The Undead_Day 22

by R. R. Haywood

  ‘It’s not a request.’

  Danny took the bottle to drink, glugging deep as Blowers told him to finish it.

  Blowers then gave him a rucksack and a pair of new boots and told him to go round to the front of the Saxon to get washed and changed. He told him to wash properly and to use the wipes in the bag. Everything was matter of fact, firm and direct.

  He did as he was told and felt stupid and self-conscious walking back to the others when he finished. Like he was emulating them or copying, or pretending to be a soldier but no one batted an eyelid at him.

  ‘Better?’

  Danny looked up to the muscular young black man staring at him. ‘Yes, thank you, Sir.’

  ‘I’m Maddox,’ Maddox said casually. ‘You had a drink?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Drink more, keep drinking.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘You’s alright?’

  Another voice to his side. The young Arabic looking lad. ‘Yes, thank you.’

  ‘Mo Mo innit.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘I am,’ Mo said with a grin. ‘You’s Danny yeah?’

  ‘Yeah…Danny.’

  ‘Feels harsh now bruv, but we went through some shit the last day or two, you get me? They's good people though aren’t they Mads?’

  ‘If you say so, Mo.’

  ‘Don’t be a cunt, Mads.’

  ‘They’re good people, they won’t hurt you,’ Maddox said, tutting at Mo. ‘Might get you killed though,’ he muttered under his breath.

  ‘That’s Mr Howie,’ Mo said, pointing at Howie. ‘He’s the boss. That’s Paula, she sorts us out for clothes and food and like…all the stuff that Mr Howie doesn’t do. Marcy, that’s the fit one, she’s the boss’s woman, you get me? She’s smart and funny…’

  ‘Genocidal.’

  ‘Fuck off, Mads.’

  ‘Joking,’ Maddox muttered, offering a quick grim smile.

  ‘Nick, he’s awesome. Fix anything. Cookey, he’s funny as fuck but not right now cos one of our crew got killed…Blowers is in charge of our team, hard as nails. You get me? He’s unkillable…listen to him and do what he says. Clarence is the big hench one, he’s like the boss’s right-hand man…that’s Dave who I work with…he’s autistic so he don’t read social situations well. Roy is the medic and Reggie is like the brains. Charlie is on the horse, she’s smart as fuck but her best mate Blinky was shot…so she’s quiet yeah?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah sure…sorry for your loss.’

  ‘The dog is called Meredith…don’t touch her if she’s got anything in her mouth.’

  ‘Like a toy?’

  ‘Nah, like an arm or a dick.’

  Danny blinked, trying to see if Mo was joking or not but he seemed serious.

  ‘So you’s staying with us then?’

  ‘I want to fight,’ Danny said earnestly.

  ‘You’s a fool, bruv,’ Maddox said, slipping into the same street language as Mo.

  ‘I was bit…Mr Howie said…’

  ‘We’s immune or…’ Mo goes to say.

  ‘Mo,’ Maddox cuts in with a warning look, shaking his head. ‘Not your place to say. Leave it for Howie or someone else.’

  ‘I didn’t turn into one of them,’ Danny said. ‘Got me in the ankle…I stabbed him but he wouldn’t die.’

  ‘Throat or head innit,’ Mo said, matter of fact. ‘They don’t feel pain and they don’t bleed like normal people.’

  ‘Right, done,’ Howie called out, striding with the others from the new van. ‘Everyone gather in…Charlie!’

  ‘Coming.’

  ‘Everyone here?’ Howie asked, looking around. ‘Danny, sorry to put you on the spot but…’ he stopped talking, looking up to a flutter of something moving above their heads. Something small and delicate. A flash of blue as it sunk down, flapping silently to land on Danny’s shoulder to rest the beautiful electric blue wings ringed with white and black.

  ‘We saw that,’ Marcy said. ‘Last night, Howie…’

  ‘Yeah we did,’ he said quietly as everyone stared at it.

  ‘Reggie, what is it?’ Marcy asked.

  ‘Adonis Blue butterfly,’ Reginald said, as captivated as everyone else.

  ‘I’ve never seen one like that before,’ Paula said.

  ‘That is because they are exceptionally rare,’ Reginald replied as Danny turned his head, trying to see the delicate creature resting on his shoulder.

