“Holy shit,” Tanya said from the front of the boat. “There’re zombies everywhere.”
We didn’t need the binoculars to see what she was talking about. The movement in the trees on the shore and dark shapes shambling through the fields told us everything we needed to know: this area was crawling with zombies. I couldn’t see any hybrids out there, just a whole load of shamblers. A few seconds after we saw them, their low moans came drifting across the water to our boat.
They couldn’t get to us but the sight of so many zombies made my skin crawl. The air was thick with the stench of their rotting flesh. Their unnatural gait and staring yellow eyes spoke to some deep fear within me. I could barely stand to look at them as they dragged their putrefying corpses across the fields and between the trees.
Some of the walking dead came down to the edge of the river bank and stood glaring at us. Some stretched out their blue mottled hands and clawed at the air. None of them stepped into the water.
As I watched them, I understood the fundamental difference between these dead shamblers and the living hybrids. The shamblers were totally under the control of the virus. It had killed the host and now controlled the body. In the case of the hybrids, the host was still alive and still had some control.
Even though the hybrids had a primal urge to spread the virus, they also had a remnant of their human emotions. The hybrids at the harbour had jumped into the sea because their desire to catch us overrode the virus’s need to keep the host alive.
Their virus-infected brains didn’t think, “If I jump into the sea, I will drown”. They didn’t base their actions on logic, only on the need to kill their prey. They no longer possessed the intelligence to avoid throwing themselves into dangerous situations.
The shamblers had the same lack of intelligence but the virus had complete control of their bodies so it kept them from harm because if the body was harmed, the virus could not be spread by that host.
If the rage of the hybrids meant they acted without self-preservation and ignored the needs of the virus, maybe there was a way to use that against them.
Sam waved his tire iron at the zombies on the riverbank. “You want some of this? Come and get it.”
“There’s no point taunting them,” Jax said.
“I’m ready to bust some heads, man.” Despite his outburst, Sam seemed too relaxed for a man on a dangerous mission.
I, on the other hand, was terrified. The countryside was crawling with zombies and we were heading to a city where the undead population would be even larger.
We weren’t going to make it out alive.
twenty-six
We continued along the river into the night. An inky blackness crept across the sky and low-lying dark clouds blotted out the moon. I could barely see the zombies on the bank but their low moans told me they were still there. Apart from the moans, the only other sound was the purr of the engine and the rush of the water against the Zodiac’s sides as we glided upriver.
The gasoline smell coming from the engine masked the stench of rotting flesh hanging in the night air.
Tanya, Jax, and Sam were quiet. I guessed they were all wondering what lay ahead and how they were going to complete their mission. In their minds, they had probably already taken over the radio station, got their message out, and were back in the Lucky Escape sipping champagne.
I had no such illusions. My three companions might be winners in life but I was used to failure mixed with a good dose of disappointment. I was pretty sure I would never see the Lucky Escape again. Or Lucy. My heart broke at the thought of not seeing Lucy again. What had started out as a massive crush based only on her looks had developed into something much more. I didn’t think I could bear surviving the apocalypse without her.
Tanya turned to us and whispered, “We’ve reached the city.”
The trees and fields gave way to houses with lawns that stretched down to the river. Beyond the houses, the glow of street lights illuminated hundreds of zombies wandering aimlessly like lost souls.
As we traveled farther upriver, the houses gave way to industrial units and factories then shops and businesses as the river wound into the heart of Truro. The banks of the river became walls of cement and stone with a safety rail that separated the river from a small walking path. The path was heaving with nasties. They glared at us as we passed them.
They were everywhere, clogging up the city with rotting flesh and hungry moans. In the distance we heard a gunshot and I wondered if the army was actually fighting this massive horde of the undead or if there were survivors in the city. Maybe someone had simply had enough and taken their own life. Goodbye, cruel apocalypse.
“We’re not going to be able to get off the boat,” I said.
Sam said, “We don’t need to, man.”
I threw him a confused look but the pale overhead lights on the path barely reached our boat so I wasn’t sure Sam saw my face in the darkness. I added, “What do you mean?”
“The building we’re heading for was BBC Radio Cornwall before the army took it over for Survivor Radio. I came here with Vigo Johnson last year to do an interview about a TV show we had filmed in the Sahara. While we were waiting to go on air, one of the producers was shooting the shit with us and he took us out to the back of the building to get some fresh air. There’s a covered walkway out there with a waist-high wall. The other side of that wall drops straight down into the river. All we have to do is climb out of the boat and over the wall. It’s simple, man.”
It sounded simple but he was forgetting the fact that the building was probably heavily guarded by the military or could be overrun with zombies or hybrids. This was not going to be simple. Rather than give me hope, Sam’s optimism pissed me off.
I sat brooding in the boat until we got to the radio station. I felt a mixture of fear, depression, and anger, which made for a bad combination. I didn’t even know who I was angry at, only that I felt like smashing heads with my baseball bat to relieve the pressure building up inside me.
“We’re here,” Tanya whispered.
The river forked into two. On the left, it ran to a small marina with a large store and a zombie-filled parking lot. On the right, a group of white-painted buildings skirted the water. Both forks ran beneath a wide bridge, along which ran a main road judging by the amount of abandoned cars up there.
