to say.”

  Silence from the crowd. A growing redness in the face of the main man, the posh man in the suit.

  Hayden lowered the wrench. Pushed it away. And then he lowered the gun. Lowered the gun he’d shot the guy called Luis with. The gun that turned Luis. Just like the gun that turned Anthony.

  “I don’t want to threaten you. I don’t want you to think I’m just walking beyond your walls to cause trouble.”

 

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