The Undead_Day 22

by R. R. Haywood

  ‘I think about now, Mr Howie.’

  ‘Wow, bloody hell, Dave,’ Howie says in genuine shock at the coherent verbalisation of a thought process from Dave.

  Dave walks on and the wind hits. The wind that comes howling from the sky like a real living thing that changes the landscape around them in an instant, making the rain horizontal and thereby instantly opening the view ahead from mere yards to hundreds of feet. Buildings on both sides of the street and Howie feels the jarring jolt at realising they’re in a town whereas he assumed they were still in the countryside. Big houses set back from the road and a huge old church with an enormous spire on the right. Signs on both sides of the road. One of them warning of floods in this area and another warning of the weak bridge ahead that Howie and Dave look for but cannot see due to the raging white topped furious river roaring by.

  ‘Fuck me,’ Howie says, turning to wave at the Saxon to stop.

  ‘Yeah I can see it,’ Clarence shouts, leaning out of the driver’s door before dropping down and striding over. The back doors open. The van doors too as some of the others drop out into the wind and rain to join Howie, Clarence and Dave at the front staring at the river a mere few metres ahead.

  That the river has burst its banks is obvious. That it appears to have eaten whatever bridge was here is also obvious. Over thirty metres wide and raging. The waters churning with noise and power. Murky brown from mud and sediment with white tops splashing out in the wind, like a set of rapids powering through the Grand Canyon.

  ‘We wouldn’t have seen it,’ Howie says. ‘Would have walked straight into it…fuck me…every half hour…’

  ‘This is insane,’ Cookey shouts. ‘What’s causing it?’

  ‘Us,’ Howie shouts back. ‘I mean people…no more people…it must have changed the weather.’

  ‘We’ll have to go back,’ Paula shouts.

  ‘Not in this,’ Howie shouts. ‘Wind is too strong…it could turn Jess’s trailer over…it’s broadsided…go for that that church over there…it’s far enough back from the river,’ a crash behind them. A roof tile smashing into the side of the Saxon, obliterating into chunks with a thud. ‘TIME TO GO…’ Howie shouts, bending forward in the wind. A hand on his arm. Paula tugging him around as he turns away.

  ‘LOOK,’ she shouts, pointing at the river. Howie looks at the violent waters, struggling to see what she means as motion catches his eyes that lift to the far side of the river and the man running into view from a bend in the road between shops on the other side and even from this distance they can see his motion is panicked. A woman behind him. Two boys, teenagers then more people staggered in a line with some clustered together. All of them running from something.

  ‘No,’ Howie whispers, not feeling Paula’s hand tightening on his arm. ‘No…please…’ a sense of dread inside as he stands with the others watching the lead man spot the waters ahead and screams out, his words lost in the wind and rain. The others running with him do the same. Panic spreading through them as they see their route ahead now lost. ‘FUCK,’ Howie screams the word out, making Tappy and Danny snap their heads over towards him. ‘We’ve got to get over…’

  Tappy frowns, not understanding. Danny the same while everyone else seems to know something they don’t.

  ‘DAVE, SHOUT FOR THEM TO GET DOWN…ROY! GET ROY DOWN HERE…’

  Mo runs off, sprinting for Roy’s van as everyone else runs back to the Saxon to get their rifles left inside for fear of exposing them to the rain.

  ‘GET DOWN…’ Dave bellows but even his voice isn’t enough to fight through the wind to reach the people who run impotently towards the river.

  ‘GET INSIDE THE HOUSES…’ Howie shouts. ‘BARRICADE…’ Dave joins in, shouting the same words that go unheard as Roy runs up, balking at the sight. ‘WE’VE GOT TO GET OVER,’ Howie shouts.

  ‘How?’ Roy mouths.

  ‘He’s seen us!’ Paula shouts.

  Howie looks over to see the man holding the child waving across the river. His face animated. The others catching up behind him. All doing the same. Screaming out and looking wild and panicked.

  ‘Roy, can we tie rope on an arrow and fire it over there?’ Nick asks.

  ‘In this wind? Jesus, Nick,’ Roy says, looking back at the river. ‘I’ll try,’ he adds quickly. ‘Get the rope…’

  ‘Dave…make ready,’ Howie shouts.

  Tappy watches as Dave lifts his rifle to his shoulder and calmly looks down the sights while clicking the button to select single shot.

  ‘GET TO COVER…’ Clarence roars, waving for the people to go left into the buildings. They wave back, clearly confused and terrified. Blowers and Cookey join Clarence, motioning to the side. All doing the same in the vain hope the message will be understood.

