The Undead the Second Week Compilation Edition Days 8-14

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The Undead the Second Week Compilation Edition Days 8-14 Page 111

by RR Haywood


  Large pools of dark stains writhe with thick, white maggots and flying insects buzz everywhere, rising from the corpses they feast upon.

  We see the odd undead here and there but don’t stop to engage them. Instead we push on, driving the big vehicle through the grimy, shitty streets as directed by Lillian.

  Nick takes the GPMG, glad of the chance to have a discrete smoke up top thinking that Dave won’t notice, as if anything gets passed him, but he lets it go without comment.

  ‘Just up there,’ she points to a wide road, a row of large terraced houses on one side and commercial properties on the other. The houses look distinctly student accommodation, cheap and large with overgrown front lawns full of mismatching garden furniture, the windows that are intact have old faded posters in them.

  Only a handful of undead are gathered in the street, just stood there swaying back and forth with drool hanging from their mouths. They look awful, really haggard and drawn and barely recognisable as human other than their basic form. Days spent in the hot sun have withered them down, skin drawn tight across bone, deep recessed eyes and matted filthy hair.

  ‘Halfway up, there’s another road on the right that goes down to the depot I was saying about,’ Lillian points, leaning through the gap between the seats. ‘There were more than this,’ she adds looking at the small horde.

  ‘Must have gone somewhere else,’ I reply, turning the vehicle into the road and moving slowly towards the horde.

  ‘What are we doing with them?’ Nick shouts down.

  ‘Cut them down,’ I shout back, imagining the big grin on Nick’s face. The gun explodes to life, firing a short burst into the horde. Lillian watches with interest as the bodies are ripped apart. Rounds slamming into their chests and stomachs, the bodies flying backwards from the impact of the bullets.

  The small horde is cut down within seconds, just a pile of bodies left to rot on the ground with everything else.

  ‘We might get more contact now,’ Clarence explains to Lillian, ‘the noise will draw them out.’

  ‘Why didn’t we just go past and leave them here?’

  ‘We could, but then come night they’ll turn into the nasty fuckers and be a risk to any other survivors,’ I reply.

  ‘So you kill all of them?’

  ‘Groups like that we will, if it doesn't get in the way of what we’re doing.’

  ‘How many have you killed?’

  ‘Thousands, maybe tens of thousands.’

  ‘Seriously?’ She asks with surprise, ‘turn right here…see that big gate down there, the tankers parked behind that.’

  We drive down to the big metal gates she indicates. High sided with big signs warning of security patrols and CCTV and no naked flames beyond this point.

  ‘Nick, can you see over the top of those gates?’

  ‘No, you want me to climb up?’

  ‘Yeah is that alright?’

  ‘Okay,’ he scrabbles up to stand on the roof of the Saxon, ‘they’re too high,’ he shouts down.

  ‘How did you see them?’ Clarence asks.

  ‘My room was on the top floor, I saw them driving down here and could just see the tops of them through a gap in the wall,’ Lillian says.

  ‘The gate's locked with a big chain,’ Nick shouts.

  ‘Yeah we can see that, we’ll have to pull the gates off…can’t risk smashing them open if we don’t know what’s on the other side.’ I wait for Nick to drop back down then manoeuvre the vehicle so the back is face on to the gates.

  ‘I’ll cover with Cookey, Lani and Dave if you and Blowers get a chain rigged up,’ I say to Clarence, ‘Lillian you stay with Dave.’

  We clamber out, once again feeling the impact of the heat. Within seconds we’re sweating freely as we move out to cover both sides of the street. Clarence and Blowers work quickly, getting a thick chain from inside the Saxon and attaching it to the gates.

  Glancing round I see Dave stood next to Lillian, moving his gaze between the street and her. He makes a quiet comment and she adjusts the way she holds the rifle, pushing the butt of the gun more into her shoulder.

  ‘Ready. You want me to drive it?’ Clarence calls out.

