The Undead | Day 25 [The Heat]

by Haywood, RR

  I found the stairwell and flew down then along to see everyone gathered screaming and crying in the café on the ground floor.

  ‘Café, Roy. Ground floor!’ I said into the radio and flew back upstairs to see Joan was now with them with Howie and Dave taking on the infected that got inside. ‘Follow me!’ I said and led them down the stairs.

  Paula

  I felt sick with fear, and I will never forget the sight of Clarence going over the edge of that building with the infected falling ahead of him. Nor will I ever forget the sight of him landing on the body pile, and the whole thing giving way, collapsing down into one enormous heap of thrashing bodies with Clarence on his own. Buried alive.

  We all reacted. Oh my god, we reacted. And we ran with our hearts in our mouths. Every single one of us just ran to get there. Danny was fastest, and bless him, he just dove into the mess. Stabbing at infected as he pulled them away. Then Mo got there, Blowers, Cookey, Nick, Maddox and Booker. Then Jess is steaming in with Charlie sliding off the saddle to help. Even Tappy was out of the Saxon, running in with Meredith. Marcy was there. We all were. Clarence was buried beneath dozens of bodies. The man can fight, but even his body needed air to breath. He’d be crushed or suffocated.

  We tore at them. We screamed out like wild beasts with Jess rearing up to crush them and Meredith ragging bodies. It was frenzied.

  Then it erupted.

  Oh. My. God. It erupted – and I don’t mean figuratively. I mean literally because that seething pile of bodies seemed to shift and move like the tectonic plates were shifting beneath them. And in a way that’s what was happening, except it wasn’t tectonic plates, it was one seriously large man having one seriously bad day.

  Now we’ve all seen Clarence when he goes berserk. But this was off the scale because that mass of bodies just seemed to slide away from this rising bulk in the middle with even us falling back and crying out until there was just this Viking warlord roaring out as he fought free while using a human leg as a club. God knows where he got the leg from. He just had it in his hand as he screamed and killed anything within range.

  Reginald

  I flew back to the café on the ground floor. A large open plan area filled with people in varying states of silent terror or whimpering in fear while others openly sobbed. Children were clinging to adults. Men and women were holding paltry weapons. Sticks and knives but they were shaking from head to toe, and there, in the middle, was a young woman flat on her back with her legs spread. People at her sides in obvious states of panic at the large pool of blood spreading out from between the woman’s legs. Her belly swollen with child, but even I could see there was too much blood.

  I saw it all within a glimpse as Roy and Joan strode into the room while rubbing liberal amounts of anti-bac gel into their hands and arms, and my gosh, the sight of them striding in sent a ripple of electricity through that room. They were both armed, of course, but it was more than that. They looked like paramedics turning up to a scene of carnage with that aura of absolute calm control.

  ‘Move aside please,’ Joan said curtly, but not harsh. She wasn’t rude at all, and the people did just as she said with all of them wilting back as Roy moved in to grasp the birthing mother’s hand.

  ‘You’re going to be okay. My name is Roy. We’re going to help you.’

  The poor woman burst into tears, staring up at him as Joan gently opened her legs and got down low to start examining her.

  ‘Roy?’ Howie shouted from outside the café.

  ‘In here!’ Roy called as Howie and Dave ran down the stairs.

  ‘Do not come inside,’ Joan ordered without glancing back as Howie came to a sudden stop and looked down at his bloodied clothing. Dave didn’t have a drop on him of course, but they both stopped at the threshold.

  ‘How is she?’ Howie asked.

  ‘How long has she been in labour?’ Joan asked. ‘Someone, answer me!’

  ‘Hours,’ someone blurted.

  ‘Has she been pushing?’ Roy asked.

  ‘I keep pushing,’ the woman sobbed.

  ‘It’s trapped then,’ Joan said. ‘Right. Let’s get to it. Roy, you watch her vitals, I’ll get a hand inside and see what’s what.’

  Paula

  To be fair, the rest of us could have gone for a cup of tea and left Clarence to it. And in a way, I think he kind of needed it.

