by Luke Ashton
He placed them on the side and put a teabag in one of the small ones and a spoonful of coffee in the other. He left the big one empty for now as he wanted to have some hot water for general use.
He picked up a full pack of teabags and wandered back upstairs while the kettle boiled. Dan looked at him quizzically as he tucked the tea bags into one pocket.
“Gotta have some luxuries don’t you?” Jim’s face creased into a smile.
“There. All done.” Dan said as he passed the hard drive over the couch. Jim slid it into the main compartment with the rest of the electronics. Anything with a battery was fully charged. He slipped back downstairs and filled both small mugs and started to fill the big one. He refilled the kettle and repeated the process. He carried all the thermoses upstairs and slipped the big one into his daysack. One of the small ones went on the right hand side of his webbing and he handed the other to Dan.
“Keep a hold of that will you mate?”
“But it’s like 40 degrees outside? Why the fuck would I want a brew?”
“Instant energy mate. I don’t know when we will be able to stop next so it helps to be prepared.” Dan tucked the thermos into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
“Right we’re all set to go. You ready?” Jim enquired.
“As I’ll ever be.” Replied Dan with a sigh. Jim slung his weapon once more and slipped his daysack over the top. He had a feeling he might not be returning to this house for a while yet.
Chapter 4
Jim stepped out the house and looked around once more. There was not a soul in sight. He stepped to one side to let Dan past as he pulled the door shut and locked it. Slipping the keys back into the bag he sealed them in and slipped them into their little home behind the loose brick. The heat outside was unreal but Jim didn’t look up to see how nice it was. He would be going back inside soon and wanted to see as much as possible when he went back indoors. He pulled the cocking handle all the way back and let go to put a round in the chamber. Pulling back on the cocking handle ever so slightly Jim could see the brass of the bottom of his round. Always better to be safe than to have to fuck about when he needed it.
Dan was still eyeing him suspiciously as Jim stepped out of the garden gate. He checked around his immediate area but still saw nothing. He opened next doors gate and made his way to the front door. He gave it a solid few knocks and listened. Nothing. Even the whimpering had stopped. He waited a few seconds and knocked again. Then he heard it. A slow clattering of nails on laminate. Like he had heard when he called for Rube.
“Not another fucking dog” thought Jim as he weighed up his options. There was a small snarl from the other side of the door as Jim tried the handle. It was locked. All the houses on Jim’s row were the built the same, having been built on the sole purpose of accommodating miners and their families back when the area itself was a mining town. Jim assumed they were the same layout but having only been in 2 of them he couldn’t be sure. He had viewed a house about half way down the street around the same time as he’d viewed his. He moved down the few steps to the basement door. This one hadn’t been converted into a kitchen like Jim’s but it still had a little window to the right of the door so he peered in, cupping his hand over his eyes to block out the light. In the darkness he could make out a few shapes of boxes and old brush handles but nothing more. He tried the door. Locked again. Jim sighed deeply. Her car was still here. She left every day at around the same time as Jim and always took her car. He’d never said more than 2 words to the lass but he knew she was into gardening and loved her little Jack Russell.
“What do we do now?” Dan already knew the answer but he wanted Jim to say it.
“We have to get in there and make sure she’s ok.” Jim was already pushing on the door in different places to check for locks. There was one at the top and the main lock in the middle. Even if Jim had managed to pick the door lock the bolt at the top would have stopped him. He turned to Dan. “Right, I want you to go back to the other door and listen for any sounds. Let me know if you hear anything, even the slightest little noise, ok?!” Dan looked hesitant for a second and then went and sat by the door with his ear jammed against it. Jim Leant against the wall opposite the door and made a stable platform with his back and his right leg. He then lifted his left leg and gave the door a precise kick next to the handle. The door gave a little and there was a sound of splintering wood but it held. Jim’s ankle was aching from the force.
“Sounds like a dog on laminate flooring mate. Moving fast.” Chirped up Dan from upstairs. Jim waited for a few second assuming the dog would try ripping the door apart to get to him but heard nothing.
