by RR Haywood
‘Get the shotguns ready,’ I call out, ‘someone break that window and see what it’s like down the bottom.’ Cookey uses the shaft of his axe to beat the glass out and I hope to hell it falls down and slices Darren’s face off. He rakes the shaft round clearing the shards away and sticks his head out.
‘How is it?’ I shout over to him.
‘You don’t want to know,’ he ducks back in, ‘fucking loads of them down there.’
‘Still?’ Nick asks.
‘We’re only killing a few at a time,’ Dave explains.
‘Fuck…’ Cookey says, ‘fuck…’he repeats and like the rest of us he shrugs it off and stands up ready with his shotgun.
‘Ready,’ he shouts and strides over to the top of the stairs. We join him and shout for Clarence and Lani to fall back. Lani goes first, ordered by Clarence. She scoots through and drops down with her chest heaving. I pick up a bottle of water and go to hand it to her but she’s dropped down on her hands and knees breathing hard. She’s fit enough to run for miles but swinging a heavy axe has clearly drained her.
‘You’re doing well,’ I say quietly. The first of the shotguns fires, followed by more and the sounds of the guns breaking open and fresh cartridges being shoved in.
‘Rest for a minute,’ I twist the lid from the top of the water bottle and use one hand to lift her chin up while I pour water gently down her face and then the back of her neck. She breathes with her mouth open and even in this light I can see she looks flushed. She turns round to rest with her back against the wall and I hand her the bottle, ‘drink and rest for a minute.’
‘Thanks,’ she says softly and presses the bottle to her lips. Standing up I see Blowers and Cookey looking down with concern.
‘She okay?’ Cookey asks.
‘I’m fine,’ she says her voice as strong as ever.
‘Well get back down and fuck ‘em up some more then,’ Cookey retorts and gets a middle finger in response from Lani.
We rest for a minute or so, using the shotguns to blast them back down and when my turn comes I watch with satisfaction as the power of the weapons stands true and blows their heads apart.
‘They’ve stopped,’ Nick shouts as he aims his unfired gun into the darkness. We gather round and stare down, looking at mangled bodies but nothing else.
‘Get ready to move back,’ I say quietly guessing Darren is gathering a load to send up together and press the attack.
‘MR HOWIIIIEEEEEEE,’ my guess is right as his mocking tones bounce up the stairs to me.
‘Smithy, how are you mate?’
‘Er…its Darren now please Mr Howie,’ he yells back.
‘Oh is it…’
‘Yeah it is…how are you doing up there? We got one didn’t we?’
‘Just the one so far Smithy, not that good considering how many we’ve killed.’
‘Oh I’ve got plenty more yet.’
‘Have you now…tell you what Smithy, why don’t you grow a pair and come up yourself? Me and you Smithy, no weapons, just me and you.’
‘Yeah right! What and that little cuntrunt Dave is just going to stand and watch?’
‘They won’t do anything Smithy, you have my word. Come up and we’ll end this.’
‘Oh Mr Howie…’
‘You’re a fucking coward Smithy. You send all these things to do something you’re too scared to do yourself.’ I bellow down.
‘FUCK YOU…’ He screams in utter rage.
‘NO DARREN…’ a female voice yells
‘Get off me Marcy; I’m not a fucking coward.’
‘Yes he is…’ Cookey shouts.
‘Marcy? Is that your name? I saw you earlier. I’m Howie, it’s very nice to meet you Marcy.’ I keep my tone very polite knowing it’ll wind him up.
‘Hello Howie,’ a sultry voice floats up and I look round to see Blowers and Cookey smiling, eyebrows raised.
‘So you don’t want to send Smithy up then?’ I ask.
‘No,’ she answers simply.
‘Well how about you then? It’s not too late Marcy. You’ve picked the wrong side.’
‘Thank you Howie but I’m fine where I am,’ a hint of humour in her voice, ‘er…I don’t have to call you Mr Howie too do I?’
‘Of course not, so how’s this going to end Marcy? When will Smithy realise we won’t stop until every one of those things is dead…including him.’
