“Get back from there, you stupid bastard!”
I started in shock again and saw three soldiers hiding behind the reception desk. One of them was pointing his rifle directly at me.
“Hey, don’t shoot,” I cried. “I’m stuck in here away from those things the same as you.” I scuttled across the open area and joined them behind the desk.
“What you doin’ here?” the same soldier asked aggressively. “Are you lootin’? We’ve got rules about that. We have permission to shoot looters on sight, y’know.”
“Fuck off,” I replied instinctively. “We’re hiding out, just like you.”
The squaddie gave me a derisive look. Looking at his face I could see his pupils were dilated which I initially put down to the fact that he and his mates were skulking in semi-darkness behind a desk.
“You said ‘we’,” he continued.
“Yes, there is a group of us hiding out upstairs,” I offered, foolishly unaware that I should treat him with any suspicion at all - after all they were just squaddies and it was perfectly understandable that they were sure to fear the zombies as well.
“Got any women with you?”
At this, alarm bells began to ring loudly in my tired brain.
“Women? What do you mean by that?” I immediately replied, while racking my brain and trying not to raise his suspicions. Stick to almost the truth. “Nope, just a big bastard security guard and a couple of other handy blokes from the offices in this block. Why?”
“No reason,” he replied. Looking at him more closely I decided he was a sneaky one, this one, and the other two didn’t come across much better. Shit, what had we walked into? If I didn’t respect the fact that they were squaddies and supposed to be our protectors I would have sworn they were all in the grip of some narcotic, their jittery disposition could be nerves or something else - substance abuse. I hate drugs, always have. I could imagine some people might think of it as good a way as any to endure the ZA, although when you consider drugs would make you so dumb, and slow your wits to the extent that they would inevitably cause you to get caught; frankly the thought of being eaten alive made me seriously question that wisdom.
“Who are you guys?” I asked, hoping to deflect any further enquiries about my group’s makeup.
“We’re from the Palace, Her Maj’s own Household troops. We got cut off from the rest of the patrol when that lot showed up,” he said jerking his thumb at the front door.
“Why are you so interested in women? Not that I’m not,” I added quickly hoping to play on their thought process.
“It’s pretty obvious from everything that goin’ on that nothing is normal out there, probably won’t be - ever again.”
“What do you know about all this?” I asked, nodding towards the outside of the building, hoping he had some information to add to the little we knew.
“Not a lot. All we know is that civil law has been suspended and the army is now in charge, martial law rules are in force which means we can tell you what to do.”
“And that excites you, does it?” My sarcasm takes over when I’m irritated. I saw him bristle at my petulant response so I changed tack. “When did all this start?”
“For us, about around four this morning. Bastards got me up out of my cot early. Now we’re stuck ’ere, nuffing to do. It woulda been good if you’d ’ad a bird or two with you, that’s all.”
As he was speaking he was absent-mindedly fingering his rifle in a way that I’ll bet was not taught on the parade ground.
“So, are your guys coming back for you?” I asked.
“Nah, they’re pretty fucked I reckon. We’re on our lonesome.”
I thought about what I should do, the others would be getting nervous, wondering what had happened to me if I didn’t return shortly. The last thing I wanted was for these guys to see the women in our group. There wasn’t much we could do against three tweaking arseholes with rifles and fixed bayonets. I’d done very little weapon fighting practice and so I’d probably be about as competent as someone with no training. Anyway, as far as I was beginning to see there was a world of difference between training and the real thing.
“Right, I’ll be getting back to the lads, they’ll be wondering what’s happened to me.”
“What? Are they such a bunch of pussies they sent you out alone?”
“It’s not that, it’s just that there’s no point in risking more lives than you need to. Anyway, I can move more quietly and quickly on my own.”
The soldier just shrugged.
“Whatever.” He’d already lost interest in my story. “Just stay out of sight and out of our fucking way. Don’t want you bastards bringing them bastards down on us. I’m warning ya.” The last words were accentuated by him raising the barrel of his gun up to aim at me again.
