Amy held firm and stayed calm, ‘Hit the fucker on the fingers,’ she said to Jack.
He got to his feet and aimed the bat, when he saw the others charging forward, he stalled.
‘Fucking hit it,’ screamed Amy.
His aim was straight, the impact hard. Three fingers separated from the hand and the grip was lost. Amy managed to close the door as the rest gained. They banged on the door. She stood up and pulled Jack towards the next door. The creatures continued to moan and thump the wooden door. The next door was closed but something had been awoken and it banged in unison with the others.
They reached the fire safety door at the end of the corridor, they both looked through a glass panel – all clear. Amy moved towards the stairwell; Jack went in the other direction. She knew she had made herself clear earlier but somewhere along their path he had forgotten what she had told him. She turned too late to stop him.
‘Jack, no.’
He turned his head towards her as his finger pushed the button. The lifts in the accommodation block were renowned for their speed. As the doors opened the dead creature lunged for him, catching him around the neck. Jack stumbled backwards as they both crashed to the floor. He could smell the rancid breath of death on his face. The bat landed inches from Amy.
Her first instinct was to cave the creature’s skull in but through the opposite fire doors she could see a group of dead advancing towards them. She grabbed the bat and rushed past Jack.
‘Hang on Jack, I think we’re fucked.’
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Liverpool, East of the port.
Many times in Tom’s life he often thought of this day. Not this day in particular but the one were his mother was no longer breathing. He had listened to her insulting remarks, her venomous insults and her overuse of clichés. He had wished her dead on many occasions, sometimes painful deaths other times he just wished she wouldn’t wake up.
Now he stood in front of her, her skin mottled, one white eye, the other dead years ago. She still looked as angry in death as she had done in life. All the hostility she had shown him over the years remained – he knew it was the infection that controlled her anger now. Those words she had left him with had made him vulnerable.
He knew she was gone and not coming back but he could not end her life. He knew she was dead and moving towards him, he knew that there was no hope but still he could not bring himself to puncturing her brain. She lurched forward towards him, he side stepped and watched as she staggered past him. She growled and made another lunge, again he moved but this time he pushed her to the floor.
‘Stay down you stubborn old cow, I don’t want to hurt you.’
She hissed back at him, no change there then. He found himself trying to reason with her, she had never listened to him in life when she knew he was her son, now she wanted his flesh. She didn’t know why she wanted it.
The police officer was advancing towards him. Christine was using Dave’s body as she pushed herself up. Dave attempted to wriggle free, but Christine’s weight pushed him further into the grass. Tom had seen enough. He dodged his mother’s outstretched claw as she reached for him.
He approached the officer as she reached out for him. He took the smaller of his swords and with a practiced motion he drove the point through her chin and upwards. The blade pushed through flesh and bone, splitting her tongue on its way up. Dark fluid that looked like blood but smelt like shit erupted from her mouth and nose as the blade continued. She stopped moving when the sharp end punctured her brain. He slid the knife out as she toppled to the side. Christine was almost upright when he rammed the same blade through her ear. She landed in a heap on top of Dave.
‘Good night Dave,’ said Tom as he stomped his boot through his skull.
His mother was still on the ground, her dodgy knee stopped her from getting up on her own. She crawled towards Tom. He turned towards Christine’s house, closed her door so other marauding dead couldn’t wander into his garden. He headed back to his mother. Several of the other dead neighbours in adjoining gardens were trying to reach through their fences. He dispatched the ones that posed immediate risk, he didn’t want them falling through.
He retrieved a garden chair from the shed and pulled down the washing line. He put on the thick gardening gloves, pushed his foot into his mother’s back and bound her hands. He lifted her, then dropped her into the chair and bound her with the rest of the line. He was about to sit opposite his mother when he heard the front door crash through for a second time. He stood motionless waiting for the chaos to find him.
A large man in both height and girth barged through the kitchen and into the garden. He was pointing a baseball bat in the direction of Tom and saying something inaudible.
Tom yawned, his mother groaned, the man said something else and a youth stepped out from behind him. Tom rolled his eyes.
‘Is that the prick who stabbed yer brother?’ He growled.
‘Yeah, that’s him dad. He stabbed him in the throat for no reason and threw him out to be eaten.’
Before the man could respond, Tom spoke. ‘Remove yourself from my garden, I don’t want to hear about your son or any shit that might be on your mind. Your son got what he deserved, granted, him being eaten might have been a tad overkill but I wasn’t thinking straight…I had just lost my mother,’ he said pointing to the creature tied up.
‘Is that your ma?’ he said pointing the bat in her direction.
Tom understood a threat when he heard one. He also realised his mistake. The man was five steps from his mother, Tom was twice as many away.
He told his mother he loved her as the bat began to swing. She didn’t understand him, but he did if for his benefit. The bat crunched into her skull with force. The man must have been close to two hundred pound. Her skull cracked, then shattered. Her good eye popped; her left cheek exploded in a mist of crimson. Her second death was instant, and pain free Tom imagined.
Tom would have thanked the man for saving him the job if he hadn’t had taken pleasure from it. He turned to his son ‘Did you see the way the old girls head split,’ he was laughing as he said it.
