The Common Cold (Book 1): A Zombie Chronicle

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The Common Cold (Book 1): A Zombie Chronicle Page 8

by David K. Roberts


  The arm extended out, fist clenching, leaving one finger pointing. And then Daniel’s blood ran cold. Following the direction of the finger, he looked behind him and realised that it was the boy they wanted.

  “Why? If you have a problem with the father, then I have to tell you, he’s dead.” He looked back at Sam, and then caught a movement further behind them. About twenty yards back, Les, the children’s father, approached slowly, the front of his shirt red with drying blood, the hole where the bullets had entered, evident. Penny let out a scream as she saw the apparition approach. Sam made to run to him, but Rob caught the boy just in time.

  “He’s dead, kid. That’s not him.” Rob argued. Sam struggled some more, and then realised what Rob had said was true.

  Seeing no immediate threat, Daniel turned back to Jason. Now he could see that the dead man was focused upon the father, not the son at all.

  “Everyone. Step sideways. Come on. I think we’re getting between these folk, and their unfinished business.” Daniel could see a way out for the living, and made sure they took it.

  Slowly they edged their way along the path that followed the waterway, stopping when about twenty feet away. Some of Jason’s group crossed the bridge, with him at their head. Les took one last look at his offspring, a glimmer of recognition remaining on his face; turning back he lurched towards Jason and his men, intent on attacking. The general was a cheetah, and his reactions were lightning fast. He swung a machete, not noticed before, that had been in his left hand all along, and cleanly slashed at his attacker. The blade drove through Les’ chest and right down to the pelvis. Danny and Rob pulled the children around so they would not witness this brutal slaying. The father’s mouth kept moving in silent words, as the second swing severed his head from the shoulders. It rolled to the edge of the waterway and fell in, surprise, or not, registering on its face.

  Jason looked around at the cowering group of living, stared for a moment at the children and, clearly deciding not to exact his revenge on them as well, walked back over the bridge, his men following. Without so much as a backwards glance, they walked off towards Lewisham Station.

  The children ran over to the body and just stood there, emotionally drained and staring at his severed, inert form. Daniel and Rob hung back.

  “He came back to life. I know he was dead,” Rob said bewildered.

  “I know. I buried him.” They realised the implications, you weren’t dead until your head was destroyed or removed. That’s what the general had done.

  “Who the hell was that guy?”

  “I don’t know, but I’d guess he was some sort of gang leader in life. And so he is in death. He seems to remember things from his previous existence, maybe like the debt. Maybe it’s simpler than that and they just remember feelings like hatred and revenge.”

  They waited until the gang had gone from view before they ventured over the bridge to the road.

  “These bloody shoes had better be worth it,” Rob said, looking around, the recent encounter highlighting new unknowns about their common enemy.

  “I agree,” was all Daniel could think to say. He took them around to a smaller exit he knew of, through which they could enter the shopping complex, in the hope of meeting fewer, or preferably no zombies before he had changed shoes. Alas, a slower zombie began following them; it was a little old lady. Neither had the heart to kill her, or re-kill her, whatever the correct term was for what they had been doing, so they pushed her back out into the street, and closed the swing door, jamming it with a rubbish bin. She pushed at the door for a little while before giving up.

  They walked past the smaller market stalls that were set up near the entrance, one of them a butcher’s.

  “Hold on a minute, guys,” Rob said as he dashed inside. A moment later he came out with two machete-sized cleavers, and handed one to Daniel. “When I saw that gang and what they were carrying, I thought it was time we armed ourselves for close or silent fighting.”

  “Good thinking, Batman,” Daniel said, eyeing his cleaver thoughtfully. “I still think we ought to have made our peace if we get that up close and personal.”

  Chapter 9

  Nature Calls

  God, Daniel could be a real prick sometimes. Go in a corner. With my heart-throb in the room? Not bloody likely, I’d rather face the torments on the other side of the door. So went Janet’s thought process following her text session with hubby, not really understanding what he had, and was still, going through.

