And then he shuffled further down the drainpipe.

  “We need to face it,” James said. “We’re fucked.”

  “We’re not fucked,” Jordanna shouted.

  “We’ve never been more fucked than—”

  “Can you both please stop saying ‘fucked’?” Riley said. “For fuck’s sake.”

  A silence. Well. A moderate one anyway. A silence not including the groans. And the footsteps. And the peppering spray of gunfire on the other side of town. And the screams.

  Yeah. Pretty silent other than that.

  In the puzzled silence, Riley thought about what Jordanna said. About Hassan. About how he was acting weird before Cal got to his room. He’d seemed okay. His usual arsey self, but considering Riley had just discovered he’d been screwing the woman he loved, that was probably to be expected more than ever.

  “I… I think I see something.”

  Hassan’s voice sounded so far away. But when Riley looked down at him, he saw Hassan staring over at the apartments opposite.

  “What’d he say?” James called.

  “He—he says he sees something.”

  James scoffed. “That something is a thousand frigging zombies.”

  “Not zombies,” Hassan said. “Over… over there. On the other side. Do you see them?”

  Riley turned. But doing so distorted his balance. “I can’t—”

  “I see them,” Jordanna said.

  “See what?”

  “People.”

  Riley tried to turn again. Probably best to keep his focus off the road below after all.

  He looked over at the apartment block opposite. The creatures didn’t seem to be surrounding that place quite as much. Natural, considering they were dangling from a drainpipe like meat on a spit.

  “I don’t see anyone.”

  “On the first floor,” Jordanna said. “Above the reception.”

  “I don’t…”

  And then Riley saw them.

  Four people. All of them up against the window. All of them staring at Riley, Jordanna, Hassan and James. Shining a torch.

  “Well?” James said. “Not a lot they can do about us being stuck up here.”

  Riley felt his heart increasing in pace. “I don’t think that’s totally true.”

  He raised a hand. Waved at the group.

  “What’re you—”

  “I’m thinking maybe we can help each other out.”

  Riley waved. Shouted. Jordanna and Hassan joined in. As did James, although a little more reluctantly.

  Riley was well aware that he was attracting more creatures to their side of the road in doing this. But that meant more creatures were drifting away from the front of the apartment block opposite.

  Which meant more chance of these people escaping.

  More chance of them helping Riley out. Helping his group out.

  It was a long shot, but it was something.

  Riley kept on shouting. Kept on waving. The drainpipe creaked every now and then, but he didn’t think anything of it. He couldn’t.

  He could only focus on the people in the apartment opposite.

  Leaving their room.

  Making a break for the reception.

  At least he hoped.

  “Where’ve they gone?” James asked.

  “Just wait,” Riley said.

  They waited. Waited, shouting a little more.

  “I don’t think they—”

  “There!” Riley said.

  He saw them. Saw the group of four outside the apartment block. Saw them running to the left. Running down the road. Towards the alleyways. Towards… well, Riley didn’t know where exactly. He could only hope they knew an exit.

  “They’re running off.”

  “Too right,” Riley said.

  “But I thought they were supposed to…”

  James stopped speaking when he heard the noise.

  “Is that…”

  Riley smiled. He couldn’t help but smile.

  A horn.

  A car horn.

  Blasting repeatedly.

  Turning the creatures’ attention away from Riley and the others.

  Towards that alleyway.

  Towards easier prey.

  “Idiots,” James said. “Fucking idiots.”

  “No,” Riley said. “They’re not. Because when we get down there, we’re going to help them.”

  “And how’re we going to do that?”

  Riley looked down at the road below. Emptying of creatures. Space to walk along. Space to walk through. “We’re going to—”

  Riley felt the weight on his left side.

  The rest of the events unfolded in slow motion.

  He felt the weight dragging him down.

  The weight of a falling creature.

  He tried to hold onto the pipe but lost his grip.

  Tried again with his right hand to keep holding on, but…

  His fingers slipped.

  Nothing was supporting him.

  He was falling.

  Falling to the road below.

  Falling to broken legs. To a shattered pelvis.

  Falling to an army of hungry mouths all ready to tear him to pieces.

  And there was nothing he could do about it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A lot of thoughts spun through Riley’s mind in the few short, terrifying moments that he hurtled towards the road.

  He thought about Jordanna. Thought about Ted. But as the grip of the creature grew tighter around his left arm, as it prepared to sink its manky teeth into his skin, Riley found himself thinking about Anna more than anyone, more than anything.

  How different things would’ve been if she’d still been here.

  How different everything would’ve been if—

  She wasn’t here.

  She was gone.

  Everyone was gone.

  He had to accept that and he had to act.

  He swung around in mid-air. Swung so that he was on top of the creature. So that the creature was underneath him.

  He saw the creature’s mouth open.

  Saw it wrap its teeth around his arm.

  All in the flicker of a second, two seconds, he had all these thoughts, saw all these things.

  He braced himself for impact with the road.

  Just like the impact he’d had with the wall in his car.

  Just like—

  He felt the blow.

