by Ian Woodhead
They had actively been seeking the bastards out though and terminating their arses. Candice grinned. They were like zombie hunters or something.
“What’s so fucking funny?” asked Chelsea.
“We are Candice and Chelsea, the Amazon zombie warriors. Wiping the undead scumbags off the streets of Breakspear.”
Chelsea laughed aloud. “Fuck yes, I so like that.” She grinned back. “I’m so hungry. I wonder if the chip shop is open.”
Candice looked at her as if she’d gone soft in the head. “Are you having a fucking laugh? Do you honestly think there’ll be a queue of zombies inside Mike’s Fish Bar, all wanting battered brains and chips?”
She watched Chelsea rubbing that metal ring she had through her bottom lip. Candice had seen her do that a couple of times before. It must be her stress reliever or something.
“I ain’t fucking stupid. I mean they might have opened up before the shit hit the fan.”
Candice decided there and then that it was a stress reliever. She must fiddle about with that fucking stupid thing when faced with difficult questions, like what is two plus two. The girl was proper thick.
Chelsea sighed, placed the bat over her shoulder and turned around. “Well, are you coming or what?”
Her own stomach had started to growl now. The last thing that she had rammed down her neck was a sausage roll at dinnertime. “What the fuck for? It won’t be open. You know that.”
“Well, have you got any better ideas?”
The girl grinned when Candice shook her head. “I thought not.”
Chelsea started walking down the middle of the street.
“Wait up!” Candice shouted. She found that she couldn’t move her legs. She looked down and found a pair of grimy hands had shot out from under the car and fastened around her ankles.
“Get the fuck off my legs, you twat!”
She gripped her bar with both hands, then slammed it down. The end plunged straight through the thing’s wrist and smacked against the tarmac below. Its fingers flopped apart like a dead jellyfish. The other hand tightened its grip. She hissed in pain and almost dropped the iron bar.
The hand pulled back, knocking her off balance. She saw a bald head belonging to a middle-aged bloke emerging, its jaw opening and shutting like a snapping turtle coming out of its shell.
“I said, get the fuck off me.”
Chelsea had started to run back to help her out.
“You’re too fucking late, you fat bitch,” Candice whispered.
Those teeth were now centimeters away from her new trainers. Candice had no doubt that those pearly whites would slice through the fabric in two seconds flat.
“Eat this, you fucker!” She finally wrestled the iron bar out of the thing’s arm, then rammed it hard into its mouth.
“Are you alright?” asked Chelsea, panting.
Candice rubbed her ankle, trying to get the circulation working again. There were going to be a right set of ugly bruises on that in the morning.
“Of course I’m alright,” she replied. “And that, by the way, is twenty more points to me now.”
She wrenched the bar out of the thing’s mouth, “Are you still wanting to stuff your fat face?” she asked, smiling, “Cos if you think that I’m traipsing all the way to the other end of the bastard estate on a knackered leg then you’ve got another think coming.”
Chelsea waited for her to stop getting all pissy, gesturing for her to release her bombshell.
“Cos I’ve got a better idea. Pick a number.”
“Eh? What are you on about?”
Candice grinned. “Pick a fucking house number. You can bet a pound to a penny that most of them are gonna be empty. Their kitchen cupboards and fridge are bound to be stocked up with shit loads of goodies.”
Chelsea grinned back. “You ain’t just a pretty face, are you?”
“Like I said, pick a number.”
Chelsea held the bat out in front of her and turned around until she faced a whitewashed house opposite a Volkswagen Beetle.
“What’s so special about that one then?”
Chelsea pointed to the fence. “Look at the garden. The lawn’s actually been cut this year, and the door isn’t a council one. I bet their larder’s packed with loads of really expensive gear from Marks and Spencer’s. None of that value shit.”
It was more likely that the gaff belonged to an old couple. The cupboards would be full of cream crackers and tins of corned beef and all that other stuff that pensioners ate. Still, it was her choice, so Candice wasn’t going to bitch about it.
As they reached the metal gates, she heard something shuffle behind them. Candice spun around, her iron bar raised above her head. The thought of earning another twenty points disappeared when she saw an old man limping towards them.
“Fuck me!” gasped Chelsea. “That bastard is still alive.”
“Only just,” muttered Candice. How the fuck had he managed to stay alive? He was like ninety or something.
He was the first living person they’d seen since the outbreak. They’d heard a couple of gunshots, but no live sightings until now.
“Oh thank God! Proper, real people. I need your help. Can you help me?”
Candice casually laid her bar on the wall and slowly walked towards him. She had no wish to scare him, and the poor bastard looked terrified.
“Please, my wife is trapped and there are these dead people after us.”
The man sighed then whimpered. He looked at her with hound dog eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Have they touched her?” Chelsea asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“For fuck’s sake, you daft old bastard. Have they bitten her yet?”
The man started to cry. Candice hurried over and put her arm around him.
“Jesus, Chelsea, don’t be so fucking heartless.” She wiped his face and gently lifted his head. “Where is she? We’ll do what we can.”
He slowly smiled. “Thank you, oh thank you. We’re just parked around the corner.”
