Outbreaks: Zombies Zombies Zombies

by T. L. Frost

  Looks of concern greeted this news.

  “Won’t there be a lot more of them there?” Asked Bridget.

  “Maybe.” Replied Merrick “But I’m hoping not. The centre of the city is mostly shops, clubs etc. I think the most dangerous places will be the housing estates but I could be wrong. My plan is to go through the centre of town, straight to the garage, pick up my sister, then head north on the quietest roads I can find.”

  “Merrick, you know she may not have made it?” Asked George.

  “I know.” He replied nodding his head “But I have to find out. I promised her I would go and find her.”

  They all remained silent for a while then, thinking about what could happen.

  “I know it’s dangerous.” Said Merrick, looking from face to face “I want you all to come with me but it is up to you. If you want to stay here you are welcome to, but the supplies are low and it gets more dangerous every day.”

  “I’m with you as always.” Said George.

  “Me too.” Said Dan.

  “Good, I’m glad.” Said Merrick “Bridget? I will understand if you want to stay…”

  “No.” said Bridget shaking her head “I don’t want to stay, I think the best thing is to get as far from here as possible.”

  “Then it’s decided.” Said Merrick “We will leave first thing in the morning.”

  “Oi, you’re not leaving me behind!” Came the voice of Chantelle from the doorway.

  “Of course not.” Said Merrick rubbing his forehead “But you must do as I say if you want to come with us.”

  “Hmm well of course your Lordship.” She said sarcastically.

  Merrick sighed and turned to Dan.

  “Take a turn on watch please.” He said.

  Dan nodded and left.

  “Ok what’s for dinner?” Asked Chantelle sitting at the kitchen table “I could eat half a scabby horse between two slices of mouldy bread right now.”

  “We have ingredients for stew.” Said Bridget rising to prepare the meal “Want to help make it?”

  “No, you’re alright. I don’t do cooking.” Replied Chantelle.

  Chapter 5

  Natalie had hoped they would be ok in the garage. It was surrounded by other businesses on a small industrial estate and nobody lived too close. That had changed the day before. A fire which had been smouldering in one of the other units suddenly burst into new, vigorous life. Thick black smoke filling the area. They had closed all the windows and blocked any openings as best they could, stopping most of it but the air was still pretty bad. More zombies had appeared, probably drawn by the fire, and they wandered about, their moans clearly audible through the metal sheeting of the garage’s walls.

  “We can’t stay here.” Said Peter gasping for air.

  “I told my brother I would wait!” Replied Natalie, stifling a cough.

  “It’s getting worse, I can hardly breathe!” Said Peter.

  Natalie knew they had to move but was reluctant, it was dangerous out there. She had promised to wait for Merrick but it had been over a week now and there was still no sign of him. She felt a moment of despair, what if he hadn’t survived? But she refused to believe that, couldn’t believe it. If anyone could survive this disaster it was him.

  “Get the board from the wall.” Said Natalie, grabbing her pack and filling it with what was left of their supplies.

  Peter pulled it from the wall and handed it to her. Grabbing a pen Natalie wrote a quick message and dragged Peter out.

  “Come on, we’re leaving.” She said, picking up a tin of spray paint as they moved towards the side door.

  It was dark outside, the smoke from the fire blocking out a lot of the daylight. Natalie put the board with her message next to the door and sprayed a big arrow on the wall pointing to it, then she sprayed another pointing left and they headed in that direction. Pulling Peter along behind her, the tyre iron in her other hand, they coughed and spluttered as they tried to make their way clear of the smoke. It was black and oily, smelling of burnt rubber. Natalie knew there was a place selling tyres not far and she guessed the fire was there, so she headed across from it. Though it seemed to take a long time they eventually stepped out into clear air, both of them breathing deeply and coughing.

  “This way.” Gasped Natalie as she sprayed another large arrow on the side of a building.

  She was looking for somewhere that would be empty but easy to get into. Most of the buildings had their shutters down as the owners had fallen ill and not arrived to open for business. Then she saw what she was looking for, a building with no shutters down. A sign saying it was a local radio station.

