Zombie Castle Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Harris, Chris

  Weapons over our shoulders, most of us drifted outside to watch over the children.

  Sarah was laid on a rug outside and she enjoyed kicking her legs and playing with some toys in the late afternoon sun. We all smiled at her attempts to start crawling that continually ended in her flopping back down on her belly, her arms and legs moving uncoordinatedly when for a split second it looked as if she was going to manage it, the wise sages amongst us predicting it would not be long.

  I just hoped it happened when we were safe and secure at our destination.

  We laughed at Horace. He kept trying to chase the ball, but the young legs of Princess were just too fast for him. Eventually, to save his embarrassment, he gave up and went to lie down next to Sarah, who squealed with delight at the big, furry, moving teddy bear with a wet tongue that tickled. Horace let her use him for a climbing frame; lying there, tail wagging, ignoring her poking fingers as they explored his nose and ears and eyes. A complete contrast to the snarling, growling, barking beast of a dog who had fought zombies the day before, biting and attacking any that got too close.

  Another benefit of the day was that the volunteer cooks had time to prepare a delicious feast for our evening meal. A few of the chickens that free ranged around the farm were caught and dispatched. Then, using the commercial size ovens in the farm shop, which still worked thanks to the farm’s own gas supply, they cooked a fantastic roast chicken dinner.

  As they finished preparing it, a team of us carried out some tables and chairs from the restaurant section of the farm shop and set them up in the courtyard. The restaurant was unfortunately open plan and connected to the shop, leaving on display the carnage that was too big to cover up. Therefore, if we wanted to eat together, al fresco was the only option.

  At the end of a delicious meal and before forty-two people and two dogs headed off for an early night, the group graciously allowed the ones who had used the bedrooms the previous night the same privilege, so we could use every hour of daylight the following day. The happy realisation was also reached that no one needed to do the washing up.

  Chapter Twenty

  Up and alert before daybreak, hushed groups, trying to let the sleeping children have as long as possible in bed before waking them, finished the final loading of the vehicles.

  The sun was just lightening the eastern sky as we started the engines and followed Shawn in convoy down the drive. I stopped for a minute when we reached the main road to allow Dave to climb down from the car and close the gate, before turning left and heading back to the motorway and Worcester. We’d chosen to go to another junction further up the motorway. The road from Louise’s parents’ village went past both junctions and as we’d seen smoke ahead on the carriageway when we’d left the motorway a few days before, we thought it might circumvent whatever problem may or may not lie ahead.

  Bringing up the rear, I was drinking from a travel cup filled with coffee Becky handed me after I’d carried the sleepy children downstairs and into the trailer.

  Jamie had taken the fourth space in my car after volunteering the day before. After he’d practised getting in and out a few times, using the ladder while wearing his armour, we agreed to him joining us. It wasn’t easy for him, climbing up the ladder wearing his armour, but he could manage it and if it didn’t work out, we could always try another volunteer. He’d chosen not to pick up one of the spears, saying that now he was out of the trailer and lower to the ground, he would stick with his axe. In my mirror, Jamie standing on the rear seat of my car was a sight I didn’t think I would get used to for a long time. Wearing his armour and helmet, he stood with his axe resting on his shoulder. The wind caused by the speed I was driving ruffled his long beard. In another age and if the car was substituted by a Viking longboat, he would have made the perfect image of a Viking, ready for battle, standing in the prow of his boat, preparing to leap ashore to keep up the Viking tradition of rape and pillage.

  It was a beautiful morning as the slowly rising sun lit up more of the countryside we were driving through. All my passengers were standing up on the seats, not for any reason apart from to enjoy the view. Soon, though, we would be heading into what we considered more unknown territory.

  The information we’d received from the soldiers only covered the motorway as far as Cheltenham. It could be clear or blocked, and there might even be another roadblock put in place by some local hooligans. We just didn’t know what to expect.

  Nothing we hadn’t handled before, so the level of concern amongst the group wasn’t really any higher than it had been previously. But there was no such thing as relaxing when travelling through a countryside where the entire population was flesh eating zombies whose only goal was to eat you.

  I also felt more comfortable, as the further north we went, the closer we got to areas I knew better. If diversions needed to be made, I would be more familiar with the roads, and possibly more familiar too with the best way the navigate around them. Maps did not show everything, and nothing could ever beat local knowledge.

  Shawn slowed down as we approached the motorway slip road and instead of driving down it, he continued straight and chose to drive onto the raised bridge that overlooked it, and there he stopped.

  Halting in a line behind him, we all had a good view of the road we’d planned to take.

  As far as I could see, both carriageways were a scrapheap of unrecognisable twisted, burnt and still smoking metal. Whatever had happened had been catastrophic and massive and it answered the question that had arisen when we’d seen the smoke rising ahead when leaving the motorway at the junction before this to reach Louise’s parents’ village.

  The soldiers would have joined the motorway at the same junction we’d left it at, so they probably wouldn’t have noticed it.

  There was no point dwelling on it, though. The way we intended to go was impassable and there was nothing we could do to change that.

