Pulling a bedsheet from the bed next to him, he tied it to his rifle and keeping his back against the wall, just in case a nervous trigger finger decided he was a new target, he began waving it up and down in front of the window.
Minutes went by with no reaction. There was nothing else he could think of doing to get their attention, so he just had to keep at until they noticed him.
When he was about to give up and try and come up with something else, the loudspeaker on the vehicle screeched and a voice boomed out across the village.
“You in the window. We see you. Are in in a position to offer us assistance?”
Lowering his rifle and removing the sheet, he peered round the window.
The machine gun in the turret of the lead armoured car was now facing him and a rifle was pointing out of the window in his direction.
He was not a coward by any means, but the idea of showing himself while facing a big machine gun that looked like a fifty cal and another automatic rifle, did not fill him with joy. But he decided where else would they be pointing their weapons, and anyway the machine gun could reduce the room he was standing in to rubble in a matter of seconds, so the false security of the wall he was using for protection did not mean that much, really. Slowly and with his hands held out to show he wasn’t holding a weapon, he stepped in front of the window to show himself.
After a few seconds with no incoming fire, he relaxed a bit and raised his arm in the universal sign of hello.
“Are you military?” boomed the voice over the loudspeaker. “How many are you?”
Willie was dressed in army surplus clothing, so the assumption was a logical one to make. He slowly shook his head to signal he was not and held up one finger to tell them he was on his own.
A plan had been forming in his mind. He first needed them to be quiet, so he could begin.
Using more basic hand signals he told them to be quiet and to wait.
Hand signals taught in the military hadn’t changed much over the years, therefore, these basic instructions were easy to get across.
Acknowledgment was even easier using the vehicle’s PA system.
“Understood,” came the reply. “We’ll go quiet and wait.”
Giving them the thumbs up, he stepped away from the window, pulled on his Bergen and exited the house. The idea he was forming was to create a noisy diversion a short distance away, which he hoped would get the horde to move on.
With not much more of a plan than that, he slowly worked his way through the village, using his hand weapon to pulverise the brains of the few zombies he came across that had wandered away from the main crowd.
Spotting a house on the edge of the village that stood in the middle of a large plot, he decided to see if he could find inspiration there to begin the rescue mission.
His plan became more solid when he noticed the propane tank that supplied the house with gas in the garden. What would be better for getting the zombies’ attention than a big bang!
Peering through the kitchen window of the house, to his dismay he could see the former occupants in the kitchen. None had any visible injuries, but they had clearly turned. Without any distractions they were all standing in the large kitchen, their heads bowed as if in a trance. In hibernation, as it were, until the chance came to satiate their hunger for human flesh.
Willie hadn’t had to kill any zombie children yet. He’d known the time would come, but so far all he had come across were adults. He’d seen the horrific chewed remains of youngsters, but not any ‘live’ ones.
“Come on, laddie,” he said quietly to himself, preparing himself to do what went against all the laws of decency and moral conduct he had tried to live his life by: harming children.
Finding the kitchen door unlocked, he quietly opened it. Quickly rechecking that all his gear was in place and wouldn’t hamper him, he tapped his weapon against the door frame to get their attention.
Four heads snapped in his direction. Low groans and growls issued from four throats as four pairs of eyes transfixed him. The nearest one, the husband and father, seemed to smell the air, as if relishing the smell of fresh human flesh emanating from Willie’s body, before groaning louder and moving to the open door. His loud rasping call and movement was the command for the rest of the pack, his family, to follow him and feast on the meal that had appeared at their door.
Willie stepped back from the doorway and raised his weapon, ready to strike. Previous experience had taught him that if you killed the first one, the ones behind wouldn’t step over or around the carcass, but would invariably still take the most direct route and stumble over it in their need to get to you.
The man reached the door and paused, trying to locate Wille, who had stepped a few paces back. Knowing this was the time to strike, Willie swung his sledge hammer overhead, the blunt end smashing straight down through his head, leaving an unrecognisable, deformed mess of blood, bones and hair as he dropped to the floor, half-blocking the doorway.
The remainder of the family were easy to kill as they predictably fell over the body and lay sprawling in the doorway, their arms and legs moving without coordination as they tried to regain their feet. Willie was thankful the children had fallen face first, so he didn’t have to look at their faces as he swung his weapon at their exposed heads.
Dragging the limp corpses out of the way to avoid stepping over them, he entered the house. His plan was as all the best ones were: simple. Turn the taps on the oven to release the gas and leave something burning somewhere so when the gas reached it, it should ignite and cause an explosion. He just needed to make sure he wasn’t near it when it blew.
Making sure all the downstairs windows and external doors were closed, apart from the kitchen, he searched through the kitchen drawers till he found what he was looking for: some candles. He knew that the propane in the gas tank outside was heavier than air, and so, when he left the house and closed the door, the escaping gas would build up, filling the downstairs of the house slowly like an invisible flood. Opening the doors to all the internal rooms in the house to allow the gas to spread throughout the ground floor, he set the candles near to the top of a bookcase in the hallway, putting them in some handily left ornamental candlestick holders to ensure they wouldn’t fall over, and then he lit them.
