The Undead the Second Week Compilation Edition Days 8-14

by RR Haywood

  ‘But those bloody kids didn’t know he was like that did they, and they done it before and they’ll do it again.’

  ‘Has anyone seen them out today?’ that same bloody voice from the back asks.

  ‘Who is that?’ Jeff cranes his head over the tops trying to see. Bodies shuffle out of the way as a bespectacled older man comes into view, smiling round at everyone.

  ‘Watcha,’ the man nods in greeting, repeated the word a few times as he stares round.

  ‘So has any of you seen the kids or what?’ the old man asks.

  ‘They were carrying some scaffolding poles from the shops earlier.’ Someone answers

  ‘Where to? Jeff asks.

  ‘Dunno, maybe that base they got.’

  ‘Yeah that base that’s got all our food and all the guns, that base with the big safe fences round it…’

  ‘What’s your point nipper?’ the old man asks.

  ‘My point,’ Jeff sighs, ‘is that they’ve got everything and we’ve got nothing and it ain't bloody right. They’re just sodding kids!’

  ‘Kids eh?’ The old man asks.

  ‘Yes, kids!’ Jeff repeats as if that proved everything.

  ‘So you’re complaining because the children are safe and protected with lots of food behind big fences and lots of guns…the children that is…the small ones that…’

  ‘Well yes of course the children should be there,’ Jeff quickly cut across him fearing he was losing the point already, ‘but why should the rest of us suffer and go without.’

  ‘You got the whole estate, you can come and go as you want, take what house you want…’ the old man started counting the advantages off.

  ‘Well we can’t come and go as we want with those things out there.’

  ‘But we ain’t seen those things have we, those kids have killed ‘em all, those kids you’re complaining about…behind those big fences with the guns.’

  ‘YES ALRIGHT…thank you for that,’ Jeff rubbed his face and whimpered from the pain shooting through his nose, ‘all I’m saying is that we should all be behind the fences with the guns and the food, we should all be safe, then we’d have the guns and could kill those things.’

  ‘Oh them kids didn’t use guns on them things,’ the old man pulled his glasses off and started wiping the lenses with the corner of his filthy cardigan, ‘they did it with sticks, stones, bats, knives and their bare hands too,’ he added as he slid the glasses back onto his nose, ‘but not guns.’

  ‘But they had all the food,’ Jeff argued, ‘so they had the energy and the…the…well the energy.’

  ‘You said energy already,’ the old man smiled graciously, ‘and they we’re out by the next day killing ‘em before they got all the food.’

  ‘Have they taxed you old man?’ Jeff asked with an exasperated tone.

  ‘Me?’ the old man looked surprised, ‘of course they have. Damn polite they were too, I said I was happy to give my half seeing as they got all them young mouths to feed and they was out killing the zombo’s and all that…some black kid, Madsticks or something, anyway damn polite he was and said if I had any grief I just had to tell him and he’d make sure it was sorted.’

  ‘Said the same to me,’ an older woman interjected.

  ‘His lot bloody killed my neighbour though, and in front of his wife. She ain’t said a word since then.’ That’s what he wanted and Jeff seized on it quickly, turning to the man and shouting;

  ‘So your neighbour was an innocent man just trying to feed his family and these little shits killed him in cold blood.’

  ‘Well I wouldn’t quite say that,’ the man replied rubbing his chin, ‘see the bloke did go at ‘em with one of them samurai swords, you know…the ones you get from the Sunday newspapers…’murmurs and nods rumble quietly round the room, ‘yeah so he kind of did provoke them.’

  ‘Sounds like he was just trying to defend his property if you ask me, and right in front of his wife too you said…’

  ‘Yeah, right in front of her it was…after they took the other two swords of her that is. But still,’ the man’s voice trails off, unsure of what his original point was.

  ‘Right well I just don’t think we should be living a life of servitude under a communist regime designed to disinherit us of our hard earned possessions,’ Jeff said, remembering some of the course he was sent on by the trade union, he looked round to a sea of blank grimy faces and one old bespectacled man sniggering with mirth.

