Z: UK (A Zombie Novel)

by David Whaley

  Marcus and Devlin sat on the front pews whilst Leon and Natalie searched around the church to ensure it was secure.

  “You know how to use one of these?” asked Leon handing Natalie his Glock pistol, some ammo clips and a thigh holster he had retrieved from one of the lock boxes in the boot of the car; the MP5 still securely strapped to his chest.

  “I spent some time in 19,” replied Natalie. “I’m familiar with this firearm. Tell me. Why did you choose this place?”

  “Like I said, it seemed appropriate. I was here earlier today and yesterday. So far I haven’t seen any of those… things. That’s not to say we shouldn’t look around each time. Always secure.”

  “Always secure? Yeah, I remember that saying. What happened to the priest?”

  “Haven’t got a clue and haven’t seen one. I just hope he or she hasn’t…”

  Natalie knew what the end of the sentence should have been. She too would have stopped short at the thought of one of the lords servants ‘turned’ into one of the devils minions. Natalie touched Leon’s broad shoulders to let him know she understood.

  With the church cleared of ‘unwelcomers’, the armed pair reunited themselves with the others back in the main hall and sat nearby.

  “Man. Marcus, I know she’s yours but she looks good with a gun strapped to her,” said Devlin.

  “Do you mind?” replied Marcus, Leon and Natalie giving only a stare to show their disgust.

  “Okay, it won’t happen again. Hey, big guy. So when do we get some metal?”

  “When I can trust you!” exclaimed Leon. “No offence Marcus.”

  “None taken,” said Marcus.

  “Enough of this. Can we talk about the matter at hand?” said Natalie.

  Natalie stood and walked up the two steps facing the pews onto the stage area as if about to give a reading from the Old Testament. The remainder of the group nodded at her outburst knowing she was right.

  “Right, first things first. We have a zombie situation. What do we know about them?” she said.

  “They’re slow,” contributed Devlin.

  “And relentless,” said Leon.

  “That’s right. And they’re not very strong, less than the human form before,” she said.

  “They can hear us. Not understand us, but can follow sounds to find food, us. They probably have a sense of smell to. How do they know not to eat their own kind?” said Marcus.

  “True. If they can smell then the wind must play a part, surely,” said Leon.

  “It probably does,” said Natalie. “One thing we know for certain is that the only way to kill a zombie is through its head. Severe head trauma.”

  “On that note, why is that? If you shoot them in the heart or lungs, wouldn’t they die?” asked Devlin actively getting involved.

  “I think I know the answer to that one,” said Leon. “Their organs stopped working at the point of their human self dying, and therefore all internal organs are redundant. They don’t breathe, so their lungs are useless and their blood is congealed proving it is no longer circulating around the body and as such the heart is just as useless. That’s why you see some of them with limbs missing.”

  They continued debating with facts as well as theories, the fact that they cannot run or swim or jump, and an unrealistic theory on how the disease attacks the body, Marcus keeping quiet at this point with his secret kept as such.

  They spoke about the army stepping in and the reason why they hadn’t thus far. Leon quickly lowered everyone’s hopes advising them that the soldier’s abroad weren’t being allowed back due to the quarantine and the soldier’s that had been comfortable in their UK barracks were all dead and ‘turned’.

  Natalie shared with everyone the DVD she had seen that had been sent to the prime minister and that his fairly recent broadcast about ’flu’ was just a cover up. Devlin and Leon were shocked but not Marcus, although he acted as though he was.

  “So, what now?” Natalie asked the group.

  “What’d you mean?” responded Devlin.

  “What now? Can we stop it? Bring back what is normal to us, or as close as? What do we do now?” she said.

  “I say we kill these fucker’s and recruit others to help. Take back what’s ours, one town at a time,” suggested Leon.

  “Escape! I’m not going to hang around any longer then I need to. I want off this island,” added Devlin.

  “Can’t we help? I agree with Leon to a point but there must be someone, somewhere working on a cure and we have to try and help,” said Marcus.

  “I agree with Marcus, we have to help,” said Natalie.

  “You can’t be serious. At least, almost, everyone’s dead. You can’t cure the already turned,” said Devlin.

  “But we may be able to cure the infected before they turn,” said Leon. “Either way, we can explore the different avenues at the same time. Now, I’m going to go and find us some food. We should pair up. One armed and one unarmed. Marcus, you’re with me.

  Marcus reluctantly agreed only due to his hunger after leaving their bags at the supermarket, Devlin forgetting about them as he was having too much fun. He’d soon realise that the money was missing.

  Natalie could understand Leon’s logic in not leaving two people unarmed, but did it have to be Devlin she was stuck with, she thought.

  “I’m going to have a look around,” said Devlin.

  “Just stay within the church,”

  “I will, don’t worry your pretty self.”

  Devlin set off, walking the perimeter of the hall and looking through an adjoining door before shrugging. He paced about on the raised platform where Natalie had been standing for a while before disappearing into a door at the back that she presumed was the priest’s office.

  Natalie kept a careful eye on Devlin as he walked about but as he entered the office she felt both worry and relief. Worry because he could get into trouble and relief because she didn’t trust him, but at least she could still hear his footsteps, until they stopped.

