by Haywood, RR
‘Fuck me! Why does everyone need a plan all of a sudden?’ Howie said. ‘Nick! Where’s the briefing?’
‘I’m not the briefing guy! I don’t bloody know. Just drive in and kill the cunts.’
‘Love it,’ Howie shouted, pushing off from Cookey’s face to fall on Nick. ‘Good plan, Nick!’
‘Best plan ever!’ Clarence shouted, still sprawled over Paula and Booker and pretty much everyone else.
‘And watch out for broken glass,’ Nick added to a chorus of squished and muffled laughs.
‘Right. Tappy!’ Howie called. ‘Drive in and kill the cunts.’
‘Got it,’ Tappy said. ‘Reggie! Where are they?’
‘In Petworth.’
‘She means where in Petworth you dick?’ Marcy asked.
Carmen
Then Marcy’s asking where in Petworth and calling Reggie a dick. But I think they have history. (In fact – I think Marcy infected Reginald.)
Anyway. So then Reginald was reeling off directions. ‘Oh. Yes. Roger that. Er, first left, then first right, then follow the road.’
And Henry was up front in our vehicle staring at the radio in his hand and waiting for the rest of the briefing and the essential information that any attacking force should know.
The numbers of opposition.
The entry and egress points.
The fall-back point.
The RVP or maybe even an FCP, or at the very least a muster point.
The objective. The plan of attack. The method. The system. The strategy. The tactics.
Anything.
Something.
But nothing.
‘They’re not going straight in are they?’ he asked, seeing the town ahead and the junction looming at them.
‘I think they are,’ Frank said.
‘Oh, and chaps!’ Reginald says. ‘Don’t shoot the big building in the middle. That’s where the survivors are hiding.’
‘What building?’ Henry asked, looking at Frank. ‘The middle of what?’ he asked as Frank shrugged.
Reginald
Ah! It was just what we needed. A jolly good ruck to get stuck into. Huzzah!
And I could hear all the goings on in the Saxon and I knew I was whipping Howie up, but sometimes things have to be pushed along otherwise they never get done. And what was the alternative? A gunfight at the O.K Corral between Sheriff Henry and Sheriff Howie?
No thank you.
Trust me. This is what they needed. And not just Howie, but blasted Henry too. He needed to see it. And not just from the top of a hill like he did at Hinchley Point but down in the guts of it with the blood and bullets. So yes. I was doing my damn best to whip them all up. That’s when they’re at their best. That’s when the magic happens.
‘Yes!’ I shouted into the radio. ‘Go on, Tappy! Get in there!’
I’d kept the drone up and could see the Saxon gain the centre of the road and could imagine Howie inside clambering over everyone else to get up through the hole in the roof. His face growing darker from the filthy violence bursting inside that needed to vent.
I could hear Maddox getting his rifle ready and glimpsed through to see Roy gripping the steering wheel a bit harder, because the adrenaline was flowing you see. The pre-fight energy was rising.
Then Tappy got onto a narrow olde-world road leading into the town centre.
I was watching it on the drone. Seeing the Saxon pass quaint shops and quaint stores constructed in quaint buildings. Old railings. Old windows and old doors. Black and white Tudor. Victorian and Edwardian. A place of history and prestige. A quiet village nestled in the southern English countryside. A place now filling with the roar of a mighty engine and the squeal of mighty tyres as Tappy took the first right into Saddlers Row.
Antique shops filled with old model sailing boats and spinning globes and the trinkets and things of a species now on the verge of extinction. Gifts shops. Coffee shops. The places of the living that are no more.
A few infected ahead. Late comers to the party hobbling, lurching and running along the street towards the centre.
‘GET ‘EM, TAPPY!’ Howie shouted from the top, clambering up and out onto the roof. A second passed. A second and no more as Tappy snarled and ran over an infected. Taking the first kill of Petworth.
The body rode up high into the windscreen then off to the side. Smashing through the window into the antique model yachts and the antique spinning globes.
More infected ahead. More taken down. Rammed aside. Driven over. Pulverised, crushed and killed.
