Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Z-Payback

by Hatchett

  “And you will contact us if Mamba turns up?”

  “Of course,” Sully replied.

  “Agreed,” Issy confirmed. She knew there was little else she could glean from Sully at this point, but she’d put down a marker and getting those two out of here was an unexpected bonus.

  Issy reached inside her jacket and some of the bodyguards immediately raised their pistols. She held up one hand and slowly pulled a walkie-talkie out with the other. “You will be able to contact us with this,” she held up the walkie talkie before placing it on a side table. “It has been programmed and will only use the one frequency. If Mamba does turn up, then please call us and we’ll come and take him off your hands. Anytime, day or night. Who knows, there could be some sort of reward in it for you.”

  “I like rewards,” Sully noted.

  “Well, don’t get too excited, it won’t be of the flesh variety,” Issy advised. She slowly picked up her MP5 and slung it over her shoulder.

  Bear stood up and did the same, then they both stood there.

  Sully was momentarily puzzled that they weren’t leaving before remembering that he’d offered them the two people chained up. He flicked his hand and couple of the bodyguards walked over to the wall to release them. Both would have crumpled to the floor if the bodyguards hadn’t held them upright.

  “Pleasure doing business with you,” Issy remarked.

  “The pleasure was all mine,” Sully replied, but they could tell from his tone that it was anything but.

  Hakan led Issy and Bear towards the exit while the two bodyguards almost carried the two bodies behind them.

  At the exit, the bodyguards passed the bodies into the waiting arms of two of the soldiers, then Hakan led the whole party back to their helicopter without saying a word. There were still hundreds of people all around, staring at them with undisguised animosity.

  “Wouldn’t want to be here after dark,” Bear muttered under his breath.

  “What? A big, hard man like yourself?” Issy mocked.

  The pilot saw the group coming and turned on the engine. They clambered into the back and he was surprised to see a naked male and female being hauled in as well.

  As soon as he could, the pilot took off and headed back to Heathrow, the other three heli’s forming up beside him.

  In the back, Issy and Bear tried to give the injured pair some water. Their lips were cracked, and they seemed extremely dehydrated, but much of the water spilled from their mouths and down their chins. The small amount they did take on board seemed to revive them a little and Issy heard a croaky ‘thank you’ from the girl. Both would be taken straight to medical as soon as they got back.

  *****

  “What did you think of that?” Sully asked when Hakan returned.

  “I was surprised you let them take the boy and girl,” Hakan replied.

  “Not that!” Sully shouted, getting himself worked up. “I meant the rest of it and them looking for that bastard Mamba.”

  “I think they’re powerful enemies and you should steer well clear of Mamba,” Hakan advised.

  “That fucking Mamba is a bloody nightmare, a liability. Do not let him back in here,” Sully ordered. “Ever.”

  62

  Day 14 – 16:00

  The Fox, Clerkenwell Road

  Mamba entered the Fox to find Temel, Umit, Emre, Faruk, Ismet, Khalid and Mesut already there, sitting around tables lit with the battery-operated lanterns and enjoying some drinks and some snacks.

  They were all grinning in Mamba’s direction as he approached them, obviously pleased with what they had accomplished. Mamba dropped his gear, went to the bar to help himself to a bottle of beer and returned to the table.

  “Well?” Mamba asked, “how’d it go?” He could tell they couldn’t wait to tell him their war stories.

  Temel was about to speak when Ahmed came into the pub through the back door and Ayla and Basir came through the front.

  The group waited while the new arrivals sorted themselves out before beginning their stories.

  “Umit, Emre, Faruk and I were successful in planting our bombs along the Southern Perimeter fence as instructed,” Temel advised with a beaming smile. “Although we didn’t see them go off, we heard them as we got away.”

  “That’s great Temel,” Mamba advised, “but two of your bombs didn’t go off.”

  The smile dropped from Temel’s face and he looked accusingly around at his team members. “W-We did everything we were asked,” he stuttered.

