The Undead | Day 25 [The Heat]

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The Undead | Day 25 [The Heat] Page 42

by Haywood, RR


  ‘I was just saying,’ Roy said.

  ‘Fuck off, Roy!’ Nick said. ‘Jesus. I just wanted to see a fucking Spitfire. You lot can be fucking cunts sometimes. Fuck this. Let’s just go then.’

  ‘Nick,’ Marcy called as he walked off. ‘Nick! I’m sorry. Okay? Just bloody hang on. I said I was sorry,’ she said as she ran after him to grab his wrist. ‘I didn’t see it that way.’

  ‘We don’t all see shit the same way,’ Nick said.

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. I apologise, Nick. I see what you mean now.’

  ‘Don’t mug me off, Marcy.’

  ‘I’m not! I get it. I’m sorry. Okay?’

  ‘Whatever. It’s fine,’ Nick said.

  ‘So, tell me about it,’ Marcy said.

  ‘Marcy, come on,’ Nick said.

  ‘I’m serious. What does elliptical mean? And the shrunken rivets.’

  ‘Sunken,’ Tappy called from on top of the tank as she jumped down and ran over to kiss Nick’s cheek. ‘It’s just the heat. Chill out. Sooooo! Sunken rivets mean less friction and drag which means the plane can go faster.’

  ‘And turn quicker,’ Nick added.

  ‘Which made it more agile, which is how it kicked Hitler’s arse,’ Tappy said.

  ‘Which is why they used it for dog fights with other fighters,’ Nick said. ‘And used the Hurricane to take out the bombers. Cos it had a better view from the cockpit.’

  ‘Not all though,’ Tappy said. ‘The Hurricane actually got more kills than the Spitfire.’

  ‘Only because more were built,’ Nick said. ‘And because the Hurricane took less than ten minutes to refuel and rearm.’

  ‘Whereas the Spitfire took nearly half an hour,’ Tappy said. ‘And it had way less range than the Hurricane.’

  ‘I still can’t believe they’ve got them geared up to fire,’ Nick said.

  ‘That’s why’re up this end closest to the school,’ Tilda said. ‘We can’t fly them, but we can turn and shoot them.’

  ‘You know they’ve only got sixteen seconds, right?’ Nick said as everyone looked at him.

  ‘Sixteen seconds of what?’ Howie asked.

  ‘Of firing. That’s all they had. Sixteen seconds before they ran out of rounds.’

  ‘Jesus. Sixteen seconds?’ Cookey asked. ‘So they couldn’t afford to miss then.’

  ‘Eight guns mounted on the wings. Some are .303 rifle rounds, then they had the 20mm cannons added in. But yeah, sixteen seconds. That was it,’ Nick said.

  ‘Can’t we use them?’ Cookey asked. ‘I mean. That’s a tank. We need a tank.’

  ‘Nah. It’s too old and too slow, nipper,’ Frank said, but not unkindly. ‘A thing like that drinks more fuel than we can carry, and they’re good when they work but when they break they can be buggers. And we’re definitely not towing a couple of fighter planes for sixteen seconds worth of shooting zombies.’

  ‘Not zombies,’ Reginald said.

  ‘Anyway. I’m with Busty McGoo. We’ve seen ‘em now and it’s too hot to stand around. You happy now, lad?’ Frank asked with a look to Nick.

  ‘Yeah, I’m good. Cheers, Frank. Sorry, Marcy.’

  ‘Come here,’ Marcy said, giving him a hug.

  ‘Come here,’ Frank said, holding his arms out to Nick while puckering up.

  ‘Fuck off!’ Nick said as we all laughed.

  ‘I didn’t mean you. I meant Busty McGoo. Eh? Mr Howie. Good job you’re not the jealous type with her slipping the tongue in this morning.’

  ‘I didn’t!’ Marcy said. ‘And stop calling me Busty McGoo,’ she added with a slap at Frank’s arm.

  ‘Just tell him he’s old and stinks of piss,’ Carmen said.

  ‘Eh. What’s this about massages?’ Frank asked as Carmen gave him a look.

