Journal of the Living

by John Moralee

  The picture returned in colour – green and orange and white. It showed heat sources as orange and white, revealing the fires burning inside Oxford had destroyed over fifty percent of the buildings. The helicopter was still ablaze. Living humans showed up as orange blobs around the hospital and other areas not yet taken over by the zombies. Some were civilians forced to join the Pure Bloods. Others were clearly armed and dangerous. Dex relayed more instructions to his soldiers. They were moving in on the perimeter of the zombie trench. It looked like Dex’s people were shooting zombies to make an escape route for the enemy, which was something I would not have done after they had done so many bad things. But Dex didn’t see them all as the enemy. He had once been one of them. Dex wanted to save the ones he could. That made him a better man than I was. Personally, I would have let the whole lot burn after seeing what they had done to people in the prison. I honestly didn’t understand half of what was going on – but I could see survivors running out of the city with their hands up. Maggie looked worried. I didn’t understand why – until I remembered her sister was a Pure Blood. Even though Maggie’s sister had been betrayed her and nearly her fed to zombies as a result, she still cared about her life. Kim and I could not contribute to the battle – but we helped out by making coffee for the radio operators, keeping them alert until, hours later, Dex declared the operation over.

  “The Oxford base is completely destroyed,” he announced to the room. “We’ve managed to save 124 civilians. 28 Pure Bloods have surrendered. The rest – including their colonel – died. Well done, people. Today we won a major victory. The Pure Blood Army has lost control over the south of England!”

  Everyone cheered. Kim banged her cup against mine. “Wish we had some champagne to celebrate. Coffee doesn’t quite do it. I’m going to find some beers. Want to join me?”

  I really wanted to go back to my caravan, where I had left Angela sleeping. “Maybe later, Kim. I’m dead on my feet. I need some rest.”

  Most people looked overjoyed by Dex’s announcement – but I noticed Maggie was quietly crying in a corner. I went over to her. “Maggie, what’s wrong?”

  “They found my sister.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not crying because she’s dead, idiot. She’s alive. They’re bringing her here. I’m crying because I’m actually happy, even though she did let them hang me over a zombie pit. Am I messed up or what?”

  “Hey – she’s your sister. You love her no matter what she did. The Pure Bloods brainwashed her.”

  Dex nodded to me. I joined him. “Do you want to debrief me now?”

  “Oh – forget that. It’s not important now. I just wanted to thank you. I didn’t have the guts to attack Oxford until you went in and destroyed their helicopter. I owe you, Ben.”

  “What happens next?”

  “Well, the Pure Bloods still have their other bases – so it’s not like we’re won the war. I’m not going to be complacent. They will not let us enjoy our victory for long. But it is a start. If there’s anything I can do for you, say the word and it’s done.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said. “You mind if I talk to Lynchpin?”

  “No. Go ahead.”

  Lynchpin was sitting at his computers, watching four screens at once showing scrolling data I could barely read, never mind understand.

  “That was impressive,” I said. “How on earth did you get control over a Russian satellite?”

  The hacktervist shrugged. “It wasn’t too hard. It was an old one sent up during the Cold War. It only had 32-bit encryption. That’s like child’s play.”

  “So … can you get images from anywhere on your computer?”

  “As long as a hackable satellite is over it, yeah. Why?”

  “I have to go somewhere. I’d like to see it from above. Can you do that?”

  “Uh – sure. What’s the GPS coordinates?”

  “I have no idea – but I do know the location on a map. Will that do?”

  “I suppose old-school will work.”

  I told him about the alpha site, not far from the burnt-out ruin of the mansion where Billy and his biker gang had captured me. Lynchpin pulled up the recorded images, his fingers working magic on his keyboard. “This is the general location. Can’t get a live image at the moment – there are no active satellites over the area right now - but I saved all the data from the Russian sat on a hard drive. It will have captured images this morning. Here. Is this what you want?”

  An aerial shot of a forest appeared on the large screen. I didn’t understand what I was seeing until I saw the mansion and orientated the image in my mind. “Can you get that area bigger?”