“Shit… Sounds like it’s trying get through a door now. Might be one at the top of those stairs. What the fuck do I do?” This was good. It meant Jim could get into the house without having to deal with the dog straight away. Dan moved from the door while he had a coughing fit into his hands. He pulled out a tissue to wipe the gunky mess off his hands and Jim saw the distinct red of blood on the tissue.
“You ok buddy?”
“Yeah it’s this fucking flu it’s killing me.” He said stuffing the tissue into his pocket quickly. At that moment one of the upstairs windows flew open and the next door neighbour’s head popped out. She spotted Dan.
“Oh thank god. You have to help me. My baby girl has gone crazy and started trying to attack me. I woke up to her coughing up blood and then she went still for a bit. I thought I’d lost her but a minute later she sat back up and her eyes were like white. She tried to bite me so I ran. She trapped me up here.” She obviously meant the dog. Dan looked stunned.
“It’s ok love, we’re...”
“Paula.” She cut in.
“Sorry Paula, we’re here to get you out.” Dan was taken aback by her snappiness, I mean she wanted their help and started getting pissy because they didn’t know her fucking name. But thinking about the more serious matter at hand he just brushed it off.
“We?” She obviously hadn’t seen Jim directly below her. He stepped back up to ground level and gave her a smile.
“You’re that army lad from next door. Don’t shoot my girl. Please. I need her.” Her eyes welled up.
“If what you’re saying is right I might not have a choice. I’ve seen this happen already. They turn savage when their eyes turn white and attack anything that breathes.” Paula began to weep openly. “I know how you feel. I’ve just had to do the same to my boy.” Images of Rubes mangled head filled his thoughts once more and he forced himself to ignore them otherwise he wouldn’t be able to carry on. She muttered her apologies and he dismissed them with a wave of his hand.
“I think these things are driven by blood.” He didn’t have a clue really but he was using his extensive zombie knowledge.
“What’s in the way of her getting to you?” Jim wanted a diversion he didn’t want to go toe to paw with a psychotic Jack Russell he’d much prefer to pick it off while it was trying to get to its owner.
“Erm… There’s a door at the bottom of the stairs and my bedroom door. Why?”
“I need you to prick your finger with something and smear it on the door at the bottom of the stairs door. Ok?” She looked confused.
“You want me to get closer to Fifi while she’s trying to kill me?”
“What a fucking stupid name for a dog!” Thought Jim.
“It’s ok she can’t get to you through the door now can she?” She still didn’t look convinced but her head disappeared and sounds began to drift from the bedroom, Jim assumed she was looking for something to cut herself with. Then it went quiet. Too quiet. Dan and Jim looked at each other. A minute or so passed and she came back with a tissue round her finger.
“I’ve put like 5 drops under the door but I didn’t hear her move. She sounds like she’s destroying something. What do I do now?” She was flapping big time. She was terrified. Understandable really.
“Right so it’s not blood they want. Change of plan. I’m going to k
ick the bottom door in and move to the top of the basement stairs. Dan will watch me and when he sees me go up the stairs he will signal you. I want you to go to the bottom of the stairs and make as much noise as you can. Call her name, scream and shout, whatever it takes to get her to come at you. Remember, your safe behind a door. Once pooch…” Interrupted by an evil glare and a sarcastic clearing of the throat from Paula. “Sorry Fifi… has moved I’ll come through the door and deal with her and then I’ll come get you. Once I’ve cleared the house below you I’ll shout ‘CLEAR’ so you know. Ok?” She just stared at him for a second as though it hadn’t registered. She nodded slowly. Jim could see the cogs turning.
“Is there a lock on the basement door?” He wanted as much info as possible so he didn’t have to go in blind.
“Yes in the middle, a small bolt.” She sounded more confident now.
“Right describe you’re the house between the basement and the stairs.” Jim asked, his voice now sounding full of authority.
