The Undead the Second Week Compilation Edition Days 8-14

by RR Haywood

  ‘Oi Tom, do you fancy a smoke mate?’ Cookey called out. Tom turned to look at the group seated round a large table and saw Blowers motion to an empty chair in the middle of them. Lani already seated and smiling from a comment made by Nick. A small gesture but one of great meaning. An acceptance into the group and with a quick smile of his own he walked forward to sit amongst them.

  Blowers watches Tom speaking as Cookey goes to sit down in the chair next to him. Blowers blocks the seat quietly and gets a puzzled look from Cookey in return, he nods to Tom indicating the chair is for him. Cookey nods in understanding and takes the next one alone.

  ‘He did well,’ Cookey says quietly.

  ‘Yeah, shame about Steven,’ Blowers replies.

  ‘Shame about all of them,’ Cookey says with a sad look at his friend, ‘what now?’

  ‘Eh?’ Blowers snaps his mind back to the present.

  ‘What now?’ Cookey repeats, ‘back to the fort?’

  ‘Probably…’ Blowers nods.

  ‘Okay,’ Cookey says softly.

  ‘What?’ Blowers picks up on the tone of his normally jovial friend.

  ‘Nothing,’ Cookey hesitates, ‘I dunno, I just kind of like this.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Blowers asks.

  ‘Us, you know, just us lot being on the road and doing stuff together. Shit, sounds weird like that. I’m not saying I like it…like the whole end of the world thing but you know…being together like this.’

  ‘Feels safer?’ Nick cuts in leaning across Lani sat next to him.

  ‘Yeah like we know what we’re doing…shit it doesn’t make sense when I say it but I know what I mean in my head,’ Cookey screws his face up in concentration, ‘it’s like…well…’ his voice drops along with his gaze which stays fixed to his boots, ‘family or something,’ he mumbles expecting a torrent of abuse from Blowers and Nick he feels the first flush of shame burning his face.

  ‘Me too,’ Nick adds quietly with his own uncomfortable shuffle in the patio chair, ‘I wish Tucker was here and Jamie and Curtis. Especially Tucker…I miss his food.’ Lani smiles with sadness at the lads around her. She can feel the close bond between them. And from what they said there was quite a few before the big battle at the fort they came from. Now down to three but they protect each other like brothers under the watchful eye of Howie.

  ‘They were the best,’ Cookey adds in a muted tone, ‘Oi Tom do you fancy a smoke mate,’ he calls out seeing Howie move back inside and Tom left standing alone.

  ‘I don’t smoke,’ Tom smiles and moves over to the chair nodded at by Blowers, ‘thanks for asking though mate.’

  ‘No worries, so you were a copper then? How long were you in for?’ Cookey asks with a genuinely interested look.

  ‘That must have been a hard job,’ Nick asks before he can answer, ‘’I’d have loved to have been a policeman.’

  ‘Why didn’t you join up then?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Can’t read or write,’ Nick shrugs with a smile to show he’s over any form of embarrassment about it.

  ‘Really?’ Lani asks in surprise.

  ‘Yeah, severe dyslexia and well I just didn’t really bother at school…’

  ‘He’s bloody good at electrical stuff though,’ Cookey cuts in, keen to defend his friend from any shame, ‘he got Tower Bridge in London all rigged up…do you remember that?’ He laughs at Blowers.

  ‘Jesus that was brilliant,’ Blowers laughs at the memory watching Nick smile sheepishly, ‘the bridge splits in two right, so we had this massive horde coming at us and we were getting pinned down so Nick here, he goes into the control room and gets the thing working…’ Blowers breaks off laughing hard, more so because of Cookey starting to crack up… ‘he gets one end going up and down like this,’ he imitates the bridge with one forearm, ‘and this horde were coming over it so Nick waits until they get there and whoosh he lifts it up and they go flying… then he drops it down and waits for them to all stack up against the end of the other bit and whoosh it goes up again….funniest thing you ever saw.’

  ‘And he got the petrol pumps going at that garage,’ Cookey says wiping tears of laughter away.

