Z-Series (Book 4): Z-Takeover

by Hatchett

Tom nodded and wearily climbed to his feet before leaving the room.

  “I’m worried about him,” the Major noted.

  “He’ll be fine,” Jack replied. “He’s just taking things personally, but he’ll soon be back to normal once everything has settled down again. OK, we’ve got to decide what we’re going to do with Ayla.”

  6

  Day 16 – 10:00

  Heathrow Terminal 3, Security Command Area

  Issy and Gina returned to the interview room carrying a couple of cans of drinks each and some snacks. They also had Ayla’s rucksack, which they had searched the night before. There had been nothing of real interest in there.

  Gina passed over the rucksack and offered the refreshments to Ayla, who chose a can of Lemonade and a packet of cheese and onion crisps.

  “What are you going to do with me?” Ayla asked, opening her can and taking a long drink.

  “That depends on you,” Issy interjected. “Tell us what we want to know, and we’ll let you go home. Lie to us or refuse to answer our questions…” Issy let the sentence hang and allow Ayla to imagine the worst.

  Ayla opened the packet of crisps and started eating, studiously ignoring Issy. She then took another drink and finally looked up.

  “What do you want to know?” Ayla asked, clearly having decided that she had nothing to hide.

  “Why did Mamba visit your father?” Issy asked.

  “He had some sort of plan and wanted my father’s help,” Ayla replied nonchalantly.

  “What plan?”

  “I have no idea. All I know is that my father ordered some of us to go with Mamba and do what he said.”

  “Which involved coming down here and bombing our perimeter,” Issy suggested.

  “Yes, but we didn’t know that’s what he had planned, and I had nothing to do with it,” Ayla stressed quickly.

  “So, other than Mamba and Ahmed, who was in your little group?”

  “There were only ten of us including me, and we lost Osman somewhere along the way.”

  Issy noted that this was what Sully had told her when they had met, so Ayla was currently telling the truth.

  “Why were you chosen to go?” Gina asked.

  “My father wanted me there to keep an eye on things and report back to him.”

  “Why? Couldn’t the others report back?” Issy asked.

  “Yes, but he may not have been told the whole truth,” Ayla explained.

  “Just the best bits?” Issy asked.

  “Something like that. My brothers certainly wouldn’t have said anything which was unfavourable to them.”

  “Were you the only female?”

  “Yes.”

  “No wonder Mamba targeted you for his extra-curricular entertainment,” Issy muttered. “You do know what sorts of things he’s done?”

  “Yes, I have been told,” Ayla confirmed.

  “And yet you let him have his way with you and you’re happy to have him as your ‘boyfriend’,” Issy almost accused Ayla, as if she had done some of the heinous things Mamba had done in the past.

  “I didn’t know when I met him…and he can be so loving and sweet. Almost like a little boy.” Ayla’s face took on a look of wistfulness until she remembered Mamba was dead and the look turned to one of sorrow.

  Issy almost gagged at Ayla’s words.

  “He was a fucking animal,” she stated, “raping people, killing people.”

  Ayla’s eyes snapped to Issy, her face reddening with anger.

  “You didn’t know him!”

  “I didn’t want to fucking know him. I wanted to kill him!” Issy hissed back with vehemence in her voice.

  “Then you got what you wished for!” Ayla shot back.

  Issy smiled, although it didn’t reach her eyes. Gina was about to try and bring the conversation back to calmer waters, but not before Issy managed to add more.

  “Not quite, I didn’t get to watch him suffer. Still, I bet you’ve seen it all before. Your father isn’t any better. Was Mamba like a surrogate father to you?”

  It looked like Ayla might launch herself at the still-smiling Issy, but she obviously thought better of it and sat back in her chair, the drink and crisps long forgotten.

  “Fuck off, bitch!” she hissed, “you know nothing about me or my family.”

  Issy continued to smile, although her eyes were now black and menacing.

  “Silly little girls ought to be careful what they say.”

  Ayla looked away from Issy and Gina took her chance to interrupt.

