“Try not to shoot if you can avoid it,” Sergeant Turner said. “The loud noise could alert more, or it could alert another controller above, and they could send another wave from somewhere else.”
Harrison had already thought of that, but he’d have to do whatever was necessary to keep everyone safe.
Sergeant Turner crouched beside Emily, pulling her up as gently as he could, her ankle had already bruised, and he knew that there was no hope that she could walk on it. He helped her onto his back, carrying her as best as he could. He was surprised just how light she felt, and he assumed that had more to do with the werewolf serum than her weight.
The sergeant took off running, and Harrison and Barry quickly followed. It wasn’t long before they reached a fork in the tunnels.
“This isn’t good!” Sergeant Turner said. Both directions were pitch black, and there was no sign of the others.
***
Lena and the prime minister dashed on. The zombies’ sounds were far behind them. Lena reached out and placed her hand on Mrs. Owens’ arm. They both slowed to a stop and looked around and then back to one another.
“Where are they?” she asked. “I feel like we shouldn’t be that far ahead.”
Lena and Mrs. Owens shared a concerned look. They had no idea how far away the others were, and they weren’t sure if they should go back.
“The fork in the tunnels—one way leads to here, the other just leads to a dead end,” the prime minister said.
Lena bit her lip. Going back for them could be dangerous, but she couldn’t leave them behind either. “We have to go back. We just have to get close to the fork. If we flash our lights down there, they’ll see us,” she said.
Mrs. Owens nodded. “We don’t have another choice. They’ll be trapped if we don’t.”
***
Emily gripped tightly onto Sergeant Turner, her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs hooked through his bent arms. Turning right, the sergeant led the way as quickly as possible with Emily on his back, but he was much slower than usual. Harrison and Barry followed close behind, hoping it was the right way to go. They could hear the zombies closing in on them.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Harrison yelled.
The tunnel opened into a large, bright room. There were lights flickering in the corners, offering more light than the dying flashlight.
Sergeant Turner let Emily slide off his back onto one of the wooden benches shoved against the wall. “This is one of the bomb shelters used in the second World War,” He pointed at the far wall.
Scrawled in chipped marks was “V FOR VICTORY” with a dozen tally marks scratched beside it. Harrison sighed. The tunnel had led them to a dead end. Zombies had followed them, which meant turning back would mean a fight they weren’t sure they could win.
Harrison sat in defeat beside Emily. “We only have, what, twelve bullets each?” he said, sighing.
“I think Lena took an extra magazine. She was with the prime minister though, so I thought nothing of it,” Barry said. “Not that one would make much difference.”
Sergeant Turner laughed without humor. “In this case? It could have made all the difference in the world.”
“What about a grenade?” Emily asked.
Harrison shook his head. “We set that off down here, we’re all dead, anyway. Hard telling how sound these tunnels are. They could collapse in on us. No. We have to fight our way out for now.”
Sergeant Turner sat on the other side of Emily. “He’s right. I’m not going down without a fight,” he said firmly. “We might not have enough bullets. It’s also possible we have enough for this wave, but another wave hits us, and we’re fucked. Regardless… We’re not just going to sit here and let them have us. Got it?”
Harrison agreed. “V for victory, right?” he said.
“We can do this,” Barry said with more confidence than he actually had.
The first zombie crept out of the darkness, snarling and growling as it bared its yellowed teeth. It stared at them with blackened eyes. Harrison stood and aimed his pistol at its forehead, squeezing the trigger. It slumped to the floor, the loud pop of the shot echoing through their ears.
The second zombie appeared, then a third. Soon, a group of zombies snarled and groaned as they stumbled closer. Emily aimed at the forehead of one, taking a deep breath as she pulled the trigger. The gun jumped in her hand as the bullet met its intended target.
Sergeant Turner screamed loudly as he fired. He roared and pushed back at the zombies, hoping to do as much damage as possible. He took down a few while only winging a few others. Those shots would have stopped humans but not zombies. They had wasted shots, and that meant wasted precious ammunition.
