Ronnie smashed in his face and skull with both boot and axe. He strapped the Glock to his leg, a full mag already loaded and two spare in his body pouch. He put the soldier’s body armour on, a bit tight but good enough. He rummaged through his rucksack. Nothing much of use in there. He was hoping to find some grenades but no luck.
Time to go he thought but the fucking army had other ideas about that. Staying in this village was like fucking Groundhog Day. He thought the Land Rover station wagon he was about to travel in was big until he watched a huge sandy coloured machine came crashing through the blockade. On top a machine gun rattled away. Big Nev dived for cover behind a stone wall, Aaron managed to get behind a tractor but Gareth stood gawping and was cut in half with most of the dead and remaining villagers. Ronnie ran and kicked in the door of the house whose garden he was standing in. The monster truck slammed to a halt in the middle of the village. Two soldiers jumped out and secured the immediate area, putting down any stray dead, the gunner remained on top of the truck. An officer stepped from the truck, another welsh prick Ronnie thought – he was dead wrong.
Chapter Forty-One
Manchester, Salford.
Harry had an idea. He told it to Belly the welder.
‘For fucks sake Harry, you can’t be serious.’ But Belly knew he was.
‘I want you to create an army, maybe two hundred strong – my army,’ said Harry.
‘For fucks sake,’ said Belly repeating himself. ‘I don’t want to go near those things, I’m shitting myself just thinking about them.’
‘It’ll be easy Belly, sorry Benny, some simple welding. Get somebody else, someone you’re not too fond of to do the holding,’ said Harry.
‘If you’re that keen, I can give you a quick welding course,’ said Belly holding back on any humour.
Benny Neil better known as Belly was an overweight man who spent his days snacking on chocolate bars and fizzy drinks. He was almost as wide as he was tall. His overalls were never clean and most weeks he struggled to keep his head above the financial water line. Many years back he went to Harry for a loan and some protection. The loan he paid back with interest. The protection he received was a favour. He was now standing in front of Harry trying to opt out of repaying the favour.
‘Belly,’ said Harry, no apology this time. ‘Who keeps a roof over your head?’
Belly looked at the floor, he couldn’t see much of it. ‘You do H.’
Harry let the familiarity go. ‘Who puts food in that huge stomach of yours?’ Bull laughed.
‘You do H,’ he repeated.
‘Bull, would you explain to Belly the correct way to address a man of my stature.’
Bull stepped forward; Belly stepped back – he didn’t like Bull mainly because he feared him but also because Bull had gone a few rounds in the bedroom with Belly’s girlfriend a few years back.
‘H is reserved for friends, close friends. Harry is for business associates and Mr Flowers is for snivelling shit bags like yourself…you got that?’ he said calmly.
‘I’m sorry H, I mean Mr Flowers. I thought we were friends.’
‘Me too Belly but here you stand denying me a request, a request you owed when you accepted my help.’
‘I’m sorry Mr Flowers but you are asking me to mess about with the dead. Those nasty fuckers bite and spread infection. I don’t want to become one of them,’ said Belly.
Harry nodded. Bull hit Belly hard in the gut. The blow travelled through the layers of fat and caught belly just below the ribs. He thought he was having a heart attack, the air surged from his lips life a burst tyre. He fell to one knee and reached out to Bull for support. Bull shoved his hand away and he fell on all fours.
Harry walked over to Belly and squatted down to his eye level. ‘I’m not asking you Belly; I’m telling you what I want done and I’m telling you I want it done within twenty-four hours.’
‘That’s impossible,’ he spluttered between breaths. Bull moved towards him again. He raised a hand. ‘Or maybe not.’
Harry placed a hand across the chest of the advancing Bull. ‘He’s got the message, help him up.’
‘I’m good,’ said Belly but Bull helped him anyway.
*
Belly had enlisted the help of his brother in law. He had taken Harry’s advice and got somebody he disliked. Ste had been quick to tell Belly about his theories on the dead.
‘They are aliens,’ said Ste.
‘What the fuck are you rambling about,’ replied Belly only half listening.
