The Dead Walk The Earth (Book 3)

by Luke Duffy

  There was no reply from Stan. Taff tried again and again to raise him but to no avail. He turned to Bobby, gritting his teeth in a snarl and a look of frustration in his eyes. Both men turned their focus to the north and the area of the airfield. By now, huge columns of smoke were rising from that particular part of the island. The entire zone seemed to be ablaze, glowing brightly from the fires and exploding rockets that continued to pummel away at the positions around the airfield.

  “If Stan and Bull are caught up in that, I don’t think we’ll be seeing them any time soon,” Bobby mumbled to himself.

  After a while, Taff gave up on trying to contact Stan. Their leader was either dead or was unable to reply. At that moment, the reasons did not matter, and it was up to Taff to take overall command of the group. He looked behind him and saw the frightened eyes of Emily, William, and Richard staring back at him from their hiding place behind the Land Rovers. They were looking to him for guidance, reassurance, and orders. The veteran team members were less reliant upon their commanders.

  Danny had already began checking his position and ammunition, ready for a fight, while Kyle scurried over towards Bobby and Taff with belts of glistening ammunition draped over his shoulders. He dropped into the trench and began placing the belts into position beside the machinegun and checking over the weapon, ensuring the rounds were seated correctly into the feed-tray. Satisfied, he pulled back on the cocking lever and pushed his shoulder against the butt. The gun was pointed towards the enemy landing zones and ready to fire.

  In the distance, heavy weaponry rattled, and the low thud of explosions continued to resound across the island. They could see the tracer rounds whizzing horizontally across the ground and from amongst the buildings and streets of the towns, glowing brightly in the gloomy dawn. The burning red projectiles occasionally smashed against something hard and ricocheted vertically into the sky, seemingly slow as they sailed high into the air. For the moment, the positions around the farmhouse had not yet been noticed or received any incoming, but it was the calm before the storm, and they all knew it.

  Bobby reached down and checked that his rifle’s magazine was seated firmly. Next, he pulled back the cocking lever slightly, checking that there was a round in the chamber, and readying himself for battle. He remained crouched at the bottom of the trench, staring back at Taff for a moment, anger filling his eyes, and an expression of revulsion etched into his face. He was also scared and felt no shame for it. He had proven himself many times, and it was only natural to experience fear and dread before charging towards machineguns.

  “You’d better get over to Danny and give him a hand, mate,” Taff grunted to him, following it with a resigned and understanding smile.

  Taff knew they were in for a fight, and as always, had no idea how they would fare when it was all over. He could feel his stomach tighten and knot at the prospect, and his body begin to tremble with the rush of adrenaline. It was always the same, and no matter how many times he found himself headed into battle, he always felt sick to the stomach and racked with fear. However, the tough and experienced Welshman had learned how to use that same fear and turn it against his enemies. He picked up his binoculars and turned to check on the flashes of guns and high-explosives to the north.

  “Keep everyone on that side under control, Bobby, and send over one of the ops guys to help Kyle on the gun.”

  Bobby nodded and jumped from the hole, headed for the western defences of the high-ground where Danny was positioned. He passed Samantha on the way and stopped, dropping down beside them and grinning broadly. She was crouched in a shallow dip besides the track leading up to the house and covering the approaches. The two men she had brought with her from the command centre were squatting next to her, clutching their rifles, their eyes as big as saucers as the battle continued to rumble all around them.

  “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em,” Bobby hissed as he knelt in the ditch beside Samantha. “You might not get another chance.”

  “What’s happening? Has anyone spoken to Newport or anyone from the ops room?” Samantha asked. She looked remarkably calm and constrained considering the circumstances. Others were close to losing their heads, their nerves stretched taut and ready to snap, but she seemed casual in her appearance, almost bored.

  “Haven’t a clue,” Bobby replied with a shrug. “Someone has fallen out with us, but I’ll be fucked if I know why. I doubt that anyone is talking to anyone on this whole rock at the moment. I think most people will be too busy digging into the ground with their eyes lids and arse cheeks.”

  “The Irish Sea,” one of the newcomers from the command centre blurted with a strange and seemingly out of place enthusiasm. “The transmissions we were picking up from the Irish Sea; they must’ve been them. They were using weird codes, and we couldn’t break them. Who do you think they are?”

  “No idea,” Samantha shook her head. “Could be the Americans for all we know.”

  “Maybe,” Bobby nodded back to her with a smile before turning to the young soldier. “The reasons don’t really matter at the moment, though, and personally, I couldn’t care less. We’re in the shit in a big way, and all I care about is crawling out of it without getting hurt. What’s your name again?”

  “Paul,” the soldier replied with a sudden dread that he was being singled out for something unpleasant.

  “Right then, Paul. I need you to go over to Taff and give him a hand. You’ll be the assistant gunner for Kyle. You know what you’re doing on the machinegun?”

  “Not really,” Paul shrugged. “I haven’t touched one since my basic training, and even then it wasn’t exactly in-depth.”