  ‘Mayonnaise,’ Cookey coughed into his hand.

  ‘Mayonnaise?’ Tilda asked.

  ‘Long story,’ Carmen said as we took a final moment to stare at the planes and the tank. I could see what Cookey meant too, because those machines could have helped us, except firstly we couldn’t use them, and second, we couldn’t either maintain, rearm or keep refuelling them. Especially the tank. It was incredibly frustrating, but again it spoke of the dedication of the people that used them. The training they went through while knowing there was a very high chance of death.

  ‘Major Tanners, Mr Leeson, thank you,’ Henry then said, offering his hand once more. ‘And we shall certainly keep you in mind if we return this way.’

  ‘Yes, do, Major,’ Mr Leeson said. ‘We shall give prayers for your safety.’

  ‘Did you go to a school like this?’ Cookey asked me, making me turn and smile as the others shook hands with Paula having cooled down enough to come out and say goodbye.

  ‘Similar,’ I said.

  ‘Were you a head girl too? I bet you were.’

  ‘I may have been,’ I said with a smile.

  ‘Knew it. You’re so posh. Did your house have servants?’

  ‘No!’ I said with an eye roll. ‘We had housekeepers instead… And a nanny,’ I added as he laughed at my delivery.

  ‘I had a nanny,’ he told me. ‘She used to give me a quid to buy a can of Dr Pepper on a Saturday. Jesus. Different worlds or what.’

  I shrugged and frowned at him. ‘It was different worlds, but not now. Do you fancy me, Cookey?’

  ‘Eh?’ he blurted with a sudden blink at the direct question. ‘What the fuck.’

  ‘It’s a straight question. Do you find me attractive?’

  ‘Charlie.’

  ‘Because I’m getting mixed signals and it’s confusing me.’

  ‘No. I mean. Yeah, I…’

  ‘Okay! Load up. We’re moving out,’ Howie called.

  ‘Alex?’ I asked.

  ‘Reggie? We got a route yet?’ Howie shiouted from the Saxon to the van.

  ‘Let’s talk later,’ Cookey said.

  ‘When? We’re always busy. I just need to know!’

  ‘I do have a route, Mr Howie,’ Reginald called. ‘I shall update you when we’re on the move.’

  ‘That’s intel military speak for it’s secret,’ Tilda explained to Mr Leeson.

  ‘Cookey! Charlie! You two can flirt later. We’re going,’ Paula said with a hand clap as I looked at Cookey, hoping he’d just say yes that he did find me attractive, or that he’d do or say something. But again, he seemed to panic and turned away as I exhaled and headed after him back into the Saxon.

  Back to being hot bodies in a hot tin can.

  Back to being confused in a day of days that was only getting weirder by the moment.

  36

  Diary of Reginald

  That brief sojourn marked a significant turning point for me, because while neither the Spitfire nor the Hurricane or the tank held any real interest for me – the reactions of everyone else did.

  I must admit I was rather in the same camp as Marcy in that I held no interest in honouring the tools of war. However, from a historical point of view, I absolutely understood the significance of them, and Nick was entirely right in that the honour was meant not for the tool, but for the people that used them.

  It was very eloquently put to. Nick has dyslexia and swears profusely, but I have observed that he swears more when he feels either judged, or under pressure from his peers. In this instance, he did swear, but only when he became frustrated at feeling he wasn’t expressing himself.

  I have a lot of time for Nick. We all do. He, like Blowers, Cookey and the others, have all experienced very turbulent and often highly unpleasant lives before now, and in many ways, the familial unit established by Howie and Paula are their first real experiences of what a functioning family looks like.

  As it was, I thought that brief stop was most interesting on several levels.

  What it demonstrated was not only a heightened (and essential) level of unity within our team, but also that Henry did not intervene. He didn’t try and tell Nick to be quiet or tell Marcy that she was wrong.
Instead, I observed him listening to both sides with keen interest, and of course, he then saw as they resolved the dispute.

  At which point, Frank expressed concern for Nick and asked him first if he was okay, then made a joke, which again served to break the tension.

