by Russ Watts
The door beside Jackson started shaking violently. The horseshoe desk began quaking on rickety legs.
“Fuck it, come on then,” said Benzo, and he ran after Tom. Not knowing where they were headed, they followed Tom quickly. He led them through a series of small interconnecting meeting rooms, each the same as the last, until he reached the last one. This room had balcony doors and Tom pushed them open. The roaring noise of the hungry zombies underneath them suddenly rang out loud and clear.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Tom Goode,” said Jackson. He stepped out onto the balcony beside Tom and felt fear that he hadn’t experienced since the day he’d been standing at the altar, waiting for Mary to show, forty years ago. Below the balcony, there was a delivery truck. It was surrounded by the dead. It had been left askew, abandoned in a hurry, so the front cab was directly beneath them and the rear was jammed up against the fence. The driver’s door was open and a bloody stump sat in the driver’s seat, the truck driver having long since been feasted upon by the infected.
“Nice day for a drive, Tom, but we’re not going anywhere in that,” said Jackson.
“Listen up,” said Tom addressing the group once more, “there is a truck right beneath us. It’s a bit of a jump, but we can make it. The roof of the cab leads to the fence and it’s well out of reach of those zombies. On the other side of the fence, is the pub.”
“Come on, Tom, I’d love a Ploughmans,” said Benzo scratching his head, “but we’ve hardly got time. What’s the deal?”
“On the other side of that fence, is a bus. The people in that pub have the keys. If I’ve understood them right, then they mean to leave in that bus. Right now. We need to get on it.”
“Are you sure? What if you’re wrong?” Jessica asked. Her eyes were red, but she had stopped crying. “We’d be out there with them and with nothing to stop them from ripping us apart.”
“That’s true, buddy,” said Brad. “How sure are you?”
Tom looked around the small room. They were all looking at him as if he had the answer to everything. All he knew, was if they stayed here, they were dead.
“This sure,” he said turning back onto the balcony to face the sun. He put his legs over the balcony’s edge and jumped.
* * * *
“They’re going for it,” said Rosa happily.
“You’re mad,” said Angel. “How do you feel about having a bus full of passengers again, Don?”
“Just remember to swipe on and off,” he said pulling his jacket on. With the jacket on, came the grumpy demeanour and Rosa wondered if it was part of the training.
Don opened the door and crept downstairs. Rosa and Angel followed him until they reached the bar. The pub door had been taken off its hinges and all the windows had been smashed by looters. There was hardly been any booze left, but Don managed to find a stash before they locked themselves away upstairs.
They quietly walked through the empty pub toward the door. They didn’t want anything or anyone to know they were there until the last minute. It was impossible though to avoid walking on the broken glass which crunched underfoot; it was all over the place.
They managed to get to the doorway before they were noticed. A small child spotted them and began shuffling its way to the pub. It was covered head to toe in boils, and the searing sun had popped many of them. Rosa saw milky, curdled pus oozing from its cracked dry skin.
“Now!” Don ran from the pub to the bus and opened the door while Rosa and Angel ran the other way. They had to give Don time to get in the bus and get it started, so they darted to the back end of the bus.
“It’s working,” said Rosa as she dodged the outstretched hands of the child. “The zombies’ attention is on us, not Don.”
“Awesome,” said Angel. She ducked as a zombie tried to grab her and she doubled back with Rosa to the pub. Hearing the engine roar into life, they ran once more toward the bus.
“Quickly, quickly!” shouted Don. Rosa and Angel ran onto the bus and he closed the doors. They almost fell as he drove the bus forward and it lurched violently. A zombie threw itself against the doors, but could not get in.
“Damn that was close,” said Angel sitting down. “Can we please not do that again?”
Rosa sat down in a seat near the front so she could see out through the large front window. Don turned the bus in the pub car park and positioned it so if anyone came over the fence from the conference centre, they would land right beside the doors. Rosa was impressed at how speedily he did it, and how he manoeuvred the bus so well in such a tight space. He left about a foot between the bus and the fence and hoped the zombies would not work out what they were doing. On the other side of the bus, more zombies had appeared and were hammering at it, slamming themselves into the side, trying to get at Don, Angel, and Rosa.
