‘I honestly have no other plans and the whole world is strange to me at the best of times.’ I assured her.
She placed her hand on my shoulder. ‘Thanks, but it’s something I want to do now.’ She jumped off the counter and I followed suit.
‘Any supplies you need? I’ve got food, water, batteries…?’
‘With only two to three days left I’m sure I can forgo food but thanks.’ She looked at me. ‘I do have one favour to ask though?’
‘Of course, anything.’
Sue looked down at Janes body. ‘Can you help me put Janes body in the back of the Beemer?’ I looked at her but didn’t say anything. ‘I’m not going loopy don’t worry, as I said earlier, Jane and I grew up together. Her gran is buried in the same graveyard as my dad, I’d like to take her home as it were.’ She had tears in her eyes now, almost had me welling up. It seemed good to me, a bit like burying Zack.
I smiled at her. ‘You’re someone that everybody should have as a friend. I didn’t know Jane, but I think she would love this idea. I know I would.’
She went out to the Beemer and opened the boot again, clearing some of the shite and accumulated stuff out of the way to make room for Jane. I wrestled the jacket off the zombie and used it to clean and wrap Janes head to cover and contain the mess of skull and brains. I stood up and saw Sue coming back in, had she been over to the 90? It looked like she had, maybe it was just me. She came in and without any words we both bent down and picked up Janes body now partially wrapped in a Stone Island bomber jacket turban. I had the shoulders and Sue the legs, we gently lifted her body into the large boot and Sue used Janes sleeping bag to cover her. She shut the boot and walked around to the open drivers’ door. I walked around to the open passenger door and shut it before continuing around to her driver’s door.
‘I can still take you; I keep telling you that I have no plans.’ Almost pleading with her for some reason I couldn’t put my finger on.
‘Thanks, but its personal and you wouldn’t want help with your kill list, would you?’
I chuckled at that. ‘I suppose not.’ She grabbed me by both shoulders, pulled me down towards her as she stood on tip toes and kissed me on the lips. I was surprised to say the least.
‘Don’t look surprised! You’re a great guy! I’ve only known you for less than an hour and I feel I could trust you with my life, but I’m not willing to put yours at any risk. Good luck Brian.’ With that she sat in the car, shut the door and turned the key in a blur. She selected first gear, smiled through crying eyes and nodded as she drove out of the car park.
I stood there for a few moments as I watched her drive off down the hill. As she reached the roundabout and turned left towards the M5 and Stroud she flashed the warning lights and then the hidden blue strobes a few times and then was gone.
Chapter 9
I was gutted to say the least. Not only that but that kiss, as innocent as it probably was from her side, certainly sent a few signals to my wedding veg! It had been a while since the ex, and I split and then the world ending…. Let’s just say that getting my end away had been the last thing on my mind of late.
To save having to sit driving with a husband bulge going on I decided that now was the best time to organise the back of the 90 and all my newly acquired items. Firstly, I made a special place for the leisure batteries in such a way as I could still stack on them and keep the weight low and stable. I connected the 240v inverter, securing it with cable ties then did the same to the solar panels up on the roof rack. It was a temporary fix for now but would allow me to use right now if needed.
Even though I was parked up on top of the hill and atop the 90s roof rack, there wasn’t much to see in either direction. Certainly, no vehicle movements could be seen, then neither were human or zombie movements. I climbed down the rear ladder to the ground, organised the last of my collected food items, secured the tubs and cases then shut and locked the back door.
I got in behind the steering wheel and started the 2.5 litre TD5 diesel engine first turn of the key. I checked the clock on the dash. It showed it was now 2pm. I had only travelled 20 or less miles from setting off from the house. All this shopping, meeting people and chatting was going to have to stop if I was to get anywhere today.
Hitting the A38 south again I drove down the hill and came to the left turn that Sue had taken. The sign pointing left said M5 north and south, Stone house and Stroud. I ignored it and kept to the A38 forward as planned. About a mile ahead was a petrol station on the left advertising fuel, logs, coal, gas and a pressure washer. I slowed to a crawl as I passed it. I automatically checked the fuel gauge already knowing full well that my tank and jerry cans in the back were still full. Still it couldn’t hurt to look. I shouldn’t have bothered. The shop and kiosk were alive with the undead – with the lights on they could be clearly seen ambling around, browsing the aisles.