She watched him scurry away. She turned and looked at Chelsea, who shrugged back, then they both hurried to catch up to him.
He stopped behind the rear doors of a blue van.
“This is yours?” Chelsea asked.
The man nodded. “She’s in the back,” he replied.
Something was wrong here. Since when did old couples drive about in vans? Candice then realized that she’d left her pissing bar on that wall. Bloody hell!
The old man turned and walked between the two girls. “Open the doors,” he said from behind them.
Candice jumped when she heard an explosion behind her. She watched in horror as Chelsea dropped to the ground. Candice spun around and saw the man holding a sawn-off shotgun at her face.
“Your friend’s fallen down. Oh dear. Now walk over to those doors before I blast your pretty little head off.”
“What the fuck is going on? Jesus Christ! We were trying to help you.”
He brought the gun up to his shoulder. “I won’t ask you again.”
Candice thrust her arms up into the air and took two steps back. “Please, we’ve done nothing to you. Let us go.”
“One more step.”
Candice complied. Hot, salty tears were streaming down her cheeks. She heard the doors behind her fly open, and before she had a chance to turn, a pair of blackened, stinking hands seized her head. Candice was pulled back into the back of the van. She managed to emit one short scream before three sets of teeth tore into her.
Chapter Nine
She wrapped her soft warm fingers around his hand. Kevin smiled and gazed into Stephanie’s beautiful brown eyes. Oh God, he wanted to sigh yet again. Kevin averted his eyes, not wanting her to think that he was turning into a big sighing machine. He saw the pale light from the full moon reflecting off a small rain puddle just by his foot. Why didn’t anybody tell him that these feelings existed?
Kevin
sighed, he just couldn’t help himself. It was just his damned luck to have to endure the zombie holocaust before he was able to finally find a young attractive girl who didn’t have the urge to laugh, call him horrible names, or spit at him.
Maybe ignorance truly was bliss. Kevin tried to imagine how it would have felt if he’d known that these emotions did exist and the only chance for him to experience them was to wait for the apocalypse. It just wasn’t fucking fair.
They both sat, opposite each other, on the flat roof of a brick shed. It felt a little safer up here, rather than standing about on the garden path below. For a start, up here, they could actually see if any of those things were heading towards them. Kevin clenched his fists to stop the shakes from turning him into a big plate of jelly again.
“Are you alright?”
He looked up and smiled at the girl, then slowly nodded. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just had this picture of us walking out of the garden and a dozen of those zombies, hiding behind that hedge, reaching out and grabbing us.”
“You hush, I won’t let that happen.”
Kevin sighed again and turned to look at the house behind them. Darren wouldn’t allow them into the house. He told the pair of them that they were not worthy enough to step into his best mate’s house. So, apparently they were the lookouts. Darren said that if they did see a bunch of the dead fuckers lurching towards the house that they should both scream like the sad girls they were.
Stephanie had quietly mentioned to Kevin that if enough of those dead people did lurch into the garden, then just how would they get off the shed? Kevin didn’t want to think about that horrible scenario. Besides, what were the chances of that actually happening? The most dead people they had seen together, so far, was four. They had passed them on the next street. A group of old women sat in the middle of someone’s driveway, munching on somebody’s leg.
Where was everybody? That did worry him. Breakspear was massive; there were over a thousand houses in the estate, most of them family homes. They can’t all be still inside, could they? He looked at the house next door, trying to see through the dark windows. The estate was as quiet as the grave. Kevin shuddered. That wasn’t the most appropriate word to use.
Kevin turned away from those windows, not really wanting to see any zombie staring back at him. He gazed back at the house next door, wondering if Darren had met with any zombies. It occurred to Kevin that the house looked out of place in the middle of Breakspear. With its well-tended garden, stone cladding and brick driveway, it looked like it should sit in the posh estate next to theirs.
It was obvious even to Kevin why the place looked so expensive. The whole set-up just screamed drug pusher to anyone who drove past. The new four-wheel drive and the Porsche, both black, just sealed the deal.
The look of resignation must have been evident of Kevin’s face when Darren pushed open the gate. The thug just grinned like a dog with two dicks, obviously proud of the fact that he was mates with one of the big boys on Breakspear.
Darren hadn’t told them why he wanted to go to this house, although Kevin had already guessed why. The local pusher was bound to have a few guns somewhere in the house. Looking back, he was kinda glad that Darren had ordered them to stay outside. It looked too creepy for his liking. Bumping into a bunch of Breakspear thugs was bad enough without them being dead as well. He didn’t think he’d be able to cope with seeing that.
“Do you think he was right, Kevin? About them cutting off the estate, I mean?” Stephanie walked to the edge of the roof and leaned over, gazing across the street. “How far are we away from the edge of the estate?”
He shrugged. “We’re right in the middle here. It’s about a mile and a bit, I think.”
She nodded. “I’m not sure whether to believe him.”
“Why would he lie about that?” he replied. “It would explain why the place isn’t crawling with emergency services. Have you seen a single police car?”
That bit, Kevin did believe. He wasn’t too sure about the story Darren had come up with about his previous companions. Something about that just did not add up.
