Undead at Heart

by Calum Kerr

  A large dark-haired man and a much smaller, rounded blonde woman were standing behind the bar. In front of it, his hand raised, finger accusing, in the middle of making a serious point was an older man with a shrew-faced woman next to him. Beyond them, perched at the bar were a young couple. She was holding a babe in arms, cooing to it. Two men in builder’s garb were beyond them, and then finally were what looked like the chef and the waitress for the pub’s restaurant.

  Tony raised his hand at all the eyes staring at him. “Erm… hello?”

  “Ah good, someone who is bound to agree with me,” said the angry man at the bar. The woman Tony presumed was his wife nodded, while the others rolled their eyes. The man who appeared to be the landlord simply sighed.

  “Don’t give me that, Alan,” said the man in answer to the sigh. “You know I’m right, you just don’t want to admit it.”

  “I’ve told you once, Bert, and I’ll tell you again. The power might have gone, but that is not a reason for me to give you a free drink.”

  “Yes, it is. You’ve already told me that I can’t have my sticky toffee pudding and custard because you need electricity to cook it. And, I might add, you advertise it as home-cooked and now I find out that you microwave it.”

  Now it was the turn of the blonde woman – the landlady, Tony guessed – to sigh. “I do cook it myself, but then we chill it and heat it up again as it’s needed in the micr-.”

  Bert cut her off. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you advertise this dish as available and now it’s not, so you should give me some kind of recompense. And what I want is another pint.”

  “And I don’t care what you want. I’ve told you about that too. The drinks are pumped from the cellar using an electric pump, so we can’t do that either! If you want a drink you can have anything we have in a bottle or can. But-,” Alan continued even as Bert tried to interrupt him, “- BUT, you will have to pay for it. You can have another of our desserts. All the ice-creams are still available, at least until they melt. But the pudding is off!”

  Bert mumbled something which sounded very rude under his breath and turned an appealing eye to Tony.

  “Come on in, lad. You can tell him. Surely you can see that I’m right!”

  Tony just looked around the room as every eye looked to him for his verdict. He thought of all that had happened to him in such a short while, and how normal this new situation seemed, and didn’t have a clue what to say.

  Sixteen

  Despite the hobbling of the still-wounded, the group emerged from the Centre’s woodland trail much faster than they’d entered it. Having shouted the retreat, Nicola had stolen the march on them and was at their head as she plunged back into the forest. Alyssa was in her arms once again but was no longer quiet. When her mother had shouted and snatched her up she had started wailing and hadn’t stopped as her mother had bounced her down the path.

  With no real thought for direction, just a desire to move away from the sounds of destruction which were still creeping nearer, she led the ragged band through the woods. She heard the cries of people stumbling and falling behind her, but she didn’t turn and she didn’t stop. Despite all that had happened this afternoon, she had managed to keep her head. Until now. This was panic in all its raging glory and she was giving it full rein. She hadn’t wanted to be their ‘leader’, but she had taken on the role because everyone expected her to. Like so many things in her life, the expectation of others had over-ridden her own wishes and desires. But all that was forgotten now and she simply ran, to protect herself and to protect her daughter.

  She stumbled and fell more than once, but each time she twisted, cat-like, to land on her back, and then with a roll she was up on her knees, Alyssa still in her arms, and then she was on her feet and running.

  The noise of the beams churning the earth stopped, but Nicola carried on running. Alyssa’s wailing finally calmed to breathy sobs, but Nicola kept on running. The noise of the others following her started to fade, but she kept on running.

  She didn’t stop until the canopy of the forest disappeared from over her and she found herself wading into a field of some kind of grain. The combination of the sudden shocking light and the impediment of the crops brought her shuddering to a stop and crashing to her knees. Alyssa struggled from her arms, seemingly wanting to get away from this crazy woman who had replaced her mother, but she didn’t run off, simply stood and watched, panting, as her mother started to sob into hands which she had raised to cover her face.

