The Undead the Second Week Compilation Edition Days 8-14

by RR Haywood

  I wish they were here now so I could rip their faces off with my teeth. Behind the bar I grab a couple of bottles of spirits and head back down the road, stopping to tear a strip of some already half naked dead woman reveller. Fucking slut, running around with her tits bouncing about and flashing her thong about. Yeah not so hot now are you, I spit on her face to show my distaste for her choice of skimpy clothing. The spittle lands obscenely on her cheek and starts sliding down. The material won’t tear and I get frustrated, kicking her in her already decomposing stomach. The skin rips apart and covers my shoes in her filthy stinking innards.

  ‘Fucking whore,’ I spit down again and wipe my dirty shoes on her face and hair. The next corpse yields his top easily enough as I yank it from him and set off back down the street towards the seafront.

  At the bottom a sign for a shop catches my eye and makes me turn back. A newsagents and convenience store, with a sign advertising local guide books. I scoot over and find it’s already been well looted with crap and debris all over the floor.

  ‘Messy fuckers,’ I tut again as I work my way to the back where the magazines are displayed. I see the thick fucking looters didn’t take any reading material with them.

  ‘That’s the problem with this country, distinct lack of education,’ I mutter to myself as I root through the shitty little pamphlets, ‘I blame the parents myself, aah what’s this, what’s this?’ I pick up a local guide book and start flicking though but it’s too dark for even my super charged wonderfully infected lovely red bloodshot zombie eyes to read.

  Outside in the moonlight I flick through the pages as I walk along the promenade and back towards the hotel with the cellar full of my supper. The stupid fucking book is full of wanky adverts, telling me where to eat and what shop to get my clothes from, telling me I can get two meals for the price of one on Tuesdays between 2pm and 2.05pm. Fucking cunts, that’s what ruined this world. Stupid fucking adverts written by stupid fuckwits, and education of course. No wonder we had to take over. Saving the world is what we’re doing really. Fuck, it would be ruined if left to these stupid cheese eaters, blowing each other up and boring everyone to death. Look at it now, it’s Saturday night on a mid-summer evening and I’m in a holiday town filled with pubs and not a fight in sight. Much better. Mrs Miggins could safely walk her dog through here, well if she was a zombie walking a zombie dog she could anyway.

  Can dogs get infected? Fuck it; I’ll try it when I find one. I hate dogs, nasty fucking things with big teeth showing off because they can piss up things and shit where they want.

  Reaching the railing I tuck the tour guide into my waistband and stare down at the cellar door before easing the gate open and sneaking down the stairs. I empty both bottles of spirits onto the ground and slink back up a few steps, stopping to soak the material in the liquid. At the top, I move round so I’m closer to the main door and light the material with the lighter I sourced earlier. It flames instantly so I drop it over the railings and watch as the flammable liquid ignites. Chuckling to myself I run up the stairs and back through the hotel door, working my way back through the corridor towards the other cellar door.

  It’s pitch black in here but that suits me perfectly. I find the door and wait for a few seconds until I hear the low murmurs, then the raised voices and finally the panicked screams and shouts as they realise one of their exits is on fire. The place must be full of smoke already because I can hear loads of coughing coming from down there. They’re arguing and trying to figure out what they should do, someone shouts to get out; someone else shouts it could be a trap, the first one shouts it doesn’t matter if they all get burnt to death. That seems to do the trick and the next noise is people thundering up the stairs towards the door I’m standing behind.

  The door swings open and the first one staggers out coughing hard, smoke is pouring out of the cellar which is wonderful as it will mask my presence and make it more confusing. I slip out from behind the door and my eyes pick up the silhouette of a figure bent over and coughing hard. I slip in behind them and ease them away.

  ‘Come on quick,’ I say with pretend concern. The figure, a woman by the feel of the fleshy mounds hanging down from inside her top, responds easily enough and lets me lead her away a few metres. I clamp my hand over her mouth nice and hard and take a chunk out of the back of her neck, tearing the flesh apart and sucking on the blood. She squirms and tries to fight but it only takes seconds before she slumps down to the ground.