“Your friends had better hurry up,” said Don revving the engine. “Two minutes and we’re gone. Any longer than that and there’ll be so many of these critters in the yard, we’ll never get out ourselves.”
“Just you be ready to open the doors,” said Rosa. “They’ll be here.” She crossed her fingers. It wasn’t just her life in the balance now - others were depending on her, not least Don and Angel. She wondered who was going to come over the wall.
* * * *
Tom landed on the truck’s cab roof and could almost taste death. The smell of decay and rot, faeces and blood, and of rotting flesh, invaded his nostrils, his mouth, and his eyes. He landed on his feet and crouched down. The yard simmered with the dead.
“Come on, next one,” he said hearing the engine of the bus roar into life.
He looked up and Brad’s face appeared. Tom climbed onto the truck’s roof out of the way and watched as Brad jumped down. He landed easily and Tom held out his hand to help him over. Brad took it, and together they stood on the truck roof.
“Sure hope you’re right about this, buddy,” Brad said.
“Me, too.”
Tom watched as Jessica followed and they slowly made their way back across the truck to make room for the rest. One by one they dropped off the balcony onto the truck: Christina, Caterina, Benzo, Jackson, and, finally, Reggie. Tom stood at the end of the truck and could see the roof of the bus only feet away on the other side of the fence. The driver was revving the engine and Tom knew they didn’t have much time.
“I’m going down first then I want Caterina to come. I’ll help you, okay? After that, Jessica and Christina. Fair enough?”
Brad wanted to get off the roof but thought better of speaking out this time. Jackson was right about one thing; he had to pick his fights. He had let things get out of control back there and that was not how he usually handled things. Think it through, he thought to himself; just think it through next time. Jackson, Tom, Christina – they would be dead soon enough. When the time came, he would leave them. Jessica could be useful before he killed her. He doubted that Parker had actually stuck it to her yet. He looked at Jessica crouching down on the truck roof. She had a tight ass; if only he could get her alone, he could have a lot of fun with that.
There were no dissenting voices and Tom jumped. As he flew over the fence, dead hands and arms reached up to grab him, but he was out of reach. He fell down into the pub car park and landed painfully. There was little room to drop between the bus and the fence, and he scraped his elbows and hands when he landed.
“I’m coming, Tom,” he heard Caterina shout and then he saw her heading toward him. He tried to cushion her fall, but it was difficult in the cramped space they had. As she landed, the bus doors opened behind him.
“Get in!” Tom shoved her onto the bus and hands reached for him. He looked up, surprised to see a young woman looking at him. Caterina stumbled past her.
“Hi, I’m Rosa. Are there many more?”
“Six more of us,” said Tom. “I’m going to help them down. Tom, by the way.”
Suddenly, Christina dropped beside him and he helped her onto the bus. Rosa stayed in the doorway
helping Christina in.
“Come on, guys, hurry it up,” said Tom looking down the line of the fence. At the rear of the bus, a zombie had appeared. It was a large man and he was struggling to squeeze between the fence and the bus.
Benzo swiftly appeared with Brad after him. Up on the truck roof, there was only Jackson and Reggie left.
“Go on, mate,” said Reggie, “you go next.”
“Thanks, Reggie,” said Jackson poised to jump. He was waiting for a clear spot to land in. Brad, Benzo, and Tom were blocking the space.
“Make way, guys, I’m coming,” shouted Jackson. He too had seen the dead man at the rear of the bus. The zombie had managed to get three feet at least and was inching his way toward the door slowly.
Suddenly, Reggie let out a yelp and Jackson was aware of a flapping noise behind him.
“What the hell?” Jackson saw Reggie trying to fight off a pigeon that was flapping and fluttering around his head. He pulled off a shoe and waved it around, trying to strike the bird. Reggie managed to grab the bird and threw the pigeon away. It landed on the truck roof and Jackson noticed its feathers were dark and sticky; they were covered in congealed blood.
“Fucking pigeons, I hate them,” said Reggie. The pigeon flew up into the air and attacked Reggie again. Jackson tried to help and struck the pigeon’s head with his shoe. It landed at his feet and Reggie stamped on it.
