Zombie Castle Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Harris, Chris

  The dog, a German Shepherd who was probably less than a year old, was just hanging on to its last threads of life. Daisy had opened the back door of the car and had climbed in by the time I got there and was cradling the dog’s head in her lap.

  The car stank of dog faeces and urine and was scattered with ripped open food packages and remnants of plastic bags.

  The dog most likely belonged to the old couple, or to the young girl who I imagined was their granddaughter, who had been feeding on the unfortunate shopworker until we intervened. They’d probably left the dog in the car with the rest of their shopping while they’d popped into the farm shop for something, and one or all of them had succumbed to the virus and turned while they were in there.

  All speculation, but that was all there was to go on.

  What had saved the dog was the shady spot where they’d parked the car and the fact that the car contained what probably had been their weekly shopping. It had kept it going until it had eaten the lot. Even though the car was in the shade for most of the day, the hot weather would still have made its interior incredibly hot. The heat and the lack of water had slowly been killing the dog until we arrived.

  I carefully picked the dog up and with Daisy stroking its head, carried it into the house. Laying it on the floor in the lounge I handed it over to the care of Daisy and, under the guidance of some grown-ups, a whole troop of young nursing staff.

  With the place secure and with only a small perimeter to watch and many hands to do it, everyone found themselves with some time on their hands and took the opportunity to relax and sit down. With so many of us, it was lucky that the house was large. Space was at a premium, but there was enough of it for everyone to sit down either around the large kitchen table or in one of the downstairs rooms, on a chair, table or sofa or on the carpet leaning against a wall.

  Most of us kept checking in on the progress of the dog. It was a she, and Daisy had named her Princess. She was improving and after having water initially spooned into her mouth, was recovering well. She had not yet regained the strength to stand but was now able was drink from a bowl placed beside her.

  The children were taking the warning seriously about not overcrowding her and respecting the fact that she had been through a traumatic period, and therefore her behaviour might be unpredictable. Princess lay there, though, looking at everyone around her, wagging her tail, proving she was on the mend and probably had a nice temperament.

  Horace had been to see her and seemed very happy about the addition of what he probably considered to be a young and very attractive lady to the group.

  We joked that he was now spending an equal amount of time begging for food from the kitchen and visiting his new love interest, no doubt telling her what a brave and heroic zombie fighter he was, and for her own safety she needed to stick as close to him as possible.

  Once all the food had been eaten and Jim thanked profusely for singlehandedly producing a delicious meal to feed all of us, the children were ushered upstairs to bed.

  They were delighted that Princess found the strength to follow them upstairs where once she was lifted onto the bed Daisy was sharing top to toe with the other children, she fell immediately asleep.

  When I went upstairs to check on them ten minutes later, they were all sound asleep. Looking around the room, I sighed with acceptance at the new world we were now living in. The .22 rifles most of them had laid claim to and had proved their competence with during the day, were leaning against the wall. I picked one up to check it. The magazine was full, but the rifle, as had all the others leant against the wall, had its bolt pulled back and did not have a bullet chambered. In other words, they were in about as safe a condition that a loaded bolt-action rifle could be kept.

  ‘Well done, them,’ I thought, my trust in them growing.

  Leaning over to adjust the blanket around Daisy, I saw she had placed the knife Shawn had given her at the very beginning on the bedside table next to her. Close to hand and ready to use.

  Bending to kiss her forehead, a grunt from the middle of the bed got my attention. Princess was watching me through one eye. I looked at her and ruffled her ears. Her tail gave a few wags of appreciation before she lowered her head and closed her eyes again. She’d told me she knew I was there and watching me.

  ‘Oh well,’ I thought, “It looks as if the kids have got themselves another bodyguard and looking at the size of her paws, Princess is going to end up a very large one at that.” The smell, though, told me that she needed a bath in the morning.

  Back downstairs the stresses of the past days were showing on everyone. A few bottles had been opened and passed around. I sat next to Becky, put my arm around her and took a sip of the wine I’d helped myself to.

  The conversation was muted, no one really having the energy to liven things up.

  I found my eyes drooping until Simon speaking up got my attention.

  “Right then, folks. By my reckoning, this house has six other bedrooms, five doubles and a single. Now do not expect me to make a habit of this, but I think we should offer the couples in our group the chance to spend the night together. Alone.

  The rest of us can easily keep watch, so go on, you lot, get yourselves to bed. And I do not want to hear one word of protest or we might all change our minds. And don’t worry about Sarah, she’ll be well looked after.”

  There was a general murmuring of agreement from all the others in the room.

  I was going to protest as a matter of course, but Becky stood up and taking hold of my hand, said, “Thank you, Simon.”

  The three other couples all stood, thanked everyone and started to shuffle from the room.

  I did the maths the same time as the others. There were two more bedrooms to fill.

  Simon chuckled as he knew we’d worked it out.

  “Maud. The single bedroom is for you, it’s at the top of the stairs. If you don’t use it, I will order Jim here to carry you up and keep guard outside your door all night, if that’s what it takes for you to get a good night’s sleep.”

