by Haywood, RR
Hundreds of them.
Thousands of them.
Tens of thousands.
And if that wasn’t enough – we then found the CP.
Only it wasn’t just one CP.
43
Miriam Longfield used to run a second-hand bookshop in Brighton. She had a cat called Oscar and liked folk music. Life was good and Miriam was happy.
Then the end came. She saw it unfolding on the news. She hunkered down and stayed hidden for ten long days until they found her.
She died violently. Screaming out in fear. Pain in her stomach. Pain everywhere. Nothing but fear and pain before the blackness of death.
She came back, and there was no longer any pain, and the things that had killed her were no longer fearsome. She felt their hunger. Their need. She felt the thing inside. It seemed to speak to her. She retained some of her own mind and became a manifestation point within which the virus could burrow deep and gain the spark of sentient life – just as Reginald had calculated it was doing in many places all over the world.
Brighton was taken within a week, then Miriam started north. Taking the villages and towns on the way. Hassocks. Hurstpierpoint. Burgess Hill and Haywards Heath. She headed east and took Southwater and Horsham and built enough numbers to enter Crawley from the south.
Crawley, however, had already been taken. That confused Miriam as she assumed she was the one true race. She worked through the town and stayed on the London Road heading north until she reached Gatwick International Airport, which is where she found Jeremy Butterworth and his horde.
‘I am the one true race,’ Miriam said as her horde came to stop while disgorging from the narrow mouth of the London Road
‘I am the one true race,’ Jeremy said while his horde also came to stop after swarming into the airport from the east after taking Crawley, East Grinstead, Horley and the surrounding towns.
Then it got a bit awkward as the very notion of existence seemed to be called into question as the infection within both Miriam and Jeremy, while completely separate to the other, considered the possibility that it wasn’t, as previously thought, one single entity.
‘Can we merge?’ Miriam asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Jeremy said.
‘We should try,’ Miriam said.
‘Okay,’ Jeremy said.
Then it carried on being a bit awkward as they tried to merge, by way of staring at each other as though some magical connection would form. Which it didn’t.
‘We should touch,’ Miriam said and poked Jeremy in the belly. Unfortunately, however, the poking did not cause the merging they so desired.
‘Maybe we need to share our DNA,’ Miriam said and spat in Jeremy’s face, but that didn’t work either. ‘Maybe it’s not enough. Touch my tongue.’
‘Okay,’ Jeremy said and moved close to poke his tongue in Miriam’s mouth. But still it had no effect and they remained, individually, the one true race.
‘Maybe we need to copulate,’ Miriam said. ‘Humans copulate to form connections.’
‘Okay,’ Jeremy said.
Miriam took her clothes off and laid down. Jeremy stared at her.
‘You need to put your penis in me,’ Miriam said.
‘Okay,’ Jeremy said. He didn’t need to take his clothes off as he was already naked. He got down on his knees and stared at his penis.
‘I think it needs to be erect,’ Miriam said, also looking at his penis.
‘Okay,’ Jeremy said. ‘How do I make it erect?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t have one. What did you do when you copulated before?’
‘I didn’t copulate before.’
‘You didn’t copulate before? How old are you?’
‘Forty-two.’
‘You’re forty-two and you didn’t copulate before?’
‘No.’
‘Did you have a job?’
‘No. I trolled people on the internet.’
‘Oh,’ Miriam said as though that explained it all. Which it mostly did. ‘Did you masturbate?’
‘Yes. Frequently.’
‘Just do that then.’
‘Okay,’ Jeremy said and started rubbing his penis.
‘Is that working?’ Miriam asked.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know. I used to watch pornography.’
‘We don’t have any pornography,’ Miriam said before the thing inside of her accessed the vast hive-mind collective knowledge and proceeded to adjust her body’s internal system to produce pheromones. ‘I’m making pheromones.’
‘Okay,’ Jeremy said, as the thing inside of him also accessed the vast hive-mind collective knowledge and proceeded to flood him with certain chemicals. ‘Okay, it’s hard now.’
