Lee Kerr - Welcome to the Apocalypse

Scott must feel me stretching away, because he starts to pull me back. I feel my body moving, as I realise he is trying to rotate us so that he is closest to the door. I turn to look at him. ‘I need to see what is happening,’ I say, not having the energy to explain why.

He immediately shakes his head but I move quicker than he anticipated. ‘Just keep a hold of me,’ I say, leaning out of the door. The lingering smell hits me first; it’s as though it was just waiting to catch me off-guard. I look along the station and see that the bodies of the fallen stretch all the way along the cold, stone tiles – the corpses of the mutilated take up a lot less space than the living bodies of the humans who were once here. I make myself look to the end of the platform and I see others doing the same, the brave few who are willing to stick their heads out and get a proper glimpse of this very real hell. I look at the formations of corpses, the pile of bodies at the end of the platform. The victims must all have run the same way, all clambering over each other to get out. I see nothing but red flesh and faces painted with the horror of a gruesome end.

‘What can you see?’ someone shouts from somewhere behind me.

‘Why aren’t we moving?’ says another.

I’m about to turn around, to try to explain what I can see and describe horrors I never imagined when something pulls at my leg. I scream, pushing myself into Scott as his grip tightens and he pulls me backwards. My panic seems to spread throughout the carriage and others do the same; our primal instinct to share our fear with others seems to take over.

I look down at my feet and see a bloodied hand is trying to take hold of me. I follow the trail of the arm until I see the mutilated face of a survivor, his skin covered in blood, his hair matted with sweat. His back has been sliced open and blood still flows from it, telling me all of this happened very recently. I can only shake my head, as though I am apologising for all that has happened down here.

I think about reaching out to him, trying to help, but Scott pulls me further back before I can do anything. ‘You can’t help him now,’ he says, seeming to know what I was thinking.

I take one final look at this man as I wait for the life to drain from him. It won’t take long now and I’m hopeful the train will start moving again, ending my need to share his last few agonising breaths. I curse myself for somehow becoming this evil, this uncaring, this utterly selfish, but I’m at a loss to know what I can do for someone who barely resembles a human being, and who will pass over before the help that no longer exists could ever reach him.

I look ahead, back to the front of the train, starting to wonder why we’re still here. And that’s when I see it – the reason for all of this horror. It’s only a flash, a flicker in the corner of my eye, but it leaps into the front carriage, clearing its own space, throwing bodies out of the way using its long claws. Those who cry out as they fly through the air look dead even before their bones crack against the far wall.

I try to pull myself in; the fear that swells through me more intense than I ever thought possible. Just as I retreat inside I see another flash in the corner of my vision; something is tearing a path into the carriage at the rear of the train, much closer to us.

Screams are echoing from every angle now. Scott looks into my vacant eyes and demands to know what horrors I have just witnessed. People try to move, some even jump off the train and onto the bloodied mass of corpses. They slide on the fluids spilled by their fellow man, slipping onto the floor as they scramble to get up and to get out.

I think about doing the same; my eyes carving out a path across the floor, thinking of jumping across the few spaces of clean concrete, as though they were stepping stones to freedom. I’m about to pull Scott with me but he doesn’t move. I turn to see that he has become trapped between the masses of people who are struggling and moving in all directions. I try to keep a hold of him, thinking about who is in my way and who I can use as a shield, but as they push we are suddenly pulled apart. I fight against these people, my new enemies, thinking only of survival for Scott and me. I know that have to get to him; I have to get us out.

The lights start to flicker on and off and an announcement comes from the driver. ‘Hold on, we’re about to move,’ he shouts. Any fear he once had seems to have been replaced by determination to get his remaining passengers to safety. I start to like him, to have faith in his ability, until I remember what has boarded our safe haven.

I keep shouting Scott’s name and find that I suddenly have space to move, thanks to the few people who have already fled. I want to do the same, to get out of here and back to the surface. If the tube train moves then I hope it will take this evil with it, giving those who are willing to run a fighting chance of getting away. Find Scott and keep moving, I think. It is my only possible future now. I keep telling myself that we will get out and make it to the countryside. I picture my parent’s faces when they see that I have not only come home, but also finally brought a man back with me, and how proud I will make them both.

The tube moves forward, then jolts to a halt again. The driver starts to speak but whatever reassurance he once offered is now replaced by his own screams; our one hope of escape has now been obviously been butchered before he ever got to save any of us.

I look around, desperately trying to find Scott in the midst of the moving bodies and frantic shouting. I shout his name, my anger at losing him seeming to drown out my fear.

The angle of those left seems to suddenly change as something new makes its way into our carriage. I hear the slamming of a door and the screams of the people who can see what has been waiting for us down here.

I look ahead and see jets of blood travelling over the heads of those about to meet their maker. I look through the window, seeing that the passengers who have jumped off have not fared any better; blood splatters across the train, making it look like a crimson canvas; the guts of those who had thought they were the lucky ones are now on show for all to see.

The number of people remaining in the carriage is quickly dropping; we have become one long line of victims. A few look like they are putting up a fight, but most simply fall back like they have already lost a battle they never saw coming. They collapse into the seats, slowly retreating towards those who are bundled around me, cries for mercy and screams of pain all muddle together. My own doom is now only a few feet away.

The lights go out, plunging us into near-blackness as the shadows of those around me claw for survival. Something suddenly takes hold of me and arms wrap around my waist. I don’t scream or try to flee, but I soon feel the welcome touch of the man I have always longed for. I feel his breath on my neck; his embrace is warm and he gives off a faint, primal smell of sweat mixed with his aftershave. It’s some new world scent – such obvious effort to prepare for this moment, our moment, this short space of time we have together.

He turns me around, wrapping me tight in his arms, then slowly steps backwards, taking me away from this place. The endless screams around us seem to fade away and we become a silent movie – black and white, except for his blue eyes which shine like an ocean of calm, despite the chaos we are in. We reach the end of the carriage and he presses his back against wall. I try to turn, to see the evil that approaches, but he doesn’t let me. He faces our fear while making me bury myself into his chest. I feel his heartbeat, thumping a million times its normal speed. I’m not sure if it’s only my body that is shaking, or if it’s both of us, but it doesn’t matter now.