He felt Lucy’s hands grip his arm, she pushed herself into him. ‘What are we going to do now?’
Good question he thought. He broke the hold and raced towards the overturned car. Two kicks and the boot spilled its load. Amongst the debris of the drivers belongings a crowbar clanged onto the pavement. He picked it up and headed back towards Lucy.
‘Help me, please,’ he heard from the driver.
‘Fuck you,’ he replied as he moved past Lucy and headed for the undead drunk.
*
If the creature that Frank was advancing on was still in possession of its senses, it would have been running in the opposite direction. Instead, it limped towards him, reaching out as he closed the distance. Instinct had initially told Frank to disable the creatures with hammer blows to the facial area. Experience now told him to hit the creatures in the head, disrupting the corrupt neurons in their infected brains. Frank hit the undead drunk with the crooked end of the steel bar. The forked tip crashed through the cranium ending any transmission. He pulled the bar loose as the body slumped to the floor.
Frank used the weapon with ruthless efficiency, another three undead lay at his feet, he was just breaking a sweat. His tense arm muscles knitted into bulging shoulders. He turned towards Lucy as the man from the car crawled out. He staggered to his feet, blood falling from a nasty eye wound, splintered with broken glass. He pulled himself upright; Frank could see shrapnel buried deep into his leg.
Lucy motioned to move; Frank held her by the elbow. ‘We need to help him,’ she said.
Frank nodded towards the undead female snaking around the crumpled vehicle. ‘He’s finished.’
‘We can’t just leave him.’
‘Have it your way,’ he said, releasing her at the same time he moved in the opposite direction.
The undead woman was almost on him, the moaning from the mass getting closer.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mouthed before turning and catching up to Frank.
The undead female fell onto him, tearing a piece of flesh before they hit the floor. His screams caused Lucy to flinch; she didn’t turn around.
Frank stood still scanning his options. Going forward was out of the question. Going back would put them further from safety. To his right a crowd of undead occupied the road. To his left the sea was a possibility but maybe as his last resort.
Then he remembered the open door. ‘C’mon, we need to get off the road.’ Before she could speak, he pointed the bloodied bar in the direction of the residential home.
‘We don’t know what’s in there,’ she said.
‘I’m hoping it’s a bunch of the infirm that are still in their rooms. Besides it can’t be any worse than what’s out here.’ She conceded without argument.
*
They stopped sprinting as they approached the entrance. Lucy’s breathing was labouring. Frank scanned the entrance hall; he watched the single undead he had seen earlier.
He glanced back to Lucy, ‘Are you OK? You look like shit,’ he said answering his own question.
She gave him the look. The look that said I’ve been attacked, witnessed humans eating each other and I’m stuck with an unsympathetic arsehole – and I’ve been bitten. The bite was stinging.
Frank either ignored the look or just didn’t get it. ‘I feel a bit dizzy and this bite, it’s feeling raw – I think it might be infected.’
Frank examined the wound; it didn’t look good and it smelt rancid. ‘Let’s get inside and see if we can find something to clean it up with.’
He noticed an office down the hall, to the right and twenty metres past the undead. Shit he thought, I’m going to have to kill somebody’s grandmother. He moved swiftly and quiet up the hall, she died without seeing him. He checked the immediate area and office for any others. He went back for Lucy. She was still were he left her, just inside the building. Her health was deteriorating; he put his arm around her waist, locked the door behind them and carried her to the office.
He placed in her in a black leather swivel chair while he searched for a first aid kit. It was situated on a filing cabinet marked confidential. He took the kit back and placed it on the desk next to Lucy, he flipped the catch. All the usual stuff spilled out. He ripped open a couple of cleansing wipes, gloves he thought. He slipped on the powder free gloves and applied the wipe. Lucy grimaced as the antiseptic moisture hit the open wound.
‘Am I going to die,’ she asked.
‘I don’t know,’ he said with honesty.
‘I don’t want to die.’
‘I know… I will do my best to prevent that from happening.’
She touched his arm, ‘if I die will you find my husband and let him know I was thinking of him.’
He placed his hand over hers, ‘of course I will, now be quiet and save your strength.’ He finished the cleansing, not that it had made any difference. The infection seemed to be eating away at her healthy flesh, replacing it with rot and decay – the smell was getting worse. He applied a large dressing to the wound.
He touched her shoulder reassuringly, ‘I am going to ring my daughter, I’ll just be over there I’m not going anywhere.’
She nodded and closed her eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Leeds, Northern UK
‘Saved by the bell,’ joked Jack.
Amy answered her phone, ‘Dad are you OK? The place has gone to shit up here; dead people are roaming around eating people.’
He felt relieved to hear her voice. ‘I’m fine; it’s the same here, the main road is covered in the things. What about you?’
‘We’re good and safe for now behind closed doors.’
‘That’s a relief, you said we. Who have you got with you?’
‘Jack.’
‘Hi Mr Temple,’ whispered Jack into the phone.
Frank rolled his eyes, ‘Is that the same Jack who vomited in my shoe when you both stayed over.’
‘The one and only,’ smiled Amy. Jack smiled back.
