by RR Haywood
We swap over with me and Cookey taking the next turn, and then we keep swapping over, trying to paddle hard and making barely any discernible progress. Sweating freely, panting and drinking bottles of water we lean down and use our hands in the water, frantically paddling and trying to reach the shore.
It does get closer, but painfully slowly and we all become acutely aware of the sun dropping down towards the horizon and the coming night.
‘Fucking stuck in chav land in the middle of the night, we’ll get mugged…I’m telling you,’ Cookey whines looking up at the shore.
‘Who is going to mug us? Blowers asks between ragged breaths.
‘Those little chav gangsta shits, they’ll have more guns than us,’ Cookey replies.
‘Swear down bruv,’ Nick says.
‘Innit blood,’ Lani says in a brilliant accent, ‘swear down my bling blood innit.’ Giggles burst out as she continues in a perfect movie accent of council estate speak.
‘I was born on a council estate,’ Dave says cutting through the laughter instantly.
‘Really?’ I ask him, suspicious this might be one of his attempts at humour.
‘Yes Mr Howie.’
‘Where?’
‘Hang on, I think we’re into the shallows,’ Clarence interrupts. He unclips his belt, handing the pistol and magazines to Lani and drops over the side, landing chest deep to a low chorus of cheers. He ducks down and washes the sweat from his face as Dave leans over the front and hands him a rope which looks like a thin bit of string in his big mitts. Then he starts wading and then we all feel the boat start to move faster. As we get closer, Nick and Tom drop over, taking rope and pulling the boat in.
‘Pull my beauties, pull me to the shore my servants…swear down innit blood,’ Lani stands at the very front, her feet planted wide and her hands on her hips looking down at the lads with a haughty expression. That sets us off again and even Dave smiles at the sight of Lani the queen ordering her subjects. She finds a length of rope and, taking care not to hit anyone, she whips the surface of the water and shouts demonically, ‘PULL MY SHIP…PULL IT HARDER MWA HA HA’
Laughing like bloody idiots, with Cookey physically bent over and crying at the sight we gradually make it to the shore and jump down to help pull the boat up the pebble beach.
‘Bloody look at that,’ Blowers shakes his head at the sight of the broken glass bottles, take away wrapping and litter strewn across the narrow beach.
‘We need a vehicle, we can’t carry that lot,’ I walk up the beach and onto the road, looking up and down for any signs of vehicles. Nothing in sight. With a sigh I walk back, grimacing at the lengthening shadows and the onset of dusk.
‘We can’t split the group and we don’t want to leave that lot here, but then we can’t carry it all either.’
‘Mr Howie, we could hide some of it in one of those buildings,’ Tom points across the road to the row of semi-detached houses. All of them look normal, undamaged and empty.
‘Dump some stuff here and come back for it,’ Clarence nods in agreement, stripping his boots off and wringing his socks out. In this heat he’ll be dry in no time.
‘Dave?’ I ask, looking at Dave examining the houses.
‘It’s the best option but we need to move fast otherwise anyone watching us land here will know we delayed for something.’
‘Okay, you go and clear one of the houses and we’ll bring the stuff over.’
‘On it,’ Dave answers and jogs over the road, picking a middle house that looks as average as the others. He disappears round the back and less than a minute later the front door opens and he nods for us to come over.
Carrying the crates, boxes and spare rifles we do shuttle runs across the road, securing the load into an upstairs room. We ditch our shotguns too, but keep the axes and knives, then armed with assault rifles we gather back outside while Dave locks the front door from the inside and scoots out the back.
‘Bloody hell Clarence, you carrying that?’ I turn round to see Clarence stood there holding the GPMG by the top handle, loops of ammunition belts gathered round his neck and making him look even more mercenary than before.
‘I always used to carry one of these, back in the day,’ Clarence lifted the gun with ease and showed the end of the ammunition belt already fed into the side of the weapon, ‘Malcolm and Chris always took the piss but it got us out of some tight spots.’
