by RR Haywood
I step through a gap in the wall and onto the promenade. It looks nice, clean and fresh. Flower beds and pretty little gardens. The narrow road seems to loop round a long deep depression in the ground. I cross the road and see the depression is a lake. Big white plastic pedalo’s shaped like swans are tied up in the middle and shit loads of real swans swim about. The pond is oval shaped with a building at one end. I walk towards the building, humming to myself and watching the swans.
The building has a swimming pool inside. Looking through the window I see a corpse floating in the water face down. Stupid cunt must have drowned. Who goes swimming when the zombie apocalypse is upon them? Stupid fucking Isle of Shite people, inbred with webbed feet probably. I bet the super zombie here is an inbred fucktard too, making all the poor normal zombies do all the work while he shags his sister. Dirty fucking inbred cunt.
There’s no sign of life here. Ha, no sign of life. What did I expect? A street party? Fuck you. I keep walking along the promenade heading towards the shitty town. The road is bordered on one side by big houses set back behind long gardens. Probably where they sat and wanked themselves off at how lucky there were to live here. Before long I’m near the town, passing a bowling alley and ice rink. I duck down quickly, seeing a group of figures in the distance. There’s dried and congealed blood all over the place here. Rotting corpses litter the street. Signs of zombie mayhem everywhere and my little zombie heart flutters at the promising sight. I move forward, cautiously flitting between walls and smashed up vehicles until I get close enough to see the figures are my lovely brothers and sisters all gathered in front of the front door’s to a big hotel. I stay still for a few minutes and check there are no hero’s nearby, wielding axes or trying to be like super golden bollocks Howie. Nothing obvious so I saunter across the road.
The thick fucking idiots don’t notice me coming. No wonder they’re so easy to kill if they don’t take the time or effort to even glance around once in a while. They smell wonderful, rotten, rancid and fetid. I breathe deeply, inhaling the magical aroma and admiring their advanced state of decomposition. They really haven’t been taking care of themselves very well. They look hungry the poor blighters. I stand for a few minutes with my arms crossed, they still don’t notice me. So I cough politely and watch as they start to shuffle round until they’re all facing me.
‘Take me to your leader,’ I command, half joking but they just stare back at me. Stupid cunts. I try to focus and get into their minds like I did before with my lot. I can’t connect though. Some of them are standing at the top of some steps, constantly walking forward into a closed door. I walk up the stairs, pushing them gently away until I reach the door. I push the handle down and pull it open, stupid fucking fuckwits would have stood there for eternity waiting for the magical wall to move out of the way. They groan louder and start shuffling into the lobby of the hotel. Once inside I realise why they were standing outside. The smell of human’s is strong here. There are survivors inside. The group stagger forward, heads lolling about and feet shuffling along the floor. For a laugh I act like they do, rolling my head about and pushing drool out of my mouth but it gets boring and I give up within a couple of minutes.
The smell of the humans drives them on and I can’t help but get caught up in the moment of the chase. The sense of urgency increases as the scent grows stronger. Body odour both stale and fresh, shit and piss. I can even smell vomit and it’s like rose water to my nose. The biggest scent is fear, I can smell their fear. It’s mixed in the sweat and leaves a pheromone trail which the zombies pick up on like ants.
The hotel has an old style décor, with dark wood doors and walls. Old floral wallpaper and gilt picture frames adorn the walls. The horde follow corridors, stopping each time they reach a fire door that opens inwards, too stupid to figure out how to pull the handle. The thing inside me was smart and enabled me to drive my brethren on, I could manipulate and make them love me, make them adore me and I’m frustrated that these moronic shambling creatures are not responding to me. I keep up with them, opening doors and gaining them access to the succulent brains they so desire. This fucking hotel is like a rabbit warren; fucking corridors everywhere. We’re like foxes hunting the rabbits down, terrier dogs sent in to flush them out. I ate a little white bunny rabbit a few hours ago. Poor little white bunny hopping about with his long velvety ears and then nasty zombie Smithy comes along and takes a big bitey witey out of him.
The horde stop ahead of me, prevented from moving forward by yet another door. This one has a sign warning of a steep staircase beyond. Ahh, they’re hiding in the cellar. The good old fashioned cellar eh, those cheeky little survivors thinking they can tuck themselves away in the dark recesses. Judging by the smell, they must have been down there the whole week, shitting in pots and drinking their own piss. Well they didn’t reckon on meeting Smithy the super zombie did they. Cunts. Speaking of which, I turn to the nearest undead.
‘Have you got a super zombie in charge round here?’ I ask him, he drools back at me with those gorgeous red eyes staring blankly. Poor sod, he looks hungry.
‘Come on chum; let’s see if we can’t get you some lunch eh? I try the handle but the door is locked securely from within. It’s a solid door and it will take some effort to batter it down. I clear my throat and knock on the door, three heavy knocks and I smile at the thought of the people inside all shitting themselves and staring up the staircase.
I knock again and start giggling, the zombies round me are groaning and I put my finger to my lips and try to shush them quiet.
