Zero Hour (Zombie Apocalypse Book 2)

by James Loscombe

  She took the stick. “Thank you.”

  He stepped aside and she walked the rest of the way down the path.

  There appeared to be only three zombies, but she couldn’t take that for granted. She stopped between the Sullivan brothers and the children. It seemed wrong to just start hitting them when they were still so fresh and lifelike, but there was nothing she could do to save them and delaying would only put the rest of the group at risk.

  Beth swung back the club and went towards them.

  * * * * *

  The club connected with the side of Michael’s head and knocked it sharply to the side. If he had still been human, it would have killed him instantly, but he was a long way from human and simply carried on towards her with his head hanging horizontally on his shoulders.

  A moment later all three of the zombies had lost interest in the children. They came towards her now, and she drew them further away, backing up along the dirt track towards the forest to give the others a chance to get to safety.

  She felt Noel beside her, and she wanted to tell him to get out of the way, to run back to the cave and hide like he had wanted her to do. But then she saw another bat in his hand and thought that it would be better if he stayed.

  Michael came back towards her, with his head on askew. Beth lifted her leg and kicked him in the chest with the flat of her foot. He stumbled backwards, and she turned in time to take a swing at William as he approached her from the side.

  Next to her Noel was trying to deal with Trevor but she didn’t have enough time to help him. Michael was coming towards her again. She lifted the bat and moved towards him, this time, she was going to have to finish him and even the odds.

  She hit Michael in the head but not hard enough to remove it from his body. She swung again and this time, he fell down. Somewhere in the background, William was moving, but he didn’t come towards her, and she didn’t turn to get a better look at what he was doing. She guessed that she must have hit him harder than she thought and he couldn’t get up.

  There was screaming, but it was too distant for her to worry about. She had plenty in her immediate surroundings to concern her.

  Michael came back again, more slowly, this time, showing obvious signs of injury, his arms out in front of him as he stumbled across the clearing.

  Beth swung again and hit his head. She heard something click that shouldn’t have clicked and then his legs gave way beneath him. Something in his spine must have broken, but she knew, from experience, that it wouldn’t stop him being a threat.

  She moved quickly towards the zombie, trying not to think of it as Michael Sullivan, and swung the bat again. She struck the head and felt it give way, like an egg shell. The dull light went out of the creature’s eyes, but she wasn’t convinced that it was safe yet so she hit it again and then again for good measure. She wasn’t satisfied until she felt the ground through its skull.

  Beth stood and wiped the sweat and blood off her head. She finally turned to see what had happened to William, and it felt as if her heart suddenly stopped.

  He was on the other side of the clearing, but he wasn’t alone. There was someone there with him, hanging from his arms like a piece of meat. She couldn’t see who it was.

  She turned once to look at Noel and saw that he was close to finishing with Trevor. Then she ran towards the youngest Sullivan brother with her bat held high.

  Beth hit the zombie from behind, and it fell over the body it had been eating. She hit it again and again until she was convinced that it wouldn’t get back up. Then she kicked it and rolled it away from the person it had killed.

  For a terrible moment, she thought that it was Dawn. When she saw that it wasn’t she felt relief and then guilt because she was glad that it was another child, rather than her sister.

  She looked down at the tiny, mutilated body, and she couldn’t bring herself to cry. She didn’t remember the child’s name, but that didn’t matter. He was dead, and it was because of her. It was because she had let the Sullivan brothers leave the camp in the first place and because she hadn’t been quick enough to kill them when they came back.

  * * * * *

  They lit a fire and burned the bodies. It was the only way to be sure they couldn’t come back, nor infect anyone else. Beth stood at the back of the group and watched. Noel had wanted her to say something, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  The boy’s name was Aaron, and he was eight years old. His parents had both been killed during the final outbreak in Harmony, but he and his sister, Emily, had escaped. As the fire burned his body, his little sister sat with Rachel and cried.

  “It wasn’t your fault you know.”

  Beth turned towards Noel. She was beginning to wonder whether he was following her around. He had changed since the fight which was surprising. She didn’t think anyone else had bothered to bring a spare clothes with them.

  “You couldn’t have known what was going to happen,” he said.

  “Where’s Dawn?” she said.

  Noel sighed. “She’s down at the front with the other children.”

  Beth looked until she saw her sister. She was sitting with some of the other children staring at the dead bodies as they burned in the fire.

