Becky was unsure herself.
*
Ronnie smashed another savage blow into the face of Derek. At the rate he was being punched and his face swelling he would be unrecognisable.
‘Please stop hitting me,’ he cried.
Ronnie kicked him hard in the backside. ‘Lucky for you I need you to steer this, otherwise I would throw you overboard.’
‘I could show you,’ he whimpered. ‘It’s not difficult.’
‘Get up and show me then,’ demanded Ronnie.
They both turned as Aaron whistled, several of the dead were heading in his direction. Jane had been kind enough to leave him with his own axe. He picked up Ronnie’s and wielded them both.
‘Ok, said Derek. ‘Let’s get started. Firstly you want to check that you have a clear workspace, no trip hazards or anything rolling about that could cause an accident.’
‘Just tell me how to start, steer and move the fucking boat, growled Ronnie.
‘It’s really just like driving a car,’ he said enthusiastically.
He mentioned, gearbox, throttle, ignition, wheel and most importantly raising the anchor and untying the boat before moving off. Ronnie was satisfied he knew what he was doing. He ran through it a couple of times with Derek. He had a quick scout around the boat for any food. He found water, soft drinks, tea, coffee, biscuits and other diabetes threatening snacks…it would have to do.
‘Do you think we should go back for Becky and the kids?’ Asked Derek.
Derek flew overboard and hit the cold-water face first again. ‘It’s your family, do what you want.’
Aaron was struggling with the dead. He had managed to kill a half dozen with precise headshots. He was tiring, they weren’t. he looked over to Ronnie.
They both knew it was time to go their separate ways.
Jane had found herself a safe spot to watch how things played out. Ronnie was going alone; Aaron was likely to be eaten any time soon. Derek would hopefully drown. Becky and the kids…she didn’t need this drama, she worked better on her own. They would slow her down, get her killed.
‘Fuck,’ she said.
*
Ronnie set the river cruiser in forward motion, he pulled away slowly from the jetty, he heard Aaron call his name. it was more scream and full of panic. He had done a good job of staying alive, most of the first group were lying in a bloody mess on the floor around him. Unfortunately the commotion had attracted a horde.
Ronnie was indifferent to Aaron’s predicament. He had used the young lad to get as far as possible, it was never a long-term relationship…only Aaron was unaware of this, even Jane could see it.
Derek swam towards land with efficiency of a practised swimmer. Aaron called out to him.
‘Over here Derek, grab an axe and help me out,’ he shouted.
Derek was aware of what waited for him. He pushed forward towards Aaron. He grabbed hold of the side of the prom; Aaron reached down to give him a hand. ‘Pass me the axe,’ he said to Aaron.
Aaron was too focused on the dead or naïve to realise. He gave Derek the axe that Ronnie had left. Derek pushed himself away from the embankment and drifted into the middle of the river. He planned to let the estuary flow take him back to the barge.
‘You, fucking wankers,’ shouted Aaron in the direction of both Derek and Ronnie.
Neither of them cared, Ronnie was heading home to his brothers, Derek thought he would head back towards Becky and her brats…Jane had other ideas.
Aaron fought until his death, then he stood back up and followed the crowd.
*
Jane had been holidaying with her husband. They had argued, just like they always did and as usual he stormed out, no doubt he would be back pissed and with an attitude. The man had been a bastard in his life, a controlling bastard, a bullying bastard – now he was a dead bastard. She had feared him in life. She had known him for what he was. When it broke on the news about the dead walking about she had half expected him to come crashing through the door, grab some supplies and lock himself in the loft until the trouble had passed.
The half she had got right was when he did come screeching through the front door holding his neck and wailing like a kid who had fallen over. Jane had remained calm; she had watched the news and she knew her husband’s fate. Oh well she thought. He was charging about the lodge looking for something to stem the flow of blood. If he had had the sense to calm down he would have noticed the blood had stopped flowing and just a trickle oozed now as the infection was taking hold.