‘The dead walking about, I believe they are aliens like those Bodysnatchers from the film with the old guy, what’s his name something Sutherland.’
‘Keifer,’ replied Belly.
‘No, that’s his son.’
‘Donald,’ said Belly.
‘Jackpot, that’s the one,’ replied Ste. ‘They did a remake with James Bond in a few years ago.’
‘Which one?’
‘One what?’ Asked Ste.
‘Fucking hell, you started this. Which fucking James Bond because I know you’re not that thick to know that James Bond is a character name.’ Belly was already regretting bringing him along.
Before Ste could answer, the banging on the door shook the shit out of them. Bull laughed. He would be surprised if either of these thick heads got out of this alive.
‘Delivery for the fat man and his apprentice,’ smirked Bull.
‘Isn’t that the fella who shagged our…’
‘Shut the fuck up and get moving,’ he said as he pushed Ste forward.
They pulled the double gates open to allow the truck to reverse in. The beeping of the reversing truck was drowned out by the moaning coming from the back. The truck stopped in the centre of the workshop.
Belly had made one request before he had been manhandled out of Harry’s office. That the captured dead had their hands tied behind their backs, Harry agreed, and Bull complied.
Bull tossed Belly and Ste a couple of extended poles with metal grabs on the end. ‘You’ll be needing these,’ he said.
Belly and Ste looked at each other bemused. ‘I’m only fucking with you.’ He laughed hard again. ‘Jeff and Dave are going to bring the dead over to you while you armour them up.’
‘Where do we put them when we are done?’ Asked Belly.
Right on cue the next truck drove into the workshop. ‘They are going in that,’ said Bull. ‘Harry said to tell you that you were right and two hundred may have been a tad optimistic. There are forty in this truck, we have another two trucks with the same. He said do your best and there is a big bonus waiting for you…as long as you don’t get eaten.’ Bull roared again.
Belly felt his bladder begin to weaken. ‘Why did you have to say the last part?’
‘It was a joke,’ said Bull patting him on the back. ‘Harry didn’t really say it, I was just trying to get you focussed.’
‘I’m fucking focussed, providing I don’t have a stroke first,’ he responded.
‘If you’ve not had a stroke from all the fucking you do you should be fine with this. How is your sister by the way Ste,’ he said with a confident smile.
‘Please fuck off Bull,’ said Belly.
‘As you please,’ replied Bull chuckling as he went.
‘Let’s do this,’ said Ste enthusiastically.
‘Yeah, as soon as I come back from the toilet,’ answered Belly.
He was gone some time.
*
Belly sat slumped on the toilet, pants around his ankles literally shitting himself. He had been contemplating his life and the potential end of it. He thought he heard a scream, feminine, definitely Ste.
‘Oh fuck,’ he whispered to himself. ‘That daft bastard has started without me.’ He started to pull his pants up slowly.
The thud on the toilet door sent a shudder through his body, he was certain this was his last day alive. Another thud, this time louder. He tightened his belt and looked for a weapon.
Belly crept out
of the cubicle, a grubby toilet brush extended in his left hand and his right pulled back ready to fight. He froze with the next thud. He could here moaning. He looked around for an escape route, a window. It was his workshop; he knew neither existed. The next thud was louder.
‘Bennnnnnny,’ he heard in a slurred voice, followed by muffled laughter.
Belly straightened up and walked towards the door. Outside Jeff and Dave stood humourless, they were obviously as nervous as Belly. Ste stood in front of Belly howling at his practical joke.
‘I bet you shit yourself twice in there, didn’t you?’ he chortled.
Belly’s fractured composure returned, ‘I did, have a taste.’
Before Ste realised Belly had rammed the nasty end of the toilet brush into his mouth. Jeff laughed; Dave vomited with Ste.
‘Let that be a lesson learned, you halfwit,’ said Belly. ‘Now stop fucking about and let’s get it done.’ He walked past Ste who was still bent double and retching on to the floor.
‘Bastard,’ he squeaked between heaves.
Belly ignored him, ‘Try not to think of it,’ he said as he walked past Dave who was still throwing up.