  ‘So pretty’ Marcy said, moving closer to hold her finger out in front of the insect, moving a fraction at a time for it to lift first one leg then the rest as it transferred from Danny to her hand and there followed a surreal moment of two creatures so resplendent and perfect in form and design staring at each other before the butterfly flapped those gorgeous wings and took off back into the thermals. Flying away as everyone turned to watch it.

  ‘Er so yeah, Danny,’ Howie said, picking up his earlier train of thought. ‘You can either stay with us or head for the fort…’

  ‘I want to fight, Sir.’

  ‘Actually, that’s not your only choice at all. You can do what you want. You can go now or whatever, anybody here can leave when they want…’

  ‘I want to fight, Sir.’

  ‘You got bit?’ Howie asked.

  ‘Yes, Sir. On the ankle, Sir.’

  ‘I saw it, definite bite mark,’ Roy said.

  ‘Okay,’ Howie said. ‘The dog hasn’t eaten him so he’s either like Maddox or like us…we’ll talk about that later. For now, if you’re staying with us then you follow orders, got it?’

  ‘Mr Howie,’ Blowers said, shooting a look at Danny as Charlie cleared her throat, clearly about to speak out too.

  ‘We’ll discuss it later,’ Howie said, looking around at everyone.

  ‘Boss,’ Blowers said, nodding once.

  ‘New van is ready…we need radios, a drone…axes and all the shit we lost…that’s the plan for today…Maddox, I want you in the new van guarding Reginald. That’s your primary role from now on. Anyone goes near him that you’re unsure of then deal with it. You’re smart enough to work that out…’

  Maddox frowned, slightly taken aback at the change then realising very quickly that it meant he didn’t have to sit in the back of the oven-like Saxon arguing with Blowers. ‘On it,’ he said firmly, earning looks from everyone. ‘That wasn’t sarcastic.’

  ‘Sounded sarcastic,’ Marcy said.

  ‘Did a bit,’ Blowers said.

  ‘Wasn’t,’ Maddox said.

  ‘I’d prefer to travel with Jess…’ Charlie said. ‘So I can respond quickly…’

  ‘Mate, don’t do that,’ Cookey said but Charlie ignored him and stared at Howie.

  ‘No. In with the rest of us,’ Howie said.

  ‘Boss,’ Charlie said quietly.

  ‘Roy, back with Reginald in the new van…everyone else load up.’

  Now the small fleet moves out. The Saxon in the lead. The new van behind with Roy driving and Maddox in the passenger seat feeling very relieved.

  Reginald in the back trying to think while constantly finding his mind stuck in the loop of being beaten and hurt. Being tied to a chair for no reason other than sadistic delight. He thinks of Marcy and the temptation to release her on the world. She’d win, of that there is no doubt. But using her now would be an act of spite driven by vengeance and those emotions must be tempered because if Marcy is used in that way there will be nothing left at the end. Marcy is the nuclear option to be used only if and when all hope is gone.

  Reginald also knows he shouldn’t have left it so long in the army base. If he’d deployed Marcy quicker then Blinky would still be here and his team now wouldn’t be as fractured as they are. That hesitation will not happen again.

  That unity is the single most important thing. Far more important than any of them realise because there is a risk Lani turned from breaking her connection to the group. Of course, there is also the possibility she simply turned back into an infected because of
her genetic make-up, but without knowing what caused it Reginald must factor for all possibilities.

  He worried before that Paula’s relationship with Clarence could drive them apart, and that such a thing could mean one turning Roy against the team, which cannot happen. Reginald even contemplated arranging Dave to execute Paula should the need arise, such was the level of risk posed, but at least that issue seems to be suppressed for now.

  ‘Reginald?’

  He looks around, startled from his thoughts to see Maddox coming into the back.

  ‘Need anything?’

  ‘Oh gosh, well now…I need lots of things. New glasses, some tea, maps, writing pads, writing implements and perhaps even the option of wearing clothes that suit me rather than these awful sporty…military things…but other than that no, I am fine.’

  Maddox listens while moving to sit down and lean against the side of the van. ‘Was it your idea for me to travel with you?’

  ‘Let us say it was a collaboration of ideas discussed with Mr Howie. Are you displeased?’

  ‘Not at all. I’m not one of them so…maybe it’s best.’

  ‘Indeed, which is what we thought. Mr Howie is not your enemy, Maddox.’

  Maddox nods, smiling at the man. ‘Do you mind me in the back or do you want peace and quiet?’