  “Where did the bombs come from?”

  Ayla looked towards Gina, pausing as her mind registered a change of direction in the conversation.

  “I don’t know. We were all carrying some gear which was given to us, so I assume Mamba already had them.”

  Gina decided there was no point in pursuing that particular point.

  “Where did you sleep?” she asked.

  “We cleared buildings when we needed to rest.”

  “How did you get here and back?”

  “We walked, and I’ve still got the blisters to prove it.”

  “Why didn’t Mamba go back to Sully instead of sending you?”

  “He thought you might be watching my home, and I guess he was right.”

  “What message did your father have for Mamba?”

  Ayla paused before replying, and that pause gave away the lie that was coming.

  “He told me to tell Mamba that he wanted nothing more to do with him.”

  Gina and Issy looked at each other, Issy rolling her eyes. It was clear that they weren’t going to get anything of use out of her.

  Issy stood up and Ayla flinched slightly, half expecting Issy to take a pop at her. Instead, Gina also rose, and the two women left the room.

  They were back a few minutes later.

  “Come on,” Gina ordered.

  Ayla looked at her, not sure what was going on and starting to worry about what these women were going to do.

  “Where are we going?” she asked quietly.

  “We’re taking you home,” Gina said, to the obvious relief of Ayla.

  Issy and Gina led Ayla to Jack’s office where Jack and the Major were both waiting. Gina made the introductions and pointed to a chair for Ayla to sit in.

  Jack held up a walkie-talkie that had been sitting on his desk. He clicked the ‘talk’ button before saying, “This is Jack Robinson in Heathrow. I would like to speak to Sully.”

  There was no answer, so Jack repeated his request. A few seconds later another voice replied.

  “This is Hakan. Sully is busy. What do you want?”

  “Can you tell Sully that we have his daughter, Ayla, and we’ll be bringing her home shortly, so please make sure the landing spot used before is clear?”

  Jack replaced the device on his desk and looked towards Ayla.

  “Your father agreed to contact us if Mamba ever got in touch with him again. I guess that’s no longer necessary.”

  “Mamba didn’t go back to my father,” Ayla pointed out.

  “Yes, so we understand,” Jack replied. “Issy and Gina will take you home shortly.” He pointed towards the exit.

  7

  Day 16 – 12:00

  Islington, London

  Mamba and Ahmed eased open the main door to the block of apartments and slowly left the building, merging with the zombies on the pavement and Wharf Road.

  As they were both ‘dirty’, they weren’t given a second look as they began shuffling Northwards into St Peter’s Street before turning right at the end onto the A104 Essex Road.

  They passed a couple of pubs, and although sorely tempted to pop in for a swift couple of drinks, Mamba wanted to reach his destination as soon as possible. Essex Road was like many of North London’s main thoroughfares; a lane going in either direction and a separate bus lane, wide pavements in front of shops and trees dotted along the route.

  After six hundred metres they crossed the main junction wi
th the A1200, Canonbury Road heading North-West and the New North Road heading South-East. They continued straight across the junction and continued up Essex Road for a further eight hundred metres until they reached the A1199, Balls Pond Road, where they stopped and took a good look around.

  “Where the fuck’re we goin’?” Ahmed whispered, annoyed that Mamba wouldn’t tell him what his plan was. “A fuckin’ stroll ‘round these shitty streets of North London is not exactly my idea of fun.”

  “Stop fuckin’ whingin’ Ahmed,” Mamba retorted. “Don’t ya know where we are?”

  “I know exactly where we are,” Ahmed replied, “which is why I’m fuckin’ worried. Ya do realise that ya can’t jus’ drop in on Sully, don’t ya?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Ahmed. Ya think I’m that fuckin’ stupid? Anyway, it ain’t that bad ‘round here. Better than the Green Park Estate.”

  “Anythin’s better than the Green Park Estate,” came Ahmed’s surly response. Then he remembered that the Estate was now just rubble, “but I wish it was still there…along with our people inside.”

  Ahmed was pleased to see Mamba grimacing slightly at his words. Perhaps there was a heart there after all.