  But we all got stuck in, and a couple of minutes, later we’d killed them all. Helped enormously by Bashir getting on the gimpy – then once more that strange silence came as we stood in a sea of death and broken human forms. All of us sucking air in, and Clarence in the middle, holding someone’s arm in his hand. His bald head dripping with blood. His top torn and ripped away. The parachute regiment tattoo visible on his shoulder.

  Honestly. I would have humped his leg right then if I could have, but instead, I just looked at him. We all did. What he’d just done was something else.

  ‘Airborne,’ Frank then said, making Clarence look over to him.

  ‘Airborne,’ Clarence said. Frank nodded once. They didn’t say anything else.

  Then we heard some bangs sounding out and the noise of boards being prised open. A few seconds later, and a door opened at the back of the building as the same man from the window stepped out, then balked at the sight of us and the carnage around our feet.

  ‘How is she?’ Clarence asked.

  The man tried to reply but vomited instead. Then, he waved an arm at the door, urging us to go inside.

  ‘Blowers, get sorted here,’ I said as Blowers nodded. I went first through the door, with Clarence and Marcy, then Henry, and his team behind us.

  We transitioned from bright light to a gloomy interior. The windows boarded up with thick planks, and we went past doors leading into the supermarket interior. The shelving moved against the plate glass windows. Defined sections clear with walls made from blankets hanging from string. Lanes and alleys running between them. A stench inside. Body odour and people, but at least they had food and the ability to clean themselves.

  We could hear it before we reached the open doors leading into the café. A grunt sounding ahead. Someone gasping quickly.

  Howie and Dave were standing by the café doors staring inside to a woman on her back, grunting and panting in agony. People were gathered at the sides looking terrified.

  ‘I’ve got to push,’ the pregnant woman said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Joan?’ I said.

  ‘Do not come in if you’ve got blood on you,’ Joan said without looking back as I spotted Roy at the woman’s side, pressing a stethoscope to her stomach.

  ‘I’ve got to push!’ the woman said again.

  ‘Do not push!’ Joan said.

  That’s when I saw the blood on the floor that Joan was lying in. Thick red blood that had come from the mother spread out across the floor. There was too much. We could all see that, and she looked so pale too.

  But the horrific thing was the sight of Joan straining to get her hand inside the woman, pushing harder as the woman cried out with silent screams.

  ‘Roy, look for me. I can’t get an angle,’ Joan said as Roy shifted position to get in low beside her. His own body lying in the woman’s blood. He shone a powerful hand torch inside of her and craned to see while all the time the woman screamed.

  ‘I’ve gotta push… I’ve gotta push.’

  ‘No,’ Joan said, calm, but full of authority while I poured anti-bac all over my arms and hands and started rubbing it in. Then Marcy grabbed a spray bottle and set out about covering me from head to toe.

  ‘Bit more, Joan. Just a bit more,’ Roy said as Joan grunted and focused while clearly trying to turn the baby inside.

  ‘I need to push!’ the woman cried out.

  ‘No!’ Joan ordered.

  ‘We’ll have to cut it out,’ Roy whispered.

  ‘We are not cutting anyone,’ Joan said. ‘Not today.’

  Another grunt as Joan pushed her hand further inside the wo
man who screamed out from the agony of it with fresh spurts of blood coming out between her legs.

  ‘I’m coming in,’ I said. ‘I’m anti-bacced,’ I added as Joan shot me a look.

  ‘Head to toe,’ Marcy said as Joan nodded. I ran inside to the woman’s side to take her hand.

  ‘Hey, I’m Paula. You’re going to be okay. What’s your name?’

  ‘Donna,’ she said as I heard Howie telling the others what’s happened.

  ‘It’s stuck,’ Howie whispered. ‘She was pushing but it won’t come out.’

  ‘The cord?’ Henry asked.

  ‘I think so,’ Joan said. ‘And the baby is twisted inside.’

  ‘She’s lost a lot of blood,’ Henry said.

  ‘If you’ve nothing useful to say, Henry,’ Joan said while trying to get at the cord without forceps or tools or anything other than her hands. And all the time that blood kept coming out and the woman screamed in pure agony.

  ‘Carmen, get some plasma in our medkit,’ Henry ordered while striding in and rubbing anti-bac into his hands and arms. ‘You need to turn her. Let gravity aid you.’

  ‘She’ll bleed out,’ Roy said.

