Surviving the Fall: How England Died

by Stephen Cross

  Well, it’s mine now nobhead, thought Chris.

  He pressed the button on the key, and the Hummer’s lights flashed and a few beeps sounded. Open. Chris smiled.

  “Come on Terry, we got it,” shouted Chris.

  He squeezed down the side of the lock up, opened the door and got in. Leather upholstery, shining, gleaming, brand new. Looked after.

  The engine started cleanly and at once - a far cry from Chris’s old Vauxhall that chugged and rattled for a good few minutes before the engine held. Chris laughed. “Nice.”

  Terry opened the passenger’s door and climbed in. His large frame easily accommodated in the large space of the Hummer.

  “It’s alight this,” said Terry looking around the interior. “Nice find,” he smiled at Chris.

  A zombie appeared at the front of the lock up. It was an old man in a well turned out suit, probably a dapper chap a few days ago. Now, a shuffling bloody mess. It held up a bony hand at the Hummer, clicked its teeth in that weird way they did, and walked towards them.

  “Let’s try it out then,” Chris revved the engine, put the Hummer into drive and put his foot on the accelerator.

  The Hummer took off, fast, the wheels screeching loudly in the confines of the lock up. The zombie received all two and a half tonnes of vehicle square in its chest. It flew back across the yard, and hit the opposite lock up, leaving a bloody mark on the door.

  Chris hit the brakes hard to stop them from hitting the same door.

  “Easy lad!” shouted Terry.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  The zombie they had just hit crawled along the floor towards them. Chris drove slowly over its head, a satisfying crunch sound under the vehicle as the zombie’s skull was crushed.

  He turned the wheel and drove out of the yard at speed, bumping over the other zombie bodies that Terry had left.

  When they got back to the high rise, Benno’s gang of scallies where gone.

  “Glad them numb nuts have gone,” said Chris. “Reckon they would have given us all sorts of grief with this Hummer.”

  They had led their mark though. A car was on fire in the far corner of the car park. It burnet brightly. The fire sounded a low rumble, popping occasionally as car parts burst and exploded. It was the only sound in the otherwise silence. None of the usual shouting, music, kids playing, traffic noise.

  “Weird isn’t it?” said Chris. “No sound.”

  “No people,” said Terry. “That’s the worst of it. You reckon everyone is a zombie?”

  “That, or dead.”

  “Or hiding out I guess.”

  “We should get a move on,” said Chris, feeling afraid. The atmosphere was taking on a malevolent feel, something he couldn’t explain.

  “I’ll go up and get the others, reckon you should stay here and look after the Hummer,” said Chris.

  Terry shook his head. “No way mate. If we’re getting my son down from up there, I’ll be gong up. You stay here.”

  Chris was about to protest, but when he turned to look at Terry, he saw in his eyes that it would be useless to argue. Terry had only seen eyes like that once before, when some Mum with her son was in a newsagent Chris had been robbing. He reckoned she would have killed him if he’d gone anywhere near the boy.

  “Ok,” said Chris. “You want me to show you how to use the gun?”

  “Yeah, but be quick.”

  Chris went though loading the weapon, taking off the safety, how to aim, fire, and explained the kick he was going to get.

  “Most people shit themselves when they see a gun, so if it’s people, you probably won’t have to worry,” said Chris.

  Terry nodded, leaving the vehicle, tucking the gun in his belt. “Prefer this anyhow,” he held the baseball bat sternly in both hands.

  Chris watched Terry run into the stairwell of the flats - they had parked right outside. Terry disappeared up the stairs. Fourteen floors, it would take him a while to get there, but Terry looked fit. Chris was sure he could handle it.

  Terry took the stairs at a steady pace. He was used to stairs, he had ran up thousands and thousands in his time, usually with his fire kit on his back, so this was nothing. He was careful though, he wanted to preserve his energy - he wasn’t going to fight fires this time, he didn’t know what he might be going to fight.