  Louise’s voice came over the radio, “Alternative route B, the A38 is straight ahead. Shawn’s just checking his map.”

  I smiled to myself. Anyone who lived in Birmingham was familiar with the A38. It was one of the main arterial roads that led out of the south and the north of the city. Heading south, it was called the Bristol Road. Quite simply because it went to Bristol; the city we’d found Shawn’s friends alive and well in. Until the M5 motorway was built it was the main route for anyone from Birmingham to take to head to the South West of the country.

  My Grandad, who died many years ago, never took the M5 when he went on his annual holiday to Weston-Super-Mare. He never quite trusted the motorway that had replaced it and always refused to use it.

  “Well, maybe he was right,” I thought, thinking fondly of the old man I hadn’t thought about for years.

  The A38 mainly ran parallel to the M5, but it did pass through a lot of towns and villages, making the route potentially more hazardous. But then again, what other choice did we have? Shawn would know this too, and would divert back to the motorway as soon as possible.

  Shawn revved his engine, and the convoy headed off again. Dave sat down and studied the map.

  “Nothing we haven’t done before, mate. Just stick close to the one in front and let us do the rest.”

  “Piece of cake, matey.”

  Louise’s warning of “zombies ahead” made Dave put the map down and pick up a spear.

  I listened carefully to Louise’s instructions as she called out course changes for the rest of us to follow. Bringing up the rear, there wasn’t much left for us by the time the other vehicles had speared, smashed or driven over anything that was ahead.

  If one was left standing, the passengers in my car did their best to add it to the tally for the day. Dave had to tell Jamie to calm it down a bit when he, in excitement at how successful his axe proved, lifted himself out of the car and was sitting astride the roof with one leg in the car and one leg out, swinging his axe like a polo player at any Zombie within reach. Dave’s point was proved when Chet had
to grab onto his belt when an overenthusiastic swing that took the head clean off a passing one caused him to overbalance and almost fall out. Chet yanked him back in the car, where he ended up upside down on the seat with his feet sticking through the roof.

  He and Chet became helpless with laughter as he tried to right himself. His chainmail had ridden up around his waist and arms, rendering him completely immobile. It took ten minutes for both Dave, who was trying not to see the funny side, and Chet, pushing and pulling him to get him the right way around and back on his feet.

  Jamie took the bollocking Dave dished out to him, knowing he’d put himself and others at risk by his actions.

  Miles slipped away as any blockage we found was easily dealt with by Shawn and although we encountered a few concentrations of zombies, mainly in the towns and villages we passed, we didn’t have to slow our pace as we sliced through them. Shawn led us back to the motorway two junctions further up and we continued north.

  Approaching the next junction, I saw a sign advertising a retail estate that was located near the junction. A well-known sports shop that sold everything from tents to ski gear and canoes to bikes was advertising its presence on the sign listing all the businesses located there. I picked up the radio.

  “Hey, guys,” I broadcast. “shall we try and get the camping gear we’re after? We can see the buildings from here and it looks to be one of those large out-of-town sites. If it’s too dangerous, there should be plenty of room to just turn around and continue back up the motorway.”

  All calls came back agreeing it was at least worth a look and we followed Shawn as he drove up the slipway and entered the retail park, the entrance of which was right off the motorway island itself.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as we entered the vast parking area. Again, the apocalypse had hit before trading had begun. There were a few cars parked and one or two zombies stumbling around, but compared to what we had experienced before, the place was as good as empty.

  Shawn drove straight to the front of the shop we wanted. Its shutters were closed, apart from one which protected a small door. The door was open, but nothing was in sight.

  Dave picked up the radio and began issuing instructions, getting everyone into the correct position.

  The few zombies that were present had predictably started heading in our direction, so Dave asked a few of the knights on the bus to deal with them before we entered the shop.

  While they were being dealt with, the assault squad, as we had begun calling them, stepped from the bus and walked down the ramp on the trailer to gather together.

  A few of us helped to lift the ramp back onto the trailer so we could close the rear door and protect its remaining occupants.

  When the knights returned from killing the zombies, we began discussing entering the shop. We knew that it was going to be huge inside, with many aisles and other rooms that needed to be checked before we could call it safe.

  We decided to commit most of our people to the operation. The ones outside would remain in their vehicles and if any more zombies appeared, they could easily contact us using the radios and we’d be close enough to easily exit the building and support them if we were needed.

  The plan was for us to enter the building and stay together as one large group until we were satisfied it was safe. Then we would split into smaller groups, each tasked with gathering items from a list we were hastily drawing up.

  “Ok, everyone,” Dave called to us all, “my boys will lead the way with half the knights backing them up. If the rest of the knights can bring up the rear watching our backs, that would be great. Remember, if it goes to shit in there, stay together and we will exit as one unit. If this place is like others I’ve been to, it will be a maze of aisles, so don’t panic. It will be nothing we haven’t done before, just in a tighter space, that’s all. I want everyone to stay sharp. If we get attacked, only the ones facing them directly will be able to fight, limiting how many we can kill. Do not separate yourselves from the group, thinking you can help by getting around their back. It will divide our forces and could get us more in the shit.”

