How had this happened?

  How had so many creatures breached these walls?

  How had…

  He stopped running, stopped thinking, when he reached the end of the alleyway.

  He looked at the wall. The south side. The place where Hassan and Jordanna cleared out the excess creatures.

  There used to be a cage there. A fence to keep the creatures outside. Several fences, just in case.

  Now, there was just a hole.

  A hole that tens of creatures were swarming through, slicing their skin on the metal on entry, not caring.

  Hundreds of creatures.

  Thousands of creatures.

  All flooding into the Manchester Living Zone.

  All hungry for one thing.

  People.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Riley did the only thing he could when he saw the mass of creatures flooding through the breach in the Manchester Living Zone walls.

  He ran.

  He sprinted in the opposite direction. Sprinted into the darkness. The night sky illuminated every now and then with gunfire. The sound of shouting, screaming, groaning, all of it droned on, unwavering, unstoppable.

  Riley felt his heart racing. His breathing was distorted, difficult. The scar where he’d been stabbed by Mr Fletch stung, like it always did nowadays whenever he physically exerted himself. An oncoming cloud of rot drifted through the air, spoiling the night, disturbing the already sickly tastes in Riley’s mouth.

  He wanted to help. He wanted to help the MLZ defend itself. He wanted to help keep the creatures away from his home.

  But above that, above everything, he wanted to find Jordanna.

  No. He needed to find Jordanna. He needed to know she was safe.

  So he carried on running down the cobbled road, away from the breach, away from the chaos, and towards his apartment complex.

  He saw people in their windows. Saw them peeking through their curtains. He saw the fear in their eyes. The terror on their faces. And as much as it irked him, as much as he knew this place needed to be strong if it was to survive an attack on this scale, he understood it.

  The people here had grown used to safety. They’d grown accustomed to security.

  Loss wasn’t in their dictionary. Their vocabulary. Not anymore.

  As he ran down the street, he thought about Jordanna. He hoped to God she’d gone back to their place tonight. Hoped she’d found her way there. Otherwise, he didn’t have a clue where she’d stayed, and couldn’t even begin trying to find her.

  A knotting sensation tangled in his stomach.

  A sickliness in his throat.

  No. He knew exactly where she’d gone if she hadn’t gone back to their place.

  Hassan’s place.

  Fucking Hassan’s place.

  He slipped on a few of the cobbles. Regained his balance. Looked over his shoulder instinctively.

  He couldn’t see the mass of creatures. Not anymore. The gunfire was louder than ever, though. Lights filled the sky.

  Shit.

  They’d done such a good job keeping this place on the low from the outside world. Now anyone could just wander in.

  Any thing could just wander in.

  He turned back around and ran towards his apartment complex.

  The alleyways between the police station and his apartment were narrow and impossible to manoeuvre. Like a maze or a labyrinth, both of which he’d been shit at sussing out when he was the age where mazes and labyrinths were the height of his worries.

  But he had to take this route because it was quicker.

  He had to take the alleyways, and just hope his vague sense of direction wouldn’t hold him back too much.

  He was in there for a while. The walls felt like they were closing in. And as he ran around left turns, right turns, he pictured finding Tamara’s body on the ground.

  Tamara’s brutalised body.

  The horror in her eyes.

  The blood moon shining down.

  His thoughts were interrupted when he saw the alleyway exit. When he saw the old HMV shop up ahead. The one right next to his apartment block.

  He tightened his fists. Ran out of the alleyway. He was close. Close to Jordanna. Close to finding her. And when he found her, they could figure out what to do. Where to go from here.

  When he found her, he could prove his worth.

  To this community.

  To her.

  To himself.

  He slowed down when he heard an explosion to his left. A blast, over by the south side of the wall, right where the breach was. And as he looked in its direction, he saw the dim, slight movement of figures.

  Hordes of creatures still forcing their way inside the MLZ.

  Unstoppable.

  Never-ending.

  “Fuck.”

  He ran across the road. Pushed open the apartment block door. He had to try and find Jordanna before the creatures filled the street. He had to get to his apartment.

  He lunged up the stairs.

  She had to be here. She fucking had to be here.

  Ran down the corridor towards his apartment.

  Please be home. Please be home…

  He put a hand on the door.

  It swung open without even needing to unlock it.

  “Jordanna!”

  It was dark inside. The curtains were still open wide.

  Just like he’d left them.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat as he climbed over the bin bags. The bags filled with beer bottles.

  Right where he’d left them.

  He put a hand through his hair. Chest swelling up, adrenaline multiplying.

  She wasn’t here.

  She wasn’t fucking here.

  He turned around. Ran out of the apartment. Past the closed, locked doors of the fellow citizens. Past the eyes he knew were watching behind the peepholes.

  Panicked.

  Terrified.

  Lost.

  “Just—just stay in your rooms,” Riley called, as he ran back towards the stairs, towards the door.

  He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of his voice barking out commands.

  It reminded him of being a leader too much.

  He reached the bottom of the stairs. Ran across reception. Pushed through the main doors.