  “Make sure she gets back to the cave,” she said.

  “Where are you going?” Noel said.

  “For a walk. I need to clear my head.”

  “Do you want some company?”

  “No. Just make sure Dawn’s okay.”

  Noel nodded, and she turned away. She couldn’t stand to be with the rest of the group knowing what she had done. Once again she wondered if she should have ever taken them away from Harmony. Sure, the water was poisoned, and over time they would have all turned to zombies, but they would have been safe for a while.

  She walked towards the forest and then turned towards the cave. She had no interest in walking, but she didn’t want to be around people. When she got back, she lay in her space and pulled the blankets over her head. Sleep was a long time coming and first she had to get through the tears.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  She tried not to think about the fact that they had left her for dead. When it occurred to her, she told herself, that there was no way they could have known. Instead, she tried to focus on how relieved they would be when she returned, and they saw that she was alive.

  Velma had known that they wouldn’t be at the medical compound, but she’d gone there to check anyway. Once the village had been compromised, they would have retreated to Eastern Bridge, which was both larger and more secure. While she had been in the medical compound, she had outfitted herself with all the supplies she would need to make the journey. The only thing she hadn’t been able to get was a vehicle.

  It had taken almost two weeks to reach Eastern Bridge but, as the sun set on her makeshift camp that evening, she could see its walls in the distance. One more day of trekking and she would be back amongst her friends and colleagues. She could hardly expect a hero’s welcome, but there were people who would have missed her.

  She pulled the sleeping bag over her head and blocked out the moonlight. The best thing to do would be to sleep so that she was rested and prepared to cover the final miles the next day. It would be silly to go now, while she was tired, and risk encountering a group of zombies that she couldn’t fight nor run away from. Foolish to risk getting herself killed so close to her ultimate goal.

  Yet a part of her was tempted.

  Velma tossed and turned on the hard ground, but that wasn’t what kept her awake. She had gotten used to discomfort over the last two weeks, but she couldn’t close her eyes without seeing herself walking to the compound gate and waving at whoever was on guard duty.

  Finally, she sat up, crossed her legs and looked across the darkness towards where she knew the compound to be. She estimated six miles but the terrain was rough, and it might take her all night to cover it.

  Was she really going to go?

  Now that she
had considered it an option she knew that she wouldn’t be able to sleep. With a small amount of reluctance and a lot of trepidation she stood and began to gather her things. She considered leaving the sleeping bag and cooking gear, but that seemed as foolish as going at all; she had no way of knowing what she might encounter along the way, and she would die of embarrassment before she died of starvation if it turned out she needed her supplies.

  Once she was packed and ready, she took a final look around. The night was quiet and still. There was no sign of any zombies close by, but she had encountered enough now to realise that didn’t mean she was safe. She crossed herself and then started to walk.

  * * * * *

  The journey was easier than she had expected. The first half was all downhill into a deep ravine that was overgrown with trees and plants. She moved slowly, both to avoid exhaustion and also so that she might spot any zombies before they spotted her.

  When she reached the bottom, which she estimated to be halfway, she stopped and sat on a rock. She was glad that she had decided to bring her little gas stove and pans so that she could boil some water and make tea.

  The excitement of finally reaching home had begun to be replaced by exhaustion, but there was no question of spending what remained of the night in the ravine. Now that she had started she needed to finish the journey. She was too vulnerable in the dark.

  She began to climb and occupied herself by wondering whether she would run into any guards. She knew that the compound sent people out to hunt for zombies, but couldn’t remember whether they did so at night. If she came across one, she wondered, would they mistake her for a zombie and shoot her? Was there anything that she could do to prove that she was human from a distance?

  Nothing came to mind, but the problem helped take her mind off the walking. No time at all seemed to pass as she climbed the steep hill and, inch by inch got nearer to home.

  * * * * *

  She came up on the wrong side of the compound. The sheer stone walls were imposing, and there was little room to walk beside them. But the other option was to go back down the hill and move around it that way. So Velma tightened the straps on her bag and began to edge her way along the narrow ledge which was the only thing separating her from a long fall to the hard ground.

  The compound seemed bigger than it had done before. She supposed that walking precariously around it, as she was, was bound to make it seem that way. Even so, she was impressed. It took almost forty minutes to walk half way around to the drawbridge which led to the main entrance.