  Now, however, she was beginning to worry about him, what was he doing right now? She was frightened for him; in spite of his lack of thought on occasion, she wouldn’t be with anyone else. Blokes were lucky, they were plumbed for alfresco or oddball situations, and didn’t seem so bothered about bodily functions or smells. One of her obsessions, and it certainly explained their ultra-clean house, and the fact that the washing machine was on all the time (or so Daniel complained), was the thought that someone might think her less than clean. This obsession had seemingly come from no specific incident or place in her life, it was just something that developed over time, perhaps starting as a result of time spent in the halls of residence at university, where they had met, oh so long ago.

  “Paul, I really have to go to the Ladies’, right now,” she implored. Paul’s unrequited love for her meant that he would do or risk anything for her, especially when it now involved being a knight in shining armour.

  “Okay, let’s have a look out and see what we can do.” He thought for a moment, before getting up. “There’s an area in the staff room where we make our tea and coffee; there’s a tap there, so water is easy to get.”

  “Where are the loos?” she asked. Although she had been to the library innumerable times, she’d never before needed the facilities.

  “They’re right down the other end, in the area that adjoins the rec centre.”

  “That far?” Janet said, appalled. That really was a risk.

  “I can think of an alternative,” he said, cautiously.

  “Not the corner again,” she said, looking askance at him.

  “No. There’s loads of paper towels in the staff room. If we got them, you could go into one of the other reading rooms, providing it’s empty, of course.”

  “Oh, God. This really is a nightmare,” she bemoaned. Her idea of roughing it was a tent with at least four or five stars over the entrance, preferably in a warm country.

  “It’s a bloody sight safer than going all the way to the toilets. And that’s assuming there isn’t one of them in there.”

  She nodded in resignation. “I guess you’re right,” she responded.

  Standing up and carefully peering out of their safe room, Paul could see no-one, as long as he didn’t take into account the victim of that weird bloke earlier. He tried not to look in that direction, but the eviscerated corpse fed his fascination. His attention caught, he looked closer. Did the boy’s head just move?

  “I think he’s still alive,” Paul whispered to Janet, who was sitting still to reduce her desire for relief.

  “He can’t be. What that bloke did to him, no way.”

  “But his head is moving.”

  “What?” In spite of her needs, Janet stood and peered through the glass door. “Jesus!” she exclaimed, “how is that possible? He’s lost most of his stomach, and all of his throat.”

  “We’ve got to get across to him, help him.” Paul mumbled.

  “Paul, have you got a first aid kit that can handle evisceration? A really big Band-Aid, perhaps?” she paused. “Sorry, I’m being flippant. There’s no way he’s alive, it’s just not possible.”

  “And yet…” he left the sentence unfinished.

  Janet flopped back down, immediately regretting that move, so crossed her legs.

  “Right, first things first,” she said. “Let’s get some paper. Then, when I can think straight, we can do the rest.”

  “Okay, you wait here. I’ll get the paper and bring it to you. You can then us
e the room next door, I don’t think anyone’s there.”

  “Fine.” She grabbed his sleeve, “thanks for helping, Paul. If I’m a bitch sometimes, it’s just ‘cos I’m scared.”

  “I know,” he said gently, his heart racing from that merest physical contact. “Back in a sec.”

  Paul stood and, removing the chair from under the handle, opened the door slowly, checking blind spots, ensuring no-one was lying in wait. All clear. On tip-toe, he stole from one bookcase to another, getting ever nearer the staff room. He ducked into the room and disappeared from view, Janet peering after him, anxious that he would be safe. A minute passed.

  A scream of anger erupted, followed by the noise of breaking glass and the terrible sound of a body being thrown across the room. All Janet could see was a vague shadow, indicating a fight between two people. One of them seemed to raise a solid object over their head and bring it down onto the other. Both disappeared from sight. Not a sound. It was Janet’s heart’s turn to race, hers in fear of the unknown.

