“We’re definitely going to end up in the newspapers.”
“Let’s just hope it’s not the obituaries.”
Brett stood by the front door, peering out of the broken window. After a few moments, he turned around. “Sean’s headed off toward the stream. We have to come up with a plan before he comes back.”
“We should just make a run for it,” said Aaron. “He won’t catch us.”
Brett held up his swollen ankle. “Speak for yourself.”
Aaron groaned. “Oh yeah.”
Ryan glanced at his watch. “It’s going to start getting dark in an hour or two. If we’re going to make a run for it, it would have to be soon. Maybe one of us can go.”
“Tom already tried that,” said Brett.
“He’s dead,” said Aaron. “We all know it. The wildlife is infected.”
“So are we,” muttered Loobey.
“We don’t know that,” said Brett. He pointed a finger to enforce his point. “Don’t make assumptions.”
Loobey’s eyes went wide, and for a moment it seemed like an overreaction. Then he leaned back against the sofa as if trying to put more space between him and Brett. “Your arm, man! Your arm is green.”
Brett was still pointing his finger in the air, but slowly he lowered his eyes to his wrist. Ryan was too far away to see, so he took a step closer. Sure enough, the bottom of Brett’s arm had a green circle around it. Several of his fingers were stained as well.
Loobey buried his face in his hands. “Sean was right. It’s too late. We’re infected.”
Aaron lifted his shirt and started checking himself frantically. “I don’t see anything on me. Ryan, check my back.”
Ryan examined his brother. “You’re fine. There’s nothing on you. What about me?”
Aaron checked him. “I think you’re all right. I don’t see anything.”
Brett’s finger was still piercing the air, but his hand had started to shake. “It’s just me,” he said, his voice flat and emotionless. “Last night, Sean grabbed my wrist. He grabbed it and held it. I’ve been infected this entire time.” Slowly, he lifted his shirt. Everyone gasped. Green fuzz had grown in half a dozen places. He prodded at it with his fingers. “My skin is numb. That’s why I never felt it growing.”
Loobey swallowed, the sound loud enough that they all glanced his way. “He grabbed me, too, when he attacked me in the bedroom.”
“You were fully clothed,” said Ryan. “Did he touch your bare skin anywhere?”
“I… I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Loobey rubbed himself over, prodded at himself, lifted his shirt. “I don’t see anything on me. I don’t see anything!”
“Then you might be okay,” said Ryan.
Brett sat down on the small sofa. He did so mechanically, like he was ordering his limbs to move rather than feeling them. Then he changed his mind. He leapt back up and raced over to the kitchenette’s sink, turning on both taps. The bleach was all gone, so he searched for something else, eventually grabbing a fresh bottle of vodka. He poured it into a plastic mixing bowl and submerged his entire hand.
Aaron hurried over to him but kept his distance. “Will alcohol help?”
Brett closed his eyes, his face a picture of pure misery. He ignored the question posed to him, didn’t even seem to hear it. “We need to get out of here. I’m not ending up like Sean. I won’t!”
Ryan came closer and examined Brett’s wrist from a few feet away. A fuzzy green handprint encircled his flesh, an echo of Sean’s touch. It confirmed that the infection was spread via contact. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Short of chopping off my hand, no.”
Ryan looked at the knives on the counter. None of them looked capable of taking off a hand, but if there was no other choice…
Brett’s expression turned sour. “I was joking. No one is cutting off my hand. I just need to get to a hospital. That’s what you can do for me. Get me in front of a doctor who understands this, because I sure as hell don’t.”
“No problem,” said Ryan, not knowing what else to say. “I’ll get you to a doctor. I promise.”
“Give over!” Brett always worked hard to keep his speech polite and educated, but more and more the Manchester boy was escaping. “It’s ain’t like we can catch a bus. I can’t get anywhere on this sodding ankle.”
“I can’t make it into the village either,” said Loobey. “I’ll be out of breath before I make it halfway. Less, if Sean legs it after us.”
“Either we all go or none of us do,” said Ryan, “so where does that leave us?”
“What if we try rolling Tom’s car?” Aaron suggested. “We’re uphill, right? Maybe, if we can get the car to the road, we can roll it all the way into the village.”
Brett seemed to mull it over, and then shrugged. “Even if it gets us halfway, it would help.”
“We still have to make it inside the car,” said Loobey. “Sean’s still out there, along with God knows how many infected animals.”
“You’re right,” said Brett, “but what’s the alternative? Ryan, when does the landlord expect you back with the keys?”
“He said he would come by Sunday, around noon.”
Brett grimaced, glancing back at Loobey. “You see? We can’t wait until tomorrow. Who knows what Sean will dump through the window next? Not to mention…” He held up his wrist. Tiny green hairs had begun to sprout from the oily stain. “Time is literally ticking for me, Loobey. I don’t have the option of staying put.”
Loobey nodded unhappily. “Then I guess we’re making a run for the car.”
Brett grabbed a knife from the counter. “I’m already infected, so I’ll lead the way.”
Ryan disagreed. “You might be infected, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt. We stick together the whole way. Mates, right?”
Brett nodded. “Yeah, mates. I’d shake your hand, but…”
“Yeah, stay the fuck away from me.” Ryan smiled to show he was joking. Sean might be beyond help,
