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The Reanimated Dead (Book 1): Into the Cotswolds

Page 15

by Wakefield, Trevor


  Suzuki guy John chipped in. ‘And you certainly earned yours today chap taking out the HRV!’

  I thanked him as Kev’s radio burst into life. He listened, responded, then addressed our little group.

  ‘We’ve got approximately forty, maybe more, TRADs heading our way from the pedestrian area. Jerry and Damien have managed to lure many more off towards the other end of town, but the breakaways will be with us in a few minutes from that direction.’ He pointed over to where the pedestrian area crossed the road to the supermarket. I never realised the bike guys were out here too. Fair play Bryan and Kev had put a ton of thought and planning into this operation. He continued. ‘It might be forty or so but don’t panic. Let them come close, pick and mark your targets and please don’t miss. Simples!’ He looked at me and Suzuki guy. ‘Brian and John.’ We both looked at him. ‘Me and the other guys can take them, you are lighter armed so just cover our backs please.’

  Three more shots and what sounded like shelves falling down came from inside, Kev’s walkie squawked, he gave it a one-word answer and clipped it back on his belt. Whatever happened can’t have been serious and he joined the guys to face the hoard.

  Suzuki guy joined me at my 90 as we spotted four shuffling piles of decomposition coming down the zig-zag path from the recreational field and one from the back of the car park. Even though we were back further than the other guys, the shifting wind bought us a two-minute warning smell of the advancing forty before we could see them. As the hoard approached it looked like a scene from Zulu. Three against forty, behind a barricade, this time though the Zulus weren’t running, weren’t armed and the defenders could shoot multiple times before reloading. I Also couldn’t see Kev and the guy singing “Men of Harlech”!

  Our first one from the path arrived before theirs which Suzuki Guy took the honour of dropping, then the firing squad behind us started. Good, disciplined single shots cracked off. We couldn’t watch as our other three from the rec were upon us. As we engaged them the browsing chariot came out with its second load and set about unloading. I dropped one with the bow pretty much centre on in his head, I had the hang of this spiralling wind now. Suzuki guy took the other two.

  Suzuki guy piped up. ‘That’s only four mate. We counted five with the one from the car park.’ We both started to scour the carpark. ‘Got him!’ He piped up again whilst simultaneously raising his rifle and firing. The top of the zombies’ head came off like a boiled egg! He was of teenage years and behind a bush. His foot looked to have been caught in a drain grid.

  We both turned around to see the browsing chariot guys were almost unloaded again and the guys at the barricade were down to the last few of the crowd, still all calm and calculated. We passed the shopping guys some water, the Luton was filling up rapidly with flour, pasta, sugar, cooking oil, tins, packets, cereals, Crisps, boxes, cleaning products, toiletries Etc. etc. They were clearing this place out!

  They went back in again, but we heard no more shots from inside. Kev and his guys had dropped all the advancing crowd and was on the radio with the guys inside. I only caught some of the conversation.

  ‘Good job lads, grab a drink, give yourself five mins and then all grab trollies and then we can all get out of here that little bit earlier.’ He added. ‘I’ll send John in to help you too.’

  ‘Anything in particular over what the other guys are getting?’ Came the reply.

  ‘Christopher wants anything garden related. I told him that it would be a second to the food but if you chaps can find any grow bags, seeds, weed killer, potatoes – if they’ve gone to seed then even better, you get the idea?’ He asked.

  ‘Cool. BBQ coals any use?’ Came the voice again?

  ‘Good call. Our cut down tree piles won’t last forever.’

  ‘Ok boss, we’ll do our best.’

  Kev put the radio down and looked at me. Thirty or so minutes and we will be out of here mate. Piss up at mine later, bring Sarah, I have it on good authority we have alcopops.’ He laughed.

  He was right as only twenty-five minutes later I was helping cram the last of our mega haul into the back of the Luton. We had only had to take out another eight zombies as we waited but more were on the way according to the bike boys that they didn’t think they could lure away. It wouldn’t matter as we would be gone by the time they arrived. Kev’s pick-up was full of grow bags, the police 90 rammed full of toilet rolls and the police Volvo had its boot and back seats full of booze.