  “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Mamba advised, “we created enough problems. It’s jus’ a shame we didn’t have more people and more weapons, then we could’ve got into the airport and the buildin’s, killed ‘em all and taken all their weapons.”

  Temel was more than happy to get off the subject of the unexploding bombs and agreed wholeheartedly with Mamba’s assertions.

  “What ‘bout ya?” Mamba asked Ismet.

  “Khalid, Mesut and I planted bombs at the Tower and the estate as instructed. Khalid stayed near the Tower to make sure they went off, while Mesut and I planted the bombs at the estate,” Ismet explained.

  “And?” Mamba asked, not wanting the story to go on all night. He’d made Ayla some promises which he intended to keep.

  “And all the bombs went off at each location as planned,” Ismet confirmed.

  “Yes,” Khalid started, “the line of vehicles you told us about around the Tower are no longer there,” he said, proudly. “The zombies are now everywhere and the ones next to the wall have all burnt.”

  Mamba was puzzled. “What do ya mean ‘the ones next to the wall were all burnt’?”

  “The fire swept through all the zombies and burnt them all,” Khalid replied, his big smile beginning to falter as it he’d done something wrong.

  Mamba frowned and thought about it. He wasn’t unduly worried as he knew the moat would fill up with new specimens in no time at all. In fact, it would be better if the moat was clear as it would make access easier. Still, never mind. “You did good Khalid,” Mamba advised, and the smile on Khalid’s face lit up again.

  “We saved the best to last,” Ismet advised.

  “How’s that then?” Mamba asked.

  “Well, we planted the bombs at the estate and when they went off, the building just collapsed. You should’ve seen it. Just like when they demolish those high-rise buildings. Like Fred Dibnah. Boom! Dust everywhere.”

  Mamba looked at Ahmed who was staring back at him with concern in his eyes.

  “Who the fuck is Fred Dibnah?” Mamba asked, turning back to face Ismet.

  “Some old geezer I saw on TV dropping these big, tall chimneys,” Ismet advised, “only we made a much bigger boom,” he added, waving his arms around for emphasis.

  “What happened to the people?” Mamba asked.

  “Some helicopters came and managed to save a lot of people off the roof. But some went down with the building. The helicopter came back to pick them up, but the building fell before they could get on it.”

  “How many?” Mamba asked.

  “We couldn’t tell, from the ground,” Ismet advised.

  Mamba closed his eyes. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He wanted to scare everyone and accepted that the odd person might get killed or turned, but loads falling to their death as the building collapsed? That definitely wasn’t part of the script. For the most part, they were his people. It was supposed to distract the people in Heathrow, like a decoy, the same as the Tower. Mamba wanted to see how they’d react. “How many bombs did ya use at the estate?”

  “Four,” Ismet confirmed, and Mamba knew from personal experience just how powerful those bombs were. If he’d known before, he’d have just told them to blow the barrier across the horseshoe. But it was too late for that now and life went on, well, for some it did.

  “Well done, guys, good job,” Mamba commended them with a smile which didn’t reach his eyes. “Now we can tell Sully about our success and next time we can atta
ck them properly.”

  Mamba rose and went to the bar. Ahmed also got to his feet and quickly followed him.

  “Ya jus’ killed a load of our people!” Ahmed accused him.

  “I didn’t mean to,” Mamba replied. “Ya know that. How was I supposed to know how powerful those fuckin’ bombs are?”

  “You’ve gone too far Mamba. Our only home has been demolished and we’ve probably lost loads of friends and family.”

  “Don’t ya think I fuckin’ know that!” Mamba almost shouted, grabbing Ahmed’s shirt front before releasing it and slumping onto the bar.

  “What now?” Ahmed asked.

  “Now we speak to Sully,” Mamba replied. He picked up his beer and walked over to Ayla.

  “I’ve got ya a present,” Ayla advised.

  “Oh yeah?” Mamba replied, “and what’s that then?”

  “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you,” Ayla replied scornfully, as she dug in her rucksack. She pulled out a small parcel wrapped in a brown paper bag and handed it to Mamba.

