by RR Haywood
The magnified faces of the undead swim into view and I take a few seconds to watch as they march in perfect timing. As I scan for a target I wonder why they’re letting us just take pot shots like this. They’ve got tens of thousands but we’ve still just taken almost fifty down, not counting the quick burst from Dave.
Their heads are held steady too, not lolling or rolling about. They look composed. The faces aren’t showing that hungry look but are set and focussed. Eyes forward with mean looks and there’s no doubt we’re being watched by many pairs of eyes.
Feet swing and plant in perfect synchronisation. Arms swing to maintain momentum. I pick a big ugly male in the front and breathe out slowly as I gauge the sway and motion of the vehicle.
The first shot takes his head off, one second he is there, walking along and the next his head is gone as the ones closest to him get sprayed with bits of brain and gore. They don’t flinch but keep moving.
The next one is a female, old and wrinkly with lank grey hair hanging down and a ragged wound festering in her neck. Her head is taken off with another clear shot.
Third one down and another head shot, watching the pink explosion as the body flies back into the one marching behind it.
Four and another clear shot. Five then six. Number seven is a teenage male, all gangly arms and legs, not a child but not yet a man and he never will be now as I remove his head for him.
Seven clear shots. Eight is another woman and I can start to feel a prickling sensation coming up my spine. I take the shot and drop her, Dave shouting down that it’s another clear shot.
Nine and I pause as the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, a sense that all is not as it seems. This road makes them easy targets. Far too easy. If they’re evolving and getting smarter then why pick the one road we can use to cut them down.
‘Nine,’ Dave shouts as I take the shot.
Too easy. This is too easy. They’re smarter than this. Well they aren’t but it is. The infection sent Marcy in, and it worked so well too. If not for Dave again we’d all be turned by now.
‘Something wrong boss?’ Clarence asks as I hesitate, sweeping the scope across the rank but with no idea what I’m looking for.
‘This isn’t right.’
‘What isn’t?’ Lani asks with concern.
‘This,’ I lift to my knees and stare back at them with my naked eye, ‘Clarence…stop the vehicle mate.’
He brings it to a stop within a few feet as we gather to stare out the back, the rest of them flicking between me and the oncoming horde.
‘Make ready to fire, all of you…Dave, be ready if they start running, Clarence too.’
‘Say the word,’ Clarence replies, ‘what you got boss?’
‘Not sure…something,’ my voice trails off as I watch them coming. Step by step and each one bringing them closer to our position.
I pass the sniper rifle to one of the lads and take up an assault rifle, racking the bolt back and making ready before lifting it up to aim. The others do the same, following my cue to rack and aim.
‘What’s up?’ Lani asks in the quietness of the vehicle.
‘This isn’t right,’ I murmur again.
‘What isn’t?’ She presses.
‘I don’t know…something…’ the sniper rifles was blowing them away, then the quick strafe by Dave with the GPMG, but it’s nothing we haven’t seen or done many times before. As we dropped one so another moved up to fill the space. But they’ve done that before too.
The expression on their faces. That’s what bothers me. They’re not showing the signs of aggression but just look focussed, they don’t look to be growling or making noises, just marching with their heads fixed upright.
‘They’re getting very close Mr Howie,’ Nick mutters.
‘I know mate, just hang on a second,’ I keep watching them. Watching them looking at us. Just a short distance away now, close enough to pick out individual details on their faces.
They come to a stop. Not a shot is fired and no one moves. They don’t stamp their feet down like an army would, they just stop and stand still in that perfect positioning.
‘What’s going on?’ Cookey whispers.
I don’t answer but keep watching. Why have they stopped? They should be swarming us now, charging forward to try their luck. Doing something. Running past us even but they don’t, they just stand there.
Meredith growls, the deep throaty rumble filling the Saxon. Clarence revs the engine slightly and Blowers shifts position, his boots creaking on the metallic floor.
