by Brown, TW
The sign had one word: Micklefield.
***
There was an eerie silence, and Shadiyah paused every couple of steps to listen for anything that might indicate movement. Each time she paused, she asked herself if she really needed to venture into this place.
Stop being such a ninny, she scolded herself mentally. You currently possess one weapon. If something happens to it, you are done in.
She reached a large room with busted bits of whatever the museum had been using to keep its precious weapons and armor safe and secure. Yes, this place had obviously been looted. She could see dark lumps on the floor and closer inspection revealed that they were mannequins. Most had been entirely stripped of anything useful. There were even a couple of zombies in the mix that had been taken down.
One in particular looked like whoever had ended its existence used it for a bit of sport before the final blow was given. It had its arms and legs cleaved from it and the blow to the head had actually split the skull almost perfectly in half.
She wove through the massive complex and kept having sudden flare ups of worry that her flashlight would simply go out and leave her stranded in the dark. Eventually she did manage to scavenge up some metal bracers for her forearms that had wicked spikes running along their exterior. She tried on several other pieces but decided that most of it was simply too damn heavy.
After finally settling on two small but sturdy swords from one exhibit and a leather jerkin, she felt that she was ready to venture back outside. On the way, she came upon an exhibit of bows. After several failed attempts to even get the string drawn back, she gave up and cast the bow and arrows aside.
“Looks so easy on the telly,” she sniffed as she returned to the main entrance and grabbed her bags.
Once she was outside, she dragged her canoe along until she cleared the lock and then resumed her journey. More than once she heard terrible screams unlike anything she’d ever heard in her life. She could not imagine the pain or horror that could induce such sounds. More than once it made her stop paddling as shivers rattled her bones and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
Eventually, she noticed that she was leaving Leeds behind. Glancing back, she saw so many columns of smoke rising into the sky that the entire city looked like it would burn and leave nothing behind to show that it had ever existed. The thought of it made her sad.
“How does an entire city burn down?” she asked out loud.
The sound of her own voice actually startled her and caused her to look around for signs of anything or anybody that might have heard. She saw nothing. In fact, to her right looked to be some sort of massive shipping yard with its huge machinery and giant trucks designed for hauling.
She could see more than a couple of the undead wandering about, but nothing too worrisome. If only she knew how to drive, she could hop in one of those big trucks and drive to the first castle she could find and start her own kingdom.
She quickly dismissed that fantasy and looked to the left where the countryside was changing from the closely packed in buildings and residences to open fields. The bridge allowing the M1 to cross over the River Aire loomed and she made a tough choice. While there was a certain degree of safety afforded her by being in the canoe, she had already discovered how difficult it was to carry one around a lock. She had managed to get free of the city; that had been her goal, and it seemed that she’d reached it.
Paddling for the northern bank, Shadiyah climbed out of the canoe, grabbed her gear, and started into the woods along a narrow trail. She decided that she would not use the motorway. No sense putting herself in unnecessary danger. While it was certainly possible that she could encounter a zombie out in these woods, it was much less likely than if she walked out in the open; that also held true for the living.
She walked all the rest of that afternoon, keeping the M1 to her left. Late in the day she passed what she believed to be some sort of large farm to her right. Already she could see the plumes of smoke to her right in the distance beyond the farm indicating what was likely one of the suburban towns that surrounded the proper city. Also, just ahead a mile or so and to the left were more signs of the destruction.
“Bloody fires are everywhere,” she grumbled.
Looking skyward, she could tell she did not have much time remaining before darkness came on to the point of making travel impossible. She needed to find someplace safe to sleep. Eventually an overpass came into view and she decided to emerge from the woods and fields to see if she might find a good spot to camp for the night.
She was astounded by the sections of the motorway that were completely open only to eventually become automobile graveyards with cars, trucks and all manner of vehicles jammed in tight and forever silent now that their owners had either abandoned them, or perished inside.
As soon as she came up to the motorway, she recognized where she had emerged. She was between the town of Garforth and the Parrish of Austhorpe. That revelation was a bit discouraging. She had not travelled all that far to this point.
She suddenly found herself wondering how Simon and his group were faring. Had they managed to escape the city? Certainly it was not likely that they had some sort of watercraft made available. With what she had seen, it was quite possible that they never even made it out alive.
She was surprised to discover that that thought made her just a bit sad. Of course she would be fine if Cedric had been eaten by the zombies, but Mrs. Raye, Simon, and that little girl were not completely deserving of such a thing.
Not completely.
They had abandoned her. Even worse, they had taken up with one of the animals responsible for her sister’s death. They could say what they like about how he had not been present, but she didn’t care what excuses they provided him or that he made.
She stopped and realized that she was now standing in front of a Jet petrol station. What surprised her was that, up to this point, she had not encountered any of the walking dead. She was about to investigate whether there might be any snacks remaining inside when one of those terrible screams began.