Sergeant Turner stood beside Emily, Barry just on the other side of her. They backed farther into the room. Their guns were empty, and more zombies stumbled through the tunnel.
Harrison kicked and pushed, beating as many zombies as he could. His bones ached, and his muscles were on fire. He wanted to turn, but he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to after all they’d been through.
“There is no point,” Sergeant Turner told them. He hadn’t thought this would be the way he’d end up dying. He rather liked the idea of dying as a hero, but being eaten by zombies didn’t sound like too much fun.
Harrison huffed. The sergeant was right. If they couldn’t turn, there wasn’t much hope. He kicked at another zombie, knocking it back into a few more.
Emily had seen the zombies eat too many people, and she refused to be one of them. She just wasn’t sure how to keep them away.
“What the…?” Sergeant Turner started as a bright light began to shine into the tunneled room.
The light spread, catching the zombie’s eyes. The grey figures moved closer to it, fighting each other to get closer to the mysterious light.
Sergeant Turner’s eyes widened, and he quickly pulled Emily back. “Close your eyes!”
Just as he finished his warning, a loud bang echoed around the room.
Emily held her arms in front of her eyes. It was only because of the Sergeant’s warning that she’d saved herself from being blinded. After being in the tunnel so long, the light was brighter than the mid-day sun.
The noise stopped almost as instantly as it started. The light grew brighter before falling to darkness. Somehow, none of the zombies remained standing. Harrison, Emily, Barry, and the sergeant looked around at all the incapacitated zombies on the ground.
Lena rushed over to the others. “Are you guys okay?” she asked, shaking her father vigorously.
Sergeant Turner focused his attention on Lena. “What the hell just happened?” he asked in shock.
Lena smiled. “You can thank Barry. All his movie references and theories over the short time we’ve gotten to know one another. I figured if they were so easily distracted, they might be susceptible to overstimulation. They can’t follow directions, so I knew they wouldn’t know to shield their eyes. Totally worked.”
Harrison nodded in a robotic way. He stood up, looking around the room filled with unconscious zombies. “Can we please get out of here, like now?” he asked, walking towards the exit of the room. The smell from the zombies was terrible, and the flickering lights made the whole atmosphere even worse.
Mrs. Owens guided the group out of the bunker, heading back down the tunnel in the correct direction. The large structure echoed and amplified every noise, making their steps even louder. Lena shone the light down the tunnel, illuminating their way.
Barry sighed as he followed her. “I can tell you one thing,” he said to the group.
Harrison looked towards Barry. He listened intently to the sounds around the tunnel, keeping an ear out for any more zombies that might lurk around. “What are you going on about?” he asked.
Barry flashed his white teeth at Harrison. “I figured out our name!” he exclaimed. “Every kick-ass team needs one!”
Harrison shot a disapproving glance at him. “Do enlighten me,
Barry. What is our team name?”
Barry chuckled. “Prancing BEMOLTH,” he said proudly.
Lena turned to look at Barry with obvious curiosity, even if he couldn’t see it in the dim light. “Barry, what the fuck does BELMOTH stand for?”
“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say it’s the initials of all our names—isn’t it?” Harrison said, no emotion or real interest in his voice.
Lena ran through the names under her breath. “Barry, Emily, Lena, Terry, Harrison.” She couldn’t figure out who MO was. “MO?”
Barry chuckled. “You’re missing Mrs. Owens,” he said, nudging Lena playfully.
Mrs. Owens couldn’t help but laugh. “Prancing BELMOTH… It does have a nice ring to it.”
Chapter Fifteen
The tunnels of London seemed to stretch on forever. Mrs. Owens confidently led the group down the winding paths that created a maze beneath the city. She’d spent many hours studying the tunnels and preparing herself for the very situation they were in.
