Meadowside

  “I found them,” Kylie said, putting the rolls of gaffer tape down on the workbench.

  Tom nodded, then picked up the axe and held its short wooden handle overlapping the end of the broom handle. “Wrap some tape around these for me.”

  Kylie picked up a roll of gaffer tape and removed its cellophane packaging with her teeth. She pulled out a long strip and wound it around the axe, securing it to the broom handle. Tom took the roll from her and finished the job, wrapping it around the full length of the axe’s handle several times until it was completely covered. He wiggled the axe’s blade, then seemingly satisfied it was securely attached he swished it through the air. He picked up the carving knife and held it in place at the opposite end of the broom handle while Kylie wrapped more gaffer tape around it.

  Kylie looked at the finished weapon while Tom practiced with it. She had seen something very similar in the Armouries Museum in Leeds on a school trip, and guessed that was where Tom had got the idea from. She couldn’t remember what it was called, but it looked deadly.

  “We need to make something for you too,” Tom said, putting the weapon down on the workbench.

  Kylie nodded. She still didn’t know if she would be able to use anything like that herself, but she didn’t want to be left defenceless against the crazies. Tom handed her the golf club and she held it grimly while he grabbed another carving knife and taped it to the club’s head so that it stuck out like the grim reaper’s scythe.

  Tom downloaded the Meadowside App on his phone, and Kylie peered over his shoulder while he consulted a list of shops displayed by category. He narrowed it down to major stores only, and brought up a map showing a suggested shopping route with each store marked with a red dot.

  “We’re here,” he said, pointing at the DIY shop on the map, “so it looks like House of Fraser is the nearest. We’ll start there and work our way round.”

  Kylie nodded and they left the shop together. She looked over the balcony as they passed the escalator, and saw crazies slipping and sliding on the blood-drenched steps. Others were climbing over them, just as they had done when the escalator was moving. She hoped the tables at the top would stop them from spilling over onto the upper floor, but that seemed unlikely. Once the top of the escalator was full of writhing bodies again they would be able to climb over easily. She pointed this out to Tom, but he told her not to worry about it.

  “It’ll take them hours to get that high,” he said. “With a bit of luck they’ll just give up, but if they don’t we can throw another statue down at them.”

  Kylie nodded, hoping it would be that easy.

  When they reached House of Fraser Tom reached up with the broom handle and hooked the corner of the axe onto the rolled up shutters above the door. He pulled them down and Kylie crouched down to slide bolts into place to hold them secure.

  “We need some padlocks for the bolts,” Kylie said.

  Tom was reaching up, trying to hook the shutters over the display window. He shook his head without looking down. “They’ll be okay as they are, we need to stop people getting out, not getting in.”

  “What if there’s someone trapped in there?”

  Tom grunted as he pulled down the shutter. “They would have come out when they heard that copper.” He bent down and fastened one of the bolts while Kylie walked to the opposite side and fastened the other. “Don’t worry about anyone else, we’ve got enough to deal with ourselves.”

  “But what about the people still trapped down there?”

  Tom didn’t reply. He shook his head and looked down at his phone. “Come on, let’s go. The next one’s down this way.”

  They had to cross an intersection to reach Marks and Spencer, where the upper floor branched off in three different directions. Tom checked the map on his phone and took them right. They passed a lift shaft, the lift itself stuck on the ground floor. The remains of eviscerated bodies lay strewn around its open door, the glass walls spattered with blood. But of the crazies who were responsible there was no sign until they rounded another corner into another section of the shopping centre.

  They heard the shouting first, and it took Kylie a few seconds to locate where it was coming from. She looked down over the balcony, saw dozens of crazies crowded around the opening to a stairway. The shouting was coming from somewhere out of sight, but could only be from the stairway itself.

  “Fuck,” Tom said, running toward the sound. “Come on.”

  Kylie wanted to get away from there, but she couldn’t leave on her own, so she followed Tom with the golf club held grimly before her. They reached the stairway just as three men backed out of it. Kylie couldn’t be sure, they were unrecognisable under a thick coating of blood and gore, but from the garden tools they carried she assumed they were the same men they had met at the escalator. One had obviously fallen victim to the crazies since then, most likely on the stairway. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of what had happened to him.