‘Oh Darren won’t lose Howie,’ her sultry husky tones sound out, ‘maybe you should come and join us…I would like that very much,’ her voice drops to an even more sultry tone and I just catch the sound of muffled voices. Darren getting angry at her overtly flirtatious manner.
‘Well….that’s a very kind offer but I will have to pass.’
‘That’s a great shame Howie…we could have gotten to know each other better.’
‘True, tell me, seeing as you can talk and think the same as before. Why stick with Darren? Come with us and maybe we can find a cure. We’ve got doctors and equipment that can help you.’
‘Well now Howie…if I came up those stairs and surrendered myself to you, your lovely boys would kill me instantly.’
‘No they won’t Marcy. I promise you.’
‘But how would you know I wouldn’t bite you Howie…would you tie me up?’ the tone she inflects is so downright flirty that my mouth drops open in surprise, looking round I can see most of the others are the same too, apart from Cookey who is grinning like a Cheshire cat and loving every minute of it.
‘Come up here and try it you rancid diseased whore,’ Lani’s voice booms down the stairs to the shock of everyone else. ‘And it is Mr Howie to you…bitch.’
‘Oh Howie…got yourself a lady friend. Is that the girl with the dark hair I saw you with? She is very pretty…for an Asian girl that is.’
‘You said we couldn’t use racism.’
‘Shut up Darren,’ Marcy snaps back in a harsh tone.
‘Yeah shut up Darren,’ Cookey mocks, ‘do as you’re told there’s a good boy.’
‘Was that her idea to wear those trousers like that Smithy?’ Nick shouts down.
‘Fuck off Nick,’ his voice screams up which sets the lads laughing.
‘Yeah Nick…fuck off,’ Cookey mocks again in a camp voice while I look at Lani in puzzlement. She glances round to see me staring and smiles, giving a faint shrug of her shoulders, ‘Sorry but I didn’t like her,’ she says quietly.
‘No, don’t apologise…its fine.’ Dave slips behind me and draws my pistol from my belt. Silently he starts creeping down the stairs with the handgun and torch held out in front of him. He looks round at Cookey and motions for him to keep going.
‘Smithy…How many boy zombies have you bummed so far?’
‘Fuck you Cookey… I’m not Blowers.’
‘Ha, Blowers even the twat super zombie knows you like bumming,’ Cookey laughs.
Dave reaches the bend and quickly darts round, switching the torch on and firing down with quick successive bangs. I hear the sound of bodies falling and more scrambling to move away. Dave finishes the magazine and climbs back up.
‘Almost but he was covered,’ Dave shakes his head as the horde suddenly start charging up with a nasty snarl.
Back to work we go. Using the shotguns to drive them back but quickly giving ground as they really press the attack home. Within seconds we’re across the landing and round the next bend at the start of the next flight of stairs. Each one of us works to re-load and fire as quickly as possible. We get constant kills in and with every gun firing twice I know we must be culling their numbers, little by little but at least we’re doing it.
‘Hand weapons,’ I give the order to switch seeing the narrower stairwell on the second flight and knowing it’ll be easier to hold them back. Taking first stand I ready myself as they pour across the landing and sweep round the curvature. Axe ready , I swing out chopping the first one down and lifting the double blade up and into the groin of the next one. They both tumble down an
d I slam down into the next one making it fall into the heap of the other two. The next one uses the heap of bodies as a spring board and launches itself at me. The axe catches him mid-air and slams him into the wall but I have to give ground in case they keep doing it. More kills and I swap round when my arms start to feel jaded. Taking it in turns we hack and kill, slowly reducing their numbers. The minutes tick into hours and we slowly rotate, giving ground slowly but surely. Drinking water and breathing hard every time we take a break. Lani insists on taking her turn again and stands out front with determination and sheer guts. Swinging the axe with all her might and chopping them down one after the other.