It definitely sounded like it belonged to a female judging by the pitch. Pulling the scimitar free from its scabbard, she broke into a jog and followed the road to the right as it branched off and headed into some sort of business park. A second scream joined the first which was now beginning to die. This one was quite possibly male, but young.
It was at this point that she started to run. The screams were increasing, and now she was certain that she heard more voices; these sounded as if they might be begging. At last she reached a sign at the entrance to some sort of inn. The sign read: The Thorpe Park Hotel & Spa.
The entrance to the complex was where at least a hundred of the undead were gathered. All of them were reaching skyward. At the rails of some sort of walkway were several figures. Currently, two of them were grappling with a young boy of twelve or so while the sea of undead arms that waved, clutched and writhed below in a vain attempt to reach the melee that was taking place about ten feet above them.
Shadiyah counted five individuals that looked to be causing the trouble. Two were fighting with the young man by the rail while lashing out a knife; another two had women clutched to them and looked to be forcing them to watch what was going on, and one was leaning over the rail having what sounded like a good laugh.
“Well, well…what do we have here?” a voice crooned from behind her.
***
Flat, grass fields stretched out on both sides of what Simon told them was Church Lane. Mrs. Raye and Annie stuck to the center line while Simon and Cedric waded out into the grass and dispatched the single and small groups of zombies that were shambling through those open fields. The outskirts of Micklefield could now be seen and everybody began to unconsciously pick up their tempo. Simon was the first to pretty much clear his side of any nearby walking dead and hurried over to help Cedric with the last few to their right.
He was almost to the man when something
caught his foot sending him sprawling on his face. He heard the shouts from Mrs. Raye asking if he was okay, but he had landed wrong and the handle of his mace caught him in the solar plexus, knocking the wind from him in a painful rush.
Flat on his face, he struggled and could not even find the strength to roll over; even worse, he could not seem to be able to breathe at all. That terrifying sensation was almost as paralyzing as the sight that filled his vision when he managed to turn his head. Just a few inches away, the undead visage of a zombie was opening its mouth wide, craning its neck forward so that it could reach him and take a bite out of his face.
He wanted to scream…call for help…anything. Sadly, with the wind knocked from him, he would be able to do nothing except prepare for the terrible pain that was about to eclipse what he was already feeling. He did the only thing he could think of as the face drew near; Simon closed his eyes and waited.
There was a strange sound that reminded Simon of a melon being cleaved in two despite him never actually having heard such a sound before. He felt a hand grab his shoulder and yank him over onto his back.
“Hey, copper, you gonna just lay there?”
Simon opened his eyes to see Cedric staring down at him with a wicked grin on his face. He opened his mouth to express his thanks and nothing more than a pathetic squeak managed to make its way out.
“Had the wind knocked from ya,” the man tisked and clucked his tongue. “Not a very good feeling, yeah? Had that happen a few times as a hooker for the local rugby team. Let me tell ya, when one of them fatties gives you the business, you bloody well know it.”
“Is he okay?” Mrs. Raye’s voice called out.
“Yeah, just had the wind taken out of his sails,” Cedric called back, reaching a hand down to Simon.
Try as he might, Simon could not get to his feet just yet. It took him a while; so long, in fact, that Cedric had to venture out and take down a few more zombies that were closing the distance and would become a problem if not dealt with immediately.
When he was finally able to stand, he was still bent a bit at the waist and Annie moved over to take his hand. “Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes squinting as she leaned in for a closer look.
Simon felt his already struggling lungs get even tighter. The way Annie was staring made him remember his bite with a sudden shock. Even worse, he had lost his sunglasses in the fall. Was this it? If it was, he could at least rest in the fact that he had gotten his group here to Micklefield. Of course they still had no idea if they were in any better conditions than back in the city.
“You don’t look very good,” Annie said, patting Simon on the cheek.
“Getting the wind knocked from you is quite unpleasant,” Mrs. Raye offered as she came up to give Simon a look. Simon held his breath as the woman gave him a good once over. At last, she stood up straight and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “We can take a minute or two for you to catch your breath, young man, but not too long.” She swept her arm out to the fields and the scattered array of walking dead that were now obviously aware of their presence.
Simon let out a long sigh of relief. Apparently he was still not displaying the tracers in his eyes. That was a good sign, but how much longer could he hope for his luck to hold out. Sooner or later he would succumb to the bite…right?
They continued up Church Lane until they came to the stone announcing that they were now in Mickelfield. Just ahead, they could see the small shacks for the Metro stop on either side of the road. Modest brick homes were on each side, but there was something else that had everybody’s attention.
The first street that branched off to the right was blocked with all manner of vehicles that had been wedged in amongst each other. In addition, the whole mess had been wrapped in barbed wire. There were a few dead bodies scattered about, each having obviously been taken down with severe trauma to the head. Looking further along up the lane, they could see more of the same on the subsequent roads that went to the right. To the left, there was no such thing being done. Many of the houses showed signs of having been hastily abandoned, and that is also where the first zombie came stumbling from.
