The Undead the Second Week Compilation Edition Days 8-14

by RR Haywood

  ‘Randall?’ Jonas prompts the man, expecting him to say something.

  ‘What motherfucker?’ Randall sneers, his voice deep and aggressive.

  ‘You agree? We all got something the others want.’

  ‘Fuck you, fuck your mother fucking showers and fuck your library.’

  ‘You need to eat Randall, I got the food,’ Jonas replies, keeping his tone neutral and not reacting at the language of the other man.

  Randall looks away dismissively, he knew he needed the food and he too didn’t like having to take water from the toilet bowls each cell had, he also craved to have access to the library. Despite his formidable appearance, Randall knew the brain was a muscle that also needed regular exercise, but damn if was going to beg anyone for them.

  ‘I agree,’ the leader of B wing says quickly, ‘we need to work together and resolve this fucking mess, we got dead bodies stacked up that fucking stink…’

  ‘I want out,’ D wing leans forward, his angry eyes staring at the others, ‘my wing is in the middle, we’re fucking trapped and I want out, you can have the fucking showers just give me an outside wall to start working on.’

  ‘It’s been tried,’ Jonas replies, ‘they’re too thick.’

  ‘Ain’t fucking trying hard enough,’ Randall growls.

  Jonas leans forward, drawing a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, all other eyes fell on the sealed box, watching as Jonas casually strips the plastic film off, removes the foil inlay and taps a tailor made cigarette out.

  ‘You’re a cunt Jonas, fucking doing that in front of us, I ain't had a smoke for a week now,’ B wing moans with his eyes fixed on the packet.

  ‘Don’t,’ Jonas replies quickly, his temper evidently bubbling away, ‘call me a cunt…here, help yourself.’ He pushes the pack into the middle of the table. Watching with satisfaction as the other men all reached out to grab it, all apart from Randall who looks at them with clear disgust.

  ‘Any of you motherfuckers blow smoke my way and I’ll beat on your ass,’ he says quietly.

  ‘Easy Randall,’ Jonas cuts in, ‘so what we gonna do?’

  ‘Do? Do motherfucker? I’ll kill all you sons of bitches and shit on your mother fucking rotting corpses.’

  ‘I fucking knew he’d be like this,’ the leader of C wing sits back, blowing a plume of smoke into the air.

  ‘Randall, you agreed to this meeting along with the rest of us, we need a plan, a way of cohabiting or of getting out of here.’

  ‘Who said anything about getting out? You heard what’s going on out there, fuck that…I’m staying here until it’s over,’ B wing cuts in.

  D wing leans in, tapping his fingers on the table, ‘and when we will know when that is eh? We fucking won’t will we, it could be over now for all we know.’

  ‘You dumb motherfucker, you want to stay in here? Man you stupid. Jonas is the only motherfucker with an outside wall, that’s where we need to be.’

  ‘You got an outside wall Randall,’ D wing replies.

  Shaking his head, Randall pauses before answering, ‘the gym wall leads into the yard you stupid motherfucker, there’s two more walls before you even get near the perimeter.’

  ‘I think,’ Jonas clears his throat, ‘we need to come up with a solution so we share what we’ve got and work out a way of getting out.’

  ‘You got the outside wall and the fucking tuck-shop Jonas, why ain't you getting that wall down eh?’ D wing asks.

  ‘Because we don’t have the tools, we’ve got plastic chairs and nothing else…we can’t take a fucking wall down with our bare hands.’

  ‘What you gonna use then?’

  ‘The showers in your wing have iron pipes, we can use them and the barbells and equipment from the gym, it’ll be done in no time.’

  ‘So you want the pipes from my showers and the stuff from Randall’s gym eh? What do we get in return? And why the fuck is the librarian here…what’s he gonna do? Throw books at the walls?’

  ‘Fuck you! B wing has the offices, what the fuck can they do with offices?’ C wing, the holder of the library protests.

  ‘They got the phones and the radio,’ Jonas replies, speaking louder to drown the arguments out, ‘we all got something the others need, I got the wall but I need tools and men to use them.’

  ‘So what you suggesting then eh? That we call a truce or something?’ D wing asks.

