The Good, The Bad & The Dead | Book 1 | Once Upon A Time In An Undead World

by Grimes, A. L.

  ‘You fancy your chances do you?’ said Dave. ‘It’s seven against four,’ he grinned.

  ‘It’s six against four, I didn’t quite catch the runts name, but he is sprinting for the door,’ Tom nodded in the direction behind Dave.

  Dave did a quick visual, expecting a distraction. ‘Fuck,’ he said as he watched Nigel sprinting for all he was worth.

  ‘The odds are still in our favour,’ he remarked.

  Billie-Jo intervened. ‘If we let them live imagine what they will do to the next bunch of people they come across. This prick doesn’t care about women or children…I think he prefers them,’ she said.

  ‘I agree,’ said Claudia.

  Nigel’s screams pierced the air. A horde of the dead had moved along the dock road while the standoff had taken place. They were likely migrating along that way and the commotion had spiked their interest. Nigel had charged right into them. The death scream caused Nigel’s colleagues to turn.

  Tom also agreed. ‘Dave,’ he called out.

  Dave returned his focus to the threat in front of him. The arc of Tom’s sword separated his overalls and his midriff. He stood gawping in shock at the group he had underestimated. As he fell to his knees, Billie-Jo stepped forward and punctured his eyeball and brain, he fell face first into the hard floor. His colleagues scattered in all directions.

  Then the real chaos began as the dead poured through the open door. they had fought groups of the dead before but none as big as the one that was growing before them.

  ‘Plan C,’ said Tom.

  ‘What’s plan C?’ Asked Ben.

  ‘Run, fucking run,’ he replied.

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Colton, Leeds.

  Adam hugged his mother. ‘I thought you, I didn’t know what to think to be honest,’ he said.

  ‘Whatever you were thinking,’ she guessed but never pressed. ‘I know you weren’t thinking I’d be leading a band of strapping travellers. They don’t like to be called gypsies anymore.’

  ‘Gypsies, I mean travellers, the same travellers you petitioned against and objected to moving onto the field across the road,’ he asked.

  ‘The world wasn’t ending when I signed the petition and keep your voice down, they’ve become extremely useful.’

  ‘Are you ok, mum,’ he asked concerned.

  ‘Yes, why?’ she said.

  ‘I’ve just witnessed you hitting a bunch of dead people in the head with some sort of axe. It’s not how you usually spend your day.’

  ‘It’s a mattock,’ she corrected him. Before Adam could respond she called over a tall man.

  ‘Aye Mrs Kinghorn what can I do for you,’

  ‘Mickey get the vans moved and let my son and his friends through.’

  ‘Right you are.’ Mickey signalled and the vans parted.

  Miles indicated that he would drive the rover through the blockade. The rest moved forward. Adam introduced his friends to his mum.

  ‘This is Amy, Fr…’

  ‘Amy, Amy,’ she interrupted. ‘That name rings a bell. Is that the girl from the floor above you are always talking about?’

  ‘Christ, it’s the end of the world as we know it and my mother still has the power to embarrass me.’

  ‘Nice to meet you Amy, I’ve heard all about you,’ she winked. Amy smiled; Adam’s cheeks blushed.

  ‘This is her father Frank, Jack, Miles driving the car and the furry thing is Monroe.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you all, shame it’s not in more civilised times. She’s a beauty,’ she said as she reached down to push a hand through Monroe’s fur.

  ‘Adam says you are a schoolteacher,’ said Frank.

  ‘I was until last Friday,’ she replied.

  ‘I’ll bet the kids didn’t give you any trouble,’ he said with a smile.

  She looked at the mattock she held and laughed, ‘This is a recent acquisition to my teaching skills.’

  ‘The country could have done with more teachers like you,’ he said.

  Jack poked Amy, ‘Are your dad and Adam’s mother flirting?’

  ‘Good question,’ she replied.’ Where is Adam’s dad?’

  *

  They stepped over the dead bodies and moved through the makeshift entrance. Miles drove over the bodies and parked the rover. He joined the rest of his group. Both vans came together to close the entrance.