“Sure thing, officer. I don’t want them near me either. Good luck.”
Quietly I slipped away from them and returned to the top floor, occasionally stopping to make sure I hadn’t been followed. I thought the Household Division at Buckingham Palace, if they were what they claimed to be, were some of the elite fighting men of the British Army. I guess rotten apples existed everywhere in life.
Arriving, I noticed Becky had already descended from the loft and was waiting anxiously at the top of the stairs.
“What are you doing?” I hissed anxiously. “I need you to wait up in the loft.”
“Why? I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Despite my anxiety for her safety I loved it when she jutted her jaw in defiance.
“Because there are some doped-up troops downstairs and I don’t like the look of them one bit. They asked me if there were women in our group and I can’t imagine they were thinking of having a tea party any time soon. I said no. I think they believed me.”
“Oh,” Becky exhaled, suddenly apprehensive.
“So I want all the women back up there and out of sight for now, and we’ll wait for them to leave.”
“Aw, she doesn’t have to hide on our account,” a voice sounded from behind me.
*
9 - The Rise And Fall - And Rise of Sneaky Bastard
Sneaky Bastard was right behind me. In spite of his drugged up state he’d managed to follow me stealthily in spite of my precautions - as I said, I was no expert. The squaddie’s gun was pointing unerringly between my eyes - it was one of my worst moments in the early apocalypse. My fear for Becky was intense; I didn’t want these bastards to harm her, or the other women for that matter.
I glanced behind him and mentally sighed with relief; the staircase was empty, his buddies had clearly declined to accompany him on his little adventure. Or maybe they were too high to care.
“What do you want?” I demanded, trying not to show my fear of him or his gun.
“Dumb question, you poncy bastard,” he replied. “Move out the way, I wanna meet your girlie, get better acquainted, so to speak. Is she the security guard?” he continued sarcastically.
Jerking the bayonetted rifle he commanded me to move aside. At first I hesitated, desperately thinking about what I could do without getting myself killed. Dying wouldn’t protect Becky. I had to be smart, play for time. Using the bayonet he prodded me painfully in the middle of my chest, his face full of anger and a burning hatred. My face drained of colour with apprehension of what was to come - I forgot to tell you, I have an intense fear of being stabbed which started in childhood, but I won’t go into that now.
“Move it, you fucking civvie bastard,” he hissed, his bloodshot eyes glaring venomously into mine.
I stepped slowly backwards and sideways to my right. Somehow, and I’ll never be able to explain it, I could feel Pius above me in the darkness of the attic, waiting to pounce. I kept moving backwards and closer to the open trapdoor, my now hidden right hand plucking at Becky’s sleeve drawing her slowly around me, sideways and away from the open loft aperture. Sneaky Bastard was being drawn along with my movement, his drug-addled brain dulling his instincts for a trap.<
br />
The squaddie was licking his lips now in anticipation, looking Becky up and down, the hungry expression in his eyes telling me he was mentally stripping Becky - and liking what he saw.
“You’re a pretty one, ain’t ya?” he whispered hoarsely. Becky cringed in horror at the sound of his voice and gripped my arm tightly enough to bruise.
“I told you to get out of the fucking way!” he blared at me, pulling his rifle back in anticipation of using his bayonet.
The fucker never got the chance. Pius fell through the aperture and landed on him feet first, his enormous bulk inexorable. Together they went down and on hitting the ground there was a loud cracking sound as Pius’ foot crushed Sneaky Bastard’s chest, bones splintering and creating their own internal bayonet-like havoc. The soldier gasped in agony, blood spilling from his mouth mixed with pink foam bubbles. A couple more gasps and he stopped moving, dead as a proverbial door nail. I checked for a pulse in his throat. Nothing, it was the first time I’d touched a dead man but this one held no negative emotion for me at all. I was seething inside with a burning hot anger.