  He then turned to Louise.

  “The other one is for you, my dear. I’m so sorry for what you’ve had to go through today and nothing I can do will make up for that. I’m not sure if you want to spend the night alone or with someone, but the room is there for you.”

  Louise walked up to Simon and kissed him on the cheek, saying, “Thank you.”

  She then turned and took Shawn by the hand and silently led the shocked looking man upstairs.

  The look that Maud gave the room stopped any comment before it could reach any lips.

  Once they had left, Maud thanked Simon for his thoughtfulness and the couples trooped upstairs.

  When I’d shut the door, I heard Ian say, “Friends! My arse. Shawn is one lucky git.”

  Trying not to laugh myself, Becky and I cuddled up in bed and despite what others thought we might be getting up to, we were both asleep within minutes.

  Forty-two people and now two dogs quietly spend the night, thankful to have survived another day.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Early the next morning the first movements around the house slowly roused everyone else and we all gathered downstairs in singles and groups.

  Shawn wore a continually embarrassed look on his face and kept avoiding everyone’s eye. He purposely didn’t stand near any of his friends, as he clearly didn’t want to be quizzed about last night’s goings on.

  He tried to go outside, claiming he wanted to check on the vehicles and do any repairs necessary before they left, and failed. when to a man, all his friends immediately jumped up and said they would help and followed him straight out of the door.

  The women were far subtler with Louise, who was looking a lot happier today than she had been yesterday. Understandable, as yesterday she’d had to say goodbye to her parents. I decided to bide my time and listen to the exaggerated stories from his friends and later find out the truth from Becky.

  Decisions nee
ded to be made as two options had been put forward concerning the plan for the day.

  The first option was to load up and carry on with our mission, initially to see if any of Steve’s family had survived, a likelihood even he now admitted was remote, and then continue towards Warwick.

  Becky was proposing the second option; that as we had found a reasonably secure and remote location and we’d all been operating for many days now under continuous and considerable duress and stress, even though we’d been doing exceptionally well, there was only so much we could take before mistakes started being made.

  She did acknowledge, though, the need to fulfil our promise to Steve and his family, and that her proposal might go against that, but she was convinced that the safety of all of us relied on us being ‘on top of our game’ and that a day of rest and recovery would go a long way in ensuring our continued success.

  No doubt what she was saying made sense, because we’d all been operating on adrenaline and instinct since it began. There had been a few periods where we’d been able to rest, mainly at Willie’s farm and the Church, but those days had still been filled with frenetic activity and continual exertion, only interspersed with the occasional downtime.

  The saying ‘tired to the bone’ would probably have been a good description of how we were feeling.

  No one wanted to let Steve down and despite going against what everyone really felt, the consensus was that we must leave as soon as possible and get to Worcester.

  Steve stood up and settled the discussion.

  “Look, folks, I really appreciate what you’re saying, but in all honesty, I think it will all be a waste of time. The odds of my family making it when we have not seen, apart from us, any other survivors, are not worth a bet. Don’t get me wrong, I do want to check, as we did with Louise. Also, probably if I have to admit it, I’m a little afraid of what I might discover.”

  He looked upset for a moment, but soon got his emotions under control.

  “Anyway, if they have survived, they will be at home. My mom was a hoarder and always kept cupboards full of food ‘just in case’. And my dad’s a DIY nut. The garage is always full of enough stuff to board up and secure the place up completely. If they have survived and are at home, we could turn up a week from now and they would still be there.

  What I suppose I’m trying to say is that another day won’t make a difference. If they are at home and hunkered down, they will still be there tomorrow, so if everyone feels as knackered as I do, a make and mend day will do us the world of good.”

  No one was going to disagree with him, so the rest day option was gratefully accepted by us all.

  When we weren’t on lookout duty, which involved sitting in a chair at an upstairs window, we passed the day either doing light chores, resting, chatting or just dozing quietly on a bed or a spare bit of floor space.

  The house still had water coming from the taps, maybe because it was supplied from its own source or the local mains system was gravity fed and still operated. Princess smelt no better and the children were tasked with giving her a bath.

  Princess’ recovery was remarkable. She was still a little unsteady on her feet and chose to lie down more than she stood, but she was a far cry from the starved, dehydrated close-to-death dog we’d found yesterday.

  She even seemed to enjoy the bath that the children gave her. The adults not so much as she predictably escaped before being dried properly and chose the spot in the middle of the lounge that would hit the most of us when she shook herself thoroughly. Of course, we all dived everywhere, laughing and shouting in annoyance at the same time as trying to escape from what seemed like gallons of unwanted water spraying from her fur.

  The children then decided to give Horace a bath. Strangely though, as soon as he saw what was happening to Princess, he disappeared. Only after a thorough hunt was he found hiding under a bed, where even the temptation of food would not make him budge to endure the what he obviously considered the torture and humiliation of getting washed.

  He emerged only when he heard the water draining from the bath. He then cautiously stood next to Princess and kept one eye on her, as if concerned she might go into sudden and terminal shock from the obviously unhealthy bath she’d just had to endure, and one even more careful eye on anyone who approached him, just in case emptying the bath had been a cunning ruse and he was next.

