by Craig Jones
“Get off the radio, civilian!” he bellowed, the radio emitting a screech of feedback. “Just shut up, I need to think.”
The radio went silent for over a minute. Nick continued to regard us with his zombie eyes, his head tilted to one side as if considering his next move. I expected his mouth to open and for him to address me once more as ‘mate.’
Finally the radio crackled back to life, and Rogers announced his decision.
“Trap or not, at least we’ll be moving,” he said. “Davis! When we pull aside, make your way through.”
“Yes, yes, yes. Sir!” Davis blabbered, his nerve openly broken.
I watched as the zombies continued to regroup on the sides of the motorway. Then my attention was drawn to Rogers’s vehicle as the top hatch opened and the general popped up through the aperture. He kept his back to the undead, and in a way that mimicked Nick’s method of communication, he waved us through with a single index finger.
Davis eased his foot down on the gas and the bus crept forward. As we entered the valley of the damned, people on the bus began to bury their heads in their hands, not wanting to look out and see those undead creatures so close. Just a pane of glass separated the living from the undead. Not everyone shied away from the sight. Robbie walked backwards along the bus as the vehicle edged forward, unable to take his eyes off his father. I followed him, keeping one hand on his shoulder so I could restrain him if he decided to do something stupid.
The Jeep tucked in behind us, and from the back window of the bus, I could see the outright terror on the faces of the soldiers. Chris Garlick sat in the passenger seat, and when he saw me, he focused on my face. He didn’t take his eyes off mine. I felt it was so he didn’t have to deal with being so close to a painful, yet hopefully swift death facing us all. I watched as the final bus entered the canyon of living corpses.
The zombies began to sway like seaweed caught in the tide, and I feared the trap was about to be lifted; that they would swoop on us once more, and it would all be over in the most brutal of manners. But they held their positions and soon we were through. Davis maintained his slow speed, but both the Jeep and the other bus sped up, pulling into the outside lanes of the motorway. Davis was visibly traumatized and was struggling to pull himself back together. Someone shouted out for him to move it, but still he dawdled. The bus engine was groaning as he kept it rolling in a low gear. I was about to run to the front of the bus and encourage him to catch up to the other vehicles when Rogers’s troop transport began to emerge from the tunnel of terror.
Rogers himself was still stood out of the top hatch, his back to me but facing the three apparent zombie leaders: Nick, the huge black man, and the short blonde woman. They continued their walk in the wake of his vehicle. The massed creatures began to fall in behind them as they walked. And then, almost in slow motion, Rogers drew his arm up, revealing his pistol when the bus finally began to accelerate. Robbie screamed out what I was sure the word was no, and then Rogers’s gun spat fire three times. The black man, the blonde woman and Nick fell to the floor, holes drilled precisely into the middle of their foreheads.
22
Robbie fell limp in my arms as he saw his father’s undead life finally extinguished before his eyes. He let out a miserable moan as I lost my balance and stumbled into the back seat as the bus picked up pace. Behind us the roar of the troop transporters engine peaked and it began to rapidly catch up with us. The zombies held their position for ten, maybe even fifteen seconds and then they broke rank, surging after us as one. The slower ones were getting shoved to the floor and crushed under the heavy footfall as the beasts looked to exact their revenge.
But by then both the bus and the Army vehicle were accelerating to forty, then fifty miles an hour. As fast and as felines as they were, there was no way they were going to be able to catch us. I caught a glimpse of the broad grin on Rogers’s face just before he lowered himself back inside and closed the hatch.
“No, no, no, no…” murmured Robbie, tears streaming down his face.
“Robbie, I’m so sorry,” was all I could offer as I held him close to me. The rest of the bus was silent. Everybody was clearly relieved to be free from what had seemed certain death, but the boy’s reaction had left them all dumbstruck. Finally, I half led, half dragged him back to our seat where I sat him down. I made eye contact with one of the women who sat close by.
“Will you stay with him?” I asked, and she nodded her agreement, despite looking uncomfortable with the situation.
I walked down to the front of the bus and picked up the radio.
“General Rogers?” I said after depressing the talk button.
“Save your breath, Hawkins. I told you, if I had the chance to put your friend down then I would take it.”
I threw the radio to the floor and the back burst open, spilling the batteries into Davis’s foot well. I ran my fingers through my hair, ignoring the driver’s curses about the radio being vital to communications. The rest of the convoy had slowed up a little to let the rest of us catch up, and soon we moved as one again, putting mile after mile between us and the zombies. I had no doubt that after seeing their leaders executed they would be even hungrier for our blood.
The motorway was clear through Newport. Before long, the huge hotel the Celtic Manor looked down at us from its perch. I’d been to parties and weddings there with my parents and brother. Then after our parents died, I attended those events with just my brother. But now the place looked long deserted. It looked as dead as the zombies that probably ran through its corridors and prowled its gold courses. While still in sight of the monolithic building, the lead bus began to slow and then the red taillights glowed as it came to a stop.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“We’d know if you hadn’t wrecked the radio,” Davis sniped as he brought the bus to a stop. It was clear he’d gotten over his breakdown. He quickly found the batteries and shoved them back into place. The radio came immediately to life.