  I go back towards the door and find someone else staggering about blindly and coughing, the trick works again and I lead this one a few meters until he trips over the body on the floor and falls down. I land on top of him, scrabbling to cover his mouth while I gnash my teeth into his stomach. I bite down and savage through the flesh, he screams loudly and I hear more people running my way. I jump and shout, ‘quick, he’s fallen over,’ they come running in and everything erupts into sweet bedlam with me tearing at their flesh and dragging them down onto the floor. The smoke, their eyes stinging and watering and the almost pitch black of the corridor makes it impossible for them to see and I take full advantage of it.

  It’s over in minutes, a few escaped but I bit a couple of those that ran off so I know they’ll turn soon. Leaving my bodies in the corridor I descend the stairs into the cellar and find it’s a disused bar, like a speakeasy from the movies. Wooden bar, wooden tables and wooden chairs and even old beer mats on the bar top. Signs of the survivors are everywhere with stacks of tinned food, bottles of water and buckets overflowing with shit and piss. Dirty fuckers, how can they live like this? I’ve done them a favour really; bringing them over to my side. Better than living in this filth.

  The fire has taken hold over by the door and the whole place is filled with thick smoke. Good job I’m not living otherwise this would kill me, but even in my dead state I find it choking.

  A whimper makes me turn and head behind the bar to find a body tucked up in the foetal position. Must have crawled in here to die, rather than face the terror outside. The body whimpers again, long curly black hair covering a face and the gentle curves of a womanly form. I gently push the hair away and see a beautiful face, soft red lips and dark eyes framed by arching black eyebrows. Stunning woman, beautiful really and I gaze down at her for a few minutes until I realise the smoke and flames will over-power even me if I’m not careful. She’s alive, barely and I’m captivated by her exquisite beauty. I can’t leave her here to die, no way. She’s coming with me. I scoop her up in my arms, carry her out from behind the bar and up the stairs back into the darkened corridor. My new converts are waking up, groaning and mumbling away like the hungry little blighters they are.

  Carrying the woman I go back through the corridors and out the front door. The escaping survivors came this way too, I can smell them. Once outside I can see thick smoke billowing up from the cellar. I carry the woman to the wide pavement and gently lay her down on the ground. She makes small noises in her throat as I smooth her hair back and stroke her gorgeous face. She’s dressed in a filthy white blouse and black skirt; she must have been waitressing in the hotel when it happened.

  My undead heart hammers in my infected chest at the sight of her and the thought that I can bite this wonderful creature and take her blood. The newly undead circle around me, clearly sensing she’s still human but I growl up at them, marking my territory and they cower back. I can feel a connection with them which confirms what happened with the old boy. It seems I can keep what I bite, and biting this woman fills me with a sensual excitement. Surely nothing can be more intimate than sharing my blood with her so she can turn and join me.

  I lean down and hover over her skin, the smell of stale body odour, piss and shit is like perfume to me and I hold off biting her, drawing the torture out like I did with the old man, but this is way more torturous and exciting. My lips brush the side of her neck, then her cheek and her ear. I move down to her bare arms and feel the rush inside me. I don’t want to mark her, she’s to
o beautiful.

  With loving care I roll her onto her front and unzip the back of her skirt, the action just excites me even more and it gets worse when I tug her skirt down to reveal her perfect tanned bottom. Oh the smell of shit is strong here, so strong and the sight of her firm cheeks makes my mouth drool until strands of saliva are spooling down to glide down her skin and soak into her panties. My tongue darts out to lick her skin, it’s too much and I can’t hold back anymore. She comes to as I bite down, not too hard but enough to break the skin and feel her beautiful blood flow into my mouth. Her back arches and her hands claw at the pavement. I know it hurts my beauty but it’ll be over soon I promise. I bite down harder, unable to contain myself. The urge to burrow my head into her soft arse cheeks is so powerful, I want to eat her all up and have her inside me all the time. But I force myself to pull back, my head spins from the satisfaction and I lie on my back staring at the stars in an almost post coital ecstasy.

  Raising my head I look over at the massive flames now licking up from the basement, the cellar must be completely alight now.

