The Death in a Northern Town Trilogy (Books 1-3): Welcome To Dead Town

by Peter Mckeirnon

  Nick had surmised that when secure, he could live quite comfortably using the bounty of food and drink gathered from the many apartments within the building. What he hadn’t counted on was witnessing the horrible death of the girl’s father. Knowing they would be next, he couldn’t let them suffer the same fate. He had to do something and do something he did.

  Now he had a young girl and a baby to care for but for the moment that had to wait. He had to clear the building and his plan to do this was simple. Sit patiently and wait for the zombies to come to him.

  Nick took a long drink of Jack Daniels. Sure it was close to 10am but it was the end of days. Time was irrelevant now and if he was going to kill every infected resident in the building, he wanted to be buzzed.

  As the warm bourbon slid down his throat, he heard a shuffling out in the hallway. Something was approaching and Nick was ready.

  --------------------

  It had been a strange morning for the staff at LA Tattoo. Fran had been waiting on a full day sitting that was now almost an hour late and looking like a no show, Katie was making the most of the quiet time to draw up a new design and Kris was ready to throw the shop’s laptop out of the window such was his frustration at being unable to establish an internet connection. He had tried everything. System reboots, router reboots, disconnecting then reconnecting cables but nothing had worked. What was more frustrating was his mobile phone also had no internet connection, denying him any access to LA Tattoo’s Facebook page.

  Katie sat quietly, making good use of her time to draw up fresh tattoo designs.

  “Fran, Katie, check your phone, can you get on Facebook?” Kris called from the shop reception to the tattoo studio.

  “No,” came Fran and Katie’s simultaneous response.

  Unbeknown to Kris, neither of them had checked their phones. Katie’s attention belonged to a half sleeve skull motif design and Fran was reading his Kindle. Should they have done so, their answer would nevertheless have been the same.

  The frustration within Kris was close to boiling point. It was 10am, the shop was empty and due to the lack of internet, he had not been able to get anything done. It was time for a breakfast run.

  “I’m going out for food, do you two want anything?” Kris asked, poking his head through the door to the studio.

  “No thanks,” Katie replied still engrossed in her design work.

  “Are you going to Greggs? Get us a couple of sausage rolls, it’s hungry work being a tattooist,” Fran replied, lifting his head out of his Kindle.

  “Hungry work? All you’ve done is read your book since you came in. What are you reading anyway?” asked Kris.

  “It’s a horror, proper sick, twisted shit. It’s about a bloke who kills people then has a wank over a clock. Alarm clocks, carriage clocks, Grandfather clocks… You name a clock and this bloke has wanked over it. It’s really good. You can read it after me if you want to?” Fran replied.

  “I think I’ll pass, but thanks for the offer. Won’t be long.” Kris said, grabbing his coat then exiting the shop.

  Kris walked out on to Regent Street and it struck him instantly how quiet it was. Although not an overly busy area, Regent Street was home to a sandwich bar, several second hand shops, a takeaway, a florist and a pet shop amongst others. This was strange for 10am on a Monday morning but nothing about that morning was making much sense to him. Maybe paying his regular visit to the girls at Greggs the Bakers would restore some normality.

  Kris was on good terms with all of the workers in Runcorn Old Town. Being a small shopping area, many of the businesses looked out for and supported each other. He particularly had a good relationship with the girls from Greggs due to Fran’s love of sausage rolls.

  He turned onto Church Street, all the while tapping away on his phone trying to get access to the internet. He was so preoccupied he didn’t notice the woman lying in the doorway of Aladdin’s Pizza, being eaten by two small children and he didn’t notice the pet shop and the zombie stood in the window, devouring a rabbit.

  Church Street was the main shopping area in Runcorn Old Town but it had gradually depleted over recent years. This was partly due to the Runcorn housing development of the 1970s which created the ‘New Town’ area and the indoor Runcorn Shopping Centre, formally named Runcorn Shopping City, and more recently, the rising shop rents and the building of the new Trident Retail Park. All of this had almost destroyed Runcorn’s original town centre which now consisted of mostly greeting card shops and take away joints.