  Nicola did not stay there very long. Her worries of death and destruction raining once more from the skies – especially in this exposed location – were too pressing. They brought her back to herself and lifted her once more from her knees to her feet.

  Alyssa was looking at her, concerned. “Are you okay, mummy?”

  Nicola thought for a moment, but not for the first time, how strange it was to hear that English word, ‘mummy’, coming from the mouth of the child who had first called her ‘mom’. Alyssa had taken to England and its version of her language much faster than Nicola could ever have expected. She had already lost almost all traces of an American accent, and Nicola knew that she would grow up sounding distinctly different to her mother. She guessed it was another reason why she sometimes felt alienated from her own child. But nothing could have been more distant now. She had almost been playing along and performing a role up until now, but all of a sudden this six year old child and her safety were the most important things in her world. She wanted time to savour this, to remember that this should have been her priority all along, but knew that any analysing would have to wait for later.

  She heard noises behind her and turned. It was Stan, wading through the corn, with Dave a little way behind, and a handful of the others. She could see one or two more at the edge of the trees, but that was all. Suddenly, the guilt of her sudden flight hit her as well. The weight of all her responsibilities threatened to crush her, but she knew she couldn’t let them, so she took a deep breath and buried them for the moment. There would be a reckoning later, but that was later.

  “Sorry about that. Did everyone make it?” she asked Stan.

  He nodded. “Yes, I think so. A few with burned legs or feet are taking a little longer, but I don’t think the flying saucers, or whatever the fuck they were, came anywhere close to us in the end. It just sounded like it.”

  “It sure did,” was her response, and she was amazed to hear a small laugh escape her mouth.

  “Sounded like a mountain crashing towards us, eh?” Stan was also laughing. She could tell from his expression that he was as incredulous at his mirth as she had been. She guessed this was what adrenaline come-down felt like.

  “A whole range!”

  “A continent!”

  The others were gathering around them now, watching them laugh. Some joined in and some just looked baffled or a little hurt, but Nicola couldn’t stop. She laughed hard, on the verge of tears, on the verge of screaming, until she was suddenly brought back to herself, and back to sanity, by a small warm hand pressing into hers.

  She looked down into Alyssa’s now calm blue eyes. “It’s okay, Mummy. Everything will be okay.”

  Nicola felt a laugh threaten at the very serious way her daughter was talking to her, but fought it back. It was enough. Her daughter was okay. The band of strangers who were looking to her for salvation were okay. She would be okay.

  For the first time since emerging from the forest she looked around properly and saw, on the horizon, the top of a silo. Where there’s a silo, there’s a farm, she reasoned, and decided that should be their destination. If nothing else these people needed the security of walls and a roof. She couldn’t guarantee that a farm would provide much more, but she could at least try and give them that.

  Couldn’t be any worse than the last place, she thought, and felt another giggle threaten. She straightened her face and turned to the re-assembled group. She waited till they were looking at her, then
she turned and pointed to the horizon. She tried to think of stirring words to give them hope, but nothing came. So, in the end, she simply said, “Let’s try there,” and set off, walking slowly enough for everyone to keep up, half-leading and half-led by her daughter.

  Seventeen

  Sam watched Tony and waited for him to speak. He was frozen, his mouth slightly open, and she could see his eyes moving round the room, trying to find the words. Maybe, if she had been a more shallow person, she would have found this disappointing. She would have seen that he wasn’t the strong man that she had thought he was. But none of this crossed her mind. She was touched by his humanity, by his sensitive nature, and so she decided to come to his aid.

  “Well, I don’t know the answer to your argument,” she stepped forward, feeling self-conscious as all the eyes in the room turned to look at her, “but I could certainly do with a drink, even if it is from a bottle. And why don’t I buy one for Bert. In fact, why don’t I buy one for everyone?”