  “Sure.” Lynchpin frowned. “You mind me asking what are you looking for?”

  “An electricity substation. My friends were supposed to go there. I want to see if they are still around. This is confusing. All I can see are trees. It’s too distant to make out anything on the ground. Can you zoom in like you did over Oxford?”

  “Hold on. I’ll look for buildings. Is that it?”

  I could see something square surrounded by a perimeter fence. “Yeah. That’s the substation. We picked it because of the metal fence.”

  “Looks like someone is camped there.” Lynchpin zoomed in on a tent inside the perimeter. “Looks like your friends are waiting there for you.”

  “That’s great. Thanks for the help.”

  “Uh-oh – don’t thank me yet, dude.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think I’ve just seen something. Just a sec. Look at this down here.”

  Lynchpin panned out and pointed at a road. He zoomed in and I saw people, lots of people. People with no heat signature in the IR because they were long dead, but still walking along the road in a vast group, like a herd of cattle. Lynchpin’s eyes widened. “Dude, there’s a whole horde of zombies heading that direction. Thousands of them. I’m afraid you’re friends are camped in the wrong place, Ben. They will soon be in major trouble. Hell – this image was recorded four hours ago. The zombies could already have got to your friends’ camp. I’m am really sorry, Ben. Looks like they’ll be dead by now.”

  ENTRY FORTY-THREE

  “They’re not dead unless I see their bodies,” I said, glaring at the zombie horde heading for the electricity substation. “That picture is hours old. The zombies might still be some distance off. Can you get a live picture?”

  Lynchpin groaned in reply, typing commands into his computer that produced the same response several times: CONNECTION LOST.

  “Sorry. I’m not receiving anything. The link’s down.”

  “I need to see what’s happening now.”

  “I know. I’ll keep trying.”

  I left him to talk to Dex, quickly explaining the dire situation. “Zombies are heading for the camp and they don’t have a clue. You said you owe me – so help me save them.”

  “I don’t have anyone near that location – but I’ll give you anything you need to get there.”

  “A fast car. A really fast car. Got one of them?”

  Dex nodded. “We’ve got a few sports cars hidden in the barn taken from a dealership. They’re brand-new with full tanks of petrol. I kept them in case we ever needed an urgent escape. You can pick what you want.”

  “That’s good. I’ll take whatever’s the fastest.”

  “Okay. Consider it done. What else do you want?”

  There were plenty of things I wanted. I wrote a list. Dex promised he’d get everything in five minutes. I returned to the caravan to pick up some personal things. Angela was sleeping in the bedroom. I looked in on her. She deserved to know I was leaving, but she was sound asleep. I knew if I woke her she would insist on coming with me – but she was not fit enough to risk her life. And I was unwilling to risk it too. She was safe in the caravan, where she could rest and recover. So, reluctantly, I left a note explaining why I was going without her, which I left for her to find when she woke up. It wasn’t a farewell lette
r – but it felt like it because I was going into a zombie-infested hell-zone. I kissed her and sneaked out, wishing I would see her again.

  Dex had got everything ready for me. A black-and-white chequered rally car was parked at the gates, the engine revving with awesome power. Lynchpin was standing next to it holding a sat nav. “I couldn’t get another live sat feed – but I’ve programmed in an optimised driving route. It avoids the major zombie zones and worst roads. I hope it helps.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “I’ve also had another look at the sat photos. You need to see this enlarged pic. It reveals more a lot more detail.”

  I looked at it and nodded. “Thanks. That’ll be useful, too.”

  Dex strode over to me. He handed me the car’s key. “The boot’s loaded with weapons. And it has a nitrous tank. Just open the valve and you’ll get a speed boost like a mule kick. I also have something else. Here – take these.”

  He gave me a large combat knife in a sheath and a gun. The gun was a revolver loaded with six bullets. I slipped the knife into my boot and the gun into my jacket. We shook hands.

  Dex looked sadly into my eyes. “You understand why I can’t go with you?”

