The Virus, Lee, Damien [summer beach reads .txt] 📗

spun around and saw a large man disappear from view. She gripped onto the door handle as the car swerved onto the lane leading up to her grandparents’ house.

“How many are out there?” Glen whimpered as a hand smacked the window. Ben ignored him. The narrow beam of the headlights danced over the uneven ground. Amy gasped as a snarling man appeared, blocking their path. Ben floored the accelerator, sending the zombie reeling high into the air. The impact caused a headlight to shatter, plunging the left side of the track into darkness.

“Shit!” Ben spat.

They flinched as another loud bang came from the roof.

“It’s on top of the car!” Glen shrieked, cowering on the back seat.

With that, a body landed on the windshield. The man’s wide eyes stared at them as he clung to the bonnet.

“I can’t see!” Ben raged. Amy looked around helplessly as more snarling faces flashed past. She tried hard to think of a way out, but with so many undead surrounding them, they would be dead for sure if they stopped. She stared at the man on their windscreen, as a loud crack obliterated his head. Blood spattered over the glass as the body slid from the car. Moments later, a second gunshot echoed from the house.

“It’s my grandpa!” Amy cried as the zombies running alongside them began to fall.

“I still can’t see.” Ben turned the wipers on, but the blades smeared the blood further across the windscreen.

“There’s still some left!” Glen shouted as another gunshot filled the air.

Ben sprayed water onto the screen. The red liquid started to become transparent as the wipers dashed over the window. Their view ahead was clear, the remaining headlight lit up a vehicle right in front of them. Amy shrieked, bracing herself for impact as the car smashed into the stationary Land Rover. The collision threw her forward. She hit the dashboard hard, sending a wave of pain sweeping through her body.

She groaned, clutching her head as the gunshots continued to ring out. She glanced across at Ben, who was slumped over the steering wheel.

“Ben?”

He didn’t respond. She reached across to him, searching for a pulse. Another gunshot resonated.

“Ben.”

She heard movement behind her. Turning, she saw Glen looking out the windows, his quick head movements resembling a meerkat.

“They’re gone,” he said. “Let’s get the hell outta here.”

He threw open the door and jumped outside. Amy turned back to Ben and placed a hand on his chest. It rose steadily in time with his breathing.

“Thank god,” Amy muttered.

The driver’s door swung open.

“C’mon, we need to go.” Glen urged. “They’ve opened the door for us.”

“Ben’s unconscious. We can’t leave him.”

Glen turned back to the house. “We need help to get this guy in!”

Amy’s eyes narrowed as a female voice sounded from the farmhouse.

“Frank, we need you.”

The voice seemed unfamiliar, but she could not get a look at the woman. Amy stepped out of the car, her head throbbing as she got to her feet. The sound of hurried footsteps from the house caught her attention. She stared at the rugged gunman as he approached the car, muttering under his breath.

“Who are you?” She demanded.

The man paid her no heed as he leaned into the car. He came back up moments later, dragging Ben across the ground.

“Who are you?” she repeated, following them towards the house.

“Shut up and get inside! I can’t shoot those fuckers with this prick in my arms.” With that, he dragged Ben over the threshold and vanished from sight.

“Come on,” Glen said, pulling on her sleeve as he made for the house.

Amy followed, noticing another unfamiliar person in the doorway.

“You must be Amy,” the woman said.

“Yeah, who the hell are you? Where are my grandparents?”

“Let’s go inside, there could be more out here.”

Reluctantly, Amy stepped into the house. She watched the young woman slide all the locks into place.

“Everyone’s in the living room.” The woman said, sweeping her blonde hair out of her face.

“Where are my grandparents?”

Before she could get an answer, a confrontation sounded in the next room.

“Three people! What are we running, a hotel?”

Amy recognised the voice as that belonging to the gunman. She walked into the living room as he rounded on Glen.

“So which one of you is the boyfriend?” He raged, looking between the trembling man and the unconscious guard on the floor.

“What do you mean boyfriend?” Amy snapped, crouching down to Ben’s aid. His pulse felt normal, and the rise and fall of his chest comforted her. She pinched his arm, but he didn’t respond.

“Is he dead?” Glen asked.

 “One of you get me a light.” Amy looked from face to face until the unknown woman disappeared into the kitchen. She returned seconds later with a torch. Amy took it without words and lifted Ben’s eyelid, shining the beam over his pupil.

“What are you, a nurse?” the rugged man asked.

“Yes,” Amy replied as Ben started to move. She looked up at the gunman. “Where are my grandparents?”

The rage in his eyes depleted, and at once Amy knew their fate. She looked back at Ben as he raised a hand to his head. He blinked hard, wincing as his fingers roamed over a gash in his hair.

“More company?” The query came from a dark-haired teenager who had appeared in the doorway.

“Yeah,” the gunman replied. “The granddaughter and her boyfriends.”

Amy ignored the remark as she helped Ben sit up.

“What happened?” he groaned.

“We crashed into a car.”

“Whoa, have they trashed the fat twat’s Land Rover?” the teenager asked excitedly as she made her way to the window.

“Yeah, it’s completely written off.” The gunman sneered.

The teenager snorted as Ben got to his feet.

“Who are you lot?” he asked, eyeing the people