Z-Series | Book 6 | Z-Endgame

by Hatchett

  Mamba smiled at a couple as he passed and was rewarded with nothing but blank stares. He quickened his pace to catch up with the kid he had originally spoken to and who was leading this little entourage.

  “Hey kid,” Mamba said as he closed the gap.

  The kid didn’t turn around but said ‘what?’ over his shoulder.

  “How did ya spot us?”

  “We were watching you for ages,” he replied matter-of-factly.

  ‘Shit’, Mamba thought to himself. He was losing his touch, or he’d become so complacent that he had overlooked the basic safety measures he’d employed since the outbreak began. A mistake that wouldn’t be happening again anytime soon. To get caught by a bunch of kids was embarrassing, but he was just thankful it hadn’t been a gang of adults.

  They approached what looked like a large furniture store and the escorts turned in and headed towards the rear.

  As Mamba looked further ahead, he saw a group of older kids sitting and chatting across a large dining table. One of the males was sitting at the head of the table gesticulating wildly as he talked. He had short, spiky, ginger hair, which was all over the place, the cut clearly self-administered using a dodgy mirror. He looked about nineteen, as the original kid had suggested, so Mamba assumed that this must be the infamous Simon. On either side of Simon were girls roughly the same age, one with long dark hair and the other with short blond hair. The rest of the table was made up of four other boys, all roughly the same age, and a few empty seats. Clearly the leadership group for all these kids.

  As Mamba got closer, Simon noticed the movement and looked up, his face going blank as he stared straight at Mamba.

  They were stopped fifteen metres from the table by more kids with weapons, while the original kid was beckoned forward to the table.

  Mamba could see Simon listening carefully before his lips started moving, but he couldn’t hear what was being said. Simon’s demeanour didn’t change during the entire discussion and his eyes never left Mamba’s, but whatever he was saying was clearly having an effect because the kid seemed to be shrinking under the weight of the words he was hearing.

  Eventually, the kid stepped away and returned to Mamba and his group.

  “Simon will speak to you,” he said, his voice almost breaking and his eyes watering. It was obvious he’d broken some rule or other.

  The guards surrounding Mamba and his group ushered them towards the table and stopped them a couple of metres away.

  No one said anything for a few seconds before Mamba broke the silence.

  “So, ya must be Simon.”

  The kid nodded.

  “And you are?” he asked.

  “I’m Mamba, yer’ve prob’ly heard of me?” he said, looking around, expecting some sort of recognition or awe.

  Simon stared blankly and no one gasped in surprise.

  “Mebbe not then,” Mamba added.

  “What do you want?”

  “Nothin’. We jus’ havin’ a look ‘round, seein’ what’s what ‘round here.”

  “OK. Well, now you’ve seen it, you can go.”

  “Wait up. I’ve got a few questions.”

  “Such as?”

  “Ain’t ya goin’ ta introduce me ta yer girls first?”

  “No.”

  “OK, fair enough. Were ya lot extras in the Mad Max film?”

  There was a confused silence.

  “I guess not,” Mamba surmised.

  “They too young fer that, ya idiot,” Ahmed whispered from behind him. “Anyone in that film gotta be at least fifty now ‘n I don’t see anyone like that ‘round here.”

  “Not the time, Ahmed, fer a sermon,” Mamba whispered back.

  “What are ya kids doin’ here?” Mamba asked.

  “We’re not kids, and we live here,” Simon replied.

  “Most of ya are kids. Where’s all yer parents?”

  “Dead.”

  “They can’t all be dead,” Mamba suggested.

  “Have you looked outside recently?”

  “I’ve jus’ bin out there, but that ain’t the point. Some of the parents must’ve survived.”

  “They did and we killed them,” Simon said, a slight smile curling the corner of his mouth for the first time. “Got fed up with being told what to do.”

  Mamba stared at him, wondering if he was telling the truth. After a few seconds, he thought that he probably was. There was something not quite right with the boy.