“Let me introduce you to the security guard,” I said, spitting on his broken corpse.
“I do not like men who abuse women,” Pius stated, also spitting on the dead man. I’d hate to be someone that could generate so much anger in so many in such a short time. “I left Nigeria with my family to get away from that sort of terrible thing.” Pius was glaring at the man as he said his piece. I liked Pius more and more, clearly he was a man after my own heart.
“Thanks, Pius,” I said, tearing my gaze away from the broken piece of crap on the floor.
“It was nothing,” he replied - somehow I really believed his words. I think he might have a story or two to tell about his previous life experiences, and possibly those of his family, but I strongly suspected his lips would always remain sealed.
I hugged Becky, relief flooding me. Her eyes were not filled with relief as I had expected but instead showed a hard flinty look as she stared at the corpse. She broke free of me and hugged Pius.
“Thank you, Pius,” she whispered. “You are a good man. I think I am in your debt once more.”
The big man suddenly looked sheepish. He could crush a man easily when backed into a corner but a woman’s thanks floored him.
“It is nothing, truly,” he replied to her, then looked over at me. “Are there any more of them?”
“Yes. There are two more soldiers hiding behind the desk on the ground floor.”
“Are they like him? Are we in danger from them?”
“I think they are high on something but I don’t think they followed him up here to look for women so maybe he’s the rogue one of the group.”
“Uh, guys,” Becky interrupted.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Look,” she replied pointing at Sneaky Bastard.
We both looked down and saw the fingers of his left hand start to twitch with involuntary movement. Then his right side joined in. An intense spasm jerked through his inert body.
“But…” I began to say but got no further as the crushed body imbued itself with a sort of life force, its head moving from side to side as if it was assessing us, its eyes opening to reveal the usual egg white orbs.
“Holy shit!” I exclaimed. Pius felt for the cross hanging around his neck.
Sneaky Bastard’s eyes were like those of the strange, inhuman people outside. All of a sudden it made sense as to why we hadn’t seen loads of corpses everywhere. They were reviving to turn into zombies. This could only lead me to conclude that whatever it was affecting London’s population was more than a simple infection; if killed, would we all turn into one of these things when we die?
I didn’t get any more time to think on this. The zombie clumsily got to his feet and we backed away from it. It stumbled sideways a little, off-balance like a new-born foal on fresh, unused legs and I saw my chance. As it lined up with the entrance to the stairwell I rushed it and pushed with all my might. The creature rode with my force, its legs flailing to keep it upright. At the top of the stairs I skidded to a halt and its momentum propelled it through the air before finally hitting the staircase a dozen steps or so down. The body bounced bloodily off the walls and went down another two flights before it came to a halt.
In that moment I heard the remaining two squaddies running up the stairs to investigate what was happening. Roaring gunfire erupted next to me as Pius fired Sneaky Bastard’s gun down the stairwell. I jumped back in surprise, shielding my face instinctively from the flashes and noise. I heard a scream from below followed by running feet as the soldiers beat a hasty retreat. Next minute we heard the front door opening and slamming shut. I peered out the window in the stairwell and caught a glimpse of them running hell for leather along Broadway behind the New Scotland Yard building as if the devil himself was behind them. In their panic they bowled over a few zombies who tried in vain to capture the two, before the pair disappeared from view.
“Bastards,” I muttered before turning back to Pius. He was holding the rifle which in his enormous hands looked more like a plastic toy than a real weapon.
*
10 - Once More Unto The Breach
Looking out of the window in the stairwell we could see that the zombie herd had moved away, probably inflicting misery and terror wherever they went.
“Now’s our time to leave this terrible place,” Pius suggested.
“Where are you going?” Vlad asked.
“He has to get to his family in Woolwich,” Becky piped up. “We’re going with him.”
“Can you even do that? Wouldn’t it be safer to stay indoors until all this is over?” Indre asked, her voice quavering with fright at the thought.