*
Twenty minutes later they had one of the dead kneeling in front of Belly. He had been a male, early thirties in rather good shape. His hands had been bound tightly prior to delivery. Belly had made a gag of leather which had been tightly fitted around the snapping jaws. The creatures clothing had been removed from its upper torso. The three others held it down.
Harry had been specific about the design. He wanted the head encased in metal. Not a helmet, he didn’t want something that could easily be knocked off in combat, he wanted something attached to the skull, something that would give his army a fighting chance. What Barry had created was a monstrosity. The dead creature watched him with milky eyes as he lowered the casing onto its head. It was a little loose until Belly secured it with several rivets on all sides. The monster felt no pain. Belly instructed Jeff to complete the set up. Jeff looked the strongest and he had already proved he had a strong stomach. Jeff had the hardest job, it’s not easy shoving metal spikes through flesh and bone. They managed three an hour. The hardest part was getting them back into the truck.
They took a break with two left to do. ‘That was fucking hard work,’ said Ste.
Jeff shot him a look, ‘You had the easy part and you only had to hold the dead fucks.’
‘Ok, everyone take it easy,’ said Belly. ‘We are all a bit knackered. It was a good effort by everyone.’
‘What is Harry going to do with them?’ asked Dave wiping sweat and other fluids from his face.
‘I have no idea,’ replied Belly.
‘You didn’t ask?’ enquired Ste.
‘No I did not ask,’ said Belly. ‘I didn’t want to know and besides questioning Harry Flowers is a sure way to getting some teeth knocked down your throat.’ They nodded in agreement.
‘I’ll get some beers,’ said Dave.
‘Not for me,’ said Jeff. ‘I want a clear head till this is over.’
‘I’ll have one,’ said Belly. ‘I still need to tell Harry he won’t be getting the rest tonight.’
‘I’ll get you two,’ replied Dave.
‘Where are you going?’ Belly asked Ste.
‘Just going to take a look at what we have left in the truck.’
‘You mean you are going to get a better look at the tits on the dead woman,’ said Belly.
‘You know me well,’ he chuckled. ‘She was a looker when she was alive, not that bad now actually.’ He laughed again.
‘Don’t get your dick stuck in her, there isn’t any anti-biotics to cure what she has,’ said Belly.
Dave chuckled as he handed the beers out. ‘I got you one anyway,’ he said passing one to Jeff.
‘Why not,’ he replied now the mood was much lighter.
Belly, Jeff and Dave sat round talking about the end of the world. Ste grabbed a beer and swaggered around the back of the truck. The two remaining dead were an older man who had multiple bite marks and a gaping hole the size of a fist in his neck. The other was a previously attractive blonde woman with curves in the right places. Her grey business suit suggested she had been successful. She was the most aggressive of the pair, charging forward only to be restrained by her bounds. As well as her hands tied behind her back, she was also secured by a rope to the side of the truck.
Ste chugged down his beer in one gulp, a seasoned professional when it came to drink. A novice when it came to women. He tossed the bottle and climbed in the back. The dead blonde became more vicious, lurching forward uncontrollably.
Ste gave a nervous laugh, ‘Oooh you’re wild for me. My type of woman, I bet you’re a milf.’
She lurched forward again, inches from Ste. He held out his cupped hands. ‘Nice and firm,’ he said as he pressed his hands into the dead woman’s breasts. ‘Fake or rigor mortis,’ he said to her laughing.
The dead man in the back of the truck began to moan. The blonde woman surged forward again. Ste grabbed a hold again. ‘Sorry mate,’ he said to the dead man. I’m not into threesome’s, what type of perv do you think I am?’
When she came forward again the worn rope snapped. She flew into the cupped hands of Ste, the force sent them both staggering backwards, her face close enough to his for him to smell her rancid breath.
Ste roared with laughter, ‘No kissing,’ he said as she snapped her jaws at him. He kept his hands firmly in place, confident that the dead woman’s were still bound.
Still locked in his fantasy, it was too late by the time he realised that he was wrong. He felt her hands crawl up his body. ‘Oh shit,’ he said before she clamped her torn mouth over his and gave him a kiss he would forget soon enough.