  I knew what he was doing. We had had such success with the tactics we had created that overconfidence and complacency could creep into our thinking. He was trying to stop that before it got one or more of us killed.

  With faces looking a bit more serious, we checked our own and each other’s gear, made sure our weapons were loaded and easily to hand, and we prepared to enter the building.

  The light coming through the clear panels in the roof provided enough to see by as we walked through the door and gathered inside.

  Some displays were knocked over and bloodstains marked the floor, indicating that something had gone on.

  Tension built, as gripping our weapons tighter, we worked our way further into the building, our ears straining to try and catch the slightest sound.

  Dave, who was in the lead group, raised his fist in the air as he approached the end of the aisle we were cautiously walking down, and we all stopped.

  Quickly peering around the corner ahead, he held his fist high in the air and pointed with a finger to the left. He was clearly indicating something was ahead. He gave the universal forwards sign and we all followed him around the corner.

  The end of the aisle opened into a larger area that used to display tents. Most of these were knocked flat by the throng of zombies that were all standing with their backs to us, crowding around some high racking.

  Three people wearing the uniform of the shop were lying, sprawled, on the top shelves of the racks.

  Quietly, Dave indicated for some of us to spread out to form a line, and using hand signals, he pointed at others to keep watching our backs.

  Standing in the line I counted twenty zombies. My trepidation dropped, we had handled this many before, just not in such an enclosed environment.

  The ones on the rack had not noticed us. They hadn’t even moved. It was hard to tell if they were dead or alive. If they had been up there since the start, then the chances were they would have died from dehydration or starvation. But if they were dead, wouldn’t the zombies have lost interest in them?

  Dave called out softly,

  “Ready, everyone?” and kicked the rack next to him. A dull sound reverberated around the deathly quiet shop.

  As one, the zombies slowly turned and faced us. They too, apart from a few in normal clothes, were dressed in the shop’s uniform. Movement on the rack caught my attention as two of the people on the top rack weakly raised their heads. One slowly raised his arm and held it up. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked to be in a very poor state.

  The need for quiet was now over, we had the attention of the undead and they were slowly staggering towards us.

  Dave shouted,

  “Knights, form a line and deal with them. We’ll watch your backs.”

  Jamie spoke first. From what they had told me, that meant he was now in command.

  “Shields and hand weapons, lads.”

  It took a few moments for them to form up and link their shields into a solid barrier before stepping forward to attack. Their skill, technique and discipline were such that even before they swung their first blow, I knew it was over. Within minutes, all the zombies were on the floor, blood and brains spilling from the wounds caused by their deadly weapons.

  They then checked each one was dead. The ones with swords thrust them through eye sockets or mouths if they were in any doubt.

  “Great work once again, lads,” said Dave.

  We all looked up at the racking. Two of the three were trying to raise themselves up. You didn’t need to be an expert to see they were in a terrible state. Their filthy, emaciated faces made them look more dead than alive. The third lay ominously still and unmoving. It was clear they were in no condition to help themselves, and we needed to climb up and help them.

  Dave spread the rest of us out in a cordon while he and Shawn put their weapons down and climbed up the ra
cking.

  “We need to get them down now,” he shouted a short time later. “One is dead and the other two are barely hanging on.”

  Our mission to gather supplies had inadvertently changed into a rescue mission. The three must have been on top of the racking since the beginning. Escaping from their work colleagues and unable to go anywhere, they had been stuck there.

  I looked up. For them to have survived, they must have been able to get hold of something to sustain them, otherwise they would have died of dehydration long ago.

  Hopefully if they recovered, we would find out their story, but for now the priority was to get them down and start looking after them the best we could.

  Dave called down,

  “Can someone get some rope? I think the best way to get them down will be to tie a rope around them and lower them down.”

  I pointed to the knight near me.

  “Come on, lads, follow me. There must be some ropes in the climbing section. Let’s go and find it.”

  With the knights acting as my guards, I cautiously walked through the shop, all the while checking for any stragglers lurking and waiting for the chance to sink their teeth into living flesh.

  Luckily finding the aisles deserted, I found the climbing section of the shop. The shelves and racks were filled with all the paraphernalia a climber needed to pursue the sport. Grabbing a few bundles of ropes that were hanging from a hook, we hurried back to the others

  Dave and Shawn had assisted the two who were still alive into a seating position and were helping them drink from a canteen. The water was already improving their condition and their movements looked more coordinated. When Dave signalled, I threw the ropes up to him.

  He wasted no time unravelling the rope and tying a loop around the first one’s chest, under his arms. With Dave taking the strain, the young man weakly shuffled to the edge and tried to climb down. His strength gave way and he would have fallen, but Dave, anticipating this, had a tight hold on the rope and slowly feeding it through his hands, gently lowered him into the outstretched arms of the ones waiting below, who grabbed him and lowered him to the ground. Some began helping him, while the others stood ready to help Shawn as he began lowering down the young woman he was attending to.