Zombie Castle Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Harris, Chris

  None in the Volvo could forget the terror of being surrounded, arms reaching over the steel sheets, clawing at the glass, contorted evil faces only inches from their own.

  Using the materials that Willie had let us use, we had a plan to improve the design and strength of the wedges, both at the front and at the rear of the car, and the steel sheeting surrounding it. There was also enough steel mesh available to cover all the windows.

  Firing up the generator, the sounds of drilling and cutting soon filled the air.

  With Willie helping Shawn and me, Simon and Dave continued with their crash course in military training for the rest of the group. Fulfilling two tasks, they took them on patrols to both keep guard and to keep drilling them on weapon discipline and fighting techniques.

  With the day wearing on and with much still to do, it was clear we would not get all the work done in time for us to leave and make any decent distance before night set in. Broaching the subject with Willie, he had no qualms about extending his hospitality for another night. But he did suggest that we would have time to go to Newton Abbot and check out the gun shop. The route there would take us away from the straight and most logical route to Bristol, so going there today could make our journey tomorrow easier.

  The idea put us in a quandary. The benefits of the chance to add to our arsenal were clear, and if we went today it would save us time tomorrow, giving us a better chance of making Bristol, and the hope of finding Shawn’s friends and then somewhere safe to shelter for the night.

  But did we all go or just take the tractor and trailer, leaving some of our group behind? Splitting our forces was something we had earlier decided was not a good idea for many obvious reasons.

  If something happened, the capability of each group to defend itself would be reduced, and there was always the possibility of not finding each other again, if the group staying had to evacuate, or if the group leaving got overrun and killed. The others would never know, and sit, waiting for us to return, guessing why, but not actually knowing why we hadn’t.

  Calling a meeting to discuss the idea, eventually the pros of going outweighed the cons of not, and the decision to go was agreed. I handed the organisation of the expedition over to the military men and carried on with Shawn and Willie, completing the finishing touches to our vehicles.

  The tractor looked similar to before, but we knew the extra reinforcing and protection we had added would make it even more impregnable. A steel cage made of farm gates surrounded the tractor cab, giving the driver more protection and we had improved the skirts around both that and the trailer, to hopefully stop bodies going under the wheels.

  The Volvo was now completely surrounded with a cage made from mesh panels which would prevent any zombie from reaching the occupants inside, and the front plough was heavily reinforced. We were confident it would have the strength to hold together, even if it needed to do as it had done before, and push the trailer.

  The hole in the roof had raised sides on it, making it look like a turret, and a ladder hanging on a bracket between the front plough and the roof could be used for climbing down or if in trouble, up to the trailer if it pulled alongside.

  I test drove it around the yard and was pleased with the result. It was a lot heavier and that could be felt by the way it handled, but as the need was for strength and power and not a racing car, the sacrifice of speed and agility would be worth it.

  Simon and Dave finished planning for the expedition to the gun shop in the nearby market town of Newton Abbot, and called everyone around.

  Dave started the meeting.

  “I’ve decided to only send a few in the tractor. The priority is to protect the main group. No matter how many shooters are in the trailer, if they’re surrounded and get stuck as before, they won’t be able to fight their way out. They’ll need rescuing, so I’ll keep the larger part of our force in reserve.

  That will also mean our ability to defend this place, if need be, is enhanced.”

  He looked at me.

  “Willie, as he knows the way, will accompany you and Simon in the trailer. Shawn will drive with Louise riding shotgun in the cab. You’ll be loaded with a good portion of our ammo and food to last a few days.” I interrupted.

  “I can’t leave Becky and the kids. Separating us is not an option. I just can’t do it, I’m sorry Dave.”

  “I thought you’d say that, but can you listen to why I think it’s best?” I nodded and crossed my arms, preparing not to agree to whatever he said next.

  “You, Simon and Willie in the trailer, armed with rifles and shotguns will be able to deal with most of what you should come across. If the way ahead looks too dicey, you will just turn around and head back before you get into trouble. Your family will be protected by Jim, Steve and myself, backed up by everyone else. That will include your wife, who along with everyone else, will be able to put enough fire downrange to eliminate all but the biggest horde.

  “As soon as you leave, we’ll start working on Willie’s tractor to armour it. Willie’s house has shutters on all the downstairs windows, which we can secure from the inside, so we have an initial sanctuary. If things get too bad here and we think we will be overrun, we can use a ladder to climb down into Willie’s tractor and trailer, and make an escape to a list of predetermined positions that you’ll know about, so you’ll be able to find us.

  “If you get trapped, the trailer should keep you safe until we mount a rescue mission, using the Volvo and Willie’s tractor to come and get you.

  If we have to come to get you, everyone will come, and that will bring a lot more firepower to the party and will keep us together.

  “Tom, I need you out there. If you don’t go, I’ll have to replace you with either Jim or Steve, and no disrespect, but they have a lot more training than you and they’ll be more use here if I need them than they would be, firing at point blank range over the side of a trailer at a crowd of those undead bastards. We have the radios. They may not have the range to reach all the way, but within a few miles of each other, we should be able to communicate clearly. If you get into trouble, we can get close enough to communicate and update the plans if necessary. Also, as soon as you head back and reach the high ground of the moors, we should be able to communicate and let you know if we’re in trouble.”