  ‘Carry on mate,’ we move out away from the gates as Clarence gets into the driver’s seat. He pulls away gently until Blowers shouts the chain is taut, then he powers on pushing the vehicle onwards. The chain pings tighter and pulls the gates open. The padlock and chain snapping from the pressure.

  ‘Whoa,’ Blowers shouts waving his arm. Clarence jumps down holding his assault rifle at the ready.

  ‘Nick you stay here and cover the street, no one is to fire inside that compound…we are not blowing any more tankers up,’ I call out as we move towards the gates with Dave taking the lead.

  We pull the gates open and stand smiling at the sight of the solitary tanker parked up at the far end of the large parking area. The rest looks clear and the gate being locked is a good sign of nothing being in here.

  ‘Hope it’s full,’ Cookey says quietly.

  ‘It’ll be locked, the keys must be in that building,’ Blowers nods his head towards the single story squat building at the back of the compound.

  We head over and wait while Clarence sizes the door up and starts giving it big hefty kicks, watching by a grinning Cookey. The solid door takes some battering before finally relenting and busting open by which point Clarence is bright red in the face and getting angry.

  ‘Nice and cool in here,’ Blowers shouts from inside. The rest of us slip in through the ruined doorway. The windows have blinds covering them and the thick walls have prevented the heat from building up. The air is stale and musty but decidedly cooler than outside.

  We all breathe a sigh of relief and wait while the two lads toss the office searching for the keys.

  ‘Yes!’ Cookey exclaims as he opens a desk drawer, he pulls out a packet of hobnob biscuits and grins over, ‘bloody love hobnobs.’

  ‘You love knobs,’ Blowers mutters, ‘got ‘em,’ he adds picking a set of keys up.

  ‘Dirty bastard,’ Cookey chuckles, he pulls a glossy magazine out of the drawer and holds it up. A picture of a busty woman on the front with two big yellow covered stars covering her nipples. ‘Who has a wank in their office?’ He laughs.

  ‘Here, you need these?’ Blowers throws a box of tissues at Cookey.

  ‘Yeah. Is there a toilet,’ Cookey quips.

  ‘Come on,’ I laugh. Blowers throws the keys over. Outside we cross the hot parking area towards the tanker. I unlock the door and climb up, gasping at the heat inside the cab.

  ‘Fingers crossed,’ Clarence starts checking the dials inside, waiting for me to turn the ignition on so they give a correct reading, ‘with any luck it would have loaded up before coming back so it was ready for deliveries on Saturday morning…YES!’ He shouts, making us all jump.

  ‘Is it full?’ Lani shouts from outside.

  ‘To the top,’ Clarence replies. The mood lifts instantly as we break out in big grins, giving cheers.

  ‘Well done Lilly,’ I shout to the girl, ‘brilliant mate, great idea.’

  ‘Cracking,’ Clarence grins at the girl, ‘well done.’

  She smiles back as the others all say the same thing. She doesn't know the importance of the fuel to us, we’ve explained about Meredith but the full impact can’t be the same to her as it is to us.

  ‘You driving this back?’ I ask Clarence.

  He nods, still grinning as sweat runs down his bald head.

  ‘Take one of the lads with you.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Cookey shouts.

  ‘No,’ Clarence groans, ‘only joking, get in then,’ he adds at seeing the lad looking crestfallen, ‘but no silly bloody jokes.’

  ‘Yeah…you love my jokes,’ Cookey beams.

  The rest of us cross over the yard and load up, switching the air con on for a few minutes to bring the heat down. I pull the Saxon out once Clarence has the tanker moving, going back up the road as we na
vigate our way through the town back onto the motorway.

  ‘That went well in the end,’ I say to Dave sat in the front with me.

  ‘It did Mr Howie.’

  ‘So that’s two refineries you’ve blown up now.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Was this one bigger?’

  ‘Sort of, the other one was more modern and produced more oil but was smaller in size…’

  ‘Was it in the middle east?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why did you have to blow it up?’

  ‘I was told to.’

  ‘Why did they ask you?’

  ‘Because I’m good at blowing things up.’

  ‘No I mean why did they want it blown up.’

