Graham was apologetic to Steve when he described how the city looked to have been ravaged by fires, which they could still see burning in places.
Steve listened carefully to the report, trying to hide his emotions, and then he thanked him and asked him to continue their story.
By the time they reached Tewksbury, finding similar conditions at all possible places, they were getting very concerned if they would ever find anywhere safe enough to get the fuel they needed.
Running out of ideas, they chose to head up the River Avon, which merges with the Severn at Tewksbury, to see if that would yield better results.
Only this morning they found a boatyard not far upstream from where we were standing now, which was deserted of both the living and the dead. We’d spotted them as they were heading back to continue their journey, after filling their internal fuel tanks till they overflowed, and then deck-loading as many barrels and containers of extra fuel as they could without affecting the stability of their crafts too much. By their reckoning, if they maintained a slow, laborious but efficient speed, they should be able to make it.
We were now temporarily fifty two and two dogs
Chapter Twenty-Two
Graham and Arthur were both eager to hear our stories, but the news that the Royal Navy was still operational was greeted with both joy and pride by the Marines present, who insisted on asking questions that neither man could answer.
Once they’d calmed down, we gave them the short story of who we were, how we had met and where we were going and why. Short story it may have been, but so much had happened to us in that time that it still took a while to tell it. They were, naturally enough, full of questions about what we’d witnessed, and they were eager to learn anything they could about the zombies and our theories about how it spread. We answered their questions to the best of our ability, telling them what was guesswork and speculation, and the facts we actually knew.
It took Maud to break up the discussions by interrupting us all and saying,
“It is absolutely fantastic that we have met others. But, we’re still going to end up departing in opposite directions. So, all of us standing around here chatting is not getting any of us any closer to where we want to be, is it?”
She turned to Graham and Arthur.
“What we should be asking you is what do you need and how can we help you. You’ve mentioned food. Do you need some? I’ll get some of these big tough men here to ask you if you need any guns or anything, because I’m sure we can spare a few, but if you can have a think if there is anything else we can help you with, have a quick think now and let one of us know.
Also, your families must be going frantic with worry with you being gone for so long, so one of you should at least wave over the edge of the bridge at them.”
Maud, as usual, had got it right. It was great to meet up with fellow survivors, especially as these were the first ones we had met who were not in a desperate situation and needing our help.
I placed my hand on her shoulder.
“And this is Maud, the true leader of our little group. As none of us is brave enough to go against her wishes, I think we should do as she suggests.”
I held my arms open in an expansive gesture.
“What can we help you with? We have food to spare, and weapons and other equipment you might find useful, so please don’t be shy. The shop is open.”
Thanking us profusely for our kindness, Arthur walked up to the middle of the bridge, accompanied by Jim, just in case, and went to shout down to their waiting families that all was okay. Meanwhile, Graham started discussing with us what supplies they could do with to make the journey easier.
Food was a priority. We began offloading enough of a variety of both packet and tinned foods to feed the eight of them for an extended period. When asked about weapons, Graham was unsure, because neither he nor Arthur had any knowledge of firearms at all. They’d talked this over and admitted as much to each other.
I insisted, though, that they should take some, and selected two twelve-gauge shotguns. When Arthur returned, I spent a short time showing them both how to handle them safely and how easy they were to use. I didn’t allow them to practise firing them, because the noise might attract some unwelcome guests, but I told them that as soon as they were on the river and moving along, they should have a practice and familiarise themselves with them.
Chris, one of the later additions to the group, came up with the solution of how to get the growing pile of goods we were creating to the boats easily; to lower it down from the bridge in bags straight onto the decks of the boats.
Maud had already pointed out that there was no point stretching out the chance meeting, as delays wouldn’t help either group, so we worked industriously to complete the task of resupplying our new-found friends. In no time we’d loaded the goods onto the trailer Simon was towing, which he drove to the centre of the bridge while we bade farewell to Graham and Arthur, who left, accompanied by Dave, Chet and Jamie to escort them back to the river bank.
Dave handed a hastily written note to Graham, telling him to, at the first opportunity, pass the message on to whoever they found in command. He explained that it contained information about our group, what we’d discovered on our journey, our capabilities and what we hoped to achieve if we found Warwick Castle a suitable long-term shelter.
Half an hour later and sweating with the exertion of lowering bags of goods onto the boats, we waved our final goodbyes over the side of the bridge and continued our journey.
Dave was still ecstatic at the news that some remnants of the British armed forces were still operating, especially his beloved Royal Navy. He was imagining how the fightback would begin as soon as the forces gathering in the Solent combined. Personally, I was overjoyed as well. The plans we’d made and the journey we’d undertaken so far, trying and succeeding to keep my family safe and alive, gathering others along the way, it had all been on the premise that we were doing it alone; that any hope of help from any government and its associated forces had disappeared as the virus spread like wildfire across the globe, eliminating any and all chances of help arriving.
