by TW Brown
Shadiyah could see the blood not only forming a pool on the floor, but also spreading across the front of his shirt, indicating that she had run him all the way through. The man was babbling something, but she did not hear the words. Instead, she kicked his legs in order to spin him just so that she could move in and swing again. She drove the blade down but at an angle that caught her target just below the armpit. The strike was lucky (for her at least) in that it went right between two ribs and pierced a lung. She had to brace herself with a foot on the individual’s side to free her weapon.
Stepping back, she could see the dull-eyed stare of a corpse looking up at her; the face still a pleasing mask of terror. Returning to the living room, she made short but violent work of the two remaining and then returned to Mr. Ivanoff who was still lying on the floor.
“Miss Kasim,” the old man croaked as he struggled to sit up. His normally thick Ukrainian accent was masked by the tightness of pain that rang in his voice.
“Mr. Ivanoff, are you okay?” Shadiyah asked as she knelt beside the elderly man.
“I have not been okay since the days of Brezhnev.” The man made a weak attempt at laughing that ended in harsh coughs.
Helping the elderly gent to his feet, Shadiyah was amazed at how light the man felt. He was little more than a skeleton. She eased him to his well-worn chair and then stepped back and looked around at the carnage.
“Perhaps you should come across and stay in my flat,” she suggested.
“Ah, it has been so long since a young lady has invited me over,” the old man gave a waggle of his amazingly bushy eyebrows, but then he gave a shake of the head. “No, Miss Kasim, I do appreciate the invitation, but I believe that I shall spend my final days right here.”
“But…” She turned, her arm extended towards the corpses littering the tiny flat.
“Just take them outside the door. My eyesight is not what it used to be, so I won’t be bothered by a few more stains. And with all the death in the air, what are a few more bodies adding to the mix.”
Shadiyah shrugged and dragged the bodies out into the hallway. After that, she came in and picked up the scattered supplies and placed them back in the scattered boxes. Looking around, she simply could not leave things in their current state. She hurried over to her flat, grabbed some supplies and returned to clean up a bit. By the time she was finished, the better part of the day had passed. She only stopped long enough to share a meal with Mr. Ivanoff.
By the time night fell, the pitter patter of rain had turned to something a bit stronger. With the power gone, the flat grew chilly enough that she could see her breath wisping up in curls of misty vapor. After fetching a few blankets from the closet in the hallway and covering up Mr. Ivanoff, Shadiyah took a seat on the couch until the man drifted off.
Once she was certain that he was asleep, she slipped out of the flat. Twenty minutes later she was up on the roof of the tower. She walked the edge of the entire building, her naked body becoming drenched by the downpour as the blood washed away.
6
Running
“Run!” Simon yelled. He gave Cedric a shove and then spun to take out the zombie that was only a few steps away now and closing.
They had made a terrible mistake. In two days, they were not even out of the city yet. They had been forced to head south shortly after they left the Clyde Court Towers. They had originally followed the A58, but when they reached the bridge over the River Aire, they had encountered a major obstacle in the form of a bridge that was a hive of undead activity. They had no idea why, but with the cars packed in bumper-to-bumper and hundreds of zombies weaving in and out of all the defunct automobiles, crossing the bridge would not have ended well.
They had followed the rails through the Holbeck District and come out when they made it to the junction where the A61 and the M621 met. They opted to spend the night in a warehouse complex instead of the nearby neighborhood across the A61.
“But there are a hundred empty beds right over there!” Cedric pointed to the cluster of houses.
“And ten times that many zombies most likely,” Simon had said with a shake of his head.
As it was, they had to take down a few walkers that were stumbling around the parking lot. Simon had climbed up on a freight truck and gotten on to the roof of the building after once again having to explain to Cedric that breaking in a door or window would keep them from having a secure location in addition to making a great deal of racket.
The next day had been miserable with a steady drizzle that would turn to heavy rain every so often. Cedric seemed to complain so frequently that eventually little Annie had turned to him and pointed a scolding finger.
“You are supposed to be the grown up, stop being such a baby.”
Simon suppressed his smile, but Mrs. Raye made no such attempt and gave a snort of approval. It seemed to work, because the man had remained quiet for a considerable amount of time until he let loose with a moan as they were crossing East End Park heading almost directly east. That sudden sound caused everybody to spin on him at once. The man did not even notice; he was turned to the south and pointing at the tree line that separated the park from some train tracks. Coming through those trees were hundreds of the undead.
Simon had urged the group to pick up their tempo, but told them they would be wise to save their energy for when they really needed it. That ended up being the case just as they emerged onto Ings Road on the far side of the park.
Two-story brick houses lined the streets on both sides. Obvious signs of chaos were apparent as far as the eye could see. Bodies were everywhere it seemed; many had been torn apart to the point where it was impossible to determine age or even gender. However, this was where they encountered one particularly horrifying scene that caused them all to come to a sudden halt.
They had turned north on Skelton Road at Mrs. Raye’s urging after she insisted that it would get them to York Road, the A64. That would be their best and hopefully fastest way out of the city. Once they were clear of Leeds, they could regroup and make their way south to the M1 and their eventual target of Mickelfield.