‘Put it in.’
‘Okay.’
‘Move it in and out.’
‘Okay.’
‘Touch tongues again,’ Miriam said, thinking to maximise the exchange of bodily fluids. Jeremy did as told and licked her tongue as he lost his virginity at the age of forty-two while being watched by several thousand hosts and one drone flying above them.
Unfortunately, however, it had no effect and they remained, individually, the one true race.
‘Touch my breasts,’ Miriam said, as the thing inside grappled with the confusing array of sexual knowledge contained within the hive mind. Jeremy touched her breasts, but still they didn’t merge. ‘Some humans say bad things to make copulation a greater experience,’ Miriam added. ‘Say something bad to me.’
‘You’re a twat.’
‘Tell me I’m dirty.’
‘You need to wash.’
‘Tell me I’m a bad girl.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Eighty-six.’
‘You’re not a girl. Should I ejaculate?’
‘I don’t know. Try it and see.’
‘Okay,’ Jeremy and promptly ejaculated. Which still did not create the merge they both desired, and there passed another awkward moment while the infections within them tried to understand the vast complexities of existence, and the notion of cohabitation and mutually aided endeavours – while still coupled in the middle of the runway.
44
Diary of Reginald
‘Seriously! That’s disgusting,’ Marcy said as we stared at the monitor and the runway below us. ‘She’s like ninety years old and he’s licking her tongue. Oh god, I can’t even look. She’s opening her legs. I’m actually going to puke.’ She added at the sight of the guy on his knees rubbing his willy. ‘Oh no, he’s not.’
‘Yep. He is,’ Paula said as Marcy turned away to gag then spotted me staring intently at the screen. ‘Oh my god. Have you got a fetish for old ladies? I thought you were A-sexual you little perv.’
‘No, I do not you blasted idiot! And they’re not having sex for pleasure. They’re trying to merge.’
‘Eh?’ Paula asked.
‘It’s two control points,’ I explained. ‘She’s one and he’s the other. And they both have very large numbers too. Certainly the biggest yet. There’s got to be thirty thousand.’ I knew it was more like forty to fifty thousand, but I was still trying to play it down while avoiding the look of stunned horror on Paula’s face.
‘Have they finished shagging yet?’ Marcy asked.
‘No. He’s licking her boobs,’ Paula said.
‘Urgh! No! Stop it. Lower that drone. Lower that fucking drone. Oi you filthy shit. She’s old! Leave her alone,’ she shouted into the controller.
‘Reginald. Thirty thousand is definitely too many for us,’ Paula said. ‘We need to pull them out.’
‘No, hang on,’ I said while moving the radio on the desk out of her reach.
‘Reggie. It’s too many. Give me that radio,’ Paula said. ‘You are not sending Howie into that lot. Pull them out!’
‘He needs to bloody pull out,’ Marcy said with a nod at the screen. ‘Dirty shit.’
‘Reggie! Give me that radio.’
‘It’s only thirty thousand!’ I said. ‘We’ll be fine.’
‘Don’t you bloody dare!’ Paula said, lunging for it at the same time as Marcy, while I, however, being much smarter, went for my battle swatter.
‘Ow! You shit,’ Marcy said, ripping her hand away from being swatted, thereby prompting a squabble of hands with us all slapping and swatting at each other to get at the radio.
‘He’s got it!’ Marcy yelled as I snatched the radio free.
‘Mr Howie!’ I shouted as Marcy jumped on my back and got a hand over my mouth.
‘Reggie?’ Howie called back.
‘He’s fine!’ Marcy yelled, pushing her thumb over mine to transmit on the radio while muffling my voice. ‘We’re all fine.’
Carmen
Jesus it was frantic. But it was also good fun and I think we all got drawn into it with our team trying to beat Howie’s to the next junction.
We also kept hearing broken transmissions coming from the van. ‘Thirty thousand!’ we heard someone shout, then Marcy said they were still all fine and to keep going.