In the kitchen, he turned on all the gas taps to the hob and oven and waited for a minute to make sure the gas kept flowing and that it didn’t just stop. He knew some cookers had an auto cut-off safety feature, but fortunately, this wasn’t one of them. Once he was sure, he left, closing the door behind him.
After making his way stealthily back to the house overlooking the convoy, he got their attention again. Despite the military contingent going quiet and hunkering down in their vehicles, the zombies had not wandered far and were still pressed tightly against all the vehicles.
The ones in the armoured cars and lorries were okay as the zombies couldn’t see them in their elevated positions, but they still clawed at the sides of the vehicles. Wille thought, though, that it must be an uncomfortable experience for the ones in the Land Rovers. The zombies pressed their faces up to the windows, inches from their own, teeth and hands continually trying to break the bullet proof glass that provided the only protection.
Signalling to them to hold fast and wait, he moved away from the window to avoid being inadvertently spotted and sat with his back against the wall and waited.
Ten minutes later he was beginning to doubt his plan would work. He thought that surely the gas level should have reached the candle flame by now and began to wonder if the candles had gone out or if there had been enough gas in the tank.
Staring at his watch, he decided to give it five more minutes, and then he would have to decide what to do next.
It would be stupid to return to the house to check, he knew that, so he would have to come up with another plan to get the zombies to move on.
He was muttering to himself a few minutes later as he got to his feet,
“Well done you idiot, better come up with plan B, then,” when suddenly his breath was completely knocked out of him and he was thrown across the room by a huge explosion. The window shattered, covering him with glass.
Lying stunned with his ears ringing, it took him a few moments to gather his senses and realise that his plan had worked. Struggling back to his feet and wiping blood from a cut above his eye, he staggered to the window that was hanging by one remaining hinge from its frame.
Almost every zombie had been knocked off its feet. All the windows as far as he could see in the village had been shattered by the force of the blast. Looking towards where the house had been, a huge mushroom cloud was slowly climbing into the sky, the top of it dissipating as the wind caught it.
Willie chuckled to himself, “Oops. Think you overdid it a bit there, my boy.”
The zombies slowly regained their feet and as one, they began to move towards the source of the explosion, the crackling flames and the huge pall of rising black smoke acting as a beacon for them. When the last zombie had shambled from view, he made his way to the front door and opened it.
He was going to be alone no longer.
Chapter Fourteen
Captain Hammond
“What do you think he’s up to?” whispered the Captain to his Sergeant as they sat as low down in their seats as they could to avoid agitating the zombies that surrounded them.
“Not a clue, Boss. But what other choice do we have? He seemed to have a plan and my money is on him being ex-forces. All we can do is wait and see what he comes up with.”
Time dragged as they sat there, the vehicle despite its weight being rocked by the undead pushing against it.
When he returned to the window and signalled them to wait, they could do little else but comply.
The blast, when it occurred, took them completely by surprise. The vehicle jumped as it was lifted on its axles and bounced around as it settled again.
Captain Hammond was thrown from his seat and ended up in the footwell. Scrambling back up, he could see the damage the explosion had caused. Curtains flapped from empty, shattered windows and most of the zombies were clumsily trying to stand back up again after being knocked flat by the force of it.
His thoughts immediately turned to his men. The one in the back of the armoured car was shaken up but okay. The Land Rovers had been swept clean of the zombies that had climbed on to the bonnets and roofs by the blast wave, and he could see the occupants inside moving, so he assumed they were also okay.
“It’s working. I haven’t got a clue what he did, but it’s working,” cried out the Sergeant as he noticed the zombies that had regained their feet begin to walk off in the direction of the rising pall of smoke created by the explosion.
“What the hell was that?” muttered the Captain as he shook his head, trying to get the ringing in his ears to subside.
“It’s what you call a bloody good diversion, that’s what that was,” laughed the Sergeant as still more zombies began to stream from the centre of the village.
It took over ten minutes for the last to leave and disappear from view. The only ones remaining were the hundreds killed or incapacitated by their shooting, damaged but still live ones writhing on the floor, their bodies too broken to allow them to move.
The door to the house opened and their unknown saviour cautiously stepped out and made his way over to them, using his sledgehammer to end the struggles of any that were close to him.
Seeing him coming towards them, Captain Hammond told his men in the vehicles to keep a good look-out, and he and his Sergeant stepped from the vehicle to meet him.
Willie came to attention and saluted the Captain before extending his hand. Returning the salute and accepting the proffered hand, the Captain spoke first.
“Thank you. We were in a bit of a bind there and frankly we were all out of ideas. You have, and I’m not exaggerating, saved our lives. I owe you a great debt.”