Jackson looked on as the pigeon tried to get to its feet. Reggie had stamped on its head, crushing its bones, and one wing was hanging off. It attempted to get to its feet and hopped over to Reggie who kicked it again, sending it flying into the crowd of zombies, its feathers scattering in the air.
“Come on, Jackson, let’s get the hell out of here,” said Reggie, wiping the blood from his face. Jackson was horrified. The pigeon had nicked Reggie’s face in a few places.
“Don’t worry, mate, it’s just a scratch,” said Reggie seeing the look on Jackson’s face.
“Er, yeah. Look, Reggie, pigeon’s don’t attack people, not normal ones anyhow.”
“Oh, come on, you don’t think it was infected do you? It was just scared. It was trying to get away from them.”
Jackson put his shoe back on. “You know what my Mary says pigeons are? Flying rats.”
“Jackson, I’m fine. Let’s just go, okay? If you don’t jump in a minute, I’ll bloody push you off here.”
Jackson smiled. Reggie was fine. “Okay, I’m going.” He jumped down to Tom and clambered into the bus. Reggie followed and with him and Tom on board, Don gratefully put the bus into gear and started reversing.
“Don, what are you doing? Why are we going backwards?” said Angel.
Don watched in his mirror as the zombie that had squeezed between them and the fence was slowly crushed. Its rib cage was first to crack and Don took great delight in watching the man’s eyes pop out of his head.
“Just sit tight, Angel, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
Don started the bus forward, ignoring the dead in front of him. He sped up and several fell under the bus, crushed under its huge wheels. Don turned the bus out onto the road and with most of the dead focussed on the conference centre, his path was reasonably clear. He barrelled through them, knocking over anything in his way, not hesitating. He knew if he stopped, they would be dead. Looking in his mirror, he could see the zombies in their hundreds turning away from the centre and chasing after the bus.
“Thanks for helping us out back there. Sorry to be so blunt, but where are we going?” said Tom sitting next to Rosa.
“Well, we hadn’t thought about it too much. First priority was to get away from here, second was to get Angel home. That’s the lady over there. She left her daughter at home with her husband.”
“Where does she live?” asked Tom, as the bus careered over the road wildly.
“Canning. Don reckons he can get us there, he’s a good driver. Angel said we can stay with her until whatever’s happened has been sorted. It shouldn’t be too long now, surely?”
Tom had to grip the seat in front of him as Don turned around a bend in the road. He was going fast, trying to evade the marauding dead behind them. He scraped the bus alongside a row of parked cars.
“Hey, Don, careful. We want to get out of here in one piece,” said Angel.
“Tom, what’s happening, where are we going?” Jackson leaned over to Tom, hanging onto the overhead handles as the bus swayed.
“They’re still coming!” shouted Christina from the back of the bus. “We need to go faster!”
A dead soldier threw himself at the back window, making Christina and Caterina jump back.
“Where the hell are we going?” shouted Brad, as the bus lurched across the street once more. Don had to avoid a pile up in the middle of the road. An ambulance was blocking the street and he pulled the bus up the kerb to get past.
Tom staggered to the front of the bus. “Hey, mate, do you know where you’re going?”
Don threw a casual glance at Tom. “Of course I do, I’ve been driving these streets for twenty years. I suggest you sit down, son,” he said.
“Look, I know this is a fucked up situation and we can’t thank you enough for helping us, but maybe you should slow down a bit, you’re scaring people back here.”
“Have you looked outside, son?” Don bristled. “Take a look around. We’re surrounded, and if I slow down, those bastards will catch us. No, we’re doing things my way for once.”
Don accelerated and Tom tripped backwards, falling into an empty seat. An arm grabbed his and Tom looked up as Brad went past him.
“Hey, buddy, are you in control of this thing?” Brad clutched Don’s arm as the bus lurched violently over a pile of bodies, and crashed back down onto the road with such force that Jessica and Rosa fell from their seats into the aisle.
“You’re distracting me, go sit down,” said Don angrily.