‘Yeah I can imagine,’ I reply as Dave joins us. Then we’re back. Our group, on foot and armed to the teeth. I did consider waiting the night out in the house but I know we all want to get back to the fort.
‘Night is here,’ Tom says looking up at the black sky and the stars shining down.
‘No howling,’ Blowers cocks his head to listen. We all do the same, straining but there is virtually no noise other than the sounds caused by our presence.
‘Let’s move out find a vehicle, get back here and get our stuff then back to the fort. Stay quiet and keep your eyes and ears open. Dave up front, Clarence at the rear, okay? Let’s go.’
Thirteen
The earth spins on its axis as the rays from the sun sweep across the surface. Night becomes dawn, but here, on a motorway in the south of England; day becomes night. A quickening takes place and the ex-taxi driving zombie feels his heart soar as the last of the golden rays plunge below the horizon.
As one, the massed gathering lift their faces and howl into the air, guttural roars that fill the sky and they change instantly from the stumbling, shambling, slow moving things of the day into the evil terrors of the night. Heads become fixed, eyes focus, and limbs twitch less. Steps become easier and controlled and then the exodus starts. Pouring from the embankment they drop down onto the tarmac of the road, gathering round the super zombie, growling and whining with impatience. He waits until most of them are down and then sets off, using the moonlight to pick his way through across the road, over the central reservation, across the other lane and down the embankments. Into the thin fields that border the estate and then they pass through into the urban squalor. Hordes and hordes of zombies pouring into the streets and keeping pace with the intelligent face of the super zombie pacing at the front.
The ex-taxi driver has perfect knowledge of the road layout and knows exactly where to go. Straight down through the estate and then up the main road that leads to the compound. An all-out frontal charge that will over-whelm the tender pieces of meat within the high fences.
His own mouth fills with drool at the pressing urge to feed, saliva spools down his shirt as he quickens his pace.
Fourteen
‘Are we all here?’ Jeff whispers loudly into the dark shadows of the library. Moonlight and fag ends glinting off the metal nails sticking out of bats and sticks. The medley of weaponry staggered him at first and his face split into a grin at the sight of the savage bastards tooled up and ready for Armageddon.
‘Okay now listen, everyone that lives to the east of the centre will attack from that side, everyone that lives west will go from this side. We go up the two side streets and meet at the middle.’
‘Which way is east?’
‘Am I from east or west?’
‘Is that left or right Jeff?’
‘Fuc….okay, if you live the other side of the compound then loop round and come in from your side, those of us that live this side will come in from this side.’
‘Why are we doing that Jeff?’
‘If we go straight up the middle road they’ll see us miles off, and in the dark with two big groups coming at them they’ll think we’ve got even bigger numbers and might give up easier.’
‘Or fight harder,’ a voice calls out to a reply of “Ssshh” from various people.
‘So, we give it half hour and then go for it, that gives you plenty of time to loop round, got it?’
‘Can we throw our Molotov cocktails?’ someone whispers.
‘Don’t be so bloody stupid, you’ll burn all the plants down,’ someone replies.
/> ‘Oh okay, maybe just at the gates then.’
‘No, no fire bombs.’
‘None at all.’
‘No.’
‘Well that’s not fair…’
‘Hang on,’ Jeff whispers frantically, trying to prevent an all-out argument from erupting, ‘take them with you, if we need them we’ll call for them, got it?’
‘What like in the movies, what you gonna yell? Mortars?’
‘Er…yeah we’ll yell mortars,’ Jeff says exasperated.
‘Okay…thanks Jeff.’
‘That’s okay Rodney…now everyone ready? Yes? Good and don’t forget that nasty bastard Maddox or whatever his name is, make sure someone gets him quickly. Right let’s go.’