On the forecourt a battered and smashed 54-seater coach was parked like it had crashed, its broken windows smeared with blood and gore, both inside and out. That would explain why so many were here, pretty much out in the middle of nowhere. As I cleared the rear of the coach I came to an abrupt stop (as I saw what was parked alongside it). A blue Citroen Saxo Hatchback with the rear window smashed and bedding spilling messily from it. Fuck! It was Caroline and Simon’s car. They must have stopped for fuel and got caught by the bus inhabitants.
I scanned the area as well as I could but there was no sign of them, and I was fucked if I was getting out of my nice safe vehicle to look for them. Fuck ‘em! That was their fault for being so . . . My train of thought was shattered by a face at my drivers’ door window. I almost shat my pants, no word of a lie, and my body got that cold flush feeling as my heart stopped for several beats and then started like a fucking train again. It was Caroline. She didn’t attempt to open the door, but I could see her bare arms showed several bite marks.
I wound the window down (no electrics on this vehicle) but kept my door locked. She was surprisingly calm but weary, no doubt in severe shock. She spoke through the window grill in a low voice – no faffing around, she launched straight into what had happened.
‘Simon is dead. We stopped here for fuel a few hours ago and he got grabbed inside as he tried to activate the pumps. I managed to get Sarah over to that shed though.’ She pointed slightly behind me. I craned my neck and followed with my gaze to where she was pointing. It was a ram shackled brick shed across a field. Despite its state of disrepair, it looked secure.
‘Is she hurt?’ I asked.
‘No, she is fine but I’m not. I’ve got at least 3 bites on my arms and shoulder.’ Her right hand was dripping red. The shoulder wound much be leaking severely. ‘I got her to the shed across the field but the lane leading to it is full of those things. I was planning to hide her then draw them away so that she could escape.’
‘Is the door lockable?’ I asked.
‘She’s thrown the bolt on the inside of the door. It’s old but should hold. She has a bottle of water and a few chocolate bars to keep her going.’ She was crying now, and I mean Niagara Falls flowing from her eyes. ‘I was hoping I could lead them away from her location and the rest would get bored within the day. She can last until the coast is clear or I come back with help.’ She smiled this time. ‘I never thought in a million years I’d bump into you again!’
‘Since you left this morning, I’ve already thought to myself that I wouldn’t see the end of the day a few times!’
She gave me a puzzled look at hearing that and I laughed.
‘A long story for a long first day out in the open!’ I looked at her seriously this time. ‘Caroline, are you absolutely positive that Sarah hasn’t been bitten?’ She just nodded. I looked over to the lane that led to the shed. It was high-hedged and twisted. I could see the shed and the start of the lane but nothing in between. I continued. ‘And you realise this is a two-seater?’ She nodded again and again the silent waterfall of tears cascaded down her face. ‘When we ge
t there, you will have to stay . . . or run. I just don’t have room for three of us I’m afraid.’
Her sobs became noisy as she tried to speak without choking up. ‘I told her I’d be back for her. I don’t want her last memories to be of me abandoning her to these monsters. I want her to know I was true to my word and I did manage to get help for her.’
What else could I say? ‘Okay, get in.’ I leaned over and unlocked the passenger door as she ran around the front of the 90 to the door. Caroline got in, I threw her a rag I had lying around and she wrapped her bleeding arm in it to staunch the flow, closed and locked the door then put her belt on. Fair play she knew what I’d have to do.
I selected first gear and pulled away, turning right towards the small lane. As I entered the lane and turned the corner, I could see the shed a few meters off the lane, about two hundred meters ahead. Unfortunately, 150 meters ahead was hedged to hedge shambling death and decay.
