Z-Series | Book 6 | Z-Endgame

by Hatchett

“Who the fuck cares?” Ahmed responded. “Not enough.”

  “I reckon we’ve taken out thousands.”

  “Whoopee! Only a few billion ta go then. Anyway, it ain’t the fuckin’ zombies I’m worried ‘bout.”

  “What do ya mean?”

  “It’s the fuckin’ survivors, man. Turnin’ inta monsters ‘emselves. Dunno what the fuck they gonna do next.”

  “Well, we jus’ kill ‘em too. ’Cept the birds, of course! Gotta have summat ta shag.”

  “Man, ‘em bitches can be worse, know what I mean?” Ahmed said, thinking about Chrissy.

  “Ya gotta pick the right ones ‘n treat ‘em right, Ahmed, that’s bin yer problem. ‘N don’t take no shit. If they need a slap ta keep ‘em in line, then they need a slap. It’s fer their own good.”

  “Yer a real romantic, bro.”

  “I know, right?”

  Ahmed laughed and shook his head.

  “So, ya definitely finished wiv Ayla?” Ahmed asked casually, but from left field. He’d been thinking about her ever since they’d left the farm and the fiasco with Chrissy.

  “Where the fuck did that come from, bro?”

  Mamba waited but Ahmed didn’t say anything further.

  “I knew ya liked her man,” Mamba said after a while, “but not like that.”

  There was another pause as Mamba thought about it and waited to see if Ahmed was going to say anything else.

  “Ya can have her if ya really want. I don’t mind, I’ve had enough of her. I wanted ta kill the bitch, but if ya want her, I’ll give her a pass.”

  “Ya mean it?” Ahmed asked cautiously.

  “’Course, Bro…I know ya like sloppy seconds.”

  “Fuck ya!” Ahmed retorted, and they both laughed.

  “Anyway, she’s switched sides and prob’ly swallowin’ some Heathrow cock by now.”

  Ahmed stopped laughing and closed his eyes as if in pain. Mamba had a knack of giving with one hand and taking away with the other.

  Ten minutes of excruciating silence later, they passed a sign indicating the A3102 to Swindon was coming up at the next junction.

  “Ya sure we should go ta Swindon or jus’ keep goin’?” Ahmed asked. “We could be at Heathrow in a coupla hours at this rate ‘n the Heathrow lot’ll still be searchin’ fer us in Corsham.”

  “Ya jus’ worried that someone’s givin’ Ayla one, ain’t ya?” Mamba said. “I can read ya like a fuckin’ book, man.”

  It was true. All through the silence, all Ahmed could think about was Ayla and the fact that she might have found someone else in Heathrow by now. Then his imagination had run wild, thinking over what Mamba had said and believing that it might well be true. It had been bad enough when Mamba kept taking her off somewhere quiet for a bit of hide the sausage, but thinking that someone else might be doing the same thing…well, it was enough to make him feel sick.

  “Nah, man,” Ahmed denied it. “Jus’ thought we could tear the place apart when they ain’t there ta fight back.”

  “Bullshit! They ain’t gonna take all the soldiers ta Corsham. Ya can bet they’ve left plenty behind jus’ in case. ‘N anyway, what’s ta stop one of ‘em ‘copters comin’ along this road ‘n blowin’ us ta shit? They can’t exactly miss us, We the only fuckers movin’ on this road in a great big truck. Nah, man, we need ta lay low fer a while n’ I’ve got some skirt ta sort out in the back ta fill the time...make that a lot of skirt ta sort out. Not that yer’ll want any, ya be savin’ yerself fer the Duracell Bunny.”

  “Ah man, do ya have ta? Her name’s Ayla.”

  “Yeah, Duracell Bunny. Jus’ can’t get enough ‘n keeps goin’ ‘n goin’, know what I mean?”

  “Jus’ ‘cos ya missed out on Cobra ‘n the Princess, there ain’t no need ta be a prick ‘bout it.”

  Mamba was silent for a few seconds and Ahmed knew he’d hit the nail on the head.

  “We goin’ ta Swindon,” Mamba said with finality and took the left hand turning towards the town.