  ‘Oh those rats,’ Nick shudders, ‘nasty. You remember that bloke on the roof?’

  ‘Oh that was bloody funny too, we drove off with his trousers on the Saxon,’ Blowers starts off again as Cookey bends over with his stomach hurting from laughing. Lani and Tom laugh as Blowers launches into a descriptive replay of the memory.

  ‘Jesus,’ Tom says after gaining control of his laughter, ‘you done some things you lot.’

  ‘We have,’ Nick nods slowly, ‘we’d have been dead many times though if it weren’t for Mr Howie and Dave.’

  ‘That roof we were saying about,’ Blowers cuts in, ‘well Mr Howie got isolated on his own downstairs. We were surrounded and it didn’t look good, rats and zombie filth everywhere. The Saxon was out in the car park with the big machine gun on the top. So Mr Howie decides…on his own…to charge the lot of them and make it to the Saxon so he can cut ‘em down and save us…’

  ‘Dave though,’ Cookey takes over, ‘Dave thought the same thing and wanted to save Mr Howie,’ he leans in speaking quieter, ‘he ditched his guns and screamed “Blowers you’re in charge” and launches himself off the roof, straight into the lot of them…only had his knives he did,’ he leans back shaking his head in wonder.

  ‘Christ,’ Tom exclaims, ‘so Howie charged them from the bottom and Dave went from the top…and they didn’t know what the other one was doing?’

  ‘No mate, they both figured one of them had to survive to protect us and get to Mr Howie’s sister.’

  ‘Fuck…’ Tom whispers, ‘last night when he did that thing… you know…going at them like that, so he’s done that before then?’

  ‘Yeah a few times,’ Blowers answers looking uncomfortable. Tom picks up on the slight shift in position and the quiet looks between Blowers, Cookey and Nick. ‘What?’ Tom asks, unable to restrain the instinctive policeman habit of asking questions.

  ‘Nothin’,’ Nick shrugs and lights another cigarette.

  ‘No Nick, what?’ Lani presses the question home having also picked up on the subtle looks between the three lads.

  ‘I dunno, that fight outside the fort…he…well Mr Howie he sort of did something weird and…’

  ‘What?’ Tom asked quietly and could see the now overt shifting and fumbling between the lads now.

  ‘Well he got beat down,’ Cookey explains, ‘we all saw it,’ he looks to Blowers and Nick both nodding in confirmation, ‘we we’re fucked, I mean completely fucked. We were getting slaughtered and there was so many of them…I think Curtis went down first, maybe Tucker…I don’t know anyway we we’re losing. Badly. Mr Howie gets beaten down and we knew we’d lost it, we’d given them a bloody good hiding but it was over…’ his voice trails off at the vivid memory playing through his mind. The sounds of screaming and the constant growling and roars of the undead as they pressed the attack again and again, the smell of blood and guts being spilled, the fear and the exhaustion.

  ‘He was on his knees,’ Nick picks the tale up with a distant look, ‘Mr Howie on his knees crying, he kept trying to get back up but he was done for, Dave was off somewhere and the rest of us were getting the shit beaten out of us. We all saw it,’ Nick suddenly looks up at Blowers and speaks with a firmer tone, like he wants confirmation too before he carries on, ‘Mr Howie was down…but then he changed. He started praying to himself and then got back up…his face,’ Nick shakes his head, ‘his face was…’

  ‘It was different,’ Blowers cuts in, ‘he got back up and he was saying the Lord’s Prayer, his voice got strong, so loud and we all heard it.’

  ‘Were you close to him then?’ Tom probes for the details.

  ‘No I mean we all heard it, everyone on that field heard it. Every man fighting heard that prayer coming from him… We all took it up and seeing him rise up, he was like a Viking warrior or…some
thing from a movie…they wouldn’t go for him…like they were scared or something, Mr Howie he just stood there and they cowered back…then he went for it.’

  ‘Like last night?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Yeah, like last night,’ Blowers replies, ‘him and Dave were something else. Relentless. Ruthless. And Clarence…mate he is so bloody strong.’

  ‘Yeah I watched him,’ Tom replied.