  I also noted that neither Henry nor Howie went at each other during that time. Indeed. Howie seemed to accept Henry taking the lead in speaking with Mr Leeson and Tilda Tanners.

  And more importantly, Henry did not try and put Howie down in front of Mr Leeson or Major Tanners. Nor did Henry show irritation when Howie reacted to the mention of religion.

  It may seem I was over scrutinising the entire episode, but in short, and as Charlie would translate, I had them in the right mood for what needed to come next.

  However, I had a decision to make.

  We either changed direction and turned back. Or we proceeded. But if we were to proceed then there would be no guarantee of survival.

  I knew the question of direction would come up within a moment or two and I very quickly studied my maps to make sure I knew what I was doing, and more so, that I was prepared to accept the consequences of failing.

  ‘Reggie. It’s Howie. Where are we going?’ Howie asked through the radio as I felt a last-minute stab of nerves and a bead of sweat roll down my cheek which served to remind me of that incredible heat. And that alone was a very desperate concern.

  Was it too hot? Should I call it off?

  ‘He’s not replying,’ Frank’s voice then transmitted.

  ‘Mucky sod’s probably getting another massage,’ Marcy said.

  ‘She’s best be careful. Mayo’s got a lot of calories,’ Frank added as Carmen snorted a laugh.

  ‘He’s such an idiot. Just ignore him,’ she said, reaching for her radio as Henry piped in.

  ‘Ah. Now I see why Carmen wanted to ride in the van.’

  Carmen and Roy both laughed, and through the radio I could hear chuckles coming from the Saxon, and right then, from Henry finally cracking a joke, I knew we were as ready as we could be.

  ‘You are all very witty,’ I finally transmitted to a chorus of cheers. ‘But yes. I do have a route in mind. Let’s get onto the A24 and head down to Southwater.’

  ‘Reggie. Henry here. I thought we established the CP is north east. Southwater is south of here. From memory we should be heading towards Horsham I believe.’

  ‘Yes, we are going north-east, but the local guidebooks indicate Southwater has a fuel station, which I believe we need?’

  ‘We need fuel!’ Tappy cut in.

  ‘Yeah, we’re on less than half a tank now,’ Roy said from the front.

  ‘Understood,’ Henry then added through the radio. ‘Fuel stop then we’ll continue north-east.’

  I felt bad for lying, and I felt worse for knowing what I was taking them into

  But that was the game, and that was the hunt.

  Paula

  It was afternoon by then, and it had already been a very hard day, and to be honest I was thinking of calling it.

  That awful heat was crushing us. There was no escape from it either and I knew both the SUV and the van were pumping out hot air as their AC units just couldn’t cope. Plus, it kinda felt like we’d lost a bit of traction after stopping at that school.

  There was also something going on between Charlie and Cookey. She refused to sit on his lap when we set off and instead went up through the hole in the roof.

  I shared a look with Marcy, but there was nothing we could do. There just wasn’t time to stop and ask Charlie what was up, but I did manage to get Cookey’s eye for a second.

  You okay? I mouthed. He nodded and offered a smile, but he seemed troubled. Then a second later he turned away to Blowers saying something as the lads all burst out laughing.

  Then I saw Mads and Booker sitting next to each other and thought it was nice to see Maddox relax and just be a lad.

  But that heat. I could see it in all of them. We were wilting - which is why I was thinking of calling it.

  But then it all changed because we reached Southwater.

  Charlotte

  I went up top to ride the gimpy because I needed some time alone.

  I also thought the breeze would be nice. But it wasn’t. It was hot and awful and did nothing to cool me down, although perhaps it did dry the sweat a little.

  I was miffed about Cookey. About our conversation, or lack thereof. I was sore at him and at myself for pushing the conversation and feeling rejected.

  I ran my hand over my head to feel the stubble and regretted ever cutting my hair. I felt the scar on my cheek and the missing chunk of ear and questioned my appearance. I felt lonely, dejected, and ugly, and I felt confused.

  Please don’t misunderstand me. I am not a girl that crumples into a heap because of a guy. But right then, I felt crushed and low. I was desperate for human intimacy, and I was desperate for something to replace the pain of losing Blinky, and as we went south through fields and meadows, I stared out at nothing and hoped Paula would call it because I wanted nothing more than the day to end.