  20

  Day 25 – 15:30

  Chippenham

  Issy had ordered her Chinook to land in a field with Pewsham Way bordering on the East side and Avenue La Fleche to the North.

  As she and her team reached the Northern boundary, they stopped and surveyed the road in front of them. There were cars all over the place and zombies wandering around between them.

  “Any ideas where we should start looking?” Jack asked.

  Issy turned to look at him, smiled and patted her pocket.

  Jack stared back with a frown, wondering what she meant.

  Issy pulled out a book and handed it over. Jack turned it over and looked at the title.

  “Good Beer Guide?” he asked, surprised.

  “Yep. Never leave home without it. It’s the concise version. The proper one is too big and weighs a ton. Mamba always gravitates to pubs whenever he can, or to hotels. That book tells us where all the pubs are around here.”

  “Clever,” Jack acknowledged.

  “Know your enemy,” Issy replied.

  Jack returned the book and Issy slipped it back into her pocket.

  “Let’s go,” she ordered and one by one, she and her men slipped over the gate and merged onto the road and turned right.

  Issy could see a roundabout fifty metres away. When they got there, they veered left and a hundred and fifty metres later she took another left into The Causeway. According to the map she had studied earlier, this road should take them up to the High Street and towards the centre of town.

  There were several pubs and hotels along the route, so she clicked her earpiece and told her men to spread out and take things nice and slow. She thought of the other two teams led by Bear and Irish who, like her, would be moving in towards the centre and checking the pubs and hotels along the way. They had agreed to meet up near the bridge where the High Street met the river. They had also agreed to remove the silencers on their MP5’s in case one of the teams encountered Mamba and his men. The shots would be heard all over and let the other teams know that contact had been made.

  Issy shook her head, her focus returning to the job in hand. The first pub was coming up and she needed to concentrate.

  21

  Day 25 – 16:00

  Swindon

  As they drove along the first hundred metres on the two-lane A3102 towards Swindon, Mamba was looking on either side of the road and spotted what looked like large warehouses to their right.

  “Watch where ya goin’!” Ahmed shouted and Mamba quickly looked back to the road and corrected the truck’s direction, barely missing a row of stationery cars and vans.

  “Keep yer hair on, Ahmed. There ain’t any penalty points fer reckless drivin’ anymore, ya know?”

  “Yeah, but I’d rather stay alive a bit longer.”

  Mamba laughed.

  “Fuck me, Ahmed. We’re indestructible in this fucker. It’s like a tank. Talkin’ of which, we should try ‘n find a tank or two. It’ll help when we attack Heathrow. Be even betta if we found a few tanks.”

  “Oh yeah, ya ever driven a tank?”

  “Nah man, but it can’t be that difficult. I’ve never driven one of these ‘til now.”

  “Ya can tell,” Ahmed replied.

  “What ya talkin’ ‘bout? Nothin’ wrong wiv me drivin’.”

  “Tell that ta the crushed cars ‘n vans behind us.”

  “They were in the fuckin’ way. What was I s’posed ta do? Waste time gettin’ out ‘n movin’ ‘em first? Stop bein’ a dickhead.”

  When they came up to the roundabout, Mamba turned right into the trading estate, smashing cars out of the way in the process.

  “Now where we fuckin’ goin’? Ahmed said with a sigh. “Thought we was goin’ ta Swindon.”

  “Need ta lie low fer a day or so in case we bein’ followed. Got a few things that need ta be sorted too.”

  Mamba swung the truck into the trading estate and took the first available right-hand turn to head ba
ck in the direction of the warehouses he had seen.

  They came upon a row of huge warehouses with several articulated trucks parked in bays outside them and Mamba turned his truck towards them. He swung the truck around, braked, then put it in reverse.

  “This should be fun,” Ahmed said sarcastically, as a loud beeping noise came from the rear of the truck.

  Basir and Dev had been following a little too closely, so Mamba had to wait for them to get out of his way before he could start reversing.