  Two of the men held a garden rake horizontally between them across the stairway opening, trying to hold back the snarling crazies crowded up against it, while the other hacked and slashed with an axe. Tom rushed toward them, swinging his own axe over his shoulder. He swung it down into the crazies again and again, slicing through outstretched arms, shattering through skulls, showering himself in spurts of blood.

  But the crazies were too strong, too numerous to be held back. Inch by inch, the men with the rake were pushed back as more crazies swarmed up the stairs and joined in the scrum. Tom and the other man were forced to step back so they could maintain their attack on the front line, but for every crazy that fell, more climbed over their bodies and took their place.

  The gap between the stairway and the garden rake increased under the combined weight of the crazies, until it was big enough for a few to squeeze out either side. Tom jabbed one in the eye with the carving knife taped to the end of his broom handle, then ripped it out and swung the axe at the opposite end into the face of another. The man with the axe backed away toward Kylie, slashing wildly at the crazies approaching him.

  One of the men with the rake stumbled and fell backwards. Crazies swarmed over him and he screamed pitifully while the other man wrenched the rake away and swung it at the legs of the crazies before him, bowling them over like snarling skittles. The fallen man stopped screaming. More crazies swarmed out of the stairway, blocking Kylie’s view of Tom. She could hear him shouting, telling her to get the fuck out of there, but she couldn’t see where he was. All she could see were the crazies heading toward her, the man slashing at them with his axe doing little to halt their progress.

  The man with the rake screamed, surrounded by crazies who got too close for him to bat away. One bit into his cheek and shook its head like a dog until the flesh ripped free. The man fell to his knees, still screaming as others bit into his shoulders, neck and back. One chewed off the fingers of the hands he held before him in a futile attempt to protect himself. Another grabbed his hair and pulled him down. He continued screaming as they swarmed over him, fighting amongst themselves for prime position around his body, until he gave out a final gurgling cry and lay silent as they tore him apart.

  “Run!” the man with the axe shouted.

  Kylie blinked, unable to take her eyes off the crazies fighting over the remains of the man with the rake. One held up a severed arm triumphantly, dripping blood from a ragged tear where it had been ripped from its socket. Another crazy tried to take it from him and they lashed out at each other with claw-like fingers.

  “Tom!” Kylie yelled. She backed away as the crazies got closer. “Tom! Where are you?”

  The man with the axe glanced over his shoulder at Kylie. “Fucking run!” he shouted.

  His momentary break in concentration cost him his life. A crazy lurched forward and grabbed the axe handle just as he was about to swing it. He struggled against the crazy’s grip but was held tight as others advanced and took hold of him. He kicked out at their legs, tried to twi
st himself free, but there were too many.

  “Run!” he shouted again as they pulled him to the ground.

  Kylie backed away, tears streaming down her face as she watched the crazies’ feeding frenzy. Her legs felt like jelly, unable to support her. She reached out for the balcony to steady herself as she continued backpedalling, then turned and ran when the crazies turned their attention to her. She could hear them lumbering after her, dozens of heavy footsteps clumping over the wooden flooring, but didn’t dare look to see how close they were. They hissed and snarled after her, as if they were commanding her to stop.

  She tripped and fell, landing heavily on her hands and knees as the golf club clattered away from her. She scrabbled after it and grabbed it in one hand, then stumbled to her feet and swung it at one of the crazies that was only a few feet away from her. The blade on the end of the golf club sliced into an outstretched arm, but didn’t slow the crazy’s approach. He snarled and reached out for her, blood pumping from the wound. Kylie slashed the blade down into his face, cutting through his top lip and into his mouth. He gurgled, blood gushing from his mouth as Kylie ripped the blade free and turned to run.

