Chapter 5: Ghosts of the Past

As Nathan sleeps the night before his journey to gather supplies with from the hospital with Richard and Dr Sharpe, he is haunted by a dream of the loss that destroyed him.

Nathan staggered back to his room. Richard calling him Nate had thrown him. It had brought back all kinds of memories he had been trying to suppress. It wasn't Richard's fault; Nathan hadn't told anybody about Anna except Michelle, so nobody knew the name had significance. The name 'Nate' was to Nathan as the photo of the young boy in Richard's hatband was to Richard, he supposed.

He slumped down into his couch and closed his eyes. He had until tomorrow morning to sleep as much as he could. He began to doze almost instantly, and he was treated to the dream he had experienced so many times in the past year:

 

The cool night air washed over the couple as they left the movie theater. The woman immediately shivered, and without hesitation the man whipped off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. She laughed then, a beautiful, musical sound that seemed to dance around the ear before softly stealing inside and warming the heart.

"Whoever said chivalry was dead?" she asked with a grin, pulling the jacket tighter around her.

The man looked at her, charmed as always by her honest, genuine smile.

Their eyes met, and Nate was reminded of the day he had met her, five years ago tonight.

It wasn't a particularly interesting story; he had met her at the public library. Nate had been looking for a certain book - a collection of poems he had enjoyed when he was younger and was hoping to reread out of nostalgia. He had finally spied the library's only copy in the hands of a woman his own age, sitting by a window with a starbucks coffee and reading quietly. She was certainly pretty, but not in the stereotypical barbie-doll way. Nobody would have considered her 'sexy', but Nate saw an uncommon beauty in her. Maybe it was the way the mid-afternoon sun streaming through the window illuminated the sheaf of golden hair cascading down her back, or maybe it was her elegant, albeit somewhat plain face. But Nate decided that what intoxicated him so was probably simply the peaceful, almost angelic serenity that seemed to consume her as she read. Somebody who could slip between the pages of a book and appreciate poetry as fully and contently as she was doing was somebody Nate wanted to know.

His search for the book forgotten, Nate had approached her and started a conversation. Almost unheard of for a man who was usually very shy and awkward around the fairer sex. They had hit it off straight away, and before he knew it Nate had asked her on a date the following Friday.

Five years had passed since then, and they had grown closer every day. They just clicked. Love came so easily to them that Nate couldn't quite believe it. Their relationship was the envy of their friends.

And tonight, the fifth anniversary of that library meeting, Nate had taken her out to dinner and a movie. The evening had got well, and Nate was as happy as he could ever remember being.

They neared Nate's car. He moved forward to hold open the door for her, then stopped. He saw the park across the road, with its tree-lined paths and duck pond sparkling in the moonlight. A glance at his watch told him the time was nine-thirty. He turned back to Anna, who was tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looking at him inquisitively.

"You know, it's not that late. How about a walk in the park?"

She raised one eyebrow.

"Don't be silly, we'd get mugged!"

"Come on, it's a safe neighbourhood. And besides, I'll protect you," he assured her, putting his arm around her.

She laughed again and squeezed his hand.

"Come on, then."

As they entered the park, they passed a homeless man who stood slack-jawed and hunched by the gate. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was emitting a low moan.

"Hey buddy, are you alright?" Nate asked him.

The man turned his head to look at them. His nostrils were flared and his skin was sickly-grey. He drew in a rattling breath and began to mumble strangely in a hoarse, unearthly manner. Nate began to feel uneasy, and he saw a nervous look on Anna's face. He hastily dug a handful of coins out of his pocket and held them out.

Suddenly and without warning, the man lurched forward and grabbed Nate's wrist. Nate's fingers opened with surprise and the coins fell onto the grass. Even in his panic he noticed that the sleeve of the stranger's tattered trenchcoat was drenched with some dark fluid.

Anna gave a small cry and Nate jerked back, pulling his arm free. He hurried Anna away, into the park. Nate half expected the homeless man to give chase, but he remained where he stood.

"Are you alright?" Anna said with real concern.

"I'm fine. Damn junkie. C'mon, let's go."

They started on down the path, past benches caked in bird-droppings and grafitti, discarded pizza boxes and broken bottles. Nate had to admit that it wasn't as romantic as he had expected. It was also much darker than he had anticipated, as the trees blocked the light from nearby buildings. Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed.

He cleared his throat.

"So, what did you think of the movie?"

She wrinkled her nose.

"Too much violence."

"It wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I suppose not. But next time, I choose what we see."

"Sure thing. But there's nothing wrong with a bit of excitement every now and then, is there?"