  His footsteps echoed eerily against the empty concrete of the stair well. He peered round every corner carefully, and looked up ahead. His ears strained for sound, but nothing except his footsteps.

  On the seventh floor, however, he heard a scream. It was low pitched, maybe a man. Terry was satisfied it was from the floor he was on, so it wasn’t Nate.

  He kept going up, one careful step after another.

  Chris was nervous. His eyes darted around the car park like a cat stealing food.

  Movement to the right, his head snapped round. A small black shape took off into the air, it let out a loud caw sound. A crow.

  Chris’ heart raced. A fucking crow and he nearly filled his pants.

  It was the sitting still, the waiting, the not moving that was giving him the fear. He needed to be doing something.

  He took out the gun, and counted his bullets. He took the safety off.

  He gripped the gun handle, holding it up, moving it in whatever direction he looked, ready to fire.

  Hurry up Terry.

  Terry reached the fourteenth floor with no incident.

  He hoped that Nate and the others had got all the stuff packed as he had told them. Essentials only, tinned foodstuff, blankets. They would have to pick up any other stuff they needed on the move. Nan didn’t seem to have much in her apartment they could use. Just full of useless trinkets.

  He knocked on the door. “It’s me, Terry, we’re back.”

  The door opened cautiously, and Nan peered through the gap.

  “Oh thank God, youse alright? Where’s Chris?”

  “He’s down with the Hummer”

  The door opened fully. Terry walked in and Nate ran towards him, jumping up into his arms. “Dad!”

  “You alright big man? You been looking after this lot?”

  “He’s done a great job,” said Amy smiling. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

  “So you got this car then?” said Nan.

  “We do. And we need to go. You got everything packed?”

  Nan pointed to a number of bags on the couch. “That’s everything.”

  They each grabbed a bag.

  Terry noticed that Nan was crying.

  “Are you ok?”

  Nan nodded. “I’ll be alright, just a silly old woman. I’ll never be coming back here, will I?”

  “You never know,” said Amy. “Once everything is sorted out, you can come back.”

  Nan wiped her eyes. “I’m sure you’re right. I’m just being daft.”

  Terry felt sorry for the old woman. He didn’t know how long she had lived there, but it looked like leaving was difficult for her. He didn’t think she would be coming back to the flat, ever.

  Nan picked up the binoculars and the picture of Gerry. She put them in the bag she was carrying.

  “Ok, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 12

  Chris eyed the growing group of zombies at the far side of the car park. They had started to come a few minutes ago. First one, then another, then another.

  Luckily they didn’t seem interested in coming towards the high rise - the belching grey smoke and roaring flames of the car held their attention well.

  Even so, Chris kept his head down, and tried to stay still. How did they find people, he wondered. Smell? Vision? Movement?

  Chris still gripped the gun in his right hand. The baseball bat was sitting on the passenger seat.

  No sign of movement yet from the apartment block.

  Come on Terry.

  Apart from the zombies, everything was still, horribly still. Something in the atmosphere just felt wrong. Towers of smoke in the distance indicated tens
of fires in the city and beyond.

  Chris’ heart missed a beat.

  The other side of the car park - figures approaching. About ten. Fast, not shuffling, not zombies.

  Tracksuits, hoodies, balaclavas. They carried weapons. One of them raised what looked like a baseball bat and pointed it towards the Hummer.

  The group parted and a person that Chris recognised came to the front.

  Simeon.

  He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. It was covered in blood. There was no obvious cuts on him. Must be someone else’s.

  Still no sign of Terry and the others. Chris felt panic grip him. Simeon would be on him in seconds.

  “Hey Chris,” shouted Simeon. “Game over lad!”

  Chris would probably be safe in the Hummer. He made sure the doors were locked.

  But what about when Terry and the others got here? Simeon and his group would make mince meat of them, even if Terry did have a gun. Maybe Simeon had one too.

  No, he would have it out already.

  Chris had an idea.

  He wound the window down an inch. He pushed the barrel of the gun out the gap, pointed it towards the approaching gang. He pulled the trigger.