  Then we hit Southwater.

  Carmen

  The A/C in the van had pretty much given up. But at least it wasn’t as bad as the Saxon. It was better than the SUV too.

  That said. I was ready for the day to be over, and I know I wasn’t the only one.

  ‘Maybe we should call it,’ Roy said from the front. ‘This heat. Reggie? You listening?’

  ‘I’m listening,’ Reginald said.

  ‘Well? What do you think?’ Roy asked. ‘It’s been a long day already.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s my decision,’ Reginald said while studying his maps and books.

  Roy seemed to think for a moment. ‘I’ll mention it when we stop for fuel. Bloody hell. The tarmac is starting to go. Seen that?’

  I went forward to see big black patches of bubbling tarmac. ‘You know it’s hot when the road melts,’ I said. ‘Maybe we should stop for the day. I’ll speak to Henry when we stop.’

  ‘You back on speaking terms then?’ Roy asked me, but he went silent in such a way it made me turn and look out the front, and in fairness, all thoughts left my head too.

  Because we’d just hit Southwater.

  Charlotte

  I could smell it before I saw it. The stench of death and fire. It made me blink and jolt my mind out of the self-pity I had lapsed into.

  We were on a country road passing a cemetery on the right and just as that smell reached me, I saw a house burnt to the ground. The roof had crumbled in, and the heat was still pouring from the blackened timbers.

  There was a cricket club after that, also burnt out and still smouldering with bodies in the playing fields alongside and blood smeared over the grass.

  Then we hit the first proper housing estate. Rows of redbrick standard houses with fenced in front gardens. All of them blackened and burnt.

  It was like driving into hell.

  Not one house we passed remained intact, and the further into the town we went, the worse it got.

  Paula

  We reached the end of Church Lane as Charlie readied the gimpy for firing, which prompted everyone else to check magazines and make ready, which only added to the ominous feeling as Tappy came to a stop in the middle of the junction.

  There were two shops across the road. A convenience store and a food take-away place, and on the other side a pub called The Cock Inn, but not one of us made a joke about the name. Not even Cookey.

  All of them were destroyed with the roofs fallen in from fire and the windows smashed. The doors ripped off, and the walls that weren’t blackened by fire were red with blood. It was still giving off heat too. Which meant it was recent.

  Howie told Tappy to keep going and stay on the main road as the big wheels crunched over the debris and through the sticky patches of melting tarmac.

  Maddox

  We could smell it in the back of the Saxon. Burnt out houses and dead people. It was grim
AF.

  Me and Booker were in the cheap seats staring out the back to Roy and Carmen in the van behind us. I could see past them to Reginald staring down at his desk and figured he’d seen this town already because Reggie used that drone a lot more than the others realised.

  Then we went past another building. A doctors surgery and a pharmacy. It had been on fire too with smoke pouring out of the windows with a few bodies outside. Some charred up from the fire. Others just dead and mangled. But then me and Booker shared a look because it kind of looked how we leave bodies after a battle.

  Same over there, we heard Howie say from the front and me and Booker were trying to see ahead, but Charlie was up top, and her legs were in the way. We stuck with staring out the back doors and clocked what Howie must have meant when we turned and saw the building opposite was burnt out too with more bodies outside, then more along the road as Tappy drove slowly into a car park with all these stores around the edges and flats over the top of them.

  We heard the front doors open then Blowers gave the nod for us to pile out and we’re dropping into the sun and squinting from the light while looking at the warzone around us.

  There were bodies everywhere. All mangled and cut or shot or run over. Cars were ditched in walls. Nearly all of the buildings had been burnt out. Whole rows of them crumbled in with smoke and heat hazes still coming out. A few were still on fire with flames still eating whatever fuel they had left inside. Wooden beams or furniture.

  What’s that smell? Howie asked as he inhaled then coughed at the stench.

  Petrol, I told him. He looked at me as I went closer to one of the shops and inhaled. Yeah. They used petrol to burn them out.

 

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