The Line - Part 2 An Original Short Story by K H Simmons

Photo by Adrian Moise on Unsplash

You know when your mind just goes blank? You’re exhausted, because you’re too afraid to sleep. You know you need to do something, but your brain has decided to go into shut down. That’s how I felt. Maybe it was a coping mechanism to deal with what I’d seen in the bedroom. I shuddered and glanced at the door, half expecting it to open and for the remains to come stumbling out like something out of The Walking Dead. Of course it didn’t. I turned my eyes back to the empty rucksack in my hands. It was the big kind, used for camping or trekking, things you used to do for fun, not survival. I swallowed hard. That wasn’t the case yet. It couldn’t be. This wasn’t the end of things. There was still hope. We had to get to the refugee camp, we’d be safe there.

I grabbed some meagre medical supplies from the bathroom, alcohol rub, antisceptic cream, plasters, the kinds of things you kept in the home to deal with the kid’s grazed knee or when you accidently cut yourself peeling potatoes. Not when a sleepwalker has attacked you with a penknife. I salvaged some clean blankets and towels from the airing cupboard before hesitating outside the kids room. The door was shut, I felt like it should remain that way. I didn’t know what was on the other wise and I didn’t want to find out. I hoped that it was the kid’s half-eaten bowl of cereal downstairs and they had run when they heard the noises from upstairs. I stopped that train of thought in its tracks. Imagining the noises was not where I wanted to go. I made my way downstairs where Milly was packing canned food and packets of cereal bars into a bag for life - when they started that campaign, I’m not sure this is what they had in mind.

There were still coats on the hooks by the door, I collected one and pulled it on, grabbing another for Milly. I was just picking up the car keys from the hook when I heard a noise behind me. I swivelled to face the front door that one of us had had the good sense to shut. Someone was jingling keys outside. It could be the kids, coming back to find their parents. I bounded to the door in a single step and pressed my weight against it as I peered through the peephole. The blank white’s of a sleeper stared back at me as they fumbled with their keys outside the door. Her face was streaked with blood, her expression blank as she stood in her bloodied pyjamas trying to remember the right key. I had to suppress the scream that tried to creep up my throat. Without moving my weight away from the door I slowly raised my hand and millimetre by millimetre I slid across the bolt. The handle twitched by my side as the wife pressed down on it. She pushed against it, the bolt held.

The handle was pushed down more forcefully and she thudded a hand against the door as she grew more frustrated that she couldn’t complete whatever task her sleep-addled brain had set her. I took a step back, not taking my eyes off the door as I edged towards the kitchen. I held my breath, not daring to make a noise as the sleeper shoved the door. The bolt rattled, it was more of a formality than a security feature.

I edged into the kitchen and backed into Milly who was trying to reach down some tins of soup. She dropped the one she was holding. It clattered onto the countertop before rolling and dropping onto the floor. The metallic clank of tin on tiles echoed through the house. Almost immediately there was a crash as the sleeper threw themselves against the front door in response to the noise. No longer going about whatever they do when they’re sleepwalking, she was looking for the source of the disturbance. I grabbed Milly by the arm and pulled her towards the back door. Tins of soup forgotten, Milly followed without asking why. My hand reached the door - locked. Panic threatened to overwhelm me as I fumbled with the bunch of keys I’d retrieved from the hall. I glanced over my shoulder to see the sleeper round the corner into the kitchen.

Her teeth gnashed in rage as she spotted us. She had her own keys held tightly in one hand, she was gripping them so tightly they had turned her knuckles white.

‘Hurry!’ Milly shouted as I turned to the keys. Why were there so many keys and a keyring with the words Best Dad embossed in gold leaf onto a leather rectangle. It kept getting in the way as I tried to find the right key. The sleeper wasn’t going to wait for us to escape. I heard her lunge at us and throw a punch by Milly’s cry. I felt her dodge out of the way and shove the sleeper into the sink.

It should be a silver key to match the lock, fairly modern at a guess. I tried one. It didn’t budge. I glanced back as I picked out the next key. The sleeper was righting herself and coming towards Milly. Milly hoisted the bag for life and swung it as hard as she could. The tins within clanged together as they connected with the sleeper’s head, she stumbled back, but was unphased. I slotted the key into the lock. It turned. I flung the door open and ushered Milly out. The sleeper ran at us and I only just managed to click the door shut in time. She slammed into the door with a thud before grabbing for the handle. I didn’t wait to see her open it, I ran around the side of the house after Milly.