  Mamba was curious. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him a present. Must have been when he was a kid he supposed, but even then, presents were hard to come by. If you wanted something, you just took it. He opened the bag a pulled out a copy of ‘The Good Pub Guide 2016’.

  “It’s still out of date, but a lot more recent than your copy,” Ayla explained. “I couldn’t find a more recent copy.”

  “Where’d ya get it?” Mamba asked, smiling.

  “Some shop on the way here,” Ayla advised.

  “I guess I should thank ya properly, and I still owe ya a promise,” Mamba advised as he took her hand, pulled her out of the chair and headed towards the stairs.

  He didn’t notice Ahmed sitting in the far corner of the pub on his own, staring at his bottle of beer with tears running down his face.

  63

  Day 14 – 17:30

  Hilton Hotel, Heathrow

  Issy sat with some of the Leaders in the lounge bar, nursing a large coke.

  “I’ve seen the footage of your visit to meet that Suleiman,” Jack advised. “Yet another animal.”

  “Yeah, funny how the end of the world kills off the good and leaves the bad to prosper. Oh, and he’s known as Sully,” Issy replied.

  “We’re not all that bad,” Andy pointed out.

  “No, we’re not Cowboy,” Issy agreed, “it just seems like it sometimes. There doesn’t seem to be any justice. Good people like Samata die, yet thugs like Mamba and Sully survive.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s the law of the jungle,” Bear pointed out, “and it’ll probably get worse before it gets better. But, don’t be so down on yourself. All of us have managed to save a lot of good people. Look at Daniel saving Shauna, Isaac, Zak, Grace, Nelson. This list goes on and on.”

  “Plus, the two you saved today,” Gina added. “How’re they doing anyway?” she asked.

  “They’re gonna be OK,” Issy confirmed. “They may have a few nightmares and they may have some mental issues, but physically they should be fine in a few weeks, so we’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Who are they and what happened to them?” Bear asked.

  “I didn’t get much from them before they were sedated, but Jenny – that’s the young woman’s name – told me that Mamba had picked them up from a supermarket, killed all the people they were with, raped her then took her and her brother - his name is Daryl - to Sully and just handed them over as sex slaves.”

  “Is there nothing that bastard wouldn’t do?” Gina asked.

  “Doesn’t look like it, especially as he’s willing to mass murder his own people,” Issy advised. “We really need to find him quickly and put him out of everyone’s misery.”

  “Any ideas?” Bear asked.

  “I’m working on it,” Issy advised, “but please feel free to chip in.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” Gina advised. “Let me tell you what I think.”

  64

  Day 14 – 18:00

  The Fox, Clerkenwell Road

  Mamba and Ayla returned to the bar to find the Turks pissed out of their heads, talking loudly and still whooping and hollering at their earlier achievements.

  Mamba looked around to see where Ahmed was, and it took a few seconds before he found him sitting in the dark corner on his own. He wandered over as Ayla went to join the others.

  “How’s it goin’, bro?” Mamba asked, as he sat down. He could tell Ahmed wasn’t a happy bunny.

  “How’d ya think, Mamba? We’ve fuckin’ killed a load of our people!”

  “I know, bro. It wasn’t meant to happen, and I feel real bad ‘bout it, but what can we do?”

  “Thinkin’ ‘bout ‘em as yer were shaggin’ was ya?”

  “Jus’ tryin’ to take my mind off it, man.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Did what work?”

  “Did it take yer fuckin’ mind off it?” Ahmed almost shouted.

  “For a bit, but thanks for remindin’ me.” Mamba said quietly.

  Mamba sat there for a few minutes watching the Turks. He then got to his feet, helped himself to a bottle of beer from the bar and walked over to them.

  “You lot need to get back home and tell Sully what’s happened.”

  “What? Now?” Temel asked, looking confused.

  “Of course, now,” Mamba replied. “Come on, get your stuff together. Chop chop!”

