Becky, Maud, Louise and Lucy took one look at Dave’s and my attempt to put it all back on in a neat and orderly fashion, and they ordered us to stop, and relegated us to the role of porters. In no time at all the sub floor was filled to the brim with items tightly packed together. Other more essential items were stacked neatly at the front of the trailer.
Most of the spare guns were laid on top before the floor was put back into place. Shawn constructed a rudimentary gun rack, fixed to the side of the trailer, to hold the ones we wanted to keep to hand, with an open-topped box by its side to store a large quantity of cartridges and ammunition, to make them readily available.
We kept the boot space in the Volvo clear so that if we came across more supplies, they could be loaded quickly. The only items we packed in it were some spare guns, a stack of ammunition, our spears and a small emergency rucksack for everyone containing survival items and food.
Despite Willie’s protests, we insisted he help himself to anything he wanted. It was only when I pointed out that he could give them, if he wanted to, to other survivors he might come across, that he relented and picked out a selection of rifles and shotguns and a quantity of ammunition for them.
After it was all completed, we all slumped exhausted into the chairs we had brought out from the house, and we sat in a circle with the lamp in the middle, as we had done the previous night. Shane fitted in with the group well and wasn’t shy about putting his point of view forward or suggesting other ways to do things.
The whisky bottle that was passed around mellowed everyone’s mood. Maud didn’t notice Willie topping up her glass, and she got a little tipsy. She began to tell us dirty jokes, which had us all splitting our sides with laughter. When she began telling us of her love for us all, Becky insisted that she go and have a lie down. Returning a few minutes later, she stood before Willie.
“I saw what you were doing. You got her drunk on purpose. That is an unfair and cruel thing to do.” Willie laughed and held his hands up in apology.
“Aye, my dear, I did too. And I’ll tell you why. I don’t think you all know and appreciate how amazing that woman is. She told me what her life was like before this all happened and you met her. Her husband was a cruel, horrible and vindictive little man who made her life a misery. But some of you met him, so you know that already.
“I’ve been watching her, and not only because I think she’s an attractive woman. She is constantly on the go; making sure wee baby Sarah and the kids are happy, the food is cooking and myriad other things you probably don’t notice. Don’t get me wrong, she wants to do all those things and she can do them very easily, but she needs to let go of the sorrow that has built up inside her from years of neglect.
Those few drams of whisky I sneaked on her brought out a side of her that has probably never been seen before. The true Maud. Hopefully, now it’s come out once, it’ll be easier for it to next time. She alone might have persuaded me to come along with you, and she did ask last night when we were patrolling together. But I know my place is on these moors, and no one, not even the godsend that is Maud, will make me leave.
“She needs her rest and would have insisted on patrolling tonight along with the rest of us, because she doesn’t know her true worth, and keeps wanting to please you all. Now I bet she’s sleeping soundly, and getting the rest she deserves.
And that, young lady, is why I gave her a few extra drams of the elixir of life.”
We all sat there, thinking about what he had said. I fully expected Becky to argue the point some more, but instead she stepped forward and gave Willie a hug. She still had tears in her eyes when a few minutes later, she released him from her embrace and sat back down. Dave was looking at Willie with a mock puzzled look.
“Are you a bloody psychologist now?” Willie held his glass up.
“No, laddie, just a true believer in the power of a good dram of Isle of Skye single malt.”
The laughter brought us back to the present and the next hour was spent patrolling the perimeter and sharing good whisky with good friends, before tiredness forced us to head to sleep,
We were now twenty-three.
Chapter eighteen
My watch shift had been the middle of the night shift, and I was tired, following the broken night’s sleep. But that was dispelled by the huge breakfast and mugs of fresh coffee that Maud produced from the kitchen.
As the last few items were being loaded, I helped Shawn put the last few finishing touches to the work the others had done yesterday to Willie’s tractor and trailer. It wasn’t as big and new as the one we had. Nevertheless, it would give him the extra protection needed when he had to leave the farm.
Unable to draw the moment out any longer, the time to leave arrived. We again thanked Willie profusely for all the unconditional help and shelter he had selflessly provided us with. He waved it away, saying it was nothing and anyone would have done the same. We knew differently.
Following handshakes from the men, he was beaming with pleasure from all the hugs and kisses the women gave him. Maud was last in line. She first shook his hand, telling him to be careful and not to do anything stupid. She turned away to climb into the trailer, but stopped and whirling round, grabbed him by the shoulders. Wrapping her arms around him, she gave him a long and from what I could see, passionate kiss. When she released him, he staggered slightly, a bemused, shocked look on his face. Then he burst out laughing and bellowed to the world.
“What did I tell you? The power of a good single malt. You all take care of that fantastic woman, you hear me, or you will answer to me, and God help you if I catch you.” We all guffawed with laughter. Maud, not quite understanding why, tried to look embarrassed, but her face kept cracking into a joyful smile.
We were as ready as we were ever going to be, so with a last wave and shouted farewells, the small convoy drove out of Willie’s yard and along the track that led to the road to start our journey to Bristol, where we hoped to find Shawn’s friends.