  I was silent for a long time, thinking it over. The thought of leaving my family, even for a few hours, was terrifying. I made my mind up when I looked at Becky. She stood wearing a tactical vest stuffed with spare mags, rifle over her shoulder and a pistol in a holster strapped to her leg. She nodded at me and mouthed, “It’s okay.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Tom, I don’t want us to be apart, but I can see the sense in what Dave is saying. And we’re all able to fight, even Maud, so I have no doubt we can look after ourselves. We need what might be in the gun shop to keep protecting our children, so I think the risk is worth it.”

  Decision made, I looked at Dave.

  “Let’s go then.”

  Ten minutes later, I fiercely hugged my wife and children and climbed into the trailer.

  Five slowly drove down the track leading to the road.

  Chapter sixteen

  The route Willie had planned used small narrow lanes and tracks to avoid most of the small villages and hamlets on the route. Every house we passed lay silent, shut with no signs of life or with doors left open, indicating a panicked departure. The closer we got to the main A38 trunk road, though, the more signs of life we encountered, or more accurately, signs of death. Cars and vans lay abandoned or crashed, some with their occupants still thrashing inside, unable to escape the restraints of their seat belts; some wandering aimlessly, looking for their next meal, until attracted by the noise of the tractor. The ones we could reach were either pulverised by the plough, or stabbed through the head by one of us with a spear.

  This was the first time Willie had seen first-hand the apocalyptic world we had been fighting to survive in for the la
st few days. Once he had gone through the shock and realisation that it was actually all true, he began to sing a Gaelic war song as he thrust and stabbed at any zombie skull within reach.

  Shawn stopped the tractor and turned off the engine when we reached the junction with the A38. The planned route took us straight across it to join another narrow lane that wound its way to our destination. With dismay, we could see a van on its side, blocking our intended route with a small crowd of zombies gathered around it. Loud squawking and screeching from what sounded like a lot of chickens came from the van. None of the zombies noticed our arrival, all too intent on reaching the meal they knew the cacophony of sound indicated.

  Louise slid the rear window of the tractor open, so we could plan the next move. Simon patted me on the shoulder.

  “Right then, Tom. This is what we’re going to do. You’re getting the easy job of climbing down to attach a chain to that van, so that we can pull it out of the way. While you’re doing that, the rest of us will be risking our lives by standing up here, thinning them out a bit and trying to keep them away from you.”

  My response made even Simon blink, but knowing I was the obvious choice, I shrugged, smiled grimly and checked my weapons were all ready, while Willie lowered the ladder.

  As I stepped off the ladder, I lifted my rifle to my shoulder and gave a quick thumbs-up to Shawn, who started the tractor and edged forward. The noise of the engine starting made most of the zombies turn in my direction.

  The rifle in my hands gave me a sense of security. You could kill from a distance and not have to kill up close and personal as we’d had to do at the start, using knives and axes. The red dot on the sights made aiming easier. Moving forward, keeping in line with the bucket on the tractor, as soon as a head centred on the dot, I pulled the trigger. In the periphery of my vision, I could see zombies falling as Willie, Simon and Louise shot and killed the ones nearest to me.

  Booms of the shotgun and the loud cracks of rifle fire echoed across the countryside as the zombies fell from the sustained and accurate fire. I could hear Simon and Willie calling shots and magazine changes. Louise, with an open cartridge bag across her shoulder, kept up a withering rate of fire from her shotgun, the blasts of heavy shot causing more damage the closer we got.

  Shawn honked the horn on the tractor to indicate we were close enough, so with a final shot at the nearest zombie to me, I let the rifle drop on its sling and grabbed the chain we had shackled to the tractor bucket for this very purpose.

  With the van being on its side, it was easy to hook the chain around the rear axle.

  I stepped back and waved to Shawn that we were good to go, then I raised my rifle once again, searching for my next target. There were a lot more of them than we had originally thought, but the plan was working, and they were being held back by the rate of fire we could put down. I was shocked when I pulled the trigger and nothing happened.

  “I’m out,” I called, “Changing mags.” I didn’t know if this was the correct phrase, but I’d heard it many times in movies. Ejecting the magazine, I grabbed one from a pouch on my vest, when I heard Simon shout.

  “Fuck! I’m jammed.”

  As I turned to look, I fumbled with the fresh magazine and dropped it. With Simon not shooting, the rate of fire had decreased dramatically. This, combined with the movement of the trailer as Shawn reversed, made accuracy difficult, with the result that the horde, rather than being held back, were advancing rapidly towards me.

  I looked around. I wouldn’t have time to make the ladder before they were on me. My rifle was empty and impotent without a magazine. That left me with one option: my pistol.

  Willie had increased his rate of fire to compensate for Simon, who I could hear swearing loudly as he tried to free the empty bullet casing that was jamming his weapon. I could now hear two shotguns firing as Shawn, having realised I was in real trouble, had stopped the tractor. He was standing with Louise on the platform we’d created on its high wheel arches, and he was pouring lead down on the ones closest to me.