“--roads blocked… huge pile up. There’s no way round, sir, and it’ll take an age to clear.”
People began getting off the other bus while the soldiers piled out of their vehicles, guns drawn, and formed a guard around us. We were on the midpoint of an overpass, taking the motorway over a vast roundabout and if any zombies were about they could only attack us from two directions: the front or the rear. Davis turned off the ignition and opened the door of our bus.
“Stay on board until I give you clearance,” he told everyone. But as soon as he was off the bus, I followed him down the steps.
I searched out Bateman as I watched Rogers call the drivers and unfold a map.
“They were letting us go!” I blurted as soon as I saw the captain.
“Keep your voice down,” he advised, taking me by the arm and leading me to the far side of the overpass. “The general hopes that by taking out their leaders, their cohesion will dwindle. He shot those three when the rest of us were safe. If there is any kind of leadership amongst them, then they were it. Don’t alienate yourself from the rest of us by saying he shouldn’t have shot the zombies that are trying to kill us!”
“But they were--”
“Kid, I like you but don’t make me choose sides. There are no sides. Just them and us. The living and the dead. I’m sorry the little boy’s father is gone but I’d rather it be rather one of those things than one of us.”
He was right. Of course he was right. Just because we’d seen a small part of Nick within that thing, it didn’t change the fact that he was already gone. How many people had died by their hands? And by their teeth? In my desperation to make sure that Robbie was okay, I was failing to see the bigger picture.
“How am I going to ease Robbie’s hurt?”
“You tell him whatever you have to. That it wasn’t his father. That even if it was his father, he’s in a better place now. You tell him whatever it takes for him to make it through this. You saved him once. Now you have to do it again.”
“I’m sorry.”
Bateman shook his head. “You don’t have to say sorry to me. Just don’t get on the wrong side of the general. He’ll leave you here with a bullet in the back of your head if he thinks for one second you’ll get in the way of the mission. And then who’ll take care of Robbie?”
I had no response. My only thought was to talk to Robbie, to make him understand why his father and every single one of those unearthly beasts had to be put down. I slowly began to walk back to our bus. People were unloading bottles of water and I took one to take to Robbie. Just as I put my first foot onto the bus, I heard my name being shouted.
“Hawkins! Hawkins! Get over here!”
It was the general.
I sighed and marched towards his transport to be met with glares from both Davis and Chris Garlick. The general still had his cap-covered head down over the map. I bit down on my tongue. I would be wasting my time trying to remonstrate with him about shooting Nick. It was just another zombie, just another flesh eater. Why would any human really care what happens to them?
“Davis, I’m sorry, I--” I began.
“Save it for someone who--”
“Private Davis!” Rogers barked. “The man has the balls to apologies. Now accept it and move on. Do I make myself clear?”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“Good. Hawkins, we have a problem here,” Rogers continued. “The motorway is a no go, but Garlick here tells me you’re local. Is that true?”
“Kind of. I’m from Usk.” I pointed towards the road that led north from roundabout.
“Ah, yes, the place you got in and out of twice, yes?”
I nodded.
“So the roads are clear?”
“They were, yes.” Dread rose in the pit of my stomach. “From that road yes they are.”
Rogers called me over to look at the map. I traced my finger along the road I’d pointed at, moved it beyond Usk and then east, showing him where we could re-join the major roads.
“Good. Very good. Right, we have a new route. Get to your vehicles, make sure they’re fully fuelled and turn around. We’ll get off the motorway and head toward Usk.”
I turned and began to follow Davis back to the bus.
“Not you, Hawkins. Remember what I said about keeping you close to me? Now you get to travel with me.”
“I won’t leave Robbie on his own.” I was all too aware of Bateman’s words. Don’t get on the wrong side of the general. But there was no way I could leave Robbie alone, not when his hopes of seeing his father again had been blown away before his eyes.
Rogers sighed, shaking his head. His finger moved to his scarred forehead.
“You’d die for that boy, wouldn’t you?”
I didn’t answer and tried to meet his penetrative stare, but my eyes fell to the floor.
“You keep him quiet, and he can travel with you too.” He lowered his voice, “This is the safest transport in the convoy. If he can get over the fact that I shot his Daddy then he’ll be safer in here.”
I wanted to wipe the sneer off his face with a punch, but I didn’t want to end up carrion on the road, waiting for the undead to find me and feast on my flesh.
“He’ll be quiet,” I said.
“Good, now move. We’ve had enough hold ups today.”
23
The journey towards Usk was far less comfortable in the confines of the troop transport than it had been on the bus. The seats were rigid and the space limited. Ten soldiers were already crammed in alongside their general and the presence of Robbie and me only intensified to the claustrophobic atmosphere. The stink of sweat and the aroma of gun oil clogged my nostrils and made me realize how long it had been since I had been able to change my clothes, let alone take a bath or a shower.
