The Undead the Second Week Compilation Edition Days 8-14

by RR Haywood

  Window smashed, door opened, cowling ripped off and wires pressed to start the engine. Fuel cap prised open and a long rag dipped into the tank then pulled out to hang down against the body of the vehicle.

  ‘Maddox…you got a light bruv?’ Mohammed shouts as they reach the front. Spinning round Maddox takes the sight in within a split second, grinning broadly as he runs over.

  Jagger gets half out of the driver’s seat, one foot still in the vehicle pressed on the foot brake. The second it flames Jagger releases his foot and youths push the vehicle down the steep ramp.

  They release and drop back, all of them turning to run further away, knowing the vehicle will get jammed at the first bend.

  Paula and Roy run with them, heaving themselves up the ramp as they hear the vehicle smash into the side wall, screeching metal against concrete then silence as they all get round the next bend and pause to listen.

  Weapons are up and aimed as the horde take advantage of the momentary ceasefire to surge up the ramp, flooding over and round the vehicle. The rag burns quickly, the flames eating up like a short fuse to drop down into the fuel tank.

  The fuel ignites. The pressure inside the tank expands so rapidly is disintegrates the structure of the vehicle surrounding the tank.

  A huge fireball bursts out, sending scorching hot twisting metal fragments deep into the undead.

  In the enclosed space the noise is immense; deep, long and echoing. The stench of burning fuel and chemicals wafts up.

  ‘You two,’ Maddox points to Jagger and Mohammed, ‘I told you to find a way out,’ he barks, ‘good work and all that shit but get us the fuck out of here…you,’ he switches his pointing finger to two more kids, ‘do what they just done and get more cars down here.’

  Everyone else gets ready, aiming weapons at the bend. Roy hands his assault rifle and magazines to a youth armed with a single shot rifle. After seeing the new method of the zombies weaving and swerving he knows it’s only a matter of time before a few of them get through, and that would cause carnage.

  So he draws his bow, quickly testing the string and rolling his shoulders. From his pack he pulls out the night vision goggles. The inside of the car park is dark and the bulky goggles help cut down his other senses, giving him a sense of being isolated and detached.

  He pulls them on, adjusting the strap and staring down the now bright green ramp, the flames from the burning vehicle giving enough light source to make the vision clear. The only thing that bothers him is the large amount of people now staring at him. They make him feel uncomfortable which he doesn't like.

  However he also knows that as soon as the first zombies appears they will be facing down there, and not at him.

  From his pocket he draws a pack of sugar free chewing gum and pops one of the little white squares into his mouth. Humming quietly as he reaches back to grasp an arrow, bringing it over head to apply the groove to the string and bring it onto the arrow rest in one smooth movement. He gives a few small practise pulls and with each tug he feels the calming sensation spreading through him.

  The assault rifle is good, very powerful and all that but without constant training he doesn't have the precision of aiming and taking down a moving target.

  These youths have enough firepower to cut them down on mass, so now he will focus on the ones that threaten to break through.

  ‘Roy! I said are you alright?’ Paula’s voice breaks through his focus. He nods curtly before turning to face her. Staring at her face bathed in green.

  ‘Have you got your torch?’ He asks.

  ‘Yeah why?’ She replies.

  ‘Just check my mouth, my gum doesn't feel right.’

  ‘Now Roy?’ She asks gently, ‘we’re kinda busy.’

  ‘Yeah I know but it just feels weird.’

  ‘Okay, open up.’

  Roy closes his eyes and open his mouth, looking slightly up to prevent the torch glaring into the night vision goggles. He flinches slightly when Paula’s fingers touch his chin gently to move his head left, right then up and down.

  ‘It’s fine, it looks fine Roy, your gums are pink and healthy…no lumps…no growths or cuts…nope it’s all clear,’ she speaks in a calm voice, again adopting the tone of her own doctor.

  ‘Thank you…er…sorry I just er…you know.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she touches his shoulder, ‘anytime Roy, really...’