  The effect was immediate.

  Simeon’s crew dived in behind cars.

  The zombies let out a loud moan and turned towards the bang. They saw the hiding scallies and began their lumbering walk towards them, their groans taking on an excited pitch.

  They could definitely tell the difference between a burning car and living flesh, that’s for sure.

  Terry, Nan, Nate and Amy paused on the stairs.

  It was hard to tell where the gunshot had come from, its sound ricochetting around the concrete stair well made it directionless.

  “Was that a gun?” said Nan.

  “I reckon,” said Terry. He took out his gun and held it uncertainly. He didn’t feel comfortable, or powerful, with a gun. He felt like a kid who didn’t know what he was doing.

  “What do we do?” said Amy. Their voices echoed loudly in the relative silence after the gunshot.

  “The same as before, just a bit more slowly. Let’s be careful.” Terry motioned to them to continue down the stairs.

  Simeon shouted from behind a car. “You can’t hide in there forever Chris, what happens when Nan gets down here then?”

  A few of the scallies ran from behind the cars and towards the zombies. They started to plough through them with their baseball bats, axes and spades. Blood and fragments of bone scattered into the air.

  But more zombies, a lot more, where arriving from different sides of the car park.

  Chris let go another shot.

  Simeon made a dash from behind one car to another. Chris fired a few times, but missed.

  Benno darted in behind the same car as Simeon. Chris fired again.

  The shots where attracting a lot of attention. It must have been the only sound for miles. The sound cracked through the air. Zombies were now arriving in their tens, squeezing into the car park, in between the cars.

  Simeon’s gang had their work cut out for them, but they were smashing and slashing their way through the crowd of undead with relish. They looked like they were enjoying it. Violence and death with no consequences.

  A blur of movement as Simeon darted from one car to another, closer. He was now only about ten yards away.

  Chris let out a volley of shots. The bullets splintered the car’s frame and shattered the windows.

  Benno and another scallie joined Simeon. Chris fired twice, and then the gun clicked.

  Bollocks. Out of ammo.

  “You bloody idiot,” said Chris to himself.

  “You never where the brightest,” said Simeon, standing up, a triumphant grin on his face. “Let’s be having you.”

  He ran towards the Hummer, holding his baseball bat high.

  Chris quickly rolled up the window. Just in time. Simeon smashed his bat against the window.

  The window vibrated, but the window held, no problem. The bat bounced off harmlessly.

  Simeon slapped his palm onto the window and brought his face close up to the glass. He pointed at Chris.

  “Best go have a word with your Nan then,” said Simeon.

  Benno appeared next to Chris, “Gonna get you, ya nobhead! And your Nan!”

  They ran into the high rise.

  Chris gripped the steering wheel. He squeezed tight, his knuckles going white.

  He yelled.

  Terry and the others ran down the stairs, ignoring the gun shots from below. They reached the third floor and stopped. They heard shouting.

  Terry held the gun out in front of him as he had seen cops do in American TV shows.

  “Nate, stay behind me, got that?”

  The young boy nodded, his eyes wide with fear and excitement.

  They reached the landing of the second floor, and there was the sound of a door banging shut from below.

  Terry held up his hand to stop the others from running, and then held his finger to his mouth to indicate silence.

  Footsteps running up the stairs. Echoing rudely in the silence.

  Terry held the gun up, and pointed it at the top of the stairwell coming up from the first floor.

  A shaved head appeared.

  “Benno?” said Amy.

  Another head appeared, swarthy, dark hair, small eyes.

  “Simeon!” shouted Nan.

  Terry let off a shot, he didn’t even think. The word, the name, had been like a ignitor switch.

  The bullet ricocheted off the wall, missing Simeon’s head by a few feet.

  Benno and Simeon retreated back down the stairs.

  Chris heard a shot from inside the high rise.

  That must have been Terry.

  Chris surveyed the car park. The zombies were filling the far edges, moving in like a wall. The scallies where doing their best to keep at bay, but were slowly being overrun.