Barry stared at the ceiling in the low light. The roughly cut stones had jagged edges. “So, Mrs. Owens,” he asked, curious about the unknown tunnels, “do these tunnels run underneath the tubes above?” He sped up his walking speed to keep up with the quickly paced prime minister.
Mrs. Owens thought for a moment. “Well,” she said with hesitation. She wasn’t entirely sure where they were compared to the underground. She knew nothing about the make, only that they existed.
Sergeant Turner picked up his pace when hearing the conversation at the front of the group. “Barry, they run underneath the underground mostly. Some of these tunnels are really just abandoned tube stops.” He remembered the crashed tube that was left untouched underneath Chipping Norton.
Barry bit his lip gently as he studied the handiwork of the underground more. “When were they built?” he asked.
Sergeant Turner chuckled to himself. He’d always had an interest in the underground tunnels, but he’d never met anyone else who shared that quality. “Curious, aren’t you?” he said jokingly.
Barry nodded excitedly. The complex system of escape tunnels interested him. He’d never thought about the entire underground of London being a maze of escape routes, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He remembered learning about Downing Street and the massive underground bunker installed during the Second World War. He had no idea it led to the maze he was in.
“They were built around the 1940s,” Sergeant Turner said to Barry. “When the war was raging, they built bunkers below ground for people to stay in so they wouldn’t get hurt during the bombings.” He spoke as loudly as he dared. The tunnels echoed every small sound, and he didn’t want to attract any more zombies as he had before.
“Oh, like the big bunker underneath Downing Street?” Barry said, interrupting the sergeant’s train of thought.
He paused, stroking his chin. “Yes, exactly like that. The separate bunkers worked for a while, until Britain realized the sheer power of Hitler’s armies.”
Barry followed the sergeant. It had started to make sense to him.
“No one really knows how large his armies were,” the sergeant told Barry, unsure how much Barry knew about the war. He wanted to be as detailed as possible.
Barry nodded along. “Wait, no one knew how large… whose armies were?” he asked.
The sergeant smiled slightly, cutting his pace so he could talk and walk without getting badly out of breath. He hadn’t been on a full mission for years, and—werewolf or not—his legs weren’t used to that amount of walking. “The Nazi armies,” he clarified. “The armies Hitler commanded. No one was really prepared for it.”
“Oh, okay. I understand now. Go on,” Barry told the sergeant.
Sergeant Turner cleared his throat. “So, the bunkers worked, but there wasn’t any way to communicate between the two. The main priority was between Buckingham Palace and Downing Street. The communication between the prime minister and the queen was important.” He stopped, thinking. “Wait… It was a king at the time during the war.”
Barry shrugged. “Yeah, I think so. I watched that movie about Victoria and Abdul, but that’s about all I really know about the monarchy,” he muttered.
Sergeant Turner took a moment to digest his words. “Oh, yes. I liked that movie, except the end made me cry.” He paused, regretting mentioning that he cries at movies. Only Lena knew that.
Barry said nothing. He didn’t even look at the sergeant. He didn’t mind that the sergeant cried at movies. Barry did, too. He hated to admit it.
The silence was awkward, and the sergeant coughed uneasily to break it before continuing his history lesson. “Well, yes. So, anyway, as I was saying…” He stumbled over his words. “They needed a way to communicate, but it wasn’t easy. So, some old guy who had been a prisoner of war decided that a tunnel could work. His theory was, if he could tunnel out of Dachau, then surely, some form of a tunnel could be dug between Buckingham and Downing Street.”
Barry raised his eyebrows slightly. “But no one dug out of Dachau, did they?” he asked. He hadn’t heard anything about anyone digging out of concentration camps.
The sergeant shrugged slightly. “I don’t think so, but the historical facts are hazy. People have argued over it for years now,” he replied.
The tunnel they walked in opened into a larger room. The dirt floor suddenly turned to smooth cement of an underground platform. A faded yellow line with scratched yellow lettering spelling “PLEASE MIND THE GAP” lined the far end.