  “Brill,” Bobby huffed. “Well, now’s the time for a refresher course. Do exactly as Taff and Kyle tell you, and for fuck sake, if the shit starts flying and we come under attack, don’t get in their way. Follow their lead and stay close to them. Make sure you keep the gun well stocked with ammo. Okay?”

  The young man nodded and glanced over to where Taff and the veteran were sitting. He was currently in a safe place and felt reluctant to move. He wanted to protest against Bobby’s orders but decided against it. The man staring back at him looked calm and friendly enough, but there was something about him that made Paul feel afraid and uneasy. He turned and began to climb out of the ditch. He paused and looked back at the others, but they seemed to have forgotten him already as they continued to talk amongst themselves.

  He felt completely alone and vulnerable. His stomach was churning and his knees were shaking as he looked around at the raging battle. Burning red tracer rounds were flying in all directions, accompanied by the never-ending flashes of exploding ordnance and the growl of aircraft engines. He wanted to find somewhere to hide and be protected from the danger. He wanted to run. He checked himself, whispering encouragement under his breath and reminding himself that he was a soldier. He gripped the stock of his rifle, nodding to an unseen face, and finding a new determination to stand his ground and fight alongside the others within the group. Paul moved towards the trench in a crouched run, flinching along the way with each detonation, no matter how far away it was.

  “Stay put, Sam,” Bobby said as he turned back to her and nodded to the man sitting beside her. “Emily, William, and Richard are behind us, on the other side of the vehicles. Keep an eye on them, and cover the road. Anything coming along it that doesn’t look friendly, call out before you start blasting, just to be sure.”

  He jumped up and headed for Danny’s position and soon disappeared from sight. Samantha watched him leave as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cigarettes. She offered one to the man beside her, and he gladly took it. A huge blast in the distance, much larger than all the others, rocked the ground, and he flinched with fear while expecting the sky to fall onto his head. Samantha smiled at him. She had not known him for long, but she had seen enough to know that he was not particularly keen to stay on the island, even before the attack. She had overheard him and Paul speaking about lea
ving a few days earlier when she unexpectedly walked in on them in the cafeteria of the command centre. She had not acknowledged it but kept it to herself for future reference.

  “You up to this, Colin?” she asked, lighting her cigarette and then holding out the flame towards him.

  He nodded as he puffed away. He was pale and sweating despite the morning chill. She could see that he was afraid, and when he began to sputter after inhaling the smoke, she realised that it was the first time he had tried a cigarette. Many times, Samantha had witnessed the same thing, non-smokers taking up the habit before or after a battle.

  “You’ll be okay,” she said reassuringly. “Just stick with the ‘old sweats’ like Bobby and Taff, and you’ll be fine.”

  “I’ve never been in a battle before,” he stammered as he stubbornly continued to puff away at the cigarette, his face turning a lighter shade of green. “I joined the signals so that I wouldn’t have to be on any front line but still have a career. Have you been in battle before?”

  “Once or twice,” she replied with a shrug.

  There was a sudden flurry of activity to their right. Samantha looked up and saw Taff moving towards them bent double as he bounded across the open ground. It was still too dark to distinguish his features, but there was no mistaking the squat outline of the little Welshman. His broad frame and scurrying feet were as identifiable as his voice.

  “I’ve made comms with Stan,” he whispered loudly as he passed them by, vaulting over the ditch, and continuing towards Bobby and Danny.

  “What did he say? Where is he?” Danny asked, turning to see Taff crouching over the lip of his shell scrape.

  “He said stay firm, and that if we need to bug-out, we should RV with him towards the west where the old church is.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, he wants to know what flavour milkshake you want with your Happy Meal,” Taff snapped. “I don’t think he was feeling particularly talkative to be honest, Danny. He said to stay firm and hold the position. That’s all.”

  “Is Bull still with him?” Bobby asked, hoping that there was no bad news.

  “You know that big daft cunt,” Taff nodded and grinned down at him. “He always manages to stay on his feet. Yeah, he’s alive and well. Stan, too, but I think they’ve taken a bit of a beating through that hell down there. We’ll wait here till they make it back from their adventures and bug-out as a single gang-fuck.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Danny replied. “I just hope they don’t make a frigging day of it.”

  The morning sky was getting brighter, and soon it would be daylight. All of them were concerned about having to make an escape without the cover of darkness. However, there was no consideration of leaving without the others. Stan and Bull would need their support, and Taff would wait for as long as they needed to, holding onto the ground for as long as they could.

  The group settled into their positions and observed the battle unfolding before them. More enemy troops were coming in from the west, landing in platoon and company sized groups, and securing their objectives, killing anyone they came into contact with. It did not matter whether they were soldiers or civilians, all of them died in a hail of bullets.