A bend in the road to the left. A curve that led to the centre and the big building made from dark grey concrete in the middle. The windows boarded with thick planks. The infected gathered outside. Throwing themselves at the doors and starting to body-pile so they can climb up to the first-floor windows.
People were leaning out. The people that I knew were there. Screaming in horror. Firing farmer’s shotguns. Throwing pots and pans and furniture. Doing what they could as they snapped their heads up to the Saxon driving at them. Their faces showing the shock of seeing such a thing. At seeing Howie riding the top of the Saxon. His dark curly hair blowing in the wind. His face etched with pure fury as he spotted the horde and detonated the hive mind.
‘GO ON!’ I screamed and slammed my battle swatter on the desk as I was hit by the connection. Roy was the same. Grunting from the surge of power inside - and in that instant, we could feel each other. Blowers and Cookey. Booker and Mo Mo. Danny. Paula. Clarence. Marcy. Charlie. Tappy. Meredith. Roy, and even Jess hooving. All of their energies. All of them at once and above all else we could feel the staggering dark violence coming from Howie.
The Saxon mounted the steps outside the middle building. Tilting over as the solid front battered into the body-piling infected. Smashing the base out as the rest tumbled and dropped. Spinning through the air as they landed on each other and Tappy drove on. Powering along the building line to the corner. Clearing space and gaining ground.
‘BRAKE HARD TAPPY!’ Howie shouted. Tappy stamped down. Sending Howie flying off the top into the horde ahead. And what a thing to see! What a glorious idea and I have no doubt Howie was enjoying every second of it as he got amongst them to start bashing and boshing, or more likely, biting. Howie does bite them a lot.
But a split-second later and the back doors opened with the rest spilling out. Dave first and fastest. Dropping to turn and run towards Howie at the front. Drawing his pistol to shoot the infected going for Howie’s back.
Dave has told me how he thinks, and how he has glowing blooms of light showing in his mind as he tracks targets and feels the sway and tide of the horde. The way they move. The size of them. The numbers they have.
It’s what makes him such a devastating opponent, and in less than a second, three had already dropped from his pistol and he was drawing a blade to run in deep.
I should imagine the chaos of life was gone from his mind. The confusion of what people mean now simply not there as he gained a sense of completion inside. A sense of calm as he danced and moved as Howie swung out with his axe and started chopping them down.
The rest fought out too, and within that hive mind they knew Roy was releasing Jess, and we all felt that presence of pure strength as Jess ran into the fray. Aiming at Charlie who ran out to vault up. Landing in the saddle with her axe already spinning and the heads already popping.
The building in the middle was not a big building, but then, it wasn’t a big town and with everyone else fighting, Tappy drove the Saxon on. Scooping the infected away from the building line as the others hacked and cleaved the infected down. Firing rifles when they could aim away from the mock fortress in the centre.
Make no mistake about it. Because for all the bickering, arguing, chaos and constant messing about – this is where they excelled. At this. At these few moments of absolute pure savage violence where human forms were ripped apart.
Where bones showed white through bloodied limbs and innards fell to glisten in the s
un. Where they attacked with such force the blood of the infected rained down upon them and ran into streams and puddles that steamed in the heat, and the air filled with the tang of iron and shit. With piss and death.
It was only a short fight in truth. And it ended as quickly as it began, and that building in the middle soon stood like an island in a sea of bodies – but the team needed it. Howie needed it.
I could see him dripping with blood. His face darker than ever. His eyes blazing with energy. All of them were the same. Flushed and sweating and still filled with the lust for blood. The jokes gone. The humour not there and of their normal foolishness there was no trace.
Henry stood by the open door of the SUV. His team behind him. Not a shot fired from them. Not an action taken, and they stared out to the violence. Carmen and Frank saw it the day before at Hinchley Point. Joan saw it in the fort, and Bashir had seen death and violence in all forms, and Henry had done more than all of them.
But even so.
It brought them to silence as Roy lowered his bow from the top of the van. His feet planted apart and Jess turned with a snort. Popping skulls while the dog dropped from the Saxon and savaged the neck of an infected still clinging to life. Tearing the throat out.