  ‘Thems words a bit much for us stupid council house folk I reckon,’ the old man smirked.

  ‘Why should we get robbed in our own homes, we need food too,’ Jess translated and got a few nods of encouragement now they understood what he meant.

  ‘They’re all drug addicts, high on crack and meth and speed, they’ll be selling our babies to the highest bidder before long and forcing us into the sex trade…’Jeff spun round sensing that he might just be getting somewhere, ‘and when this is over…when the government get control back, which they will, and when the army come rolling through here, which they will,’ Jeff’s voice rose in volume as he moved between the nodding faces. Most of them unsure of why they were nodding but happy to be nodding all the same because they were scared and starting to get hungry and this man was saying things in a loud voice and he looked quite tough with those bruises, ‘they’re going to want to know why we didn’t stand up to a bunch of kids who were probably trained by terrorist camps, oh yes, they were probably trained by terrorist camps who want to end your way of life and make you slowly starve,’ Jeff spun round dramatically, seeing the startled faces watching him, ‘where do you think this started from eh? We’ve all heard of germ warfare haven’t we? We all know about dirty bombs don’t we? That’s what they’re doing here, dropping dirty bombs full of germs and turning people into flesh eaters while they steal our children and turn them into terrorists….well we won’t stand for it….no we won’t! They are dropping bombs and germs on us and taking our children, making us into sex slaves and forcing us to take crack up our veins! Well it stops now! It stops tonight! We will take out children back and give them the discipline they need. Brain washed they are, and we need to de-brainwash them, so who will join me tonight in protecting our country and stopping those evil terrorists from injecting Heroin into our babies eyes?’

  Every hand in the library rises, apart from one belonging to an old man with spectacles who tuts and shuffles his way through the idiotic and pumped up crowd to stand for a few minutes in the nice warm sunlight. He quite liked the young lad called Madsocks or whatever it was; he was very polite and had a good firm handshake. You can tell a lot about a man from the look in his eye and the hand he gives to shake. The estate was probably the safest now that it ever has been so whoever that Bossman was, well he was doing a good job.

  The old man sighed and wondered why people had to go and keep changing things. It was quieter now, well now those bloody zombo things were gone and if it stays like this then the estate will be a very nice place to live again.

  The old man looked up the street and contemplated going to that compound he’d been told about, just to warn them a little bit about some of these idiots coming to make complaints tonight. Give ‘em a chance to get a few excuses ready, or even switch the lights off and pretend no one’s home. But it is far away and the sun is very hot, so thinking maybe he would prefer a bottle of beer from the crate that nice young man left him to drink and those kids were sure to be round at some point today, he could tip them off then and save his tired old legs.

  So, with a sigh, the old man slowly started making his way back along the debris littered, blood stained, corpse strewn street, back to his boarded up house to wait for the pack of feral kids to come back round.

  Seven

  ‘Using a car battery would be hard as it would need to remain connected to the engine while it’s running otherwise it will drain too quickly. But we could use that,’ Nick points to the long sleek vessel tied on to the end of the pier. I lo
ok over at the big white catamaran used for carrying passengers between the Island and mainland. With one main interior level for passengers and a small outside area on the top, it looks low and fast.

  ‘They have power sources running from the engine, all we’d need to do is start it up and they’ve probably got a facility on board to heat water too,’ Nick adds with a look of yearning in his eyes.

  ‘Hot water?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah for the hot water taps in the toilets, can I have a go?’ Having brought me outside to show me his idea he stands waiting, itching to be given the nod to go and play on the big ship.

  ‘Do you think you could drive it?’ I ask him.

  ‘Drive it?’ He replies puzzled, ‘what for going back in? In that?’

  ‘Yeah why not?’

  ‘Bloody hell, yeah definitely,’ Nick laughs at the idea, nudging Tom and nodding towards it.