  So he had to get to Hassan’s place.

  Hated the thought, but he had to get there.

  How far? A mile. A mile to the left. A mile across town.

  He could make it. Ten minutes, maybe less if he really went for it.

  He started to jog down the steps of the apartment block.

  He stopped when he heard the groans to his right.

  They were close. Very close. And there were lots of them.

  And when he looked and realised they were just a matter of metres away, Riley heard more groans.

  These ones coming from the alleyway.

  Closing in on his position.

  He looked around at the crowd of creatures staggering along the road, edging towards him.

  He looked at the pieces of flesh that’d been blasted away by the guards’ guns.

  He saw guards. Guards he thought he recognised.

  He saw the faces of people he knew.

  He swallowed. Held his ground.

  He wasn’t letting himself see the dead face of anyone else he knew.

  Not for anything.

  So he turned.

  Sprinted towards Hassan’s place.

  He didn’t see the third group of creatures approaching from the side of the HMV store.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “We can’t just sit around in here and watch this place go to shit. You know we can’t.”

  “It’s the only thing we can do, Jordanna.”

  “Bullshit. This is our home. We’re supposed to protect this place. We’re not supposed to abandon our people. Not like this.”

  Jordanna looked into Hassan’s glazed eyes. The light in the room was dim. With good reason, really. It might’ve been an eighth storey apartment that Hassan lived at, but neither of them wanted to draw any attention to this block.

  First, because they’d been sleeping together.

  But now?

  Well. A crowd of fucking zombies swarming through the streets.

  Jordanna paced around Hassan’s living room. Scratched at her arms. She felt sick. So sick that she could taste it. The smell of Hassan’s aftershave made her want to heave, too. ’Cause it reminded her. Reminded her of what she’d done. Of what she’d never even intended to do.

  Of what just… happened.

  “This is wrong, Hassan.”

  “You chose—”

  “Not us. Not fucking us. This. Us being up here while the people on the ground—”

  Jordanna’s voice was interrupted by another round of gunfire, another blast of an explosion.

  She looked Hassan in his tired eyes. Shook her head. “You see? We can’t just stay up here. We can’t just stay up here and watch our people die.”

  She turned. Walked towards Hassan’s apartment door.

  She felt something grab her arm. Felt it dig into her skin. Hold her back. There was force there. Such force that she couldn’t figure it out. Couldn’t figure out what it was. Where it came from.

  It was only when she turned around and saw Hassan holding her arm that she realised exactly what it was.

  She narrowed her eyes. Yanked her arm away. “Get your fucking hand off me.”

  Hassan didn’t let go. He kept his grip on her. But he didn’t look angry. Didn’t look anything for that matter.

  He just stared. Stared into her eyes with that glazed look of his.

  “There is no protecting this place. There is no protecting any place. Not anymore.”

  The words sent a shiver down Jordanna’s arms. Something was wrong. Something was wrong about the way Hassan was speaking. And as terrifying as the gunfire and the growing cries of the undead intercepting their safe haven was, there was nothing more terrifying than the sense of wrongness in this room right now.

  There was something wrong with Hassan.

  He let go of her arm. Lowered his head. Brushed back his hair. “Sorry. I…”

  “You’re bleeding.”

  Hassan lifted his head. Looked at Jordanna again.

  She saw it clearly now. Saw the blood streaming down from his nostrils. The sheen of redness in the whites of his eyes.

  He wiped the blood away from his nose but it wouldn’t stop streaming.

  His face looked all the more pale.

  “You… you should go to the bathroom. Get yourself cleaned up.”

  Hassan looked spaced out. He put his hand in front of his nostrils. Let the blood trickle out onto his fingers, but that didn’t do a thing to stop it falling out onto the floor. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

  He turned away. Walked towards the bathroom.

  Jordanna waited. She stood still. Like standing still would make a difference.

  She waited until she heard Hassan turn the tap before walking across the lounge.

  Unzipped her rucksack.

  Reached in for her…

  Her gun.

  Her fucking gun.

  Where was it?

  Where had he put it?

  She needed to get out of here. She needed to get far away from here. She didn’t know what was wrong, only that something was wrong.

  She needed her gun.

  But fuck. She’d have to do without it.

  She started to stand when she saw Hassan leaning against the bathroom door.

  His eyes were wide. The tap was still running behind him.

  Blood dripped down from his nostrils, over his lips, seeping from the bottom of his chin.

  The pair of them looked at one another. Hassan looked at Jordanna like he knew. Like he knew exactly what she was looking for. What she was doing.

  “Where’s my gun, Hassan?” Jordanna asked. Her voice was shaky. Crackly.

  He didn’t respond. He just sniffed up that blood.

  “Hassan, this isn’t a fucking joke. Where is my—”

  A knock.

  A knock at the door.

  Jordanna looked at the door. And so too did Hassan. He turned, in an instant, just like that.

  The pair of them stood in silence. Stood, just staring at the door, waiting to see if anyone said anything, the groaning creatures and screaming citizens playing like a soundtrack in the background.