Fifteen
‘Okay okay,’ Maddox waves his arms to settle the crowds of youths gathered round the roaring fire in the pit. ‘Now that has been a long day, a very long day and we’ve everything done that we set out to achieve.’ He stands tall and proud. Proud of the tired faces looking up at him. In the course of one day they have gone from being dope smoking faces hiding in hoods to normal fresh faced youngsters, flushed from a day’s physical exertion and effort. Maddox made them eat good food too, tinned vegetables, rice and tinned meat, and washed down with plenty of fresh water.
‘I’m proud of you guys, I know we all come from the streets and we talk like gangsta’s innit bruv…and everyone hated us. We were the pests of the estate; we were the shit that blighted everyone’s lives. The schools rejected us, our families rejected us but we had each other. We stood by each other during the bad times and now look at us. We’re the ones in a safe place with loads of food while everyone else is shitting themselves. We went out there and killed those things. Us! Children and youths went out and took down the infected and made sure our streets were safe. Now we have a bigger compound with high fences, weapons, a guard tower, houses, food, water and we have each other.’ Maddox’s voice carries strong across the rear of the compound, and even cynical hardened youths like Darius and Mohammed are stirred by his words.
‘Jagger is taking first watch tonight, he volunteered for it. In fact, all the crews volunteered for the first overnight watch and you know what that tells me? That tells me we got each other’s backs. We ain’t the little gangsta shits they all think we are. We’re the future, we got community right here and we made it, and we gonna keep it. We gonna make it bigger and safer. We gonna take this area back and show everyone that if they want to live in our yard, they do it under our rules. No more religion, no more racism, no more stereotypes and thinking we is thick cos we speak different. This is our time now and we gonna make the rules from now on.’ Cheering erupts as the children and youths feel filled with pride. Through their own hard work and dedication they’ve shown what can be achieved.
‘We gotta cut back on the weed,’ Maddox continued, ‘every now and then is cool, but too much fucks you up like Ryker and the Bossman. That is not cool, you get me? We gonna be fit and healthy, fighters and warriors. How can we protect each other if we stoned and doped up? Also, we ain’t gonna kill the survivors for not paying no more. We defend ourselves at whatever cost and if that means we have to kill to defend what’s ours then that’s okay. But those people out there are frightened, just like we were. They scared and don’t know nuffin’, they ain’t hard or tough like we are, they can’t figure out how to get food either, so we gonna protect them. And in return they can supply goods for us, food, clothing, whatever they got that they want to share. If they need help and we can help them then we will. We got to set the rules from now on. If we kill them, then they will want to kill us and that puts us all in a constant state of war,’ Maddox pressed the point home, remembering the lessons the Bossman taught him.
‘The next couple of days we’ll get the houses rigged up and you’s can move into them, but we also gotta plant food and crops for the winter, so that means digging the ground up and stuff. I don’t know how we do that so we might have to go to the library and find a book…unless anyone can get Google working?’ A few laughs break out, ‘We got plans, and we’ll do this together. I got your backs and you got mine, right?’ A few murmurs and Maddox shook his head theatrically, ‘I said I got your backs so you got mine, right?’ Louder response this time, voices shouting out and caught in the moment. The atmosphere of camaraderie bursting through them, the camp fire, the hard work done by all, the good food and the warm weather all combined to make them feel safe, wanted and secure.
‘Right it’s late, chill out and relax, we’ll get a generator on the monitors and Xboxes for a few games, you’s earned that but no weed and no booze tonight, you get me?’ A chorus of replies, excited about the prospect of playing games but most of them too exhausted to want to do anything other than fall asleep.
‘Jagger, you got the watch bruv,’ Maddox looked over to the crew chief stood off to one side with his crew stood around him. All of them trying to affect an air of detached toughness. Aloof and ready for action, armed with shotguns and rifles.
‘On it,’ Jagger replied and headed away with his crew. He led them to the front gates and sent two up the tower, then one into each end house to watch the side roads, one more on the ground at the base of the tower and the rest doing foot patrols around the perimeter. All of them under strict instruction not to start playing games or get talking to the other kids for too long. Keep moving and keep vigilant. The only thing missing was a spotlight on the tower, still to be organised and rigged up by Maddox and Darius.