  “In there.” She said, pointing the tyre iron.

  Moans sounded behind them as they raced for the door. Looking back, Natalie could see shapes moving in the thick smoke. The door was unlocked and when she opened it to look inside it seemed empty. Natalie pushed Peter inside then quickly sprayed ‘NAT’ in big letters on the door before rushing inside too. Everything seemed suddenly quiet, the glazing on the door blocking out most of the sounds from outside, the moans a distant murmur. They sat on the floor behind the security desk and caught their breaths.

  “At least we won’t die from suffocation now.” Said Peter looking miserable.

  “That’s the spirit Pete.” Said Natalie with a smile “Always look on the bright side.”

  Peter was not amused by her enthusiasm and his face showed it.

  “Come on then.” Said Natalie still smiling “Get your bony backside up and let’s go look around.”

  With a sigh Peter stood and followed her past reception, down a narrow corridor. It was dimly lit by light from the entrance, the few doors they passed either locked or nothing more than empty offices. At the end there was a door with a sign on it ‘Canteen’.

  “We may be in luck at last.” Said Natalie reaching for the door’s handle.

  Moans came from the other side. Peter took a few steps backwards and Natalie raised her tyre iron. They stayed quiet, Natalie holding a finger to her lips to signal silence and leading the way to the last door with a sign ‘Studios’ on it. The door was locked and Natalie turned back to Peter in frustration.

  “Canteen it is then.” She said in a decisive voice.

  Peter nodded, fear on his face as he turned back towards the canteen door and then the door behind Natalie opened. The creak of the hinges sounding loud in the quiet, deserted building. Natalie jumped away, bumping into Peter who fell, his legs tangling with hers, bringing them both down.

  “Oh for fuc…!” Began Natalie, trying to get back up as Peter thrashed about, desperate to escape.

  “Shhh!” Came a hiss from the doorway.

  A tall, thin man in his twenties stood there, waving them to enter quickly as he looked towards the canteen where the moans were becoming louder, something bumping into the door. Natalie wasted no time, jumping up and grabbing Peter by the collar of his overalls, she half led, half dragged him through the doorway. The man who had opened it quickly reclosed it, signalling them to be silent as he listened, eyes scanning the corridor through the safety glass of the door. The moaning became quieter and he led them down another short corridor, numbers of studios above doorways. They passed a vending machine, broken open and empty beside a silent coffee machine. He led them into studio three, a small space with a desk covered in electronic consoles, all silent and blank now.

  “Welcome to my humble abode. Please sit down, you look exhausted.” He said “I’m Steve.”

  “Thanks Steve.” Said Natalie gratefully sinking into a chair “I’m Nat, my clumsy friend here is Peter.”

  “You’re the first people I’ve seen in ages.” Steve said, looking at them in disbelief.

  Natalie wrinkled her nose, there was only one high window in the room letting some light in and it didn’t look like it opened.

  “You been in here long Steve?” She asked.

  “Since the shit hit the fan.” Steve replied, also taking a seat.


  “That fan isn’t in here is it?” Asked Natalie, wrinkling her nose again.

  Chapter 6

  They were up early and ready to go, fuel and their last supplies packed and secured. Everyone had a makeshift weapon, iron bars, steel tubes, anything they could find in the workshop. Merrick did a final inspection, double checking everything.

  “Generator fuelled and ready George?” He asked.

  “Just waiting on you to give the word professor.” Replied George as he stood near the shutters to the workshop.

  A portable generator had been hooked up to its motor, ready to open the door when they left, for now it was cold and silent, too noisy to be switched on until the last second. Merrick nodded checking everyone’s face, they looked nervous and scared, he wasn’t surprised. It was risky and dangerous going outside but there was really no choice. It was too dangerous so near to the city, more zombies appeared every day and they were almost out of food and other essentials. Even if he wasn’t leaving to find his sister they would soon be forced to leave anyway, or stay there, surrounded by thousands of zombies, trying to scavenge what they could.