Warwick Castle was planned to be our intended long-term refuge. A place to gather enough supplies and where we could shelter behind its walls until it was safe to emerge into whatever world the zombies left behind, when they hopefully, eventually, rotted away to leave only piles of bones as a reminder of their reign of terror.
An hour and more destroyed undead later, we drove up the motorway exit to join the road that led straight into Worcester. I was now in familiar territory and knew the roads well from my many visits to the small and beautiful city that Worcester had once been. But, even on the outskirts where we stopped, it looked ominous and threatening. Abandoned and crashed vehicles littered the road, many zombies wandered between them now, heading in our direction as the noise of our arrival caught their attention.
The pall of smoke hanging over the city told a similar tale of what we’d witnessed before, and we’d already learned what Worcester was like from Graham and Arthur’s description from when they’d passed through on their boats.
To me it looked too dangerous for us to enter and I could see the concern on Dave’s face as he looked ahead. We’d already agreed in principal that we would only try to rescue family and friends if we thought it was safe to do so, but we had made it so far, and the thought of not trying now we were faced with the choice seemed unfair. A case of so near and yet so far.
Was it worth risking all our lives to check, though?
Waiting, looking at what lay ahead, I could only imagine that everyone felt as we in my car did.
Simon was the first to pick up the radio and speak.
“Sorry to say it ,guys, but it looks bloody awful in there. I’m not sure how everyone else feels, but I think it’s too risky for us all to try.” He paused.
“How about I try? Steve’s one of my boys and therefore I’m responsible for him. We promised him we wo
uld do this, but it’s not worth risking us all. If I unhook my trailer, Steve’s already with me to show me the way, the two of us will make the attempt alone. We should be in and out in no time.
Everyone else can stay here and if the zombies get too many, you can all just drive in circles around the motorway island until we return. The radios should stay within range, so we will be in contact.”
He chuckled wryly.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
I could have said, “Nothing, apart from you becoming zombie food.”
What he was saying made sense. The plans we’d made altered as new situations arose. Initially, we’d chosen to stay together and not weaken the whole by splitting up. That changed when a few of us had gone on the mission from Willie’s farm to raid the local gun shop, and when we had divided our forces to attack the ones who’d blocked the motorway and killed Daniel. Both successfully.
Simon was making sense, we owed it to Steve to try, but we also owed it to ourselves not to risk all of us in the process. A one-vehicle, two-man mission would accomplish both of those aims.
He was also not waiting for approval, as he probably knew some of us might try to dissuade him. His mind was made up and he was going, whether we liked it or not. Steve had also made his decision and was already out of the vehicle and unhooking the trailer.
As soon as Steve climbed back into the Land Rover, he took up position on the mounted machine gun and they set off.
Dave chuckled as I sat back down.
“Well, he wasn’t leaving that up for debate, was he? Typical Simon. As far as he’s concerned, it’s his responsibility and he won’t put any others in the line of fire, so to speak.”
He shrugged, looking out of the window at the approaching zombies.
“Oh well, let’s wait for him to come back. In the meantime, I think we should do as he suggests and keep moving, so that little lot approaching won’t give us any problems.”
Agreeing, I radioed Shawn to get moving and we all formed up behind him and started to drive slowly around the large island that straddled the motorway, adding more to the former zombie count with every revolution. We could hear the occasional distant chattering of the machine gun tracking Simon and Steve’s progress as they drove deeper into the dead City of Worcester.
Fifteen minutes later, I was beginning to get concerned because the machine gun hadn’t been heard for a while and no updates had come over the radio, and then we received a message from Simon.
They were returning empty handed and asked us to clear any zombies from around the trailer to enable them to hook it back up and get moving without delay.
The message left a lot unsaid, but it didn’t really need to say more. Steve’s family hadn’t made it.
Despite our best efforts, we were still forty-two and two dogs.
Epilogue
Once the trailer was hitched, we set off again. We weren’t re-joining the motorway, as the route we’d planned followed the A road from the junction we were at, eventually ending up in Warwick. From Worcester, it was the most direct route and the obvious one to pick, with an added advantage that it didn’t pass directly through any large towns or villages.
I was back on, if not familiar territory, at least roads I’d driven along before, albeit it under less dangerous conditions, and in a normal car instead of in a bastardised armoured version such as I was currently driving. I tried not to get my hopes up too much. The journey we’d started out on what seemed like a lifetime of experiences and weeks ago was drawing to its end.
I had, on the very first day the apocalypse started, sat on Bodmin Moor and said that we needed to get to a castle, as it would be the best place to ensure our survival. Not once, despite meeting more people both accidentally and by design, had we wavered from that goal. Everyone we met agreed with us that it was the best plan.
Now we were nearing that goal. Would it be all we hoped it would and could be? How much of a fool would I feel after encouraging everyone that it was the best place to try to reach, only to find it unsuitable when we got there?