  Felt the road smack into his body, like it’d taken on a terrifying form and pace of its own.

  He felt his left shoulder snap out of place and he knew right away he’d done some damage.

  And then his forehead cracked forward.

  Smacked into the creature’s chest.

  And then he stopped.

  He stayed there. Stayed still for a few seconds, maybe longer, maybe not as long.

  He could still hear the footsteps of the creatures on the road.

  He could still feel the pain in his shoulder.

  Taste the bitter cocktail of blood and stomach acid on his lips.

  He lifted his stiff neck, being careful as possible not to move his left arm.

  He was on the road. He’d hit the road.

  Only the creature that’d grabbed him was underneath him.

  Its head had cracked on contact with the road.

  A puddle of fleshy blood surrounded it.

  But it’d softened Riley’s blow.

  It’d kept him alive.

  Riley started to laugh. He knew it was irrational. He wasn’t even sure where it came from. But he couldn’t stop laughing.

  He couldn’t die.

  No matter what he tried—no matter whether he drove into a wall, got himself bitten, or fell off a fucking building—he couldn’t die.

  His laughter stopped when he heard Jordanna shout his name.

  And when he lifted his head further, he saw the army of creatures walking towards him.

  He stood. The pain in his left shoulder was sharp, crippling. He backed towards the pavement. He could go inside. Go back into Hassan’s apartment. Get back to…

  He heard the creatures behind. The creatures stood on the stairs of Hassan’s apartment block.

  Standing, and staring at him.

  He swallowed a lump in his throat. Held his ground.

  There was a sea of creatures in front of him. And… well, not quite a sea, but definitely a hefty frigging river of them behind him.

  He had to get away from them.

  He had to get Jordanna, James, Hassan away from them.

  He walked over to the drainpipe.

  And then he stopped.

  He could climb up there and they’d be trapped together. All of them would be trapped together. And sure, somebody else would be there to take the lead. Sure, somebody else would be there to make the decisions. The tough decisions. The impossible decisions. The decisions Riley used to make. Used to be capable of making.

  Or he could try something else.

  Try to fight.

  Try to survive.

  “Riley, quick!”

  He looked up at Jordanna. Looked into her eyes. And this time when he saw her, he didn’t see the woman who’d slept with Hassan. He didn’t see the woman who’d screwed that arsehole behind his back. Not literally.

  He saw the woman he loved.

  The woman he cared for.

  The woman he’d survived with right since the start, albeit on different paths.

  “I’m going to get us out of here,” Riley said.

  Jordanna narrowed her eyes. “Riley? What’re you… Riley!”

  He heard Jordanna’s cries as he walked away from the drainpipe. Heard her protestations as he turned his walk to a jog, his jog to a run.

  He heard her as he ran away from her.

  Ran away from the woman he cared about.

  As the creatures closed the gaps he’d stood in just seconds ago, as the pain in his left shoulder grew more and more nauseating, more and more intense.

  He ran because he had to.

  Not because he wanted to. Not because he needed to in order to keep himself alive.

  But because he had to.

  To save Jordanna.

  But as he reached the bottom of the road, the group of creatures all in tow, Riley couldn’t help turning back. Looking at Jordanna.

  This time, he saw the look in her eyes that frightened him the most.

  The look that kept him awake at night.

  That haunted his nightmares to this day.

  Riley saw the look of that woman he’d left behind on day one. The look of that woman who realised she was going to die.

  Or worse.

  The look of that woman who realised she was going to be left to survive all alone.

  He thought about going back there. Going back right now and joining her. Being with her.

  But he couldn’t.

  The lines of wretched-smelling creatures walking towards him made sure of that.

  He only had one way to go.

  Only had one place to go.

  And right now, one bad option was better than none at all.

  So he turned around.

  Turned away from the creatures.

  Away from his people.

  Away from Jordanna.

  He faced the looming wall.

  He ran.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Dean Carter always knew that Riley Jameson was one crazy motherfucker.

  But when he saw him sprinting down Main Street—a Main Street infested by those bitey creeps—he figured he’d underestimated his level of crazy all along.

  It was still dark outside. Four a.m. The night felt like it’d been stretching on forever. In a way, it didn’t even feel like the sun was gonna rise at all. And Dean wasn’t sure he wanted it to. ’Cause he knew if the sun rose when the creeps were still all over their city, it’d just confirm the reality of their situation. Ram it home in all its awful glory.

  The creeps and the night went hand in hand.

  But in the day?

  He wasn’t sure he was ready to see these bastards invading his city in the day.

  He wasn’t sure he was ready to be locked away in his room, slowly burning through what little supplies they had up here between the three of them, in the day.

  “You should come away from the blinds. Get some rest. The situation out there isn’t gonna change.”

  Dean lowered the thin metal blind. Turned and looked at Kayla, his sister. Well, stepsister anyway. She was perched on the side of the double bed. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Nice legs.

  He knew he was wrong for thinking that way, but hell. No one was arresting him for his thoughts.

  “I dunno,” Dean said. “Three of ’em are still hanging from that drainpipe opposite.”