  Lani listens intently as the stories are relayed. The lads giving the funny and heart breaking accounts of their time together. Like the others, she gets that tingling hair on the back of the neck feeling at the memories of the big fight re-told. That quiet and softly spoken man with the easy smile, holding her hand when he could have easily pulled away or shifted position. She saw his discomfort when they were swimming this morning, how his face blushed when she made the joke about calling him Howie when they were alone. That same quiet man who held a field of undead at bay with a dangerous glint in his eye.

  Her family came from Thailand when she was very young; moving to a strange country that was so wealthy but with such fractured family values. Her own family kept them close and raised her with discipline and love. Nurturing where parents should, guiding and proving that hard work and dedication paid off. She knew her parent’s had to work so hard to get anything for those first few years, dealing with the stereotypes and prejudice of a mainly white population. Her own strong mix of conflicting values meant she often felt neither here nor there. Isolated from her traditions of her country but still not a complete part of the local society.

  The utter terror of being left alone for those long days and longer nights. Hearing the undead howling as the sun went down and knowing her family and friends were all taken, that they would kill her without remorse if she got caught. She spent days sobbing and crying, hiding in fear as she grew filthier and more hungry. Then when she couldn’t take it anymore she went out to find them. Going to her friend’s house and finding him turned, she got trapped and where she thought she would freeze in fear, she didn’t. She fought back and killed. Then killed more as she battled her way out of the building. The adrenalin surge left her shaking and trembling from head to toe but in that instant she changed. A switch had been clicked inside her. She no longer cried and although she still felt the same fear, it was coupled with a burning rage and desire for revenge.

  She became cunning, and when she saw her hiding place had been smashed and entered while she was away she knew that if she fixed it the people would see and come back. But knowing they had already entered and found nothing she figured it would now be the safest place. Then, when Howie and Nick came in, she heard the movements and thought they were the undead. Going out to exact that vengeance she froze on seeing two armed men standing just feet in front of her and inwardly cursed her own stupidity. Lani’s mind was resolute and firm. She knew men found her beautiful, an exotic difference from the mostly pale taller girls of the country. She also knew that men would try and take that beauty if they found her. She’d decided that if that happened she would fight to the death but suddenly seeing two men there, armed with guns, hard stares and dressed like mercenaries she didn’t feel so brave.

  Lani watched them speaking, she took in the friendly tone Howie used and the way he backed off and told Nick to do the same. As they went to leave her instinct told her to go after them and take the chance. She did and now looking back, perhaps that split second decision has given her the best chance for survival. Who knows what will happen, she may die any minute. Any one of them could. But here with these men she knows she stands the strongest possibility of living.

  Howie and the way he gets nervous round her when they’re alone. He’s sweet and something inside her is drawn to him in a way she hasn’t felt before. Strange times though and strange behaviours. She felt foolish when they woke, for having the need to hold his hand and showing a weakness but now, sitting amongst these people and feeling secure for the first time since this began she relaxes and enjoys the sunlight, but still glances frequently into the café to watch the man with the curly dark hair. He’s mid conversation with Dave and Clarence, he turns, smiles, she feels her heart skip a beat and she smiles back, then chuckles softly at seeing his blush even from this distance.

  Inside the café Clarence and Dave stand together with Howie, making plans while drinking warm water from bottles left in their packs.

  ‘I’m just saying I think they need a few hours to unwind boss, it’s been relentless the last few days. They’re young and they’ve done everything you’ve asked of them…’ Clarence rumbles in a conversational tone.

  ‘Yeah, I guess so,’ Howie nods back. The urge to press on burns inside but where to? He has accomplished what he set out to do. Saved Sarah, dealt with the threats along the way and got the women and children from the fort safely back across the water. There could be threats on the other side waiting for them, but as Sarah and Sergeant Hopewell repeatedly said, they have to be able to take care of themselves and the sea captain will probably take them straight to the back of the fort too. The constant pace. The sheer desperation of each day and now, with what he can only think of as down time he feels twitchy and like there should be another mission, another task waiting.