They don’t show expression nor reaction, but neither does Dave and Lani is also very poker faced, and over the last few days I have become adept at reading both of them, sensing their moods and what they’re thinking. And right now I get the overwhelming impression this horde is suddenly unsure of what to do. No, not that, unsure of what we’re doing is more like it.
The sense of being watched sounds stupid as there are thousands and thousands of them stretching back over a long distance, but only those at the front can see us and it’s from them I get that creeping sensation of being watched. Not by them, but by what’s inside them. Assessed and evaluated, waiting to see what we do next.
I lift the rifle and take aim again, they show no reaction so I lower it down without taking a shot and still they wait.
Arms hanging limp at sides, bodies upright and poised. Heads fixed with eyes staring forward. No lips pulled back, no teeth bared and no howls or guttural groans.
Think Howie. You’re missing something here.
‘Dave, can you see the end?’
‘No.’
‘Boss, what we doing?’ Clarence asks again.
I step forward to the edge of the Saxon and look out, taking a deep breath before I shout, ‘what do you want?’
Nothing and I feel suddenly stupid for throwing a dumb question at a giant horde of unthinking undead. Only they aren’t unthinking. Something is controlling them, something is making them march in perfect timing and that same something is making them stop and wait there.
It was that something the question was directed at. But how can it answer. I don’t even know what it is. Like a conscious entity or a living thing with a mind. The idea of it is fleeting and hard to fix in my mind but I sense I’m on the right track.
‘HOWIE,’ thousands of voices boom out saying my name. Not shouted or screamed, just spoken. Male, female, high and low pitched but the word was clear and again I feel the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
‘I’m here,’ I shout back, ‘I’m Howie.’
‘Fuck me,’ Blowers mutters and I can feel the tension ramping up inside the vehicle. They don’t respond and I have to think hard to convince myself I didn’t imagine them saying my name.
‘I said I’m HERE!’ My voice starts to shout and ends up bellowing the last word as I feel that pinch of anger starting to gnaw away.
‘This is sooo fucking creepy…can we just shoot them please,’ Cookey asks.
‘Lani, do you feel anything?’ Dave calls down.
‘Nothing, apart from being creeped out like Cookey and wanting to blow them apart,’ she answers in a half whisper.
‘Mr Howie, there’s another column working along a road inland from here,’ Dave says softly, dropping his head for second so his voice comes down and not out.
‘They’ve divided their forces,’ Clarence says, ‘they knew we’d come for them on this road…we just walked into a trap.’
‘Is that it?’ I murmur, ‘I SAID IS THAT IT? YOU TRYING TO TRAP US?’ I shout as the anger builds up.
It watches the vehicle and the people within. It recognises all of them now. It knows the small one that is so deadly. It knows the giant and the laughing young men. It knows the girl was a host but now is not. It knows the dog is the one that took so many hosts down.
More than that, it knows Howie.
It recognises his voice as he shouts. It watches through many eyes and listens through many ears and i
t holds the hosts steady.
It studies and learns. Trying to understand why he is different, for even from this distance the infection can feel a chemical change within the hosts. Subtle yet definite. Fear grows in the hosts from this man and the infection does not know why.
So it waits. The divided forces are coming now as they start to flank and move closer, then it hears Howie shouting again, asking if it is trying to trap them.
The infection doesn't answer. It can answer and has done so simply as an attempt to unnerve Howie. Knowing from the collective intelligence that thousands of voices saying his name will cause a reaction.
‘Dave.’
‘Yes Mr Howie.’
‘You ready?’
‘Yes Mr Howie.’
‘All yours,’ I stick one finger up as he opens fire, withering the front ranks within seconds as they burst apart from the heavy calibre rounds slamming through them.
‘MOVE,’ I shout as they burst to life, gripping a handrail as Clarence accelerates away from the now charging horde. Dave’s precise aim keeps them back and once again we watch utterly mesmerised as he strafes left to right getting perfect head shots. His mind must be able to compute the tiny variables in height, making constant adjustments up and down and he doesn't keep hold of the trigger either, but presses and releases perfectly in time with the strafing.