  “Then let them hang.”

  “You really are a ruthless bitch, aren’t you?”

  Kayla smiled. Her eyes glistened in that faux-innocent way that always turned him on.

  He remembered the day he’d first developed feelings for his stepsister. He’d moved in with her back when he was seven; she was nine. They got on well, like a house on fire, Mum used to say. But there was never anything remotely… sibling about them. It was like they were friends. School friends.

  And then when Dean was sixteen and Kayla eighteen, she came in from a night on the town and… well, it just happened.

  They kept their relationship a secret. Mostly through shame. Hell, they were both in their thirties now. Couldn’t drop a bombshell like that on the family. Not that they really had any family left to drop a bombshell on.

  They’d both gone their separate ways. Both married other people.

  But sometimes, just sometimes…

  Well, it happened.

  Nature took a hold.

  “Rosita’s gone quiet,” Kayla said.

  She rubbed a hand up her soft thigh and Dean felt himself getting hard in a way that his gorgeous Thai wife couldn’t even manage. Yes, a Thai woman called Rosita. It was possible. To her, it was “very sexy and English.” Dean liked that about Rosita. He liked her innocence.

  But Kayla was always a contrast to that innocence.

  He tasted sweat on his lips as the sound of screams and shouts echoed outside.

  Kayla uncrossed her legs.

  Just for a moment, Dean got a peek.

  A peek of his ultimate weakness.

  A peek of his poison.

  He wanted her. He wanted to fuck her so bad. ’Cause it didn’t matter what anyone thought anymore. The rules had all changed in this new world. People ate people now. If that wasn’t a fucking disruption, Dean didn’t know what was.

  But he felt bad. He felt bad for Rosita. That niggling guilt that always came back to rear its ugly motherfucker of a head.

  Besides, she’d been feeling ill today. Lot of nosebleeds. Ear-bleeds too, if there was such a thing. Sick a few times.

  He couldn’t bail on Rosita when she needed him most.

  Dean sighed. Felt his hard cock softening. He walked past Kayla. Put a hand on her shoulder. “Another time.”

  He walked around the bed and towards the bathroom door.

  He was suddenly struck by just how long Rosita had been in the bathroom.

  Just how quiet she’d been.

  He stopped. Stopped right in front of the door. “Rosita?”

  Nothing. No response at all.

  He turned back. Looked at Kayla.

  “She okay?”

  “I don’t know if she’s okay,” Dean said. “How the fuck am I supposed to know if she’s okay?”

  “Maybe if she isn’t okay, we can…” She licked her lips. Raised an eyebrow teasingly.

  Dean tutted. Shook his head. “Fuck you. Fuck you.”

  He looked back at the bathroom door. “Rosita, honey. You alright in there?”

  Nothing.

  No words.

  No sounds at all.

  Again.

  The fear started to build up in Dean’s chest. He’d heard rumours. Rumours of some kind of virus going about. Some kind of bug that turned people crazy. Talk of that red moon playing with people’s heads.

  Nah. That was all bullshit. Surely that was all bullshit.

  But he had to see his wife.

  He had to know she was okay.

  “I’m gonna open the door now, Rosita. I’m gonna open the door.”

  “You could just open it and stop saying you’re going to open it,” Kayla muttered.

  Dean did his best to ignore her. She was like a demon on his shoulder. A hot demon who’d sat on his shoulder ever since he’d popped his cherry with her that awful, guilt-filled, but fucking fantastic night in April.

  He put a hand on the bathroom handle. He knew it was no use. Rosita always locked the door. She always…

  The handle turned.

  Dean stood still for a few moments. Stood completely still. He felt a tingle work its way up the back of his spine.

  Rosita always locked the door.

  She always locked the door, and now she was silent.

  Now she was…

  He saw the blood on the white bathroom tiles through a crack in the ajar door.

  He wanted to open up. Wanted to see Rosita was okay. To know everything was fine.

  But another part of him didn’t want to see.

  It didn’t want to know.

  He wanted to believe she was okay. Wanted to believe she was fine.

  But he couldn’t.

  Not with the blood on the bathroom floor.

  So he took a deep breath.

  Pushed open the door.

  A few things hit him in the moment that followed.

  The first thing was the smell. A sweetness. Like flowers in the middle of summer.

  He didn’t think about that smell for long.

  Not when he saw Rosita.

  She was standing in the bathtub. Standing there, just like she was taking a shower. Back to the door.

  Only the shower wasn’t running.

  And the bathtub was filled with blood.

  Right up to her ankles.

  “Rosita, what…”

  Dean saw more blood when he stepped inside. Blood splattered across the shower curtain. Blood splashed against the mirror. Blood on the tiles, blood on the ceiling. An impossible amount of blood.

  And then he saw movement.

  Rosita’s hands were moving. Moving in front of her. Like she was washing. Like she was covering herself in soap.

  “Rosita,” Dean said, barely able to speak through his shaking. He could hear Kayla behind him. Hear her asking what was wrong. What the fuck was going on.