  The Luton driver had us all at the tailgate where he was giving out identical wire baskets full of powdered eggs, powdered milk, condensed milk, flour, pasta, paracetamol’s, germaline, plasters, soup packets, biscuits, shower gel etc. enough food for one person for one week at least. Not bad for a few hours work. Of course, we were all reminded to keep quiet about it and that it could be a day or so before the food on the Luton was sorted and shared out.

  As we all saddled up to leave, the bike guys rode slowly past us and we all filed out behind. The place was littered with around seventy plus dead zombies. Food, dead zombies and no injuries, that was a good day out in my book.

  At the gates were five dead zombies that must have been in the way of our return. As we entered, the police Volvo drove straight up to his camp as did the Suzuki but the Mitsubishi, police 90 and the Luton pulled over to one side. I was last in and as the gates closed behind me, I saw Christopher actually hug Kev as he was shown the back of the Luton and Mitsubishi.

  He may have been a royal pain in the arse, but his heart was definitely in the right place.

  Chapter 18

  I drove up to our pitch and parked exactly where I needed to be thanks to the sticks I had placed in the ground for this exact purpose. Sarah wasn’t around but I could see the pot for the damper bread was above the fire pit.

  It took just moments to put the tarp and hammock back up. Making sure I wasn’t being watched I started to unpack the contents of the basket out into the various tubs and boxes in the back of the 90, the basket would now become my new wood carrying basket/foot stool. I sat on the hammock and swung my legs around; my stomach and shoulders were starting to ache already where the belts held me safe earlier on.

  I wasn’t quite in the land of nod, just having a nice chill out when I heard my name shouted in a kind of shrill! I sat bolt upright – it hurt like feck -as Sarah burst under the tarp!

  ‘Are you okay?’ I was about to answer but... ‘The front of the Land Rover?!’

  ‘I know….’ I was cut off again.

  ‘What happened?’

  I managed to get in. ‘If you’d shut up and let me speak, I’ll tell you!’ I Grimaced as I shifted into a comfortable position and I could see her about to speak again, so I shot her the shut the bloody hell up look. It amazingly worked. I filled her in on everything from the crash, shot gun shells – though didn’t tell her about knowing the kids’ weapon was not loaded – basket of food and the need to keep it secret. I told her about the meeting at Kev’s and Simons area tonight.

  ‘Can I come again?’ She asked.

  ‘You’re invited don’t worry, but everything said tonight must stay between all of those there okay?’

  She gave me a puzzled look. I sighed and got off the hammock, I was in need of some pain killers anyway. I opened up the 90’s back door and showed her what had been in the basket and said. ‘The food from the haul may not be available for a few days so if anyone finds out we got any before they did then shit will hit the fan. It’s basically payment for what we have done today but even Christopher doesn’t know.’

  She mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key. ‘No one will hear a peep about it from me!’

  I had just grabbed two paracetamols from my stash and about to neck them to ease the pain in my stomach and shoulder when I saw Christopher climbing our little hill. He was puffing and carrying two carrier bags. He was smiling too which was strange. He reached the top of the rise and thrust one of the two bags at me.

  I shot Sarah
the “Shut the bloody hell up look” again that had worked earlier and Christopher a quizzical look.

  ‘Payment.’ He said with a huge genuine smile on his chubby face. I took the bag from him. ‘Can’t have you guys risking your lives and vehicles.’ He pointed at the remodelled 90s front wing. ‘Without a little extra. I thanked him and shook his sweaty hand without looking into the bag. He carried on. ‘This isn’t a secret. I believe any work carried out in defence or help of the people of this camp should be paid for, and the new currency is going to be food and goods. There will be a meeting in the sports hall at 6pm this evening. I have some proposals for the camp and I also want to tell everyone about the food. Will I see you there?’

  I said we both would be, and he left with the other bag, I imagine for the last guy to be ‘paid.’

