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

Even if we could get through their masses, we’d have to scale the hastily-erected metal fence hemming in the densest collection of the creatures I’d ever seen.

The van rocked side to side as repeatedly the walking dead crashed and bounced off its paintwork.

69

Stepping back from the edge of the roof, I looked away from the impossible sight, Alex’s hand stopping me from falling over the edge as my shaking legs struggled to hold my weight.

The stench built to a thick soup as it rose from the bodies crowding between the houses. My gaze sunk to the bloodied hands pointed straight in the air, the fingers clawing, scratching at the brick as they clambered for traction to get at our flesh.

I knew any moment I could see her face in the crowd.

Waves of the dead rippled forward in every space, every patch of ground covered with the creatures eager to get to where we stood. I turned back to the van, frantic to seek a possible path through the seething collection. My mind raced to find how I could get to the goal I had no choice but to reach.

In front of us were six houses between us and the van; their back gardens at least. Each had a single storey extension, more or less as deep as the one we stood on, projecting out from each original house. All but one had a flat roof, but it didn’t matter; the gulf between each structure much larger than we could dream of ever reaching without help.

I turned to Alex and our eyes locked.

“What now?” I said and turned away, frustration racing my heart each time I stared out, not able to find a path free of the swarm. Our only choice would be a deadly dash through the scratching, grabbing hands, biting teeth surging for us even now, despite being out of reach.

I looked around the garden to my right, but only with half a heart. It didn’t matter if an aluminium bridge lay on the grass; the teeming crowd of scraping clawed hands and snapping mouths would get us the moment we dropped to the ground to retrieve it.

Despite that, I didn’t find what I needed, only piles of old paint pots along the fence line.

I turned at a strange high sound ripping over the low, background moan. With surprise, I found Alex not standing at my side and panic sprinted up my insides until I saw her kneeling by the edge of the roof as if she were about to climb down to her certain death.

“What the hell? You won’t stand a chance,” I said, rushing towards her. With each step I felt the roof compress under my feet.

About to grab her arm, she lifted and as she did, pulled up a sliver of bitumen felt.

I stood back, regarding her curious smile, letting myself calm as I fixed on trying to figure out why she was pulling the roof apart with us on it.

“What are you doing?”

As I spoke, I moved beside her to get a better view.

She didn’t speak at first, her breath lost in the effort as she stood, the muscles in her arms tightening against her shirt as she heaved, stuttering the felt up and sending nails popping as they gave out their grip.

“We need to get something to bridge the gap. I think there might be tools or a ladder in this house,” she said, flicking a look over her shoulder. “Can’t think of anything else. You?”

I ignored the question and she didn’t linger for my reply, instead she discarded great rips of dark tar-backed felt before leaning over the result of her destruction.

I peered in to look for myself.

Beneath the felt were chipboard panels, their surface swollen with water and peppered with stubborn nails still surrounded by skirts of felt.

“What now?” I said stepping back.

Alex didn’t answer, but the wood beneath her feet did. As did the dust spraying out of the gaping hole she disappeared through.

70

Jumping back to the wall of the main house, I stood wide-eyed with my hands flat against the cold brick. Breath fixed in my throat as I willed for the dust and chaos to settle whilst listening, keen for Alex’s call, letting me know she was still okay.

The dust stopped falling, but the commotion had whipped the surrounding crowd to a frenzy. Still, I hadn’t heard her voice.

Taking a tentative step forward, I didn’t want to join Alex’s side and land on the floor next to her body I imagined spread out ready for the chalk outline.

Sinking to my knees, I crawled, spreading the weight across my limbs in hope, in desperation, to get close.

The surface gave just a little with each of my movements, feeling as if with just a little more pressure I would be by her side.

Creeping slowly forward whilst pausing every other moment, I could hear the racket of creatures crowding, their ragged low moans not falling back.

I shot a glance backward, peering up to the window of the main house, cursing my caution when I saw no shadows behind the glass and sped up my movement toward the edge of the gaping hole.

Split, dark sodden wooden sheets lay under the great hole, each folded, bent or buckled, broken apart and sprinkled with the white dust of plaster. Loose remains fell from the ceiling as I edged closer.

Squinting at the neat lines of thick wooden beams on the roof below me, I followed each line covered with a dark frosting of mould where the chipboard had gone from between.

Laying my front flat to the wood, I edged further forward, urging the pile on the ground to move.

Paintbrushes, rollers and tools lined the walls hanging on metal hooks. A wooden bench ran along the closest wall, its surface