British Zombie Breakout: Part Three

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British Zombie Breakout: Part Three Page 1

by Peter Salisbury




  British Zombie Breakout – Part Three: Zombies Go Global

  Peter Salisbury

  copyright Peter Salisbury December 2011

  Cover painting by Daphne Coleridge

  Smashwords Edition license notes:

  This edition is for your personal enjoyment only. No part of it may be copied, distributed or re-distributed by any means in any form, whether on paper, electronically or online without the express permission of the author.

  This story is entirely fictitious and any resemblance to any person or place is entirely coincidental and unintentional

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: The Last Of The Zombies?

  Chapter 2: Interruptions

  Chapter 3: Hold Up

  Chapter 4: Baggage

  Chapter 5: Where's Steve?

  Chapter 6 Brute Strength

  Chapter 7: Bad Boys

  Chapter 8: Weirdos

  Chapter 9: Decisions

  Chapter 10: If It Wasn't You, Who Was It?

  Chapter 11: Village of Death

  Chapter 12: Zombies Turn Up The Heat

  Chapter 13: Aftermath

  Chapter 14: Steve on TV

  Chapter 15: Rachel's Night

  Chapter 16: The Trial Part One

  Chapter 17: The Trial Part Two

  Chapter 18: Kilkorne Rebuilt

  More by Peter Salisbury

  Chapter 1: The Last Of The Zombies?

  The last of the captive zombies were so far gone they hadn't responded to the new vaccine. Five bodies were burnt in the Facility incinerator. A sample of fully infected zombie blood had been removed from the twisted corpses before they were destroyed and an extract placed in a single phial within a computerised safe. Only when the miserable wretches had been reduced to ash would the Zombie Alert Status be returned to zero.

  'Surely, Mason,' The Minister said through an encrypted line, 'keeping even one phial of the stuff means you're making the same mistake as your predecessor?'

  'Smith was careless with testing vaccines, not with how the sample was kept.'

  Professor Albert Mason put his feet up on the steel edge of his desk and swung back in his chair. He'd be glad to spend some time away from the Breathdeep Biological Research Facility. In a day or two it might actually be possible to get away from the stench of zombies, from having to maintain the strictest bio-hazard protocols, and at the same time assist the army in tracking down the zombies which had escaped.

  'So, Mason, my sources tell me the army picked up the fugitives from Kilkorne.'

  'That's right.'

  'How far did they get?'

  'They managed to stay ahead of the zombies, until the showdown at Stannicvale. That was the worst encounter yet. The commander in charge said he'd never seen such ferocity from the zombies. Blood, bits and slime everywhere. Not a single one was taken alive. The southern part of the town is the most horrendous source of infection.'

  'Where are the fugitives now?' the Minister said, ignoring the major issue of the clean-up operation that would be required after the zombie battle.

  'They'll be held in quarantine until I get them back here,' Mason lied. The fugitives' location was to remain a secret, especially from the Minister and they certainly weren't going to be kept at Breathdeep.

  'So they're infected?'

  'Too early to tell for sure.'

  'I thought your army commander friend had given orders to shoot on sight.'

  'I guess the guys who actually found them drew the line at women and kids.'

  'But you'll arrange some sort of infection incident after you get them at the Facility; put them in a cell that's not been cleaned out or something?'

  'That's not hard to arrange.'

  'You'd better not drop the ball on this one, Mason.' The Minister's tone was stern, displeased at the professor's evasion. 'Because right now the detector gadget is going into production at the factory I've acquired. This is going to be an absolute gold mine.'

  'The Zombie Detector Torch, ZDT.'

  'ZedDeeTee, or as the Americans will call it the ZeeDeeTee. Got quite a ring to it: they'll love that. I'll use it in the ads.'

  'I'd have liked to work on optimising it first.'

  That wasn't anywhere near truth; during the latest crisis Albert Mason had worked, eaten and slept at the Breathdeep Facility. In the past week, he'd done little else than try to stay one step ahead of the marauding zombies, while they bled, drooled and littered the countryside with their rotting body parts. In fact, he couldn't wait to get away for a night or two, so the last thing on his mind was improving the ZDT.

  'You said the thing worked better than anything you'd tried before.'

  'Always room for improvement.'

  'That's good to hear because in a few months' time, I can be selling the new, improved model and everyone who bought the first version will want to upgrade.' The Minister laughed, unpleasantly.

  'You're going world-wide on this, then?'

  'Absolutely. As soon as you confirm to me the fugitives are out of the way, I'll make an announcement to the world press.'

  'It would be inconvenient to have someone lodging a patent on your invention.'

  'Your invention, Mason; you simply didn't realise how much it was worth when you 'sold' me the rights.'

  'I'll keep you informed of what you need to know.' Albert Mason had no intention of passing any useful information to the Minister for Home Affairs. He was a ruthless, conniving man, who would rather see a teenager die of zombieism in a dirty cell, than have the lad who invented the ZDT get the recognition he deserved. Mason's plan was to have the escapees from Kilkorne recovered to safety and make sure the Minister was arrested before he had chance to even announce the existence of the detector torch.

