In The End Box Set | Books 1-3 Stevens, GJ (story books to read TXT) 📖

faces, wide-eyed at the ear-piercing shriek that told us we couldn’t outrun what chased. We knew our only chance was to find sanctuary, but that meant racing toward the noise.

We ran, gazes fixed on the first house. A middle-aged man stood at the door with a woman of a similar age at his back. Both wore dark Christmas jumpers with festive patterns inappropriate for the peril.

As we ran, they saw us, but took little notice, looking back towards the jogger’s screams which were now so high, looking to each other, neither sure what to make of the situation.

Their glances hung as the feral shriek lit the air again. Their faces turned wide. Mouths hung open, fixed as we ran, not waiting to see, but already knowing one jogger would be flat on her face with something resembling a human dog tucking into her flesh.

Neither of us were wrong as we caught a glance just before we pushed past the couple and ran into their house.

43

“Close the door,” I heard Toni’s sharp command and watched the guy’s eyes follow as she led the charge with his face indignant to the invasion.

“Mary, ring the police,” came the man’s voice, his gaze snapping to mine as I followed behind.

“Shut the door,” I said through heavy breath, trying my best to keep my voice level. “Is your phone working?” I quickly added.

“Close the door,” the woman begged as I passed, her hands grabbing the man’s upper arm as she sunk at the knees.

A chorus of screams lit the air outside and I ran past Toni as she stopped in the hallway, peering back and letting her breath settle. I stopped only when I came to the kitchen and ran out of space.

“Close the door,” Toni repeated, her voice even sharper than before.

The screams dulled as the door slammed shut and the locks clicked into place. I turned to the back door and the empty mortice lock, noise flashing high as I pulled it open, slamming out the blast of cold air blowing off the rolling fields beyond the garden fence.

“Where’s the key?” I shouted, my voice racing away.

Toni arrived first, joining my search of the room before heading back through to the hallway.

“Toni,” I snapped, and she turned, looking to my hands gesturing to her waistband at her back. She untucked her t-shirt to cover the gun.

I continued to search the kitchen, pulling open drawers, rooting around for the key while listening to the man’s bluster in the hallway.

“It’s not working,” I heard him say.

“Mobile?” came Toni’s reply.

“Not out here,” he said, his voice growing in volume.

The woman, Mary, marched from the hallway, projecting her hand out whilst the other clamped firm to the side of her pale, white face.

I took the key and turned it in the lock, testing the handle twice before I moved away.

“What was that?” she said with a tremble in her voice as I drew at her side. Her eyes held wide, dropping while her head twisted and eyebrows fell. “Are you from the telly?” she said, taking a step back.

I gave a shallow nod, no time for the usual smile everyone expected to be in my company.

“What is that thing?” she said, her voice trembling.

Toni arrived at her back just in time. The man followed. Both the couples’ pale white expressions were ridiculous in their Christmas finery.

I didn’t reply; instead looked to Toni for answers.

The man asked the same unanswered question, but before he finished, Toni walked back into the hall. I followed her into the living room.

A great tree blocked the view through the front window, the light on to compensate. I caught sight of the TV news. My colleague of two years addressed the camera, dressed casual and wrapped in a warm woollen coat with his back to frost-covered parked cars. The millennium wheel loomed in the background as he presented the annual stock piece, giving out advice for the night’s celebrations. Not once in those few moments did a body cross the screen with his hands raised and a fractured jaw hanging wide.

The picture soon swapped to a roadblock across the entry ramp to a motorway. A double line of cones and red signs blocked the path as a pair of stern-looking police officers surveyed the view from behind the line, looking everywhere but at the camera.

My heart raced even further as I blotted out the hurried voice of the man at my side, the conversation he was having with Toni or his wife. I peered forward, concentrating on the words of the reporter I couldn’t recognise from the voice, or their business-like face as the camera panned to take in their view. He talked about the worst outbreak of foot and mouth disease. He talked about the strictest prohibitions enforced in decades.

The story was still mine. For now. A double-edged sword. For the one who broke the news, their career would go into orbit, but any more delay and it could be too late to save anyone.

Toni shot past me as I watched. The husband made noises of complaint and followed her up the stairs, his tone changing halfway as he stopped.

“What’s that?” he said, the words tailing off. “Mary, no don’t,” he said to stop her following. “Lock yourself in the downstairs toilet.”

“What?” was her only reply.

Both moved swiftly out of my way as I bounded up the stairs to catch up with Toni in what appeared to be the master bedroom. My gaze soon turned away from the chintz velvet wallpaper, dark gaudy flowers on a light background, then from the black silk sheets, my corner-mouth smile dropping as I stared into the distance and the dish on top of the van right where I’d left it.

Toni swept the net curtains aside as I joined