  For a few seconds, Natalie stopped breathing to aid her hearing when a loud scream, recognisable as Devlin, echoed throughout the church.

  Natalie drew her firearm and ran to the office, stopping at the door that had been left ajar. Seeing nothing, or rather no one or thing, she pushed the handgun through the gap followed by her arm, forcing it to open slightly whilst thinking, we secured this place. What on earth is going on?

  She still couldn’t see anyone through the increased gap and used her free hand to push the door open some more.

  Natalie positioned her gun in front of her, ensuring she had a good grip, and blinked a few times to rid her vision of any blur calling out to Devlin. This returned no response, not even a groan or moan.

  She pushed the door open the remainder still unable to see Devlin or his attacker, assuming a zombie had got to him.

  “Devlin?” she called out again with no response.

  Her first step was the hardest partly due to fear and partly due to her dislike of her new acquaintance but she knew what she had to do, duty bound as a police officer and a survivor, continuing into the room.

  It was a small office with a bookshelf against one wall, an oak desk in the centre with a swivel chair that looked out of place and a window, the original from when the church had been built.

  Something unnerved her and she knew exactly what it was. There was nobody in the room and there’s only one way in. Then the sudden realisation set in; he was behind the door.

  She began the process of spinning around as the door slammed shut and the hand that held her firearm was being forced behind her back causing her to fire a single round into the floor.

  Her attacker, who she knew could only be Devlin, squeezed her hand causing her to loosen her grip. The Glock fell to the floor as she was forced against the Oak desk. Her stomach felt cold, even through her uniform without the stab vest on, as it touched the surface.

  Devlin stood close behind her, leaning over her body wit
h her arm still behind her back, his free hand struggling with his belt.

  “C’mon babe, we might not get another chance to do this. I’ll show you a real man. We might even have to repopulate Britain. Nine months is a long time,” said Devlin.

  “Get the fuck off of me!” screamed Natalie aware of what Devlin was about to do.

  Chapter 11

  Natalie let out a ground shaking scream for help, stifled by Devlin’s pressing hand against her mouth. This enabled a brief opportunity to inflict pain and she bit down onto the side of his palm, the taste of blood that Natalie always likened to a thicker type of water hitting her taste buds.

  Devlin shrieked and Natalie responded with another scream prompting him to replace his hand more cautiously this time around.

  Natalie was still stuck firmly in place with Devlin’s weight pressed against her as he then continued to struggle with his belt.

  “Devlin, get the fuck off me,” said Natalie as she tried her hardest to struggle free to no avail.

  “Sorry officer. I could be dead tomorrow and this might be my last chan-.”

  Devlin was interrupted by the sound of the door to the priest’s office slamming open, Natalie feeling a release of pressure as Devlin was ripped from her body moments later.

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet through your skull?” asked the familiar voice of Leon.

  Natalie turned to see Devlin was being forced against a wall with Leon’s extra Glock pressed against his temple. Marcus was stood in the doorway with a splenetic expression on his face.

  “Go on then. Do it,” said Devlin.

  Leon squeezed the trigger and his Glock responded by making a hollow click sound as Devlin skipped a breath, relieved that the chamber was vacant of a bullet.

  “You can stay,” said Leon. “We stand a better chance of survival even with you here but you will always be paired with me. One foot out of line and you will swallow a bullet. Under the circumstances, there won’t be a trial.”

  “Yes, okay,” replied Devlin as he sauntered towards the door where Marcus landed a right hook to his jaw. “I suppose I deserved that.”

  Devlin left the office, his footsteps heard to be hurriedly echoing in the main hall, leaving the remainder of the group to discuss the events and allow Natalie time to regain herself.

  Natalie explained the trap that Devlin had set up for her as well as her failing to secure the room properly.

  “I knew we couldn’t trust him. There’s something about him,” said Leon.

  “So why are we letting him stay with us?” asked Marcus.

  “We stand a better chance of survival with the four of us.”

  “Leon’s right. As much as it pains me, but we do need to work together,” said Natalie. “I’m glad, but why did you both come back?”

  “Two reasons,” said Marcus. “First, there’s way too many of those dead things out there. And second, we heard the gun shot.”

  “The one thing we didn’t mention before though, is that one zombie is weak and defenceless but a whole load can overpower you quickly. They come from all directions and surround you before you know it,” added Leon. “But are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine, we all just need to keep a close eye on Devlin,” said Natalie. “I suggest that we all go for supplies in a little while. From what you said about the amount out there we have to stay as a foursome. In the meantime, I will go through all of the radio channels again.”

  They all entered the church hall, mainly to see what Devlin was doing. He was sat at the rear of the church fiddling with some planks of wood with a hammer set down at his side.

  Leon went over to Devlin and sat down beside him talking about something that Natalie couldn’t make out due to the distance but reminding herself that she had more important things to be getting on with.

  “Any officers receiving this channel, met base 1?” Natalie transmitted on her PR on the Essex police channel, having also devised a call sign for herself. There was no response.

  “Any officers receiving, acknowledge, met base 1?” She transmitted this time on the Cambridgeshire police channel. Again, there was no response.