He crashed about the kitchen searching for a cloth of some kind. His high-pitched snivelling was getting on Jane’s nerves, to be fair his breathing got on her nerves. She handed him a towel, mainly to stop the whimpering noise coming from his mouth. He didn’t thank her; he just took like everything else in their relationship.
She had long since switched off to his inconsiderate actions. The time he spent in prison had weakened him and hardened her. She was simply giving it a go, or more aptly she was waiting to go. When he had returned home he had promised to change, things would be different. She hadn’t believed him; she was right not to. This so-called holiday would be the time she told him she was leaving. She had planned back home with a friend to move her belongings while she was away. She didn’t want a lot just the sentimental stuff.
His requests soon became demands. He told her she would need to leave her modelling job and that he would support her. She told him to fuck off, he got in her face - she stood her ground. He had only been out of prison for six weeks and it was unbearable, she had told him she was going. He had pleaded with her, she ignored him. He grabbed her wrist and made threats, twisting harder each time she grimaced. He had been in prison for three and a half years, half his sentence for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, then rolling over on the others. He didn’t really know his wife anymore.
That was then and this is now.
‘We need to hide,’ he sobbed.
‘I’m not hiding,’ said Jane.
‘There’s fucking monsters everywhere outside, we need to get some supplies and hide out in the loft. We’ll be safe till it’s all over.’
Jane smiled to herself, the man was predictable. ‘It won’t be over, the country is overrun and as you put it, the monsters are eating everyone,’ she replied.
‘One of the bastards took a chunk out of me, I’ll be fine though - it’s stopped bleeding.’
‘No you won’t,’ said Jane as a matter of fact. ‘According to the news you’re going to turn into one of those things.’
‘What, that’s not true – you’re just trying to wind me up.’ For the first time since his rapid entry into the house he noticed Jane’s attire. ‘We’re are you going?’ he asked.
‘Away from you, alive or dead,’ she replied bluntly. Jane was dressed for action. Tight jeans over a tight body, boots, a thick sweater and a leather jacket completed the outfit. Her long red hair was tied in a ponytail. Her dark eyes indicated menace.
‘No you’re fucking not,’ he replied instantly.
How predictable…
After their last altercation, Jane was more than certain she could take him in a physical fight however she didn’t want any of that zombie shit on her. She had trained solid for three years, she had played possum for the past six weeks, until now.
The cast iron skillet hit him with force across the side of his face. He staggered backwards then stumbled forward, she returned serve with a back-hand smash across the other side of his face. He lurched backwards again, arms flaying as he pirouetted into a dated armchair. He mumbled something as his eyes rolled about his head.
Jane thought about it for a second, ‘Oh well, one for luck,’ she said as she brought the force of the pan down onto her husband’s head. She didn’t know if she had killed him or not… she cared less. She left him where he lay and exited the house. Twenty minutes later she was flying through the air and into freezing water.
*
Jane kne
w exactly what an abusive and bullying man looked like and she could see one paddling towards his prey. Jane would have to fight her way through some of the dead to get back to the barge. Derek was swimming with a current, he would get there first unless he drowned. That didn’t look likely as he displayed confidence in his ability. She climbed down from the roof of the steakhouse; she had been hidden by the huge chimney stack. She could try and go the long way around but ran the risk of running into more of the dead than she could handle.
Her other option was to run straight through the gathering that had claimed Aaron into their ranks. She flexed her wrist as she moved her axe around. She pulled a six-inch blade from her boot. She made her move.
She charged at the group of dead, the first reached out, a woman older than her, bloated and mottled. Jane ducked out of her reach and slammed the axe into the back of her skull. She pierced the eye of another before the woman hit the floor. She went low as the next dead creature reached out, taking it’s knee out. She left it crawling about the floor. As she came up she drew level with Aaron. His face was a mess, half of it had gone. His glazed eye looked at her without recognition. She rammed the blade into his temple, mercy was granted as he slipped from the world for the final time.
