Shaun Harbinger: Storm

The gasoline smell coming from the engine masked the stench of rotting flesh hanging in the night air.

Tanya, Jax, and Sam were quiet. I guessed they were all wondering what lay ahead and how they were going to complete their mission. In their minds, they had probably already taken over the radio station, got their message out, and were back in the Lucky Escape sipping champagne.

I had no such illusions. My three companions might be winners in life but I was used to failure mixed with a good dose of disappointment. I was pretty sure I would never see the Lucky Escape again. Or Lucy. My heart broke at the thought of not seeing Lucy again. What had started out as a massive crush based only on her looks had developed into something much more. I didn’t think I could bear surviving the apocalypse without her.

Tanya turned to us and whispered, “We’ve reached the city.”

The trees and fields gave way to houses with lawns that stretched down to the river. Beyond the houses, the glow of street lights illuminated hundreds of zombies wandering aimlessly like lost souls.

As we traveled farther upriver, the houses gave way to industrial units and factories then shops and businesses as the river wound into the heart of Truro. The banks of the river became walls of cement and stone with a safety rail that separated the river from a small walking path. The path was heaving with nasties. They glared at us as we passed them.

They were everywhere, clogging up the city with rotting flesh and hungry moans. In the distance we heard a gunshot and I wondered if the army was actually fighting this massive horde of the undead or if there were survivors in the city. Maybe someone had simply had enough and taken their own life. Goodbye, cruel apocalypse.

“We’re not going to be able to get off the boat,” I said.

Sam said, “We don’t need to, man.”

I threw him a confused look but the pale overhead lights on the path barely reached our boat so I wasn’t sure Sam saw my face in the darkness. I added, “What do you mean?”

“The building we’re heading for was BBC Radio Cornwall before the army took it over for Survivor Radio. I came here with Vigo Johnson last year to do an interview about a TV show we had filmed in the Sahara. While we were waiting to go on air, one of the producers was shooting the shit with us and he took us out to the back of the building to get some fresh air. There’s a covered walkway out there with a waist-high wall. The other side of that wall drops straight down into the river. All we have to do is climb out of the boat and over the wall. It’s simple, man.”

It sounded simple but he was forgetting the fact that the building was probably heavily guarded by the military or could be overrun with zombies or hybrids. This was not going to be simple. Rather than give me hope, Sam’s optimism pissed me off.

I sat brooding in the boat until we got to the radio station. I felt a mixture of fear, depression, and anger, which made for a bad combination. I didn’t even know who I was angry at, only that I felt like smashing heads with my baseball bat to relieve the pressure building up inside me.

“We’re here,” Tanya whispered.

The river forked into two. On the left, it ran to a small marina with a large store and a zombie-filled parking lot. On the right, a group of white-painted buildings skirted the water. Both forks ran beneath a wide bridge, along which ran a main road judging by the amount of abandoned cars up there.

The final building on this side of the bridge had black letters on its wall that read, “BBC Radio Cornwall”. A porch roof supported by brown-painted wooden struts ran almost the entire length of the building, covering a narrow walkway, which was hidden from us by a low white wall that dropped down to the water.

There was no sign of life. Or zombies.

“It’s too quiet,” I whispered.

“Would you prefer soldiers? Or zombies, maybe?” Sam asked. He laughed. “Jesus, Alex, you’re too highly-strung, man. Relax.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” I protested. “If the army is running their radio broadcast from here, why aren’t they guarding it?”

Jax leaned forward and said, “Why would they guard it from the river side? Zombies don’t swim.”

And nobody else would be crazy enough to do what we were doing.

Jax steered us in towards the wall and Tanya stood up with the Zodiac’s mooring rope in her hand. She reached up, grabbed the top of the wall and pulled herself up and over in a swift, graceful movement, crowbar in one hand. She checked the area and tied the boat to one of the porch struts. “It’s clear,” she whispered down to us.

Sam went next, heaving his bulky frame over the wall. “Pass the weapons up,” he whispered to us.

Jax passed our bats and his tire iron up to him then looked at me. “You want to go next?”

“You go ahead. I’ll follow.” My refusal was nothing to do with chivalry; I wasn’t sure I could make it over the wall. It wasn’t all that high but for someone as unfit as I was, it was high enough to give me serious doubts that I could pull my bulk over the top. I almost suggested that I stay with the Zodiac but if I did that, I would never be able to get my message to Lucy.

Jax jumped up and pulled herself over quickly.

I stood up in the Zodiac, leaning against the rough, white stone to steady myself. I slid my hands up to the edge of the wall and curled my fingers over the top. I wouldn’t be able to do this. I was too heavy.

Tanya, Jax, and Sam grabbed my forearms and pulled me up. I used the toes of my boots against the wall to assist them but it wasn’t necessary; they had me over the top in seconds.

I stood in the narrow cement walkway between the wall and the building. Both ends of the walkway were closed off with tall, locked, iron gates. Another reason the army didn’t have to worry too much about people climbing in this way.

“Thanks,” I whispered to my companions.

“Don’t mention it, man,” Sam replied. They had pulled me up because they knew I couldn’t climb over by myself. I felt both grateful and embarrassed. I picked up my bat and hoped I could prove myself in the fighting ahead. I was tired of being the weakest member in every group.

Sam went to the nearest window and looked inside. “We’re going in this way,” he whispered. “The studio is upstairs so we need to get up there as quickly as possible.” He jabbed his tire iron at the corner of the window. The glass shattered.

I had thought we were going to use stealth but Sam’s approach was fast and hard. He reached in and opened the window before disappearing through it into the dark room beyond.

“Go, Alex,” Tanya said, pushing me forward. She was making sure I didn’t lag behind by making me go in front of her. Luckily the window was large. I struggled through and found myself inside a carpeted room with vinyl chairs and a sofa. Framed Radio Cornwall posters hung on the walls.

Sam opened the door and light spilled in from a lighted corridor. The girls pushed past me and ran out of the room with Sam. I followed, scared to be left alone. I didn’t want to be killed or captured and someone must have heard that window breaking.

The corridor was brightly lit with strip lights, the floor covered in blue and grey vinyl floor tiles. Pictures of the Radio Cornwall DJs lined the walls.

At the far end of the corridor I could see an empty reception area and a steel and glass door that led to the parking lot. Two soldiers stood outside the door, looking out into the night. Their rifles were slung over their shoulders and they looked relaxed. If they had heard the window breaking, they didn’t seem too bothered by it.

“Alex, this way,” Sam whispered, holding a door open for me across the corridor and gesturing for me to follow him. I went through quickly and we ascended a wide set of stairs to the next floor.