Thankfully the car opened at a click of a button. I threw the bag into the backseat as Milly slid into the passenger seat. The sleeper came racing around the corner before I had figured out where the start button was. Milly leaned over a pressed it. Her eyes were wide with fear as the engine roared to life. The sleeper ran to my door and grabbed the handle. I flicked the lock and she tugged the handle in. I stared in horror as the woman tipped her head back and then drove it into the window with so much force I couldn’t believe she was still upright. The glass wobbled and her skin split.

Milly put the car into drive and I snapped out of my stupor. I pressed down the pedal and pulled out of the driveway far faster than was safe. The sleeper was still clinging onto the handle though, she was ripped off her feet as I swung the car around. She tried to get back up as the car turned. Without warning Milly grabbed the steering wheel forcing the car to turn wide. The front end just missed a lamppost, it scraped along the side setting my teeth on edge with the sound of grating metal. I opened my mouth to ask what the hell she was doing when I glanced in the rearview mirror to see the sleeper untangling herself from the lamppost. I nodded my thanks to Milly before I drove away leaving the sleeper running down the street after us, her bloody pyjamas flapping in the breeze.

The road was a new nightmare all of its own. Crashed vehicles, abandoned cars, and sleepers wandering amongst them were just a few of the obstacles on the assault course of the motorway. It seemed the closer we got to Hull the worse it got. When the news struck, people panicked. There had already been rumours, everyone was scared. The hospitals were overflowing and misinformation was everywhere. I supposed it still was. We hadn’t had a chance to hear the truth yet. When they announced the news that you should stay inside unless you were in one of the designated evacuation zones, nobody listened. Everyone wanted out. Everyone either knew someone or somewhere to go or they fled to the evac points in the hope they would let them in. The result was - well the obstacle course of vehicles we were now trying to get through.

The thing was, we expected the way into the city to be clear. Everybody knew that the cities were where this thing, this virus, was the worst. Only there seemed to be just as much traffic trying to get in as out. We had already been crawling along, hoping the tires wouldn’t pop on the debris that covered the roads. On the approach to the bridge we stopped. A lorry that had been carrying lumber was horizontal across the road with the cab almost hanging off the edge where it had collided with the barrier. Its load had come free and was scattered across both sides of the road where it had caused a pile up completely blocking the bridge.

‘Damn it.’ Milly sighed, saying what I was thinking. It wasn’t just the blockage that was the problem. The driver of the truck was sat in the cab with a newspaper unfurled across his lap. His head nodded along as if he was reading. We watched in silence as he attempted to turn a blood soaked page. When it didn’t turn the driver scrunched up the newspaper and smashed it into the dashboard, over and over again until the plastic was cracking and his knuckles were bloodied. When his rage subsided he climbed out of the cab, his white eyes gazed around him before he went to checking his tire pressure.

‘Come on.’ I opened the door as quietly as I could. The truck driver didn’t pay any attention. Milly got out after me. We collected our things from the boot of our borrowed car. I pointed to the right side of the bridge where there seemed to be an easier path through the debris. Milly nodded. We made our way carefully between cars trying not to pay too much attention to what was inside. Blood spattered windshields and crumpled metal did little to help my nerves as we crept through the carnage. Ahead the road was completely blocked by three vehicles that had been hit by the flying lumber. We crossed to the furthest vehicle and I slid across the bonnet to the other side. Milly hugged the bag of food to her chest and slid across after me. She stood up. The bag tore. All the cans clattered to the tarmac. And we just stood there staring at each other in shock. All I could think of what a load of use that bag for life was even though I knew the sleeper had heard and he was running towards us, stumbling over the wreckage to annihilate us. One of the tins must have split the bag when Milly used it as a sledgehammer. I guess they weren’t designed for that sort of thing.