I hand her a bottle of water as she drops back to let Clarence take over and she gulps it down after giving me a quick smile. All of us, well maybe apart from Dave, feel the fatigue kicking in. Tiredness starts creeping into our limbs and any conversation we have is stilted and abrupt. Tom takes his turn quietly and fights with passion, clearly using the time to give vengeance for the loss of his close mate. Then it’s back to me and I take my glorious axe and stand in position.
The first one comes charging in with a howl, drooling lips pulled back to show me his yellow stained teeth. As I slam the axe down into his head something snaps in me. The righteous glory of battle descends and I feel my limbs come back to life. Just as they did at the end of that big fight when I was on my knees. Each swing of the axe seems calculated and intense. Every slash takes one down and I’m already eyes up watching the next one come. The pressure builds in me and I roar my defiance out. Screaming into the darkness I kill them quickly. We’ve been giving ground since we started but maybe we should take a bit back. I step down and repeat my killing blows, watching undead after undead drop before my eyes. My eyes that paint the target for the axe. The axe that is as much a part of me as my heart. My heart that beats pure clean blood and sends me down to do battle with these filthy spawning creatures. Every step I take down is a victory for mankind. They keep coming but my movements get faster and faster until I am one with my weapon. Slicing left, right, up, down. Each one a killing blow. My feet are firm and my steps do not falter and I take back the ground we gave to them.
Time ceases to flow. Everything is paused as I descend into the bowels of darkness. I don’t need light to show me the way. I don’t need anything but what I am right now. In this holy place I feel strong, powerful yet strangely humbled. Humbled that I have been allowed to use this gift in such a way. They come at me harder and faster than ever before. They surge and lunge. They gnash their teeth but I smile at them. I show them a death full of grace and pity but one delivered with brutal honesty. Still they come and still they die and still I keep moving forward. I hear nothing but the sound of the axe moving through the air. I see nothing but the target in front of me.
The landing. I move across the landing and tread firmly over the bodies already downed. The stairwell is wider here and I give thanks that I can stretch my swings out and move with more room. I plough on. Nothing exists. Time and space are a memory, a thing of inconsequential nothingness that doesn’t belong in this place. Left. Right. Up. Down. I kill and they die.
Back at the top of the landing I feel a burst of strength and my movements become even faster and I clear them away with such speed that it all seems too slow for me. Then suddenly there’s a gap and I’m standing at the top of the landing staring out of the window at the bright moon.
‘Drop back Mr Howie,’ Dave pulls the axe from my hands and takes my place at the top of the stairs. I do as instructed and move back. Everyone stares at me, mouths hanging open and eyes wide. I feel tired now. Bone weary and tired but I feel peace within me and I take the bottle of water that Lani hands me and drink the cool satisfying liquid down.
‘Thanks, that was nice,’ I hand the bottle back and she stares at me with a puzzled expression. I look to my right and see Clarence watching me too, he is shaking his head and a small wry smile forms on his mouth.
‘That’s twice you’ve done that now boss,’ he rumbles.
‘Ah well, I fancied a change of tactic for a minute.’
‘Fuck me Mr Howie…I hope I never piss you off,’ Cookey says with a look of such awe that it makes me feel uncomfortable.
‘Nick, have you got any smokes mate?’
‘Yeah sure, hang on,’ he drags a packet out from a pocket and taps one out, hands it to me with a lighter. Once lit I inhale and lean against the wall with my back to everyone else. The sense of peace is stunning. A tranquil soothing sensation that comes up from deep within me, but leaves me so tired and weary.
‘Here, I was saving this but you can have it…I think you might need it,’ Lani hands me a bottle of coke. I smile back and twist the cap off before taking a big gulp of the wonderfully sugary fluid.
‘Ah that is bloody nice,’ I hand it back, ‘pass it round, I think we all need some.’ There is a yell from Dave and suddenly we’re moving back from a fresh attack pressed home by an incredibly fierce load of undead.
Driven back we slowly ascend the stairs as this new lot drive forward with an as yet unseen level of violence. These must be the best ones that Darren was holding back. They look less decayed than any other zombies I’ve seen. The only visibly injuries are just small bite marks to their necks.
