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

distance of the destroyed hedge, the space between our steps getting less and less as we moved around large shards of misshapen metal and smouldering debris once part of the Land Rover.

The space where the Land Rover had been was empty, a crater of steaming tarmac in its place. Beside the wide hole we saw the underside of what had been our transport, the Defender flipped on its side and pushed deep into the hedge. It wasn't going anywhere soon.

Our steps were slow, with McCole taking the lead, covering left with the pistol outstretched.

I followed at his back, almost touching him, my eye against the sight and body turned to the right. I could hear Cassie just behind us, covering the rear.

The ground was uneven as we crossed onto what had been the road, with heat rising as debris crushed under my feet.

“Clear left,” were McCole's words; there was nothing in my scope.

“Clear right,” I said, but a great animalistic scream obscured the words.

Instinct alone lowered the gun and pulled the trigger as I screamed at the blackened, skinless face shrieking towards me.

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The hand on my shoulder slowed the barrage of fire, calming my finger on the trigger despite the creature still trying to claw its way up from the floor.

Cassie had seen what I hadn't; she’d seen it would never succeed. She’d seen there was nothing connected below its hips to stand on, its legs blown clean off in the explosion.

“All clear,” came Cassie's words, strong and decisive as I pulled in a long breath.

McCole nodded as he peered around my shoulder, pointing his pistol down the road covered with metal and black stony debris.

We walked, my legs jelly on the uneven ground, but we could do nothing but fix forward and watch the bend as it turned so slowly with each footstep. All hopes were on what we'd find, praying to a god I didn't believe in that infected souls wouldn't be gathering around our treasured vehicle.

Several times over, McCole held his gun to the sky and we'd stop to listen, but only hearing his ever-labouring breath, we'd move on, step after step, getting ever closer to the most dangerous part of the journey.

We soon came to the apex of the corner, our view so short, our odds even shorter.

We saw nothing new as we stepped through each degree of the corner. The body of the driver flung across the road was missing, as was the creature which had dragged him from the smoke. Only his upturned helmet remained to mark the spot.

The Land Rover emerging from the hedge-line told us we hadn't made it all up. Relief grew as we saw it all in one piece.

Our pace increased, but soon slowed as McCole's didn't pick up, his pale right hand hanging by his side. We had to get him off his feet.

On the road beyond the Land Rover, the body of the first soldier to die was missing too, but the creature who'd ripped him from the truck was not. It lay, half flattened, its flesh ground into the tarmac by the great tyres as the driver had tried in vain to escape.

The engine still idled as we grew near and I couldn't hold back my speed as I jogged around, holding the rifle at my hip, not looking to McCole to see if he agreed.

All was clear around the vehicle; along the road too. Slinging the rifle over my shoulder and crunching cubes of glass under my shoes, I pulled open the Land Rover door, sending the stench of burning rubber into the air. The Defender pulled from the hedge with ease and I jumped out, leaving it lined up straight on the road after dumping my rucksack and rifle on the passenger seat.

Around the rear, I pulled open the door, with no complaint from the metal. The hardy beast barely had a scrape or dent from its ordeal.

McCole's laboured walk ended as he batted away our attempts to help him into the back. Cassie joined him for fear of his imminent collapse.

Back in the driver's seat, I willed away a sudden flush of safety and tried to ignore the feeling that for once everything was going right. We had the upper hand, but I knew it would only lead to the next calamity; the next catastrophe to change someone's life forever. With so little left to lose, I could guess who it would be but I wasn't willing to let it happen.

I shook away the few seconds of thought, having learned my lesson, and I peered down at the dashboard. The fuel gauge showed the tank nearly full, the engine temperature in the centre where it should be. There were no red lights or amber warning signs telling me the engine would cut out right at the least opportune moment.

Still, I was ready for the worst to happen and I pushed down the clutch, selected first gear and stalled the engine as I tried to pull away.

This was it. This was the time. I looked to the hedge, then to the road ahead, turned a full half-circle to my left and repeated to my right, looking to see what would be coming as we sat with the engine dead.

Nothing came. Nothing was coming. I dipped the clutch and turned the key. The engine started. With a deep breath and a heavy right foot, we rolled forward, letting the speed needle climb.

McCole coughed in the back while Cassie peered out of the windscreen; we made good time repeating the earlier journey. The only difference was the direction and the clouding sky as it darkened.

We arrived at the outskirts of the hamlet soon enough and saw the pickup truck still in the middle of the road with its front tyre deflated. The only differences were the missing