  “Anyway, what do ya want with Sully?” Ahmed asked. “That fucker ain’t gonna wanna listen to yer bullshit no more. More likely to chop yer cock off for messin’ with one of his girls.”

  Ahmed was pleased to see Mamba grimace for a second time. It brought a small smile to his face as he tried to figure out what else he could throw at him.

  Mamba ignored the jibe, knowing that Ahmed was right for once.

  “We need to be real careful now,” Mamba cautioned. “There could be lookouts from Heathrow ‘round here so we need ta split up. Ya know where the Kingsland Shoppin’ Centre is?”

  “No. Why we goin’ there? Sully’s place is straight up the road.”

  Mamba looked skywards.

  “Give me fuckin’ strength,” he muttered to the sky before looking back at Ahmed. “Jus’ do as yer fuckin’ tol’. When ya get to Dalston Junction, turn left and it’s about a hundred metres up there, OK?”

  “OK, but why we goin’ shoppin’?”

  “We’re not goin’ fuckin’ shoppin’,” Mamba replied, starting to get exasperated with Ahmed’s questions. “Jus’ fuckin’ meet me near the Sainbury’s supermarket.”

  With that, Mamba crossed the road and headed towards Dalston Junction, leaving Ahmed to his own devices. He took a left onto Kingsbury Road because he didn’t fancy going anywhere near the junction; that was just the place he expected spotters to be. He turned into the smaller Kingsbury Terrace before entering the even smaller Bunter Close. Those ‘London A to Z’ books were fuckin’ brilliant and he’d studied it long and hard earlier. There was a bit of green community space to his left and he could see several zombie kids stuck in a playground area. There were a couple of pushchairs sitting outside the gate and a dog tied to the railings. That was the fuckin’ problem with parents these days, they just took no responsibility for their kids or animals. Mamba laughed to himself and carried on. He quite fancied the idea of trying out his new knives, but he wanted to get to the shopping centre as quickly as possible. He took out one of the blades and stabbed a nearby zombie in the head to relieve some of his pent-up energy. Then he reconsidered and backtracked towards the playground.

  The dog cowered and whined as he approached. It was a rottweiler or something like it. Poor bastard. It looked like he’d lost a few pounds judging by the ribs protruding from its side and Mamba felt sorry for the animal. As he got closer, the dog backed up until it was pulling tightly against its lead, and when it could go no further, a low growl came from its mouth and it bared a frightening set of teeth. Mamba was impressed that the dog still had some fight left in it. He circled around it, making sure he didn’t get too close, then quickly slashed the lead. The dog hobbled away for about ten metres then turned to look back at Mamba. Mamba was entranced, watching the dog’s jerky movements, wondering where it was going to go and what it was going to do now.

  Mamba was still watching when something grabbed his leg and he nearly shat himself. He whipped around bringing his knife up ready to strike and found himself staring down at one of the zombie kids, it’s arm poking between the railings reaching for him, looking just like that film character, Chucky, the hateful eyes staring up at him with a mad glaze. Mamba didn’t hesitate and brought his knife down on the top of the kid’s head. He hated fuckin’ kids. Ankle-biters. Literally in this case, if it’d had the chance.

  Mamba looked quickly at the other kids and saw they were heading in his direction. He took a step back thinking ‘what the fuck’? He was supposed to be immune, wasn’t he?

  The next thing he knew, the dog started barking and moved quickly in Mamba’s direction. Mamba was momentarily confused and when the dog suddenly sprang through the air, he instinctively ducked.

  The dog hit a zombie full force and knocked it to the ground, its teeth clamped onto the zombie’s arm. Mamba was now fully alert and had knives in both hands. He leapt over the dog, landing on the zombie’s chest and plunged one of his knives into the creature’s forehead. Mamba’s head whipped around in all directions and took in several zombies heading in his direction, with more looking around to see what all the noise was about. Thankfully, the nearest zombies were a few metres away, so Mamba had the chance to look around a bit more and make sure there was nothing behind him. The dog had let go of the dead zombie and was now standing between Mamba and the other zombies, lips drawn back to show off its teeth, alternating between barking and snarling in warning.