  “Last chance to walk away,” Simon said.

  Ahmed nudged Mamba in the back and whispered, ‘let’s go!’

  Mamba continued to stare at Simon.

  “What if we want ta stay?”

  “Then you’ll join our parents.”

  Mamba continued to stare at him then eventually nodded once.

  “Simon says ‘go’, so we’ll go,” Mamba confirmed.

  Simon nodded and they were all ushered out of the store and taken back outside to the square.

  The original kid stepped forward.

  “I warned you. You better just stay away, or Simon will kill you.”

  “Seems like a nice guy,” Mamba said.

  The kid winced a little, telling Mamba all he needed to know.

  “Please! Just go…and don’t come back,” the kid said, before turning and heading back to the shopping centre with the rest of his little troop.

  Mamba looked around his own group.

  “Well, that was interestin’,” he suggested.

  “Are ya kiddin’?” Ahmed replied. “It’s like somethin’ outta Lord of the fuckin’ flies.”

  “What?” Mamba asked, confused.

  “Book ‘bout kids on an island goin’ native,” Ahmed explained.

  “How do ya know that?” Mamba asked, surprised.

  “Dunno.”

  “Ya read it?”

  “Nah. Musta bin a quiz question.”

  “So, what happens in the book?”

  “Dunno.”

  “Yer fuckin’ useless, ya know that?”

  “Maybe we should be heading back?” Karina suggested to break up another argument.

  “Yeah, let’s go,” Mamba agreed.

  “What? Ya givin’ up so easily?” Ahmed asked, amazed.

  “Don’t be fuckin’ daft, Ahmed. But ya gotta know when ta attack ‘n when ta retreat. ‘N now ain’t the time ta attack.”

  “But they only little kids,” Ahmed pointed out.

  “I ain’t interested in the kids,” Mamba replied. “All I’m interested in is that cheeky fucker, Simon.”

  35

  Day 26 – 13:15

  Heathrow

  “Issy?” came through the walkie talkie.

  Issy was still at T3, watching all the people moving about like worker ants. She quickly grabbed her walkie talkie.

  “Here,” she replied.

  “We think we might’ve found something,” the voice said.

  “Where?”

  “Car park just outside on the North East Perimeter.”

  “Wait one,” Issy said, and started running towards her Panther, closely followed by Don. She fired the ignition and sped around T3 until she was facing the North Eastern part of the airport, then stopped the vehicle and climbed out, taking her binoculars with her.

  “OK, where?” she said into the walkie talkie, with the binoculars to her eyes.

  “Do you see the corner where the Northern Perimeter turns South?”

  “Yes.”

  “Behind it on the other side of the road is a three-storey car park. See it?”

  “Yes, got it,” Issy confirmed.

  “Second floor at the Southern end, overlooking the airport and almost dead in line with the North runway. We’ll wave.”

  Issy zoomed in and saw two of her team waving.

  “Got you. Fall back and hide. Don’t disturb anything, I’ll be there in a mo. If anyone comes, try and capture them, but kill them if you have to.”

  “Roger.”

  Issy
turned to Don.

  “Don, can you arrange for a ring to be set up around the car park at five hundred metres?”

  “Will do, Issy,” Don replied, and got on his own walkie talkie.

  Issy heard him ordering the rest of the team to take up various positions while she headed back to the Panther, got in, fired up the engine and waited for Don to join her.

  She considered the best way to go without heading straight to the car park and giving any observers the chance to spot her. She thought through the various exit options, but decided that all of them might be more trouble than they were worth; someone would have to move the blockade for her to get through and this would give the zombies a chance to gain access. Anyone watching would easily spot any commotion.

  In the end she decided to drive the Panther to the Eastern cargo area just off the Eastern Perimeter Road. It would allow her and Don to move unseen, with large planes, hangars and solid fences surrounding the area and with a trading estate to the North. No one would be able to see her unless they were in the area themselves. It wasn’t perfect, but she felt it should work, especially if she pulled into one of the hangars which offered multiple exits.

