Ridgetown: A Zombie Apocalypse Novel

by Philip Radford

  "We wanted to make it obvious to people where they needed to go."

  Helen still wasn't convinced about the over trusting nature of Mark and his friends.

  Any further conversation was stopped by a horrific roar that blew through the air. Helen and Mark stared at each other with eyes wide open. The new world had brought with it some unnatural sights and sounds. Seeing a corpse stand up and run around made you view the world in a different way. In the year that they had been surviving in this world, Helen and Mark had heard screams of pain and anguish that they had never thought imaginable. But this was something different.

  It sounded inhuman, as did any cries emitted by the dead, but this sounded animalistic and powerful. It sounded like the roar of a lion that had turned on a zookeeper or a bear that had been cornered by hunters.

  Before they had any more time to think about it, the first zombie staggered round the corner of the building and rushed towards them. Helen was eager to make up for her ineffectiveness earlier and rushed towards the creature. Mark shouted for her to stop but she was already there, she planted the axe straight into the top of its head and pulled it free as the zombie fell to the floor. She was about to turn back when she heard more noise around the corner. Too much noise for a single zombie to make, too much for even a couple to make. She stepped slowly towards the window they had come in through but, before she could get close enough to peer round the corner, two more zombies barged around. Followed by a third, then a fourth and a fifth.

  Helen gasped and ran back towards Mark.

  "There's too many, we have to get up to the top! Get climbing, go as high as you can!"

  He dashed past her and planted his axe in the first skull he came to, pulling the second axe from a loop on his belt and swinging it towards a second zombie. There were now eight zombies stumbling over each other, fighting to get their teeth into the fresh meat in front of them. The stumbling caused two to fall over each other.

  Helen hesitated before climbing the wall in front of her and looked back at Mark. His swing at the second zombie had missed and thrown him off balance, twisting his body as he held onto the axe still stuck in a zombie behind him. As the second zombie lunged forward, Mark held it back with his forearm, refusing to lose the first axe.

  Helen ran over and swung her axe like a baseball bat at the second zombie, bashing the blunt side against its head. She felt the bone crush and its whole body shook. It didn't fall but the moments reprieve gave Mark the opportunity to turn his attention back to the axe behind him and pull it free. Rejuvenated with both weapons, he struck both of them into the second zombie's head which, weakened by Helen's blow, collapsed into itself like a rotten piece of fruit. He kicked its chest and it fell backwards onto the two zombies that had fallen over each other.

  Helen was already using the handle of her axe to stamp down on another zombie's forehead, over and over until the handle began to bring blood away with it with each strike. A young teenage zombie lurched towards her with its arm outstretched but Helen punched it with her left hand as hard as she could, its forward momentum adding force to the strike, breaking its nose and sending it falling backwards. Without watching it land, she turned back to the first zombie and carried on striking it.

  Mark didn't have time to be impressed as two more zombies crawled into the building. Holstering his axes, he grabbed a piece of metal scaffolding pole. He used it as a spear, forcing the closet zombie into the one stood behind it, halting their progression into the building. The sheer mass of them quickly stopped him driving them back, he planted his feet and put his whole body weight into trying.

  Helen's zombie finally collapsed from the barrage its head had taken, its brain finally unable to take any more trauma. The teenage zombie was trying to get to its feet when Helen hacked at the back of its head. Her aim was off from its movement and she struck the back of its neck, hard enough to cut through the majority of the neck and sever the spinal column. She was unsure if it was dead but it definitely wasn't moving anymore. She looked at Mark as he struggled and was going to help push the scaffolding pole but knew that they didn't have time. She could hear more noise coming from the street and knew more zombies would be inside soon. They had to climb and they had to go now. She held her axe in both hands and struck the closet zombie in the side of the head, as it fell to the floor Mark managed to drive the pole slightly further forward. She swung again, as hard as she could but this time at knee level. The axe glanced off two different zombies' knees with enough force to shatter both their kneecaps.

  The sudden drop in resistance meant that Mark could drive forwards much harder, the mob of zombies all falling over each other like dominoes and pinning each other down with their struggling and lack of coordination.

  "Now! Climb!"

  Helen was already running for the climbing wall before Mark had finished shouting, she hooked the axe through a loop on her belt and dove at the wall. She was shaking with fear and adrenaline making it hard to concentrate on where to grip. Mark was flying up the wall but quickly stalled when he saw that Helen was struggling.

  "As long as we're near the top, they shouldn't be able to reach us."

  He talked calmly in an effort to make Helen relax. The more tense she was, the more likely she was to fall and hurt herself. Mark had always heard growing up that if he was ever in an accident, the best thing to do is to go limp because tensing the body makes you more prone to breaking something. He remembered the advice being backed up by anecdotal evidence that people who fell asleep at the wheel of a car were less likely to have serious injuries compared to those that were awake at the time of the crash. He was skeptical about how true this theory was but the advice had always stuck with him.

  Helen took a deep breath and started to climb again. She concentrated on the wall and where she was putting her hands and feet. Mark watched the zombies over her shoulder, they writhed about in a heap of arms and legs. He was conscious that they would soon start to get back to their feet and wanted to be in a completely different building when they did.