  ‘They’re coming!’ Someone yells. Roy steps away, switching immediately back to the task at hand.

  Bow slightly lowered, arrow nocked and he watches as they appear, charging into view at the bend. Guns open up and fire into them, cutting the bodies down. Left hand on the bow frame, right hand holding the end of the arrow. Watching it all with a feeling of being detached, not here, not part of it.

  Bodies get slaughtered and slammed away. Slowly the solid mass start gaining ground and Roy watches with curious interest as the front ranks start weaving left to right but with no set pattern.

  If the youths focussed on just firing into the masses they would do well, but they get caught up with trying to track targets and missing. The rounds still strike but they hit more arms, legs and bodies which don’t kill them.

  Several break free, charging in that weaving fashion. Roy looses on instinct. The arrow driving deep into the skull of the one at the front. As the body slams into the wall and starts to slide down, Roy is already nocking the next arrow, pulling it back to hold ready. Another one getting in front, he looses and strikes solid straight through the eye socket.

  A feeling of clam inside him. Heart rate barely above normal and between shots he chews the gum slowly, enjoying the taste and sensation.

  Habit of hand and without conscious thought the next arrow is grasped, nocked and ready. His eyes scanning the bend, not really paying any notice to the death taking place, not realising the solid wall of noise coming from the many weapons firing repeatedly so close to him.

  All he watches for are the ones that break free and start making ground. Those are his. Those are his targets. Just like back in the ranges when he was alone and could fire again and again, running between the targets until his legs ached and his hand was cramping.

  Loose and the arrow flies true and straight; the power of the missile taking the zombie clean off its feet.

  ‘BACK,’ Maddox roars.

  Roy goes with them, his movement slow and steady, his feet sliding over the ground behind him to be sure he won’t trip.

  ‘CAR COMING DOWN,’ Paula shouts, he steps to the outside wall to keep a full view of the road ahead.

  The sound of an engine reaches his ears, youths shouting and talking but he blots it out, focussing on the solitary figures that weave and dance in front of him.

  ‘NOW,’ Maddox shouts. Roy watches as the vehicle rolls past him then gently jogs back with the others, reaching the first level of the car park. The car bogs down amongst the zombies this time and doesn't make it to the wall. The effect is still the same and it goes bang just like the first one did.

  The ramp flattens out as they reach the first level but they press on, sticking to the curvature to start up the incline to the next level.

  The zombies appear within a few seconds, a relentless surge that just keeps coming. Detached and distant, Roy detects that there are not so many weapons firing now. Some of the youths must be running out. Only a few less but given time and they’ll all be running out.

  He looses the next arrow and holds his position, somewhere in the back of mind he wonders if there is a way out of here? He hasn’t spent a great deal of time in multi-level car parks but generally speaking you drive up, park and walk down the stairs to the ground level. Those stairs will be no good as the ground will be thick with the zombies.

  They are trapped with nowhere to go but up, but that thought is somewhere in the back of his mind and still his heart rate doesn't increase.

  Paula senses the same thing. Watching some of the youths holding their now inert weapons. Shotguns and rif
les mainly as they still have plenty of assault rifle magazines but those will soon deplete from the constant sustained firing.

  Roy’s abilities are stunning and far beyond anything imaginable, and for a fleeting moment it makes her wonder just how many people there were in the world that have simply incredible skills and abilities but shunned any form of limelight.

  That thought is banished as quickly as it comes, replaced with a sinking feeling that Howie isn’t coming. Something has gone wrong. Clearly very wrong.

  Thirty Eight

  ‘Why does it feel that this is going wrong? I shout back at yet another column making themselves known ahead of us.

  ‘The road is clear,’ Dave shouts down. Still in the fields and we’ve been battering our way through the hedges and crossing the rough ground but coming towards a lane we see another dark mass waiting for us. Standing silent and ready for us to pop through the hedge right into the middle of them.