  ‘Oh…I don’t know.’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘No, they never said.’

  ‘So they just asked you to blow it up and you did, without asking why?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Dave, did you ever…like…assassinate anyone?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh yeah you blew that cow up to kill the cow herder.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Who?’ I expect him to say he can’t really say, he pauses for a second as though in thought.

  ‘Five politicians, four generals, two colonels, one doctor, three engineers, then another doctor, then two more politicians…’

  ‘Hang on…You said five politicians…did you forget about the other two?’

  ‘No I was going in order.’

  ‘Oh…were they all at once…the five I mean?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How did you do it.’

  ‘Car bomb.’

  ‘Shit…then four generals, where they together?’

  ‘No, one at a time in a set order.’

  ‘Fucking hell mate…You killed doctors? You can’t kill doctors.’

  ‘You can…I did.’

  ‘Why doctors? What did they do?’

  ‘They were informants, leaking information about our covert operations.’

  ‘How the fuck did they know about our covert operations?’

  ‘They worked for us, they were army doctors.’

  ‘Shit no way…how did you kill them?’

  ‘I drowned one in his shower and the other…’

  ‘In his shower?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How do you drown someone in a shower?’

  ‘I put the shower head in his mouth.’

  ‘Oh…yeah course…’

  ‘And the other I blew up.’

  ‘How did you blow him up? Another car bomb?’

  ‘No, I sellotaped a grenade to the head and pulled the pin.’

  ‘Fucking hell Dave…you can’t do shit like that…isn’t that like torture or something.’

  ‘The information that was leaked caused a covert team to get compromised, they were tortured and put to death.’

  ‘Hmmm, fair enough then I guess.’

  ‘We’re they all men? Did you have rules like no women and no children?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Which one no? No they weren’t all men or no you didn’t have rules?’

  ‘Both, they weren’t all men and no I didn’t have rules…children are never targeted though.’

  ‘But you killed women?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How did you kill them?’

  ‘I just told you, I sellotaped a grenade to her head.’

  ‘Her? Oh she was a female doctor?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did you ever refuse to do one?’

  ‘No…I didn’t refuse but a few I couldn’t complete, one of them had children with him all the time and I couldn’t get to him without hurting the children.’

  ‘So you left it?’

  ‘Yes, I was told to.’

  ‘Would you have done it if you hadn’t been told to?’

  ‘I would have found a way.’

  ‘Have you ever been shot?’

  ‘No, shot at but never shot.’

  ‘Captured?’

  ‘Once.’

  ‘What happened then?’

  ‘I got away.’

  ‘How did you get away?’

  ‘I walked.’

  ‘No…’ this can be hard work sometimes, ‘like how did you do the getting away…?’

  ‘Oh…I killed them.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘Eight.’

  ‘Fuck! You are shitting me…’

  ‘No.’

  ‘In one go? You killed eight in one go?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Mate, you’re like Liam Neeson in that film when his daughter gets taken…’

  ‘Taken.’

  ‘Yeah that’s what I said…she gets taken.’

  ‘The film…it’s called Taken.’

  ‘Oh right…yeah it is.’

  ‘You mentioned it before.’

  ‘I hope you never become a zombie…we’d be fucked,’ I look at him in awe. The fact that he’s so normal about it, well as normal as Dave can be is the striking thing. Poker faced and devoid of expression.

  ‘I’d shoot myself in the brain if I got bit,’ he replies.

  ‘No offence but I’d shoot you in the brain if you get bit…and I’d keep on shooting…and then still leg it at as fast as I could while throwing grenades at you, you’d be like some super cyborg zombie like the terminator…just refusing to die.’

  I twist round to check the others, forgetting for a second that Clarence and Cookey are in the tanker and wondering why it’s so quiet. Blowers is stretched out on one bench with his eyes closed while Lani and Lillian sit talking quietly on the other one.

  ‘How did she take to the shooting?’ I ask Dave.

  ‘Good,’ he nods, ‘she’s very angry, it’s in her eyes and the way she holds the rifle.’