  ‘Pretty much yes,’ Jonas nods, ‘that’s about all we can do…or we keep going as we are until the food runs out and we all die.’

  ‘I’m in,’ B wing says quickly, ‘we got no food left, we’re fucking starving to death already.’

  ‘Me too,’ C wing adds.

  ‘Randall?’ Jonas and the others look to the man sat flexing his arms, making the veins bulge out even more.

  ‘We do this and work together then we want an equal share of the food, and water from the showers…I want access to the library and the offices too.’

  ‘We all want access to everything, my guys are busting a gut to get back in the gym,’ Jonas replies.

  ‘How can they go to the gym if we’re using the stuff to get out?’ B wing asks with a confused look.

  ‘We don’t need to use everything, the weights machines won’t be used, just some of the barbells and maybe some dumbbells,’ Jonas says.

  ‘So gentlemen, are we in agreement? From this point on all feuds are forgotten, no fighting, no attacks, no shanks, everyone goes where they want and we get the fuck out of dodge.’

  ‘Jonas, I like you but if you cross me you motherfucker I will kill you, bring you back to life and kill you again,’ Randall glares.

  ‘We’re all criminals here, we’ll cross each other for a fucking glass of juice given the chance,’ B wing adds.

  ‘But we’re all working towards a common aim,’ Jonas says, ‘no crossing, send someone from each wing to stay in the stores with my man…that way there can be no funny business.’

  ‘Shake on it?’ C wing offers, standing to extend his hand.

  ‘Stupid motherfuckers, I don’t need no fucking fag hand shake with you dumb fuckers,’ Randall stands up, stretching to his full height and pushing his massive chest forward, ‘later losers,’ he adds before walking off. Jonas swaps handshakes with the others, quietly breathing a sigh of relief at finally making some headway.

  The wing leaders stride out, heading back to their wings to relay the news. The prisoners of each wing receive the update with grim faces at the prospect of more fighting and battles erupting. The prisoners are hungry and feeling more cooped up than ever before in their sentences. No daylight or yard time, no exercise and surrounded by dead bodies. Even the bodies removed to the end cells are now stinking the wings out.

  Slowly they emerge from their wings, the central canteen being the first place they start to mingle. Groups stay together, wings massing as they watch and stare at one another. The wing leaders moving amongst them with a watchful eye.

  An hour later and the tension has eased, the gym stripped of the long solid metal bars to be used to start attacking the thick outer wall on A wing. Iron bars from the showers are removed, along with men rushing into the ablutions to have their first proper wash in days. Some scuffles break out which are quickly dealt with by others desperate to keep the peace and get out.

  A reluctant peace descends as they set to work. The constant hammering of metal against stone echoing through the wings as the men set to work with fierce determination.

  Seven

  I’ve got great tits, Marcy thinks looking down at her chest with pride. She reaches the far end of the barricade unhindered, no shouted challenges being yelled from look outs. The smell is stronger now, the stench of the living just a few yards away. Her mouth unwittingly fills with drool as her body senses the closeness to flesh. She swallows it down, re-adjusting her hair as she gets to the end panel.

  ‘Hello?’ She calls out gently, making her voice quaver with fear. She taps on the metal shutter, noting that it
doesn't rattle or vibrate, securely fixed in.

  ‘Who’s that?’ A male voice calls out, she smiles hearing the young tone.

  ‘Hi, my name is Marcy…I just got here, I was hoping to find other survivors.’

  ‘Hang on,’ the male voice calls out. She listens to the sound of metal against metal, a thin sliver of a gap forms in the panel as a look out slot is opened, a pair of brown eyes stare out. Marcy drops her head, stepping just enough to show her body. She glances up quickly, smiling at the soft brown eyes fixed on her cleavage.

  ‘Hi,’ Marcy says softly, giving a demure wave.

  ‘Hi…er…are you alone?’

  ‘Yes,’ she nods, exaggerating the movement to appear frightened and vulnerable. She turns her head, nervously looking about the area as though worried at being attacked, ‘there’s lots of bodies out here,’ she adds in the same quavering tone.