  Before she could take a step, the man grabbed the back of Kylie’s tracksuit top and held her in place at arm’s length. Kylie twisted in his grip and lashed out with the golf club, felt the jarring impact in her wrist as it struck home and punctured the man’s lung. She tugged it back, felt the blade tearing through his flesh as she struggled to free herself. The man clung on triumphantly, defiantly, blood pouring down his side, his breath coming in a gurgling rasp.

  Kylie cried out when she saw how close the other crazies were, and renewed her frenzied attempt to escape the man’s clutches. She stamped down on his foot and hit him in the side of the head with the golf club. It was only when the other crazies arrived and attacked him that he let go of Kylie. She stumbled and fell forward, released unexpectedly from the force she had been struggling against. She rolled over and looked up. Snarling crazies lunged forward with their hands outstretched, their bloodshot eyes wide and staring, their mouths hanging open. Kylie could smell the fresh kills on their breath as they descended on her. She curled herself into a ball and sobbed into her hands while she waited for them to tear her apart.

  13

  Kylie felt rough hands digging into her back, tugging at her clothing. The crazies snarled and hissed, lashed out at each other as they fought over her. Sharp fingernails raked over her arms, burning them in searing pain. Kylie screamed and clutched her face tighter, tucked her knees under her elbows. A crazy balled its fists around her hair and pulled back savagely, dragging Kylie across the wooden flooring a few inches, her body rigid and unresponsive, until the hair tore from her scalp. Kylie closed her eyes and screwed her face up in pain, her screams louder.

  Somewhere in the distance she heard a scooter being revved, like the one Dave Sugden had stolen once and taken everyone for a ride around the council estate on before he set fire to it in the middle of the playground. But that couldn’t be right. They didn’t allow motorcycles in the Meadowside Shopping Centre, and all the doors were locked so nobody could have brought one in. It had to be her imagination, her mind playing tricks on her. And yet she could still hear the scooter, drowning out the snarls of the crazies as it came closer, the roar of its engine becoming louder and louder, until it was almost on top of her.

  Something wet and warm splashed over Kylie’s face and arms. Something small and light hit the back of her head with a soft thud, then fell away. Something heavy slumped on top of her and crushed the breath from her lungs. Kylie squirmed beneath it while the scooter circled her, its two-stroke engine howling in protest, drowning out the snarls of the crazies. Then with a final rev, the scooter’s engine idled to a steady put-put-put. The dead weight was dragged from her. A hand grasped her wrist. Kylie whimpered and struggled as her hand was pulled away from her face. A crazy stood over her, grinning down. Drenched in dripping blood, he held a chainsaw by his side in one hand.

  “Are you bit?” the crazy asked. Kylie cowered away, struggling against his grip. “Are you fucking bit?” the crazy shouted. He released Kylie’s wrist and raised the chainsaw. Its spinning blades flicked blood into Kylie’s face as it moved closer.

  “No!” Kylie shouted, covering her face with her hands. “No I haven’t!”

  The crazy lowered the chainsaw and grunted. He held out a hand to her. “I’m Smiffy,” he said. “What’s your name, kid?”

  Kylie flinched and shuffled herself away from the man. She realised she was lying in a huge pool of blood, and sat up quickly. The scattered remains of dismembered and decapitated crazies lay all around her. She looked up at the man standing before her, who was still holding out a hand to help her up. Piercing white eyes stood out from his blood-drenched face. Small patches of yellow could be seen on his dark red shirt. He seemed to be wearing shorts, but from all the blood and gore that covered them it was difficult to make out where the shorts ended and his legs began. She clasped the man’s hand and allowed him to pull her upright.

  “What’s your name, kid?” the man – Smiffy – said again.

  Kylie felt her knees buckle. Smiffy grabbed her around the waist and held her upright.

  “Tom,” Kylie said quietly, staring at a severed arm by her feet.

  “You what?” Smiffy asked.

  Kylie stared into Smiffy’s eyes. “Where’s Tom?”

  “Who’s Tom?”

  “He’s my … my boyfriend.”

  Smiffy frowned, then shook his head. “Sorry kid, there was just you when I got here. The zombies must have got him.”