Not that either Henry or Howie paid it much attention. Howie was OCD on going two nil up and Henry was OCD on not losing another point and levelling against Howie.
Then we breached the last wall and I saw Howie glance up to see we were about to get into the last building. But it was a big one with eight windows with eight interior walls dividing them into offices.
We were all hooked into it. Bash was loving it and I even saw Joan share a quick grin and a wink at young Danny down below in the street. I guess in our minds the day was almost over. We knew the CP had to be somewhere close and this was the last blowout before Paula called an End-Ex and we bugged out for refs.
I remember looking down and smiling as Howie urged his side on while Henry battered the first door down in the last buildings then blew the windows out.
I was still leaning out of one of the other windows, tracking their progress and seeing Howie and Clarence make a last ditch balls out crazed charge as the windows in that last building blew out one after the other.
At which point the ground floor door opened with Henry strolling out ahead of them. Casual as anything and smiling at Howie and his team all gasping for air and still swinging axes.
‘What kept you?’ Henry asked as I burst out laughing and Frank walked out behind Henry with a wink at the lads. ‘I do believe that is one all, Mr Howie,’ Henry said with a big cheese eating grin. ‘Zone two is secure. Repeat, zone two is secure. Update on the CP please?’
‘Henry,’ Howie then said as Henry smiled over to see Howie facing away up the High Street in such a way that made the rest of us do it too.
Then it got weird because we realised the infected had stopping attacking.
Honestly. It was like a switch had been flicked and only then did I notice how quiet it had gone. All the howling and screeching had stopped. All the violence and noise of CQB had ended. No gunfire. No grunts.
Just the sound of fires and flames from the charges we’d set.
Just the sound of us all breathing hard and the grit beneath our boots as we shifted position to look at the now silent and static infected.
‘What is that?’ Henry asked, striding out further into the street. ‘Have we killed the CP? Is this the lull?’
‘I don’t know,’ Howie said as he grabbed his radio. ‘Reggie. Did we drop it? Reggie!’
‘Howie! Listen to me.’
‘Paula? What’s happening? Why have they stopped attacking?’
‘Cos they’re too busy shagging that’s why!’
‘Marcy, shush! Howie, listen to me. You need to draw back right now.’
‘Why? Did we kill the CP?’
‘Negative. The CP is nowhere near you. They’re two miles away in Gatwick airport.’
‘They?’ Henry cut in.
‘There’s two of them. Two CP’s,’ Paula transmitted.
‘Put Reggie on,’ Howie ordered.
‘No! You need to draw back. Howie, there are too many. Ex-fil now.’
‘Why? What for?’ Howie asked, which showed his lack of experience because when your XO tells you to ex-fil you don’t ask why. You just do it.
I didn’t wait for the order but got Bash, Joan and Roy down into the street to see the lads clambering on or jumping in the Saxon while Charlie was covering our six on Jess.
‘We’re in. Let’s move!’ Henry shouted, jumping up to ride the front step next to Tappy while I got in the front passenger seat and budged the dog over.
‘We should be cutting them down,’ Howie said as he got onto the step next to me and held the door open with his body.
‘Howie, Trust your XO,’ I said quietly, making him pause mid-transition with a nod at me.
‘Fair one. Yeah, sorry. Paula, we’re coming to you. Standby.’
A minute or two later and we found the van parked up just beyond the train line and pulled over as Paula and Marcy came out of the sliding door while the rest of us spilled out from the Saxon.
‘This isn’t a coffee break!’ Dave shouted. ‘Weapons check. Refill mags. Hydrate. Tuck your shirt in, Mr Booker.’
‘What the fuck is going on?’ Howie asked as we converged in the road.
‘Right. That horde,’ Paula said. ‘Stretches from here to Gatwick airport which is two and half miles away.’
‘Fuck me,’ Howie said.
‘And there are over thirty thousand of them with two CP’s. One male and one female,’ Paula said as Marcy stood behind her nodding earnestly while shoving her finger into a closed fist.