  ‘Yeah,’ the man replies, his eyes still fixed on her chest.

  ‘Did you kill all these?’ She asks.

  ‘Not all of them, but well yeah… I got quite a lot though.’

  ‘Wow, you must be so brave, I’ve been so frightened travelling on my own. They kept chasing me but I got away and hid, and that noise they make at night,’ she shudders, lowering her head to cover her eyes, giving a heave as though crying.

  ‘Have you been bitten or anything?’ The man asks.

  ‘No,’ she shakes her head, ‘I guess you’ll need to check me all over…I don’t mind doing that, I know you have to be very careful.’

  ‘Oh yes, we’ve got really strict rules here, no one gets in without being checked, like you know, all over and everything.’

  ‘I understand, you have to be very thorough, do you want me to take my clothes off now?’

  ‘Yes! Oh…no I mean well not there in the street.’

  ‘I’m so frightened, what if those things come here…’ she crosses her arms across under her bosoms, knowing she’ll be pushing them higher.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get you inside…I just need to get another woman to…’

  ‘Please don’t leave me out here, I don’t mind if you check me over, really I don’t mind. You must be like the leader or something if they put you on the gate so I know I’ll be safe with you.’

  ‘Well I’m not the leader but yeah…you know I’m quite high up.’

  ‘I bet you are, please let me come in, you can check me all over…I’ll do whatever you say,’ she purrs, dropping a shoulder slightly so the strap, which she adjusted for this very purpose, falls down slightly. She can hear his breathing increase, the lust in his eyes clearly evident.

  ‘Okay, but you’ll have to be checked really thoroughly.’

  ‘Of course, will it just be you and I? Alone?’ She asks, drawing the last word out. Bolts and scrapes sound out from the other side as the man works quickly to open the panel.

  ‘Er…yeah you know, respect for privacy and all that,’ he grunts with exertion as he moves something heavy.

  ‘Oh I am glad, you’ve got such nice safe eyes, my mother always said you can tell a man is kind from his eyes…what’s your name?’

  ‘Robert…er…well everyone calls me Robbie.’

  ‘Oh my god Robbie, you have no idea how happy I am to find this place, are there many people inside?’

  ‘About four hundred I think, something like that…hang on…right that’s it, stand back a bit so I can push the gate open.’

  She does as told, standing back with her feet together and her hands clasped in front, head hanging low, the true pose of the demure woman being rescued by the brave knight.

  ‘Quick, get in,’ he urges, and she notes the huskier tone of his voice caused by getting a full look at her.

  She steps inside, moving deftly past him and taking in the private alcove. A high stack of sandbags form a wall with a narrow gap leading into the High Street beyond.

  ‘At least it’s nice and private in here Robbie,’ she says softly, ‘do you want me to get undressed now?’

  ‘Er…hang on, I got to put all this back yet,’ he grunts, quickly shoving heavy bags of concrete against the door.

  ‘Wow, you’re so strong,’ she smiles, watching the thin built youth struggling with the heavy bags, ‘how old are you Robbie?’

  ‘Nineteen, but I’ll be twenty in a few weeks,’ he adds quickly, ‘there all done,’ he turns round, his eyes sweeping over her body. Swallowing nervously he suddenly seems unsure of what to do.

  ‘So Robbie, do you want to check me now?’ She whispers. She watches with amusement as he swallows again, his mouth trying to work but no words coming out, ‘you’ll have to tell me what to do Robbie,’ still he doesn't speak but just stands staring at her boobs, my god, another virgin she thinks to herself. She pulls her top off, exposing her push up bra and almost laughing at the young lad blushing furiously, ‘Can you help me Robbie, I can never get these things undone easily,’ she turns her back, presenting the clasp of her bra to him. Bless him, must be the first pair of boobs he’s ever seen in real life, mind you…it’ll be the last ones too. She rolls her eyes as his shaking fingers fumble at the clasp, pushing and tugging away and getting nowhere.

  ‘Sorry, I’m er…not used to these particular bra’s, the others have always been, you know….different.’

  ‘Oh I know Robbie, they’re so complicated,’ she smiles with delight, almost feeling sorry for the young lad.