There were more sirens now. They sounded closer. A loud bang came from somewhere to their left, followed by a short scream.

"Was that a gunshot?!" Anna asked, wide-eyed.

"No, of course not," Nate said, pulling her closer. "Car backfiring, that's all."

He could tell Anna didn't believe that for a second. This was no surprise to Nate, as he didn't believe it either.

"I want to go home, Nate."

He couldn't argue any different, something strange was happening tonight. He could feel it in the air.

"Okay, come on. Let's head back."

They turned around, and were immediately confronted by a strange sight. Further up the path, where they had been walking twenty seconds earlier was a teenage boy no older than nineteen. He wore a hoodie, obscuring his face and he was crouching over a dark shape on the ground.

"Oh my God, Nate! That's a body!" Anna whispered to him.

"Don't be ridic..." Nate began, but then an arm shot up from the thing on the ground and clasped its fingers around the youth's neck. Nate started forwards with alarm, and the young man gave a peculiar cry of surprise or pain. It sounded eerily similar to the homeless man by the gate.

The hooded man stood up, dragging the other man to his feet with him. They both turned to face Nate, and he felt his blood run cold.

Both of the men were in their late teens or early twenties. A few years younger than Nate and Anna. What scared Nate was the fact that they were both covered in blood. It stained their clothes and even dripped from their mouths. Both wore vacant, hungry expressions. Anna screamed, but Nate's fear was too great for that.

The two gory men began to run towards them with a slow, limping gait. They were both moaning and reaching out with hooked, clawlike fingers. Nate's brain screamed at him to run, to get himself and Anna to safety, but his legs refused to comply. Anna seemed to have the same problem.

The demonic attackers drew closer and closer. Nate could almost feel their hot, moist breath when two gunshots rang out, one after the other.

BANG

BANG

Both assailants slumped over forward, revealing quarter-sized holes in the backs of their heads. Neither of them put their hands out in front of them to break their fall, they simply hit the gravel path face-first. One sprayed a small amount of blood onto Nate's shoes. He was too dumbstruck to do anything but gape, open mouthed.

A dark figure stood in the shadows some way off. As Nate watched, it stepped forward and resolved into a police officer, holding a pistol out in front of him in a two-handed combat grip.

"Are you two okay?" The officer called out over the growing sound of sirens. Anna's face had gone as white as a sheet.

Neither of them could bring themselves to say anything. Nate's brain was still desperately trying to comprehend what was happening. It all felt like a dream. The officer gave a cry of frustration and raised the gun.

"Wait! No, we're okay! We're not like them!" Anna yelled.

The officer sighed with relief and jogged over to them, lowering the weapon. Nate noticed that he was bleeding from a gash in his neck.

Anna appeared to notice the same thing. "You're hurt!"

"Yeah, one of the crazy fuckers bit me. Can you believe that? Bit me. Something's going on, everybody's been drugged or hypnotised or something. You two need to get back home right now. Lock your doors and windows, don't let anybody in if they're acting like... well, those two were."

He gestured at the two corpses, lying in slowly expanding twin pools of scarlet.

"Wait, what?" Nate said, finally finding his voice.

"There's no time to explain. People are dying, I've gotta go and help out. Get home now and don't come out until an all-clear is given. The city's under attack."

"Attack? What, you mean like terrorists? This some kind of nine-eleven s**t?"
"Do these guys look like terrorists to you? I'm telling you for the last time. Get. Home. Now. Be careful around the roads, too. Cars are crashing like crazy."

As if to prove his point, the unmistakable sound of an explosion roared in the distance. Car horns blared and the sound of screaming doubled.

"F**k!" the officer exclaimed, and sprinted off in the direction of the blast. He seemed to remember something and stopped.

"Here, take this!" he called, and pulled a second pistol out of an ankle-holster. He tossed it underarm to Nate, who barely summoned the presence of mind to catch it clumsily. 

"If any of them come near you, shoot them, you hear me? These m***********s are dangerous. Aim for the head, it's the only way to stop them."

The officer seemed to be waiting for an answer, but Nate said nothing.

"F**k," he said again, and ran off into the night.

For a moment, Nate and Anna just stood there, shocked. He could feel adrenaline coursing through his veins, and Anna's hand was shaking in his.

Then the confusion and bewilderment, the disorganised mess of stray thoughts and questions chasing eachother around his mind were instantly blown away by some kind of mental breeze. Every rational thought was replaced by a simple, animal instinct.

They were in serious danger. They had to run.