  ‘She’s already bleeding out,’ Henry said, dropping to the woman’s side next to me. ‘You and you,’ Henry ordered, nodding at people nearby. ‘Don’t just stand there. Get in here. We’re going to turn her. Which way, Joan?’

  ‘This way,’ Joan said, motioning the direction as Donna wept and gasped. ‘Now,’ Joan said. Nodding at us to gently ease her over onto her side as the woman screamed with a sound of pure agony. Making people cry out and turn away. ‘Bit more,’ Joan said as the blood came out thick and fast, and while she delved her hand deeper into the birthing canal. ‘Hold her there!’ Joan said. ‘I’ve got the cord. Hold her… Okay, yes, it’s free, let me… It’s moving! I can move it.’

  ‘That’s it, Joan! I can see the head,’ Roy said. ‘It’s clear.’

  ‘Now push,’ Joan hissed. ‘PUSH DAMN YOU!’

  An animalistic roar as Donna finally gave in to the urge to push with every muscle locking out. The veins pushing proud through her skin.

  ‘Crowning!’ Roy called as the blood sprayed from the skin tearing. A sudden release and it slid free in a rush of liquid into Roy’s hands.

  A tiny baby covered in gore and blood. A perfectly formed human child that Joan took to rub as every person in that room held their breath.

  ‘Is it?’ Donna asked, her voice barely a whisper. ‘Please… is it…’

  Joan took a breath, turned the baby, and slapped its tiny bum, making it cough and clear the airways with a gasp and a cry. ‘He’s fine,’ she said as the little lungs gave their first noise in this brave new world.

  ‘Listen to him!’ Howie said from the doorway with tears rolling down his cheeks.

  ‘He’s beautiful,’ I said.

  ‘A boy?’ Donna asked, her eyes filled with tears. Her voice wavering.

  ‘A boy,’ I said with my own tears flowing. ‘A beautiful boy.’

  ‘Is he okay?’ Donna asked.

  ‘Don’t sit up!’ Roy said, pressing something below to stem the bleeding.

  ‘He’s perfect,’ Joan said, shuffling on her knees to press the baby into her arms.

  ‘My boy,’ Donna whispered, holding him close and feeling her baby in her arms for the first time. Seeing his face. His nose and ears. The strands of dark wet hair on his head. The tiny arms and tiny legs.

  ‘We have to cut the cord,’ Joan said as the woman nodded. Her mind solely on the child. The tears still falling. The blood still coming as Carmen ran back in with a med bag. Dropping at her side and working fast to get a line into her arm from a bag of plasma while Joan and Roy clamped and cut the cord.

  The gasps and sobs of relief sounding out from all around.

  ‘Have they gone?’ someone asked as Henry looked at the woman and her child then over to the man asking the question. To everyone listening. Dozens of people. Men, women and children. The young and the old. The weak and the terrified.

  Henry nodded. ‘They’re gone,’ he said. Glancing back to Howie in the door. Dave at his side and Clarence at his back, towering over him. His top still ripped into shreds. His great head still pouring with sweat and blood.

  ‘Coming in!’ Reginald called, threading a careful route inside to pick the drone up from a nearby table before peering down at the baby. ‘Ooh. Well done you, and don’t worry, I think all babies are wrinkly to start off with. Anyway! Can someone tell me how long they were here for. The infected people I mean.’

  ‘They been going through for a few days,’ one of the men replied, looking to the others for confirmation. ‘Like going past. Then they started trying to get in.’

  ‘Same as Petworth,’ Howie said.

  ‘But they were going past before they started to try and break into here. Is that correct?’ Reginald asked as they all nodded.

  ‘Same up the road,’ another man said, moving forward to be seen. ‘I saw them going past for a while.’

  ‘Where up the road?’ Howie asked.

  ‘Ashington,’ the man said. ‘I came down a few days back. Like. I was going for the fort then stopped here and got stuck.’

  ‘Jordan’s from the community centre in Ashington,’ The first man said. The one that was leaning out of the window then puked when he came outside. ‘He was meant to be scouting for a way to the fort.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jordan said. ‘Listen, if you’re going that way can you check on them?’ he asked. ‘Only they’ve got a few kiddies there and the food was running low.’