  She stepped up to the bar and placed her order of a vodka and diet coke, and the others started to follow suit, the argument utterly wiped away by a beautiful young woman buying a round for the them all. She glanced over and saw that Tony had regained a little of his composure, and had moved to the back of the group, waiting his turn to place his order. She smiled at him and he gave a weak smile in return.

  “She’s right,” he said.

  “Whoever’s buying is always right, lad. Don’t you know that?” Bert interrupted with a laugh.

  Tony gave him a flash of his teeth then continued. “She’s right. We all need a drink. I have a hell of a tale to tell you, and a little alcohol will just make it easier to hear.”

  He left them hanging at the end of his sentence and ordered a double Glenfiddich. Sam smiled more broadly at him, though he wasn’t looking at her. She knew he just needed a moment, a guiding hand, and was glad she had been able to help him.

  A few minutes later, with everyone gathered around, glasses in hand, Tony started to tell the tale. He had lifted himself up to sit on a table, to get a little height over the rest who had each drawn up a chair. Sam perched on a stool by the side of his table, looking up at him from time to time and occasionally nodding and meeting the audience’s eyes to confirm the truth of what he was saying.

  He told them about the helicopter crashing and the truck flying onto the road. She was impressed with his description of how he’d skidded to a halt in the nick of time and leapt from his car. He dismissed Nicola as a ‘typical glory-seeking American’ who had tried to save him when he didn’t need it and who he had had to rescue in return.

  He told them about the frying of the electrics and how he’d realised it was an EMP. And he described the arrival of the jets and the exploding crop-field, the exodus into the forest and the way in which he and Sam had been abandoned by the ‘unfeeling’ others. He didn’t mention Bob and Janet, and some of the things he said weren’t quite as she remembered them, but she was sure she’d just got it wrong. It certainly made for an exciting story and Sam realised just how much she owed this man: her life for one thing.

  When he finished his story with their arrival at the pub, his audience looked at him, stunned. She looked up and he was nodding sagely at them, to tell them it was true. She turned to face them too, and copied his action.

  The man called Alan, who had introduced himself to her as the landlord, was the first to break the silence with a laugh. He was on his own and it soon petered out. He looked around at the others.

  “What?” His voice was high-pitched with incredulity. “You don’t actually believe that codswallop do y-.” He stopped, watching Bert reach into his pocket, take out a packet of small cigars, take one from the pack and light one. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice, if anything, even higher. “You know there’s no smoking in here!”

  Bert drew on the cigar and puffed out the smoke with a satisfied grunt. He waved it in front of him, indicating Tony. “If what the lad told us, it doesn’t matter. No point worrying about lung cancer when it’s the end of the world.”

  Alan laughed again, though this time it sounded strange. He looked round the group, appealing to them. “Come off it, Bert. You can’t possibly buy this hogwash?”

  Bert nodded, taking another puff of his cigar before holding it up in front of Alan. “I was outside having one of these. I saw those same helicopters flying over. Three of them. About a half hour ago. Just before the lights went out.”

  “What, but… but…”

  “It would explain all that noise we’ve been hearing, too,” said one of the builders. Dan, Sam seemed to remember he’d said his name was. “I know you said it was empty lorries on the main road, but I haven’t really heard any traffic for ages.”

  “That’s right,” said his younger colleague. Sam definitely remembered his name. He was Darren. His skin was extra dark in the lightless pub, but his smile was still bright. “And with the music and fridges and everything else off, we should be able to.”

  Everyone went still and listened, trying to hear anything from the road, but there was silence. Sam could make out some bird song, and that was all. She felt a shiver run up her back and from the looks of the others she wasn’t the only one to be a bit spooked.

  They all turned back to look at Tony, who she saw was waiting expectantly. He raised his eyebrows. “After all, why would I make something like that up? Do I look like some kind of fantasist? Some kind of sci-fi geek?”

  “Well, you did know about that EPM thingy,” Dan pointed out.