The final building on this side of the bridge had black letters on its wall that read, “BBC Radio Cornwall”. A porch roof supported by brown-painted wooden struts ran almost the entire length of the building, covering a narrow walkway, which was hidden from us by a low white wall that dropped down to the water.
There was no sign of life. Or zombies.
“It’s too quiet,” I whispered.
“Would you prefer soldiers? Or zombies, maybe?” Sam asked. He laughed. “Jesus, Alex, you’re too highly-strung, man. Relax.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” I protested. “If the army is running their radio broadcast from here, why aren’t they guarding it?”
Jax leaned forward and said, “Why would they guard it from the river side? Zombies don’t swim.”
And nobody else would be crazy enough to do what we were doing.
Jax steered us in towards the wall and Tanya stood up with the Zodiac’s mooring rope in her hand. She reached up, grabbed the top of the wall and pulled herself up and over in a swift, graceful movement, crowbar in one hand. She checked the area and tied the boat to one of the porch struts. “It’s clear,” she whispered down to us.
Sam went next, heaving his bulky frame over the wall. “Pass the weapons up,” he whispered to us.
Jax passed our bats and his tire iron up to him then looked at me. “You want to go next?”
“You go ahead. I’ll follow.” My refusal was nothing to do with chivalry; I wasn’t sure I could make it over the wall. It wasn’t all that high but for someone as unfit as I was, it was high enough to give me serious doubts that I could pull my bulk over the top. I almost sugge
sted that I stay with the Zodiac but if I did that, I would never be able to get my message to Lucy.
Jax jumped up and pulled herself over quickly.
I stood up in the Zodiac, leaning against the rough, white stone to steady myself. I slid my hands up to the edge of the wall and curled my fingers over the top. I wouldn’t be able to do this. I was too heavy.
Tanya, Jax, and Sam grabbed my forearms and pulled me up. I used the toes of my boots against the wall to assist them but it wasn’t necessary; they had me over the top in seconds.
I stood in the narrow cement walkway between the wall and the building. Both ends of the walkway were closed off with tall, locked, iron gates. Another reason the army didn’t have to worry too much about people climbing in this way.
“Thanks,” I whispered to my companions.
“Don’t mention it, man,” Sam replied. They had pulled me up because they knew I couldn’t climb over by myself. I felt both grateful and embarrassed. I picked up my bat and hoped I could prove myself in the fighting ahead. I was tired of being the weakest member in every group.
Sam went to the nearest window and looked inside. “We’re going in this way,” he whispered. “The studio is upstairs so we need to get up there as quickly as possible.” He jabbed his tire iron at the corner of the window. The glass shattered.
I had thought we were going to use stealth but Sam’s approach was fast and hard. He reached in and opened the window before disappearing through it into the dark room beyond.
“Go, Alex,” Tanya said, pushing me forward. She was making sure I didn’t lag behind by making me go in front of her. Luckily the window was large. I struggled through and found myself inside a carpeted room with vinyl chairs and a sofa. Framed Radio Cornwall posters hung on the walls.
Sam opened the door and light spilled in from a lighted corridor. The girls pushed past me and ran out of the room with Sam. I followed, scared to be left alone. I didn’t want to be killed or captured and someone must have heard that window breaking.
The corridor was brightly lit with strip lights, the floor covered in blue and grey vinyl floor tiles. Pictures of the Radio Cornwall DJs lined the walls.
At the far end of the corridor I could see an empty reception area and a steel and glass door that led to the parking lot. Two soldiers stood outside the door, looking out into the night. Their rifles were slung over their shoulders and they looked relaxed. If they had heard the window breaking, they didn’t seem too bothered by it.
“Alex, this way,” Sam whispered, holding a door open for me across the corridor and gesturing for me to follow him. I went through quickly and we ascended a wide set of stairs to the next floor.
A double door at the top was open and two soldiers stood guarding it, facing away from us. Tanya and Sam rushed up the steps and swung their weapons before the soldiers knew what was happening. They crumpled to the hallway floor.
As I reached the top of the stairs, Sam tossed me an assault rifle. I caught it reflexively, being careful to point the barrel at the floor. I recognised the gun as an L85 rifle but my knowledge of weapons came from video games, not from real life. “I’ve never fired a gun before,” I said.
Jax, holding the other L85 and looking like she could grace the cover of Soldier of Fortune magazine, said, “It’s easy. Just point it and pull the trigger.”
“Come on,” Tanya said, stepping over the bodies in the doorway.
We followed her along the corridor. I kept the gun pointed down and my finger well away from the trigger. The weapon felt heavy in my hand and I had to carry my baseball bat tucked under one arm. The bat hit my leg as I ran. Jax carried her bat in one hand and the rifle in the other. I considered doing the same but I was worried I wouldn’t be able to aim one-handed.
We reached a windowless door at the end of the corridor and Sam opened it. We stepped through into a production studio. The room was dimly lit but an electric glow came from banks of audio machines and computer screens. A plump woman with long blonde hair and wearing glasses, headphones, jeans and a Robert Plant T-shirt looked up from the computer as we entered.