‘If you have a breach, throw him into the arms of the first one that enters,’ said Frank seriously. Amy continued to smile, so did Jack.
‘Are you at the shop?’ she asked her Dad.
‘No but I’m not too far away.’
‘Are you in trouble?’ a concerned tone to her voice.
‘No, I’m fine.’
‘Dad, tell me.’
‘It’s nothing to worry about. I’m in a nursing home I think.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I ran into a female jogger who was having trouble with some of the undead, we got cut off and we have had to duck in out of the way.’
‘Can you get back to the shop?’
‘Yes and as soon as I do, I am coming to get you.’
‘And Jack.’ She said.
‘Of course, providing he is quiet and sits in the back.’
She told her Dad about the scuffle with Jen and Kristina. He liked Kristina; she wasn’t a bad kid. He barely knew Jen.
*
Frank got serious, ‘OK Amy you need to barricade the main door with anything that’s heavy. Then do the same with your room door. Don’t make any sound; they seem to be attracted to noise.’
‘Roger that.’
‘Whose Roger,’ asked Jack.
‘Hang on a minute Dad.’
Frank heard what sounded like a slap, ‘Is everything alright,’ he asked.
‘Fine,’ she replied. ‘I was just bringing Jack back into reality.’
Frank softened his voice; it was pouring with emotion when he spoke. ‘Amy, you really do need to stay safe, I will get there and I won’t let you down.’
‘Dad,’ she said softly. You have never let me down, well maybe once when I didn’t get the Jimmy Choo shoes for Christmas.’ She let the humour sink in for a minute, sensing his smile. You’re my dad and I love you.’
He let the final words sink in, ‘Thanks,’ he replied. I’ll get you those shoes first chance I get.’ They both laughed.
‘Will you be OK till I get there, it could be a few hours.’
‘Of course I will, I’m your daughter. Besides, I have Jack as a distraction; he can keep them occupied while I escape.’
Jack looked at her nervously.
‘OK then, you barricade quietly, and I’ll be as quick as I can,’ said Frank.
‘We’re on it now.’
‘I will ring you when I get back to the shop and let you know I’m on my way.
‘Roger,’ she eyed Jack, waiting. Not this time he thought. ‘Do you have Monroe with you?’
‘She is at the shop, no time to mess around so I’ll be bringing her with me.’
‘Can’t wait,’ she said excitedly. ‘I’ve tried ringing mum but she isn’t answering. What are you going to do with your lady friend?’
‘I’ll check on your mum and Phil, knowing them, they are probably still asleep and oblivious. Once I’ve treated her bite wound and got her stable, I will probably drop her off at her home, just a quick detour.’
‘Oh shit Dad if she has been bitten you need to get away from her. Dad, dad, dad…’
Frank looked at his phone, the signal was lost – he didn’t catch Amy’s last words.
*
Amy attempted to ring her dad back several times, each time getting the annoying pre-set voice of his voicemail. At the third attempt she left a message outlining the dangers of a bite and for him to get in touch when he could. She was pacing the floor as she spoke, slightly agitated.
As she turned towards Jack his hand was raised, palm out. ‘What are you going to do with that?’ she said nodding towards his hand.
‘I was going to calm you down.’
‘How?’ she asked already knowing the answer.
‘I was going to slap that pretty face of yours,’ he replied in an over exaggerated accent.
‘Lucky for you that I’m calm.’
He lowered his arm and wrapped both of them around her. ‘You know he’ll be fine, don’t you?’
‘Will he? He doesn’t know what he is dealing with.’
Jack held her at the shoulders and looked into her eyes.’ We’re talking about Frank here, your dad. A man who people cross the road to avoid. If these creatures have any intelligence left they’ll be shuffling in the opposite direction.’ He smiled. ‘I have sleepless nights when you tell me he is coming to visit.’
Her face perked up, ‘He is coming to visit.’
‘I know and if I hadn’t heard him tell you to barricade the door I might have been running down the hallway.’
It made them both laugh.
*
After they had cleared their dead friends into a bedroom, they did a thorough search of the remaining rooms. Ensuring no further dead roommates came lurching towards them. As quietly as possible they moved bedroom furniture behind the main door of their dwellings. They gathered the rest of the food from the kitchen and moved back to Amy’s room.
‘Are we going to barricade the door like your dad said,’ asked Jack.
‘No, we need more than one escape route in case we become comprised.’
‘Shit,’ said Jack. ‘You even sound like him.’
She smiled, even though Jack was being sarcastic she took it as a compliment. ‘I might not know what we have to do to get out of this but I certainly know what we shouldn’t be doing.’
‘Frank will be pissed you haven’t followed his instructions.’
Amy winked at Jack, ‘I’ll tell him it was your idea.’
‘I’m beginning to think I’ll be safer outside.’
‘You can take the piss all you want but when you’re getting chased along the street in your sandals I don’t think your wisecracks are going to help you.’
‘Good point, you got any shoes I can wear?’
Five minutes later Jack stood in front of a full-length mirror turning from side to side. ‘No, definitely no – this isn’t going to work.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘For starters, I look like your twin. Except for the pasty complexion and short legs.’