  ‘Rope,’ Maddox shouts, running in with Nick. ‘It’s heavy though…will an arrow carry it…’

  Roy doesn’t answer but drops his bag to pluck an arrow out, nocking it into the string of his huge longbow. Calmness spreads through him. His mind centred, his breathing relaxed, his heart-rate lowering. Strong wind from the right blowing to the left. He spots the target he wants. A ground floor window of the closest building on the other side. An adjustment up and to the right. More. Then more. Aiming up. Aiming right. Feeling it. Sensing it. Pull back. Stretch, feel the power. Calm now. At ease now. Loose. The arrow flies up. Tappy and Danny snapping their heads to see it go wide to the right, missing the aim by a mile. Then the wind hits and the arrow changes course, slamming over to the left to drop down and slam through the window.

  ‘Shot,’ Nick says calmly. ‘Spot on…’

  ‘No fucking way,’ Tappy mouths, digging Danny in his ribs. ‘Did you see that…’

  ‘YES!’ Cookey shouts at the man finally seeming to understand who turns to look at the houses at the side. He starts shouting to his group, clearly motioning for them to move.

  ‘Get the rope tied on,’ Roy urges.

  ‘Doing it,’ Maddox replies.

  ‘DAVE!’ Blowers shouts and Dave fires the first shot that flies across the river through the wind and through the gaps in the people to strike the infected man running into view in his centre of mass, driving him back off his feet.

  ‘Oh shit,’ Tappy says, finally understanding as she grabs Danny. ‘The things…they’re running from the things…RUN…GET TO COVER…IN THE BUILDING…GO GO…’

  Dave fires at the next one coming into view. The noise of the shot almost lost in the howl of the wind but the first one he shot rises to charge again as Dave adjusts and fires again, finally taking him through the head.

  Calm now. At ease now. Roy nocks and lifts, seeing his target, pulling the string back. Wind. The arrow is heavy. Aim up and to the right. More. More. More again. Not enough. The arrow is heavy and will drag. Aim higher. Power now, Roy. Power and focus. Breathe. He stretches the string, drawing it back while facing fully away from his target as more infected pour into the street with Dave firing single shots, the distance and conditions too great even for him to gain head shots. The people scream out as the man with the child kicks at a door.

  Loose. The arrow flies up, pulling the rope behind that uncoils in a spin as Howie runs back to the Saxon.

  The first arrow was impossible but this one, with a rope tied on, is beyond impossible and Tappy stands stunned as the arrow drops and sails down, the rope stretching out behind it and for a second it will surely plummet into the waters, then she sees the angle is perfect and it flies through the same window, smashing more glass out as Roy simply plucks another arrow, nocks, breathes, pulls back, stretches, aims and looses to join Dave in doing what they can to drop the infected.

  ‘TIE THE ROPE,’ Clarence roars as Nick runs back to the Saxon, going around Howie tugging his bag on to dive in, grabbing the handset for the loudspeaker.

  ‘TIE THE ROPE,’ Nick’s amplified voice booms out and finally, the man with the child gets help from the other survivors and batters the door in, all of them trying to char
ge through the door at the same time.

  ‘Is it on?’ Howie runs back, wedging his axe between down his back.

  ‘Not yet,’ Maddox shouts back, feeling the rope still slack.

  ‘Come on…’ Howie mutters. His face a mask. His eyes brooding and hard. ‘COME ON…’

  ‘There!’ Paula shouts, seeing movement in the window Roy fired the arrow through.

  ‘TIE THE ROPE!’ Nick bellows. Clarence the same. Everyone shouting. Roy and Dave firing as more infected come into view. Too many survivors still in the street for anyone else to risk firing and shooting them.

  Movement inside the window. The man they saw with the child appearing in view, smashing the glass out with a chair before looking out then disappearing from view.

  ‘He’s got it,’ Maddox shouts, feeling the rope being pulled.

  ‘TIE IT ON…’

  ‘Pull it,’ Howie shouts at Maddox.

  ‘It’s too soon,’ Paula shouts.

  ‘Pull it,’ Howie shouts again. Maddox tugs, gently at first then harder, feeling the tension. ‘PULL THAT FUCKING ROPE…’ Maddox heaves back, feeling it hold.

  ‘It’s holding…’ he shouts.

  ‘ANCHOR IT,’ Howie runs.