  ‘On the contrary, it is nice to have someone to talk with.’

  ‘Who doesn’t just talk about tits and arses,’ Roy calls out from the front, making Maddox snort a laugh then look up to the blast of cool air rushing from a vent, he closes his eyes, feeling the temperature drop with a pleasurable shiver. ‘Is the air-con okay for you?’ Roy calls out with a chuckle.

  ‘Just fine,’ Maddox murmurs.

  In the Saxon, they sweat and breathe the hot air in silence. The thrum of the engine and the big wheels rolling on the road. The vibration in the frame that Danny can feel through his new boots that he stares at for a few minutes before looking over at Meredith lying down with her head towards the back then up at everyone else. All of them so quiet and withdraw.

  He looks out the open back doors to the van he drove and beyond it to the horsebox then glances at Charlie who sits with her head back and her eyes closed. She’s really pretty, even with the scar and the chunk of ear missing. She shifts position, seemingly detecting his gaze so he looks over to Cookey then to Nick, Blowers and down to Dave and Mo.

  ‘Got to be another storm coming,’ Paula says to no one in particular.

  ‘Hope so,’ Marcy replies.

  Silence again.

  ‘Be good, clear the air,’ Nick says.

  Silence. Just the vibration of the vehicle’s motion.

  ‘Definitely,’ Cookey says. ‘You okay, Charlie?’

  ‘Fine,’ she says, her voice clipped and tense.

  Silence again. Looks shared between Marcy and Paula, then from Paula to Clarence who turns in his seat, the two of them locking eyes for long seconds in a way that Danny doesn’t understand.

  ‘So who beat you?’

  ‘Pardon?’ Danny asks, looking to Marcy.

  ‘Your face,’ she says. ‘All beaten…like them,’ she adds, nodding at the lads.

  Danny stays silent, not wanting to sound like a waif from a broken home or someone with baggage or issues. Be strong and silent. Work hard and don’t go blabbing your whole life story to everyone, his father’s words in his mind. He remembers all of them. Everything his dad ever said.

  ‘Something to hide?’ Nick asks.

  ‘No offence, Danny,’ Marcy says. ‘But we don’t know you…who beat you? What for? What happened?’

  If you have to speak out then always be honest. Don’t lie for anyone ever. ‘I got angry,’ Danny says.

  ‘Angry?’ Marcy asks as Charlie finally opens her eyes to look at him.

  ‘Angry,’ Danny says. ‘In the place we were hiding…like…like this feeling inside…I’m not mad or anything, like I’m not…I don’t have issues.’

  ‘We all get angry,’ Paula says. ‘Go on, what happened?’

  Danny shrugs, clearly uncomfortable at the scrutiny. ‘Just odd times. Like when Mr Howie was shooting them in that street and I grabbed that rifle…like a feeling inside. I’m not nuts…I wouldn’t have hurt anyone I promise…I er…I said we should be fighting back but they said no and I got angry and tried to get out and fight…Kieron he…’

  ‘Kieron?’ Marcy asks.

  ‘Stepdad,’ Danny says. ‘Him and his mates…stopped me going out.’

  ‘I see,’ Marcy says, nodding slowly while studying him.

  ‘I’m not crazy or anything.’

  ‘I think we’re all a bit crazy…’ Paula says, her voice cutting off as the Saxon starts slowing.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ Clarence asks from the front.

  ‘No idea,’ Howie says.

  Everyone leans forward, peering down to see through the windscreen to the solitary figure standing in the middle of the road, blocking the junction to the High Street of the new town beyond him.

  Mo feels the prickle inside. The sensation in his head. ‘They’s here,’ he calls out.

  ‘Make ready,’ Blowers orders, everyone stirring to action. ‘Mo, cover Charlie down to get on Jess…tell Roy and Mads we’ve got a contact…’

  ‘Paula, be ready to drive this,’ Howie shouts, pushing his door to drop out as Danny jumps out behind Blowers into the blazing sun, he spots Mo running with Charlie past the van then hears the clang of metal as the ramp drops then the drum of hooves and a snort as Jess comes thundering out.

  ‘With me,’ Blowers says, Danny stays close, going wide from the vehicle feeling horribly empty-handed while everyone lifts rifles to aim up and round, sweeping their eyes over doorways and windows.

  A clatter behind him and Charlie goes flying past on Jess, aiming to get ahead of Howie, Dave and Clarence slowly advancing on the solitary figure standing in the road.