  After ending the call with the Minister, the professor took a long draft of coffee from a plastic cup on his desk. It was no longer even warm, the coldness increasing its bitterness. He'd have drunk anything to remove the taste of the conversation with the Minister. Swinging his feet back down to the floor, he straightened his back and grasped the VHF radio from beside the computer keyboard. After an exchange of passwords, he was patched through to Commander Douglas Hodgeson.

  'Doug, how's it going?'

  'The fugitives are safe,' said the man who controlled anti-zombie operations across the south west of England. 'I personally checked them with the torch you gave me.'

  'And?' Mason was on the edge of his seat.

  'Clear, all of them. I'm sending you bloods of course.'

  Mason let out a heavy sigh. 'Thanks for keeping them safe.'

  'Priority old boy, 'til we get the Minister.'

  'You're taking the escapees up to London?'

  'And I'll have another unit take the Minister into custody.'

  'None of the men in that unit have any connection to him?'

  'Totally trustworthy. Don't worry.'

  'The guy's such a snake, a real "every man has his price" type.'

  'That's why I'm not leaving it up to the local boys.'

  'OK, well you need to move quickly. If he catches wind of any of this, he'll be gone.'

  'Like I say, don't worry. We're flying in; take off in five.'

  'Let me know as soon as it's done.'

  'Of course. Then we start on the clean-up.'

  'Your best bet will be at night, using the helicopters with the spray equipment and the high power UV lights to track down all the body parts and anything else the infectees have left.'

  Hodgeson laughed, 'You mean the zombies.'

  Chapter 2: Interruptions

  The ten fugitives from Kilkorne were stationed in a secure location in London. Their potenti
al to become overnight celebrities meant also that they had to be absolutely guaranteed clear of the zombie virus. It was quite a blow not to have been immediately reunited their families, however that could not happen while the Minister was still at large. Their anxious relatives were paid personal visits by security personnel who made it clear that although they were in no danger, the fugitives must remain in quarantine and that there must be no contact with them for several days. Still rampant zombie paranoia meant that any release of information to the press was prohibited.

  While the Commander posted guards on the fugitives, somehow the Minister managed to evade being taken into custody.

  'Doug have you got him yet?' Professor Mason asked in a routine update.

  'It's incredible, each time my men get close, he vanishes. It's as if he'd anticipated being on the run and been planning this for months.'

  'Sounds just like him.'

  'At least this cat and mouse game as put an end to any public appearances and interrupted his programme for the ZDT.'

  'Maybe so but I'd be trying to predict what other schemes he'll be planning to bring into play.'

  Since being placed in an inconspicuous but comfortable hotel, it was still unclear to the fugitives, whether they had been captured or rescued. After being on the run for several days, it felt weird being trapped in a building which was guarded round the clock, supposedly for their protection. They were permitted no phone calls or other means of communications to the outside world. Despite having been inoculated with the latest vaccine, they were to be kept there until the end of the isolation period. Each member of staff and all of the guards had been inoculated. Everyone kept a close watch on each other for early symptoms, including involuntary baring of teeth and snarling or tingling and loss of feeling in the limbs. No-one expected the fixed stare, drooling, biting or extreme aggression of the later stages which foreshadowed the gradual and prolonged decomposition of the body.

  After three days in the south London hotel, the fugitives neared the end of their quarantine period. It was seven in the evening and they were settling down to a final dinner before being released after breakfast the following morning.

  'Where's Steven?' Janet said, looking around the dining room. The escapees were taking their seats at a large oval table previously used by the hotel for weddings and birthday parties.

  'Steve's in the TV lounge,' Alex said.

  'Didn't he hear the dinner gong on the PA?'

  'Sure, I was right next to him but he wanted to see the last five minutes of some science programme we were watching.'

  'Well, I would be grateful…'

  'I'll get him at once, Mrs Reynolds.' Alex left the room as the waitress began serving starters.

  Five minutes later Alex hadn't returned.

  Janet sighed and put down her spoon. 'This is becoming just a little tiresome,' she said.

  Maisie glanced at her friends Fred and Rachel. 'Do you want us to, like, go and find them, Mrs Reynolds?'

  'I think we've got quite enough young folk wandering around, thank you!'

  'I'll go,' Sarah said, jumping up. 'My starter's a cold one anyway, you eat your soup.'

  Within a minute, Sarah's voice broke from Janet's walkie-talkie. 'They're not here, Janet. The place is in a bit of a state, actually.'

  Janet stood up, her napkin falling across her bowl, a dark stain of tomato soup spreading from one corner. She grabbed the walkie-talkie and squeezed the talk button. 'State?'

  'Coffee table turned over. Cups, cushions on the floor.'

  'Graham, call them on the PA, if you would.' Janet ran to the TV lounge along the ground floor corridor, past reception with its four armed guards and locked outer doors. One of the guards fell in behind her. Graham's voice crackled out of the hotel PA system and echoed around the empty hallways, ' Steven, Alex! Report in immediately please.' He repeated the message three times but there was no response.

  Back in the dining room, Bill looked across at his wife and rolled his eyes. 'What's the panic? We've all seen the way Steve and Alex look at each other the past couple of days.'