  “Hello?” Jordanna called.

  Nobody responded.

  But she needed to know the truth.

  She needed to look through the peephole.

  She needed to see who it was.

  She walked slowly across Hassan’s carpet. Kept her eye on him with every step. He seemed more aware now. More conscious. The bleeding had eased, and some colour had returned to his cheeks.

  But there was still something wrong with him.

  Maybe what Riley said was true. Maybe there really was something going on inside these walls.

  She stepped closer to the door. The silence outside was a noise in itself, deafening, painful.

  She held her breath as she reached the door.

  As she leaned towards the peephole.

  Looked outside.

  There was nobody there. Nobody standing in the corridor. Just the door opposite.

  Jordanna’s skin shivered. Someone had knocked. Someone had definitely knocked.

  She started to turn away when Cal appeared out of nowhere.

  Jordanna jumped back. Caught her breath. “Fuck. Fuck.”

  She looked back through the peephole. Saw Cal out there. He looked like he’d been crying. Looked dirty, too, like he was in need of a good wash.

  “Please. Please let me in.”

  Jordanna didn’t think she’d ever heard as much sadness in Cal’s voice before. He was usually so aloof. Usually so cocky.

  He looked—and sounded—broken down.

  “Please. Please.”

  Jordanna reached down for the handle. Unlocked the door. Opened it up.

  “Riley?” Hassan muttered.

  She turned around. Narrowed here eyes. “What?”

  Hassan stared out of the window.

  Riley? Had he seen Riley? Was Riley here? Or was he just…

  Jordanna looked back outside the door.

  Cal was standing there.

  Only…

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  She started to close the door but Cal shoved his foot between it.

  Jordanna slammed it. Slammed the door hard against Cal’s foot. All because of what was in his hands. All because of what he was holding.

  But he didn’t budge.

  Not at first.

  Then, he slammed the door back.

  Pushed Jordanna to the floor of Hassan’s apartment.

  “I just want to be safe,” Cal said, sobbing tears of blood. “I just want to be safe again.”

  Blood streamed out of every orifice on display.

  Eyes.

  Nostrils.

  Ears.

  Mouth.

  Blood drooled to the floor as he stepped closer and closer to Jordanna.

  But it wasn’t the blood that terrified her the most.

  It wasn’t even the spaced-out look in his eyes.

  It was the knife in his right hand.

  The tape in his left.

  And the laughter that crackled from the back of his throat.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Riley wasn’t sure how much more running he could manage.

  The night seemed to be getting cooler, biting at his hands. His feet wrecked. Blisters burst on the soles of his feet, new blisters formed almost instantly.

  He hadn’t run this much in ages. He hadn’t had to run this much in ages.

  He didn’t have a choice.

  As the sounds of the groans echoed behind him, as the footsteps of the creatures staggered closer, Riley found himself grateful that these fuckers weren’t runners. But he didn’t want to be grateful for anything. Usually, this world had a way of taking what you were grateful for, reversing it and shoving it up your ass.

  He wasn’t prepared to have anything shoved up his ass. Not today.

  He looked ahead. Looked down the road. His throat was dry. His breathing was difficult. Hassan’s apartment block rose above the immediate skyline. He could see dim lights in the windows. He wasn’t too happy about heading that direction. He knew it was a gamble.

  But he knew it was the best chance he had of finding Jordanna.

  As much as he fucking hated the idea that she was anywhere near that lowlife cunt.

  He kept on running when he heard more groans.

  This time, they came from his left, behind him. From the side of the HMV near his apartment complex.

  He stared back at them. A stumbling mass of them, tripping over one another, stamping on each other’s heads—the unlucky ones, at least.

  No. They were the lucky ones. They got to escape this nightmare.

  Riley wasn’t sure where the hell all these creatures were coming from. He wasn’t sure why they’d been so attracted to the MLZ all of a sudden. But he knew they adapted. He knew they grew, developed, like a flu virus. A living, breathing manifestation of a virus, adapting and changing depending on its surroundings. Alan Mixter had explained it to him once upon a time.

  At least, he’d explained his theory.

  There was so much about the virus no one understood.

  He’d barely even seen the tip of the iceberg.

  As Riley ran, gritting his teeth as the pain of the blisters seared the bottom of his feet, he thought about something else. The mass of creatures. The directions they were coming from. There was no way they were all just coming through that one breach in the walls. There had to be more.

  There had to be many breaches.

  This place was crumbling.

  Collapsing.

  He knew that if they kept on flooding in at this rate, there’d be no saving the MLZ.

  But he couldn’t think about that right now.

  All he could think about was getting to Jordanna.

  Or at least, hoping and praying Jordanna was in Hassan’s place.

  Not something he ever thought he’d be feeling.

  He pressed on. Pressed on through the wracking pain in his muscles. Pressed on through the tightness in his chest. The anxiety crippling his stomach. His bladder always played tricks on him when he was nervous. So he wanted nothing more than to take a piss right now. To let it all out.