That’s when I made my exit from the van. Dropping out into heat with my battle swatter in my hand. ‘Where is it?’ I asked.
‘Where’s what?’ Howie replied. His voice was low and rasping.
‘The CP?’ I asked, holding my swatter out. ‘We were here for the control point. Remember?’ Of course, I knew there was no CP there. I’m not stupid. You have to tell Howie and the others a million times if you want anything left alive, and even then there’s only a slight chance they’ll remember. But I needed Henry to hear me asking. That was the point.
‘Oh,’ Howie said, his eyes losing the fury. ‘Right. Er. Did anyone see the control point?’
‘Hello?’ someone called from a window above them.
‘Hi!’ Howie said. ‘Er. Don’t suppose you saw a talking zombie by any chance, did you?’
‘I er, I don’t think we did, sorry,’ the man said with an apologetic wince. ‘We didn’t know to look for one though,’ he added as Howie and the others all looked about at the very dead infected in case any of them might look like a CP. ‘Are you Mr Howie?’ the man asked after a quick whispered conflab with other people inside.
‘I am,’ Howie said as Frank and Carmen shared a look while Joan smiled wryly at Henry’s expression.
‘Thank god. We kept hoping you’d come,’ the man said from the window. ‘They’ve been going past for a few days. We stayed quiet but they must have heard us and started trying to get in. We were about to… You know… Get some morphine into the kiddies,’ he added in a whisper. ‘Stop ‘em turning.’
‘Be careful giving morphine to kids,’ Roy called up. ‘They can OD very easily on something that strong.’
‘I think that was the point,’ Paula said quietly as Roy realised what the man meant and nodded.
‘Is anyone hurt?’ Roy asked. ‘Do you need medical aid?’
‘Have you got food?’ Paula asks. ‘We’ve got some supplies we can leave you.’
‘We’re okay,’ the man said, his voice choking off with a quiet sob. ‘But thank you. We didn’t believe. I mean. I didn’t believe… I said you were made up or…’ he fell silent again, wiping his eyes as people crowded into the windows to look down. Pale and drawn. Haunted even. But alive, and within that spark of life there is always hope. Hope that shines anew at the sight of the armed men and women below them. The people they’d heard about spoken in whispers from survivors passing through. I couldn’t have asked for a better start for Henry to see the impact and to hear people responding.
‘There’s the horse,’ someone said.
‘And the dog,’ someone else said.
‘Which one is Dave?’
‘I am Dave,’ Dave said, answering the question without boast as the people looked and pointed.
‘Are you Paula?’ the man asked, looking at Paula as she blinked in shock at people knowing her name. She nodded once. Caught out in the surreal moment.
‘You said they were going past?’ I asked them.
‘Look! It’s the smart one with the tie!’ someone whispered while looking at me.
I smiled politely. ‘May I ask what you mean by them going past?’ I asked again.
‘For a few days,’ the man that seemed to be in charge said. ‘Like going through the village but not stopping.’
‘There was a lot of them,’ a woman added from the next window along. ‘Probably hundreds. Did you tell them about, Storrington, Alan?’ she asked the man in charge.
‘Storrington?’ I asked
‘South-east of here,’ she said
‘I know Storrington,’ Henry called as the people in the windows look over at him. ‘What’s happening there?’
‘Same as us,’ the woman said. ‘They got surrounded in the supermarket.’
‘By the bank just off the High Street,’ Alan said.
‘Look for The Anchor Inn,’ the woman said. ‘Opposite that. Not the first bank though. You need the big one where the supermarket is and the coffee shop.’
‘Coffee shop?’ Howie asked with sudden hope. ‘Starbucks?’
‘Costa,’ the woman said as Howie tutted.
‘How do you know that?’ Paula asked.
‘I used to go there,’ the woman said.
‘Not the coffee shop. How do you know there’s people trapped there?’
‘Oh, sorry love,’ the woman said. ‘Some of the landlines were still working. They said they couldn’t get out.’
‘They were calling numbers from an old phone book they found,’ Alan added. ‘They’ve got a woman in labour but no nurses or doctors.’
‘Oh shit,’ Paula said already turning as Blowers ordered his team to fall back to the Saxon.
