Collapse: Chapter One

ONE

The car had crashed less than a minute earlier, slamming into the concrete barrier head-on. The bonnet had been crushed and someone had flown out of the windscreen, cracking their spine on a lamp post. They lay still, the only movement the irregular fluttering of their chest as they struggled to breathe. Inside the car, a woman slumped in the driver’s seat. Her head rested against the steering wheel and her hair drooped over her face, hiding any wounds.

Seth had watched it happen impassively. Things worse than this were not uncommon these days. Though the roads were empty, people had a tendency to panic, wanting to put as much distance as possible between themselves and whatever was chasing them. They’d speed, and when they reached a turn they couldn’t make, they’d die. Cars had probably killed more people than the lunatics, he thought.

Cautiously, Seth approached the wreckage. There could be something useful in there. Food, weapons. But whatever had chased them into this barrier, lunatic or Twisted, couldn’t be too far behind. More would be coming soon, too. The crash had made a lot of noise. Any scavenger worth their salt would be stirred by the sound like a shark was stirred by the smell of blood. He was confident, however, that he could outrun whatever was after them if it came to it. He couldn’t hear any more vehicles, and his athletics training had come in handy before.

A sudden sound caught his attention. Laughter and whooping from a side street, the one the car had come from. Cursing, Seth vaulted a barrier, crouching behind it. He watched through a gap in the concrete as a group of men emerged, jogging towards the wreckage. He counted them. There were about six. He cursed again, silently, as he noticed the assault rifle that one of them clutched to their chest. A kalashnikov. Where the hell did they get that? They weren’t military. He scanned the rest of them. They all held unconventional weaponry. Baseball bats, golf clubs. A machete.

Lunatics.

He watched them as they surrounded the car. One of them smashed the window on the boot and began to rifle through it. The rest took up positions around the car, peering in the windows. One of them reached in and opened the driver’s door, pulling the unconscious woman out. Another noticed the paralyzed man on the other side of the barrier, hooting with glee. He shouted something, and the one holding the machete jumped the barrier. The others watched gleefully.

Seth looked away, focusing on the man looking through the boot. He had managed to open it fully now, and was pulling out boxes of juice. He kicked one, as if it was worthless. Seth flinched. Fruit juice was almost as valuable as water.

Movement from the woman caught his eye. She rolled over onto her back and tried to sit up, rubbing her head. Kalashnikov heard her, looking away from Machete, who was happily hacking away, every strike painting red arcs in the air. He said something, striding towards her. She noticed him and rolled over again, trying to break into a run, but he stepped on her back and slammed the butt of his rifle into her head. She slumped again. He shouted something to the man looking through the boot, who held up his hands apologetically.

More lunatics were emerging now, approaching the wreck slowly. Seth’s eyes widened. There must have been dozens of them. It was the largest group of lunatics he’d ever seen. The chasers stopped what they were doing and welcomed them. Even Machete stopped dismembering his toy and joined in.

He needed to leave. Now. They’d search this entire area, and then they’d set up ambushes for any more scavengers. If he stayed, they’d find him. Then he’d be done for.

Slowly, he began to inch his way along the barrier, listening for any signs of them noticing him. They were still talking amongst themselves.  Shouting now. Two of them seemed to be fighting, cursing and slashing at each other. He heard their weapons crack together.

When he reached the edge of the barrier, he looked around tentatively. They were focused on the fight. Machete had joined in, howling like an animal. He scanned the street for any avenues of escape. The road was totally empty, but he spotted an open door to a building with boarded up windows. If he made it in there, he could reach the rooftops, and if he could block the door it’d buy him some time. He’d have to make a run for it, though.

Running one thing he could do well. He just hoped Kalashnikov hadn’t used that weapon before.

He looked back at the lunatics. He could no longer see the fight, as they had crowded around it too densely. It was now or never.

Breaking cover, he ran.

He made it about ten meters before the first lunatic noticed him. The lunatics gave chase, but Seth didn’t look back to see how many of them were following him. He could outrun them, however many there were.

“Out of the way, out of the way!” Came a shout. Knowing what was coming, Seth threw himself to the ground, and the first few shots whistled over him. The gunfire stopped. Seth launched into a sprint again.

“Shoot him!” He heard someone roar angrily.

“It’s fucking jammed!” Came the reply. “Shitty ammo!”

“Learn how to use that thing, you dick!”

The doorway was a few meters in front of him. Launching himself through, Seth slammed the door behind him, sliding the locks into place. Allowing himself a few seconds to catch his breath, he jumped as something slammed into the door. Laughing, he listened to the confusion outside.

Then a fire axe bit into the boards over the window, and he began to run again.

He reached the second floor before he heard the lunatics break in. The next flight of stairs was blocked, so he barged into a side room, closing and blocking the door behind him with a sofa. He heard a window smash near him.

Machete hauled himself over the windowsill, clutching his blade between his teeth. Seth stumbled back.

“How did you-?” He stammered.

“I climbed.” Machete said plainly. He held the blade in his hand now. The two stared at each other for a second before Machete darted forwards, screaming a war cry.

Seth dodged the first strike, ducking to the side. He slammed his fist into Machete’s stomach as he attempted to lunge into a second attack, but it simply thumped against solid muscle. Barely managing to evade the second blow, Seth stepped back a few paces, putting a bit of distance between himself and Machete, who jumped forwards again.

This time, Seth charged under the blow, tackling Machete. The pair fell to the ground, grappling. Seth managed to straddle his opponent, holding his arms on the ground with his knees, and struck him twice hard in the face. Machete spat blood and wrenched one of his arms free, slamming the hilt of the blade into Seth’s face. He rolled off of him, yelling sharply in pain.

Seth stood and backed up against the wall, searching for a weapon. His hand closed around a broomstick. By now, Machete was on his feet, charging forwards again. He jabbed him in the stomach with the stick, doubling him over, then hit his temple. Machete pitched to the side, unconscious.

Rubbing his jaw, Seth rested against the wall. He could hear the lunatics trying to force their way through the door.  The sound suddenly stopped. Then a much louder sound deafened him as the door was perforated with gunfire. Kalashnikov had unjammed his weapon, then.

Noticing a fire escape on the side of the adjacent building, Seth smashed the window with the broomstick. He had no choice. He took a run-up, leaping for it, just managing to grab onto the railing. Inadvertently, he looked down. It was a sheer drop to the concrete below. A drop from this high would break his legs. He balked and then, with great effort, hauled himself onto the fire escape.

The door burst open in the room behind him. Looking back, he saw a lunatic try to jump to the fire escape. The lunatic managed to catch the railing, but his grip slipped and he fell. There was a sickening sound as he impacted the floor below, then he began to wail in pain.

Seth ran up the fire escape as Kalashnikov opened fire. He felt a sharp pain in his leg as a shard of brick found his thigh, but then he was out of the line of fire. Kalashnikov shouted for someone to follow him, but it seemed like nobody felt like attempting the jump.

Stumbling up the fire escape, Seth paused to regain his composure. That had been far too close. He was safe now, but he knew the lunatics would try to find him until he left the area. Not for a while though. One he reached the top, he walked awkwardly across the roof, slumping down against a brick wall.

The wound in his thigh wasn’t deep, but it was wide. He took his backpack off, rifling through it until he found what he was looking for; disinfectant and bandages. He winced as he applied the disinfectant, then wound the bandages tight around his leg. He watched as blood blossomed on the bandages like a flower.