For no other reason than it had worked before, everyone assumed the same positions they’d had earlier in the vehicles. Shane joined the ones in the trailer. When Dave had given him an SA80 rifle and a pistol in a holster to clip round his waist, he could not fail to show his boyish excitement at having the opportunity to use them. Being familiar with a wide variety of firearms, it didn’t take much explaining on their use for him to fully grasp their operation.
The now familiarly empty roads didn’t bother us as we followed the route we had planned. We were first going to try the main A38, which then joined the M5 at Exeter. If it was passable, it would be the most direct route to take. If we discovered the way was blocked, then the wide carriageway would give us enough room to turn around and attempt one of the secondary routes. Shawn and I both carried maps marked with all the alternative routes we had planned, so all it would take was a quick radio call and we would both know which route to follow next if we had to deviate. After clearing a path through the carnage we had come across further down the A38 a few days before, we knew what the vehicles were capable of, so we were not too worried about getting stuck. We could just turn around and keep trying routes until, hopefully, we found a clear one. Although we didn’t want to find ourselves as we had at the base, hemmed in by an impassable horde of the undead.
Exeter worried us. It was the largest population centre in the area and the M5 motorway skirted around the outer edge of it.
The motorway would have been the obvious escape route that most would have headed for, so we didn’t hold out much hope of it being clear. But we did hope that we would be able to work our way through whatever we found. We had agreed not to risk it if there was a large gathering of zombies, and to just turn around.
The first few miles passed reasonably uneventfully, with only the odd car to clear out of the way, and the accompanying zombies to exterminate. Everyone’s hopes raised when we pulled out onto the A38 ten miles south of Exeter and found it to be clear.
Shawn i
ncreased his speed until he reached what we had discovered was the optimum for the passengers in the trailer: twenty-five miles per hour. Any faster and the ride got too uncomfortable.
I was puzzled when Shawn slowed down when passing an abandoned articulated lorry. Reaching level to the cab, he stopped. The radio crackled to life.
“I think we should try and get some fuel from the lorry. There’s nothing in sight and it could be our best chance for a while.”
My fuel gauge had dropped to half-full. The slow speeds we were driving at, and the extra weight my car was carrying didn’t make for an economical drive. We did have full jerrycans stored in the trailer from the fuel we’d scavenged from the tanks at Bickley barracks, but the sense of replenishing our supplies at every opportunity was better.
“Good call, mate,” I replied. “Have you had a chance to look at the name on the side of the lorry?” The name of one of the main UK supermarkets was emblazoned along the side.
“While we’re emptying its tank, it would be a shame not to see what’s inside it as well,” Shawn chuckled over the radio.
“How did I miss that? I’m the one who’s supposed to be a prepper.” I spoke to Dave beside me.
“You and Simon are in charge now. You keep guard and we’ll see what we can find.”
“Right you are, then,” he replied.
“Simon, leave Jim in the trailer on overwatch. You and me on perimeter security and everyone else can muck in. Fair enough?” Dave suggested. Simon gave a thumbs-up, and lowered the ladder over the side. Chet unhooked our ladder, put it in position and climbed down. The rest of us followed and stretching our aching muscles, we waited for the others to climb down from the trailer one by one.
Simon and Dave checked the surrounding area and declared it clear. The children, much to their disappointment, were told to stay in the trailer. Dave mollified them somewhat by telling them he needed their young eyes constantly watching for danger to keep us safe.
Shawn broke the filler cap off the lorry’s fuel tank and peered inside. Announcing it was three-quarters full, he set up the small hand pump he’d found at the workshop, and he started pumping out fuel into an empty jerrycan. Steve stood by, holding another jerrycan and a funnel, waiting for the first to be filled so he could pour it into our fuel tanks.
I used a crowbar to break the lock on the rear shutter doors of the lorry, releasing the catch to allow the door to roll up on its springs. It was full of pallet after pallet of foodstuff of all descriptions.
There was clearly too much to take, but following Shawn’s mantra of ‘If it’s there, take it’, Becky and I climbed into the rear of the lorry to decide quickly what would be best to take.
Tins of meat, vegetables, fruit and packets of dried food such as pasta were the obvious choices, so wasting no time we ripped open the wrapping surrounding the pallets and started handing down slabs of food.
We had designed the protective shield around the Volvo, so the boot could still be opened for incidents such as this. In no time the chain of people passing the items from hand to hand had filled it completely, the added weight making it sink even lower on its suspension.
Getting the goods into the trailer was a little more difficult, with someone having to stand half-way up the ladder, passing up to another leaning over the side. The effort was worth it, though, as the food we were loading, combined with what we already had should be enough to feed us for weeks.
A shout from Eddie of ‘Zombies coming’ stopped all work in its tracks.
A small group was approaching along the road from the direction we had come from. Dave had been watching in that direction, but Eddie’s young eyes had beaten him to it.
The group didn’t panic. We could see there weren’t enough of them to trouble us, but their arrival indicated that it was probably a good time to leave. Our fuel supplies had been replenished, and we had added a lot of food to our inventory. There was no point pushing our luck anymore, so Dave ordered everybody back into the vehicles.