  They passed through another barricade of cars and vans that led them into the cul-de-sac of houses. Travellers and residents mingled, men, women and kids. Each road that branched off had its own barricade. The whole set up was to slow down the dead while they could be picked off, it was effective for now.

  ‘Have you sustained many casualties?’ asked Frank.

  ‘We have,’ replied Juanita.

  ‘Where’s dad?’ asked Adam.

  Juanita turned to face him, ‘I’m sorry Adam - your father was one of those casualties.’

  He stopped and looked at her, ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Aargh shite we buried him in the garden son,’ said Mickey in his thick accent and a little bit quick.

  ‘What the fuck did he just say,’ asked Amy. Amy felt a poke in her shoulder from Frank, he’d heard plenty of swear words but few from his daughters mouth.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Jack. ‘I think I heard the word shite and garden.’

  ‘What?’ asked Adam.

  ‘I’ll take care of this Mickey; you go and reinforce the barricades.’ He nodded his understanding and walked away. ‘We have buried your father in our garden.’

  ‘Good shout,’ said Amy to Jack.

  ‘I’m from Wales,’ he replied. ‘If I can understand that jumble of consonants a little bit of high-speed Gaelic shouldn’t be too difficult to decipher.’

  ‘Tell me what happened,’ said Adam.

  ‘All in good time,’ she replied. ‘Let’s get inside and have a drink, I’m parched.’

  *

  Adam could see a mound of soil and a makeshift wooden cross in the centre of the rear garden. He wasn’t sure how he felt. He had always got on with his dad and respected him he just never really had much in common with him. He did feel guilty for being grateful that it was him and not his mother that was buried in their once immaculate lawn.

  Frank, Amy, Miles and Jack sat around an oval shaped wooden table. Juanita busied herself in the kitchen while Mickey who looked like the bare-knuckle champion of the North stood around.

  ‘Ok, mum, tell me what happened to dad,’ said Adam.

  Juanita brought in fresh tea and took her seat at the table. ‘We’ve called it the battle of Colton Cricket club,’ she said.

  She told him the story.

  ‘So you’re saying this big lug here, smashed my dad’s head in?’ said Adam eyeballing Mickey.

  Mickey moved forward, ‘Who you calling lug you streak of piss.’

  Frank stood quickly, his chair screeching across the tiled floor of the kitchen.

  ‘And what are you standing up for?’ he said leering at Frank.

  Frank looked at Mickey. ‘I think he is telling you to sit down,’ chipped in Jack.

  ‘I may not have caught all his rapid English, but I recognise his intent,’ said Frank.

  ‘I’ll put you on your arse if you don’t sit back down.’

  ‘He said,’ Jack was about to translate.

  ‘I got it,’ said Frank.

  Juanita was about to speak up when Frank sat back down. Jack was slightly amused by Frank backing down. Miles was not convinced.

  ‘Can we please be civilised?’ said Amy. ‘This isn’t easy for Adam or Juanita.’

  ‘Thank you, Amy,’ said Juanita.

  Mickey backed up, his eyes still on Frank. He ignored the stare and relaxed again.

  Adam looked at the mound of earth in the back garden, ‘How did you get his body back if you were under siege?’ he asked.

  Juanita shifted uncomfortably; she raised her eyes slightly from the floor. ‘We didn’t.’

&nb
sp; ‘So what’s buried in the garden?’ asked curious Jack. Amy nudged him in the ribs.

  ‘Mum,’ said Adam.

  ‘I buried some of his clothes and belongings as a memorial to him.’

  ‘If he is not in the garden, where is he…and don’t people only have memorials if somebody has been cremated?’

  *

  When Juanita had finished her story, they all sat in silence until it became awkward. Mickey piped up first.

  ‘I’m sorry about your da,’ he said. ‘I was protecting your mother.’

  Before anyone attempted to translate, Adam got it. ‘I know and thanks, he replied. ‘Sorry about before.’ Mickey raised a hand in acknowledgement.

  Juanita pushed her chair back, ‘Anyone for tea,’ she asked.

  They all signalled with a yes, Amy followed her into the kitchen to help.

  Frank got up and moved towards Mickey who tensed himself straight. Jack looked nervous and Miles was primed. Adam went into the garden to look at his father’s memorial.