Luckily for Robbie, the view to the outside world was much more restricted. Although we travelled without a single holdup, there was still plenty of carnage on the roadside. Cars and trucks were left abandoned but more often than not, their occupants had not gotten very far before the undead had pounced upon them and fed. Bloody, half eaten bodies had been scattered like road kill all along our route. They served as permanent reminders that even in a safe and secure vehicle like this, we were all vulnerable.
General Rogers sat up front, next to the driver. He’d taken off his cap and mopped perspiration from his forehead with a grimy looking cloth. Then he turned to face me.
“So what are we going to find in Usk that can help us?” he asked.
I felt Robbie tense next to me. Every time he looked at the general, he bristled with fear and hatred, but so far he’d been able to keep his mouth shut. Even he was able to see that the general was not someone to be messed with. He was a brutal individual. I’d seen that when he had so easily executed the bitten soldier back at the stadium. I witnessed his glee at dispatching the zombie woman trapped on the broken glass of a windshield. Bateman’s warning continued to ring in my ears, and I’d managed to convey that to Robbie before we’d taken our place in the transport.
“It wasn’t your dad he shot,” I’d told him. “He sees things in black and white. Zombie or human. To him every zombie is a threat, every--”
“But the cure,” Robbie had stated defiantly.
How could I tell him that what the scientists had found, the substance that Rogers described as a cure, was in fact an eradication plan for the entire zombie species? That it was better for Nick to have had his undead existence terminated quickly with a bullet to the head as opposed to risking the potential suffering and pain the aerosol spray could have brought him?
“You need to live, Robbie. You need to survive.” I knew I had to coerce him in any way I could to calm him. “If you make it, then the memory of your father lives on. What needs to be remembered is the true memory of Nick as your dad and not that thing that he became.”
“He was still my dad.” The sadness in his voice almost broke my heart.
“I know he was. But if you can keep control of your feelings, we’ll be safer in the troop transport.”
And then it came to me. The minutest flash of inspiration. There was only one way I could persuade Robbie to try to carry on.
“And your sisters are still out there. You need to be strong to be there for them when they need you.”
Robbie fell silent. I felt sick, manipulating his emotions that way, but I had to. I didn’t want to leave him on his own on the bus. Yes, the people on there would keep a watch over him, but if we were attacked? Their only thoughts would be for themselves and for their loved ones. In a flight situation, he risked getting left behind. He could get the skin and muscle torn off his bones. He looked up at me, his eyes red and wide.
“My sisters…”
And that had been enough. He’d taken his place with me, and he’d been strong enough to sit there with his head down and his hands on his lap. No histrionics. No accusatory words. No bitter stares.
“Hawkins! What kind of resources does Usk have?”
The general’s words drew me back to the present.
“There’s one big convenience store right in the town center. We should head there.”
“Show me on the map.” He thrust the creased sheet of paper back towards me. I found the store, just along the road from the hairdressers’ shop where Danny had been bitten.
“Once we enter the town, follow this road. It leads to a small parking lot. The shop’s right there.”
Rogers took the map from me and pointed out the coordinates to the driver, then used the radio to inform the rest of the convoy about his plan.
“Sir,” the driver said. “The road ahead looks blocked.”
I looked out of the windshield, between the shoulders of the driver and the general. Two cars, travelling in the same direction as us, had collided and spun. They’d come to rest with their front fenders face to face in the middle of the road.
“Can you plough through?” Rogers asked.
“Yes, sir,” came the reply, an
d the transport lurched forward as he dropped down a gear and drove his foot down on the gas. Robbie and I were thrust back into our seats but hardly felt the impact as the armored vehicle bounced through, knocking the two cars out of our path with a metallic crash.
“Wide enough for you, Davis?” Rogers asked into the walkie-talkie.
“Plenty of room, sir,” came the crackly reply.
Within minutes, we were driving through Usk. I pulled Robbie closer to me as we passed close by his family home. I couldn’t imagine the thoughts going on inside his head, the deep pain he must have been suffering. Bodies lined the streets and decomposed on front lawns. From one house high up on a hill, smoke continued to broil out as the place burned itself slowly to the ground.
“This place got hit hard,” Rogers said, surveying the surroundings. “But then it was pretty close to the epicenter of the breakout.”
My throat constricted and the muscles in my scalp began to spasm. I had no idea that the military intelligence gave them such accurate information so quickly. I wanted to ask more but didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention. I was more than aware of where the epidemic that threatened to wipe out the population of Great Britain had started. It was just over the river, in my back yard.
We swung into the parking lot right next door to the convenience store without seeing any movement, any sign of life. Before we were allowed to exit, the soldiers from the Jeep bailed out and searched around, checking out every access point in the parking lot. Calls of all clear echoed around us. Finally Chris came to the general’s open side window.
“Sir, if I may speak freely?” he asked.
“Go on.”
“If that roadblock back there had been worse, this trip could have been a waste of our time. We need outriders to scout ahead and help us plot our course.”
“What are you suggesting, Soldier?” Rogers asked.
“Motorbikes, sir,” Garlick responded, and I felt his eyes seek me out in the back of the transport. “They would be quick and efficient. Less likely to get caught up in an ambush than even the Jeep. And if Matt’s story about him and his brother is true, he’s got two of them in his garage.”