The pathetic creature looked to have been an elderly man well into his seventies. He had little more than a fringe of hair remaining as a wreath around his head, and he was so stooped over that it almost seemed impossible that he could see anything in front of him other than his own feet. Yet, after a few unsteady steps, the thing paused, turned towards them, and began its slow shamble their direction.
Cedric stepped away from the group and began to approach the lone zombie when a voice called out, “Leave him be!”
Everybody turned towards the sound and saw three figures emerge from a narrow alley branching from what the sign announced as Hallfield Avenue. They were all dressed in heavy denim pants and jackets. Each had goggles and a respiratory mask on as well as snug woolen caps that helped hide their gender, although it was clear that the one who had spoken was a male with his deep, gruff tone.
“Christ, I hope these lunatics aren’t trying to save the undead,” Simon whispered.
“Not at all,” a female voice said from behind the group, causing everybody to spin around suddenly and bring up their weapons out of reflex.
Annie squeaked and scooted behind Mrs. Raye, her head twisting back and forth between the three people that had first greeted them and this new arrival that was dressed in the same fashion except for her goggles being up on her forehead and her mask hanging at her neck. The woman was holding a bastardized piece of farming equipment that was now a long handled multi-pronged spear with barbed blades on the outer tines.
“We just choose to ignore them until we have enough worth worrying about. If we took down every walking corpse that came through, we would be hacking and chopping all day and every day.” The woman planted the butt of her weapon on the ground so that it was not pointed at the new arrivals.
“I am here looking for my cousin,” Simon spoke after a few uneasy seconds where everybody simply seemed to be evaluating each other and assessing for possible weaknesses.
“You Simon Wood?” one of the trio called. This voice belonged to a woman who sounded like she had been a chain-smoker most of her life.
“Yes.”
“You’re the vicar’s cousin.” It was not a question. “He will be happy to see you, no doubt.”
“And me him,” Simon replied.
“Before we let you in, a few questions,” the man who had first spoken to them said, pulling his own mask down and flipping his goggles up. That seemed to be a sign for the rest, because the other two followed suit.
The man was a tall, hefty sort, but not fat. He looked like the type that worked out in the fields, his skin ruddy and creased from the years of exposure. He had a wide, barrel chest and arms that made the sleeves of his denim jacket look almost like blue sausage casings which begged the question as to how well he could actually move around. He had a shock of dark, curly hair twining up from under the edges of his cap and his eyes were dark, but glittered with what might be a bit of humor. Almost as in confirmation, his lips curled in a slight smile that did not look at all out of place on his face.
“Before we do all that, could we perhaps do each other the courtesy of exchanging names?” Mrs. Raye asked primly. “My name is Henrietta Raye. You obviously already know Mr. Wood here. This other gent is Cedric Black, and this lass is Annie Sun.”
The man shot a look to the woman who currently had the group flanked. Simon picked up on the slight gesture and wondered if perhaps this woman might be running things. Whether or not that was the case, she stepped forward and spoke. “My name is Melena Duff.”
Melena looked to be in her early forties. She had wispy red hair fluttering in the breeze around the fringe of her cap and her eyes were as close to green as a human being could hope to attain naturally. Her skin was milky white and the lilt of an Irish accent was easy for him to discern. She had laugh lines and those were only exaggerated when she
flashed a bright smile. He guessed her to be barely a shade less than six feet if she did not perhaps peek just over.
“Nelson Wilbanks,” the gruff man said after getting an elbow from one of his cohorts.
“My name is Dawn Spengler,” the petite woman who had given the elbow said as she took a step forward and removed her cap to allow long, blond hair to cascade down past her shoulders.
She had bright blue eyes that caught the sun and flashed with mischief as she flipped up her goggles and pulled down her mask. Her mouth was just as tiny as she was, which Simon found amusing since her voice was so strong and loud…even a shade deep for a woman; although by no means masculine.
“Kas Asan,” the third member of the group said.
Kas was obviously Indian. His black hair and dark skin were the only giveaway though, since his accent was clearly Yorkshire through and through. He was the only one of the three that did not smile during his introduction, that was the first real thing that registered to Simon. Also, the young man—perhaps in his late teens—kept looking past them and up Church Lane in the direction that they had come as if he might be searching for something…
Or someone more likely, Simon thought.
“So, introductions are made, mum,” Nelson said. Simon noticed that his gruff tone was quite a bit more deferential as he spoke to the older woman. “Can we ask a few questions now?”
“By all means,” Mrs. Raye said agreeably.
“First, we are guessing that you do not number more than we see here?” That received mumbles of confirmation and agreement. “And have you encountered any military units in your travels?”
Simon shot Mrs. Raye a look and quickly scolded himself when he saw that she had not so much as flinched at the question. He was about to join the chorus of denials when Melena spoke.
“Were they north of here on the other side of Garforth?” she asked, moving around to be closer to the rest of her people. Her eyes were locked on to Simon and it was obvious that she had seen his look.