“Don, listen to them, please!” said Rosa. Tom helped her up and pulled her onto the seat next to him. Don swerved around an army jeep and pulled the bus into a small side street. The zombies were further away now, disappearing out of sight. Don kept the bus going hard and fast, and at the end of the street, Brad saw a low black railing fencing a park.
“Don’t do what I think you’re going to do,” said Brad.
“I told you to sit down,” said Don as he crashed the bus over the kerb, into the railings. The powerful bus smashed straight through them and bounced over the shrubs and plants before skidding onto the grass.
In the back of the bus, they went flying. Jackson managed to hold onto Angel, and Tom to Rosa, but Reggie, Christina, Caterina, and Jessica fell to the floor. Brad slammed into the bus doors and hit his head. As Don slowed the bus in the middle of the park, Brad, dazed, felt his head. There was a trickle of blood running down the side of his face.
Don slammed the brakes down and the bus slewed across the park finally coming to rest by a large beech tree. He turned the engine off.
“Do you know where we are?” he shouted getting out of his seat. “Do you?”
Brad lay on the floor. “No, I...I’m not sure exactly but...”
“Anyone else?” Don stared down the length of the bus. Nobody answered him.
“Don, come on, honey, take it easy. You’re scaring everyone,” said Angel.
Don looked around at the petrified eyes looking back at him. “Robin Hood Gardens. Over that wall is Cotton Street. Over in that direction is the Blackwall tunnel. Trust me, I know what I’m doing. I know how to handle this bus. She’s a cantankerous old bitch at times, but unlike people, she does what she’s told.”
“Can we get going, please?” Christina was looking out of the rear of the bus into the park. There were figures emerging from the shadows, drawn by the noise, approaching the bus. Caterina was crying.
“Well, if I can get a bit of peace and sodding quiet.” Don returned to his seat and started the engine.
“Is he usually like this?” Tom asked Rosa quietly, so
Don wouldn’t hear.
“He’s all right really. It’s just the stress, you know. Say, are you okay? Your lip’s bleeding. Here,” and she pulled a tissue out of her pocket, dabbing it at Tom’s cut lip. He felt too ashamed to tell her he had got it fighting.
“Yeah, it’s nothing. I just banged it when we stopped,” he said taking the tissue from her. She gave him a kind smile and he felt doubly guilty; now he was lying, too.
The bus was inching slowly across the grass as Don let the tyre’s find a grip.
“Thank God,” said Jessica to Reggie, “I thought we were going to get stuck.” As the bus sped up, Jessica let out an audible sigh of relief.
“Don’t worry,” said Reggie, “we’re on our way now.”
The tyres found traction on a footpath and Don increased their speed, keen to move on. Christina was trying to calm Caterina down and pleased to see the zombies getting further away now. Tom was about to ask Rosa how she’d met Don and Angel, when he saw Brad getting to his feet. Brad was looking at Don with thunder in his eyes and Tom could sense trouble.
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with, motherfucker.” Brad punched Don on the side of the head and there was a loud crack as Don’s head hit the side window. Tom could almost feel the man’s jaw break. Rosa screamed and gripped Tom. Don instinctively put his hands up to protect himself and let go of the wheel. He cried out in pain and the bus lurched to the left, as Brad hit Don again.
“Who’s in charge, eh? You God damn cocksucker!” Brad knocked Don out cold with his third blow and he tried to grab the wheel. The bus was travelling fast and as the wheel spun, uncontrolled, the bus began to bank. Brad tried to get both his hands around the steering wheel, but Don had slumped forward making it difficult for Brad to get hold of it.
“Brad, you idiot, look out!” Tom jumped up to help Brad steer, but it was too late. The bus ploughed over freshly dug earth, through flimsy railings and out of the park, narrowly avoiding colliding into a postal delivery van. As they mounted the pavement again, Tom was thrown to the floor. The bus careered over more grass and clattered over a gravestone. Tom heard the screams behind him. He looked up and saw a brick wall inches from the windscreen. He knew there was no way Brad would get the bus back under control in time. Tom braced himself and grabbed the nearest thing to hand, which happened to be Angel’s ankle. She screamed as the bus rammed into the side of All Saints Church.