Free The Screaming (Book 1): Dead City by Matthew Warwick

otherwise engaged. Zac crawled forward to a pillar and sat behind it, shocked at how out of breath he was. The staircase was only, yards away. Zac took a large deep breath, and raised himself to his feet, pressing his back against the cold pillar. He counted in his head.
     
    “One, two, three.” Frozen. He couldn’t move. Fear was setting in as he stood, exposed in the open.
     
    “Come on you fucking idiot.”
     
    “One, two, three.”
     
                  He darted for the stairs, his foot hit the fourth step without breaking stride and he bounded topside.
                 
                 

Chapter four
     
                  His feet planted onto the top step and he paused to listen for pursuers. No sign of the old teacher or any others bounding up the stairs after him. Zac exhaled hard with relief and turned his attention to what was ahead. A long corridor appeared to taper off to a row of chrome turnstiles. Beyond these the main station. An unimpressive concourse of art deco, filled with benches and ticket machines. The station then opened onto a large corridor where a small set of steps with brass hand rails connected the station interior to the outside. Zac was shocked to find daylight blasting in through the corridor. Just how much time had passed? The sounds of alarms, screams and shouting resonated from the streets. The occasional figure darted past the station front at speed, casting elongated shadows on the walls.
                  Zac squatted next to a wall and scanned for movement. He saw no signs of anyone inside the station, but the shadows and noise invading from outside, terrified him. He expected a torrent of screaming cannibals to penetrate the comparatively peaceful station at any moment.
                  Zac slowly stood and edged forward along the wall until he reached the turnstiles, squatted behind them and again scanned the room. To his left was a row of glass fronted ticket booths. Two of the glass fronts had been smashed and blood coated the desks. A large clock above the desks read, 04:42 am. He paused to listen. Whatever had happened there, appeared to be over. A trail of blood meandered up the corridor and outside where the attackers had clearly made their escape. It was a modest sized room and it was clear to Zac that his only way out was the corridor onto the street.
                  He took a moment to dwell over his options. Going back down was not on the cards. He couldn’t face it down there again. Concentration was becoming tougher, as he struggled to push the bloody carnage he had faced, to the back of his mind. A creeping migraine filled his head. He needed a drink. The dust of his cage prison hung in the back of his throat. One thing was clear, he needed help. But where from? Who? Whatever the answer to those questions, he knew he wouldn’t find them within this station. He had to try his luck outside.
     
    “Right” He said defiantly. He raised to his feet and leapt the barriers.
     
                  He scooted over to a row of benches and slowly edged his way along the corridor. No shadows had passed by for several minutes and the sounds seemed further away, the closer he got. Perhaps amplified by the narrow hallway, he thought to himself. The blood trail from the ticket machines faded as it reached the small steps up onto the street. Zac squinted as daylight dazzled him as he edged into the open. He felt more exposed and vulnerable than ever. He quickly rubbed his eyes to try and re-focus on his new environment.
                  Immediately outside the station was a bus stop. A large red double decker bus sat alongside it with all its doors open. Several smashed windows lined the ground floor of the bus and the now tell-tale signs of a bloody attack were clearly evident. Beyond the bus was a large road of several lanes. Abandoned cars appeared strategically placed like chess