  The banter died down and the Turks were looking at Mamba as if he was from another planet. They weren’t sure if he meant it, but one look at his face told them that he did.

  Temel was the first to polish off the remainder of his drink and get out of his chair to go looking for his rucksack. He was swiftly followed by the rest.

  “I assume I’m staying?” Ayla suggested with a grin.

  Mamba just nodded and continued to watch the Turks getting ready to depart. Mesut fell over as he reached for his rucksack and the rest of them started laughing and insulting him.

  “Do you think it’s a good idea for them to go now?” Ayla asked. “I’m not sure they’re in a fit state.”

  “That’s their problem,” Mamba stated, still watching the men carefully.

  There was little chance that any of them could attack him in their current state, assuming they really were pissed and not just putting it on, but he’d had a niggling feeling since the outset that Sully might try and stitch him up at some point. Getting one of these arseholes to stab him when he wasn’t ready would be just the sort of lowlife act for which Sully was well known. Well, not Mamba, buddy! Not fuckin’ Mamba! Far too clever…and a bit paranoid, but Mamba didn’t like to dwell on the last point too much.

  As he focused back on the group, he noticed that Ahmed had moved so that he was within striking distance, should the need arise. ‘Good ‘ol Ahmed still had his head screwed on’, Mamba thought, ‘and he was obviously thinking the same thing’. This was the most likely time for any rebellion amongst the rank and file.

  “You all betta go out through the garden and top up the blood and guts,” Mamba suggested, once they all looked ready to depart.

  The Turks sobered up a bit at the prospect of going back outside and getting dirty but headed towards the garden nevertheless.

  “Good luck,” Mamba said as the last one left the premises and he quickly closed the patio door and locked it. He then went to the front door and threw the bolts across at both the top and the bottom.

  When he turned back, he saw that Ahmed had moved near to Ayla, and she was staring at him suspiciously.

  “What was that all about?” she asked, with a frown.

  “What was what all ‘bout?”

  “Here we go again,” Ayla noted, shaking her head in annoyance. “Question answered by another question. Why have you locked the doors?”

  “You can never be too careful,” Mamba replied.

  “Really? You think the zombies have worked out how to turn a door handle?” she asked sa
rcastically.

  “They might do,” Mamba agreed as he walked past her to the bar to get himself another beer and hopefully diffuse the situation. “Anyone else want one?”

  “I’ll have one,” Ahmed confirmed.

  Ayla didn’t respond, but when Mamba looked in her direction, she nodded her head.

  Mamba got the beers and returned the table.

  “You think they were going to try something,” Ayla accused.

  OK, the situation wasn’t diffused.

  “It might’ve crossed my mind,” Mamba acknowledged.

  “You’re paranoid,” Ayla accused him.

  “Yeah, I’ve been called that from time to time, although I prefer ‘careful’,” Mamba replied

  “How do you know I wasn’t sent to kill you?”

  “I don’t.”

  “That’s great, thanks.” Ayla sat back in her seat with a hurt and disappointed look on her face.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking their beer and gathering their thoughts.

  Eventually Mamba said, “I thought Sully might try and double-cross me.”

  “I worked that one out for myself,” Ayla replied.

  “Ahmed thought so too, didn’t ya Ahmed?” Mamba asked, looking for support.

  Ahmed nodded his head in confirmation.

  “You’re both as bad as each other,” Ayla accused them. “You don’t trust anyone except yourselves.”

  “That’s why we’re still alive,” Mamba pointed out.

  “So, what now?” Ayla asked.

  “Now we sleep and tomorrow ya can visit yer Dad.”

  65

  Day 15 – 07:00

  Heathrow Terminal 3

  “Alright, listen up!” Issy ordered. “Time to move out.”

  Issy, Gina, Bear, Irish and forty well-armed soldiers were grouped together on Level 2 of Terminal 3. The Leaders watched as the soldiers split into their four teams; Alpha, Bravo, Charlie and Delta, and started heading in line towards the jetway which would take them down to the apron where a Chinook was warming up and waiting for them to board.