Stephanie walked over to him, threw her arms around his back, and squeezed. The girl was a lot stronger than he was. Kevin realised that, apart from her name, he knew next to nothing about her.
“We should get away from Darren. He’s only concerned about his own welfare.” She looked back at the house. “He’s probably gone already, found a few weapons and scarpered through the back door.”
Kevin hadn’t thought of that. He followed her gaze, thinking back, trying to remember if he’d heard the sound of a door being quietly opened. He then discounted the idea as just stupid. There was no way that Darren would sneak out. The lad just didn’t give a fuck. “I think he’s still inside.”
She watched the door for a couple of seconds, then looked back at Kevin. “He might have gone or he might still be in there. Nevertheless, we should still go. If it’s a mile and a bit, like you said, we’ll be out of the estate in half an hour, if we leave right now.”
“I’m not sure we should do that, Stephanie.”
She stroked his cheeks, then kissed him gently on the lips. “You’re stronger than you think you are, Kevin. I bet bastards like him have been treating you like shit all your life. We don’t need him to tell us what to do. You’ve killed once and I know you can do it again.”
She stood up and looked towards the old cemetery and the abandoned church next to it. Kevin and most of the kids in the estate had played there when they were younger, until the council put a fence around it.
“We don’t need anybody else, Kevin. We can protect each other.”
He stood up and joined her and took another look at this beautiful girl. Beneath the good looks, Kevin could now detect something else. He knew that this girl could handle herself. It hadn’t been evident until now. He guessed that she was beginning to accept their dire situation, and her usual personality was starting to shine through the scared girl shell.
“The sound of gunfire carries, Kevin. I know I haven’t heard any weapons fire.” She looked at him. “Unless they were using suppressors. Have you heard any gunfire?”
“I’m not sure,” he replied, trying to remember if he had ever heard a girl mention weapons fire before. He wondered if she was a COD player.
“The more I think of it, Kevin, the more it makes sense. They won’t want to spook the natives. If they’re trying to contain the situation, the last thing they’d do is let the residents think that they’ve been invaded.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out an iPhone. “I thought so,” she said. “There’s no signal. They’ve cut us off.”
“You mean that we’re trapped?”
Stephanie shook her head. “No, it means just what I said. They’re trying to contain the situation. All we need to do is make our way to the edge of the estate.” She smiled at him. “Don’t you see? Everyone else has left, that’s why. It’s the only explanation to why it’s so empty.”
“Wait, no, not everybody,” gasped Kevin. He pointed behind them at an old man, dressed in a ripped suit and shambling towards them.
“Oh fuck, Kevin, it’s just another one of the dead things. Don’t move. It’ll probably go past us.”
The old man suddenly stopped in the middle of the road. He wiped his hand down his face, then waved. Kevin couldn’t believe it; they weren’t the only ones left after all. He waved back.
“Oh, thank the heavens!” shouted the old man. “I thought I was the only one left alive. Can you help me please? My wife is trapped in our car.”
Kevin looked at Stephanie, who smiled back at him. He took her hand then rushed over to the edge of the shed roof. “Where’s your car?”
“We’re parked just on Dunthorpe Street. We saw our neighbors change into these monsters and knew we had to leave.” A huge sob exploded from him. “Oh, please hurry! Our car broke down, can you believe that? There are two more of the monsters trying to get to her. Please help
me!”
“Don’t you worry, we’ll sort them out for you.” Kevin looked back at the house. There was still no sign of Darren. Maybe he had gone to sleep or was busy raiding the fridge; he didn’t know and didn’t cared. “Are you ready?” he said, gazing at Stephanie.
“Oh yes,” she replied. “It’s time to leave.”
Kevin dropped to his knees. He turned around and slowly climbed off the shed. Despite Stephanie’s reassurance, he was still unsure if he’d be able to kill again. She had told him that they were already dead, and stopping them in their tracks was the kindest thing he could do for the poor creatures. It didn’t put his mind at ease though.
His first one had been a fluke. They had seen the old woman sitting in a garden, leaning against a fence. She must have been pushing eighty, and she was too busy chomping down on a leg to notice him creeping up behind her.
The only thing stopping him from bailing out was Darren’s threat to kill Kevin if he didn’t go through with it. He also wanted to impress the girl, to show her that he wasn’t too much of a big wimp. He’d thrust the bayonet into the back of the old lady’s neck and she just fell forward. Kevin couldn’t believe how easy it had been or how sick he’d felt afterwards.
He helped Stephanie down. How would he cope with two of them though? Oh God, Kevin was beginning to get sick again.
“Where the fuck do you think you two are going?”
Kevin jumped at Darren’s voice; he looked up and saw him leaning out of an upstairs window. “That bloke over there is in trouble.”
“Like I give a fuck? You ain’t going anywhere. Now come in here, both of you.”
When Kevin didn’t move towards the door, Darren’s body ducked out of sight for a moment before reappearing. He now held a shotgun.
“Look what I’ve got. Come on, bunnies, I won’t tell you again.”
“He’s bluffing.”