  There weren’t too many zombies in the area. Those that were around looked like they had been large men, all in overalls of various designs and some with hard hats still sitting on their heads. All were attracted by the beeping from the truck so Basir and Dev made sure they parked the cars a decent distance away.

  Mamba let out the clutch and started reversing, but the trailer didn’t go exactly where he had planned. He had to move forward again with Ahmed laughing in his ear.

  “Tol’ ya. Shit driver.”

  “Shut the fuck up Ahmed or I’ll send ya ta play wiv the zombies.”

  “Prob’ly safer,” Ahmed retorted with another laugh.

  It took Mamba three attempts before he managed to get the trailer lined up perfectly in the bay.

  “Third time lucky,” Ahmed said scornfully, clapping his hands.

  “Shut the fuck up!”

  Mamba watched the zombies bump up against the truck as he turned off the engine and silenced the bloody beeping. By now, there were far more, and they were too close to the truck to get out without a lot of risk, so he sat waiting to see if they would disperse of their own accord. Then he heard some banging on the sides of the trailer and shook his head in disbelief.

  “Fuckin’ idiots!”

  He grabbed the walkie talkie.

  “Basir, ya, Dev ‘n the men wiv ya need ta close the gate ‘n start clearin’ the area.”

  Mamba set aside the walkie talkie and got out a cigarette and lit up. He didn’t bother offering one to Ahmed, who chuckled at the slight.

  Mamba and Ahmed watched as the men slowly got out of the cars with their knives ready and silently approached the zombies from behind. The banging on the trailer continued, and it now helped Basir and his men as they started taking out the zombies without attracting too much attention. Once there was sufficient space around the cab, Mamba and Ahmed withdrew their knives and jumped down to join in the fun.

  Once the area was littered with bodies, Mamba climbed up onto the loading bay and opened the rear of the trailer. The rest of his men piled out, some looking a little pale with a couple running a few yards to throw up over the side of another empty bay.

  “Tol’ ya it was shit drivin’,” Ahmed muttered.

  Mamba stared at him until Ahmed turned away.

  Once they had seen their surroundings, the men looked a little surprised.

  “Where are we?” a guy called Koray asked, exactly what the rest had been thinking.

  “Near Swindon,” Mamba replied. “This is our new home fer a day or two,” he added, pointing at the warehouse, “’n ya need ta get it cleared.”

  “Where’s the pub?” someone else called out, raising a few laughs.

  Mamba grinned.

  “Later. Get this place clear, get our gear inside ‘n get rid of the bodies. I don’t want any markers showin’ where we’re at.”

  “What about the women?” another asked.

  “We’ll sort ‘em later,” Mamba replied. “Now get ta it.”

  Basir started organising the men into teams and delegating which team would take which section of the warehouse. Once he had finished, they all moved off without question.

  22

  Day 25 – 16:30

  Chippenham

  Issy stood in the centre of the High Street with Jack, her team spread out in a rough circle covering all directions.

  They had entered eight pubs, two hotels and two Bed and Breakfast places, all a waste of time. There had been no sign of Mamba or his men at all, and the only good thing to come out of it was the reduction in zombie head count.

  “Do you think he’s changed his M.O?” Jack asked, as they looked around.

  “Does a leopard change its spots?” Issy asked rhetorically. “No, I just get the feeling he was in a rush to get away, so he didn’t hang around. He must know we’re trying to track him down and he’s putting as much distance as he can between us.”

  “Is it worth checking any more places while we’re waiting?” Jack asked.

  “No, I think we’ll be wasting our time. The heli’s haven’t seen anything either, so God knows how a group that large managed to get away without making it obvious, especially as his trip getting here was more like an advert for a demolition derby.”

  “He’s bought himself some time and now doesn’t want to leave another trail,” Jack agreed.

  “Trouble is, he could still be right here, cooped up in some building, watching us right now,” Issy said, with frustration creeping into her voice. “We don’t have time to search the whole place.”

  Jack automatically started scanning all the nearby buildings, hoping to catch movement or a reflection of something.

  “If he is here and was watching, I’m sure he would have picked us all off by now,” Issy said, seeing what Jack was doing, “or at least tried.”

