by Fleet, Ricky
“Wait! Your lot shot him, so he can’t have got far. We’ll send people to find him.”
“That doesn’t help us right now, though. And Mrs Hampton’s already made it clear what was going to happen.”
George stepped forward in a panic. “Look, wait. We’ll find him, you have our word. We’re running things now, and there’re going to be some changes around here.”
“So fucking what?” Lennie snapped. “Do you have him now, or not?” His aggravation at being stooped in the low tunnel was testing his last nerve.
“I’ll send out a team immediately. I’ll have him in your hands by nightfall, I guarantee it.”
Lennie was bored to tears and just wanted to get home to his wife. “Ok, do it.” Turning to the eight Gypsies huddled in the confines, he said, “You lot, bring those two. Mrs Hampton’s going to have some fun tonight.”
Yanking the ropes from the prisoners, the travellers dragged the two hooded figures behind them. Echoing in the dank confines, the clash of metal being shut and locked followed them to the exit.
“Do you think Mrs Hampton will go for this?” asked Stan.
“Fuck knows. It all depends on what her visions say.”
“Do you believe in all that stuff?”
“It’s kept us alive so far, hasn’t it?”
“I guess. What do you think will happen to these two?”
Lennie shrugged, forcing the men up the steps and into the daylight above. “Whatever it is, it won’t be very enjoyable. Take off those hoods so they can climb the steps, I don’t want them breaking their necks before we get home.”
Mike and Craig squinted in the bright light as their eyes adjusted. The defiance on their faces faltered at the sight of the gathered men.
“Mr and Mr Arater, I presume? Mrs Hampton wants a word.”
Marching away, the dark laughter of the Gypsies could be heard on the walls. To a man, the prisoners thanked God it wasn’t them being taken.
**********
“What do we do now?”
George drew on the cigarette and stared from the governor’s office window over the peaceful scene. “We do as we’ve promised. Get word to the others that I want a meeting in half an hour. We’re going to send out men in every direction, as many as it takes to bring that bastard back.”
“What if they don’t find him?”
“Then we’re fucked,” said George, blowing out a thick stream of smoke.
“Hopefully certain death will provide some motivation for them to pull out all the stops.”
“If they don’t find him, we’ll take our guys and scarper. Let the others deal with the problem.”
“Any destination in mind?”
“Yeah, home.”
“Back to Liverpool?”
“Exactly. I know the crew will still be alive back there. Hell, they might even have the whole city on lockdown by now.”
“Why are we bothering with this shithole then?”
“Better the devil you know for now,” said George.
“I’ll make sure we’ve got provisions and equipment ready, just in case.”
Sitting in the plush office chair, George ground out the cigarette. Putting feet on the desk, he placed hands behind his head and relaxed. “I’m sure Mrs Hampton will see sense. We’re more use to her alive than dead.”
Fred poured a measure of brandy and handed one of the glasses to his brother. Raising a toast, he proclaimed. “Here’s to the Araters.”
“Sucks to be you.” George chuckled, tapping his own receptacle against Fred’s with a musical clink.
**********
Gathered by the tunnel entrance, the ten teams of four men listened to the instructions from their new leaders. Each and every one knew what would happen if they were unsuccessful. It wasn’t an option.
“Good luck!” called Fred.
“Don’t fuck up!” shouted George.
Armed with both weapons and an overriding motivation to not get murdered, they marched down the stone steps. They would follow every track, search every house and shed, look under every car, kill as many of the dead fucks as needed. Whatever happened, Matt Hay would be coming back with them. Reaching the steel gate, the sentry opened it and waved them through.
“Word is he headed north. We fan out and start searching in that direction,” said Kelsaw.
“Do we try the castle?” asked Chuck.
“What’s the point? He couldn’t get within a mile of that place on foot.”
“It’s probably still worth a look.”
“Yeah, ok. We can swing by and scope the place out.”
“What the hell is that?” whispered Chuck, coming to a halt.
Kelsaw shone the torch at the object attached to the wooden support column.
“It looks like a radio,” he said, slowly approaching the bizarrely out of place item.
Wires hung from the back of the black plastic housing. Looping up, they were stuck in large lumps of grey looking material.
“Is that clay?”
Reaching out a finger, Kelsaw prodded at the pliable, sticky mass. More of it was pushed into the small gaps along the roofline.
Eyes bugging in fear, he gasped, “Oh shit, I think it’s…”
**********
From across the southern fields, Lennie watched as the fireball rose into the sky. Hunks of earth mingled inside the roiling incendiary cloud. Releasing the transmit button, he smiled with satisfaction.
“You counted the steps perfectly. Good man,” he said to Stan who was mounted to his side.
“God bless our brothers. Who’d have thought after all this time their stashes from the war would come in so handy.” Pulling back the flap of the leather satchel, more carefully wrapped packets lay inside, with a hefty weight still secured in the hidden bunker.
“It’s why they never gave them all up. They were always prepared for it to go bad with the Brits again.”