I floored the accelerator to go as fast as I could. Let’s be fair, the 90 weighed over two tons easily (as fully laden as it was) and in the 150 or so yards it only reached around 30 mph. Fuck it! Slab front, winch bumper and oversize mud terrain tyres should do the job. Three (in one go) hit the front of the 90 in a tidal wave of gore and heads, stomachs and general mess sloshed over the bonnet. With my foot almost flat to the floor I instinctively reached forward for the bulkhead vents on the dash to stop the festering, putrefied smell of rotting flesh kicking the shit out of my nostrils.
Trying to keep the 90 on track, I stole a look across at Caroline. She had her feet firmly planted and at shoulder width apart, with one hand on the dash rail supporting herself from the jarring impact of rotting bodies on bumper and under wheel, with the other hand clamped over her nose and mouth. We were mid-way through the crowd of death and I kind of regretted not fitting the Ben Hur style wheel scythes. The Landover 90 2.5 TD5 was over 6 feet tall, as boxy as a very boxy thing but deceptively it wasn’t as large as it looked. The lane, although narrow, afforded some room for the zombies either side to escape the 90’s death drive. Still, the sickening thumps, slaps, knocks and bumps came, and the wheels and suspension did their work as they bucked, crushed and smashed their way over the ones that fell, heads popping like a bored parcel packer with a sheet of bubble wrap. I had to throw quite a tight ‘S’ turn to hit the last two in my path, but I got them. A look in the rear-view mirror showed seven of the dead fuckers still standing and quite an impressive verge to verge carpet of human slush, some of which was still writhing and wriggling around. Not bad as I reckon at least two thirds of the abandoned bus were crammed down here after following Caroline and Sarah down to the shed.
We had reached the gravel pull in where the shed was situated. I turned to Caroline. ‘Jump out and get her quick. Say your goodbyes etc. and I’m going to turn this thing around to get out of here.’ She nodded, didn’t reply just opened the door, jumped out, shut the door and ran to the shed door. I saw her shouting and banging on the door, it opening and her slipping inside. The door shut behind her and I hoped to hell that she was going to be quick so we could be back on our way ASAP.
With the narrow width of the lane, narrow gravel pull in area in front of the shed and the 90’s larger than normal turning circle due to its larger tyres I just about managed to turn around with a three-point turn and a slight shuffle. Now that I was pointing back the way we had come I pulled up on the little gravel pull in. Gravel crunched under tyre as the wheels came to a halt. I stopped my myself from turning the engine off, I wasn’t too sure if in all the bumping, banging, clutching of dead hands or just sheer bad luck if something had broken, disconnected or failed on the 90s engine and I certainly didn’t want to find out now down this lane.
I picked out the crowbar I had tucked in my door pocket. The nearest surviving zombie was just twenty yards away with the others forty or so. I got out and shut the door slowly, gave my shoulders and head a shake to loosen them up a bit and calmly walked towards the nearest one and did a quick step to the right as she came at me with her lips pulled back over her blood-stained teeth. I swiped left with the crowbar and gave her the good news to the side of the head. She dropped to the ground mid gnash.
Turning back to the 90 I surveyed the front of it. It looked like it had been driven through an abattoir of rotting carcasses. The light lenses were blood covered but looked unbroken behind their metal guards. The bumper looked undamaged, but the leading edge of the soft aluminium bonnet and wings looked like it had been attacked by a flock of human woodpeckers. The plastic radiator guard was cracked and flapping badly. Using the slim end of the crowbar I started picking and flicking chunks of flesh off the grill to look at the radiator and intercooler behind it.
I couldn’t see any dents or holes in either of them, but both were choker block in gore. I needed to clean them both ASAP before it caused an overheating problem.
Two more zombies had broken loose from the pack and were now only ten yards from me. Again, both older women. Was I somehow giving off the vibe that I was attracted to fifty plus zombies? Mavis, in a mauve – or was it purple – button up cardigan and green slacks got a double handed side swipe to the left side of her head making her top set of dentures fly off into the hedge, if she wasn’t dead now at least she could only give a nasty suck. June, dressed in a leopard print frilly shawl and a shit load of costume jewellery got the slim end through her forehead. As June hit the floor it turned out she was not a natural brunette…. Or even owner of a full head of natural hair as her wig came off with the crowbar.