  Karen shrugged. She lifted Janet's napkin out of the soup and returned to her paté on toast.

  Janet found Sarah standing outside the TV lounge looking back and forth down the corridor. The room was in a state of disorder, not the way her son would have left it, or the responsible Alex.

  Taking in the scene with a practised eye, the guard spoke through his walkie-talkie to his men. 'Full alert!' Turning to Janet he said, 'Looks like we've had an incident, here.'

  'Incident?' Janet's voice was shrill.

  'Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry ma'am, it looks that way.'

  Dinner having been at least temporarily abandoned, Sarah and Janet joined Fred, Maisie, Rachel, Bill, Karen and Graham in the bar area next to the dining room.

  'Found them?' Graham said, walking towards the two women.

  Janet's body language said it all. Her only words were, 'Not yet.'

  'Why'd they go off like that with no warning?'

  'The sergeant says he thinks there was a fight of some sort in the TV lounge.'

  'Steve and Alex were, like, fighting and ran off?' Maisie said.

  'No, if they'd gone anywhere by themselves, they'd have at least let us know. The worrying part is the TV room being all messed up, it's making me think someone got in and took them.'

  'Got in past the soldiers?'

  'Kidnapped? No way!'

  'Who would do that?'

  'The press? Some paper trying for an exclusive story?'

  'No chance,' Bill said, 'Not since the hacking scandal in twenty-eleven.'

  The waitress appeared behind the counter where drinks were served. 'Is there anything we can do?' she said, referring to herself and the chef.

  'A small brandy, I think, dear,' Janet said, using the bar for support. 'Our apologies to the chef, by the way.'

  'Don't worry, Mrs Reynolds, he's staying on in case any of you want something later. The most important thing is they find your boy and the girl.'

  The soldiers initiated a room by room search. Steve and Alex were still missing when a sentry was found tasered next to an entrance onto the courtyard garden, the other side of which were tall steel gates that opened onto the street. The gates were found to be ajar, the chains sliced through with bolt-cutters, and there was no sign of either Steve or Alex, anywhere.

  The sergeant entered the bar with an update. 'Mrs. Reynolds?' he said, his eyes searching the dimly lit seating area.

  'Yes?'

  'I've called it in, ma'am, Commander Hodgeson himself has been informed.'

  'What now? You're going to find Alex and my Steven?'

  'Another unit is on its way. We've checked the surrounding area for a block in each direction.'

  'And?'

  'Nothing. We're going to sweep the building again, roof to basement with the second unit. You will be closely guarded at all times.'

  'That's not good enough, sergeant, someone has taken my son. There's been time for anything to happen to them.'

  The sergeant's radio bleeped indicating an encrypted transmission. He held up his hand to Janet and strode out of the bar. A moment later, he returned. 'They've broken into the Breathdeep Facility.'

  'My son? Ridiculous, he hasn't had time to get there!'

  'No, of course not. We assume other members of the same group which took him and the girl.'

  'Why the same group?' Graham said.

  'Timing, sir.'

  Chapter 3: Hold Up

  At Breathdeep Biological Research Facility, the professor and his chief assistant had the place to themselves, having put the lab in good order after the previous few days' stream of emergencies. The zombies were all either dead or cured, and the security staff all inoculated and sent home. It had taken days to ensure that the zombie pens were fully cleaned and disinfected, and that the automated vaccine preparation sequence was running smoothly. At the end of a long day checking data and making adjustment
s in the main lab, they were about to log out and lock up when all the alarms went off.

  The two scientists exchanged worried glances and each rushed to a monitoring station to check the cause. Curiously, the wailing siren silenced again within seconds. Neither Albert Mason nor the assistant had time to establish what was happening, before running footsteps sounded in the corridor. The professor was about to open the door when three armed men burst in.

  'What do you want?' Mason said, taking note of the automatic weapons on show and backing away until he bumped into a bench covered in an array of complex glassware. 'Why are you here?'

  'Zombie Virus.'

  A ski mask and black flight suit concealed all but the leader's heavy accent. He chambered a round into his automatic, pointing the muzzle at the assistant and repeating the demand.

  'Albert, these guys are serious.'

  'But this stuff is lethal!' The professor glanced nervously at the safe but didn't move. 'It wiped out half of England,' he said in an imploring tone. 'In the wrong hands, it…'

  The leader pushed his gun so hard under the assistant's chin, his head was thrown right back. At the same time one of the other men fired a single shot into the ceiling. For an instant, Mason expected to see his assistant's face explode.

  He sagged against the bench, knocking against some of the fragile equipment in the prototype vaccine production line. His jaw fell open but he was unable to speak as, with a shaking hand, he entered the code to unlock the safe.

  'Douglas?' Professor Mason's voice was not altogether level.

  'Albert, what's up?'

  'We've had visitors.'

  'They came for the virus?'

  'Doug, I feel such a coward, I more or less just let them take it.' His whole body shook at the thought of what had happened. 'If we didn't already have the vaccine in production, I'd have let them kill us rather than hand over the virus.'

  'Albert, you did the right thing. We're going to need you to sort this one out.'

  'Listen, how did you know they'd been here?'

 

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