Dead Days: Season 8 Part 10

Or the people around them?

The people had left Old Bill on the ground. They'd left his head there, his teeth snapping, and his eyes wandering.

Andrew had walked up to him. He'd looked down into his eyes. He'd seen and felt that connection all over again. And for the first time, Andrew felt sad. But it was Old Bill's sadness. Old Bill's pain.

He wanted to stay by his side.

He wanted to at least put Old Bill out of his misery.

But he didn't have a choice, so on he'd walked.

And here he was, still walking right now.

He saw movement up ahead then. At first, Andrew wasn't sure what it was. His eyes didn't focus as well nowadays. A vehicle? People? Or...

As he staggered closer, Andrew felt what nerves he had left tingling and building up inside.

He felt total tension at what he was looking at.

The movement had stopped. In fact, it might not have been moving at all. Just looked like it because of the sheer number.

But now that Andrew was close, he could have no doubts about what he was looking at.

He drifted towards them, inside the crowd of undead. No, not a crowd. Crowd was underplaying what this was.

This was an army.

He stepped through people of all genders, all races, all ages. He looked into the eyes of some of them, and they looked back at him. And step by step, Andrew felt that connection. He felt that sense that he was with his kind. That no matter what the monster controlling their body was going to force them to do, they were all in this together.

He stood still for hours. Days, even, as more like him were drawn towards this force of nature like a magnet.

He stood still, totally content, totally at peace, surrounded by... friends.

And then, on the fifth day, Andrew started to walk.

So too did the army around him.

They were going somewhere.

And wherever they were going, one thing was for certain.

There was going to be death.

Amy looked towards the army of undead in the distance, and she swallowed a lump in her throat.

"Batten down the hatches," she said. "They're here."

Chapter One.

Riley looked at the sea of undead standing between his position and Mattius' camp and he wasn't sure what to do.

The morning sun was low, illuminating the undead horde right before him. He knew they were looking in his and Kane's direction, some of them even heading towards them now. He knew the wise thing to do would be to run. To get the h.e.l.l away from here.

But Mattius.

Mattius had Kesha.

He had to get his revenge.

He had to- "Riley!"

Kane's shout snapped Riley out of his trance. He looked at Kane and the sounds of the groans, the building rumble of the footsteps, the taste of death in the air, all of it came together in a sudden bolt of energy and force.

"We have to get away from here," Kane said. "We can't stand around here and let ourselves get torn to pieces."

"What do you care what happens to me?"

"I care what happens to myself. Besides. I have much bigger plans for you. Now come on."

Kane started running towards the trees, but Riley turned around again and faced the undead storming towards him, the cuffs still around his wrists. He saw their faces, but not as they were. He saw Jordanna's face on one. Chlo's face on another. He saw Anna's face. Claudia's face. Ted's face.

He saw Tamara. James. Everyone. All the people he'd lost walking towards him, preparing to tear him open.

Then he saw the faces of the people back at Amy's camp, and as much as he wanted to fight through this horde of undead, he knew he couldn't just stay around here.

He wanted to get to Mattius-to get to Kesha-but trying to do that right now was suicide.

The creatures got within ten metres of him.

Some stumbled ahead of others.

Within seconds, they'd be on to him.

"Riley!" Kane shouted.

Riley turned around just as the over-extended arm of a woman in her mid-twenties made a lunge for him.

He turned around, away from Mattius' camp, away from everything he'd been looking for this whole month.

And he ran into the woods.

The more he ran, the more it felt like he was being chased. Sure, he and Kane could outrun the undead. But the sheer numbers of them made this run feel like he was sprinting down one of those corridors in a nightmare where it just keeps on growing in front of you.

If they b.u.mped into anything ahead of them, they'd be f.u.c.ked.

Completely and utterly f.u.c.ked.

There was no time to slow down.

There were no opportunities to take a breather.

He ran further, Kane at his side. Kane had a gun, but he didn't seem to be too keen on using it. Probably wise. There were too many of the dead chasing them to do anything about anyway. It'd just be like swatting a wasp. They'd just make the crowd even angrier.

"So you think heading back to camp's a good idea?"

"You can do whatever the h.e.l.l you want," Riley said. "You can stay out here for all I care. I'm going back."

"Drawing the undead back to the place you care about so dearly? How selfless you are."

"f.u.c.k you," Riley said.

He ran ahead of Kane. But as he tried to move ahead, he saw Kane lift his pistol and point it at him.

"Any sudden moves. Any attempts to get away. You know how this ends."

He lowered the pistol and aimed it at Riley's legs.

"A bullet in the kneecap. Then torn apart by those things. You know, I'm getting more and more tempted to just trade in my initial plan and get on with it right now."

"Like to see you try," Riley said.

Kane smiled, like he was genuinely enjoying all this drama. It made Riley feel sick.

They kept on running through the woods. Riley was careful to keep his footing at all times. The cuffs were still tied around his wrists behind his back, which wasn't making his movement all that easy. Then again, Kane was missing half a hand, so they were both at a disadvantage, in a sense.

"I say we take a left," Kane said. "Try to zigzag and lose them."

"Zigzagging just loses us ground. Best thing to do's just power forward."

"I'm the one holding the gun, remember?"

"And I'm the one who has you in a cell. A cell that you're going back into as soon as we get back to camp. If I'm that lenient with you."

Kane's eyes narrowed and twitched. "Don't push your luck. Don't you dare-"

"Or what? You'll shoot me?"

"I can think of ways to-"

"Quit the bulls.h.i.+t about how you're going to kill me in horrible ways. If you were going to do it, you'd have done it already. Nah, I think you like me being alive. Maybe it's something you see in me. Maybe you respect the fact that I've kept on bouncing back. Or that I've kept you alive. I don't know what it is. But I know you've had lots of chances to pull that trigger and still you-"

Riley heard the blast. And for a second, as a splitting pain spread through his right ear, Riley was convinced he'd been shot.

But then as the seconds pa.s.sed, the pain faded, his ear still ringing.

Kane had the gun pointed just to the left of Riley's head.

"I'm not afraid to pull the trigger," he said. "And if you don't shut up, I'll make it a few inches to the right next time. You might think you're special, Riley. And you're right. I'm having fun watching you collapse. But you are not special. There were many before you, and there will be many after you. For now, just be grateful you're still alive. Because if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be."

Riley increased his pace again. He could still hear the undead behind, but they sounded much further away now. A st.i.tch crippled his chest, and he was glad for a bit of ground on the creatures. "You know the way back to camp?"

Kane smiled. "See? You need me more than you th..."

Kane didn't finish speaking.

His face dropped.

His skin went grey.

His eyes widened as he focused on something right ahead.

"What is it?" Riley asked.

Kane lifted a finger to his lips.

"Kane, what..."

He didn't finish what he was saying.

He didn't have to, because he heard the groan.

Then more groans.

Then footsteps.

He looked ahead and he saw what was right in front of them.

Another wall of creatures.

Another, just as thick as the one chasing them.

Then more to the left.

And more to the right.

"We're surrounded," Riley said, as more of the creatures closed in, filling in the gaps-the potential escape routes-rapidly. "We're f.u.c.king surrounded."