Amy stood next to him; he was right. ‘You’re dressed for action now. The only thing you were missing before was a rolled-up towel.’
*
Amy was sitting on her bed thumbing her phone, she had made several more attempts to contact her dad without success. The reports scrolling across her laptop were not good. The infection was spreading across all the major cities, news reports were mainly from aerial sources. It was too dangerous for journalists to be on the ground or maybe all of them had been eaten. Wherever the coverage came from the scene was the same, the living running in every direction while the dead closed in around them. Burning buildings, abandoned cars with doors wide open and blood streaks across the road. In one instance the camera crew zoomed in on three dead things consuming a man who was still moving. When another person ran past they diverted their attention and began moving after the live prey. The partly eaten man became motionless for a few minutes before he got up and walked in the direction of the living. It looked like it was a prison that had been overrun.
Amy was unsure if her dad could make it this far or how long her and Jack could last. She hadn’t expected her life to end at such a young age. She got up and looked out the window, both her and Jack were peeking from behind a curtain. She knew she would never make it through the chaos going on around her campus. All the people milling around outside were now dead and looking for food. Another student made a break for it through the crowd but it didn’t last long, he was hunted and devoured before he got to the gates.
Amy felt a nudge, ’Look over there, poor professor Randall is missing the side of his face. He is moving faster than he ever did in the classroom,’ said Jack. The humour was lost on them both as they realised their escape was going to be harder than they appreciated earlier.
‘Listen to me Jack, if this doesn’t go to plan and we have to run for it you need to know how to kill them.’
‘I’m guessing silver bullets or a crucifix won’t cut it.’
‘You’re guessing right. You have to hit them hard in the head to puncture their brain.’
‘Why the brain.’ He asked.
‘I don’t really know to be honest, it stopped Jen and Kristina. I suppose once the brain is stopped the rest of the body follows. It’s what they do in the movies. Do you think we should watch Dawn of the Dead for some tips on what to do?’
‘What help will that do us, it’s a fictional movie.’
‘The next one will be based on a true story,’ she said directing her gaze out the window.
They hadn’t realised while they were talking that they had exposed themselves to the outside world. A crowd of the undead had gathered beneath and stood gawping at them. Amy was convinced that Professor Randall was pointing. They snapped the curtains closed simultaneously and held their breath; grateful they were two floors up. The moaning became louder as the group sang a macabre tune; as they were moving. Amy opened the curtain slightly to see what was developing below. The crowd moved as one towards the entrance and Professor Randall was leading them.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Liverpool, East of the port.
Tom had practiced the art of samurai sword fighting; well he had watched some YouTube videos. After the youths had issued more than enough threats, he had pulled the bigger of the swords from its sheath and jabbed the sharp end into the throat of the biggest and obvious leader of the gang.
‘Take off the masks,’ he told them. The two at the rear did as they were told, the leader stayed defiant.
‘Fuckkkk you lad,’ his accent was way over the top, like metal being dragged across concrete. Tom cold see the youth’s eyes sneering over the top of his bandana mask.
Tom was disgruntled by a number of things. He wasn’t happy that the local shit bags had had the nerve to kick in his front door. He was emotional that the woman he disliked most in life had just told him that she did love him - that was confusing. He wasn’t fond
of a scouse accent at the best of times but when the letter k was never ending at the end of a word - that annoyed him. But worst of all he hated being called lad. He was nearing middle age and a little snot rag was calling him lad.
For a brief moment he thought about giving the shit another chance but seeing as it was the end of civilised society he duly obliged. The sneer disappeared as the sharp edge pierced flesh, sliced through his Adam’s apple and punctured the flesh at the back of his neck. The youth stood for what seemed an age while his brain worked out what had happened, his legs understood a fraction later as they gave way. Tom withdrew the sword as the youth fell to the floor clutching at the gaping wound. He lay on the floor rasping for breath and making a sound much worse than his attempt at speaking English. The smallest of the three pissed himself where he stood. The other had the sense to turn and run.
Tom looked at the pathetic individual squirming around the floor, his stare turned to the now frightened smaller youth. He mouthed the words ‘Run’. The kid turned, slipped in his own piss then bolted out the door.
Tom grabbed the dying youth by the collar and dragged him out the door and left him to continue his dying in the street. A few of the dead neighbours were moving around the street. He closed the gate for added security.
He went back in shut the door to find the lock had been ruined when it was kicked in. He closed it over and used the top and bottom bolts to secure it. He casually walked into the kitchen and flicked the switch on the kettle. He got the digestives out of the cupboard, popped a tea bag into the cup and waited for the kettle to boil. The noise from the kettle helped to drown the noise of the neighbours fighting each other.
He poured the water, dropped in two teaspoons of sugar, added a splash of milk, grabbed the biscuits and sat at the kitchen table. The swords he lay across the table next to him. From his position he could still see Dave and Christine mooching about their garden, the young female police officer was bouncing off them. Her face was a bloody wreckage of raw meat. Her teeth and gums visible were they had gorged on the bottom half of her face. Her uniform was soaked in her own blood.
The Good, The Bad & The Dead | Book 1 | Once Upon A Time In An Undead World Page 13