  “Where is Chantelle?” He asked the others.

  “I told her twice to get out of bed and get ready to go.” Said Bridget “Her replies were, let’s say, not very polite.”

  Merrick nodded “Maybe she decided to stay.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Added George, which brought some quiet laughter and murmurs of agreement from the others.

  Chantelle had not been the best house guest Merrick had ever had and if the situation had been less dangerous he would have kicked her out but he had bitten his tongue and endured the incessant complaints from her ever since she had arrived, knowing they would be leaving soon. He hoped she did decide to stay, he found her high pitched, none stop chattering tedious and had not been able to make her realise that remaining quiet and inconspicuous was their best chance of surviving.

  “No time like the present.” Said Merrick nodding to George.

  Bridget and Dan were secure in the back, gripping the metal hand holds in case the ride got bumpy. George took the handle of the starter for the portable generator, bracing his foot against it.

  “Fuck me!” Came a high pitched shriek “You own a Monster Truck!”

  Everyone looked to see Chantelle standing in the doorway from the house. She stood in amazement at the sight of the truck, covered in steel plates and grating, reinforced and altered, the rear open cab now enclosed by the steel cage where Bridget and Dan sat on newly constructed benches. In big letters down the sides of the bright red truck were the words ‘Demon Smasher’ a picture of a horned, snarling demon’s face was painted large on the front.

  “Wait for me!” Shouted Chantelle as she ran forward, climbing up to the front cab of the truck and sitting in the passenger seat.

  “Maybe you should get in the back, I’ll need George to…” Began Merrick.

  “I call shotgun!” Shrieked Chantelle, whooping as she fastened her seatbelt.

  “Keep quiet!” Hissed Merrick “This place is surrounded, I don’t want a pack of those things waiting outside when that door opens.”

  “Oh chill out man!” She replied sarcastically “Road trip!” And she whooped even louder “Come on old man.” She called to George “You’re holding us up!”

  George looked at her with a raised eyebrow, shaking his head slightly, then looked at Merrick who nodded again, signalling it was time. Merrick turned the key, starting the truck’s big engine, the low throaty roar soon joined by the noise of the portable generator as George started it, hitting the ‘Open’ button on the workshop’s shutters.

  “Come on old man! Run!” Shouted Chantelle, laughing as she reached over, hitting the horn on the truck’s steering wheel.

  “What the hell!” Merrick pushed her hand away as the truck played out a loud, noisy tune. “Get in George, quick!”

  Bridget lowered a short ladder as she opened the cage at the rear and George, after standing in shock at the sudden noise inside the workshop took a quick step towards the truck. A hand reached under the slightly opened shutters, grabbing George’s ankle. With a cry of surprise he fell as his leg was pulled backwards, scraping against the metal. He shouted in pain, eyes wide as another hand grabbed his other ankle, dragging him under the slowly opening shutter, screams and moans coming from the other side. Merrick unfastened his seat belt, grabbing a large, long-handled hammer and had taken one step down the side of the truck, when George disappeared completely, blood and shreds of cloth staining the bottom of the metal door. Merrick gritted his teeth and climbed back into the driver’s seat, giving Chantelle a look of utter hatred. She avoided his gaze as George’s brief shouts of pain and fear were quickly cut off.

  “Lock it up.” Said Merrick to Bridget.

  As Bridget closed the rear cage again, Merrick backed the truck up to the wall and gunned the engine. The shutters continued to rise and some zombies crawled under. About a dozen were inside as the metal door rose high enough for the truck to get out, they screamed as they sighted the passengers, hurling themselves at the truck, climbing up the sides, fingers trying to reach through the grating, teeth biting on metal, the truck rocked as more and more joined them, others attracted by their screams came running towards the house.

  “Hold tight!” Yelled Merrick, and he gunned the engine.