I kept my thoughts to myself, but doubt filled me up to bursting point. Had I led everyone to their deaths when we could have found a safe place without having to endure the hundreds of miles we’d travelled?
Becky had always said I was easy to read: unable to hide my emotions. I always denied it, but knowing there was a reason I was not very good at poker, I took her gentle mocking and poking fun at me when she always saw straight through whatever emotional mask I was trying to put on.
Dave proved this when we were sitting down on a quiet section of the road, as he said, “Tom, don’t worry, mate. I have a feeling that this castle we’re heading to is going to work out.”
I replied wearily, “I don’t know. What if I’ve led us on a wild goose chase and all we find is a fucking nightmare. I hope so too, but the closer we get, the more nervous I am. You’ve all trusted some stupid idea I had on the first day this began. What if I’m wrong?”
“Nah, mate. You’re right. My old bones are telling me so, and sometimes you have to trust your gut. It felt right to you when you first thought of it and it’s felt right every time you’ve mentioned it again.” He laughed.
“And anyway, it’s a bit fucking late now to change your mind.” He pointed to a road sign informing us we were ten miles away from Warwick.
His words helped but didn’t lessen how nervous I was feeling.
The road provided no obstructions Shawn couldn’t deal with using his plough, and we only encountered significant numbers of zombies as we skirted around the famous town of Stratford upon Avon. Not reducing speed, we cleaved through the masses shambling along aimlessly until attracted by our approaching engine noise. Their futile efforts to stop our passage ending the moment they met tonnes of moving metal. The only reminder of their existence showed in maybe another dent or at the very least, a streak of red gore to add to the others that were building up in layers all over our vehicles.
Passing over the M40 motorway, I knew we were only minutes away from our destination.
I picked up the radio.
“Shawn, we’re very close now. I’ve been here loads of times and always use the main car park. We need to find the service vehicle entrance they use to allow their own vehicles to enter the grounds after hours. It might be a good idea if we do some reconnaissance first to save us driving around until we find it. If you could form a square, I recommend that Simon and I scoot ahead and see what we can find.”
After acknowledging and confirming it was a good idea, Simon and I hung back and waited until they had formed an impenetrable mini fortress with the remaining vehicles.
Simon unhitched his trailer once more and we were ready.
With everyone standing on the seats, holding weapons ready, we set off. Ending more zombie lives with quiet thrusts of spears or a swing of Jamie’s axe, I slowly drove onwards. Not sure of where to try first, I turned off the road, following signs to the main carpark and stopped at the still closed main gates. A padlock held the locking bar closed.
, “That’s a good sign, I think,” Dave muttered quietly, “If its locked, then there shouldn’t be any visitors inside. They didn’t have time to open the gates before it hit. Let me see if I can open it. Chet, find the bolt croppers, please, it’s time for a bit of breaking and entering.”
Taking the bolt croppers, he walked to the gate, quickly inspected the padlock before raising the heavy-duty tool and easily cutting the shackle on the lock. Sliding the locking bar open, he swung one leaf of the gate open, performed a theatrical bow and indicated for us to drive through.
Once through, he closed the gate behind us, ran to the car and quickly scrambled in.
Further up the familiar drive, I noticed a gate in the perimeter fence I hadn’t noticed on my visits before. Looking through it, I could see a roadway that led through the grounds.
Bingo! It had to be the one we wanted.
“This looks li
ke a good option, Dave. Same again, mate, if you please.”
With another flourish, he opened the gate and waved us through.
Slowly driving through the grounds, I tried hard to contain my excitement. The place looked deserted. Being a major tourist attraction and a site of significant historical importance, it would have a good perimeter fence to dissuade anyone trying to dodge paying the entry fee and to protect it when it was closed. The timing of the virus hitting had, for once, it seemed, worked to our advantage. It was closed when the world changed forever, and it never reopened.
We still needed to be careful, though, I reminded myself. It would surely have security staff on site twenty-four hours a day, and the perimeter fences, though difficult to climb, wouldn’t stop someone desperately trying to escape by getting over them.
We rounded the corner, and the castle came fully into view as we continued up the road. Carrying on, and with Simon following closely behind, we passed what I knew was called the Mound. It was the original site of the castle, built not long after the Norman invasion of England in 1066.
The road led straight through a gateway in the main curtain wall. I pulled into the main courtyard, stopped the car and turned the engine off. Standing on the seat as quickly as I could, I looked eagerly around.
Not a soul, living or dead, was in sight.
Simon pulled up beside me and turned off his engine and stood up on his seat as well.
All of us stared in awed silence at what we had discovered.
Simon broke the long silence by turning to me with a huge smile on his face.
“You, Sir, are a fucking genius! Look at this place. It’s incredible.”
He pointed to the gate we’d just driven through and to another entrance, which I knew in its dark depths was the original fortified barbican protected entrance.
“‘If we can get those closed, this place will be impenetrable.”
Dave joined in, slapping me hard on the back.
Zombie Castle Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 52