"Come on," he said, breaking the stunned silence. He ran, then, pulling Anna with him. She had trouble keeping up due to her high-heels, but slowing down was not an option.

The sirens were closer now, and gunshots were becoming more frequent. Nate thought he could smell smoke. It was incredibly dark now. He couldn't see more than six feet in front of him. He jumped violently every time a shadow moved in his peripheral vision, but he never stopped running.

"Nate! Nate!" Anna called. He skidded to a halt, almost losing his balance.

"I've got to take off these damn shoes. Give me a second."

Nate nodded, and waited impatiently. As Anna fumbled with the shoes, he anxiously kept an eye out for any sign of trouble. He held the .38 revolver in an imitation of what he had seen the police officer do, but he had never even touched a gun before in his life and it felt strange and foreign in his hands.

Gravel crunched behind Nate, and he wheeled around to see the homeless man from earlier standing not ten feet away. His eyes were misted over, and his mouth hung open in a dumb grin.

Nate had just enough time to think 'How the hell did he manage to sneak up on us?' before the lunatic gave an unearthly shriek and lurched toward him, arms outstretched.

Another gunshot pierced the night, this time from Nate's hand. He couldn't recall consciously aiming or pulling the trigger, it was pure instinct. The muzzle flashed, briefly illuminating the entire area.

The bullet struck the man in the chest, and he collapsed into a heap on the ground uncomplainingly. Anna gave another scream, but this time it was quieter. She had never been particularly hysterical or squeamish, but if anyone had ever had a good excuse to scream, it was definitely now. Nate himself wanted to fling the gun away, drop to his knees, tear at his hair and bellow. To demand that someone explain what the f**k was going on.

"Nate?" Anna asked, holding her shoes up in one hand to indicate she was ready to move. Nate grabbed her hand and broke out into a jog, still headed for the gate they had come in through. Headed for Nate's car. The officer's warning about car crashes and dangerous roads still replayed over and over in Nate's mind, but he had not planned that far ahead yet.

There was a sudden jerk on Nate's arm, accompanied by one more scream from Anna. Nate turned, and in the darkness took several seconds to realise what had happened.

The homeless man Nate had just shot through the heart had grabbed Anna's calf and sunk his teeth into her ankle. Nate heard a bone snap between the monster's jaws.

"Aim for the head, it's the only way to stop them", echoed the officer's voice in Nate's head.

He gave a scream of his own, now. A dismayed, half-formed 'NO!'. Anna fell to the dirt, and the foul creature wasted no time in climbing on top of her and pinning her to the ground. Nate hooked one arm around its (for it was no longer a 'he', but surely an 'it') chest and tried desperately to heave it off, even as Anna writhed and screamed underneath it. But it had superhuman strength, and no amount of wrestling on Nate's or Anna's part could make a difference. Anna's foot stuck out at a clearly broken angle, bleeding profusely out of a misshapen row of tooth-marks.

Nate's ears were filled with the sounds of screams. His own, Anna's, and the hideous shrieks it made. Then its wailing stopped, and Anna's redoubled. It had bitten into the flesh of Anna's shoulder, piercing the jacket Nate had put around her a lifetime ago and bringing forth a jet of crimson. With a final, savage cry Nate brought the pistol butt down hard on the back of its head, then jammed the barrel into its eye and pulled the trigger once, twice, three times, four, until it clicked empty. Strings of gore and skin flew away from its head until it was practically decapitated.

The revolver fell from Nate's hand and clattered on the gravel as he cradled the wounded Anna into his arms. It was obvious that she was dying.

Tears fell from his face onto hers as he watched the life fade from her eyes. Her beautiful mouth tried to form words, but the racking sobs consuming Nate prevented him from hearing anything she might have said, crucial as he knew it was that he listen to her final words.

He would never know how long he knelt, weeping over her body, drenched in the blood of his first kill. Distant gunshots, sirens, screams and yells were now constant. Two more explosions somewhere in the city had filled the night sky with greasy smoke that blotted out the stars. On three seperate occasions, a helicopter flew overhead.

Anna stirred, and Nate's heart lept. However as soon as her eyes opened, he knew something was wrong. They were misted over, and there was none of the twinkle, none of the magic they had previously held. They were not the eyes he had fallen in love with. They were the eyes of an animal. A monster. She opened her mouth and let out a primal wail that confirmed Nate's worst fear; she was one of them.

Nate turned his face up to the sky and let out an aching cry, oblivious to the world collapsing around him. He stood shakily, picking up the empty revolver.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to her as she woke. He turned away, then, and ran.

 

Oh, how he ran.