  She drove into one of the larger hangars with two massive cargo planes already parked up inside and stopped her vehicle. It was dark and gloomy and eerily quiet, the sound of the Panther’s cooling engine echoing around the cavernous space.

  She retrieved her jar of fresh blood and guts and proceeded to cover her civilian clothes with the gore, before passing the jar to Don, who then did the same. Then they both gabbed their MP5s, binoculars and walkie talkies before leaving the vehicle. They both slung the MP5s over their shoulders, the binoculars around their necks and attached the walkie talkies onto their belts. To ensure they didn’t attract too much attention from the zombies they were about to encounter, they both plugged in some earphones so she could easily listen to developments and only respond if necessary.

  Satisfied that they had everything they needed, they left the massive hanger by a small side door on the Western side and waited for their eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness of daylight before heading towards the exit on Eastchurch Road.

  Issy realised that they would need to take care not to be spotted, especially if they needed to climb any obstacles.

  As they approached one of the exits, Issy spotted two coaches blocking their way. Both had the tyres removed so there was no way they could crawl underneath. Climbing onto the roof and jumping down was fraught with risk, as was going inside the vehicle and smashing a window. She eyed the fencing on either side of the coaches and realised that there was no chance of climbing over because of the razor wire sitting along the top. She gazed along the line of the fence as it stretched away into the distance, trying to remember if she had a set of bolt cutters in the Panther. Then her eyes widened as her gaze alighted on one of Bear’s makeshift barriers, which was covering a gap in the fence where a bomb must’ve gone off. The good news was that the gap had been plugged by a couple of transit vans.

  When she reached the vehicles, she automatically tried the door handle and was pleasantly surprised to find that it opened. She climbed in and shifted across until she was in the driver’s seat and waited as Don climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door.

  She waited until there was a small gap in the flow of zombies and slowly eased open the driver’s door. The nearest zombies sniffed the air and carried on gnashing and grunting but they didn’t give Issy a moment’s thought. She slowly and carefully moved forward, allowing Don to fill the space, then they both slowly merged into the crowd, nudging the odd zombie out of the way.

  After a few minutes they emerged from the crowd and stopped. They were both sweating from the close proximity of the monsters and the ever-present concern that their protective cover might be blown at any second.

  With a deep breath, Issy glanced around and saw the car park three hundred metres away and began shuffling in that direction. She heard her team in her earpiece, guiding each other into various positions as she and Don crossed the road and into the uncovered outer parking area. She spotted steps on the outer wall of the covered cark park, which clearly provided access to all three levels, but she knew that they couldn’t use these stairs because they were too open and conspicuous. Instead, she led Don through one of the open entryways on the ground floor and looked around. There didn’t appear to be any internal stairs, so that left the ramps.

  Giving their eyes time to adjust to the gloom, Issy clicked on her walkie talkie to give everyone an update of where she and Don were. She received confirmation that there had been no movement, nor anyone spotted, so they worked their way up to Level 2 and headed towards the Southern side.

  Once on level 2, they could both immediately see discarded wrappers and drinks containers strewn across the floor at the far end nearest the airport, so it didn’t take a genius to work out where the terrorists had stood and watched.

  She didn’t want to spend too much time in the open in case the terrorists came back unexpectedly, so she and Don trotted over to the area, quickly took in the scene then headed for cover.

  Issy just hoped the terrorists hadn’t gone for good and would be coming back to monitor what was going on inside the airport. It was back to the waiting game, listening as the remainder of her team moved into their designated positions.

  36

  Day 26 – 13:15

  Swindon

  Mamba and his scouting party had arrived back at the industrial park half an hour earlier and had helped themselves to some food and drinks.