‘Dad,’ said the kid as he looked past him.
Tom stood directly behind the man. He was calm on the outside but internally a fire burned so intense that there was only going to be one outcome.
The man turned slowly to see Tom smiling. It was a smile that sent a shiver right down his spine. The small sword sent a shiver through his stomach. The man’s guts were hitting his feet before he realised what had happened. His legs bucked and he fell to his knees. Tom sliced his throat and he fell face first onto the lawn.
He stepped over the man and grabbed the kid by the throat. ‘Do you have any more family?’ he asked.
The kid nodded, ‘Two older brothers and my mum.’
‘This will be your last chance. So far, you’ve lost a brother and a dad. If you come back here with any more of your family, I will kill all of you…do you understand me?’
The kid nodded again. ‘Right then, piss off and let me bury my mother in peace. Try not to get eaten on your way home.’
He let the kid go, picked up the bat and smashed in the dead man’s skull. He heard the kid scream, a panicked scream. He looked through the kitchen window.
‘Fucking fantastic’, he said to himself as he watched two dead things eating the kid. At least another dozen were trying to barge their way through. He picked up his swords and gave the dead man a sturdy kick in the ribs as he headed into the house.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Seaforth, The Lakeside Hotel.
The shriek that erupted from Claudia’s mouth startled Ben and prompted Cecil. He stopped chewing on Bernie and focused on the two fresh meals in front of him. His gluttony in life was his downfall in death. He had fallen on Bernie with ease, getting off him was impossible. He looked at Claudia with approving eyes all be it for different reasons now. What life Bernie had left in him was slowly being pushed out of
him as Cecil lifted and fell pretty much in the same motion. Blood pumped from his neck wound and the air was forced from his lungs.
Claudia’s instincts were to help Bernie, Ben stopped her as she moved forward. ‘We have to help him,’ she said unconvincingly.
‘He was done the moment he was bitten, there is no cure for that. If we roll your boyfriend off, we’ll be fighting two dead monsters…look.’
The blood loss and crushing weight had taken Bernie, he was now a fog eyed creature staring back up at them. Claudia stepped back; all this was new to her. Ben gave her the brief version of events and what getting bitten meant. Ben was prepared for her next shriek. It was the banging on the doors that made him jump.
Claudia jumped to, almost into Ben’s arms. ‘We need to get out of here…I need to get out of here,’ she said as she grabbed Ben’s hands.
Ben tried to calm her, ‘Those dead things can’t open doors…I hope,’ he said as an afterthought that crept out of his mouth. ‘We are safer here at the moment,’ he said with less certainty than his previous statement.
‘Safe, look behind you,’ she said pointing in the direction of Bernie and Cecil who were now locked in other circumstances an amusing embrace. Their current circumstance was far from amusing and what she was looking at was two dead creatures trying to right themselves. Fortunately, one was to overweight to get up and the other was too weak to get it off.
‘What I mean is, these two are not going anywhere. The two dozen or so on the other side of those doors are mobile and plenty’.
‘We could fight our way through,’ she replied.
‘By we, you mean me?’ He asked.
‘You are the man,’ she replied with a hint of flirtatiousness.
‘Yep, well spotted and I am all for gender equality,’ he replied offering her the hammer. Bernie reached out, brushing his ankle. Then he realised and stove in Cecil and Bernie’s brains. Claudia flinched with each crushing blow.
She had seen some things in her life but nothing quite as brutal and final as a hammer crashing through bone and brain. ‘Was that necessary?’
‘Yes,’ he replied flatly.
‘What do we do now?’ She asked.
‘Secure the doors, find a way out and drive off in Bernie’s car.’ He replied. ‘Unless you have a better plan?’.
‘No, I like yours.’
‘Good,’ he replied as he rolled Cecil off Bernie. He searched his pockets and found his keys, he tossed them to Claudia while he removed the belts from both dead men.
Claudia looked at him curiously. ‘I’m going to secure the doors with them,’ said Ben.
‘Good idea, what should I do?’
‘See if you can find another way out, emergency exit, fire escape…anything like that.’
Ben headed cautiously towards the double doors, hammer raised; the groaning was barely audible, but the door slapping was nerve shredding. The double doors consisted of solid wood, made to look like panelled oak but not quite managing the trick. A thin piece of frosted glass decorated each door, just enough for Ben to see sufficient shadows on the other side to give him the heebie jeebies.
He slid the hammer into his own belt and proceeded to lace the first belt through the long-barred door handles. He was controlling his breathing spectacularly while his heart threatened to jump out of his chest. The dead on the other side of the door were not aware that he was even there.
Not until Claudia shouted along the corridor that she had found a fire escape, an unlocked window and a crowd of the dead at the bottom of the stairs.
Pure bad luck followed. Ben bumped the door. The dead became more animated. The dead thing with its face pressed against the glass began to flail its arms in excitement. It’s hand snagged the door handle and as it leaned back the door opened slightly. Ben was about to buckle the belt. The door movement caused him to panic. The door closed. The belt became loose. The door opened again; Ben pulled it shut. He grabbed the belt, ready to tighten it again.