  A little movement behind the staff room opaque glass wall caught her attention, someone was walking backwards and forwards. Finally, the staff door opened and, Paul emerged, a forced smile on his face. He held a bottle of water in one hand and a wad of paper in the other. As he drew nearer, she could see he had been bitten on his right forearm. Throwing safety to the wind, Janet ran out to help him.

  “Come on,” she said taking his good arm and relieving him of the water bottle. They went back into the reference room, and once more secured the door with the chair.

  “What happened?” she asked, her needs forgotten for the moment.

  “It was Simon,” he explained. Janet gave him a blank look; she had no idea who he was talking about. “The head librarian. Complete bastard, I’ve never liked him. He was in there, when the hell he turned up I don’t know. At first I thought he was working; he was facing away from me, looking over some papers. I said hello, and he turned around,” he paused, wincing and clutching his arm, “that’s when I knew he was one of the crazies. His eyes. He came at me, really fast. We fell over and fought some. Then I managed to get something heavy, a Debrett’s I think. Smacked him on the head. He fell over and stayed still; I think I killed him, there was blood everywhere.”

  Gently Janet helped him sit down on the floor, and relieved him of the paper as well. The nasty-looking bite on his forearm was bleeding, so she placed a wad of the paper towels over it. That wasn’t a hugely hygienic thing to do, she thought, but the blood flow needed to be stopped somehow. If this Simon bloke was infected, then all they could do was hope it wasn’t contagious. There was no way they would be able to get emergency services out to help him; she’d tried 999 several times, and only ever received an engaged tone. Seeing the paper towels on his arm were now drenched, she replaced them with more in a bid to stop the leakage. Finally it appeared to have the desired effect, although the bite mark was standing proud of the flesh around it.

  “I’ll be back in a minute, needs must,” she said and pecked him on the cheek. “Thanks Paul.”

  The pleasure he derived from that single kiss would last him the rest of his life.

  Chapter 10

  Back on the Front Line

  Meanwhile, back in Lewisham, Daniel and his merry little band had found a Footlocker shop and secured the glass front doors leading to the main vestibule. So far, once in the mall, all they’d encountered were some slow movers; they were easy to get past, and lost interest after realising they couldn’t capture their intended prey. No fast ones in here, at least none they’d encountered.

  The staff in the shop had either abandoned the store, been turned or had been savaged horribly to death. They found two that had met this end and, in spite of the fact it was a cool winter’s day, because of the heat in the shop, and the year round availability of food in the mall, flies were beginning to buzz around, swarming black and shiny on the gory carcasses.

  “Let’s get this done, quickly,” Rob implored; the stench was becoming overpowering.

  Daniel worked his way along the shelf until he found his favourite trainers: Normal Balance. Looking at the item code, he wandered out back. How do they work this, he wondered. In front of him, piled up to the ceiling, were branded boxes, each one bar-coded. Working his way along the shelf, the numbers were beginning to make sense, their logic simple. At last clarity struck, and finally the right trainers were in front of him. That’s the one, he smiled, and the right size.

  Grabbing a box, he turned to go. Standing in front of him, between him and the exit, was the biggest man he’d ever seen. As wide as the man was tall; at least that was the impression he gave, his white eyes glared down at Daniel. Every exposed piece of flesh was covered in tattoos, his waxy skin doing nothing to enhance the designs. In fact, the veins now showing through his skin obliterated the finer elements completely, causing an unholy mess the length of his arms. His clothes were in tatters; he looked like The Hulk, only not so friendly, and not so green. Several cut marks decorated his chest and arms; it looked like it had been a battle to get this far. Where the hell had he come from, Daniel wondered? They had looked around the shop on entering, and found nothing other than the corpses, and he was absolutely certain this guy would be hard to miss.