  One of them, in a green Adidas t-shirt, was up against a white van, three zombies surrounding him. He swung wildly with his axe and cleaved the top of one head, but the other heads locked onto his shoulders. Bright red blood spurted across the van, like some abstract painting they’d have in some art gallery.

  The zombies were keeping the scallies at bay, but not for long.

  Chris had to move.

  He slid over to the passenger side which was nearest the entrance to the high raise. He grabbed the baseball bat, took a deep breath and opened the Hummer door.

  He jumped out and ran into the high rise. Shouts and moans from the scallies vs zombie battle behind him followed him into the high rise, then took on a tinny quality as he ran up the stairs.

  He heard another shot.

  Terry ran to the top of the stairwell and fired again at the retreating figures. Simeon disappeared around the corner.

  “Wait there,” shouted Terry to those behind him.

  “Dad!” shouted Nate, his face taking on a forlorn look. Amy put her arm around him.

  “It’s alright Nate, wait there.”

  Terry walked cautiously down the stairs, his gun out in front of him, his nerves causing his finger to twitch at the slightest sound or movement.

  “Take it easy lad…” he whispered to himself as he approached the corner.

  Chris accelerated up the stairs.

  He bumped into someone coming down. He tried to keep his balance, but lost it and slipped forward, landing on his face. His bat bounced out of his hand.

  He felt a quick sharp pain to the side of his cheek. He’d been kicked hard. Stars zoomed around his vision.

  There was a loud bang, and he felt another pain, this one in his shoulder, hot and biting. He let out a loud cry and rolled to the left, trying to get away from whatever was attacking him.

  Terry saw a melee of figures on the landing.

  The one on the floor was Chris and the two standing were Benno and Simeon.

  Terry pulled the trigger.

  Chris l
et out a cry, grabbed his shoulder and rolled to his left.

  “Shit,” said Terry.

  He fired again, and blood burst from Benno’s chest.

  Simeon jumped over Chris and ran down the stairs before Terry could get another shot off.

  Chris got up. He took his hand away from his shoulder, it was covered in blood. The bullet had glanced off his shoulder. It wasn’t deep. Even though, it hurt.

  “You shot me you dickhead!” he said to Terry.

  “Now we’re even,” said Terry.

  The sound of a door slamming from below.

  Simeon.

  “Shit, the keys to the Hummer,” said Chris, “Still in there.”

  Terry and Chris leapt down the stairs.

  They got to the bottom and ran out of the high rise, Simeon was in the Hummer and was starting up the engine.

  Terry raised he gun and fired at the Hummer as it pulled away into the car park.

  “Don’t bother,” said Chris, “Proper bullet proof.”

  Chris ran after the Hummer. Terry followed.

  The Hummer pulled to the left and right. It ran over zombies and crashed into stationary cars sending them sliding to the left and right.

  “Hey!” shouted one of the scallies, seeing Simeon making his escape. He joined the chase.

  The Hummer ran into a thick bunch of zombies and its bonnet rose into the sky as it rolled over the bodies. Simeon lost control and the vehicle spun to the right, crashing into a parked white van.

  Before he could reverse, the chasing scallie pulled open the door.

  “Where you going nobhead?”

  He grabbed Simeon by the shoulders and yanked at him, trying to dislodge him from the Hummer.

  In turn, a zombie grabbed the lad from behind sank its teeth into the back of his head. Blood spurted with a nasty squelch.

  Simeon tried to pull the door closed, but the zombie fell into the Hummer, blocking the door.

  Chris and Terry held their distance as a number of zombies congregated on the vehicle.

  Rotten and bloody hands pulled at Simeon and yanked him out of the driver’s seat. He let out a yell as teeth sunk into his flesh, ripping and pulling at his muscle and skin. Blood fountained into the air as an artery was pierced. Pink tubes of intestines were fought over and a dripping juicy heart was held high by one zombie as the other’s fought to grab it.