  I looked into the bag, there were cans of soup, pineapple chunks, bag of pasta, jar of pesto, a few chocolate bars and a half litre bottle of Famous Grouse.’ I wasn’t going to turn my nose up at any food, but it looks like Christopher’s wage rate was much lower than that of Kev’s. I jokingly wondered if we should set up a union to ensure a minimum wage for four hours work with damage to personal equipment and self.

  6pm came and Sarah and I were stood to one side in the sports hall. The place stank of sweat, piss, shit and general grime. That was just from some of our fellow soap dodging campers! The toilets didn’t help, and we could do with a few windows open in here.

  There were general mumblings and rumours going around that I could pick up. All were wrong and some were quite funny. One was a rumour of tent city moving into the school and being allocated a classroom per family. Great idea but I couldn’t see Christopher giving up his family and friends palace just now to the great unwashed.

  Christopher appeared and climbed up onto a makeshift stage and the mumbling subsided into silence. Christopher looked very uncomfortable, he was a caretaker, not a teacher used to giving assemblies or public speaking. He had some notes that he was shuffling, or at least I thought he was shuffling, he was shaking like a shitting dog. He started. ‘Thank you all for coming this evening, really appreciate it.’ There were a few sniggers about not having sod all else to do or some zombie related reason why they weren’t elsewhere with booze and strippers. Christopher carried on regardless. ‘I’ve got some fantastic news for all of us and I’d also like to ask for some help from you all. The good news is that some very brave lads here left the school today and came back with a van full of food and provisions.’

  The whole crowd erupted into talking, some cheering and some with snide comments about what we would have kept for ourselves. Christopher continued undaunted. ‘It’s all being sorted currently and from tomorrow lunchtime the school canteen will be open twice per day at lunch and dinner times serving hot food to everyone. I repeat it is open to everyone!’ The majority of the people assembled clapped and cheered. As it died down a bit so he could be heard, he again continued. ‘I won’t ask those that helped today to show their hands as I don’t want to embarrass them but please know that not only did they have to fight off over seventy TRADS but also an armed gang that has given us nothing but grief since day one here and killed one of them in an exchange of fire.’ More ripples of applause. Christopher had paused and looked to be thinking. ‘These brave men have been paid for what they have done for you all today in groceries.’ He paused, anticipating the uproar from the crowd. Unhappy that others were getting more than them despite their giving nothing to the group. The next bit surprised everyone including me. ‘You can all get some too. You can. As I have already said, hot meals two times a day from tomorrow lunchtime for everyone and groceries/luxuries for those that carry out work here on site.’ Again, there was a mixed reaction from the crowd. ‘Anyone can take shelter here at the school behind our defended fences and receive two meals a day for free and as long as we have food they always will. But our facilities here need cleaning and upkeep. Cleaners for the toilets, showers and general site housekeeping, the guys that defend us need back up, there are far too few of them and for weeks have done the job unpaid and mostly unthanked. We also need people handy with DIY skills, mechanics, electrics etc to keep the place and our vehicles running. We even need gardeners. Today we got hold of many seeds, plants and compost. I have been told by Kevin and Bryan who are in charge of our security that they have plans for another two shopping trips in the next two weeks and they are going to need more volunteers to carry this out.’ He pointed. ‘There are two tables to your left. Jenny and Karen will take your name, experience, preferred job and you will be contacted in the next day or so. Should you like to volunteer then please see them on your way out.’

  He stepped off the stage and was immediately swamped by people. After a few seconds all I could see were his arms above his head waving towards the two women at the desks.

  That night around Kev’s fire all of us from the shopping trip including Sarah and the biker guys were quietly enjoying some of the rescued booze. Talks ranged from how surprised we were with Christopher’s idea of cleaning the camp up and going to the next level in turning the place into a communal home. The next place for us to shop from seemed to be the Lidl and row of shops quite close to us but also in between two no go zones. Bryan, Kev and a few other chaps were drawing up plans and as soon as satisfied it will be as safe as possible then we would be on for another trip.