Once the deafening crack of the initial explosion faded, the sounds of collapsing masonry took its place. A twenty foot section of the southern wall crumbled to dust, taking the men stood atop with it. The shockwave and flying stone had killed a small number of the dead who were waiting below. Most, however, shook off the blast and started to stand if they were able. Those that were shredded by the plastic explosives did their best, pushing or dragging themselves towards the breach and the fresh meat beyond.
“Dinner’s served,” Lennie laughed as the dead forged through the choking cloud of smoke into the prison.
Chapter 39
“They’re good people, don’t worry,” DB said to the concerned crowd.
“They weren’t so good the last time we tried to get their help,” Kurt replied.
“We came after you, didn’t we?”
Turning to Jonesy, Kurt pursed his lips in a gesture of contrition. Clapping him on the back, he replied, “You did, mate. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was the hardest time of my life being trapped in the barracks. When we were forced to turn you away, it was soul destroying.”
DB agreed. “We were meant to be the protectors, but they sent you back out into the shit. Let’s hope the bastard’s dead.”
“I can’t see how they’d be here if he wasn’t.”
Excited by the sudden hive of activity, the zombies didn’t know which way to turn. A sizeable portion broke away to welcome the growling behemoths, while the rest maintained their appreciation of the wall meat.
“The gates are sealed!” Jonesy shouted to be heard over the engine.
“You’ll need to climb up here!” DB called, tossing the knotted ropes from the walls.
“Just like basic training!” Eldridge beamed.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Beth.”
“And what about me?” shouted Holbeck.
“You too, Sarge. All of you,” Jonesy replied.
“Baxter?” DB asked.
“Dead as shit. We levelled a whole town on top of him.”
“An
d the others back at Thorney? Did they make it?”
“Most did. We lost a few, though,” explained Eldridge, a look of sadness passing over her face.
“I can’t believe you’re here and that lunatic’s gone,” Jonesy said. His voice broke with a mixture of joy and emotion and DB wrapped him in a bearhug.
“They’re safe! I knew it would all turn out ok!”
The vehicles carefully positioned themselves against the wall, mashing any creature foolish enough to get in the way. Sarah turned away as a line of the dead were ground to paste in the process between the armour and unyielding stone.
“I see you’ve brought the heavy artillery,” Jonesy remarked, nodding at the HMGs.
“You’ve not seen the goodies we’ve got inside for you yet,” said Eldridge.
“Consider it an early Christmas present.” Holbeck chuckled as he climbed from the turret.
“We’ll need to work out how to get it inside, though. It’s all loaded in the troop cab.”
DB reached down to help Beth to safety. “Don’t you worry. We’ll sort something.”
Holding her at arm’s length, he drank her in. Before she could make a comment, DB pulled her close and crushed her in his embrace. Holbeck hopped the wall and started to shake hands with Sarah and the wider group.
“I think introductions are in order,” said Jonesy as the last soldier set their feet on the ancient stone. “This is Sarge, or Sergeant Holbeck. He’s a fu…” seeing Gloria’s raised eyebrow he changed the word. “Flipping legend.”
“Thanks for keeping my guys safe,” he said gratefully.
Jonesy continued. “This warrior is Beth Eldridge.”
“Hi,” she said, waving meekly at the group. As brave as she was, meeting new people always sent her social awkwardness off the charts.
“These handsome fu… flippers, are Danny Harkiss, David Dougal, Paul Ewington, and Justin Petermann.”
They all smiled in greeting.
“The meanest driver south of Scotland you see there is Angela Carpenter. And I’m afraid I don’t know this lady,” he finished, noting the stranger standing among the soldiers.
“This fine lady is Joan MacLeod, retired army. She helped to save a large group in the Selsey holiday park.”
More handshakes and greetings took place.
“Let’s get the kettle on,” suggested Holbeck. “We’ve brought good news, and a shed load of bad.”
“That sounds ominous, Sarge.”
“There’s a war coming, mate. We need all available hands to fight it.”
“We’ve got our own war going on here, Sarge. I’ll tell you all about it over a cuppa.”
Heading inside, the elation of reunion was tempered by the reality of their individual situations. DB was play wrestling with Harkiss, caught up in the moment and ignoring the uncertain future. Jonesy smiled despite himself, infected by the glee of the castle survivors. Maybe things were going to be alright after all?
**********
The spectacle of the new arrivals had set the castle ablaze with newfound hope. Those not on wall duty gathered around the huddle while keeping a respectful distance. Necks craned beyond human limits; they looked almost comical. Sergeant Holbeck looked slowly around the massive Baron’s Hall and nodded appreciatively.
“You’ve done well here. I knew you’d be ok,” he said to his two absentee troops.
“We had a great sergeant,” DB replied.
“Tell us everything,” Jonesy urged, handing over the mugs to the seated soldiers. “How the hell did you make it here?”
“Once we’d secured the civvies in Selsey, we headed out to find you. It’s been a bloody nightmare with all the blocked roads and zombies wandering around like they own the place.”
“They kind of do own the place,” Braiden said.
“That they do, son. For now,” Holbeck replied. “Anyway, we set out two days ago. We tried to get through between Bersted and Barnham, but it was dead city. We ended up heading north and looping over through Slindon and Earthem. The fields made the journey much easier.”