They had reached a tee-junction and veered right when they spied an iron fence with a closed gate. The logic was that they could get over the fence and be clear of the growing mob of undead on their heels that only seemed to be gaining in number as it poured through the neighborhood, collecting every zombie as it passed. Simon had given Cedric a boost over and then Annie. Next was Mrs. Raye who was surprisingly spry and needed very little help from either of the men. Simon came last, and just as his feet hit the ground, Annie screamed.
Considering all that she had already seen, the sound was a big surprise. Everybody’s gaze followed to where she was pointing and saw a pair of large dogs barring their path along with several undead children and a handful of adults.
It was the dogs that had caused her reaction. One of the animals was missing its back half and looked as if it had been torn in two by a pair of giant hands. The insides trailed from it like hideous gray serpents. In its mouth dangled what Simon was pretty sure had to have once been a kitten. All that remained was tufts of orange and white fur fouled with blood.
“What fresh slice of hell is this?” Mrs. Raye gasped.
The adult zombies all began to stumble for them along with the pair of zombified dogs. Simon shot a confused look at his people and then back to the zombies. The children were staying put. A few had taken a step or two closer, but they were not advancing, and instead, were seemingly observing the situation. A few of them cocked their heads back and forth as if considering whether Simon and his group represented a threat.
When the first adult reached them, Cedric had stepped in with his sickle and taken the top half of the head off. He kicked the body back and set up for the next. The adults continued to advance, yet, for some unfathomable reason, the children all stayed bunched in close and continued to simply observe.
“We can’t go back,” Mrs. Raye said with a quiet
calm. “That mob coming up from behind has brought out every zombie from all those houses. I would be willing to wager that there are at least a thousand coming from back that way.” She hiked a thumb over her shoulder for emphasis.
Simon looked around and spotted a path leading down the side of the school that was partially blocked by a crashed car that had smashed into a large rubbish bin. It was narrow, but it also looked like the best possible escape from their current location. He pointed it out to the others and grabbed Mrs. Raye, giving her a little push in that direction. The woman was surprisingly compliant and took Annie by the hand, pulling her away from where she had been frozen in horror at the sight of the zombie dogs.
Once he was sure that the two had made it over and past the crashed car, he told Cedric to go next so that he could take up the rear. He had a plan, and it would mean he had to be fast, Cedric was in a sort of battle lust and pushed away Simon’s hand twice before Simon forcefully grabbed the man, spun him away from the zombies and towards their escape route, and then gave him a hard shove while imploring him to run.
Cedric finally seemed to shake his mind clear and comply. That left Simon to attempt his plan. He hated that this was even an option, but he really saw no better way to give them a chance at a clear shot through to Mickelfield.
Simon took down the one adult zombie that still remained close enough to be a problem with his trusty mace and then shot another look at the children; they had retreated back to the entrance of the school! He had no idea what to make of that, and it also made what he was about to do seem just a little bit more unpleasant.
Simon had not always been the good boy that everybody believed. In his teens, he had run with some real thugs. It was while he was with this gang at the age of fourteen that one of his best friends died during a nasty little dust up by the train tracks near the Wortley Recreation Grounds. It had not been anything like the movies, and even worse, nobody really seemed to take notice. It was just another kid from the bad side of town on the mortician’s slab.
During his time with that gang, he had learned how to properly blow up a car from a young Irish street kid who had been accepted as one of their own. He hurried to the vehicle and looked inside the open trunk.
“At last…catching a break!” he said to himself as he popped open the tool box he had discovered. Grabbing a small mallet and a screwdriver, he swiped up a crumpled Daily Mirror from the bin. The headline made him almost start laughing.
“THE DEAD WALK!” was in large, bold print across the top of the page. There was a very good picture of a man in a business suit that had been torn up pretty bad in an attack. He had a visible rip on his throat and there was also a massive blood stain all down the right side. In addition, you could see the black tracer-filled eyes staring blankly straight on at the photographer.
Glancing over his shoulder, he could see the leading edge of the large zombie horde arriving at the gate they had climbed over. There was still no sign of the zombie school children advancing, but he simply could not spare any part of his focus to ponder their odd behavior. He would just be thankful that they had not attacked. He was not sure how easy of a go he would have when it came to taking down children.
With a few well-placed strikes, Simon managed to puncture the fuel tank on the vehicle sending the sharp odor of petrol fumes up his nose to battle with the stench of the undead. He quickly shoved the newspaper against the leak and used the screwdriver to stuff it into the hole where it began to soak up the leaking petrol. He had to rummage for some more paper real quick, but there was plenty and he allowed just enough moisture to soak the already applied paper before slapping a new piece in with that moisture acting to make the new piece of paper adhere. Stepping back, he pulled out a small butane lighter and lit the end of the paper. Just as he did, he heard the groan of the gates.