  ‘Oops,’ I giggle quietly, ‘sorry about your hotel.’ I look over and realise my beauty is still lying there showing her arse off to the world and my hungry babies are edging closer.

  ‘Fuck off you dirty cunts,’ I snarl at them, ‘dirty nasty fucking cunts,’ I’m on my feet beating them about the head. They cower back, groaning softly as they’re beaten by their master. Yeah, I’m their master now. Fuck you Howie; you’re not the only one with groupies. I drop down so I’m almost squatting on the backs of her thighs, staring down at her lovely arse and the rapidly congealing wound.

  Small rivers of blood run sexily down her skin and I can’t help but drop down and lick at them, letting the metallic taste soak into my tongue. Pulling my head down I gently run my fingers over the unbitten arse cheek, feeling the soft warmth and by degrees I increase the pressure until I’m kneading the flesh, taking a big handful and squeezing until she whimpers again.

  She suddenly comes to, flipping over onto her back and crabbing backwards. Her eyes are wide and fearful, she glances up at the zombies standing nearby and lets out a scream.

  ‘Oh my god!’ she covers her mouth with her hand, glancing quickly between the zombies and me. She scuttles backwards until she’s a few metres away, wincing as her wounded arse cheek touches the ground. She reaches down to feel and her hand comes away covered in blood. She keeps staring at the zombies and her breathing is hard and fast like she’s hyperventilating.

  ‘Did you know them?’ I ask softly. She doesn’t answer, just stares at me, tears streaming down her face.

  ‘It won’t take long,’ I whisper to her. She looks terrified, truly terrified and I almost feel sorry for putting her through this, but know she’ll feel better in a few minutes.

  ‘Am I….Am I…?’ She stammers between breaths.

  ‘Yes, you’re bitten. It won’t take long. Just try and relax.’ She sobs hard, pitiful cries coming from her very soul. She scrabbles to her feet, holding the falling skirt up.

  ‘No…No…Please…’ She starts to back away.

  ‘It’s too late,’ I follow after her as she tries to run, limping and wincing with pain from her bitten bum

  ‘Please…No….,’ she tries to run faster but the infection is taking hold and she falls down onto the ground. I run to her side and try to cradle her in my arms. She fights back, screaming and beating at me with her fists.

  ‘No…please…no…’ Her thrashing becomes feebler with every passing second until she gives up and lies still in my arms. Her eyes dart about as her breathing becomes more laboured.

  ‘It’s okay, it’ll be okay…just go with it,’ I stroke her hair and speak softly, her dark eyes look up at me.

  ‘Does it hurt?’ She whispers as she grips my arm.

  ‘No, it doesn’t hurt. It feels wonderful, amazing. It’s the best feeling ever.’ She starting to slip now, fighting to stay awake and I can see she’s desperately clinging onto life and truly terrified of going under.

  ‘Just relax, don’t fight it. It’ll be over in seconds.’ She stares back me, clearly delirious but her words strike a chord in my heart.

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘Stay with me…’ her voice is barely a whisper. I remember how utterly terrified I was when they pulled me down in London. The thought of dying alone was unbearable and I too gripped at the zombie bodies and pulled them close, desperate for any action of embrace or words of comfort to ease my passing.

  With a final spasm she passes away. Her dying breath eases out of her lips and she goes limp. I stroke her head as the flames grow ever bigger behind me, illuminating her in a soft orange glow. Minutes pass and I caress her soft face, so beautiful in death. Then it comes; she jerks slightly and goes still. Jerks again and a spasm runs through her body like an electric current. She opens her eyes and stares straight up at me as I carry on stroking her face. Her eyes are red and bloodshot and the effect just makes her look even more sultry and stunning.

  ‘I promised it wouldn’t hurt didn’t I?’ Stroking her soft face I look down at the newest member of my horde. Her eyes fix on mine, her head not lolling and her body no longer twitching with spasmodic jerks.

  ‘Yes you did,’ she replies.

  Eleven

  They break though after a few hours, finally forcing the door open and using sheer body weight to push the barrier towards us.

  ‘They’ve given up on this one,’ Clarence calls, running into our room.