‘They’ve stopped running,’ Nick shouts, I spin round to see them back at the orderly march. Figures constantly moving forward to take the place of those cut down.
‘Ahead on the right,’ Dave shouts down, ‘junction…they must be on that road.’
‘Take the junction,’ I say to Clarence as he starts dropping the speed off to negotiate the bend. He still takes it fast, causing us to either hang on tight or go flying across the inside. Once out of the junction he pushes he foot down, holding the big vehicle in the centre of the road.
‘Contact ahead,’ Dave shouts after a minute of tense driving. With his height advantage it takes until we’ve cleared the next bend to see the horde coming at us, already charging flat out and Dave doesn't wait for the order but starts firing the second he gets a clear line.
Clarence drops the speed, bringing the Saxon down to a stop before selecting reverse and starting to move backwards, buying time for Dave to fire into them before they swarm us.
‘MR HOWIE,’ Dave roars over the firing, ‘CLIMB UP AND SEE.’ I clamber over into the passenger seat and open the door, using the step to lever myself up onto the roof. The noise of the gun is deafening and I can feel the air ripping apart inches from my face as Dave continues to fire. I get up top and watch as he strafes to the left at the spot I was blocking on my way up.
On my feet and I stare out, the horde ahead of us is still charging and this close I can see their faces are now twisted with aggression. Bodies sprawling across the ground and the light coloured surface of the road runs thick with blood.
To the left, in the distance must be another lane or road, another column snaking along just visible as a dark mass drifting amongst the green and brown hues.
Spinning round I look off to the right in the direction of the coastal road, the first horde will be running now, trying to get us boxed in.
‘OKAY,’ I shout and drop down the back to climb into the rear, ‘another one off to the left, they must have been using the junctions to peel off.’ ‘Clarence, turn round and face the other way.’
‘Will do, narrow road so it might take a minute.’
‘Get ready to fire out the back, DAVE?’
‘Yes?’
‘We’re turning round, be ready to fire to the front and we’ll take the rear, they’ll be coming in from the coastal road.’
‘Roger,’ he commences firing again as Clarence starts the fifteen point turn, shunting forward until the front of the vehicle is making a big hole in the hedge, then backing up while turning the wheel the other way. The narrow road makes it difficult but it also reduces the width of the attacking horde, making it easier for Dave to hold them off.
‘They’re coming from the coastal road,’ Dave bellows.
‘Clarence we’re side on, we need to get turned…’
‘I’m bloody trying.’
‘Everyone out now, form a line across the road…DAVE…pick a side and we’ll take the other.’
‘Take the left side,’ he shouts.
‘Nick, get the second GPMG, Clarence hold still while we get out.’ He stops with the front buried in a hedge while we jump out the back and sprint a few feet down the road. Nick drops down behind the GPMG, pushing the tripod stand out while making ready. The rest of us place magazines on the ground ready for quick changes. Meredith going nuts in the back of the vehicle at being restrained and unable to join us.
‘I fucking love this job!’ Cookey shouts as he takes aim at the bend in the road ahead of us.
‘Come on….I am fucking itching to use this,’ Nick adds, his hand ready on the trigger guard.
‘NOW,’ We open up as they charge into view and at the point of seeing us they really do charge. Full on sprinting with legs pumping high and arms working to drive them on, the sight is amazing; the elderly and fat running like Olympic sprinters, they’ve even got their hands stretched out to prevent drag.
Two heavy machine guns and four assault rifles make a hell of a racket as this quiet leafy lane is turned into a war zone. They change tack, swerving left to right as they run. Shots start getting missed as they duck and weave. Some of them getting dangerously close before they’re shot down.
‘GET IN,’ the loudspeaker booms out as we start a fighting retreat, waiting for Nick to stand up and move backwards, his whole body vibrating from the power of the weapon.
‘Dave…SWITCH,’ I scream out as he twists round to take our lot now to his front while we put the fire down to the rear of the vehicle.