Mrs. Owens whistled under her breath at the sight of the abandoned tube station. “So, they are real!” she said, gasping at the station.
Lena knelt low on the edge of the platform. Thick electric lines laid on the ground, but no electricity surged through them. The lines were dead.
Barry looked at the sergeant. “So, did they dig the tunnel?” he asked, still curious of the makeup of the tunnels.
The sergeant nodded towards Barry. “Yes, they built the tunnel between Buckingham Palace and Downing Street. After a time, they dug the rest of the tunnels,” he told Barry.
Lena continued to study the tube tracks. They led to an unknown blackness. There weren’t any sounds coming from the lines connecting to the actual tube network, but she didn’t want to run any risks.
Emily crouched beside her. “Lena, I don’t mean to be a bother, but…” She waved her hands towards the open expanse at the end of the platform. “Look over there,” she instructed, hoping she wasn’t the only one to see him.
Lena studied the area intensely. At first, nothing there except a dark space that led nowhere. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, allowing her to see a man standing hunched over with a long cane and a heavy cloak. He was fresh from the storybooks; ominous, reserved, and withdrawn. His hat perched lopsidedly on his large head, his shabby suit looking tired and older than time itself.
Emily looked to Lena for guidance. The cloaked man creeped her out. “What are we going to do?” she asked softly. She didn’t want to make any noise in case the man heard.
Lena slowly tiptoed towards the edge of the platform. She looked closer at the man in the darkness and saw he held a tablet. He didn’t seem to notice the group at all, but she knew if she looked at the tablet, she’d see a swarm of red dots on it. More zombies would soon come.
Emily moved quietly to Lena’s side. The two watched as he focused on the tablet, flicking his fingers casually. His movements were smooth and calculated. He was like the phantom of the London Underground.
Lena inhaled deeply through her nose. She had learned in the army that breathing through the nose made less noise. “Wait,” she said as loudly as she dared, inhaling again. “Do you smell—” She inhaled a third time just to be sure.
Emily inhaled deeply. She could smell it, too. It was an unmistakable scent, one she had smelled before.
Lena looked at Emily. “You smell it, don’t you?” she said, worried slightly.
&nbs
p; “It’s the smell of…” Emily started.
“Oranges…” they said together, turning their focus back down the tunnel to where the man stood.
The phantom of the London Underground finally had a name. He was Roy. Somehow, the man had gotten away and made it all the way there. Of course, Lena couldn’t say she was surprised. He was a slime ball, one capable of many terrible things. She only wished they’d left him guarded better.
Lena glanced around the platform at the group. Barry and Sergeant Turner silently stood beside each other like statues. Harrison shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. He gripped his weapons nervously, and he wanted to get out of the tunnels quickly. Mrs. Owens sat with her back and head leaned against the wall. She breathed heavily and forced back tears with every inhale.
Lena finally glanced at Emily, the brave flight attendant. “He’s the one controlling the zombies. I just don’t know where those zombies are.”
Emily stared at her feet. She felt out of place, and the man made her feel even more so. She didn’t know how to deal with him.
Lena gestured the sergeant over. She knew her father would know exactly what to do. “Here, come here!” she hissed at him, bringing her hand towards her chest.
Sergeant Turner took his time moving across the platform. “What is it? We should be going.”
Lena agreed. “Yes, I’m aware of that, but… look at him,” she told her father, pointing down the tube lines to where the man stood.
Sergeant Turner craned his neck down the darkened tunnel. He couldn’t see anything, and he waited until his eyes had adjusted before moving away from the tunnel. Still, there was nothing lurking in the long and winding darkness.
Lena waited for him to notice Roy. She waited for him to tell her that she was right, and they should go on a well thought out plan to beat the creepy orange scented man. Sergeant Turner remained where he was, unmoving and not saying a word. Lena grew impatient.
Pandemic Z | Book 3 | Pandemic Z 3 Page 13