  “Officers receiving this channel, met base 1?” She transmitted on the Hertfordshire police channel not holding much hope to any signs of life when her trail of thought was interrupted.

  “It’s good to hear an unfamiliar voice,” transmitted a male. “Met base 1? I used to be Met and have never heard that call sign before.”

  “That could be because I made it up. I could quite as easily have called myself Barbie 22 and it wouldn’t make a difference, but we must remain professional,” replied Natalie.

  “Agreed,” said the male softly chuckling to himself.

  “I’m assuming you’re an officer? How many of you are there?”

  “I am an officer, PC John Richards; I have six with me and at least three others that I am in contact with. They are all police officers, none of which are of rank,” he said.

  “Okay, so far, I have had no luck with Essex or the Cambridgeshire constabulary but I will keep trying. Tomorrow at 0900 hours turn your radio to Met Ops 1 for a full briefing on this situation. And try to contact as many officers and staff as you can,” ordered Natalie.

  “Will do. Glad to hear someone’s taking charge.”

  With the radio conversation at an end, Natalie tried a few more county police channels to no avail and decided to try again later, turning her attention to the rest of her group, all of which were sitting at the back of the churches main hall.

  “We need to go out and get some supplies,” said Natalie approaching the trio. “Food, water and possible weapons. Not firearms Devlin.”

  “What? I didn’t say anything.”

  “Whatever, but we will all go together,” continued Natalie.

  “Meet at the car in five, I’ll drive,” said Leon.

  The group readied themselves; Natalie deciding to ditch her stab vest altogether as it wouldn’t offer much protection against the new threat and it weighed her down, whilst Devlin and Marcus each took a plank of splintering wood off a pile of rubble resting outside against the historic stone walls of the building.

  They set off.

  As Leon manoeuvred the vehicle around abandoned ones, Natalie utilised her sense of sight and hearing as she assessed the carnage remains of the streets of London.

  Although the streets were desolate, the sound of the undead moaning, too close for comfort, could be heard emanating from all directions.

  These moans? Like a cry for help from someone unable to talk as a result of a natural occurrence or otherwise. She, of course, knew this was not a cry for help, or the sound of a person in pain for that matter. This was the sound of the undead. The sound that signifies one thing. A need to feed.

  Their ears were then introduced to a new sound, that of a high pitched shrieking and screaming, that the group could have quiet easily have mistaken for a Banshee as anything, given Britain’s current state of terror, could be possible.

  A look up at their right hand side quickly eradicated their theory of a Banshee as a pretty woman, with dirt and blood on her face, screamed at them for help from the sixth floor, they estimated, of a multi-storey car park.

  As soon as they had seen her, she looked over her shoulder and ran off, continuing to scream, out of view.

  “We have to help,” said both Leon and Natalie, partly owing to instinct.

  “No! It’s too risky. To risk our lives to save one is j-,” said Marcus.

  “Listen! You can both just sit here and wait if you want, but this is what Leon and I do for a living. Maybe not to such an extent, but essentially it’s the same thing,” said Natalie, interrupting her boyfriend.

  “Guys… I have made some mistakes in the past and a particular one more recently that I daren’t explain or relive. Of all of these mistakes, none of them have affected individuals to show the kindness you all have to me,” said Devlin. “Truth be told…
if any of you had done what I had, then I would have fed you to the ‘Z’s’”

  “Devlin, I….”

  “Natalie, let me finish. If any of you are sure that you wanna go in there then we all go in as a team and fight our damned hardest to come out as one. You say you guys kept me for a better chance of survival? Then let’s go and survive!”

  Natalie, Marcus and Leon shared a glance at each other, all thinking that Devlin didn’t have the personality to fit the words that had found their way parting his lips.

  Devlin noticed the looks that were being exchanged and as not to have them completely overwhelmed with affection, he added, “Of course I am still opting for the escaping solution. The sooner I can get out of ‘dead Britain’ the better.”

  All four chuckled as Leon span the X5 around and turned into the entrance of the car park.

  He drove straight through the barriers rather than pressing the button and waiting for a ticket to be printed, sped up the vehicle ramps a little too fast and sliding slightly as he got to the top whilst running down only a handful of the undead in his way. That was, at least, until he got to the fifth floor.

  Taking in their surroundings, they could see concrete floors and walls that opened up every so often to allow air, light and fear stricken women to shout for help. Pillars were situated every three parking bays, of which, over half were occupied whilst fluorescent lights patterned the ceiling all of which had old, rectangular casings with some broken. Some of the lights were working and some not at all, while others were flickering without rhythm.

  Their main focuses were the Zombies scattered around the floor; some crawling and some walking, or their version of it.

  There were many and they all turned to face the X5, their faces rotting and bloodied, the blood not necessarily their own.

  Leon applied the handbrake and stepped out of the BMW drawing his sidearm. Devlin also got out armed with his plank of wood.

  “Let’s get the fuckers!” said Leon as he approached the nearest of the undead, readying his Glock followed by Devlin.

  Marcus and Natalie pleaded with them to get back into the vehicle, but it fell on deaf ears as red mist descending on the duo.