  Lifting his head from his phone, he observed how deserted the street appeared. Several abandoned cars littered the street whilst every shop was closed including Greggs and all he could think of was how pissed Fran was going to be when he didn’t return with his sausage rolls.

  Kris wasn’t alone on the street. Beyond the first of the abandoned cars, banging on the window of Greggs were two women and he thought it best if he approached them to see if he could find out what was going on.

  Crossing the street, a speeding red Ford Fiesta almost took his life when it screamed past, missing him by an inch before turning onto Regent Street.

  --------------------

  “Katie I’m bored,” Fran complained, throwing his Kindle down hard on the empty leather tattooing chair. “That chair should have someone sat in it getting a tattoo. If I don’t inflict pain on someone soon I’m going to explode.”

  BANG!

  Fran and Katie turned to face the doorway leading to the reception area.

  “It’s open,” Fran shouted.

  BANG!

  “I said it’s open!” Fran shouted again, louder this time.

  BANG!

  “Fuck me, are they deaf or something?” he cursed, rising from the comfort of his seat and entering the reception area to answer the shop door.

  He was greeted by the sight of two young children. A boy and a girl. The boy was chewing on a decapitated finger and the girl, with her once long and beautiful hair now matted and knotted, held in her left hand a gore stained teddy bear. In her right hand, she held the dismembered head of a woman and was using it to bang against the shop door.

  “Fucking hell, that’s awesome! Katie come and have a look at what these kids have done,” Fran said with amazement, believing what he was witnessing to be an elaborate prank.

  “Jesus Christ Fran! You could have warned me before I walked in!” Katie screamed. “It looks so real.”

  “I know it’s ace! Well done kids, great job,” he proclaimed, clapping his hands in approval.

  Just then, the owner of the nearby pet store appeared at the window, ripping into the carcass of a rabbit and shovelling it into his mouth greedily.

  “Shit!” Fran shouted, taken by surprise at his appearance. “Now that is good. That is very good. Am I missing something? Is there some kind of horror carnival going on in the Old Town that I don’t know about?”

  “Fran I think that’s real” Katie added, moving closer to the window for a better look.

  “Get fucked that’s not real, it can’t be?” he replied, joining her for a closer inspection.

  Fran looked beyond the man, to the shop opposite. In the doorway stood another man. The right side of his face was missing flesh from the jaw line to lower neck, revealing a thick layer of fatty tissue and blood vessels.

  The man fixed his gaze on Fran and slowly stumbled forward into the road. Had he been alive, he would have noticed the speeding red Ford Fiesta before it ploughed into him, launching his body forward through the air, landing in a heap 10ft along the road.

  The man in the red Ford Fiesta turned his head towards Fran and Katie and screamed “Lock the door!” Then he revved the engine and drove over the twisted body of the man in the road, squashing his head with the front and then back wheels before speeding away.

  “Where the fuck are the keys?” Fran asked Katie in a panic.

  “Kris has them,” she replied but not before swallowing the bile that had gathered in her mouth.
>
  “How did I know you were going to say that?” he replied.

  --------------------

  The closer Kris came to the women the more familiar they were. He recognised the pair as employees of Greggs but what was wrong with their faces? Looking at their pale, gaunt features he assumed they had both been drinking heavily the night before and turned up for work late and still intoxicated.

  “Morning girls, heavy night on the town last night was it? So what’s up then? Won’t the boss let you in till you have sobered up? Get a few sausage rolls down your neck, that’ll sort you out, just make sure you leave a few for Fran,” he said.

  Upon hearing his voice, they moved their attention from the window and turned to face him, giving a full view of their grey skin, dark sunken eyes and saliva dripping mouths.