‘They’ve got loads of kiddies there an’ all,’ the woman said. ‘Shall I phone ‘em back and say you’re coming?’
‘Yes!’ Paula says.
‘And tell them to get away from the windows and doors and stay low,’ Clarence called.
‘Oh, and ask them if they’ve seen a talking zombie,’ Howie called. ‘And tell them they should get a Starbucks instead of a Costa. What? Starbucks is much nicer than Costa,’ he said to Paula giving him an eye-roll.
‘Howie!’ Henry called. ‘We had a deal. We agreed.’
‘Are you fucking joking?’ Howie asked, already flaring back up.
‘No, Howie,’ I said quickly, holding my swatter up before he could protest as Clarence and the others listened in. ‘We did agree. We must abide by that. Henry is right. We should follow this horde to the CP and then do as he requests.’
‘Right,’ Henry said, caught off guard.
‘Agreed?’ I asked, giving Howie a stern look. ‘We find the CP we agreed to find back at the department store then we let Henry take over. Yes? Paula? Clarence?’
I could see in Howie that he knew I was making a play, although I would suggest he didn’t have a clue what it was. But we had trust. We had deep trust, and so he went with it.
‘No, okay, yeah, that’s fair enough,’ Howie said with a reluctant sigh.
‘Fine. Agreed,’ Paula said with the same tone, no doubt also without a clue but trusting Howie and I enough to go with it.
‘Concurred,’ Clarence said.
‘This is the right thing to do, Howie,’ Henry said. ‘We need to find this CP, gather what intel we can, then you let me take the reins.’
‘Absolutely’ I said. ‘Right chaps. Let’s get into Storrington and get it done. Load up. We’re moving out!’
(Seriously. Don’t ever patronise me.)
28
Diary of Charlotte Doyle
As ghoulish as it sounds, I really think we needed that fight in Petworth. It reset the bad energy, and, of course, we then heard straight away that more survivors were in peril in Storrington, which enab
led the energy to stay high as we rushed back to our vehicles
‘Fuck just happened,’ Howie asked. (Now wedged in the back with everyone else.)
‘Reggie’s up to something,’ Clarence said.
‘Reggie’s always up to something,’ Paula said.
‘Just let him work,’ Marcy said. ‘He’ll have some nerdy grand master plan going on. Clarence, you’re sweating on me! Move back.’
‘Where to?’ Clarence asked in protest, stooped over Howie, Marcy and Paula in the back of the Saxon as they twisted around to see Meredith sitting happily in the spacious front seat.
‘It’s those bloody biscuits,’ Paula said as Tappy veered over to run an infected down with a jolt and a bang that made us all lean and sway.
‘Soz!’ Tappy yelled.
‘It’s fine,’ Paula called. ‘And no more dicks either.’
‘What, me?’ Tappy asked while twisting to look back.
‘Not you! The dog. Henry’s right. We’ve slipped into some bad habits the last couple of weeks.’
‘Oh god, we’re trapped in a lecture,’ Howie said as Tappy veered the other way to a much louder bang and much bigger jolt.
‘Soz. That one was a fatty,’ Tappy called.
‘Try warning us before next time,’ Marcy said.
‘And don’t say fatty,’ Paula said.
‘What’s wrong with fatty?’ Howie asked.
‘I just said we need to smarten up and be more professional,’ Paula said.
‘Advanced obesity infected person warning!’ Tappy called as the Saxon jolted and made us all lean and sway again.
‘Er. Why didn’t we just get in the van?’ Marcy asked.
‘Yeah, Clarence. Why didn’t we get in the van?’ Howie asked.
‘Just pull over. We’ll jump out,’ Paula said.
‘And have Henry make some smug comment about our lack of planning?’ Howie asked as Paula thought for a second.
‘Fine. Just bloody get there then!’ she said as the Saxon broke free from the narrow twists and turns of Petworth onto the wider main road.
It was so hot too. I am sorry to keep mentioning it, but Paula said we must tell people in the future what it was like, and you need to know how brutal that heat was. The air was thick and listless, and the humidity was crushing.