‘That was good speech,’ Lenski said softly as they walked back into the units. As soon as they entered the dark shadows they stopped and kissed passionately for a few seconds before breaking away and giggling as they checked to make sure no one had seen them.
‘Thanks,’ Maddox replied after a few seconds of kissing.
‘It is all good now, so much better. I am proud of you,’ Lenski murmured.
‘Thanks, that means a lot,’ and it did. Maddox knew he was doing a good job and knew he had the respect and the love from the youths to get them to what he wanted, but it had been hard earned and came with a cost. Thinking to the deaths of the Bossman, Zayden and Ryker he knew it was the way it panned out, events that he probably had no control over, and if it wasn’t for those awful things then this would never be happening.
‘So is the king ready for bed yet?’ Lenski smiled and ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms.
‘Yeah he is, how about the queen? Is she ready?’
‘I not know this, I find Skyla and ask her,’ Lenski giggled.
‘Skyla?’ Maddox scoffed quietly, ‘I need a real woman.’
‘You think I am the real woman yes?’
‘Oh yes,’ taking her hand he leads her through the darkened units towards his room and once inside with the door closed the kissing continues. Gentle at first and building up to a passionate frantic embrace with a sense of urgency propelling them both to strip off and fall onto the bed. Moonlight pours through the small grimy window, illuminated the room with just enough light for them to vaguely see the outline of the furniture, but tantalisingly dark so that touch becomes the dominant sense.
‘You alright bruv?’ Jagger asks the youth staring out the window down the side street. Having already checked the guard on the other side and the two in the tower he now checks on this one before moving off into the compound.
‘Yeah sweet Jagger,’ the kid answers, his shotgun resting against the wall and a small gas lantern turned low at his feet.
‘You got the radio, call me if you need anything or start fallin’ asleep, you get me?’
‘Swear down I will Jagger,’ the grins enthusiastically.
‘Nice one.’ Jagger quietly slips out, leaving the eleven year old boy staring out the window. His small hands drumming a beat on the windowsill as he glances over and nods at the two kids on the tower. Like most of the youths, he feels no great sense of loss from the infection taking his family and being here with everyone else is
more of a family than he’s ever known, he’s getting fed, given water and nice things to drink and has got a nice bed to sleep in. Humming a tune to himself he drums his hands and lets his mind wander off, staring at the road stretching away opposite him but not really seeing. No street lights or illumination other than the natural moonlight. Deep shadows blend into deeper silhouettes, building lines become muddled with garden walls, the end of the pavement is blurred and indistinct. Stare at anything for too long and it takes on a form of its own, creating horrors within the imagination.
Minutes pass as he sips from a can of Redbull, specially preserved for the night security crews. The syrupy taste is nice and he wants to gulp it down but he knows he’ll then have nothing to do, so he sips it gingerly and places it back down on the ground between his feet, then lifts it up and puts it on the windowsill. Turning the can round so the front is facing him, then away, then front again. He adjusts the position of the lamp a few times, then practises reaching for the shotgun. He moves his seat round a little, making small adjustments so that he can reach it with ease, but moving the seat has warped the symmetry of the lamp and the can of Redbull so he sets about adjusting them so they are just right.
Finally and with a contented sigh of satisfaction he looks up and scans the view. His mouth drops open and his heart rate, despite the near toxic ingredients of the energy drink, goes from sedate to panic within a split second. Adrenalin purges through his system and his hands shake as he scrabbles for the radio knocking the can over and kicking the lantern away which instantly puffs out. Cursing and fumbling in the dark he gropes round for the radio, unable to find it he looks back up and realises that there is no time to waste.
He leans out of the window, draws a deep breath and screams one word into the night.
‘CONTACT.’
Sixteen
The horde staggers through the estate, a demanding pressure building up as the undead growl at the steady pace they are held at. The need to eat, to feast, to find flesh burns through them and consumes their every ounce of being but the zombie wants them together. He wants a combined attack and the energy levels as high as possible.