  The truck jerked suddenly forward, the reinforced front bumper smashing into the group of zombies at the workshop entrance, spilling them like pins in a bowling alley. The powerful engine dragged along other zombies as they held onto the truck, flesh and blood scraping off onto the tarmac as Merrick turned out of his property onto the road. Bridget and Dan furiously stabbed through the holes of the cage, trying to dislodge the zombies there as they pulled at the metal frame. Chantelle shrieked and screamed in the passenger seat as she watched wide eyed.

  “Quiet!” Yelled Merrick again.

  “Fuck you! We’re all going to die!” She replied.

  Eventually the last zombie fell away, its screams receding into the distance as Merrick drove through the otherwise quiet streets. Ahead and behind, more zombies appeared, drawn by the screams of the others but they soon passed them, one or two smashed to the ground by the truck and crushed under its huge wheels. They were everywhere and Merrick drove fast, knowing that enough of them could turn the truck over or damage it. The streets flew past, the truck’s engine loud as Merrick floored the accelerator, zombies hearing it came running out, but by then most had been left behind. Chantelle sat crying in the passenger seat, occasionally shouting insults or threats at Merrick but he just ignored her, concentrating on getting out of there.

  “Oh shut up.” He said eventually, feeling drained and tired.

  She did and Merrick thought back to the workshop, seeing George caught by the zombie again and dragged towards the opening, other hands reaching, clawing at his flesh…. Merrick didn’t have many friends and he was ok with that, but the loss of one stung him more deeply than he thought possible, George didn’t deserve to die like that, he was a good man. The scenery changed as they reached the centre of town. The roads replaced by wide stretches of pavement, pedestrian areas for shoppers. Clubs, shops, restaurants, pubs and fast food take-aways were all around as Merrick slowed, the engine a lot quieter. Most places were closed, the windows shuttered. The city seemed deserted after the mad drive through the residential areas to the south and they all looked about in silence as the truck rolled steadily along.

  “It was his own fault.” Said Chantelle after a few minutes “George was old and…”

  “Don’t you dare say his name.” Said Merrick cutting her off with a stare.

  “But it…” She began again, only to be silenced by Merrick’s raised hand.

  “Listen.” He said, looking ahead “Can you hear that?”

  They all looked ahead, a low humming, murmuring sound could be heard, getting louder quickly. A zombie stepped out of the entrance to a l
arge cinema complex up ahead. Turning, it looked straight at the truck, its head going back, mouth opening. Merrick hit the accelerator, teeth gritted, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. The truck surged forward as the zombie screamed. They picked up speed, heading up the wide open pedestrian area which passed the cinema but before they passed a large group of the creatures burst from the entrance, twenty, thirty, more still pouring out as they raced into the open. The truck gained speed but Merrick knew it was too close. As they levelled with the cinema, the front of the growing horde smashed into the side of the truck, the passengers yelling in fear as it rocked violently, the wide rear wheels losing their grip, the truck spinning to face the other way as it came to a halt. Zombies jumped up onto the front as Merrick put the truck into reverse, wheels screeching as he spun the steering wheel, turning the truck away from the growing horde of zombies still spilling from the cinema, the rear bumper knocking them over to fall beneath the wheels. The engine roared again as he tried to get away but they didn’t move. Blood spurted into the air behind the truck as its wheels spun, smashing the bodies of the zombies underneath, flesh and blood stripped away, the slippery writhing mass under the truck getting larger as more zombies hurled themselves at the truck from the rear and sides. They moved forwards, but slowly, as the tyres sought to find a grip on the wet, bloody ground.

  “Come on!” Yelled Merrick as he rocked forward, willing the truck to move.

  More zombies smashed into the truck, forcing it to slide sideways, the wheels spinning madly, and then a wheel found some grip and the truck surged away, zombies spilling to the ground behind it. Again Bridget and Dan fought furiously in the back, stabbing at any zombies clinging on to the truck until they had all fallen, broken and bloodied, back onto the ground. Looking into the mirrors Merrick could see them chasing as the truck sped away until finally he turned a corner and they were gone from sight, their screams and moans fading into the distance. He let out a sigh of relief.