  15

  General Thompson rushed outside to see the chaos for himself, hoping to assist with the defence of the town and mistakenly believing that the militia from the east were mounting a surprise offensive. However, within just seconds of viewing the battlefield, he realised that the militia had no part in the assault, and that their positions were rapidly collapsing beneath the avalanche of firepower being hurled against them. It only took a moment to conclude that it would be impossible to stand up to such a violent and sustained onslaught. He could see that, despite their valiant attempts, the feeble defences and the soldiers within them could not possibly hold up to the enemy’s attack. He looked on and watched as the positions were smashed by the storm of guided missiles coming in from the west, soon followed by the ferocious machineguns and rockets of the circling gunships. They poured out a fearsome amount of firepower, and within minutes, buildings were ablaze and collapsing, vehicles were blown to pieces and left in smouldering ruins while the dead and wounded lay in the streets, sinking into rapidly expanding pools of their own blood.

  Thompson stood and observed the helicopters, his gaunt and heavily lined face glowing in the flickering flames and bright flashes that engulfed the streets around him. The menacing gunships drifted through the dark sky overhead, barely visible until they opened up with their snarling weapons. Their noise was as awe inspiring as it was frightening. The flashes from their rotating barrels illuminated their silhouettes as they fired, making them appear like giant, flying alien insects, spitting their venom over the land beneath, swooping and hovering as they blazed away with their armaments. They were formidable and terrifying to behold. He looked on at them with envy and respect for a moment, impressed by their weaponry and the skill of the pilots as they dominated the skies.

  There was no doubt that the enemy commander certainly knew what he was doing and had planned the assault very carefully. The shock and surprise was so complete, all that Thompson could do was silently applaud them. He had been a soldier for all of his life, and as a result, a strong sense of fair play and chivalry was engrained into his character. Their forces had been outmanoeuvred and outgunned by a superior foe, and he felt humble enough to acknowledge that fact. He almost felt like saluting the Apache gunship that slowly glided across the dawn sky directly above him, firing repeatedly with its heavy cannon. He grunted and nodded his recognition of the enemy’s skill.

  As he looked around at the carnage and the punishment being dealt out to his troops, he knew that it would not be long before the town was overwhelmed. The soldiers were fighting for their lives, not for the island or the remains of the British government, and it was clear that they were losing.

  “What do we do, sir?” someone howled to him from behind a mangled vehicle in front of the command centre. “What do we do?”

  A volley of machinegun bullets swept the street, snapping at the air and clanging loudly as they smashed against brick and steel. Someone close by began to scream as they were hit. It was a horrific and forlorn sound as the man’s blood poured from his body while he desperately clung to life. Another spread of bullets rattled along in the path of the first, and the pain and terror filled voice fell silent.

  “Sir, we need to do something.”

  Thompson stepped out from the doorway, uncaring towards the streams of heavy fire that tore through the street around him, ploughing into the tarmac, and ricocheting from the buildings. He stood in the open, searching through the smoke and madness for the man who was calling to him. A rocket screeched in from the far end of the street, racing passed the command centre, and slamming into a machinegun position at the opposite end. It blasted the bunker apart in a blinding flash of light, sending a shower of sparks in all directions, and leaving nothing but a hole in the ground and a cloud of pale grey smoke. The machinegun’s operators had been instantly ripped apart in the blast and scattered over a wide area.

  The General caught sight of the man shouting his name huddled beside a bullet riddled car a few metres away. He stared down at him for a moment and then shrugged. He nodded to him and turned to see one of the Cobras reducing another defensive position at the opposite end of the road to a smouldering mess. Command and control had been lost within minutes of the start of the invasion, and it was now impossible to claw it back and mount any kind of effective defence or counter attack. The enemy forces and firepower were just too well organised and overwhelming. The defenders did not have the manpower, weaponry, or assets that the enemy clearly possessed.

  “There’s nothing we can do, Gerry. It’s all over, I’m afraid,” Thompson shouted back to him over the cacophony of bone-crunching detonations.

  As a multitude of blast waves rippled along between the buildings, slinging deadly shrapnel in all directions, General Thompson
hunched his shoulders and stuffed his hands into his pockets as though standing and waiting for a bus to arrive.

  “But, sir,” Gerry called back to him with exasperation and staring at his commander in disbelief. He wondered if the man had lost his mind. “We need to do something. We can’t just give up. We need to…”

  His words were cut short as a powerful blast ripped through a building on the opposite side of the road. The shock wave violently struck the car he was cowering behind. It rocked against him and shifted from its position at the curb-side, forcing him to spring back and scurry away from the vehicle before he was crushed beneath it. He sprinted past his commander and lunged for the doorway of the building that housed the command centre. Once inside, he turned and screamed to the General, demanding that he find cover.

  The Prince of Darkness did not seem to care and went on ignoring him, standing in the open with his hands in his pockets and looking on as the battle raged all around him. Gerry could not believe that the man was still standing. Up until that point, anyone sticking their head out from behind cover did not last for longer than a few seconds. Yet Thompson appeared to be immune to the enemy fire and the flying shrapnel that seemed to have become more abundant in the atmosphere than oxygen.

  Finally, Thompson turned around and moved towards the door. His face was grave, and his shoulders seemed to sag. Gerry saw the sadness in his eyes and knew that the man he had looked up to for all those years had finally lost his resolve and had given up all hope. He wanted to reach out to him but opted to remain where he was and watch as the General walked by him.