  ‘We’ll come on with you and make sure it’s clear then leave you to it; I’ll let the others know while you figure out a way of getting on it.’ Walking away I leave Nick and Tom talking excitedly about getting to drive the ship. The end of the pier is huge, a vast open car park shaped like a hammer on the end of the long thin approach road. Blowers and Cookey have sat on the reverse side, happily fishing away while maintaining a constant view of the land and the pier. The catamaran is on the outside edge. The only problem is that these waters are tidal which is why the pier was built in the first place. Even this far out from the shore the tide still comes in and out which means it was tied securely to the pier when the tide was in. And then left there while the end of world began. When the tide went out, the boat sank and ripped out all the ropes and mooring posts from the vast weight slowly sinking. All but one rope must have snapped or torn free, leaving just one tied onto the front. With the motion of the tide the ship has swung out and is facing the pier. Later, when the direction of the tide changes the boat will come back and nudge against the structure. Something it’s already done a few times judging by the dents alongside one side and the thick black scuff marks on the front. Luckily, the weather has been exceptionally mild without high winds otherwise I’ve no doubt it would now be floating away to France or have smashed the pier up.

  Walking back into the café I see Lani bending over in the large storeroom behind the counter, going through the shelves and sorting food out. Again, and fortunately for us the café serves a mostly transient customer and with ferries coming and going every half hour during the summer it meant the waiting time was very limited, which also meant the café served mainly pre-packaged snack food. Good for us as most of it was in the cooler store room and either still in date or just gone. Mostly muffins, cakes, biscuits and the like, and boxes of crisps and chocolate bars. But it will have to do for now. She catches me walking past and smiles sweetly, which I return without blushing for once.

  At the back, Clarence sits dozing in a chair while Dave is seated off to one side, his knives all laid out on the table and a sharpening stone in his hand, running back and forth along the already lethal blade.

  ‘We’re going to try and board that big ship tied up, Nick thinks it will have power and maybe hot water if he can get it going,’ I explain. Blowers and Cookey both twist round to listen and Clarence holds his hands over his eyes to shield them from the sun while squinting up at me.

  ‘Hasn’t it swung out?’ Clarence asks.

  ‘Yeah, we need to figure a way of getting on board and clearing it,’ as soon as the words are said they’re on their feet. The rods get reeled in and put to one side as they gather axes and knives up.

  ‘You caught anything yet? I ask the lads.

  ‘We got a crab but it was as ugly as Blowers with massive pincers so we put it back,’ Cookey replies. Lani joins us seeing the weapons being taken up and I quickly relay the plan while she grabs her meat cleaver.

  Outside we walk to the outer edge and stand there staring at the vessel gently bobbing a few metres away. I turn round and check our position, making sure we can still see the pier stretching out behind us down to the shore.

  ‘Well unless Clarence can pull it back in I reckon the easiest way is going to be along that rope,’ I nod at the thick taught rope stretched between the pier and the vessel.

  ‘There’s no movement on board,’ Clarence stares out with his eyes shielded from the sun again, ‘should be safe enough to get a couple on board and check it through.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Lani says, eyeing the rope.

  ‘Hang on,’ Clarence walks over to the rope secured to the mooring post and looks down at the length wrapped round the thick post, ‘there’s enough rope left to pull it back in, come on.’ He starts unwinding the rope from the post and feeds it out behind him as we run up and each take a double handed grip.

  ‘Ready,’ Clarence releases the last coil from the post and immediately the ship starts pulling us towards the edge. The big man runs round to the back, grasping the rope and taking an anchor position as we start straining to pull it back in.

  ‘Shit,’ I grunt as the receding tide pulls the boat away from the shore. The sheer weight of it outmatches even our combined pulling strength. We dig in cursing and grunting but getting pulled gently towards the edge of the pier.

  ‘You didn’t think that one through Clarence,’ I shout through gritted teeth.

  ‘Sorry boss,’ he yells from the back.