  ‘Fuck,’ Maddox yells out as Clarence snatches the rope from his grip and runs to climb the front wheel of the Saxon then up to the roof and the big man starts looping it around his wrists and turns once to hoop it around his back before planting his feet as Howie roars out and leaps up to grip the rope, hooking his ankles over to start crawling upside down but the rope sags, dunking into him the river.

  Clarence pulls back, heaving hard to lift the rope straight as Howie comes up out of the water still crawling as the man in the window appears in view holding the child, showing shock at the sight of someone coming over.

  ‘HOLD IT TIGHT!’ Maddox shouts, sprinting hard to dive out, gripping the rope that sinks down again as Clarence roars and pulls back to keep the rope taut. Paula grabs Marcy, the two of them climbing the Saxon to get next to Clarence, gripping the rope to pull back, lifting Howie and Maddox from the surface of the water splashing over them as they go hand over hand across the rope.

  Blowers tenses, wanting to go for it but sensing the rope might not hold three. Then the rope gives and sinks down with Howie and Maddox dunking into the waters again while those on the road scream out as Clarence loops the rope over his arms, drawing it towards him and hoping to hell whoever is on the other end gets a bloody grip. Finally, the tension comes back as Clarence grits his teeth, looping arm over arm as more climb the Saxon to help pull it tight.

  Howie spews and gasps for air. His whole world just water and noise while feeling the power of the river pulling him from the rope but he clung on and now rises again, pulling hand over hand and snatching a glimpse of drenched Maddox a few metres behind him. ‘WHAT THE FUCK?’

  ‘WHAT?’ Maddox shouts, spewing river water the same as Howie.

  ‘NOONE LIGHTER THAN YOU THEN?’

  ‘RACIST.’

  ‘I MEANT IN WEIGHT YOU TWAT…’

  ‘I KNOW.’

  ‘I’M NOT RACIST.’

  ‘I KNOW…’

  It seems to take forever. Hand over hand. Upside down with the river mere inches below and Howie catches glimpse as the survivors finally clear the street and his team can get some good fire down. ‘FUCK!’ he shouts again on hearing the bullets whizz past. ‘TOO CLOSE TOO CLOSE…’

  ‘DON’T SHOOT US,’ Maddox shouts.

  ‘Jesus…you two are nuts,’ a man in the window shouts, leaning out to stretch a hand towards Howie. The base of the house now lost to the raging torrent going by.

  Howie grunts, taking his hand to turn and fall into the windowsill, scraping his stomach as people rush to grab his arms and shoulders, heaving him in to drop on the floor to see a group of men crying out from the pain and exertion of holding the rope.

  ‘Argh,’ Maddox falls in, sprawling over Howie, elbows and knees going into bellies and heads.

  ‘We’re up,’ Howie shouts, untangling from Maddox and surging to his feet. ‘THAT WAS FUCKING NUTS…’ he shouts at the people, pointing at the window. ‘WHERE’S THE DOOR?’

  ‘It’s there,’ the man says, gulping as he points to the door next to Howie.

  ‘GOT IT…ER…STAY HERE…’ Howie shouts.

  ‘STAY HERE,’ Maddox shouts, running after Howie.

  ‘I’M NOT RACIST,’ Howie shouts, running through the house to the front door then stopping dead instead of running out into the bullets whipping past.

  ‘IT WAS A JOKE,’ Maddox shouts.

  ‘GRAB THAT TABLECLOTH,’ Howie shouts.

  ‘WHY ARE WE SHOUTING?’ Maddox shouts, grabbing the tablecloth that Howie throws out the door.

  ‘COS WE’RE HYPED TO FUCK MATE,’ Howie yells.

  ‘CEASEFIRE,’ Blowers screams, seeing the tablecloth fly from the door. ‘I’M ON…COOKEY, AFTER ME…’

  ‘Holy fuck,’ Tappy says on seeing Howie and Maddox charge from the house towards a the infected after crawling along a rope above a raging river. ‘Can we do that?’ she looks to Danny who nods weakly, as stunned as she but that nod becomes eager and excited as they turn to see Blowers and Cookey crawling along the rope.

  ‘ARGH,’ Howie bellows in the street, pulling his axe overhead.

  ‘ARGH,’ Maddox bellows in the street, pulling a big knife from his belt.

  Shots still fire and arrows still strike but the two go wild and deep to kill and slaughter. Howie slamming his axe left and right with twenty-four days of battle behind him. Maddox stabbing and slicing with a life of hard living behind him. Throats slit. Stomachs opened. Stabbing, cutting, cleaving and the blood spills.