  Frank extended his hand, ‘Frank Temple, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself.’

  Mickey eyed him suspiciously, Frank maintained the eye contact. ‘Michael Gallagher but my friends call me Mickey,’ he said excitable. Frank caught some of it and Mickey realised he was talking fast again. ‘Aye, sorry – the name is Mickey.’

  Frank knew his name, but he didn’t feel the need to trample all over their newly formed alliance. ‘This is Miles and Jack and the small one with the blonde hair and mouth is my daughter Amy.’

  ‘I heard that,’ shouted Amy.

  Mickey raised a hand to them all, ‘I see what you mean, and she has a set of ears on her as well.’

  ‘I can still hear you,’ she chimed.

  ‘Do you mind showing myself and Miles around your little encampment,’ he asked Mickey.

  ‘It’s late,’ said Juanita. ‘Mickey has the place safe. Lets all rest for the night.

  There were no arguments.

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  Outskirts of Manchester, Central UK.

  Eddie’s head lowered; his heart sank deeper. He had already ended his brother’s second life, now he would have to stave in the head of his best friend and his wife. He didn’t really have too much emotion about cracking Clair’s skull, but Wayne was like another brother.

  Laura moved past him, ‘I’ll take care of the girl, you help your friend’, she said. She placed a comforting arm on his shoulder as she went by.

  ‘I don’t think I can do it this time’, he whimpered. ‘Can I not just lock him in his room or chain him up in the shed?’

  ‘Sure you can’, she replied. ‘While you’re at it set up the PlayStation for him and when this is all over you can come around and play Call of Duty with him’.

  ‘You don’t have to be so fucking sarcastic about it, he is my best friend’.

  ‘Don’t be so fucking stupid then. He was your best friend, now he is something that wants to eat you. The fact his wife is putting her arms out to you should be enough to tell you the world is now fucked up and it’s going to stay that way indefinitely’. Without saying another word she smashed in Clair’s skull with two vicious swings of the hammer.

  The force of the second blow caused her eyes to pop out of their sockets. Her body straightened and she glided past Eddie liked a felled tree. Her bones cracked as she bounced down the stairs.

  ‘Your turn’, said Laura. Reluctantly Eddie moved towards his friend. He had last seen him when they had become separated during the riot.

  As Eddie moved towards his friend, he noticed he was moving into the main bedroom. Wayne’s face was smeared in blood, he thought it must have been Clair’s. He held something small in his hand. Wayne was trying to move around the bed towards Eddie. As he moved Eddie and Laura both caught sight of the baby’s cot. An explosion of crimson had soaked the bedding and the bars.

  ‘Oh for fuck’s sake Wayne, not the…’ Laura didn’t let him finish the sentence, she could see what he could see. She moved quickly across the room, used the bed as a platform and sprung into the air. She brought the hammer down with such force onto Wayne’s head that his skull folded inwards. Neck bones were crushed as the hammer continued to travel downwards. The momentum and collapse of Wayne’s body carried her forward. She let go of the hammer and stretched out her hands as she was propelled forward. Her hands grabbed the rails of the cot, slowing her speed. Her head and shoulders entered the area above the cot. The image was brief, she closed her eyes tightly but not before the scene had been burnt into her eyeballs. She retched, then vomited into the cot. She pulled herself away without opening her eyes. Only when she was facing away did she open them; the tears fell without effort. She pulled the duvet from the bed and tossed it into the cot.

  ‘Are you Ok’, asked Eddie.

  She gave Wayne a hefty kick as she walked past his crumpled body. ‘Let’s get the fuck out of this place’, she said to Eddie as she picked up the hammer.

  ‘Thanks’, he replied.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For sorting out Wayne.’

  She tried not to think of what she had just witnessed but that was never going to happen, ever. ‘My pleasure’, she replied. ‘Now can we go?’

  Eddie closed the door behind them.

  *

  They looked out the front windows as more of the dead congregated. ‘This is like Déjà fucking vu. We were in the same shitty situation at your place except now we have travelled halfway across the city and are still no better off. In fact after what I’ve just witnessed upstairs, I feel fucking worse off.’

  ‘We are not worse off. Granted, that’s a fucking mess upstairs but we have two positives now,’ he replied.