“What the hell?” she asked as she pulled her headphones down to her neck.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Tanya said quickly, raising her hands in a placating motion. “We just want to get into the broadcast studio.”
A large window above the banks of machines showed the next room where a slim black man in his thirties with dreadlocks and wearing a Jim Morrison T-shirt sat at a desk and spoke into a large microphone. He was surrounded by papers, computers and machines with dials and sliders. He wore headphones and seemed oblivious to our presence as he spoke into the microphone.
“We’re broadcasting,” the woman said, pointing to a red light above a door that was marked “On Air”.
“What’s your name?” Tanya asked her.
“Cheryl. Cheryl Ginsburg.”
“Cheryl, we’re going to put out a message on the radio. Jax here is going to stay with you while the boys and I go in there and meet…Johnny Drake, I presume?”
Cheryl nodded.
“We’re not going to hurt anyone,” Tanya said. “But we have to make sure our message goes out to the people. So you can just relax and don’t touch anything.”
Cheryl raised her hands and wheeled her chair away from the computer. Jax levelled her gun in Cheryl’s general direction but the woman didn’t seem to be a threat at all.
Sam opened the door to the next room and we stepped through beneath the “On Air” light.
Johnny Drake looked up as we entered and his eyes went wide. He ripped off his headphones. “What the hell?” He reached for a dial on his desk but I pointed my gun at him.
Tanya stepped up to the desk. “No, Johnny,” she said. “Don’t touch that dial.”
twenty-seven
Johnny raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, guys, no need to do anything we’ll all regret.” It was strange to hear the familiar rich tones of his mid-Atlantic accent in real life when I had heard them on the radio for so long. All the time I had been listening to his show, I hadn’t thought about meeting Johnny Drake in person and I certainly hadn’t envisioned holding him at gunpoint.
Tanya went around to the desk and looked at the controls and dials. “Get me on air,” she said to Johnny.
He nodded. “Okay. Here, let me get this…” Leaning forward, he reached for the control panel.
Tanya grabbed his wrist and looked into his eyes. “Just remember, if you try anything, we’ve got your friend Cheryl at gunpoint in there.” She nodded towards the window. Johnny looked into the production studio where Cheryl sat, arms raised, as Jax stood over her with the L85.
“There’s no problem here,” Johnny said. “I’ll patch you right in and you’ll be on every radio that’s turned on.”
“Do it,” Tanya said.
He reached for a switch then hesitated. “You have to realise,” he said, finger poised over the switch, “that the army listen to Survivor Radio all the time. It plays in all the Survivors Camps. As soon as they hear your voice, they’ll know exactly where you are. There’s a whole platoon stationed outside this building. They have tanks and huge guns and the road is totally blocked with razor wire. You won’t be able to escape.”
“Let me worry about that,” she said, flicking the switch.
Johnny leaned back in his chair with a resigned look that said, “It’s your funeral,” on his face.
“This is a message to all the survivors,” Tanya said into the microphone. “Everything you have been told is a lie. The virus has not infected the world, only Britain. The authorities have told you there is no escape so they can control you and put you in camps. They are covering up their own mistake…a mistake that has killed millions of people and means those in charge are mass murderers.
“You have to refuse to be confined by liars. There are options other than sitting in a Survivors Camp waiting to die. The army are attempting to control ports and marinas
but they have a problem on their hands right now. There is a hybrid version of the virus that is affecting vaccinated soldiers. Yes, that’s right, the soldiers have been vaccinated. Have you? No, they are not going to vaccinate you. Only themselves.
“The hybrids are weakening the military. We saw it ourselves at Falmouth Harbour. All the soldiers there had become hybrids. I won’t lie to you, the chances of survival are slim but you can take boats and sail to Europe. Tell them what is happening here. Once the rest of the world knows our plight, they will send help.
“This country has been plummeted into hell by the people in charge and they have told you there is nothing you can do about it because the rest of the world is in the same hell. That isn’t true. You can escape. But first you need to escape the camps. Head for the coast. Tell the world what has happened here.”
She flicked the switch and stood back from the control panel.
Johnny Drake looked at her. “Is that true?”
“You should know, you’re part of their system.”
He shook his head. “No, that isn’t true. Cheryl and I are prisoners here. We’ve been kept in this building since the outbreak. We don’t know what’s happening outside, only what they tell us and what we see through the windows.”
We heard tires screeching outside in the parking lot.
“They’re here,” Sam said. “We need to leave.”
“Wait,” I said, leaning forward to the microphone and flicking the switch. “Lucy, it’s Alex. I don’t know where you are or what happened at the marina. Meet me at…” I tried to think of a place I could mention on the radio without alerting the army to where I was going. “…At the place Mike and Elena died. In three days’ time.” I added, “Joe, if you can hear this, I’m going to find you somehow.”
I turned to Johnny. “Did that message go out?”
He nodded.
“We’re leaving,” Tanya said.
“Take us with you,” Johnny said, looking suddenly desperate. “Please.”
She hesitated for half a second before saying, “We’re going to have to fight our way out of here.”
Undead Rain (Book 2): Storm Page 12