  Helen was climbing higher and together they reached the platform at the top of the room, they pulled themselves up and looked down. The original group were starting to stand but there was more movement around the windows. There was another inhuman roar from outside followed by more zombies pouring in through the windows.

  "What now?" Helen asked, unsure about their next move. She knew fully well that they couldn't just run into the building next door with all those zombies watching them. Zombies were dumb but they weren't that dumb, they would tear down any surrounding buildings looking for them, starting with the pub.

  "We need to get them away from here. But we can't do it on our own." He looked directly in her eyes, "Gee, I wish we had the Internet so we could message the others for some back-up."

  Helen scowled.

  Mark glanced back towards the pub, "There's a short wave radio in the pub. Follow this pathway to the front of the pub and you'll find the entrance. As soon as you go through the cat flap window, the radio's on a table to the right..."

  "Wait a minute, why are you telling me this?"

  "I'll keep these distracted while you make the call for back up"

  "How exactly are you going to do that?"

  "I don't know yet, just listen will you? Leave the radio on the wavelength it's set to and broadcast 'Swarm at the Gate', make it loud and clear." Mark thought that his plan for Helen sounded good but he didn't have a clue what he was going to do to distract them.

  Mark could see that Helen was reluctant to go, he knew he needed to act first. There had been a window behind him that they had removed incase they decided to use it as another entrance and exit. Outside was a fifteen feet drop to the car park which was surrounded by thick bushes. Mark sighed inwardly as he formulated a horrible idea that would get him hurt if he was lucky and killed if he wasn't.

  "Go! Now!" He shouted at Helen and ran towards the window frame.

  As the opening got cl
oser, Mark worried that he had misjudged the distance between the building and the bushes. He panicked that he wasn't going to make the gap and was going to hit the concrete below, breaking his legs and leaving him at the mercy of the zombies below. Knowing that he didn't have a choice spurred him onwards. He sped up for his last few strides and leaped from the window.

  Against her better judgment, Helen ran over to the window and looked outside, wanting to know if he was dead or alive. She panicked when she couldn't see him but then noticed movement in the bushes. Mark rolled out of them, bleeding from his face and hands. Even from a distance, she could see that he looked pale.

  As he shouted for the zombies to pay attention to him, Helen knew she needed to do her part. She dashed back in the direction Mark had told her to go, noticing that some of the zombies inside the building were already leaving in favour of an easier to reach meal. She followed the pathway out of the play area and round the roof of the pub. Confronted with a square window, Helen pushed it gently causing it to lift like a cat flap, just as Mark had described it. She had to duck her head as she entered the room, seeing the radio exactly where Mark had said it was. She allowed the backpack she was still carrying to fall to the floor and picked up the handset, thumbing the button, broadcasting exactly what she had been told;

  "Swarm at the Gate, swarm at the Gate!" She released the button and waited for a response.

  A few moments of static were followed by a male's voice, "Hello?"

  "Hello? There's a swarm at the Gate! We need help, now!"

  "Who is this?"

  Helen was taken aback, she had expected a confirmation as a response. The voice sounded familiar.

  "Luke is that you?"

  "Helen? Oh hey, how are you guys getting on?"

  Helen wanted to smash something.

  "There's a huge swarm of zombies at this stupid play ground entrance thing of yours and Mark's about to get eaten!"

  "Stay there! I'll get a team to you straight away."

  Her words clearly struck a chord as the light heartedness fell out of Luke's voice.

  Helen was torn between what to do next. She didn't know whether to stay by the radio or help Mark. She worried that if she left the radio, Luke might transmit again wanting to know more information. But if she waited by the radio she was leaving Mark to fight the horde by himself. She had only known Mark for a few hours but felt like she needed to help him.

  She walked out onto the pathway on the roof and was shocked by how loud the groans had become. She leaned over to look how many there were and wished she hadn't, it looked like nearly a hundred. At least it helped her make a decision about what to do, she couldn't leave Mark to fight them all alone. From where she was, she could see the wall of the estate she and Mark had come from. She wondered whether that was where Luke was going to come from but couldn't see any movement, she decided she couldn't afford to wait.

  Helen ran along the pathway and back inside the play house building. It was a lot clearer with just two zombies hobbling round inside at the far end, giving her enough time to climb most of the way down before they could grab her.

  As soon as she started her descent, the two zombies started to move forwards. When she was most of the way down, Helen dropped the rest of the way and instantly drew her axe. She swung and connected with the head of the closest zombie, a young woman whose skin was shriveled and pale indicating she had been dead a long time. Her head collapsed under the force of the blow and the lifeless corpse span away from Helen. She allowed the axe to drop down and kept the momentum going, swinging it like a golf club and driving the blade into the chin of the second zombie. Its jaw erupted into a cloud of thick dark blood and the zombie's body fell backwards.

  Not content that it was dead, Helen lifted the axe again and slammed it down into what remained of the creature's head. She didn't know whether it was because of the noise she had made or because she had been spotted, but a couple of zombies began to gather at the windows in front of her, echoing the few that had appeared before and caused Mark and herself to retreat up the climbing wall. Instead of facing them, Helen was intent on getting outside to the rear of the building where she had seen Mark launch himself.