“Over, seriously, over?” I replied. “You’re having a laugh, aren’t you? Pretty sure it’s already over, my dear. The world we all knew that is. Anyway, you saw how quickly they got into this building. If there hadn’t been a loft walkway we would have been trapped in your bloody café with them and, well, I think you and I both know what would have happened judging by how that piece of shit came back to life. I think there’s bugger all to wait around for apart from a fucking painful death, which I for one do not have on my bucket list.”
“At least we can outrun them,” Becky agreed, frowning at me. I guess she didn’t like me saying it as I saw it. I guess I was a little harsh with Indre. “We have already done that - more than once.”
Indre whimpered self-pityingly.
“Come on, girl,” Matt, her colleague interjected, putting an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Indre’s withering look as she freed herself from his clutches said everything about their relationship.
“You two had better keep it together once we’re out there,” I told them. “I won’t have your personal problems getting one of us killed. We may be able to outrun them but it won’t be a walk in the park, not by any means.”
“I will not be a problem,” Indre said firmly, through gritted teeth.
“Don’t worry about me, mate. I’ll step up,” Matt retorted arrogantly. Strange, I thought, I hadn’t seen much evidence of that up to now.
“You’d better do so. We won’t wait and I won’t risk one of our lives for yours so we have to stick together. If any of you want to come with Pius, Becky and me then you are welcome but the only decisions that count, at least until we get to his family, are ours.”
Pius raised himself to full height as if affirming my little speech.
“Let us go before we meet anyone else who could pose a threat,” Pius suggested.
“Righto,” I agreed. “You ready, Becks?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
With a look of steely determination she began to descend the stairs, Pius leading the way, gun at the ready. The rest of us followed and I wondered whether seven of us would make it in one piece across the ravaged city.
As we arrived alongside Sneaky Bastard in t
he stairwell I peered at the man. The squaddie’s neck was broken, the head resting unnaturally close to his shoulders. In spite of all this damage his face writhed as it spotted us coming nearer. The teeth clacked in some sort of deathly anticipation and his legs flailed uselessly on the smooth floor. Without hesitating Pius crushed the man’s skull with the rifle’s butt and began searching the corpse’s pockets, recovering a couple of ammo clips and his stash which the big man threw away contemptuously. There was something very unnerving about Pius’ emotionless state at that point and it deflected me from a more pressing matter - the soldier hadn’t been bitten, leaving the reason for his zombie state unanswered. I gave it no more thought at the time.
Coming to the Victorian glass and wrought iron frontage on the ground floor we crouched down and gingerly made our way towards the door. Lying on the ground next to the door was a rifle, bayonet still fixed; one of the drugged-up squaddies must have dropped it in his frightened flight. He must have really been out of it to leave that behind. Pius shared one of the ammo clips he had recovered with me as I picked up the weapon. I pocketed the spare and realised I was going to learn how to use it on the job, so to speak.
I signalled for everyone to stay back and wait as I slowly opened the front door. Fortunately it was on a spring and had slammed shut after the troopers left or we may have had to fight our way through unwelcome guests. Looking down the road in each direction I could see that most of the zombies had cleared off, leaving a few stragglers behind wandering around aimlessly.
The road seemed slick with something I couldn’t recognise - the smell it gave off made up for any visual clues as to what it was. The Zombie Apocalypse taught me that an unfortunate yet normal reaction to death in a human was to release all sphincters, hence why death was rarely the dignified event films mostly portray. Because they were standing up in death their bowels behaved like a bucket with a hole in the bottom, so to speak, spreading faecal matter in their wake. Thousands of them walking down the road were neither a pretty sight nor something to be easily forgotten, especially in the fresh, moist beginning. And I thought what the drone had done was appalling enough! I pulled my head back and shut the door while trying to get my breath back. The others groaned and Indre retched as the odour caught them full in the face.
Zombies! Page 5