  “Hello,” he tried to speak to this mass of dead meat; it had worked before. Nothing at all, if anything the creature appeared to lean closer, the smell hitting Daniel hard. Slowly, he let his right hand drop to the pistol. The thing caught the movement and roared its defiance; it began to lumber forward, not fast but this wasn’t a big area. Daniel pulled the pistol, and quickly squeezed off a round that merely grazed the monster’s head. Firing twice more in rapid succession, he was bang on target, one bullet removing the creature’s left eye, the other travelling up through its mouth, exiting the top of his head. Falling forward, he landed on top of Daniel, who was now pinned down under this mass of cold meat, all the while brain essence from its gaping wounds dripping clammily onto Daniel’s neck. He’d barely touched one of these creatures up to now, and was surprised at how icy the flesh had become. No way these things were alive, not in the true sense.

  “Danny?” Rob’s voice came through the mist forming in front of his eyes as he struggled to breathe. Everything was going dark.

  Slap! Daniel felt a stinging sensation on his cheek. He opened his eyes to see Rob’s face, and the two kids standing behind him.

  “Hey, you’re back. That’ll teach you to choose your playmates more carefully! He was a big sonofabitch, wasn’t he?” Rob smiled, and helped Daniel to his feet. It had taken Rob some time to get the massive corpse off his friend’s chest. The confined space of the store room, and the fact that they had been buried under falling shoe boxes hadn’t helped. “Did you get your shoes?”

  Daniel looked around, still a little dazed. “They were in my hand when he came along. Which reminds me, how the bloody hell did he get in here unseen?”

  “Good question. You get your shoes, I’ll have a look around.” Rob wandered off in search of another entrance.

  Daniel retrieved his trainers and, taking them out to the shop, he sat down to try them on. A small collection of slow movers had gathered outside the glass door, standing and staring inwards; Daniel’s movements were attracting their attention.

  Rob came back in, explaining how he’d found another entrance out back, probably used for stock collections. He, too, saw the group of dead loitering outside.

  “Perhaps we ought to leave the back way. What do you think?” he asked.

  “Let’s have a look.” Daniel walked to the glass doors, and peered around outside. The walkers became excited by his presence, and they crowded closer to the door. Looking further afield, he noticed a few hanging back, almost out of sight, their movements small but quick. The look on their faces was almost furtive, calculating, as if they were hiding something. “I think they’re setting a trap for us.”

  “What?” Rob peered out. The kids came over. They, t
oo, wanted to see what the problem was. The slow ones became quite agitated at all this warm flesh standing just the other side of the glass, out of reach. “I see what you mean, they look like they’re fast ones, those cheetahs.”

  “Sure as hell looks like they’re thinking, certainly enough to hunt,” Daniel said. Behind him he heard whimpering, and turned to see Penny crying softly, her eyes wide with fear. “Oh, Penny. I’m sorry. Don’t worry, we’re smarter than them,” he used his most convincing adult voice. “They won’t catch us, we’ll find another way out.”

  “In the meantime, let’s move away from the shop front, guys. No need to get them all excited about the prospect of an early lunch.” Rob walked away, Daniel followed. After a moment, the children ran after them, not wanting to be separated from the adults. Rob drew Daniel aside to talk in private. “If we get chased with these kids in tow, we won’t make it.”

  “What are you saying, Rob?”

  “I’m saying that everything we do has to be planned from here on in, unlike before, where we could just wing it.”

  “Okay, have you an idea of how to get out of here?” Danny asked. “I presume it involves the back door you found?”

  “Yes, it does. That man mountain must have come in through the back door, so I presume there’s a way clear of the centre through that same door. I’ve secured it for now, but we should get moving, before more of them are attracted to our presence.”

  “What if they’re smart and already know of it? Perhaps their tactics are to drive us out the back by showing themselves at the front?”

  “Do you really think they’re that smart?” Rob asked, the quizzical look on his face indicating that he had not considered that as an option. It was an unnerving idea, upping the ante rather more than they had hoped.

  “Haven’t got a frickin’ clue, but as you say, we need to plan for all contingencies. Anyway, in the end, it doesn’t matter if and what they’re planning, we have to go. So it’s more about picking an exit, and working with what we’ve got.”

 

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