  “EMP,” corrected Tony, realising that he was harming his case in doing so, but unable to stop himself. “And everyone knows about that. It was in that film.”

  “That’s right, Dan, it was.”

  Sam gave Darren an extra bright smile and he gave a surprised one back. She turned back to Tony and saw him looking between her and the young builder with a dark question in his eyes. She blushed a little and smiled even more widely for him.

  “Well, then…” Alan broke the silence which followed this exchange. “If you’re not a geek, and you’re not a fantasist, then what the hell do we do now?”

  “Personally, I could do with another drink,” answered Bert, raising a laugh from the company.

  “Yes,” agreed Tony. “I think that’s probably a good idea. Another drink and then we work out what to do next. We came here looking for help, shelter, and maybe a radio or a phone so we could find out what’s going on. Obviously we haven’t come far enough, but I’m guessing at least one of you knows the area well enough to lead us away from here, and away from whatever’s happening up the road, until maybe we can find something.”

  “Aye,” said Bert. Sam was finding his thick northern accent rather soothing, as though at any moment he would give her a boiled sweet and ruffle her hair. “Me and the missus walk all round here after our lunches. There’s a path out the back which leads southeast from here. It’ll take us to the Dyson farm and, if that ain’t far enough, we can head down the road to the village. That should do us.”

  Tony nodded. “Good. That sounds like a plan. We’ll have another drink and then we’ll set off. We should be safe here long enough for that,” he smiled around the group, pleased with himself, but none of them were listening any longer. While he’d been talking, he’d not been aware of the series of thumps that were growing steadily louder. Sam could feel the vibrations of the thumps through her stool, travelling up her spine. She turned in a full circle, trying to work out where they were coming from.

  Her question was soon answered when, with a loud crashing and rending noise, a huge metal rod, ending in a flat plate came crashing through the ceiling at the far end of the pub. It had broken through the roof and the upper floor and carried on down. It smashed through the floor and into the cellar beneath, trailing slates and plaster and splintered floor boards with it. She screamed and threw herself backwards under a table, taking cover. The others were scattering, even as the
monstrous metal pole ripped itself back up, out of the pub, and disappeared. No-one moved for a moment, then as a single group they all ran for the back of the pub, escaping the now-sunlit wreck of the bar for the unscathed conservatory and the car-park beyond. She emerged at the rear of the group, blinking in the bright sun, and shielded her eyes to see what they were all looking at. Striding away into the woods, in the direction from which she and Tony had originally come, was what looked like a giant metal spider. A central body the size of a small house, balanced on ten or twelve legs which sprouted from the sides at regular intervals. Each of its articulated legs ended in a flat plate.

  Doreen, Bert’s wife, gave out a shriek and fainted. Bert tried to catch her, but was too slow and she slumped to the ground. None of the others moved to help, they were all too busy watching the robotic shape disappearing into the distance. In fact, they were too busy even to notice the other one until it ripped down the remaining half of the pub with one of its legs and strode after its sibling.

  Eighteen

  Nicola led and Stan followed. He checked his watch but it had stopped along with everything else. He seemed to have been trekking across the countryside behind this woman for days.

  The crops, whatever they were, seemed only half-grown, and their green stalks parted easily as they waded through them, bending and shifting then springing back into place as they passed. The ground was soft underfoot, but easy to walk on. With the expanse of green field and the blue sky and the warm breeze it should have been a beautiful day. But, like the others, Stan couldn’t help hunching his shoulders against whatever might come from the skies next.

  The farm appeared quickly, the silo rising into the air above them as they walked, and the building, small in comparison, huddled next to it. Stan could see an array of sheds, barns and not one, but two houses. As they got closer he could see sheep milling and bleating in a pen next to one of the barns, and a couple of dogs wandered aimlessly in the yard. A tractor stood at the gate leading into the field adjacent to the one they were walking through, its engine silent.