  Through the smashed windows she could see a crowd of zombies shambling towards what she assumed to be Mark. She climbed through and instantly began hacking at the skulls of the zombies between them. She imitated Mark's methodical tactic from earlier. It was working and wasn't attracting too much attention from those that had their backs to her.

  Her arms quickly began to grow tired but she could see a gap emerging between the creatures directly in front of her and in the gap she could see quick movements, faster than the dead moved. Knowing Mark was still alive drove her on to fight harder.

  A zombie to her left turned its attention to her. Before it could moan, Helen swung the axe hard at head height, allowing the momentum of the axe to turn her. With the zombie's head decimated and chunks spraying into the air, the turn left her facing the street, staring at the flood of creatures that was coming towards her. Her determination to drive forward had distracted her to just how many zombies had gathered behind.

  With a single row of zombies between herself and Mark, she used the handle of the axe to barge past them. She forced her way through the gap to see Mark kicking kneecaps and burrowing his axes, one in each hand, into skulls as he went. More driven than before but slowly being overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of enemies. Helen spun and held her axe out, not managing to kill any zombies but knocking a group backwards into others. Her heart sank as the gap she had made instantly closed up like syrup being poured onto a plate.

  "What are you doing here?" Mark hissed through gritted teeth, flagging from the unwavering barrage he was faced with.

  "I've called for the others, they're on their way. Figured there was no point in them coming if you were dead".

  Helen sounded equally out of breath as she talked. Each time she lifted the axe, it felt heavier than before. She worried about how many times she would be able to lift it again, knowing as soon as she couldn't lift it any longer, she was dead.

  She kicked a pair of zombies backwards, allowing her arms to rest and momentarily stalling whatever else they fell into. Despite the amount they had killed, more zombies drove forward, causing them to continually step backwards into the car park. The car park was surrounded by a concrete wall that would eventually stop them retreating although they were standing their ground next to the playcentre which created a choke point into the main car parking area.

  Helen knew they could slowly retreat as the zombies pushed harder to give themself some breathing space but the zombies would then be able to fan out and attack from more angles. Plus they couldn't keep moving backwards forever, they needed a new plan. Quickly.

  Helen had barely paid attention to the fact that it was starting to get dark. The summer evening air was crisp and the clouds were tinted by the redness of the sky as the sun was beginning to set. It was still quite bright but just dark enough for an unidentified light source to stand out against the changing sky. A light hovered above the mob that seemed to be moving closer, Helen barely noticed it. Once she had noticed the light, she kept glancing at it, distracted by the way it bobbed slightly in the air. As she tried to work out what it was she realised it was making a whirring sound. The noise was barely audible above the groan of the creatures and the sounds of exertion that herself and Mark were making. It dawned on Helen that the object was a drone.

  As if realising she was watching it, the UAV zipped off behind the horde. Helen barely had time to pay it any more thought before another zombie grabbed at her. It was an old woman, or a young woman who had turned a long time ago, it was hard to tell. The shriveled skin could have been a sign of decaying just as much as it could have been a sign of aging. Its scrawny arms grasped for her with curled hands like blunt claws, the nails missing and the skin worn down to the bone, presumably from scratching at some previous victim or endlessly claw
ing at a hard surface trying to get to whatever was on the other side.

  Helen grabbed its wrist with her left hand and yanked it down as hard as she could. She felt a sickening pop and for a split second thought she had ripped the arm completely free of its socket. The miserable creature fell to the floor in front of Helen and she stamped down on the back of its head with the heel of her boot.

  Without looking up properly, she swung the axe upwards, now holding it with both hands and felt her arms shudder as it connected with another zombie's chin. The satisfaction of a clean hit overwhelmed by the dismay of another zombie being so close. Helen had hoped she would have been swinging the axe at thin air, finding the closest zombie was actually a few metres away. She was suddenly very glad she had swung the axe wildly, conscious of the fact the horde was a lot closer than a few seconds ago.

  Helen felt sick at the thought of only having a few minutes of fighting left before her body would refuse to fight any more. She afforded herself a few seconds to glance to her right where she saw Mark still fighting.

  He had an axe in each hand and was swinging each methodically, one after the other. If a zombie hadn't gone down from a strike, it was hit again. The rhythm of the attacks made it look like Mark was drumming. His persistence would have been inspiring if it wasn't so obvious how tired he had become. Each strike seemed to be slower than the last and each zombie was taking at least two hits. When she had watched him fight to begin with, Mark had been eliminating a zombie with every strike, now he was lucky to do it in two. Sweat dripped from the hair that hung just above his eyes.

  Helen noticed that he was looking over the heads of the crowd as he fought. At first she thought he was looking for something but she quickly realised that he was looking at something.

  She held the head of the axe up to the closet zombie's chest, using it to keep the creature at bay and hoping it would give her arms a few seconds of respite to recover. Instead, the zombie drove its weight towards her, causing her to use even more arm strength that she didn't have. She craned her neck upwards to try and see what Mark was looking at and thought she heard shouting.