  The ship drifts away and we cling onto the rope refusing to give in, hoping we can prevent the motion and start dragging it back in. The edge looms closer and closer with Lani at the front, followed by Dave and the rest of us stretched out in a line. Clarence curses loudly as he slips on a patch of oil, without his strength we’re suddenly yanked forward. With a yelp Lani sails over the edge of the pier followed by a yelling Dave. As they release their grip, the boat gains more momentum and anyone left holding the rope is jerked towards the edge. Everyone one of us sailing over the and into the blue waters with yells and shouts.

  Plunging in and luckily the tide is still quite high so the drop isn’t too bad. I push back up to the surface spitting water from my mouth. A braying donkey sounds from somewhere and I turn round to look up at Clarence bent double and clutching his stomach as he laughs uncontrollably at the sight of the rest of us all bobbing in the water.

  ‘I want hot water,’ Lani yells out and swims after the rope. Reacting quickly I swim after her with Nick right behind me. We each gain a length of rope between our hands and start pulling ourselves hand over hand through the water with Lani in front moving swiftly along the rope.

  She climbs nimbly clear of the water and scales the thick rope, using her feet against the side of the vessel and within a few seconds she reaches the top and pulls herself onto the front of the ship. I go next gritting my teeth I start lifting myself out of the water. If this had been two weeks ago I don’t think I would have stood much of a chance, but now with most of the fat burnt from my body and after constantly swinging the heavy axe I surprise myself with my strength and grin stupidly as I clamber up the side, copying Lani and using my feet to help me up. Reaching the top I grab the side and lever myself in, falling down into a wet puddle. Coughing and spluttering I go to stand up and watch as Nick’s grinning face reaches the lip, Lani and I help him over until we’re stood there dripping and smiling like idiots.

  ‘I bloody hope you can drive this thing,’ I nod towards the retreating pier and lift my arms high above my head to wave, showing the others that we made it.

  ‘Have either of you got a weapon?’ They both shake their hands after patting sodden pockets down.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll protect you both,’ Lani smiles and moves off down the side. Nick and I shrug and walk along the narrow gangway towards the big sliding door.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Lani calls back after peering in through the glass. Joining her we peer through the darkened glass at the group of undead all stood swaying in the middle of the floor.

  ‘Well its day so they’re slow,’ Nick muses, his b
reath misting the glass in front of his mouth.

  ‘Yeah but hand to hand?’ I answer, ‘only takes a bite mate.’

  ‘Open the door and lure them outside,’ Lani suggests.

  ‘Okay, grab those fire extinguishers as soon we get in, ready?’ They both nod and I pull the door back. We rush into the cool interior and quickly yank the heavy metal cylinders free from their fixings.

  The main level is the width of the vessel and fitted with rows of seats with two wide aisles running down either side.

  We grab at the fire extinguishers and pull the covers off. I get a big heavy red water filled one while the others get smaller chemical filled extinguishers. The undead react and slowly shuffle round, giving groans as they see their lunch waiting for them.

  ‘Fuck is that the captain?’ Nick asks at the sight of the uniformed zombie with a dark blue suit with golden stripes on the cuffs and wearing a flat cap on the back of his head.

  ‘Guess so,’ I reply quietly as we back away towards the open door. I pull the plastic strip from my handle and aim the hose at the approaching horde. A jet of water sprays out as I squeeze the handle, soaking the zombies faces and having no effect other than washing some of the dried blood away.

  ‘Let me try,’ Nick says and pulls the strip out. He steps in squirts foam into them from a few feet away. Thick creamy foam that covers their faces. They groan and moan at the abuse but other than that they keep coming.

  ‘My turn,’ Lani darts in and opens up with her chemical powder extinguisher. The noise is really loud and makes Nick and I jump. She holds the aim on one poor sod who gets blasted back by the high powered jet of powder. He staggers into the others as the powder gets into his mouth. He staggers back and tries shuffling again but then starts coughing and spluttering as he chokes on the power in his throat. We watch in fascinated horror as the thing shuffles and flaps his arms about whacking the others and knocking the captain’s hat off. Eventually he falls down and stays writhing on the ground.

  ‘Get another one,’ Nick urges. Lani obliges by darting forward and squeezing the handle. A thick jet flies out then ends abruptly.