  They’ve got smart. Very bloody smart. Every lane and road seems to have another thick column. Tens of thousands of undead, possibly more and they’ve split into solid chunks intent on slowing us down while the others charge in from all directions. It’s almost as if they know our primary weapon is the GPMG which cannot hold off multiple points of attack, and every time we get them into a position where we can cut them down in huge numbers, they simply withdraw and re-group.

  As we change course on the field and aim for the road Dave shouts down that they’re moving off, also heading towards the road. I thought we just needed a straight run into town but now there is a growing sensation that we’ve been outwitted and kept occupied. The time we’ve taken to get out of each little skirmish has meant they could have easily reached the town by now, and I can only hope they’ve got the defences up and aren’t relying on us.

  ‘BRACE,’ I shout, not through worry of impacting with the hedge as we’ve gone through enough of them with barely a tremble. What concerns me is the steep bank down to the road and the impact as we drop quickly, the front wheels taking the brunt but still sending a violent rattling bone jarring jolt through the vehicle.

  Once straight I accelerate hard, determined to get past that junction before they burst out. Normally we wouldn’t worry and just plough through but after trying to ground us, I’m now trying to avoid going through any more than a few at a time.

  Dave fires as soon as they show, his aiming as true now as ever before and once again I find myself worrying needlessly. The bodies fly off, spinning and crashing as we sweep by, Dave twisting round to fire deep into the junction and take whole rows of them out.

  Fixed with concentration I keep eyes forward, the headlights on full to give us the best view possible. Within a few minutes we’re hitting the outskirts of town and seeing the orange glow of fire. The burning buildings illuminate the area and as we come out of the coastal road into the patch of open land before the town we see the signs of intense battle.

  Bodies everywhere, some clearly shot down and others in varying states between burn to a crisp and smouldering away with oily fumes coming off them. Even from inside the vehicle the air is rancid; chemicals mixed with burning rubber, oil, fuel and of course that stench of foul meat being cooked.

  Slowing down and the lads crowd towards the front, staring out the window at the scene laid out in front of us. Vehicles packed into the junction to seal it off, smouldering with just the metal frames left to melt into the road.

  ‘GUN SHOTS AHEAD,’ Dave calls down, ‘Assault rifles and shotguns.’ As the road straightens into the High Street we see the back of the horde ahead of us.

  Some of the shops are blown apart with clear signs of explosions which must be from the bombs Dave told them to plant. The ground is absolutely covered in corpses with the zombies standing and walking on them as they push forward. There must be thousands of them, all crammed in deep and thick and facing away from us.

  Maddox must have retreated up the High Street, setting traps off as he went. God knows where they are now but if Dave can hear gun shots they must be relatively close. But the fact we can’t see them means this horde is by far the biggest yet.

  Glancing round I can see some of the vehicles have burnt out which indicates this battle has been going on for some time. They’ve slaughtered many of the undead but with so many left and surging forward they can’t have long left before they get overwhelmed.

  Stopping at the start of the High Street I select reverse and pull back as far as I can until there is a decent distance between us but still close enough to fire effectively, then I manoeuvre until we’re facing away so the back is towards the horde.

  I don’t even need to give the instruction now as they get the back doors open and drop down to form a line across the back with Clarence in the middle with the second GPMG. Magazines get put down in front of the kneeling lads. I stay close to the driver’s side and make ready.

  ‘They’re gonna charge as soon as we start firing,’ I say while stacking my magazines on the ground, ‘and it won’t be long before they come from behind us.’

  ‘I’ll keep watch,’ Dave calls down.

  ‘We’ll stay here as long as possible…try and get as many down as possible and draw them towards us, as soon as they come from behind us we’ll drive off and try to lure them away.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Clarence replies in an absent minded tone, fiddling with the ammunition belt, ‘bet it goes bloody wrong though.’

  ‘Really? You think?’ I add in a softly sarcastic voice.