‘One of them’s like ninety,’ Marcy said. ‘Honestly. Just disgusting.’
‘They’re having sex?’ Howie asked.
‘They were. They’ve stopped,’ Paula said.
‘Hang on. What?’ Howie said.
‘Stop interrupting, Howie. Reggie? Report please,’ Henry said.
‘It’s really rather fascinating. I would suspect the CP’s are currently occupied with an existential crisis while attempting to determine how the one true race can be within two manifestation points simultaneously while both holding the same instinctual urge to dominate and control to become the apex species.’
At which point every person there, including Henry, all turned to look at Charlie pouring a big bottle of water over Jess’s back.
‘Two zombie grand masters are busy figuring out which is the big boss,’ she said without even looking over.
‘There they are,’ Marcy said as Reginald twisted the monitor so we could see a very old woman stood opposite a paunchy middle-aged guy with greasy hair. Both naked, and both very still. So were the infected around them. ‘Go up a bit,’ Marcy said as Reginald gave lift to the drone, and we watched the view open up to see dozens, then hundreds, and then thousands of infected staring at the two CP’s.
‘See,’ Paula said. ‘And before anyone says anything stupid let me make it clear right now that only an absolute moron would pick a fight with thirty thousand zombies.’
‘Got a map there, Reggie?’ Henry asked, taking one to spread out over the van step. ‘So, we have two distinct groups coming together at Gatwick. Tell me again what happens if we take the CP’s out.’
‘My theory is the infection will find another suitable host,’ Reginald said. ‘During which time the horde becomes sluggish and unfocussed. As they did at Hinchley Point yesterday.’
While he was talking, I got inside the van to grab a bottle of water and some shade while Henry studied the maps, and the rest did the same as me and took fluids onboard.
‘Okay, Howie,’ Henry said as though he’d decided something. ‘We need to first establish our objective, then we look to the best strategy to determine the right tactical response in order to achieve that objective. Now, let’s say our objective was to negate the CP’s. The first obvious asset on the ground is the air traffic control tower, which would make an ideal sniping position. The boarding gates are also high off the ground. However,
that would require the shooter getting into those buildings then working through to one of those vantage points. You said the hordes go sluggish for a couple of minutes while they search for the new CP. That might give time for the shooting team to ex-fil, but it certainly places them at extreme risk of being stranded once the enemy mobilise again.
‘The other option would be to find a firing point from the building line on the southern edge of the airport within the bordering industrial estates. That takes the distance down to three to four hundred metres and it buys time and allows for a route for the shooter to get out.’
He broke off as Roy stepped in closer. ‘At that distance I can have two arrows in flight at the same time and take them both. It’ll be silent too,’ he added as the others stirred from a plan starting to form. ‘They’re a bit bunched up though. Howie, you’ll need to make some gaps.’
‘I can bait them,’ Howie said as Clarence nodded at his side and the lads murmured. ‘Yeah, I like it. We go in. Make a fuss and keep them busy then Roy takes them out. That could work. I like it. Henry, I know we don’t get on, but mate, that’s brilliant.’
‘I’m glad you agree, Howie. But what happens after we kill those two? The hordes go sluggish and unfocussed, and we’ve got, what? A few minutes to kill thirty thousand of them. What do we kill them with? We don’t have thirty thousand rounds. And that is without factoring for Reginald’s assumption that the virus will immediately seek a new CP. What if that new CP is at the far end of the runway and out of range? Assuming of course that we can even find it, which is while that CP is sending thirty thousand infected against you. And for what? What is our objective here? For those two hordes to be that size then they must have taken all of the surrounding towns and villages. Which begs the question who are we protecting? And if we’re not seeking to save anyone then our objective cannot be to attack those CP’s because we simply don’t have the means to achieve it.’
‘We just leaving them then?’ Blowers asked.
‘What choice have we got?’ Henry asked.
Blowers shook his head and thought for a second. ‘What about another stash point?’ he asked with a look to me then at Henry. ‘We’ll drop mortars and get a fifty cal going.’