  “Zombies?” Kylie had heard several people refer to them as zombies now. Was that really what they were? Had they killed Tom? Eaten him? Kylie didn’t want to accept that. He must have got away, killed them with his axe. But why hadn’t he returned for her when she was in trouble? Tom wouldn’t have just left her to die like that.

  “Yeah, zombies. Fucking mental or what? But that’s what they are, all right. Shoot them in the fucking head, yeah? Like in the movies, except we ain’t got no fucking guns like them Yank bastards in the movies.” Smiffy raised his chainsaw and smiled at it. “So we need to use shit like this, yeah? Fucking smart or what? You just shove it in their faces and it rips them to fucking bits. You were lucky I needed some extra fuel for it, otherwise I wouldn’t have been up here getting some when I heard you shouting. What I wouldn’t have give to have one of these at the match when we were fighting the fucking CBeebies, it’s fucking loads better than Stonker’s Stanley. That’d teach them fucking Chelterton bastards for trolling our fucking Facebook page, all right. I’d be a fucking legend.”

  Kylie could hear the man’s words, but little of what he said made any sense. She knew what CBeebies and Facebook were, but she had never seen either of them. She was too old for watching CBeebies, and Facebook needed either a computer or a phone, neither of which she had ever owned and probably never would. And what did they have to do with what was happening anyway? She thought about the zombie movies she’d seen recently. One of them had Paddy, the vet from Emmerdale, in it. The zombies in that had been similar to the crazies attacking Meadowside, except they barked like dogs and moved a lot faster. Could that really be what they were? Zombies?

  “Wait,” Kylie said, suddenly thinking of Britney, “why did you ask if I’d been bitten?”

  “If you get bit by a zombie, you turn into a zombie. Every fucker knows that.”

  “But my friend didn’t. She just went yellow, then passed out for an hour or so. When she came round she was okay again.”

  Smiffy shrugged. “Yeah well, it probably takes a while for them to change. But she will, sooner or later, then she’ll start chewing down on whoever’s nearest to her at the time. Then they’ll turn into zombies too. That’s how it works. Don’t you know nothing?”

  Kylie thought about all those people locked up with Britney in the play area. About the other people in there wit
h similar injuries. She hoped what Smiffy was telling her wasn’t true, otherwise they would all be dead by now.

  “Well,” Smiffy said, turning away, “much as I’d like to stand here chatting all day, there’s something I need to do. You’d best get yourself somewhere safe before the zombies get you. And if your mate’s been bit, stay the fuck away from her.”

  “What?” Kylie said. “No, wait. You can’t leave me here by myself.”

  Smiffy shrugged as he walked away. “Like I said, I’ve got something I need to do. You can tag along if you like, I’m not fussed either way. Just don’t get under my feet, and keep quiet so you don’t attract too many fucking zombies.”

  Kylie watched Smiffy walk toward the stairs. She looked around for her golf club and picked it up before hurrying after him, stepping gingerly over the mutilated corpses at her feet. Smiffy paused at the bend in the stairway and peered around the corner before continuing down, the chainsaw giving out a steady put-put-put by his side. A lone crazy hissed at him when he emerged from the stairway, blood dripping from its chin down its Argyle jumper. Smiffy smiled and gestured the crazy forward with his fingers.

  “Come on then, you fucking cunt. Let’s fucking have it.”

  Smiffy waited until the crazy was almost upon him before he raised the chainsaw. He pulled the trigger and thrust the blades up between the crazy’s grasping hands, burying the end in its chest. Smiffy laughed as the crazy flailed its arms, still reaching desperately to grab hold of him. He pulled out the chainsaw and lopped off both the crazy’s hands, one after the other, then crouched down and swung the chainsaw at its right leg, just below the knee. The chainsaw screeched as it hit bone, then cut through.

  “Timber!” Smiffy shouted as the crazy toppled sideways and fell.

  He walked up to the crazy and kicked it in the head when it tried to roll over, sending it spinning onto its back. The crazy thrashed its arms, blood flying in all directions from the ragged stumps where its hands used to be. Smiffy turned to Kylie and nodded.