  ‘They’re all pushing on this side,’ I reply handing Clarence his shotgun.

  ‘Keep it; I’ll stick with the axe.’

  ‘Fair enough big man.’ Walking forward I lean over the barrier and shove the shotgun into the rapidly growing gap where the door is being pushed open. A zombie lunges in and tries biting the end of one of the guns. Four shots later and there’s a slight pause as the zombies not blown to bits lurch forward for another attack.

  ‘I fucking love these guns,’ I shout as Blowers runs in and takes a shot, followed by Cookey then Nick.

  ‘Save the rounds, there can’t be that many left,’ Dave says and I suspect he’s getting jealous at us racking the kills up with the sawn off weapons.

  ‘We’ve got loads of cartridges left,’ I smile at him.

  ‘Yeah but we don’t know what we’re going to meet or have to deal with and we might need them.’

  ‘Yeah but there’s loads of farms we can break into, and I bet a rural place like this has loads of gunsmiths.’

  ‘Yeah but we don’t know if anyone has already been and taken them.’

  ‘Yeah but it’s fun….I like sawn off shotguns,’ he realises I’m pissing about and chooses to ignore me, focussing on the barrier slowly giving way and the increasing groans coming from the undead forcing their way in.

  The barrier finally collapses. The first couple of undead trip over the furniture and land heavily but the rest surge through. Dave leaps into the fray before the rest of us have a chance to react. Knives drawn he sets about them with his amazing agility. Clarence moves forward and stands nearby with his axe, but every time he goes to swipe at one, Dave nips in and takes it down. The rest of us stand and watch, mesmerised by Dave. He holds a central position, letting them come to him but the way he flexes, stretches, drops down and pivots is extraordinary. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve seen this but it never ceases to amaze me and I don’t think it ever will. A noise to my side, Nick lighting a cigarette, he shrugs at me and I shrug back. Watching them it’s almost comical. The huge figure of Clarence wielding a double bladed axe and constantly trying to dart forward and the much smaller figure of Dave, slaughtering them with pathetic ease. Dave feints to the side and one slips past him only to be sliced in half by Clarence taking his frustration out with a powerful swing.

  The bodies stack up on the floor, creating another barrier to the rest outside. Dave steps back for a rest while we w
atch the undead try to climb the bloody corpses and slip back down into the corridor.

  ‘You missed one,’ Clarence states, very matter of fact.

  ‘I let him through for you.’

  ‘You missed him.’

  ‘I knew you were there so I let him through.’

  ‘I don’t need your charity,’ Clarence growls.

  ‘You were getting frustrated so I let you have one.’

  ‘You let me have one?’ Clarence steps closer to Dave, staring down at the little man.

  ‘Anger is an enemy and frustration causes mistakes,’ Dave replies, unflinching beneath the big man’s intense gaze.

  ‘What…did you say?’ Clarence goes bright red and I see his already huge arm muscles bulge as he tenses up.

  ‘Calm down, there’s plenty left,’ Dave’s tone strikes a chord and Clarence throws the axe down on the floor. Fuck me, the biggest man I’ve ever seen is about to have a fight with the most dangerous man I’ve ever seen. Nick and the other two keep glancing at me in alarm.

  ‘Lads…take it easy,’ I adopt a friendly tone. They completely ignore me and stand with eyes locked. There can’t be many men that can stare Clarence down but Dave tries, maybe not even realising what he’s doing.

  Clarence turns with incredible speed and pulls the barrier out of the way then kicks at the stacked up corpses, sending them flying into the undead behind them. He roars and leaps over them and straight into the zombies, his fists flying out and battering them with savage brutality. Dave turns and watches, his face completely devoid of expression. Clarence rages, roaring with anger as he lashes out. Punching with a staggering ferocity, he lashes backwards with his elbow, breaking the neck of an undead about to lunge at him from behind. He bends down and scoops up a body then starts using it like a battering ram, swatting the other zombies with the corpse. His strong legs strike down as he stamps on heads, crushing skulls. Seconds later it’s over, Clarence scans the corridor and seemingly satisfied he drops the body and steps back into the room.