  Talk also went back to the HRV gang. Kev went quiet during this period of the conversation. I was the only one who knew why so I didn’t look at him, didn’t want him to feel any worse than he probably already did. Poor sod, it was a completely reasonable response to having a gun pointed at you. The bloke must have had a death wish to knowingly point an unloaded gun at another armed guy.

  The fire started to die down and people started drifting off to their places of abode. Sarah and I thanked everyone, a few handshakes and went back to our camp. Away from the fire I felt chilly again and looked forward to my hammock and warm blanket. It may have been the copious amount of Captain Morgan’s rum that I had consumed talking to my brain or it may have been a subconscious worry of the hecklers at the meeting tonight moaning about us getting extra food/luxuries but I decided that I’d not go to bed alone tonight. I decided I’d take a shotgun pistol to bed with me for security. With the amount I had drunk tonight, sleeping with an eye open was not a viable option!

  Tucked up into bed with the pistol on my stomach and I was away, god help anyone close by trying to compete with my sleep purring!

  Chapter 19

  The morning arrived with no drama and luckily only the mildest of hangovers, which was a win as I had a job today that would have turned a hangover day into a complete nightmare. I still led in bed just a little bit longer looking at the dew dripping off the sides of the tarp due to yesterday’s injuries from the seat belt. We were in shadow from the tree so it would be a while before the sun did its evaporation job on what had gathered.

  Sarah hadn’t been sick but looked a tad off colour, wasn’t too keen on the heat and light giving star that we call the sun and had a headache like a troop of Morris dancers had started performing in her head. I’d call that the product of too many alcopops! I assured her that a good shower, walk in fresh air and something to eat would pretty much cure it so we went about our bathroom routines.

  On our return we both commented on the buzz of people already working around the camp. My showers were already much cleaner, though the toilets weren’t. Sarah said that both the showers and toilets in the female bathroom were much cleaner and perhaps the bloke’s loos were next on the list. I hoped so, as at the current rate of misuse they would be unusable for about as long as the land around Chernobyl! Suffice to say the camp was already looking, smelling and feeling better in just over twelve hours, well done Christopher I say!

  We had a light breakfast from our camping stocks today, had too much on to be cooking and cleaning first thing, so Sarah settled for beans on toast and scrambled egg on toast for me. I
t was hot and filling but that was about it, so we had a mars bar each too. A few painkillers for my stomach and shoulder bruises went down with a sweet tea, might see if I have any anti-inflammatory gel later on too.

  Time to make some noise. I gave Sarah some painkillers for her head from my packet and told her to make herself scarce until they had taken effect due to fixing the war wounds on the 90. Grabbing the tool crates from the 90 and lugging them around to the front I assessed the damage and decided to start taking the guard, bezel and light from the wing to gain access to the main damage. Using a ratchet strap and the nearest tree I tweaked the damage out of the wing by trying to pull out in the direction that the damage had gone in. Once the fairly soft aluminium had been pulled as near as possible to its previous shape, I started to go at it with slide hammer, rubber mallet and dolly. It was very noisy work and I thanked myself that I hadn’t mixed my drinks last night. I was no body work technician but with every pull, tweak and bang the wing started to resemble what it should. I couldn’t do much about the bumper without some heat. I made a note to ask Suzuki guy if I could use the oxy in the workshop in a day or so to sort it.

  A few people popped by to see what the bloody noise was and to offer advice and support. Most of it was along the lines of not bothering as it would only happen again soon. That may have been true, but I wanted my vehicle as road worthy and ready to go at any time. The plastic wheel arch was properly mullered and was an item that required a bit of thought to fix. With a red-hot screwdriver and nice cup of tea I welded most of the pieces and cracks back together quite well and refitted with lots of self-tappers and bathroom mastic. If in doubt use monkey spunk! Boy racers in the 90’s swore by it! With the light back in, light guard tweaked and re-fitted it was time to stretch my legs and try out the new lunch situation in the canteen.

 

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