“It didn’t stop us getting in trouble, though,” Eldridge said.
“No, it didn’t, but we got through it and here we are.”
“Got through what?” Jonesy asked.
“We can talk about it later once we’ve settled in and worked out how to get the gear inside. I see you blocked the gates, wise move.”
“You have no idea,” Kurt said, drawing raised eyebrows from the soldiers.
“How did you know we were here, Sarge? I’ve been wondering since you trundled round the corner.”
“Morrow found you during Baxter’s rule, but he never gave you up. Once we’d got rid of the lunatic, Admiral Wright gave us leave to try and reach the pockets of survivors on the south coast.”
Kurt politely interjected. “Wait, you said pockets? And… Joan is it?”
Joan nodded.
“She was in a holiday park in Selsey?”
“That’s right,” Holbeck confirmed.
“So there are more survivors than just us?” Sarah asked.
“Lot’s more. Morrow found your heat signature and we saw the signs of the fight. It must’ve been quite the battle.”
A dark shadow of sadness passed over the faces and he didn’t press for further information. He knew the look well.
“It was, Sarge. Did he find the prison?”
“Yeah. You, the prison, the holiday park, the piers, and more every day. We’ve been trying to reach you over the radio but got nothing but static.”
“They got damaged,” explained DB. “We’ve been sitting here waiting for the artillery to rain down. Thank God you managed to regain control.”
“All thanks to this spunky soldier,” he said, patting Eldridge on the back.
“How did I know you’d be involved?” DB grinned.
“I was never one for letting bullies have their own way,” she replied.
“I’m sorry to butt in again, but you said you know about the prison?”
“We do. We were going to carry out a quick stop on the way here, but the captain insisted we head straight to you.”
“He saved you valuable time. It’s controlled by psychos and the civilians in there are being treated worse than animals,” Jonesy explained. He laid out the numbers, the sequence of events, and the arrival of the Gypsies into the mix.
“It sounds like a right clusterfu… flip,” Holbeck said, glancing at Gloria. She favoured him with a thankful smile.
“We’ve been trying to work out how we could help them, but then we had our own troubles,” Sarah added, leaving out the method of execution used on their own traitor.
“If they’re willing to kill them rather than set them free, we wouldn’t stand a chance,” Holbeck stated. It cut straight to the truth which Kurt and the group had been trying to find a way around.
“I was hoping your arrival might give us a chance.” Kurt sighed. The mental weariness was not yet fully healed, and he yearned for the peace of his room.
“Never say never,” Holbeck replied. “We can still try and talk to them. A hostage transfer for food and supplies might be an option.”
“We don’t have any supplies, remember.”
The sergeant grinned. “You didn’t have the A-Team before. We can help you out in return for your own assistance.”
“And what assistance might that be?” Sarah asked.
“We’re in the poop, literally. We have two pressing concerns that could tip the balance one way or the other. We need to secure our military assets in the Chiltern Mountains, and then retake Portsmouth so that Dauntless can dock at the naval dock.”
“How can we help? We’re not soldiers.”
“In all honesty, you’ll have your own troubles while we attempt the first task. The dead are leaving London in their millions, with a sizeable number heading right for us.”
“Millions?” gasped Peter, hardly able to comprehend the scale of the threat.
>
“The other hordes of undead are headed north towards other survivors, or towards the mountains where what’s left of our armour and infantry battalions are holed up. If they fall, and they’re already close, it’s all over.”
“Why’re they leaving? They don’t have any instinct other than to eat.”
“Somehow, they seem to know where there’s life, and they want to extinguish it.”
“Damn,” Kurt spat. The headache was quickly returning and Denise slipped him a pair of tablets that she’d been keeping safe. He squeezed her hand gratefully.
“Our mission to rescue them will be an all or nothing endeavour. If we don’t make it back, we have our own civilians to care for. Thorney Barracks is going to be near empty, and the captain would much rather they be transferred here where it’s far safer.”
“We don’t have the food to feed ourselves, much less another group,” Kurt protested.
“We’ll make sure you’re stocked up for a year or more. We can bring plenty of ration packs to supplement any food we help you retrieve from the local area.”
Sarah could see the worry on Kurt’s face, the colour draining as the burden of responsibility grew to yet more people who weren’t his family. She turned to the sergeant, “Food isn’t the primary worry. The prison has already attacked us once, and will do so again. You’d be moving them from the frying pan into the fire.”
“The prison’s attacked you?” he said, face hardening.
DB confirmed it.
“Then we need to go and have a word. The equipment we’ve brought should help you to defend this place from the dead, and the living.”
“We’ll put it to good use,” said Jonesy.
“About that…” Holbeck said, slowly.
“You want us with you,” finished DB. He knew what was coming as soon as the sergeant had mentioned their stranded compatriots.
“We’re going to need everyone. They’re in real trouble up there, and we’re their only hope.”
“Wait, you can’t leave us,” begged Kurt, glancing between Jonesy and DB. The situation just got worse and worse. Lights started to dance at the edges of his vision as the migraine took hold.