  ‘Can’t blame her.’

  He doesn't reply but stares out of the window. On the motorway now with the green fields on either side and the tanker behind us.

  ‘I wonder if Clarence has punched Cookey yet.’

  ‘He likes Alex, we all do.’

  ‘Bloody hell mate, did you just admit to liking someone?’

  ‘Yes. I like all of them.’

  ‘Christ, your becoming more human everyday…I don’t know what’s happened to you Dave! You’re just not the man I met…’

  ‘Sorry,’ he replies with a wry grin which shocks me even more.

  ‘Maybe we’ll finally get some rest now they’ve got the fuel,’ I sigh deeply, settling back into the seat with a feeling of accomplishment.

  ‘Maybe Mr Howie.’

  ‘Hope so mate, we deserve it…that’s if Sergeant Hopewell hasn’t had us banned from going back in.'

  We drive on in silence, gradually making our way back to the fort. Blowers snoozing from the warmth, Nick humming to himself up top while smoking. Lani and Lillian chatting quietly and the other two driving the full tanker of fuel behind us. Funny how things work out. If we hadn’t of gone to the refinery we’d never have met Lillian and then not found the tanker. Now here we are, driving back with the mission complete, and other than blowing up the country’s biggest refinery and causing a massive supernova mushroom cloud, and destroying miles of surrounding countryside and which also probably caused a tidal wave that flooded down the river…other than that it’s not been that bad.

  Not too bad at all.

  Thirty

  ‘You understand Debbie,’ Graham whines, ‘we really should have a multi-faith area where people can worship. After everything we’ve all been through, a quiet place to reflect will be good for the soul.’

  ‘I know Graham, I agree but apparently Lord high and mighty Howie said we can’t have one, and everyone has to do what Lord Howie says.’

  ‘He’s wrong,’ Graham says quietly, he watches the Sergeant closely, seeing the stress on her face, ‘you should be in charge here, you’re a sergeant
and with the police….’

  ‘I know he’s bloody wrong,’ Sergeant Hopewell snaps, ‘and thank you for the vote of confidence, things would be run a great deal better if I was in charge I can tell you that.’

  ‘You’ve got our support, the whole congregation is behind you and not just the Christians either but all of us.’

  ‘Thank you Graham, you know…really we should be looking at a place of worship but getting them to give any ground up,’ she makes finger quote marks, ‘is impossible.’

  ‘What about outside?’ Graham persists.

  ‘We can’t go out the front, it’s too risky until we’ve got an alarm system in place.’

  ‘The back then?’ He asks.

  ‘The back? What out that door? There’s only a bit of ground there.’

  ‘That’s all we need, a quiet place to reflect and say our prayers, a non-denominational area for persons of faith to offer their prayers, and the ground is surrounded by water so there is really very little risk.’

  Sergeant Hopewell stares across the fort to the back wall, remembering the small patch of ground they used when the women and children fled from the battle.

  ‘I don’t know Graham,’ she hesitates, the fort has to be kept secure, that’s the whole point. But then he did just say his group pledge their support to her, and if she can get enough supporters then asking Howie and his group to leave will be easy. Get rid of them and get back to things being run how they should, with committee’s and meetings. The right people in the right roles, and everything being over-seen by her. ‘Let me have a think about it.’

  ‘There’s a lot of us,’ Graham offers discretely, ‘and we all have families and the people living near to us…we can muster a lot of support should you need it when you decide to take leadership.’ Graham lets the words sink in. For days Graham had been promising a place of worship and is aware that some of the religions are starting to question his ability to lead them and make arrangements. Not being of any set religion himself, Graham found himself in a central position and able to walk amongst the different sects with ease. Now, they were waiting for the place of worship and he was under pressure to deliver it.

  ‘Okay,’ she nods, ‘leave it with me, I’ll try and get something worked out today.’

  ‘That’s great Debbie,’ he smiles and nods, ‘I know you’re busy but if you need any help just ask, there’s plenty of us willing to roll our sleeves up and muck in you know.’

 

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