Rise and Fall

Chapter 2

The six o’clock news reader, Angela Simms, tries her best to maintain her composure. Her complexion, usually an even olive tone, now has a green tinge to it. Her brown eyes keep focussing on something off-camera; no doubt her producer, silently asking, ‘What the fuck have I just watched?’

   She takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘The public are urged to be vigilant and to keep their distance if they see a creature similar to this in their vicinity.’ Her voice shakes. ‘It is recommended to stay indoors if possible, or to spend as little time outside as is feasible. We will be keeping you regularly updated on this story.’ Another deep breath and Angela moves onto the next, much happier story, intended to lighten the mood of the programme.

   But the couple sitting on the sofa in front of their television are too astonished to pay any attention to the positive story. They stare at the screen, then at each other, and then back at the screen; mouths open the entire time, trying to process what they’ve just seen.

   Reaching for the remote, the young woman says, ‘I don’t believe I just saw that.’ She presses a button on the controller and the news begins to rewind.

   ‘No, Becky, don’t put it on again!’ protests her boyfriend, attempting to snatch the remote from her hand.

   Becky slides to the floor and scuttles out of his reach. ‘This is insane, Pat! It could be someone pulling a nationwide prank. You never can tell. Jess,’ she hollers the name, ‘come and see this!’

   Footsteps can be heard from the floor above, moving across the landing and down the stairs. Unwilling to watch the gruesome phone footage for a second time, Patrick mumbles under his breath and stalks into the kitchen. Becky hears the kettle begin to boil, presumably to cover the screams that might carry.

   Jess, Becky’s best friend and Pat’s sister, enters the living room, her brow furrowed in confusion. ‘What’s up?’ she asks, taking in the scene before her.

   ‘Have you watched the news?’ Becky enquires, stopping the programme at the start of the appropriate story.

   ‘No. Why?’

   Becky pats a space on the floor next to her. ‘Watch this.’

   Once Jess has settled herself on the carpet, Becky presses play and the news bulletin resumes. Angela Simms reappears on the screen, just as she had five minutes before, looking sombre and concerned. She explains the background to the clip, sent in by a member of the public who had found a discarded iPhone; it shows a male jogger from the midlands, attacked by an ‘infected’ human and mauled to death. Following her brief summary, the footage dominates the screen. Jess watches, transfixed.

   As the clip comes to an end, Becky pauses the programme once more and looks at her friend. ‘What do you think? Genuine article or made up?’

   Jess has turned a similar shade of green to Angela Simms. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s genuine,’ she confirms, her voice hushed.

   Becky is surprised. ‘Are you sure?’ Jess is smart and sceptical, with an eye for detail, and always quick to pick up on something that isn’t entirely sound. If there is anyone that could deem the clip to be fabricated, it’s her. But she hasn’t.

   ‘I’m positive,’ she decides reluctantly. ‘Watch the clip again. Ignore the zombie; look at the field.’

   ‘Do you have to watch it again?’ calls Pat from the kitchen.

   ‘Yes! Get in here! This is important,’ Becky snaps, rewinding the clip for the second time. When the right point is found, and Pat has re-entered the room, she presses play and watches closely. As soon as the camera displays a clear shot of the field where the incident took place, she pauses it…and starts to recognise the area.

   ‘Shit, it’s Coppynook,’ she whispers, mesmerised by what she sees on the TV. The surrounding trees; the rising banks that surround the field; the football goal posts at either end of it; all are features of the place that Becky, Jess, and their other close friends spent a lot of their time as teenagers. A small part of her brain finds it hard to process the fact that their old haunt has been on national television.

   But this is quickly overridden by the fact that Coppynook field is no more than half a mile away from Pat and Jess’s house, their current residence. The ‘infected’ human could be anywhere, but it certainly won’t be far away.

   ‘What do we do?’ Becky wonders aloud, speaking to no one in particular. Her thought processes are in overdrive, moving so quickly that she can’t really think of anything at all.

   ‘I’ll text Josh,’ Jess says, already tapping away on her phone.

   Josh is a friend of theirs, one that they spent all that time with on the field, back in the day. Not that Jess wants Josh to answer their question; he lives on the same road the field is on.

   Within seconds of having sent the text, Jess receives a reply. ‘He’s all right,’ she summarises, relieved. ‘Says that he saw it briefly, but it’s gone now. He’s not seen any more since.’

   ‘We should lock all the doors and windows,’ Pat suggests, heading back into the kitchen to lock the side door. Becky and Jess get to their feet and move to lock the conservatory and the front door.

   Out in the conservatory, Becky pushes the door handle upwards to set the lock in place. As she turns the key, she hears a crash and her head snaps up.

   Through the glass pane of the door, she sees an ‘infected’ human traipsing over the fence panel it’s just demolished, plodding into the back garden. A sudden wave of nausea rolls in her stomach. Her hand is still on the key; she has forgotten how to move. Watching the creature get closer to the house, all she can do is mutter, ‘Shit the bed.’

   And then the adrenalin kicks in and she’s skidding into the living room, shrieking, ‘We need to move!’ as she goes.