Just as Becky and I were about to climb down from the lorry, she stopped and scrambled over a few full pallets to reach one near the back. She returned clutching a few boxes of sweets.
“May as well get the kids some treats,” she grinned as she passed them over to me.
“Nice one, love. Not sure what Maud will think, though.”
“Oh, I’m sure she understands the power a pack of Jelly Babies can hold over a whining child,” she said as she climbed up the ladder and reached down to take the boxes off me.
I grinned as I could hear the excited shouts from young throats when they saw what Becky was carrying.
Our journey continued.
The dark smear of smoke covering the horizon was a better indication we were nearing Exeter than the signposts telling us how far away we were. More abandoned or crashed vehicles littered the road, but we were able to weave a path through them. Shawn had dropped his speed to a virtual crawl as he chose the best path to take, occasionally stopping, and stepping from the cab so he could survey the road better and pick his route.
The nearer we got to Exeter, the slower we went. Shawn had to start using his bucket to push cars out of the way, and the zombies got more numerous. He was doing a great job and never committed the vehicle to a situation where he would not be able to reverse out or turn around. The slow pace, though, meant that the zombies could keep up with us when we attracted their attention with all the noise we were making.
I kept reversing my car, using the wedge at the rear to keep thinning out the following crowd, and Dave, Chet and Steve were sweating heavily from the exertion of using the steel spears.
The sight of hordes of zombies no longer filled us with dread. If we had a clear way through, we knew we should be safe.
Slowly we weaved our inexorable way onwards, leaving a trail of dead and mangled bodies in our wake.
Occasionally, to avoid any chance of getting trapped, we resorted to using our guns to deal with a larger concentration. The amount of firepower we now had enabled us to scythe through them without any trouble.
As the A38 became the M5 motorway, it widened to three carriageways. Cars and lorries still littered the road, but the extra width enabled us to speed up slightly and leave our entourage of undead fans behind. On a clear patch of road, I pulled up next to Shawn and indicated for him to stop.
The last few hours of relentless exertion had left the passengers in my car exhausted. I was sure the ones in trailer would feel the same way, so would welcome the chance to grab a breather and to drink and eat something.
Flasks of coffee and sandwiches made from delicious fresh bread Maud had baked earlier were handed out and gratefully eaten. I took the chance to climb down and inspect my car for any damage. Apart from the inevitable dents and scrapes, it had stood up to its baptism of fire. Unidentifiable body parts were on various bits of it, and everywhere was coated with a layer of blood.
Simon and Dave reminded everyone to reload empty magazines and check their weapons.
Shane had been wanting to zero in some of the rifles collected from the gun shop since we’d returned, but with all the work involved in sorting out and reloading the vehicles, had never got the chance. When the zombies who had been following us appeared over the low rise in the road behind us, Shane asked Dave about trying some of the weapons out, and he agreed that now would be a good time. The noise we’d been making had any in the area heading for us anyway, so a few gunshots wouldn’t affect our situation too adversely.
Simon acted as spotter, using a pair of binoculars to call the fall of shot, while Shane steadied himself. Resting the rifle on the edge of the trailer, he aimed at the approaching horde.
Shane told Simon which one he was aiming at and Simon called the corrections. Working together, it only took three or four shots per rifle to get each on zeroed in accurately enough for our needs, and then a few more shots to make sure. He said he would fine-tune them later, but we all agreed that a head shot from two h
undred yards would be accurate enough.
Refreshed from the short break and with the zombies now only one hundred yards away, we set off again, soon leaving our followers behind as we set a steady pace, weaving around the cars and lorries littering the motorway. From how the cars were abandoned, you could work out the untold story of their poor occupants.
A lot were pulled over on the hard shoulder, indicating the driver had probably been suffering from the last stages of the virus. They’d still had enough about them to pull to the side and stop the car safely, in the hope that they would recover and be able to continue. Most of these vehicles still held captive their former owner, thrashing and clawing at its interior, trying to reach us as we slowly drove past.
Other vehicles were parked in the same way, but had their doors open. We imagined that the driver’s last act was to get out of the vehicle in the vague hope that fresh air would help. Open doors meant the occupants were loose, which was borne out by the fact that there were usually some cars crashed nearby, as panicked drivers must have tried to avoid the living roadblock created by the freshly turned, inevitably adding themselves to the zombie population. These zombies, trapped by the barriers and fences hemming in the motorway, were no match for our vehicles. Mile by slow mile, we continued, leaving a trail of corpses behind us.
The road was completely blocked just after we passed the last junction for Exeter. Shawn stopped and stepped out of the cab. He announced after a few minutes studying the pile-up that he could see a way through it. The side of the motorway sloped down a hill, so he planned to simply drive along its edge and push out of the way those that blocked the route, and let gravity do the rest. Pulling to the edge of the motorway, you could see the tracks left by other vehicles as the drivers trying to escape the roadblock had used the sloping grass embankment. The steep sides had defeated the efforts of many, their cars ending up rolling or sliding to the bottom, where they lay abandoned.
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