  ‘We cannot rescue everyone,’ Henry said.

  ‘Well. We do need to go that way, Henry,’ Reginald said.

  ‘He’s so beautiful,’ Donna said from the floor. Her baby cradled in her arms. ‘Thank you,’ she said to Joan and Roy. The tears still flowing.

  ‘You need to thank Mr Howie and those two men,’ Joan said, nodding at Howie, Dave, and Clarence standing in the doorway as the woman turned to look at Howie.

  ‘Howie,’ she said with a soft smile as Howie frowned in panic.

  ‘Oh god, no, don’t call him Howie.’

  ‘Eh? I wasn’t going to,’ Donna said. ‘Oh god! Did you want me to call him Howie?’

  ‘What? Oh shit. No! Sorry. I thought cos Joan said then you said and… Right. But no. Sorry. My mistake. I er…’

  ‘Cos I was thinking about David actually.’

  ‘Aw, that’s lovely,’ I said with a smile at Dave.

  ‘After David Beckham,’ Donna added. ‘Sex on legs,’ she said with her own legs still spread open while Roy stitched away with a strange look of happiness on his face. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve found him, have you?’

  ‘David Beckham?’ I asked. ‘Er, no. We haven’t.’

  ‘Aw. Hey! I could give him a middle name though. David Dave Davidson! Oh my god. That’s so cool.’

  ‘Right. On that note! Shall we?’ Henry asked, looking at the others.

  ‘Eh? Hang on,’ Howie asked, staring longingly towards the coffee shop counter.

  ‘Mr Howie, we cannot keep stopping,’ Henry said.

  ‘Fuck’s sake. Fine,’ Howie said with a sigh. ‘We’ll get takeout then. Right. Who’s serving? We need twenty lattes, one carton of oatmilk for a horse, and one cup of Darjeeling to go please.’

  30

  Diary of Charlotte Doyle

  Then once we’d anti-bacced, checked weapons and hydrated we were back into the Saxon, or, as we came to call it, back to being hot bodies in a hot tin can.

  ‘Woohoo! The Saxon on the blacktop, speeding through the backdrop,’ Tappy called as she started the engine.

  The energy was high too and everyone was buzzing about the battle and how Clarence threw himself off a building to demolish a body pile single handed. Good gosh it was incredible. Then we heard how Howie dove headfirst through a skylight and landed on the infected inside and he and Dave kept them busy while Reginald used the drone to lead Roy and Joa
n to the woman in labour – and then how Henry came in and saved her life by turning her onto her side.

  All in all, it was a brilliant team effort all around, and so yes, the energy was high. We’d just saved a mother and child and more survivors. Plus, we were allowed to go inside and look at the baby as long as we didn’t touch anything or go too close.

  He was so beautiful! Well. Actually. If I am being completely honest, he was a rather ugly wrinkly thing, but super cute in a tiny defenceless way, and we stood there in silent awe for a moment – I say silent, Henry and Howie were bickering about coffee. Henry didn’t want to stop. Howie said we’ll get take out. Henry called him an idiot. Howie called Henry a twat then Joan cleared her throat and gave them a Paula look and they stopped – but we did get coffee. Paula said we deserved it after that, and she was the XO and was allowed to make that decision. Frank then said he concurred with a cheeky grin at Henry who clearly saw he was outnumbered and conceded with a graceful nod.

  So, yes. We then got our hot bodies back into our hot tin can where we drank strong, caffeinated, hot drinks. Which Maddox said was a really stupid thing to do, then he went all odd for a second and announced that he too would like a coffee.

  And then, we all settled in to continue our merry journey.

  ‘Fuck just happened?’ Howie asked – while once more cramped in the back of the Saxon.

  ‘We made a baby!’ Paula said.

  ‘Well. We didn’t make a baby,’ Clarence said. ‘I think that young lady made the baby.’

  ‘You know what I mean. Oh, but his little arms and legs and his dark hair. Literally the cutest thing ever,’ Paula said.

  ‘Wow. Never took you for the broody type,’ Marcy said.

  ‘Yeah, me neither,’ Paula said with a sudden frown. ‘But did you see his little nose!’

  ‘Ooh, she is,’ Marcy said while nodding at Clarence. ‘She’s broody.’