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

began hammering her left fist against the perspex window, the right arm hanging helplessly at her side, tendons severed and chewed. A penetrating shrill sputtered from her mouth, splattering blood on the terrifyingly fragile door and reverberating around Zac’s horrific cage. He looked around the cab with an overwhelming desperation for escape, as the woman’s cry bellowed on. He looked to his right and deep panic set in, as he realised the cab door onto the platform was wide open.
                  The lady driver was laid out on the platform outside the door, her bulky form torn open from neck to crotch. Her intestines hanging from the mouth of a waxen faced boy, no older than 13 years of age, who was crouched over her lifeless carcass. Zac slowly edged towards the door, still undecided whether to close it or run through it. But the boy had noticed the movement to his left and his head shot up from his meal, fixing his sodden red gaze on Zac. The boy leapt to his feet and threw himself towards the door. Zac’s previous indecision was now redundant as he darted forward grabbing the door and slamming it closed, with a clunk of the ageing door blot as it locked in place.
                  The feeling of relief was short lived, as more of the feeding monsters, teemed around the cab.
     
    “Fuck off, leave me alone.” He yelled, as he felt his options evaporate along with his grasp on the reality of the situation.
     
                  He rapidly rubbernecked the cab, desperate for anything to aid his escape. A bright pink handbag hung over the upright of the driver seat, full of nothing but nail varnish and make up. The bag was quickly discarded as Zac continued his desperate search for a miracle. The perspex windows began to shake and crack as a boundless barrage of punches from all sides landed on the weakening structure. Screams boomed around the station as more and more shrieking beasts drained on to the platform, drawn by the call of their kin to the fresh hunt.
                  Zac had run out of options, arms stretched through shattering cracks in the windows as Zac edged his back side up onto the driver’s console. A small glimmer of hope flashed across Zac’s face as he spied a black fire extinguisher clipped to the wall above the bowing door. He sprung up grabbing the extinguisher and fumbling with the clips, like his first attempt at a girl’s bra. He freed his new Excalibur and immediately set about pulling the pin. He raised the coned nozzle at the carnivorous horde, and squeezed the lever, releasing a cloud of white fog as he waved it from side to side.
                  The extinguisher soon spluttered and coughed to nothing and had little effect except to ironically, fuel the fire of freaks, now engulfing the cab. Hands grabbed at Zac’s clothing, mere finger tips out of reach of their next meal. He raised the extinguisher and swung it desperately at the snatching clutches, creaking closer, with every crack of perspex. A spark of inspiration somehow found its way to the front of Zac’s overloaded head. He clambered onto the console, raised the extinguisher and released an immense attack on the front window of the cab.
                  He unleashed a despairing torrent of hits and the window exploded into a harmless confetti of small fragments of glass. Zac didn’t waste time thanking the god of health and safety legislation for safety glass, as he dove through the window frame into the pitch black tunnel outside.
          He had landed hard in the darkness, sending a shuddering pain up the back of his right leg. He turned to look back into the crumbling cab, as the mass of ravenous bodies packed the carriage. The woman in the white blouse was pressed hard against the internal door, now lifeless. Crushed against the door frame by the frantic mass of bodies behind, contending for a chance at fresh meat. Zac turned and quickly hobbled into