  “Yeah. You’re needed here. Look after Angela.”

  “You got it. Good luck, Ben.”

  I jumped into the car, which had been emptied of rear seats so the nitrous tank could fit there. Seconds later, I was racing along a country road at twice the speed limit. There were no police to stop me – or Pure Blood patrols – or vigilantes – or any other vehicles – so I increased my speed even more. My body was pinned back by the acceleration. Everything flashed past. The last time I had been in a car driving so fast I had been on a German autobahn – a smooth, straight line – but I was on a curvy, potholed, bumpy road. Over a bump I literally took out and flew. Landing hard, I lost control, nearly crashing into a stone wall. I braked just in time. Realising I wasn’t a Top Gear presenter with a death wish, I had to slow down as I raced through a village and up a blind hill. I pushed up the speed again once I saw the road ahead was clear and straight. I release the nitrous and felt the car bolt forward. I hit a hundred and forty going downhill. The sat nav on the dashboard was barely keeping up with my actual position as I made a sharp turn at the bottom, where the road forked. In a couple of minutes I encountered the tail end of the zombie horde crossing the road ahead. There were about fifty of them in my path. Slowing down and going around them was not an option. I speeded up and drove straight through them, knocking bodies aside like rag dolls. Blood and gore hit my windscreen. And I glimpsed a disembodied head bounce off the roof and roll like a football. But I made it through, though the rally car made a weird screeching noise as it caught pieces of the living dead in its wheels. The front was splattered with twitching limbs and a rotting brown torso attached to a fleshless skull. The zombie’s one eye swivelled in its socket and seemed to stare at me. I jerked the wheel to shake the zombie off. Then I turned on the windscreen wipers and wiped a sludge of decaying body parts out of my vision, not even slowing down.

  I was coming up to another junction. To my right the road was filled with zombies, thousands of them, all heading towards the substation. It was impassable – but the other road had fewer zombies. It added miles to my journey – but it meant I’d get to the substation from the other side and approach it from the opposite direction, hopefully beating the horde.

  The road wasn’t clear of dangers, though. More zombies veered into my path, forcing me to steer around them or into them, depending on how decayed they looked. I avoided hitting the fresh-looking ones because they would not break apart on impact with my bumper. I hit the decaying ones dead on. After a mile of hit-and-run splatter-fests, during which my rally car started to resemble Lady Gaga’s infamous meat dress, I broke through the horde onto the empty road ahead. I raced to the next junction, then turned down a narrower road, dodging around a smashed bread lorry that had dropped its cargo of wooden crates across both lanes. I smashed through them, turning the crates into kindling.

  After that, I avoided another smashed car and got onto the road leading to the substation. I was in an area rich in forest land. A line of pylons appeared over the tops of the trees. They linked to the substation as part of the defunct national grid.

  “Nearly there,” I said.

  I braked. Then I studied the road through binoculars. There was no sign of any zombies down the road as far as I could see. That was a huge relief – but I didn’t relax. I restarted the car and drove the remaining distance at a crawl, looking left and right, checking for zombies in the forest. The substation was on my left behind a steel fence. I parked next to a gate marked with grim warning signs.

  DANGER OF DEATH!

  HIGH VOLTAGE ELECTRICITY!

  NO ENTRY!

  No electrical power made the warnings an empty threat – but the barbed-wire on the fence itself should have kept intruders out anyway. There was a dark-green tent on the other side in front of a small square concrete building under a huge pylon. My arrival must have been heard by anyone nearby, but nobody appeared. If Sadie, Hayley and Jason were waiting there, they would be naturally cautious when a gore-soaked sports car drove up to their hiding place. I didn’t want to frightened anyone by going in unannounced. I climbed out and left my door open.

  “Hey!” I called out. “Sadie? Hayley? Jason? It’s me – Ben!”

  When nobody answered me, I walked up to the gate. There was a chain and a padlock. The padlock was locked. I shook the gate. The chain rattled. The silence made me uneasy.