Caroline and Sarah emerged from the shed thank fuck. A small rucksack on her shoulder and a full two litre bottle of water in her hand. I held out my hand. ‘May I have that please?’ I asked as Caroline opened the passenger door for Sarah. She passed it without even looking at me and carried on talking to Sarah. Whipping out my Gerber multi tool and using the small screwdriver bit to poke a hole in the lid of the plastic bottle I then forced the top and neck of the bottle through the broken plastic grill and squeezed hard whilst moving it in a left to right motion. The water under what pressure I could muster in my two hands did its work on the blocked cooling fins and before long I had a warm, stinking human soup pouring out of the steering guard below. I did a little left to right foot jig kinda dance to avoid it all going over my feet and trousers. Zombie stench was bad enough at the best of times but warmed up by a hot diesel engine I really thought I was going to gag it was that bad.
The two-litre bottle had done its job for now at least. I was loathed to wastewater, but I needed to do it to keep us mobile. Moans not far from behind me bought me back to the situation in hand again. Sarah was belted in, rucksack on her lap, tears in her eyes and Caroline was just shutting the door.
Caroline looked past me at the few left shuffling towards us. ‘Thank you so much, please take care of her.’ I nodded. I didn’t know what to say. Still looking past me she said. ‘Please go now.’ She turned again to Sarah. ‘I love you Sarah!’
I opened my door, I was going to ask where she was going to go but she had already turned and was mounting the stile, heading back into the field. Caroline didn’t look back and Sarah didn’t look after her just straight ahead. ‘Hold on tight!’ I told Sarah. ‘It’s going to get a tad bumpy in a minute.’
Driving forward out of the pull in I passed two zombies by my driver’s side door. There was no need to knock anymore of them down if I didn’t have to, I’d done what I needed to, now I just wanted out of here. As we mounted the first mangled body on the zombie slush puddle an upright and shambling bloke this time was clipped by the front wing and proceeded to rebound back from the springy hedge. He was knocked back into the passenger door and his face was slammed so hard into the window grill that part of his face was segmented like a bar of dairy milk chocolate without the glass and a half of milk. That was until his right leg was caught by the tread of the big rear mud terrain tyre and pulled underneath the 90 to be squashed, smashed and rollered like the rest of t
he crowd. We navigated the rest of the puddle popping and crushing the skulls and bloated stomachs of the ones I missed on my first run then out onto the road again.
Looking across at the petrol station its new inhabitants must have realised that something was going on as they were all crushed against the big window opposite the lane. The previous cleaner must have used some damn tasty windowlene as they were all trying to get a taste of the glass. Sarah, already sobbing her heart out after her mum had to leave her, suddenly let out an almighty howl of emotion. I didn’t blame the poor kid; I saw him too. Her dad Simon was at the front of the crowd blankly looking at us.
Chapter 10
Sarah was sat with her feet on the chair, knees bought up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. With the hood of her hoodie up and face buried in her knees I couldn’t see her face, only hear her sobs and muffled cries.
Poor little cow had lost her entire family in the last two days. I didn’t know what to say to her. Apart from being sorry for what she has had to go through I had no words of comfort. I’ve never had to deal with kids before and everything happening of late was a president itself. The last thing I wanted to do was to piss her off on top of all her upset by coming out with something that I mean well with only for it to be as insensitive as shit. Besides, she had only been in the vehicle for five or six minutes, I was sure there is a rule somewhere that I must give her longer than that before subjecting her to my shit but well-meaning conversations.
Looking back at the road we passed a car sales garage at the top of a hill. It looked like the office had been broken into and car keys scattered on the forecourt. Looters looking for a better vehicle perhaps. The car hand wash next to it had no cars to clean but two flailing zombies on the floor entangled in power washer/hosepipe soaking wet. They still had water pressure around this area then.
The Reanimated Dead (Book 1): Into the Cotswolds Page 7