“Well there’s the basement door and then the kitchen. It has marble tops and…”
“No no, just the features, I don’t need colours.” Jim cut in. Eager to get this over with.
“Sorry, erm.. There’s worktops on both sides and at the back and a washing machine by the kitchen doorframe. There’s no door. My ex saw to that.” She seemed to drift off slightly into a world of her own. Jim was losing patience a little.
“OK, and after that?” Snapping Paula back into reality.
“Well there’s a couch against the kitchen wall and another against the back wall. A TV in the corner closest to you and a coffee table in front of the 2nd couch.”
“That perfect. You’re doing brilliant. Now I need you to find a weapon just in case. Preferably something blunt and hard. And then just wait for Dan’s signal ok.” She smiled at him
“OK.”
Jim moved back down the stairs and got back into his kicking stance. He gave the door another kick and it splintered, swinging open to reveal the dark, dusky basement. He brought his weapon up, clicking off the safety catch, and stepped inside moving first right to check the left hand side and then left to check the right. There was all manner of boxes and old furniture down here along with a tumble dryer and a stack of old magazines. There was a pull cord dangling from the roof and Jim gave it a tug. A single, bare bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling lit up the basement and Jim moved forward slowly. He could see now a small alcove to the right with no door on, another source of light was coming from there. Jim moved over to it as he checked round the rest of the cellar and flattened himself against the door frame. He span round into the doorway. Weapon up. Ready to fire at the first sign of any movement. Nothing. The room was half full off more boxes of crap. He lowered his weapon and began to move to the stairs. On his way past he glanced at the stack of magazines. They top ones front cover was a guy completely naked spread in his best porn star pose on a couch he looked like a typical gym buff and was hard. They were porn mags.
“Filthy bitch!” Whispered Jim to himself and moved to the edge of the wall by the stairs. Again he flattened himself to the wall turned into the stairs. Weapon at the ready and again it was clear. He glanced right through the window and saw Dan aimlessly gawking at him. He gave him the thumbs up and carefully moved up the stairs. Dan Grinned back at him and shouted something up to Paula. He could hear the dog now. It was trying it’s damndest to get through. He could hear it scratching, biting and growling to get in.
“This door is going to be a bit more difficult.” Jim thought as he looked at it. The stairs turned 90 degrees right at the top which meant Jim had to be 2 steps below the top to kick it. To get a decent kick he would have to hit it about a 3rd of the way up and not where the lock actually is. He heard Paula start up above him with a timid “here Fifi, here girl” at first and when that didn’t work she started getting louder. Jim got into position as best he could and waited. Paula was damn near shouting before the scratching stopped. Yelling at the top of her voice “Fifi, get here, come on.” Jim heard the clattering as the dog ran out of the kitchen and a bang as it collided with something, probably the coffee table. Paula started to scream as her loving pooch decided she was lunch and began trying to demolish that door instead. Jim gave the door a solid boot and he heard the wood give and splinter. There was a 3 inch gap where the door had opened and Jim threw his shoulder against it. It gave and swung open.
The scratching stopped. Jim squeezed the end of the fore grip handle and a small bipod popped out. He quickly rested it on the top of the stairs and got into position behind it. Right on cue he heard the dog hit the coffee table again. He braced himself. He had around 15 feet of kitchen to take the shot before the dog would be on top of him. He lined the sight up about 5 foot to the left of the edge of the worktop and looked above the sight, his weapon was set to ‘repetition’ which made it semi-automatic. When he pulled the trigger the gas from the round would be used to push the working parts back to eject the empty case and take a fresh round with it when it came forward. The dog emerged from the doorway a second later snarling and skidded across the tiled floor. She crashed into the opposite worktop; her legs were working overtime to get some grip. Looking like a Land Rover stuck in mud she started to gain momentum forward. Jim adjusted his aim left and squeezed the trigger. The gun recoiled and her right shoulder exploded in a plume of claret. She was thrown backwards by the force and landed in a pile in the corner. Jim waited. If he was right she would get back up and try again. Only destroying the brain or removing the head would stop a zombie. He was right. She bounded back onto her feet and, with a slight limp, started forward at him again. Jim fired again. This time her head flew back and she landed several feet away on her back. Motionless. Blood and brains spattered up the wall and a small pool appeared around her head. Jim breathed a sigh of relief as he stood up. Beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead and he could hear his heart in his ears over the ringing.