One by one we get inside, Nick holding them off, then we cover him as he pushes the GPMG in then jumps up.
‘COMING ACROSS THE FIELD,’ Dave roars down.
‘DAVE, MAKE A PATH…CLARENCE GET US OUT OF HERE…’
‘HANG ON,’ the big man shouts, giving us a second to find something to grip before he floors it. The engine screams with fury as it gathers speed, Dave firing straight ahead to make a gap.
‘HOLD US,’ Blowers shouts as he takes a stand next to me, hands grip our belts to hold us steady so we can release our grip and fire out the back. Only two of us but nearly every shot takes one down. The hedgerow starts blurring as we gather speed, Clarence shouting a warning a second before the front impacts straight into the horde.
The vehicle lifts, bouncing up on the fallen corpses to slam back down. As we power deep into them we start to see them from the rear doors. Realising they have a way into the vehicle and a message must pass between them as they surge for the back doors as we get deeper.
‘MOVE,’ Nick shouts, we both step aside as he walks forward holding Meredith on her lead. He braces as she reaches the edge. Her strong jaws and lightning speed preventing any of them from getting into the back. They lunge and dive but she moves deftly from side to side, white teeth flashing against the black of her fur. Blood spraying as she grips, shakes and lets go.
One dog holds the back clear, Cookey and Lani gripping Nick by his belt to stop him falling as he holds the lead.
‘BRACE,’ Clarence roars, I spin round just in time to catch a glimpse of a solid mass of undead lying in the middle of the road. More diving in to create a wall of bodies that quickly forms higher than the vehicle, more running in behind to make it thicker, denser. The speed of them is sickening, the way they sacrifice tells me the infection is driving these undead, watching us and learning how to react.
The front of the Saxon ploughs into the wall, more undead throw themselves at the pile. We start to lift as the front wheels find purchase on the human forms and as we lift I see them flinging themselves into the middle between the tyres, trying to ground us.
The motion rocks us violent
ly and all we can do is hold on. Nick stumbles, barely held by Cookey and Lani at the same time as Meredith lunges forward, ripping the lead from his hand. She stumbles and loses grip, falling out the back as we scream, but there is nothing we can do but hold on tight.
The front lifts higher as the vehicle tries to climb the sudden hill of bodies. Their constant motion makes us slide left and right, the wheels spinning in the air as they lift and fall back down. A glimpse of Meredith as she fights at the back, spinning and leaping and still keeping them away from us.
A solid charge from the rear as we’re getting bogged in. A mass of them surging forward towards the open doors. Meredith on her own and about to be engulfed. Dave still firing to the front and sides, trying to clear them away. Clarence jerking the wheel hard to the left, then to the right as he powers on and off, using the weight of the vehicle to slowly squash them down so the wheel can find grip.
Flat on my back now, one hand gripping on to stop from falling down and out the back doors and I see them charging in closer and closer. The Saxon bucks and bounces, slamming my back against the floor. The others hanging on for dear life. Meredith is all that stands between that charging horde and the back of the vehicle. She’s alone, defending us and fighting desperately but every second sees her getting swamped.
With a roar I twist round and see my axe handle sticking out between the seats. As the Saxon bucks up I use the motion to dive forward and grip the shaft. My hand closes round it, pulling the beautiful double bladed weapon into me.
Then I let go and let gravity slide me down the long floor of the van to land on the road with my axe already up and swinging. I pile into the solid mass, scything wide and letting the razor sharp edge whisper through necks, faces and skulls.
I’ve learnt to use the axe now and make use of the length of the shaft, swinging it wide and gripping the end before I slide one hand up to hold it like a battering ram, pummelling at the same time as chopping them down.
The Saxon roars behind me, Meredith snarls and leaps as she tears throats out. Then she’s at my side, a dark shape that stands her ground as we stare out in defiance at our common enemy. Her lips pull back showing the rows of deadly blood stained teeth. Her eyes are alive with the glory of battle, standing with her pack as we face them down.