‘Run!’ Milly hissed. Dropping the empty, broken bag and ducking under a piece of wood that was being held up by the crumpled roof of a delivery van. I glanced to my side where I could see the HGV driver running and I turned back to the tins of Heinz baked beans now rolling under the car. We’d miss them. ‘RUN!’ Milly shouted over her shoulder. In front of her a car door opened and a sleeper lunged at her sending her flying across the road so the two of them landed in a heap. I ducked under the lumber and ran towards Milly who was struggling with a tall woman in a skirt who was attempting to strangle her. I stared around me, not really thinking about anything any more other than survival. I grabbed a piece of metal from the road. Milly grunted with the effort of trying to keep the woman’s hands from crushing her throat. I raised the piece of metal and swung it, striking the sleeper across the side of the head. It opened up a horrible gash that under other circumstances might have made me sick. It didn’t stop the sleeper from her attack though and I could hear the truck driver struggling to get over the car behind us.

So I didn’t stop. I grabbed the woman by the head and thrust the metal into her neck. With a crunching squelch she fell still and slumped to the side. Milly shoved the body off her and stood up, gasping for breath. I gaped at the shard of metal in my hands where bits of gore clung to its rugged edges. The clattering of tins as the driver fell over the car behind us shook me from my stupor. Keeping the makeshift weapon in one hand, I grabbed Milly’s wrist with the other and we ran again, weaving in between abandoned vehicles until we reached the toll booths. The driver still stumbled along behind us, but he was slow and losing interest. I tugged on Milly’s sleeve and pressed a finger to my lips. All of the booths were empty apart from one. The green light was showing and a man inside, asleep with his white eyes open was waiting patiently for a car to come through and give him his £1.50. Of course a car was never going to come through though, because two cars had crashed just after the booth blocking access. He didn’t seem to notice though.

Over the thumping of my heart I could hear a light tapping sound. I looked back and saw the driver jogging across the road, it was less purposeful now though, he wandered from side to side as his anger dissipated. There it was, the tapping again. I turned around and saw in the driver’s seat of one of the cars blocking the sleeper’s booth was a woman tapping against the window. Milly spotted her at the same time as I did and hurried over. The woman’s face was pale and as Milly quietly opened the door it became clear why. Where the other car had crashed into her it had forced the steering column down and was pinning her legs.

‘Please, please. You have to help me,’ the woman’s voice warbled between a whisper and a panicked hiss.

I glanced behind us. The driver was still wandering towards us, but he had slowed to a walk. The sleeper in the booth was still patiently waiting to take the toll.

‘They just left me, everybody left me.’ Her voice shook and there were tears in her eyes. Milly took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze.

‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

‘Danielle.’

I crouched down to examine the damage. It was a mess of crumpled metal and broken plastic. There was blood seeping out from somewhere. I wasn’t a paramedic or a firefighter, I had no cutting tools and the most hardcore medication I had in my bag was some off-the-shelf co-codamol. It was so tight and messy in the footwell it was near impossible to see where the car ended and she began. I looked up at Milly. Danielle was wincing in pain. I stood up.

‘Just one moment.’

I beckoned Milly away.

‘It’s not good is it?’ Milly asked. I shook my head. ‘We should go. The sooner we get to the camp, the sooner I can find my kids.’

I opened my mouth to argue and nothing came out. The truck driver was slowly but steadily making his way towards us. The sleeper in the toll booth was stood waiting for something to happen. There were God knows how many others lying in wait in the numerous cars around us. I didn’t know much about medicine, but I knew that if we started trying to get her out she was going to scream. She was going to scream in agony because that’s all you can do and we could tell her to be quiet, we could gag her and give her co-codamol and she was still going to scream. And when she screamed the sleepers would come to stop the noise any way they could. And we would all die screaming.

But we had to try didn’t we? We had to try to save her? That’s what we were meant to do. That’s what humans do. There were unwritten rules of morality that we had to abide by. There was a line that we couldn’t cross because if we did...if we did then we’d be monsters. I looked back at her petrified face, her pleading eyes. Even if she couldn’t hear us she knew the dilemma. She knew the impossible choice we were facing and she was there forcing us to make it. Forcing us to look at that line and wonder whether we could cross it. If we should cross it?

About Me

I'm Katy, but go by K H Simmons officially. I write a lot of sci-fi, dark fantasy and dystopian fiction. If you're here for sparkly vampires, you're in the wrong place ;)

I frequently post short stories on my Facebook page, as well as work on full length novels. If you want more short stories like the above - check out my anthology Death, Demons & Dystopia available on Amazon/Kindle. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07YN5DY98

When I'm not writing, I can usually be found cuddling dogs, reading, at the gym or playing video games.