  They had taken their time getting back, having taken a roundabout route despite Karina and Hana’s protests. Mamba had been rejuvenated after metaphorically being caught with his pants down by little kids and was being far more careful and suspicious than before. He was sure Ahmed would be happy to keep reminding him of this lapse for a long time to come. There was no way it was going to happen ever again, so he had ordered them to split up, double-back and meet back up on half a dozen occasions, further annoying Hana and causing her additional pain from some blisters she had acquired, but Karina seemed to understand and accept why it was being done.

  They had even used some of Mamba’s tricks like entering shops and emerging out of the back, changing clothes, and lying in wait in case they were being followed. It seemed that there was no one following them, but Mamba still had a nagging feeling they were being watched. He wondered if he was just being paranoid after his wakeup call.

  As soon as they got back, Mamba selected a few of his men to guard the perimeter, placing them where they wouldn’t be seen, but at the same time would be able to see everything around them. If those little bastards had managed to follow him, they were in for a big fucking surprise.

  Mamba’s scouting group were sitting on some camping chairs near the ring, which Basir had set up in their absence. The group were chatting and laughing about their little adventure. Except Mamba.

  Mamba was distracted, quietly watching Basir directing men and women on errands around the warehouse. He was stewing over what had happened and was getting more and more annoyed as he thought it through. Simon had really sparked his ire with his arrogant attitude and monosyllabic words, like he was king of the fucking castle with everyone doing his bidding. Well, not Mamba, that was for sure. The ginger-haired twat deserved a good kicking…or worse but getting to him was going to be a problem. He’d never trusted people with ginger hair. He didn’t know why; it was purely instinctive. He thought about it now and realised that he also avoided ginger haired women. Funny that. He normally didn’t discriminate, especially where women were concerned.

  He glanced at Karina. On the way back, she had stopped whinging very quickly and seemed to appreciate the lengths Mamba was taking to make sure they were not being followed. This was her first venture into the new world, and she had done well, all things considered. His eyes travelled over her body and he wondered why he hadn’t noticed her before when he carrie
d out the original selection parade. Maybe there had been just too many sweets in the shop to choose from.

  She glanced up and caught him staring at her, and a small, coy smile appeared on her face. Mamba felt himself growing hard, imagining what he’d do to her, but this was not the right time and it would have to wait. He looked away before he changed his mind and dragged her off to his tent like some randy caveman.

  “Anyone seen Faruk ‘n Ismet?” he shouted to no one in particular, looking to see if they were around.

  “No, thank God,” he heard Ahmed mutter.

  Mamba didn’t know what Ahmed’s problem was with them. Yes, they were mad fuckers, but that hadn’t stopped Ahmed dealing with plenty of those types in the past.

  Mamba was surprised when Faruk and Ismet appeared at his side like a pair of wraiths that had just materialised out of thin air. It reminded him of the little kids catching him out and he was beginning to worry that he was losing his touch. It didn’t help that they both had small grins on their faces as if they could read his mind and knew exactly what he was thinking.

  “Hey,” Mamba said, slightly off balance.

  Neither Faruk nor Ismet spoke but continued staring and grinning. Were they actually grinning or was it his imagination?

  “Where ya bin?” Mamba asked.

  Faruk: “Here…”

  Ismet: “And there.”

  Faruk: “Making sure…”

  Ismet: “You weren’t followed.”

  Fuck! These two were seriously creepy. Maybe it was these two Mamba had sensed when he thought that he still might still be being followed.

  “Did ya follow us the whole time?”

  Faruk: “Except when…”

  Ismet: “You went inside.”

  Mamba didn’t know whether to feel protected or hunted. He hadn’t had any inkling they were nearby and that was more than a bit worrying. If they could do that without him knowing, it meant others could too.

  Faruk: “Bad idea…”

  Ismet: “To go inside.”

  “Yeah, well, thanks fer the advice.”

  Mamba noticed that his scouting group had stopped talking and were watching his exchange with Faruk and Ismet with undisguised interest, although the two women did look a little creeped out. Mamba smiled inwardly. If only they knew!