  More and more zombies were heading in their direction, attracted by the dog’s noises. Mamba wanted it to shut the fuck up, but there was more chance of the Pope being protestant. He briefly considered killing the dog, but it’d saved him from the zombie creeping up behind him and he felt that he owed it something.

  Mamba turned and ran a couple of paces before hurdling the waist high fence surrounding the small playground. He then whirled around and stabbed a small kid of four or five in the face then headed for the others, the knives just a blur of motion as he went. There were only eight kids and Mamba dealt with them with ease and not a flicker of emotion, before turning back towards the dog.

  The dog had backed up as the zombies approached, still snarling and barking. Mamba shouted ‘here’ and was surprised when the dog whirled around and jumped the fence to join him in the playground.

  Mamba wondered how the fuck all this had happened and then he finally realised that there was a light rain falling down. He had been in his own little world and hadn’t noticed.

  The zombies were getting closer, about fifteen or twenty of them with more coming, although it was difficult to be accurate as they wouldn’t fuckin’ stand still while he tried to count.

  Mamba quickly looked around the playground; it wasn’t very large, and he didn’t think the fence was high enough to stop the horde that was beginning to develop. There was no exit on the other side, so he was effectively hemmed in and the only way out was the way he had come in…past the zombies heading in his direction.

  The first zombie walked into the fence without stopping and toppled right over it onto its head. Mamba took a couple of paces forwards, crouched and stabbed it in the head. He then stood back up and met the next zombie with a straight thrust as it neared the fence. The trouble was that he wouldn’t be able to keep doing this because there were too many and the fuckin’ dog yapping was just attracting even more.

  Mamba spun on his heels and grabbed the nearest kid off the floor and jogged towards a wooden climbing frame which had some sort of rope bridge to another area and a section with a couple of small swings and a slide. He quickly took the steps up to a small ‘lookout’ area, smacking his head on the low frame as he entered. At least this part had a roof, so he was out of the rain.

  Mamba quickly sliced the kid and started smearing blood and guts all over himself. He looked over the sid
e and saw that a couple of zombies were already in the playground, slowly getting to their feet after their fall. He saw the dog backing away from them and quickly called ‘here dog’ and was surprised for the second time when the dog wheeled in his direction and ran towards him, rattling up the stairs then turning to look back in the direction it had just come from.

  Mamba reached out to pat the dog, but it looked his way and growled. Mamba took his hand back quickly thinking that they weren’t quite mates after all.

  Mamba shushed the dog and it fell relatively quiet, although it kept up a low warning growl. Mamba took off his rucksack and rummaged through it until he found the food he was looking for. He unwrapped the packaging and dumped the contents on the floor next to the dog. The dog looked at the food then back at the approaching zombies, but the food won out and the dog started wolfing it down. At least it kept him quiet for a minute.

  Mamba moved to the lookout’s entrance and waited as the first zombie walked into the steps and fell forward. The zombie started trying to crawl up the steps and Mamba watched as it struggled to find purchase. He held out his bloodied hand and watched as the zombie seemed to sniff the air before losing interest and rolling back down to the ground.

  Mamba quickly retracted his hand, knowing that he was immune once again provided he stayed out of the rain. He planted his hand in the blood and guts of the dead kid just to make sure the rain hadn’t washed too much off, then knelt next to the entrance in case some of the other zombies were more inquisitive. He saw that only four had managed to get into the playground and the others on the other side of the fence were fast losing interest and starting to wonder off.

  The dog had finished eating and its snout appeared next to Mamba’s arm. Mamba quickly put his hand on the dog’s snout and made low ‘shushing’ sounds. Thankfully the dog didn’t react to Mamba’s hand and sat there watching the zombies mulling around below.

  Mamba relaxed a little, found some more food for the dog to eat and waited patiently for the rain to stop.

  8

  Day 16 – 13:00