  My pistol bucked in my hand at every shot. I knew it contained seventeen rounds and I probably wouldn’t have time for a reload, so I tried to aim every shot carefully. I stood my ground, balanced, and held it the way Simon and Dave had shown us. The zombies were a mere few feet away, which in a way worked in my favour, as it was difficult to miss despite the panic coursing through my veins. I knew I was down to five shots left when Simon bellowed.

  “Tom. Stand back. You’re blocking our fire.” Hoping this meant he had cleared his rifle, I could do nothing but trust him, and do what he said.

  As soon as I’d stepped two paces back, two assault rifles and two shotguns firing as fast as they could decimated the front rank of zombies. I stood dumbly for a few seconds, watching heads explode and holes blasted in bodies from the devastating barrage from above my head.

  “Shit, you idiot,” I said to myself as I remembered I still had an empty rifle and a pistol with only five shots left. I changed the magazine in my pistol and this time successfully inserted a fresh one in my rifle, and then added my firepower to the fray.

  It was impossible for me to see from my position on the ground how many more there were, so I just kept firing and reloading when my rifle clicked empty. All I knew was that the zombies kept coming and they were getting closer.

  My ears were ringing from the concussion of the rifles and shotguns firing behind me. I’d just shot the last zombie as it was crawling towards me, with bloody stumps where its legs should have been. From the angle it was coming at me, I shot it through the top of its head, the high velocity bullets tearing through its skull and continuing down through its body.

  It wasn’t until I’d emptied an entire magazine into it, leaving an unrecognisable pile of blood and bones on the blood-soaked ground that I thought I could hear someone screaming. A few moments later I thought,“That’s me screaming.” It then dawned on me through the red mist of battle that had descended on me, that mine was the only gun that had been firing for some time.

  I looked around at the corpses, some still twitching, piled up and forming a semi-circle around me where I stood with my back to the trailer.

  Dropping another empty magazine from my gun, I reached for another and inserted it, charging the gun ready for any more that appeared. Hearing voices coming through the ringing in my ears, I looked up to where everyone was looking at me from the tractor and trailer. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, so I shook my head to try to clear the fuzz that was filling it.

  I heard myself say, “Did we get them all?” The voice sounded distant and echoed. Simon must have realised I was still partially deaf, and held his thumbs up and nodded. He gave a big grin and pointed at the ladder Willie was lowering over the side of the trailer. Grabbing the rungs, I hauled myself up and Willie and Simon helped me over the side. Willie held his canteen of water out and I drank from it thirstily, and then he handed me a hip flask. The sting of single malt whisky sliding down my throat bought me partially back to my senses.

  “Why are you all looking at me?”

  “Och, laddie, that was a beautiful thing to watch. I’ve seen it a few times in my life and I thought I would never see it again.”

  “Seen what? What the hell are you on about?”

  “The Gods of war took hold of you. You started screaming and hollering and every shot you took hit. There was nothing for us to do. You got the last twenty or so all by yourself, we couldn’t beat you to the shot.” He raised his hip flask to me in a salute.

  “You are a true warrior now, my friend. If your back’s to the wall and all is looking lost, I would be proud to fight by your side.”

  Embarrassed by the description of what I’d done, all I could say was,

  “I don’t remember it that way. I didn’t even know I was screaming until I heard myself through the ringing in my ears. Anyway, hadn’t we better get moving again? You can tell me all about it later, but every minute we’re out here is anot
her minute away from my family.”

  “Yes, mate,” Simon said, “but first, let me go and unhook the chain and collect all your dropped mags. I think we may be needing to keep as many as we can before the week’s out.”

  I looked at Shawn, who gave me a big grin and stepped back into the cab of the tractor. He waited until Simon had climbed back up and the ladder hauled up again, before reversing the tractor pulling the still squawking van clear of the road we needed to take.

  Simon passed me all the empty magazines, telling me to sit down and reload them all while he and Willie kept watch. After loading the first few from the open ammunition can, I started to calm down and feel normal again. The act of concentrating on pushing the bullets one at a time into the magazines took all my efforts, while the trailer rocked and swayed as it continued its journey.

  I looked up and caught Simon looking at me. I knew then why he had me do it. I smiled at him and he just winked and turned back to looking outwards, searching for danger.

  Newton Abbot is a sizeable town, but fortunately the gun shop was on a road leading into it. Gun shops, being a destination business and so not needing to attract passing trade, didn’t need to be in the expensive town centre retail areas where rents would be higher. Willie’s route led us round the small roads surrounding the town, missing most of the residential areas until it was no longer possible, and then we turned onto a road leading straight into the town.

  Fires could be seen burning in many parts of Newton Abbot. Shawn had to start using the tractor’s bucket to clear abandoned and crashed cars out of the way. Small clusters of zombies stumbled towards us, so we thrust our spears at the ones Shawn missed crushing.

  “Not far now,” warned Willie, “It’s just around the next bend.”

  “I can hear gun shots!” I exclaimed as the booms of a shotgun being fired could be heard over the engine noise.