  “Holy shit, how much did you have to drink last night?” Kris asked.

  The girls didn’t respond but began stumbling towards him, mouths open and teeth exposed.

  Inside Greggs, the shop manager appeared at the window, her right hand applying pressure to an open wound on her neck and her face filled with fear and drained of colour. She looked at Kris and mouthed the word…

  “Run!”

  Then she projectile vomited over the window, covering the sausage rolls, pasties and sticky buns that were on display.

  “Fucking gross!” he grimaced trying to stop his own spew from leaving his mouth.

  Why had she told him to run and how was he going to explain to Fran why he didn’t have his sausage rolls were two of the three thoughts circulating around his mind. The other and more important thought was what the hell was he going to do with the approaching women? ‘Nothing’ was his conclusion and he thought it best to return to LA Tattoo as quickly as possible.

  Turning from the ‘intoxicated’ pair, he looked across the road to the other bakery on Church Street, the Devonshire Bakery and in particular, one of its employees who was stood behind the counter, throwing meat pies, pasties, breads and whatever else he could get his hands on at a would be attacker that was trying to grab them.

  Kris purposefully crossed the street with the intention of helping the man and he screamed at the attacker to leave him alone.

  His yell had distracted the attacker just enough to give the man time to grab a bread knife and dive over the counter, driving it through his foe’s head, killing him instantly.

  Kris felt his entire body spasm as he watched Ashley’s attack. From his position he had a perfect view and shivered at the sight of the bread knife poking out of the back of Lewis’ head.

  “Run!” Ashley shouted, then through the door behind him staggered another of his colleagues, Leanne Done.

  Like Lewis, Leanne’s face was drained of colour with spittle dripping from her mouth. Ashley placed his foot on Lewis’s chest and pulled the knife free from his head.

  “Run!” Ashley again shouted then he dove over the counter, repeatedly stabbing Leanne in the head with the bread knife.

  Kris looked behind him to see the women from Greggs were almost within touching distance and beyond them more were approaching. He looked ahead and the scene was worse than behind him. There were over thirty crazed people stumbling his way.

  He couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. What had happened to these people? Why were they turning violent? The only thing he knew for sure was he was quickly becoming surrounded and he needed to move, and move fast.

  The only way out that appeared to be lunatic free was Kings Street, which would take him past Churchill Mansions and down onto Mersey Road and the embankment which overlooked the Manchester Ship Canal and River Mersey. It would mean a detour but at least it would take him out of harm’s way.

  --------------------

  The zombies continued to hungrily gnash their teeth, pressing their quickly decaying hands up against the door and window of LA Tattoo. Fran and Katie had been working hard to secure the shop, piling tables and chairs up against the door and window, just in case one of the undead figured out how to turn a door handle.

  “Now what do we do?” Katie asked.

  “Back door’s locked, we’ve secured the front as much as we can, the only thing we can do now is wait and hope that help arrives, or at least someone who can tell us what the fuck is going on,” Fran replied.

  CRASH!

  There was a loud clattering noise coming from the tattoo studio above. The studio upstairs was run by a colleague of theirs named Shaun and neither Fran nor Katie believed him to be in work that day.

  “Shaun?” Fran shouted.

  The response came by way of another clattering sound.

  “That sounded like the tattooing chair being knocked over. Did you see him come in this morning? I didn’t.” Katie asked of Fran who shook his head in response, not taking his eyes from the ceiling.

  “Follow me,” he said to Katie, who followed him back into the studio.

  On the wall hung two decorative Samurai swords. Fran removed them and handed one to Katie.

  Removing the swords from their sheaths a cloud of dust expelled into the air, filling Fran’s mouth and nose, causing him to cough repeatedly.

  They were both examining the rusted blunt blades when they heard a harrowing groan and heavy footsteps on the stairway leading from the studio upstairs.