‘Hurry up will you,’ shouted Claudia.
Ben panicked more. When the door opened again, which was inevitable, a dead creature reached through and made a grab for him.
He felt and smelt the hand of a corpse that may have walked straight out of the sea get a firm hold on his collar. He made a Bernie-like sound, the type of sound that makes you grateful that no other person is close by, the dead don’t count. A noise like a puppy whining for its mother.
‘What?’ shouted Claudia. The noise was obviously louder than he thought.
He gained some composure while jerking his head out of arms reach. He looped the belt again and barely managed to get the buckle pin through the third hole before another hand shot through. It was followed by several more. A dead creature must have fell over on the other side as a mottled hand, arm and snapping jaw peered through at knee height.
Ben stepped back. The belt was holding on like a fingertip straining on a cliff edge. More hands were reaching through the door now, he couldn’t chance securing the buckle. He lashed the other belt through the handles where no snarled hands groped.
The difference in circumference area between Bernie and Cecil was significant. Standing upright, Bernie would have been invisible behind Cecil’s bulk. The first belt that Ben had almost secured was Cecil’s, the belt had had a hard life. Bernie’s belt didn’t get anywhere near the straining handles.
Ben kneeled in front of the doors and the snarling dead holding a useless belt that resembled a lifeless snake trying to fathom a plan B. Claudia’s well-manicured hand halted the process the moment she touched his shoulder. He screamed, she screamed, the dead screamed, and the buckle pin popped. The rest was like slow motion.
Ben reached for the belt as the tip left the safety of the buckle. The belt fluttered to the floor as the dead who were also caught by surprise toppled through the door, tripping over the one crawling. He side-stepped Claudia out of the way as they fell through.
‘Run,’ was his only word as he pushed Claudia in the direction of their escape.
She didn’t need to hear it a second time. She took off up the corridor, Ben following closely. The dead began to stand and follow. Claudia was about to head into the room they had previously occupied, Ben pulled her forward towards their plan A. They reached the end of the corridor and the open window. Claudia climbed through, un-lady-like, Ben followed, pushing the window shut…he took in a deep breath.
The dead arrived at the window, snarling, disfigured and rotting. Several of them slapped the window together. The window pushed outwards. Claudia and Ben reacted simultaneously and pushed the window closed again.
Ben wondered if Plan A was actually a good plan to start with. The dead had been on the other side of a door while they had a nice comfortable room with a mini bar. Now they were outside, it was a bit chilly, the dead were staring at them playing a game of push and shove.
Then the rain started again.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Cheetwood, Manchester, Central UK.
Eddie was feeling hurt like he had never experienced or thought possible. His hand was trembling, the gun still smoking. The moans of the dead had grown louder but Eddie could barely hear them. His eyes were still trained on his dead brother lying spread-eagled in the middle of the kitchen. He believed he had killed him twice, last night when he left without him and right now. He could feel the pain turning into anger, a rage welling up inside him. He wasn’t known for thought before action. He tightened his grip on the machete and he waited.
The door splintered as three of the dead fell inside. They struggled to right themselves as two more shuffled in. Eddie regarded these creatures as the reason his brother was dead. The machete was razor sharp as it removed the top of a skull as though it was a boiled egg. The creature slumped on top of the others knocking them over again. The second dead creature he hit with such force he was fortunate the machete didn’t stay embedded in its head. He slashed at the others pulling themselves up as more poured through
the broken door.
The creatures were not absent of all intelligence, one of the fallen had seen the gap beneath the table and moved towards Eddie’s legs. His rage remained but his energy was failing as his blows became glancing more than damaging. At least a half dozen reached across the table for him with at least double that queuing outside. The bloody hand reached out and cupped his ankle. He felt his own skin crawl.
He tried to shake his leg free, the creature had a good grip. It pulled itself closer with gaping jaws. Eddie yanked his leg harder and kicked the creature with force, square in the face. It didn’t cry out, but it did let go. He stomped the rest of its face in until it remained still. The standing creatures became more active and reached out in unison, the table moved. Several more were able to pour in. Tommy Makin’s body was lost in the heave of advancing monsters. Eddie retreated from the kitchen, he pulled the fridge freezer across the doorway as a makeshift barricade and to buy himself some time. He still had the car keys in his pocket. His plan was to slip quietly out the front door. A hungry face with dead eyes and a bloody grin stared back through the frosted glass.
‘Fuck, fuck,’ he screamed. He searched the house for his next move.
‘Eddie, you bastard don’t you dare leave me here with him.’ Laura had no idea what was happening downstairs. ‘Eddie, I know you’re there, come back and let me go you fucking scumbag.’
Eddie was too busy dragging the sofa from the living room into the hall to concern himself with her insults. He placed the obstacle across the front door, threw on some chairs and created a worthy barricade. He jumped up on top and over on to the stairs, it wouldn’t hold them forever, but it would give him time to find another exit.
The Good, The Bad & The Dead | Book 1 | Once Upon A Time In An Undead World Page 17