  ‘OH MY GOD THAT WAS NUTS,’ Blowers shouts, landing on the floor of the house before springing to his feet.

  ‘Argh,’ Cookey shouts, falling in then jumping up. ‘WHERE’S THE DOOR?’

  ‘It’s there,’ the man says, pointing at it.

  ‘STAY HERE,’ Blowers shouts.

  ‘STAY HERE,’ Cookey shouts.

  ‘We will,’ the man says, leaning over to watch them charge out through the rooms and out into the street.

  The four hold the line. Fighting in the driving rain and howling wind with roof tiles smashing on the ground about them as the sky sears with lightning bolts and the thunder booms.

  ‘S’FUCKED UP INNIT,’ Mo shouts, landing on the floor of the room.

  ‘WHAT HE SAID,’ Nick shouts as Danny just smiles wild and crazed, still nodding eagerly.

  ‘Door’s right there,’ the man says politely.

  ‘STAY HERE,’ Mo shouts.

  ‘STAY HERE,’ Nick shouts as Danny just smiles wild and crazed.

  ‘Yes of course,’ the man says, looking through the window to see if any more crazy people are coming across as Mo, Nick and Danny run out to fight, joining the fray and the battle.

  ‘GOSH, THAT WAS DIFFERENT,’ Charlie shouts, landing on the floor a few minutes later.

  ‘I’M NEW,’ Tappy shouts.

  ‘Women too?’ the man asks in such shock it shows as mild surprise. ‘The door is right there and er…we’ll stay here?’

  ‘STAY HERE,’ Charlie shouts.

  ‘BYE,’ Tappy shouts, running after Charlie.

  On the Saxon, Clarence holds the rope, staring across the river to the fight underway and looks at Marcy and Paula and down to Reginald, Dave and Roy then back to the rope.

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ Paula says. ‘You’re too big…’

  ‘Why isn’t Dave going?’ Marcy asks.

  ‘Scared of water,’ Paula replies. ‘NO!’ she yells out as Meredith, barking at the edge of the water and going nuts at not being able to join the fight, leaps out intending to swim across, her body hitting the water and pulled under within a second.

  Paula leaps off the Saxon to hit the ground running, sprinting hard alongside the bank as she spots Meredith’s head breaking the water, her front paws scrab
bling like mad, but she sinks down again, disappearing from view in the swirling currents and white-topped waves.

  No time to think. No time for thought. Paula dives in, hitting the water hard and going deep to slam into the dog’s warm body that she grips and holds and starts kicking to break the surface, pushing the two of them up to gasp for air, the dog in wild panic, crying and whining while scrabbling with her claws raking Paula’s arms and body. ‘It’s okay…it’s okay…’ she sputters and gags, trying to calm the dog while the waters pull them on.

  She tries to turn for the bank but goes under, using her own body to push the dog up so Meredith may breathe, so Meredith may live and have life. She kicks out again, swirling left and right, going deeper then breaking the surface to gasp air but taking water down as she sinks once more while fighting to keep Meredith’s head above the water but she’s not strong enough. She can’t do it. Meredith is too heavy, and the water is too strong. She tries harder but sinks deeper and pushes a hand up to force Meredith’s chin out of the water because the team need the dog more than they need her. They need Meredith’s nose and instincts. They need her power and strength. What they are doing cannot be done without Meredith, and so Paula takes her death without complaint because pack is pack and they would all have died many times over if not for this dog.

  A surge of fight still in her and Paula rallies again, fighting for seconds of life, not for herself but to keep Meredith up, to keep her breathing while the dog claws and panics, raking Paula’s face and neck then slamming her feet into Paula’s stomach, driving the air out that makes Paula suck in, filling her lungs with water. She screams out, intending to purge but that makes her breathe in again and the panic grips as images of life flash through her mind. Her old office. Her family. Her mother and her uncle George. She thinks of Howie and the team and feels only love. She thinks of Clarence and regrets nothing while regretting everything and she holds on as she dies to keep Meredith’s head up because this is her pack and she’ll be damned if she’ll lose another one so soon after Blinky.

  Blinky! The thought of her sends a wave of love through Paula. She’ll see her again. She’ll see Blinky. She closes her eyes to die, to let it go, to join Blinky. Not yet, Miss Paula Sir. Not yet. She rallies. Hearing Blinky’s voice. A mirage. A dream, a hallucination of her mind in the final seconds of death. HOLD ON MISS PAULA SIR. It’s not real. Blinky is dead. YEAH I’M DEAD AND YOU AIN’T SO GET A GRIP MISS PAULA.