  Meanwhile, a few useful tasks, using many willing hands, were completed easily throughout the day.

  Using hoses and brushes, the vehicles were cleaned of the worst of the blood that covered them and body parts that still clung to various places. No one knew how the zombie virus really spread apart from bites, and so we could only guess that it most probably lived in the blood and tissues of the turned. Was it still active even when not attached to the host? Cleaning the vehicles of the worst made sense. A few of us then spent some time checking over the adaptations we’d made. Dents were banged out and a few improvements made to keep strengthening them.

  Every fuel tank on the vehicles and empty Jerry can was filled from the red diesel tank in the yard.

  The farmhouse was searched for anything useful. A lot had already been taken by the owners when they’d packed up and fled, but some things remained, hidden in the back of drawers and cupboards. Batteries, candles, matches and lighters, along with some carefully chosen kitchen utensils, were added to a pile we were creating to be loaded.

  With so many of us now, it had become apparent that we could do with more ‘camping items’ to make us more comfortable. Most of the ones not in a comfy bed or on a sofa had spent the night sleeping on the floor, lying under the blankets or duvets we had brought with us. Bed rolls and sleeping bags would have made it a more comfortable experience.

  They would also be a good idea to have going forwards. It was universally agreed that we needed to find a camping shop. If we found the right one, it would also have many more useful items for us to take.

  The contents of the farm shop that were not perishable were retrieved and added to the pile, as well as some tools we found in some of the sheds. Any remaining clothing, footwear and bedding left in the house was sorted through and anything claimed or deemed useable by any of us was added to the pile too.

  Dave and I inspected the shotgun that had been left in the gun safe. It was an old one, so I could see why he might have left it behind if the farmer had had choices to make. But it looked to be in serviceable condition and we added it to our impressive arsenal, along with the cartridges we scrabbled around the floor to pick up.

  Shane chose to spend the day cleaning and servicing as many guns as he could. He was told not to, but he said it was how he used to relax before. He claimed a corner of the dining room floor and used his gunsmithing tools and a cleaning kit, whistling to himself happily as he disassembled, inspected, serviced and cleaned all our personal weapons and the others we’d stored in the vehicles.

  Dave, even though we already had many thousands of shotgun cartridges, was grateful for every additional one we could find.

  He had one he’d picked up from the floor in the farmhouse in his hand and held it up to us.

  “One day this one cartridge might be all I have left between me and certain death by being eaten by one of those unholy bastards out there. We have the knights and we’re all going to learn to fight like them, but until the ammunition runs out, which I think it will before we’ve got rid of every one of them out there, guns are going to be imperative to our survival too.

  When we get to Warwick Castle, I don’t care if we have rooms full of ammunition and guns. In my opinion, we’re never going to have enough.

  Once it’s secure, we know that food should be easy to find. A couple of supermarket raids should give us enough to keep us going for a long time. Or we could even find a few of the abandoned food lorries we know are littering the roads everywhere, and drive them back to the castle.

  “It’s guns and ammunition that are going to be harder to find. I know we
can raid the local gun shops and keep widening the search. But the weapons I really want won’t be available from them. I keep having weird thoughts about this castle. When everyone else thinks of a castle, I imagine they picture one with cannons and guards with bows and arrows, throwing rocks and boiling tar down upon the besieging forces. I have a vision of it brimming with heavy weaponry. Machine guns positioned on the ramparts, mortars and artillery set up to rain death down upon any one who dares to attack.”

  He looked at me.

  “Somehow, I think that however good the defences are, if a super-herd ever finds us, it won’t be the walls, swords, pikes or axes that will save us. It will be lead and high explosives. And a lot of it, at that. It’s how we get hold of it that’s the problem. We’re going to have to go on some serious scavenging missions to make me happy.”

  He slipped the cartridge he was carrying into his top pocket and smiled at me.

  “Tom, I’ll keep that cartridge there, I think. Because if I find myself reaching for it, you can pretty much guarantee we’re fucked.”

  I clapped him on the back.

  “As long as you don’t say ʿI told you soʾ when you do. Dave, I agree with you. As soon as we’re secure at Warwick Castle, and I hope it will be soon, then its defence is going to be top of my agenda. If you can get hold of some heavy stuff, you won’t be getting any complaints from me, or anyone else for that matter.”

  Becky was right, a day away from the continuous travelling and fighting to survive was what we needed. It was a luxury, but a luxury we were lucky enough to be able to take. Not that any of us could truly relax. After all, a swarm of undead zombies could appear at the walls of our temporary sanctuary at any moment. The opportunity, though, to sit and have nothing to do but drink a cup of tea and chat with others in the group was a tonic we all appreciated.

  I could feel my batteries slowly recharging as the day wore on between occasional guard duty, completing a few lightweight tasks, and resting.

  The children were allowed, under strict instructions about not making too much noise, to play in the yard. Princess, getting stronger by the hour, enjoyed retrieving the ball they kept throwing for her.