She kicked out hitting a middle-aged dead man square in the chest with her raised foot, he crashed backwards toppling another two of the dead. She finished the three of them off quickly. A few more hacks and stabs and she was through the worst of the crowd. A few stragglers were easy to end. More of the dead continued to pour in from the main road. She charged up the stone steps and the bridge that once formed part of the city’s defences. Ronnie had done a good job of clearing the path earlier. A dead man reached out for her, she side stepped him, and shoulder barged him over the wall, he hit the cobbled floor below with a crunch.
She stopped to assess the situation. There were enough dead back on the road to delay her getting to the boat in time. She watched as Derek’s hand appeared over the side of the boat, he hauled himself up and over. Jane surprised herself at how fast she hit and destroyed the dead barring her path. She got to the boat just as she heard Becky scream.
*
If Derek had expected open arms when he arrived back, he was disappointed. Skye and Ethan had been quite vocal about the dislike of him. Becky listened, cried and got angry when he appeared back at the boat.
‘You bastard,’ she spat.
‘What’s happened?’ He asked.
‘You can drop the act; the kids have told me…I trusted you.’
Derek noticed the kids shrinking behind their mother. ‘I was only administering some discipline. They needed a father figure,’ he smirked.
‘You’re not my father,’ said Skye.
‘She has a quick mouth,’ said Derek. ‘You’re a weak mother Becky. You’re two little brats have too much to say at times. Nothing a stiff back hand wouldn’t cure,’ he added.
‘Don’t you dare lay a finger on my kids. We are done, leave us alone,’ yapped Becky. Derek’s mask slipped, it terrified Becky, she had never experienced the ‘real’ Derek.
He moved quickly, much faster than she could have imagined. The slap to her face stung, her legs buckled. Ethan stepped forward, ‘You leave my mum alone,’ he said with a shaky voice. He caught the next slap hard in the mouth. Blood spurted from his split lip. Becky pulled him in tight, she sobbed with him. Skye wrapped her arms around them both. She glared at Derek defiantly.
Derek grinned, ‘Let’s look at the options,’ he said. ‘We can all live on the boat happily, well for the time being. Or I can go down the bachelor route and you three can take your chances outside. If you want to be part of this family, you will need to start showing me some respect,’ he shouted.
‘Let’s go with option three,’ said Jane who was standing behind him. Becky and the kids looked around Derek. Skye smiled; Jane winked back. ‘That involves you showing some respect and getting your abusive arse off this boat.’
Derek turned slowly; he was calculating his next move. Jane was ahead of him. ‘Piss off my boat, bitch.’
Jane jabbed a straight left into his mouth, followed by a swinging right and another double left combo. Derek spat a front tooth out as he staggered to the side. He mumbled something, so Jane broke his nose.
He lumbered towards her, she side stepped easily, bringing up her knee into his ribs as he sailed past. He slid across the small deck. His breathing was laboured, Jane cracked her neck side to side.
‘How are you doing kids?’ she asked. ‘Don’t be frightened, I’m just teaching Derek some manners…shouldn’t be much longer.’
‘We’re good,’ said Skye. ‘Take as long as long as you want, I think he needs a good teaching.’
Jane smiled; Derek roared. Round Two.
Derek charged; he was around the same height as Jane. She was athletic, he was more couch potato. She had nowhere to manoeuvre so she embraced his attack. His shoulder took the wind from her slightly as it smacked into her abdomen. She had expected it, after the impact she braced her leg against the boat and stopped his momentum. She dropped her elbows into his shoulders and raised her knee into his face…they both heard several cracks.
Derek lay sprawled across the deck. Most of his face was broke and swollen. Jane sat down to reserve her energy. ‘My advice would be to stay down and try to get as much breath in your lungs before I throw you overboard,’ said Jane.