  “Comforting,” Jack commented drily. “So, what now?”

  “Now, I guess we go home and prepare for him to come to us.”

  As she spoke, Bear and his team appeared on the far side of the bridge and headed towards them.

  They’d wait for Irish to catch up then move out.

  Irish arrived ten minutes later with his men and a small group of seven bedraggled people who he’d said he found sheltering in one of the pubs they had searched. That was why they’d taken longer than Issy and Bear in getting to the agreed meeting point.

  He told them that he and his men had almost knifed the survivors, thinking they were zombies, until one of the females had screamed. The survivors were dehydrated, tired, hungry, and scared. Some of them were delirious and hallucinating, so it had taken some persuading before they were willing to follow Irish and his men. He’d finally succeeded when he pointed out that they were sure to die and turn if they stayed where they were.

  Getting back to the point, Irish had nothing useful to report and confirmed that there had been no sightings or indication that Mamba and his men might still be in the vicinity.

  Issy decided to call it a day and all three teams headed back to the Chinooks, thoroughly deflated by their inability to find their quarry.

  The Apache’s landed and topped up with fuel, then once loaded, all five helicopters took off and headed back towards Heathrow.

  It was only a mile or so past Reading before the pilots witnessed plumes of dark smoke rising into the sky some distance ahead of them. The pilots quickly called the Leaders up to the flight decks to see for themselves, but at this stage it was more out of curiosity than concern.

  However, as they got closer to Heathrow, concern mounted and Issy felt a small ball of dread in the pit of her stomach. She glanced at Jack and saw that he was equally concerned, worry lines all over his face.

  “Can we go any faster?” Issy asked, but the pilot shook his head.

  “Not with a full complement,” he replied.

  “Send the Apache’s ahead to scout,” Issy ordered and the message was relayed.

  The Apache’s suddenly darted forwards, appearing to diminish in size as they flew further and further ahead of the three Chinooks.

  A few minutes later, the pilot of the first Apache radioed through and the Chinook pilot put it on speaker.

  “This is Apache One,” he started. “Heathrow is on fire…there appears to be damage everywhere…there are figures all over the place…and most appear to be zombies inside the perimeter. What should we do?”

  “This is Apache Two,” came a second voice over the airwaves. “I can confirm the report. T
he perimeter has been breached. I say again, the perimeter had been breached.”

  Issy and Jack looked at each other with surprise and horror. They could both see that they were thinking the same things. What was going on? How did it happen? Were the other Leaders safe? Who had done this? Mamba couldn’t have got there this quickly. They had only been gone since early morning, not even a whole day. It didn’t make any sense.

  Issy snapped out of her reverie first and turned to look forwards.

  “Both Apache’s stay outside the perimeter, observe and keep reporting back. “We’ll be there in a few minutes then you can guide us in. Then stay in the air and provide cover. Try and contact those on the ground. Bear, Irish, are you listening?”

  “Here,” Bear grunted, clearly pissed off.

  “Here,” Irish confirmed.

  “Get your men ready for a ground assault. We don’t know what we’re up against, but we need to move quickly and try and secure the area and save as many people as we can.”

  A few ‘Rogers’ came back over the airwaves.

  Issy turned and headed back into the rear of the aircraft to prepare her own team. Within seconds, everyone was refreshing the blood and guts on their clothing and making sure their magazines were full and they had plenty of spares. They checked their MP5’s and knives, getting ready to swarm the airport.

  Issy broke them up into smaller teams, giving each a target location, knowing that Bear and Irish would be doing the same. In their rush they would probably duplicate targets, but that couldn’t be helped.

  Jack watched as Heathrow came into view and momentarily closed his eyes as he saw the level of destruction This couldn’t be Mamba…he was miles away, so it must be someone else…but who? He gave up trying to find answers to impossible questions and focused on the damage. Once he’d seen enough, he went back to Issy into the hold to prepare.

  23

  Day 25 – 16:45

  Swindon

  Mamba’s men had cleared the warehouse without incident, unloaded the truck and dragged all the dead bodies to the rear of the property and hidden them in a copse of trees bordering the main road.