  ‘Two you say. You want to explain to me how you have come to that conclusion. I’ve got the image of a….’ she let the sentence trail off. ‘I’ve had to witness you have a breakdown while trying to kill us on the way here and now I’m stuck in another fucking house with you surrounded by dead people who are not actually lying down quietly but walking about trying to eat me. Where the fuck is the positives in all of that?’

  ‘One,’ he said. She turned, her hand flexing around the hammer. ‘I’m not being funny, I’m saying one, we are now right next to the motorway with a potential escape route out of the city and two, we also know that Harry Flowers has a small army out on the streets, we could go to him for protection.’

  ‘Oh, she said. Eddie smiled at his little victory. ‘The motorway maybe but as for this Harry Flowers, his henchman didn’t seem to be welcoming towards you.’

  ‘He’ll get over it,’ he replied.

  ‘Really, that’s not how it looked to me. Didn’t he mention tea boy.’

  ‘Harry likes my brother; they go way back. He owes him’

  Laura thought about it, ‘I think the city is dangerous, all of them at the moment. Too many people running about in blind panic, getting bit and adding to the increasing numbers of dead. It will just get worse; Flowers won’t be able to contain the army of dead.’

  ‘Mr Flowers,’ he said.

  ‘What?’ Replied Laura.

  ‘He likes to be called Mr Flowers; he finds it disrespectful to call him anything else.

  ‘Fuck Mr Flowers,’ she hissed.

  ‘Listen,’ he said.

  ‘No you listen,’ her voice was serious and loaded with intent. ‘I’m fucking sick of men especially men like you and men like him. The country is on its knees, but I won’t be, not anymore. I’m taking control of my life and if this Flowers or you want to fuck with me then go ahead but I’ll tell you one thing, it won’t be easy, and it will most definitely be fucking messy.’ She looked back out the window at the dead.

  ‘I was just giving some advice, that’s all.’ Eddie had just witnessed another shift in their relationship or partnership as Laura had accurately put it. She was no longer taking shit and she was more than capable of handling herself. He had noticed a change in her before but what sh
e had witnessed upstairs had altered her far worse than anything else. He watched how she twirled the bloody hammer in her hand.

  ‘I don’t like the sound of him but as dangerous as it is in the city, we don’t know what’s on the road. How far to see Flowers?’ She asked.

  ‘He’s not that far away,’ he replied.

  ‘Let’s go see him then.’ She said. ‘Are you going to tell him your brother is dead; I’m sure the idiot on the road will be amused.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll tell him.’

  She turned towards him again, ‘How do you know he won’t just turn us out on the streets when he knows you’re bargaining chip is dead.’

  ‘Because I’m not talking about Tommy, it’s my other brother and he scares the shit out of them all.’

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Chester, The River Dee.

  Derek was right, it was like driving a car. Ronnie had got the hang of sailing quite quickly. He just guided the passenger cruiser along the open river. He could see masses of the dead moving without any real purpose. Some people called out to him from their windows, asking him what it was like in the outside world, he ignored them. He was thinking back to the last couple of days when his life and society had turned upside down. He even thought about Aaron briefly, he wasn’t blood though. He needed to get back to Manchester, catch up with his brothers and go and give Harry Flowers a visit. That’s if his dopey brothers were still alive.

  Ronnie could see the route ahead was clear, much easier than trying to navigate a car through the dead and other abandoned cars. Some of the dead moaned at him from the embankment, others fell into the water as they reached out.

  ‘Stupid fuckers,’ he said to himself.

  He sat in the captain’s chair, with his feet up, almost relaxed. He pulled out the picture of him and Stacey, his arm around her shoulder, hers around his waist. Their pride and joy little Ron sandwiched between them both. He touched both their faces with his finger, remembering the softness of Stacey’s skin, the little blemishes, her childhood scar that lived permanently on her chin. The feel of her long blond hair, her natural smell, her blue eyes that penetrated his soul. The scolding look she sometimes gave him that made him love her even more. Ron’s blue eyes that he inherited from his mother. His cheeky smile that melted his heart. The tears rolled down his face, he moaned louder than the dead. All the good memories that he had could not compensate for the loss that he felt.