  ‘Got it!’ He exclaims as the elastic pings open. She turns slowly, holding her bra over her boobs and watching his face go slack. Slowly, she starts to lower the bra, inch by inch and taking great delight at the expression on his face. At the point of full exposure the blood drains from his face, causing him to sway.

  ‘Hey Robbie, are you okay?’ She holds a hand out to steady him.

  ‘Yeah, wow…sorry…must be the heat,’ he stutters, unable to take his eyes away from the now naked breasts.

  ‘Robbie, look at me,’ she steps in close, her face just inches from his, ‘Robbie…hey look at me,’ she urges softly. He responds slowly, his face tilting up as he focusses on her face, lost in love the poor sod. He smiles meekly, still not noticing the red bloodshot eyes.

  ‘Have you ever kissed a girl before Robbie?’ She asks softly, he shakes his head dumbly, too love-struck to even consider lying, ‘kiss me then Robbie, kiss me now,’ she leans in, feeling increasingly sorry that he’ll never get to sleep with a woman. Their lips meet, she goes gently at first, smiling softly at feeling the hand gently squeezing at her left breast. The kiss of death carries on as her saliva drips into his mouth. Soaking into the soft tissue of his tongue. A much slower way to infect but still effective.

  She remembers where she is, realising someone could come and check on young Robbie. She nips gently at his lip. Just enough to draw blood, he winces but is too far gone to notice the blood drawn. She kisses him again, ensuring her saliva enters his blood stream. She puts one hand over his, holding it tight against her boob.

  ‘Im sorry Robbie,’ she whispers.

  ‘Me too,’ he replies without any idea of what he’s saying sorry for. The infection courses through his system, cells turning as it takes hold in every organ. He turns his head, feeling a woozy sense flooding over him. His legs start to shake, his hands dropping to his sides.

  ‘Easy Robbie,’ she takes his weight, lowering him down to the ground, his breathing becomes harder as he fights to keep his life so quickly ebbing away from him, vision blurring, senses cutting out. She strokes his head, murmuring softly into his ear. He slips under, his heart gradually ceasing.

  Marcy smiles sadly, feeling better for at least letting him have a kiss and a grope before he died. She dresses quickly, doing the bra up and pulling her top over her head.

  Dropping down to his side she watches patiently for the first twitch, cocking her head to one side as the convulsions run through him. His eyes snap open, staring up full of blood.

  ‘Welcome back Robbie,’ she smiles, ‘how do you feel?�
�

  ‘I feel great,’ he whispers, his voice dull and flat.

  ‘Good, now get up and move those heavy bags for me,’ she steps away, keeping watch out the gap in the sandbags as Robbie removes the heavy bags and pushes the panel open.

  Staring out she takes in the scene. The long High Street looks relatively normal. Some of the shop windows have been smashed in but are now covered with boards, the ground is free from litter and no vehicles parked up. People walk through the street, some alone, others in couples or small groups. They look healthy and well-fed, clean and remarkably unconcerned.

  Soon change that, she muses quietly.

  ‘Marcy?’ A voice whispers from outside the barricade. She turns quickly leaning out the open panel to see one of the communicators stood there.

  ‘Just you?’ She asks.

  ‘More over there,’ he points back to the junction.

  ‘Get them here, move quietly,’ she watches as the male runs off towards the junction, ‘you okay Robbie?’

  ‘I’m fine Marcy,’ he replies flatly.

  ‘Hungry?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Not long to wait, here they are…come on quick…stay inside the sandbags.’ She ushers them inside, turning to see them standing cramped inside the alcove, ‘split up, give it about five minutes so we’re all up and down the street then go for it…got it?’ They nod back, the look of awe oozing from their faces. ‘Go on then, off you go,’ she watches as they filter out into the street, quickly walking away from the alcove in different directions. All of them doing varying actions to hide their eyes, holding their hands over their heads, lowering heads, wearing sunglasses.

  Marcy walks out last with Robbie, knowing he’ll be recognised by the people within the compound. They stroll away from the gate, heading down the High Street.

  ‘Lower your head Robbie.’