‘Be quiet or they’ll hear us,’ I giggle again and knock again, harder this time.
‘Hello?’ I shout out, ‘is anyone there?’ No response and I knock again.
‘Er hello? Listen I know you’re down there. I have some very hungry zombies up here so will you please open up and let us eat your brains….please.’ Still no response.
‘Listen, we’re not going away and we will get in.’ I bang my foot against the door repeatedly; the sound echoes round the corridor and shakes the frame.
‘Come on! We just want one of you. I can tell you’ve got a whole group down there. Just send one out and we’ll leave you alone.’ I press my ear to the door, listening to the low murmur of voices. I start banging my foot again. Steady and rhythmic, knowing it must be scaring the shit out of them. My nose twitches and I scent that we are literally scaring the shit out of at least one of them.
‘Just one, come on just send one out. We’ll eat him or her really quickly and I promise they won’t suffer.’ The murmurings intensify; several voices now then the tread of soft footsteps coming up the staircase behind the door. I listen intently as the footsteps get closer until they stop, the person must be standing on the other side of the door now. I pull my foot back, slam it into the door and hear someone jump back.
‘Ha, made you jump didn’t I?’
‘What do you want?’ A male voice calls out, a deep voice trying to sound confident and strong.
‘Brains…we want brains,’ I laugh at myself, ‘no but seriously we do need something to eat please. Can you send one out, just an old one. A shitty hotel like this must have been packed with old duffers. Just send the oldest one out, that’ll do us.’
‘Fuck off mate, there’s a few of us down here and we’re armed too. Try and get in and see what happens.’
‘Hey no need for that aggression is there?’
‘You sick fucking…fucking…’
‘Fucking what? Sick fucking what?’
‘Well you’re just sick.’
‘Good comeback.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘No you fuck off.’
‘Get fucked.’
‘No you get fucked.’
‘We’re not opening the door and if you try and get in we’ll cut you to pieces.’
‘No you get cut to pieces.’
‘What?’
‘That one didn’t work very well did it?’
‘Not re
ally.’
‘Can we try again?’
‘Try what?’
‘Exchanging insults.’
‘Listen mate, just fuck off.’
‘Ah thanks, er…no you fuck off.’
‘This is stupid, go away.’
‘No you’re stupid.’
‘Do you want them things to find you? You fucking idiot.’
‘What things…er…you’re the fucking idiot.’
‘Stop doing that.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Repeating things back to me.’
‘No you stop repeating things.’
‘If you keep making so much noise they’ll find you, now piss off and make some noise somewhere else.’
‘They already found me.’
‘Who did?’
‘Those things…the zombies…they already found me. I am one.’
‘What!?’
‘I am one of those things.’
‘Don’t be so bloody stupid now piss off before they get you.’
‘No, really I am one. Actually, to be honest I’m a super zombie.’
‘You bloody dick, piss off.’
‘No really I am. These others just stand about drooling but I can speak and think.’
‘Oh yeah, and how did that happen then?’
‘Well, to cut a long story short; I was a recruit for the territorial army at Salisbury when this happened. We got through the weekend but then this bloke called Howie, and his mate Dave came and sort of rescued us to try and get this big vehicle called a Saxon. We helped them and had a big fight and then went to London to try and rescue his sister. But on the way we got stuck at some services and loads of zombie rats tried getting us. I reckon I got infected then but I’m not too sure on that point. Anyways… we carried on and met this bloke called Chris and his mates Clarence and Malcolm. We went to a hospital to get some things for their commune and then tried to get the sister. Big battle, lots of blood. I got dragged in and turned and McKinney got chomped a bit too. So that’s when I became a super zombie and I made all the other zombies be in my army. Saw Howie on Tower Bridge, we shouted at each other a bit; you know… difference of artistic direction, that kind of thing. He said some things, I said some things. I said my army was going to get him, he said his army was going to get all the other zombies. Ended up with us, my zombie army that is, chasing him down to this fort on the coast. But, things didn’t quite work out really. Dave, Howie’s mate that is, well he set these traps and loads of my zombies got killed. Then there was a big battle and well, if I’m honest about it, I didn’t really plan that well and we kind of lost. But I did manage to get a few of his mates killed, er, I think it was Curtis, Tucker and Malcolm, maybe more. Definitely Jamie though, I got him myself. So, long story short I had to leg it figuring that Howie was coming after me, but then I found this rabbit and it made me think of the Isle of Wight and I realised he’d sent them all here.’
‘Who sent what here?’
‘Oh sorry, I meant Howie; he sent the women and children here. That’s why I’m here; to get them before he does.’
‘What? What for?’
‘To eat them of course, have you not been listening?’
‘You need help.’
‘Are you volunteering?’
‘Not that kind of help, you need mental help.’
‘So, that’s where we are now. I’m looking about to try and find them and I saw my brothers and sisters looking hungry so I thought I’d try and help them out.’
‘You’re nuts. Fucking nuts. Piss off.’
‘No you piss off, no hang on; I’m not doing that again. Listen, we will get in and chomp everyone if we have to, or…you can chuck an old one out.’