Jumping over a nearby hedge, he landed on the narrow walk beside the school building. He took one more look as the crush of that many zombies finally became too much for the gate, folding it down and allowing the massive mob of the walking dead to pour through. A moment later, there was a bit of a flash as the vapor cloud from the leaking petrol caught and became a small fireball.
Just as Simon reached the corner of Victoria Primary School, there was a concussive thump that caused his ears to pop, and then the car’s petrol tank exploded sending a black, oily cloud skyward with a twisting braid of flames wrapped throughout. The blast blew several of the zombies back into their group, but it also proved to be a new focus for the horde. While they would not actually walk into the flames, they did just as Simon had witnessed with the train car explosion: the zombies oriented on the new sound and stimulus.
He emerged from some bushes to discover a building that was trimmed in orange and had a tall fence surrounding it with large white letters proclaiming it to be ‘The BIG Bathroom Shop.’ Skirting that fence, he reached the concrete river known as York Road, or the A64 where his group stood staring back to the west. He joined them, and it took him a moment to realize that, mixing in with the low clouds of the dreary day was a wall of smoke. The wind at their back was sending the majority of the smoke and ash away from them.
It looked like all of Leeds was on fire behind them.
***
Shadiyah woke and rolled over on the sofa to look out the window. It was still raining, but that had not seemed to be enough to stop the nearby fires that continued to rage. It looked as if everything towards Wortley was ablaze, add this development to the several small fires that looked to be catching all around, and she began to see the possibility that leaving Leeds was for the best.
After getting dressed and packing a duffel full of supplies, Shadiyah had a small breakfast and then headed for the door. She stopped for just a moment and gave the flat one final look. It had never been much, but this little place had been home. She had shared good times and bad with her father, mother, and sister.
Stepping out into the hall, she refused to glance down at the bodies of her late parents. She was already feeling melancholy; she did not need to see their corpses to send her into a deeper sadness. She would check on Mr. Ivanoff one final time. She knew that warning him about the growing risk of fire would fall on deaf ears, but she would at least clear her conscience by making the effort.
She knocked and waited a few moments before letting herself in. The old man looked to be dozing in his chair; most likely he had fallen asleep staring out the window at the swirling clouds of smoke and flame.
She had only taken two steps closer when she knew that the man was not sleeping. For one, Mr. Ivanoff’s snoring was somewhat famous amongst the residents on the floor. There was no sound in this tiny flat.
Stepping around to see the man’s face, she could see his dull, lifeless eyes staring out at nothing. The man was dead, but he had died with just the slightest smile on his face. Shadiyah leaned down and closed his eyes and exited the flat.
She was well down the emergency stairwell when a thought hit her and she turned around. Several minutes later, she was inside the Wood family flat. The place was mostly as tidy as she recalled, but she did notice a few things. For one, it looked as if there had been a bit of a scuffle in the living room. Also, there were dark stains on the carpet that she knew were most likely blood.
Then…there was the smell.
That stench of the undead actually seemed to permeate practically everything now, but there were places where the smell was stronger. This flat was one of those spots.
Moving down the hall, Shadiyah stopped at the closed door to Miranda Wood’s bedroom. She put her ear to it and heard nothing, yet, the thickness of the undead stink was here at its worst, and she knew what had to be on the other side of the door.
“I did not think you a coward, Simon Wood,” Shadiyah whispered.
That small noise seemed to be enough to cause whatever was on the other side of the door to Miranda’s room to stir. A low moan came with the sounds of a hand slapping the flat surface followed b
y something scratching on the cheap wood.
Shadiyah had never cared much for Miranda. Truth be told, she could not stand the stupid girl. Yet, she felt she needed to do this. If nothing else, it would clear the slate between her and Simon. He had shown her a kindness in leaving that note. She also felt confident that it was likely his doing that she still had her father’s scimitar. Doing this one thing would put them even.
Drawing the blade at her hip, Shadiyah gripped the doorknob and turned. She took in a breath and then gave a hard shove, forcing the door open. Even the act of holding her breath did not entirely save her from the wall of acrid stink that rolled from the room in a wave that could almost be felt.
Backing up the hall, Shadiyah set herself in place and waited for Miranda to emerge from the room. It took long enough that she had almost given up the vigil to go see what was taking the girl so long.
When Miranda stepped from the room, she was still engulfed in the blackness of the gloom that intensified the farther down the hall you went. So it was actually not until the scrawny figure stepped into the gray interior of the living room that Shadiyah got an actual look at the pathetic form that had once been Miranda Wood. What she saw made her gasp, and it had nothing to do with the fact that the girl was a zombie.
No, it was the dark stain around the zombie’s mouth.
Considering what she knew and could deduce from the situation, she reached a logical if not tragic conclusion: Simon had been bitten by his sister.
She glanced around to ensure that she had enough room for what needed to be done. Surprisingly, she took no happiness or joy in driving her blade into the face of Miranda. The body crumpled and was still. For reasons that she could not understand, Shadiyah cleaned her blade, put it away, and then returned the still corpse of Miranda Wood to her room where she placed her in bed and covered her with the slightly fouled sheet that was crumpled and in a pile at the foot of the bed.