  ‘Let’s get some coffee going and see what food we can find,’ Clarence adds. Even he feels tired after the nights ferocious fighting. He’d happily push on without complaint if the need arose, but he also knows, after many years’ service, that taking time to unwind is as important as anything else in times of extreme combat and stress.

  Clarence chose to come with Howie knowing they would need good experienced fighters in order to stand the best chance of getting to the women and children, and of course Sarah. At the fort big Chris accepted his decision and he set out, intending to assist and then get back to work alongside his former comrade. However, Clarence had watched the way Howie and the lads fought together as a tight unit. They sheer courage they displayed was at times, unnerving and reminded him strongly of how he, Chris and Malcolm had been when they were young and fresh recruits. After the last two days of being with them constantly, Clarence, as with the others, now felt an unbreakable bond. When he slipped from the roof climbing down from the church tower, he faced certain death from the fire raging beneath him. But those lads and Lani risked their own safety to save him and that took something far more than courage. It was unity, comradeship and every decent value that was drummed into him as a young soldier. Seeing Howie’s quick reactions, his constant state of mind and ability to take information in, process it and reach a decision even in the harshest of situations had continually impressed Clarence and he felt himself slipping into calling Howie “boss”. A word used by soldiers towards their ranking officer when out in the field and the need for such rigid formality wasn’t so important.

  As the two days went on, Clarence felt Howie’s natural authority coming through and now he understood just why these men followed him

  ‘Dave, you happy with that?’ Howie asks. He glances out the window at Lani smiling at him and feels the blush starting instantly, quickly turning back to Dave in the hope they don’t notice.

  ‘Yes Mr Howie,’ Dave nods with a blank expression.

  ‘Right, that’s settled then. Chill out here for a few hours and get some rest. I’ll go break the good news,’ he strolls out the door into the sunlight and smiles as the group turn to watch and start getting to their feet, ready to move out.

  ‘Relax,’ Howie waves an arm at them, ‘we’re staying here for a while so we can relax and unwind. Personally I was ready to go find another horde to piss off but I reckon I’ve been outvoted so…’ his voice drains away, lost in the sudden cheers erupting from everyone seated at the large table. Smiling he gives thanks that someone like Clarence has the experience and knowledge to impart at such times.

  ‘But…we still need a constant watch on and keep your weapons close at all times, got it?’

  A round of grinning affirmations come straight back, “
yes sir” and “yes Mr Howie”. Shaking his head and still wondering how he came to get stuck with being called Sir and Mr Howie he grins back and leans against the rail.

  ‘We need food though,’ he muses.

  ‘Mr Howie, I saw some rods in the office when we searched earlier, we could have a go at catching fish,’ Cookey asks, ‘if we did it from here we could keep a watch on the pier too.’

  ‘Good idea mate, crack on and catch us some dinner then. Nick, I need your special skills,’ Nick looks up with a sudden keen interest in his eye, already excited at whatever challenge awaits. ‘Is it possible to rig that coffee machine,’ Howie points into the room at the shiny coffee maker on the counter, ‘to a car battery? If not then how would we get power to it so we can brew up?’

  ‘There’s some car’s in the car park on the other side Nick,’ Blowers informs him needlessly.

  ‘I’m on it Mr Howie, just the coffee machine or anything else?’ Nick already on his feet and squeezing through the chairs, cigarette hanging from his mouth.

  ‘Coffee first, definitely coffee first but see what else you can find.’

  ‘Ha, I’ll need a hand…’

  ‘Im fishing,’ Blowers replies quickly, relishing the prospect of a few hours idling with his feet dangling off the pier’s edge.

  ‘Tom, you any good with car’s and stuff?’ Nick asks.

  ‘Yeah I’ll help mate,’ Tom gets up to follow Nick into the café.

  ‘You can’t smoke in there,’ Cookey suddenly shouts after Nick as he walks towards the counter with his cigarette in his mouth.

  ‘Oh shit, I forgot,’ Nick turns and jogs quickly back to the open door. Stopping as realises what he’s doing, ‘you twat Cookey,’ he shouts and goes back inside making a play of puffing away while he walks through.