*
Dave dropped his bottle when he heard the piercing shriek erupt from the back of the truck.
‘Wanker,’ said Belly. ‘I’ll shove that toilet brush right down his neck.’
‘That scream sounded real,’ said Jeff.
‘He can piss off if he thinks I am falling for that again.’
Another scream, this one louder and more convincing than the last. Belly stood, quickly followed by the others. ‘Grab something heavy,’ he said to them both.
Dave picked up a hammer, Jeff clutched an iron bar and Belly picked up a huge spanner. They moved forward as one. Belly popped his head around the back of the truck.
‘Wanker,’ he said out loud.
‘Is that prick fucking about again,’ said Jeff.
‘Not this time,’ said Belly. ‘The blonde is eating his face.’
They all stepped around to see the dead woman devouring Ste’s face. His lips had gone, and she was clamping down on his nose.
‘Helph me,’ he pleaded.
‘What’s he saying,’ asked Dave.
‘The thick fuck is asking us to help him,’ said Belly. Jeff moved but Belly put a hand across to stop him. ‘There’s no point, he is done for. He’ll be one of those soon.’
‘What are we going to do?’ asked Dave.
‘The same as what we did to the rest,’ he said calmly.
‘He’s your brother in law,’ said Jeff.
‘Do you like all of your in laws?’ He asked.
‘Fair enough,’ replied Jeff.
‘Shit,’ said Dave as he diverted the others attention to the blonde woman. She had stopped eating Ste and glared at the other three.
In their haste to retreat, Dave tripped, Belly fell over him and sent Jeff sprawling into the back of the other truck. Jeff flailed his arms in a desperate attempt to save himself from falling. His hand knocked the bolt and the door swung open of the full truck. Belly looked up to see his monstrosities looking down on him. They all groaned in unison, then they tipped off the end of the truck. Jeff was impaled by several of the falling dead, he was the lucky one.
Dave stumbled to his feet and backed away. The dead blonde landed on his back and bit into his neck. Blood pumped o
ut from the severed artery, he felt weak and slumped to the floor.
Belly looked on as the armoured dead advanced towards him, his heavy breathing attracted the attention of the dead woman. Ste hung out the back of the truck, their eyes meeting one last time before death embraced them both.
Chapter Forty-Two
Somewhere, North, UK.
Miles sat comfortably in the wheelchair; the performance he gave was one of obedience and indolence. While his body showed the effects of the drugs he had supposedly taken, his mind didn’t – that was in overdrive. He suppressed the smile that came when he thought of the shock that would spread across Dr Martin’s face when he leapt from the chair. He had waited a long time for this moment.
He had never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it and he didn’t really want to start now, he hoped that Gerry didn’t interfere. The effects of the drug caused Miles’s head to hang forward with his chin resting on his chest, he was playing the part. He gave his eyes the vacant look, occasionally focusing to see what all the drama inside the facility was about. Gerry’s pace was quickening, an alarm went off at the inner boundaries. Protocol stated that Gerry had to stay with his patient, he obeyed.
An announcement boomed across the ceiling, ‘All available personnel to the visitors infirmary, we have a level two situation.’
Level two represented a fight between inmates or an orderly being attacked. Gerry was very capable of dealing with either; usually his size was enough to deter most inmates, although on a few occasions some of the crazier ones had insisted on testing him. He was in two minds about taking Miles back to the prep cell, someone might be getting hurt. He decided to shift his arse up a gear and almost took out another orderly at the next corner. The orderly skidded to a halt, almost toppling Miles from the chair.
‘What’s happening?’ Said Gerry.
‘Jesus Gerry, you almost put me in the infirmary,’ snapped the orderly.
‘Yeah sorry about that, I’m in a rush to get Miles to the doc so I can help out - What’s going on?’
The orderly was a good six inches shorter that Gerry, ‘Some guy had a heart attack, dead they said. A few minutes later he sat up and attacked Sally, took a bite out of her.’
The Good, The Bad & The Dead | Book 1 | Once Upon A Time In An Undead World Page 19