‘I think you’ve pissed them off,’ Blowers yells as he fights like a demon himself. He slams his axe back and forth but we’re driven further back and up the stairs.
We start using shotguns firing from underneath the person out front such is the desperation of their attack. Firing and re-loading and still giving ground. Higher and higher up the narrowing staircase we go, twisting round and round. Clarence takes over at the front but the restricted space makes it hard for him to move easily. He fights for a few minutes still being pressed back.
‘We’re at the top,’ Lani shouts. Glancing round I see the moonlight shining down onto the stairs.
‘Fall back and get ready to close the door,’ I shout loudly and the others swiftly obey, running up into the clear air. Staying right behind Clarence, Dave and I guide him backwards until he suddenly flattens himself against the wall and Dave takes over, using his knives to good effect in the confined space. With short, sharp slashes he kills them one by one. Leaving Dave to hold the stairs I stagger out into what I was hoping would be lovely cool air but instead feels far too warm and muggy for the middle of the night.
Leaning over the chest high railing I look down and see a few bodies dotted about but not too many.
‘Cookey, are there less than when you looked earlier?’ He leans over and examines the grounds round the bottom.
‘A lot less Mr Howie,’ he grins that infectious grin and drops back down. The platform skirts the square shaped tower in a narrow walkway. There are no other exits so we have to hope and pray we can hold them off.
‘Just a couple more hours and it’ll be getting light,’ Blowers stares out at the darkened town and the orange glow coming from the fire raging in the distance.
‘If we get out of this I’m going straight down to the beach to cool off in the sea,’ Nick sighs and wipes the sweat from his face.
‘I’m up for that mate,’ I reply.
‘That’s after the cooked breakfast with loads of toast and coffee,’ he adds wistfully.
‘And fresh orange juice,’ I add to the dream and regret it instantly as it makes the reality taste as sour as it really is.
‘Who is going after Dave?’
‘Er…Mr Howie…’ Tom says suddenly with a tone of urgency. I join him leaning over the rail and staring down at the ground. At the dark figures standing around something that flickers and flares brightly. Then more of them flare up until there’s a row of bright things. My tired eyes take a few seconds to send the images to my brain for processing and what I’m looking at banishes all tiredness within a split second.
‘Mr Howie they’ve pulled back again,’ Dave yells through the door.
‘I bet they have…they’re gonna bu
rn us out.’ I shout back. With alarmed yelps everyone rushes over to look down. The flaming things, whatever they are get carried towards the church and out of view.
‘They’re setting the church on fire,’ Clarence says, his voice calm and natural.
‘Options? We can fight our way down or try and wait it out,’ I race round the walkway peering over the side. The tower is high and it would mean instant death to jump from here. The tower is joined to the main building but that’s still a good 15 feet below us and the roof is sharply angled. A wrong landing and we would just slide down the side and fall into their laps. The only option is to go back down the stairs and fight our way through the horde and out into the open. Unless Darren has pulled all his zombies back and left us a clear exit which is not likely. Not likely at all.
‘Here Mr Howie,’ Nick calls out. He is shining his torch over the side, ‘thick drainpipe,’ he points, as I rush over to him.’ That should hold our weight.’ The wrought iron drainage pipe is bolted to the wall and must be strong if it’s to take all the water from this roof.
‘It might hold Dave and Lani, maybe us but definitely not Clarence,’ I reply.
‘It might do Mr Howie, I’ll try it,’ Nick clambers up to the ledge and starts easing himself over the other side.
‘What’s he doing?’ Clarence joins me looking down and I tell him about the drainpipe. We watch as Nick leans down and starts tugging on the pipe, then holding his weight with both hands he rests his foot on it and slowly shifts his weight.
‘It’s not moving,’ he stares back up.
‘Okay, get back up mate, Clarence can you pull that wiring down’ I point up to the thick electric cable snaking round the tower and providing a power supply to the lamps positioned to illuminate the spire at night. With his bare hands Clarence yanks one end from the lamp and follows it round snapping it free from the wall connectors. The rest gather at the railings looking down at the drainpipe Nick points out.