Free Surviving the Fall: How England Died by Stephen Cross Page B

“What happened, where’s Johnny?”
    “I ran. I don’t know, I’m sorry Mac, I fucked up. I just came down here and hid. Bloody hell, I’m sorry Mac.”
    “Gah,” said Mac, letting go. He looked around for a weapon - a chair leg lay in the corner. “Here,” he said thrusting it at Gaz, “Take this and follow me. And stop your bloody crying. Pull yourself together lad.”
    They made their way up the stairs with Mac in front. The cellar door led to the bottom of the stairs. To the right was the pub, and to the left a short corridor led to the kitchen. All looked quiet.
    They took a few steps forward, then Mac heard a clang to his left. He held up his hand, “Listen…” he pointed into the kitchen.
    There was a sudden tumultuous crash, the sound of metal hitting the floor, and then a low moan.
    “Bugger’s in the kitchen,” whispered Mac.
    They moved slowly to the kitchen door and Mac peered round the corner, to see Johnny, or at least what used to be Johnny, stumbling around the kitchen. There was a table in the middle, and Johnny, confused, walked back and forth between the wall and table.
    Mac eased back into the corridor. “He’s in there alright. Against the back of the wall. You go round one side of the table, I’ll go the other.”
    Gaz nodded quickly, sweat forming on his forehead.
    “You alright with this?”
    Gaz nodded again, “Yeah, sure. I got it.”
    As soon as Johnny saw Mac and Gaz enter the room, he let out a loud moan. His movements became frenzied as he pushed against the table, trying to get to them. He bent over the table in a futile attempt to reach them both, moving slightly from side to side, but no definite direction taken.
    “We move at the same time,” said Mac. He moved to the right, and Gaz moved to the left.
    Johnny moaned again, now confused as to which way to go. His arms moved out in both directions.
    Gaz and Mac moved slowly along the sides of the table. “Keep your eyes on him… No sudden movements…” Mac held his crowbar up ready to strike, as did Gaz with the chair leg.
    “That’s it Gaz, nice and… Gaz!”
    Gaz tumbled and he let out a yell as he fell to the floor.
    Johnny spun round fast, got round the table and dived on Gaz, who let out a series of yells, each getting louder than the last.
    Mac darted round to Gaz’s side of the table, and reached for Gaz to pull him out of Johnny’s reach, but then Mac felt his feet slipping from under him. He landed hard on the floor, the tiles were wet and slippery. Soup. That was the crash earlier - Johnny had knocked a pot of soup onto the floor.
    Mac skidded around, trying to get up. He felt a hand grab his ankle and he kicked it away. He scurried back against the far wall.
    “Mac! Mac!” shouted Gaz.
    Blood spurted out of Gaz’z mouth as he shouted. Johnny was pulling himself along Gaz’s body, biting, pulling at the flesh. He ripped at Gaz’s stomach, and with the help of his hands, began to pull out a long chain of intestines that went straight into his mouth. Gaz looked down in horror for a few seconds, his cries escalating to an unbearable volume, before he passed out.
    Mac pulled himself up, and nearly landed on his arse again. There was a sharp pain in his ankle. “Bollocks”, he shouted.
    Johnny looked up from his feast and hissed at Mac. Johnny stood up and began to make his way towards him.
    Mac, in shock and pain, backed out of the kitchen, reeling in fear and disgust. He turned and hobbled down the corridor, then realised he hadn’t shut the kitchen door behind him. He turned, but saw Johnny emerging, a new speed and fervour in his motion. Mac practised a swing, but he was unable to get any strength into it, his ankle shouting in pain, threatening to give way.
    He turned and made his way up the stairs, pulling himself up the bannister. When at the top, he ducked behind the wall and carefully looked down to the bottom of the stairs. Johnny soon appeared, but stopped at the stairs. He looked around,