  A man. Middle-aged with a pot belly and thin arms and legs. Short hair and a light coating of beard flecked with grey. His eyes red and bloodshot. A clear bite wound on his right hand. His clothes ill-fitting but strangely clean, as though new and hastily pulled on.

  ‘Coming through,’ Maddox rushes past, his rifle up and ready as he flanks Reginald limping towards Howie, Dave and Clarence at the front.

  ‘Is it just him?’ Reginald asks.

  ‘All we can see,’ Howie says.

  ‘You are cruel,’ the man says, his voice rasping and low from not speaking for days.

  ‘Fuck’s sake, we’re back to that…’ Howie says. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘You are…’ the infected man cuts off with a strangled gargle as Meredith decides, at that point, to eat him.

  ‘Right. I see,’ Reginald says stiffly, watching the dog snapping her head side to side ragging the man over the road. ‘I gather we are not communicating with him then?’

  ‘We need a bloody leash,’ Clarence says.

  ‘Leash?’ Howie asks. ‘We’re British, it’s a lead.’

  ‘Same thing…he’s dead.’

  ‘I can see he’s dead,’ Howie says. ‘Reggie, was that opportune or did they know we were coming here?’

  ‘I would suggest they knew given the proximity of this town to the last one.’

  ‘Okay, load up…we’ll try the random thing and find somewhere else.’

  Five minutes later they set off with Danny once again in the same seat but this time staring down the Saxon to the dog lying down with her front paws over the lip of the back edge with a human foot dangling from her jaws. The foot she pulled off the man before jumping into the Saxon and growling with her ears down at anyone going near it.

  ‘Drink,’ Blowers says, passing Danny a bottle and the day wears on with a long drive out of the area into another town, then out of the Saxon to go with Blowers while the others loot Maplin’s electronics store then cover Maddox smashing another window to run in to grab goods before coming back out a bare minute later.

  Back into the
Saxon. Into the heat and the strained silence and the lack of jokes or banter. ‘Drink,’ Blowers tells Danny.

  In the back of the new van, Maddox lays the pairs of spectacles he grabbed from the optician's shop on the table in the cool air. ‘I just grabbed what I could…’

  ‘Oh now, that is a thing,’ Reginald says, smiling for the first time since he woke up from being beaten unconscious. ‘These are from the display units I gather?’

  ‘They are, I know they’re not real glasses but…I figured it’s the wearing of them rather than the corrective lenses.’

  ‘You, Mr Doku, are a dark horse.’

  ‘Racist.’

  ‘What!? Gosh no, I would never say a comment of such a nature…I meant dark horse as in…’

  ‘Joking, Reginald. It was a joke.’

  ‘I got it,’ Roy says from the front. ‘Good joke.’

  ‘Oh well now, yes that did give me a fright. I would never be racist.’

  ‘What do you think?’ Maddox asks, putting a pair of horn-rimmed glasses on. ‘Do I look smart?’

  ‘Let me see,’ Roy calls out, chuckling when Maddox leans through. ‘Very good.’

  The DIY warehouse on the edge of an industrial estate comes next. The Saxon used to batter the shutter down and punch an access hole through.

  Dave and Mo go in first with Meredith while everyone else waits outside. Danny once again empty-handed and staying close to Blowers. No comments. No chat.

  ‘Clear,’ Mo says, reporting to Howie. ‘No signs of movement. Dust on the floor is unbroken…no smells.’

  ‘Okay, quick as we can…axes, torches, lights…tools, grab everything we need. Charlie, stay out here on Jess. Maddox, you too,’ Howie says.

  They go in quickly, jogging almost comically as one unit into the wide central aisle to stop and read the signs indicating the section before splitting up and rushing off.

  ‘Danny, with me…’ Howie says, running off towards the axes with Dave and Clarence. Danny goes with them, rushing into the tools section to see Howie clapping his hands together at sight of the axes. ‘Thank fuck! Danny, hold your arms out…’

  He does as told, standing still while Howie loads him up with long-shafted axes, some with single heads, others with double and all with carbon fibre composite handles.

  ‘Take them out to Maddox then straight back,’ Howie tells him. Danny runs off awkwardly, down the aisle then off to navigate the debris that was the door before the Saxon took it out then out into the heat and glaring sun to see Maddox aiming his rifle across the vast car park at a lone figure walking into view.