  ‘Nah,’ Lani cuts in, ‘it never goes wrong…’

  ‘We ready?’ A chorus of soft replies which shows how tired we’re all starting to feel. Sweating continuously and now surrounded by so many foul stenches and bodies. Not a happy place and not a happy time. This place looks like the very worst image of hell and it’s about to get nastier.

  ‘Dave? You ready?’

  ‘Yes Mr Howie.’

  ‘Righto, best get on with it then…’ My finger squeezes the trigger, sending the first shot bursting out the end to spin through the air and into the first skull, and hopefully out of that skull and into another one…but it’s dark so I can’t see, and within a split second of my shot going out everyone else opens up, filling the air with noise, more heat and more smells.

  The two heavy machine guns give their dull staccato thuds, accompanied by the slightly lighter but faster sounding noise of the assault rifles. From our combined fire power nearly the whole of the rear rank goes down within a couple of seconds. Then we’re firing into the second and third ranks.

  They react quickly, whipping round and as one, in that same synchronised motion, they start the charge. A deep rear section that breaks away to come at us.

  There’s only seven of us but our rate of fire is enough to pummel them with ease. Dave and Clarence, both so experienced on the big guns do deadly work with Clarence bellowing up that he’ll do the right side if Dave does the left. With the big guns having a far smaller area to focus on, and the rest of us firing our rifles they go down in huge numbers.

  Rows of dominoes falling again and again. None of them get more than seven or eight steps towards us before being felled by a spinning round. Heads erupt, skulls explode, intestines get shot out, limbs shorn off. Blood sprays, gore flies and the corpses mount up. Every single one of those we kill represents a human life. A person who had hopes and dreams and was no different to us. Luck is the only thing that separates us, and it could so easily have been us in that horde and a few of them flinging super-hot bullets into our faces instead.

  A dull roar that grows into a rage filled howl lifts from them. Trapped and unable to do anything other than try to get at us. We’re behind you and far enough way to fuck you up. I just hope that whatever mess Maddox and his lot are in, they can hear our guns and take some comfort that we’re close.

  ‘MAGAZINE,’ Cookey shouts, ejecting one to ram another home, he racks the bolt back and commences firing again. His young face normally so jovial now con
sumed with utter focus as those hard eyes glare at the things he destroys.

  ‘ATTACK FROM THE REAR,’ Dave’s drill sergeant voice.

  ‘CAN YOU HOLD THEM OFF?’ I shout back.

  ‘YES,’ he replies in that tone that implies utter confidence, fact, no doubt. He can hold hundreds off with one gun.

  Dave twists round to open up on that lot while Clarence goes back to strafing across the width of the street. When his belt feeds runs out we have a few seconds of mild panic as we try to suppress the charge with just five rifles but glancing down I can see the big man moves quickly with long practised movements that get the next belt fed in.

  The impact of the bigger gun opening up is clear as the charge is put down, but it does mean they got a lot closer and if anything happens to that gun, or it runs out, well, that will be the time to do one and leg it.

  ‘TIME TO GO,’ Dave roars out and it’s enough to get us moving. Clarence covers the others as I run down to get in the driver’s seat, chucking my rifle into the middle between the seats.

  ‘GO,’ Lani shouts after a brief pause while Clarence ceases firing to get up into the back, once in he starts up again, getting a few more shots in while I start pulling away.

  With the junction jammed up and the coastal road now thick with incoming undead the only option is to aim for the open land and hope for the best. The powerful headlights sweep across the ground, picking out the children’s play area and the streaming figures running through it. We bear left and aim beyond the junction, going round the packed in burnt out cars and a much larger molten lump at the centre of the scorched remains of the fire. Dave continues up top, now aiming at the High Street until the end drops from view then switching to the others coming from the other direction.

  Paula and Maddox have blocked the junction too well as it seals us into the area. Sweeping round in a wide circle and the only two ways out are the High Street and the coastal road, unless we can find a way through the play park. Driving closer and I batter through the low fence, getting into the once manicured grounds.