  “Whoever it is, I mean Shaun or whoever, if they look like those gross fuckers outside, stab the bastard!” Fran said to Katie who nervously nodded in agreement.

  --------------------

  Kris had made it to Kings Street without any altercations. Whatever had happened to these people, coordination and speed were no longer a part of their skill set.

  Directly in front of him stood Churchill Mansions. To the side of the building lay the path to Mersey Road. He surmised that he could use this route to navigate his way back to LA Tattoo and hopefully avoid any crazies.

  Walking next to Churchill Mansions, he felt a gust of wind followed by a loud and disgusting squelch and he suddenly felt wet from the waist down.

  Directly to his left, not 5ft away, a dead man lay splattered on the ground.

  “Sorry about that, but you should really watch where you’re walking.”

  Kris took a few steps backwards and looked up. From a balcony on the top floor of Churchill Mansions a man dressed in black clutching a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels could be seen peering down at him. It was Nick Fieldsend.

  “Hello there! How’s it going? Lovely day isn’t it,” Nick shouted down.

  “Are you fucking crazy? What are you doing?” Kris yelled.

  “Just a second…” Nick replied before disappearing from the balcony.

  Kris looked at his clothes. From the waist down he was covered in blood and ooze.

  THWARP!

  Another body hit the ground, again close to where Kris was standing, missing him by inches.

  “Watch out!” Nick shouted.

  “You were supposed to say that before you threw the guy from the balcony you crazy bastard!” Kris screamed in anger.

  “Oh yeah, ha ha!” Nick replied, taking a large chug on his bottle of Jack Daniels.

  “That first guy, he lived in the flat next to my Nan. She lent him her humidifier and he never gave it her back. Got it back now though haven’t I you dead shit! The other guy, well he lived along the hall, the noisy bastard. Always playing crappy dance music, drove my Nan insane. Bootcha, bootcha, bootcha… All fucking night and day! Not anymore!” Nick shouted, taking another swig of Jack Daniels.

  “My name is Nick by the way, nice to meet you. Oh and look out below!” Nick continued before throwing another body from the balcony.

  Kris heeded the warning and leapt out of the way as the dead woman’s body hurtled to the ground.

  “What the fuck are you doing man? Why are you killing these people, what’s wrong with you?” Kris screamed.

  “They were already dead. They all are,” Nick replied, pointing to the hoard slowly shuffling towards Kris from C
hurch Street.

  “What are you talking about? How the hell can they be dead?” Kris asked.

  “You see that woman splattered on the ground next to you? Now she was actually a really nice lady, until she died, came back and tried to eat me. Good job I had a walking stick handy and smashed her skull before she had chance to chow down,” Nick said.

  “You’re not making any sense,” Kris cried, exasperated.

  “Everyone is dead. You see those people stumbling towards you? Dead - all of them. It’s the end of the world my friend. People have been getting sick, dying then coming back to eat your BRAINS! I’m talking zombies fella! The undead, walkers, shufflers, deaders or whatever you want to call them. Hang on a second…” Nick said, disappearing from the balcony.

  Kris looked at the dead that surrounded him, then towards Church Street and the gathering hoard that slowly approached. Even when faced with the living dead, all Kris could think of was how angry Fran was going to be when he returned without his sausage rolls.

  “Hey! What’s your name?” A returning Nick shouted from the balcony.

  “It’s Kris,” came the reply.

  “Nice to meet you Kris. I’ve got a gift for you, something to help you on your way. Hang on a second…” said Nick, again disappearing from view.

  Could it be true? Was the lunatic right? Was the recently dead coming back to life?

  “Going down!” Nick shouted as he hurled another body over the balcony.

  Kris watched as the fattest man he had ever seen plummeted towards him. He quickly jumped out of the way before the zombie landed face down on the pavement next to him.

  Again he found his lower body sprayed with blood. The large bloated bulk of the man Nick threw from the balcony had exploded on impact like a human water balloon, showering him in warm guts.