“Ear defence next time I think” Jim thought as he stood up and pushed the bipod back in. The kitchen was a small corridor down the right of the house with a doorway to the right of the front door. It had, as Paula had described, worktops down both sides that were a dark oak colour with a silver marble top on them. Half way down on the left was a sink that was full of dirty plates and cups and next to it was the hob that looked new. She obviously wasn’t big on cooking. On the tops to the right was a newish looking microwave and a few ready meals stacked next to it. At the end against the outside wall was an old washing machine with a pile of washing next to it that was nearly as big as Jim. Among the mess of brains and bits of skull he could see 2 neat holes in the front of the washer. The rounds must have gone right through. God he loved this rifle.
He moved forward, weapon pointed at the lifeless body on the floor and gave it the good news, so to speak, once more to the head to make sure. It jolted as he fired and more blood spattered out. Jim turned and moved into the living room sweeping the room from left to right. It was clear. The keys were in the door and the curtains still drawn. The TV was a 32” widescreen and currently showed some blonde haired girl with fake tits getting fucked in the ass by another muscle-bound hunk. The volume was muted. Jim smiled. She really was filth. The coffee table was on its side with its contents scattered across the floor. There was a vibrator and a small dildo among them. The 2 couches were old and fucked. They looked like they’d been around since before Jim was born.
“Clear!” called Jim and he lowered his weapon. The door slowly opened and a terrified looking face popped out. Her dark brown hair was damp and her eyes were red and swollen. She’d been crying for a while. Her cheeks were still puffy and wet.
“Where…Where is she?” Paula asked in a small voice.
“She’s in the kitchen. I wouldn’t advise you go in there.” Jim replied with a solemn look.
“I understand.” Tears welled in her eyes again. “Thank you.” She added almost as an afterthought. She pushed the
door open and walked over to him. She was a small lass of around 5’2” with a slim figure and a small gut from years of ready meals followed by dieting. She was only wearing a dressing down and it had fallen open revealing her small, perky breasts and unshaven pubic hair. In her left hand was what looked like a towel rail. She flung her arms round Jim and kissed him hard. He pulled away.
“I’m not sure now is the time for that Paula.” She stepped back and glanced around. She saw the TV and blushed.
“Shit sorry!” She exclaimed as she dropped the weapon and hunted for the remote.
“Don’t worry about it. We all do it right.” Jim wanted to make her feel at ease.
“I suppose.” She replied as she hit the off button on the remote and dropped it on the couch.
“Come on let’s get you sorted.” Jim stepped forward and began to wrap the dressing gown round her again. She flinched. “It’s ok. You’re safe now.” He tied the cord round her and moved to the door.
“Is there anyone else in the house?” He asked straight back to business.
“No why?” She asked tilting her head to one side.
“I need to clear the rest of the house. I’m Jim by the way and the fellow I’m about to let in is Dan. We’ll look after you ok?” He turned the key in the lock and opened the door. Dan was stood on the other side coughing into a tissue again.
“Hi mate, where’s the rabid pooch?” he asked without thinking.
“Dead in the kitchen. Look, I need you to look after Paula until the house is clear ok?” He heard Paula start to cry again and he pulled the thermos out of his ammo pouch. Before he handed it over he asked “Have you been bitten?”
“No, no I managed to get upstairs before she got me why?” She said pulling up her sleeves as if to prove it.
“OK, from what I’ve seen already, once you’ve been bitten by a zombie you’ll, without a doubt, turn into something similar to little Fifi over, well not a dog obviously but, I mean, you get the picture.”