‘It’s some lunatic saying he’s a super zombie,’ the man shouts down the stairs, ‘I have told him to piss off.’
This hotel is old, and the cellar would have been used for storing all manner of things in the old days before fridges and freezers. There must be another entrance at street level, so they could take deliveries without having to go through the hotel and scare the old fuckers. I move away and start heading back down the corridor, to my pleasant surprise the horde follow me. I wasn’t expecting that. Leading them back through the corridors we reach the front door and go outside, the horde following close behind me. I have to move slowly because of their daytime shuffle.
Outside I spy a set of railings fixed round some concrete steps leading to a wooden door with a small hatch cut into it at head height. I pull the gate open and head down, my horde follow me until we’re all crammed into the bottom and backed up on the stairs. I try again to connect to them, so I can send some round to the other door we were just at, but I just can’t seem to do it now.
I bang on the door again, call out and wait for a few seconds. The same voice from the other door calls out, telling me to fuck off.
‘Open the hatch and you’ll see I’m a super zombie.’
‘You’re a fucking nut is what you….’ The man’s mouth falls open and his voice trails off as he peers out of the now open hatch. Metal bar’s prevent me from lunging at him.
‘Hiya!’ I lift my hand and wiggle my fingers, smiling in all my dirty undead glory.
‘Fuck me…’
‘No thanks, I’m not that kind of zombie. Now about that lunch we were discussing.’
‘Jesus, you’re one of them.’
‘Don’t call me that, and yes I am one of them, sort of, kind of.’
‘But you can speak.’
‘Well fuck a duck, look who’s being Mr clever clogs.’ He stares back open mouthed and turns to say something to the people inside. More faces squeeze into view, peering out at me. I smile and nod politely at them in turn.
‘Hi. Hello there. Nice to meet you. How are you today? All the time grinning and wiggling my fingers at them. The first man comes back into view.
‘Can you see my horde?’ I motion to the side and watch him leaning over to look up the stairs, taking in all the mortified drooling undead. He looks back and nods.
‘Good, now we’re on the same frequency John…’
‘My name isn’t John.’
‘You look like a John, anyway John, now we’re on the same level. How about our deal eh?’
‘What deal?’ He sounds shocked to the core and the scent of fear has increased rapidly causing my little horde to get all agitated.
‘Now now John, we had a deal. You’re going to send someone out for us to eat. My little lambs here need some nourishment.’
‘I can’t….We can’t….please.’
‘Oh you will John, you will send someone out because you know what the alternative is don’t you John? Yes you do. One or all. I will get inside one way or the other; I could burn this door down, or maybe even set fire to the hotel. There’s no fire service anymore John, no police and you can swing your knives and weapons about all day long but once we’re inside you are all dead, now I will give you a minute to send someone out or we’re coming in.’
‘Please mate, I can’t…’
‘Time is ticking John and it’s not far from getting dark. You know what happens when it gets dark don’t you John.’ He nods back, leaning over again to look at the undead around me.
‘Please don’t do this, please just leave us alone.’ His voice is pleading, tears stream down his face. More sobs and crying come from inside.
‘Up to you John,’ I turn and start going through the pockets of my zombies, pulling out bits of paper and receipts. Eventually I find what I’m looking for.
‘Ah, here we are,’ I take the lighter and set fire to a piece of paper. It’s only small but I drop it down to the bottom of the door and start adding more bits of paper and dried leaves that have gathered in the disused stairwell. Smoke starts billowing out and from the screams inside I know it’s going into the cellar.
‘Okay, okay,’ John who is not John shouts in alarm.
‘What’s that John?’
‘Okay, put it out,
put it out,’ screams and sobs emanate from inside joined by raised voices, loud and aggressive. ‘We’ll send someone out,’ his voice breaks with emotion. I stamp down on the small flames, quickly extinguishing them.
‘That can be started again very quickly John.’
‘We’ll do it, I swear but if we open this door you’ll try and get in,’ he’s sobbing hard now, not so much the tough guy anymore is he? Stupid fat cunt.
‘If we send one out do you promise to leave us alone?’ He begs.
‘No I don’t fucking promise anything you fat turd now send one out or I’ll torch this fucking building down and eat you while you’re cooking.’ The hatch slams shut and I lean forward smiling at the shouting and bedlam going on inside. ‘Lunch is almost ready, have you washed your hands? No, oh well,’ I smile at my lovelies all watching me expectantly.
‘Please, please just move back, we’ll send him out now.’
‘Roger dodger,’ I call back, pushing my beautiful babies back up the stairs, ‘come on, come on move back a little.’ We get to the top and gather round the railings, staring down into the basement. The hatch opens quickly and John who is not John quickly looks out, I wave down at him and the hatch slams shut at the same time as the door opens. An old man walks quickly out and stands there as the door is slammed shut again.
‘Hello,’ I smile down at him. He looks up, tall, straight backed and dignified. He looks ancient and weathered but not scared. He looks back at me without fear, staring into my eyes.