  “Hey!” I shouted louder. “Come out! I’m alone! It’s safe!”

  I heard a noise from the substation building. A door creaked open an inch. Someone looked out through the crack.

  I smiled and showed my hands were empty. “See? It’s me!”

  The door swung open and Jason stepped into the sunlight. His face was bruised. He did not look happy to see me. I drew my gun. There was someone pushing Jason forward, hiding in the shadow, using him as a human shield. There was a gun pointed at Jason’s head. Jason’s hands were tied up and the other person was shifting side to side, making a difficult moving target. I felt my heart punch my ribs. Jason shuffled forward. The man behind him was grinning.

  “We meet again,” he said.

  “Billy. You’re still breathing? I hoped you’d died.”

  “I’m not easy to kill, Ben.”

  “How’d you survive?”

  “I had a stolen Pure Blood uniform I slipped on when they started attacking us. I sneaked away dressed like one of them. Had to shoot some of my own people to make myself look like one of them – but I did what was necessary to live. Looks like you did too. Where’s the others – Angela and Neal? Are they dead?”

  “None of your business, Billy.”

  Billy sneered. “I knew you’d come back here when I didn’t find your body at the church. I’ve been waiting for you. Your friends have been keeping me company. Drop the gun, Ben.”

  “Shoot him!” Jason yelled.

  Through the fence it was a tough shot. Clint Eastwood could have done it. Jack Bauer, too. But I was not a dead shot.

  “Okay!” I said.

  I dropped my gun.

  “Kick it away,” Billy said.

  I kicked it into the dirt.

  Billy emerged then into the sunlight, knocking Jason to his knees with the butt of his gun. Billy aimed his gun at me as he came closer. He had the key to the padlock in his other hand. He opened the gate and stepped back, gesturing grandly like a Victorian dandy. “Why do come in and join us, Ben! You are the final guest at my party. Guys, he’s here!”

  Some more men emerged from the building. Four swarthy-looking men armed with knives and swords. It looked like Billy had the only gun. His new gang looked like they had never seen soap and water. One was as big and ugly as a bear with mange. Two wore biker leathers. The fourth reeked from ten feet away of sweat.

  I stepped through th
e gate. Billy let one of his men frisk me, the big one. “Be careful, Vince. Don’t miss anything.”

  Vince took away my gun. Billy grabbed it off him so he had two guns, one in his hand, one in his belt. Vince emptied my pockets, tossing my things on the ground. I was hoping Vince would miss the knife in my boot – but he found it.

  “Billy, can I keep this?”

  “Sure,” Billy said. “Tie his hands behind his back. Say, Ben, you remember that time you tied me up as your prisoner? Good times, huh?”

  Once my hands were tied, Billy punched me in the stomach so I fell down gasping. He stood over me, leering. “Fantastic car by the way. I prefer red Ferraris – but rally cars are great too. What on earth did you do to it – drive it into a slaughterhouse?”

  “Something like that,” I said. “What have you done with Sadie and Hayley?”

  “They’re in there,” he said, indicating the substation. “Alive for now. I didn’t want to kill anyone until I had you, Ben. My brother’s dead because of what you did. My gang’s destroyed, too. You have to suffer for that. I’m going to make you watch me torture the woman, then the boy, then the little girl. I’ll only give them a merciful death when you beg me to kill them. And then, when they’re dead, I’m going to do the same to you.”

  “You’re insane, Billy.”

  “No – I’m a rational man living in an irrational universe. This world is insane. Zombies don’t exist in a normal world, Ben. People like me are the new kings. I love it. This world is my world and you are just an ant under my shoe. I’m going to stamp on you, Ben.”

  One of Billy’s men had gone to my car. He was one of the bikers. He was looking in the back. “Billy, he’s got a load of empty ammo boxes in here. What do you want me to do with them?”

  “Empty boxes are useless,” Billy said. “What do you think I’d want with them?”

  “Why don’t we just kill them and go?” the man said. “I mean, we’ve been waiting ages for this guy. I want to go north. Now we have a car like this we can leave.”