The thud caused her to stand up straight. Several more thuds and a couple of splashes caused panic on the boat. The noise had attracted the dead. They were tumbling off the bridge overhead. Some were hitting their target, others were missing and floating down the River Dee. The ones that landed were coming for her. She snatched up her axe and pulled the knife from her boot and moved towards the first of the dead. Derek reached out and grabbed her foot. She stumbled but stayed upright, she tried to shake free of his grasp. She stepped back and pulled her foot from his hand. Becky stepped from the cabin as the first of the dead moved in.
‘Nooooo,’ screamed Jane but she was too late with her warning. Becky walked straight into its arms and mouth. Becky fell to the floor clutching her face as the dead fell upon her. Jane massacred the dead swiftly. Becky was gone. Skye and Ethan were screaming for their mother, the noise was attracting more of the dead.
Thud, splash, thud, splash…it was constant.
*
Jane let the river take her downstream a couple of hundred metres. She pulled herself onto the riverbank and screamed…she screamed for some time.
*
She pulled herself together after what seemed an eternity. She fought hard to block the images of the boat from her thoughts, it was proving impossible. The riverbank she sat on was secluded and protected by thick shrubs and huge trees. She had left one of the Glocks and the shotgun in a secure place not far from the boat. The other Glock she had lost in the carnage. The knife had also gone but incredibly she still had the axe.
Jane felt rage inside her. For Derek, the dead and for Ronnie Makin. If he had not boarded the boat and taken control, ordered them to Chester they might still be…
She checked herself over, no bites, a few scratches and a decent bruise just under her eye was all she had to show for her battles. She knew her battles were just beginning and if she was to survive in this new world she would have to fight through more challenging and potentially life-threatening encounters. She knew where Ronnie was heading, she knew the route he was taking, and she also knew where to head him off. Ronnie Makin was one of those people in life who only understood one language – violence.
It was coming for him.
Chapter Seventy-One
Leeds, UK
Frank and Miles scanned Leeds from the rooftop. It was still fucked. Fortunately for them their destination would take them away from the flooding. They could see handfuls of the dead moping about, nothing the Rover couldn’t handle. The route was less populated than the one they had taken to get to Amy and her friends.
It was mainly one road straight through.
‘There is a supermarket and a hospital on the way,’ said Miles highlighting the structures on the map. ‘They could be useful.’
‘We can look but we don’t take any unnecessary risks.’
‘Agreed,’ replied Miles. ‘How long will it take us to get there?’
‘Normally I’d say about twenty minutes but the speed I plan on driving you can half that.’
‘What about obstacles?’
‘The Rover can push past most small vehicles, flesh and bone, well you’ve seen that first-hand. Anything else we’ll manage as we come across it,’ said Frank.
‘Do you think the kid, Jack I think his name is will be able to handle the journey?’
‘He might need sedating but that won’t be a bad thing,’ said Frank with half a smile. ‘Listen Miles I’d appreciate what we have had to do on the road stays between us. These kids don’t need to know how brutal we are until the time arises. They’ll see soon enough how fucked this world will get. Whatever we were before this new world can wait, we’ll talk when we are settled’.
‘You are a remarkably interesting man Frank.’
‘Yeah, so you keep saying.’
‘You don’t strike me as a man who makes friends easily, yet we seem to be bonding.’
Frank laughed strongly, ‘Bonding may be a bit strong, but I have always considered myself to be good judge of character.’
‘Let’s hope you are right Mr Shopkeeper,’ teased Miles.
‘I wasn’t always a shop keeper.’
Their conversation was interrupted by a scream, it came from the building opposite. A young woman raced out on to the roof. Three of the dead followed. She had purpose. Miles was about to shout but Frank stopped him.
‘Don’t you’ll distract her,’ he said.
‘From what?’ asked Miles.
‘The inevitable.’
The woman continued to the edge of the roof and flung herself forward without hesitation, the dead followed. She hit the floor headfirst.
‘Extraordinary,’ said Miles. ‘How did you know she would do that?’
The Good, The Bad & The Dead | Book 1 | Once Upon A Time In An Undead World Page 39