“Och Sir. I couldn’t very well leave you, could I?” Willie replied, “I’ve been scouring the moors for days now and you’re the first live ones I’ve come across. I was beginning to think I was the only one left alive around here. I promised friends I would help any I found, so all I was doing was that. Anyway, Sir, what brings you here?” The Sergeant butted in.
“Wait a minute. You’re Scottish, you fit the description Sergeant Wood gave us. You don’t happen to be a certain Willie Beedie, do you? If so, you’re the reason we’re here.”
A shocked look came across Willie’s face.
“What?” he stammered, “How? How the hell do you know my name? You know Woody?”
The Captain laughed.
“You are Willie Beedie?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You are the reason we are here.” He then explained quickly how they’d met Sergeant Wood and the others, days ago on their journey south. Willie held up his hand half-way through his story and interrupted his flow.
“I want to hear this, but do you think it would be a good idea to finish it off at my place? Just one thing, though. How was Maud?”
“Yes, of course,” The captain replied and turned to his Sergeant. “Can you see if that lorry can be pulled free? If not, we’ll need all hands to empty it.”
With a, “Yes Sir,” he quickly turned and got to work.
“Maud?” Willie’s face broke into a huge grin.
“Yes, Sir. That beautiful woman who was most likely protecting the children like a lioness, while keeping the rest of the group behaving in the manner she expects.” Smiling at the wistful look that had come across Willie’s face when he finished describing her, the Captain assured him that she was in good health and still keeping everyone in line.
Using a chain, one of the Land Rovers, with much revving, screeching tyres and the strong smell of a burning clutch, managed to pull the lorry free from the wall and the mangled bodies that had piled up underneath it. It had sustained damage, one of its rear wheels wobbled and it juddered alarmingly when it moved, but it moved and that was good enough for now. It only needed to last a few miles more.
Zombies could reappear at any time. There was no time to waste, so Willie climbed into the rear of the armoured car and the convoy turned around, found its way around the blocked road and followed Willie’s directions to his farm deep in the moors.
Arriving as the sun set on another eventful day, Willie prepared and cooked the first hot meal Captain Hammond and the ten men left under his command had had for a long time.
Chapter Fifteen
Roused by the delicious smells of bacon frying and coffee, Captain Steve Hammond and his men gathered at Willie’s large kitchen table.
Wille was himself refreshed after having his first good night’s sleep for days, and he was in a good mood. This was mostly due to Captain Hammond’s insisting they did guard duty to give him a night’s peace. Singing to himself as he bustled around the kitchen, he heaped bacon, sausages and eggs onto a platter for the men to help themselves from.
The Captain noticed that his men seemed in better spirits too. A night sharing stories, discussing the future and drinking fine whiskey in between a not very onerous guard rota to interrupt their sleep, had done wonders. A new chapter had started in their lives, and now they had a mission to take their minds away from the terrible grief that had been looming over them.
Willie had relied on his isolated position being his main defence, but after witnessing the horde that had almost overcome Hammond and his men, he realised that the possibility of an unstoppable mass one day appearing at his walls and fences was something that only luck or fate would decide.
To him, it proved that the decision he had already made to leave was the right one, not just because he wanted to be with Maud again, but staying could be more dangerous than the journey he was planning.
The soldiers had also agreed in discussions the previous night to accompany him on the journey. With their families gone, there was nothing left to hold them to a
ny particular area. They’d already met this group, and no one could deny that their plan was a sound one.
Captain Hammond had issued no orders and did not influence the decision, knowing that to get them on board with the idea, they all had to agree with this, and indeed any other plan that came up in the future.
Intelligent enough to realise that the unique situation they found themselves in meant the normal rules regarding the chain of command did not apply anymore, he let them all make their own mind up. They were all in this together, after all. He planned to lead them and be responsible for them, but any decision-making process from now on would need to be an ‘all ranks’ joint agreement for them to remain an effective and cohesive unit.
With the guard rota changing regularly, the men sat round the kitchen table and planned their next move. The agreement having already been reached for them all to head to Warwick Castle, the how and when was what needed to be settled.
Willie dug out a large-scale map from a drawer, and spreading it across the kitchen table, they got on with it. The route was easy to map. They would drive up the M5 motorway, which they already knew was clear as far as Cheltenham, and then hopefully continue onwards until Worcester and then depending on what they found, feel their way across country, either using main or side roads, until they reached Warwick itself.
Choosing what equipment they would take was also easy. Absolutely everything they could!
The real planning was what vehicles they would take. With only twelve of them and six military vehicles and Willie’s tractor at their disposal, if they took them all it would leave each one sorely undermanned and difficult to defend. One of them would only have a driver, not an ideal situation at all if any fighting needed to take place.
Wille had converted his tractor and trailer in a similar fashion to the one the soldiers had already seen, and Willie had witnessed first-hand how effective it was at providing something that had the power to smash though zombie masses and also provide an excellent platform to fight from. He insisted that it would be a bad mistake to leave it behind.
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