  Velma stood and looked at Eastern Bridge Compound. The final remaining outpost of the armed forces and, therefore, of the legitimate government. She had travelled a great distance to reach it and, it seemed fair to think, that most of the people who had known her, probably believed her dead. If not then they would have come looking for her, wouldn’t they?

  The first sign that was anyone there was the click of weapons being released from safety mode. Slowly (sudden movements now wouldn’t be smart) she raised her hands.

  “Who are you?” said a gruff male voice from behind. She wondered if he’d come alone. It seemed foolish in the current circumstances.

  “Velma Beck,” she said. “Doctor Velma Beck.” She had an official rank, but it had been granted to her after the zombies came. The title of doctor was one she had earned in the world before and more valuable because of it.

  “You’re lying,” the man said. He was standing behind her, and she expected, at any moment, to feel the barrel of his gun pressed against the back of her head. Perhaps it had been a mistake to come at night.

  “I know you thought I was dead,” she said, keeping her voice low and calm so as not to seem like a threat.

  “Turn around,” the soldier said.

  Velma turned very slowly, keeping her hands in the air. She was surprised when she recognised the young soldier who was standing there.

  “Tom?” she said.

  He looked at her as if he didn’t know who she was. Could she have changed so much in just a few weeks?

  “Tom it’s me, Velma.”

  He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Before he could answer her, the gate to the compound opened. She turned to look and saw three people coming towards her. She didn’t recognise them, so she looked back at Tom, silently pleading with him to tell her what he meant.

  “Doctor Beck!”

  A woman who looked young enough to be her daughter came forwards, hand out and a false grin pasted on her face. Velma took the proffered hand. “And you are?”

  “There will be plenty of time for introductions,” the woman said. “Please, follow me.”

  Velma took a final look at Tom and got no reaction from him. She turned away and followed the young woman and towards the gates and into the compound.

  * * * * *

  She had been gone from Eastern Bridge for a lot longer than she realised. Things had changed. It hadn’t just been the time she’d spent trecking through the forest but the time she had spent in the medical outpost before that. It was all different now and when she first walked through the doors, she couldn’t help but wonder whether she really belonged there anymore.

  The woman, who didn’t reveal her name, led her through the compound to the buildings in the middle.

  Eastern Bridge had been her home for a long time, and she wanted it to feel that way again. The ground was chipped tarmac, and the walls blocked out the view of the forest beyond. She could see a few men and women in uniform beneath the glare of the floodlights. As far as she could see, there were no lights on in any of the buildings.

  The woman opened the door for her, and Velma went inside. She had expected to remember the smell, and for it to bring back all kinds of memories, but there was nothing. The door behind her fell closed after the three soldiers followed her in.

  They led her along corridors which had once been familiar but now only reminded her of how long she had been gone. The only sound was their footsteps, cracking the silence that seemed to have a weight to it. The woman didn’t speak until they reached the living quarters.

  “This is your room,” the woman said.

  It was, or at least it had been. The wooden door looked both familiar and not. It felt like stepping into a movie scene.

  “Your stuff is still there.”

  Velma nodded. “Is Harold here? Can I speak to him?”

  “It’s the middle of the night. He’s asleep. I’m sure he’ll want to see you in the morning.”

  The woman opened the door, and Velma stepped inside. There wasn’t much more than a bed in the little room and shelves on the wall. Finally, she was somewhere that felt familiar. It reminded her of going home to see her parents for the first time after leaving for university.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  The woman nodded and smiled, but it didn’t appear genuine. Velma watched her walk away and then closed the door behind her.

  * * * * *

  She slept late the next day. Finally enclosed in the softness of real clothes and blankets, she didn’t have any defense against her bodies need for rest. She had nothing to do either, except wait for Harold to arrive.

  According to the clock by her bed, it was 11:03 when she finally got up. Her body was stiff and uncooperative, it felt like her enemy, and she was embarrassed by how dirty she suddenly seemed. Perhaps, she thought, that was the reason for the woman’s cold attitude towards her the night before; she had been reluctant to get too close to somebody who smelled as badly as she did.

  Suddenly it seemed very important to have a shower and put on some clean clothes before Harold came to visit her. She grabbed a towel from the cupboard, it smelt musty but better than she did. The only clean clothes she had were army fatigues, so she took them and left her room.

  The compound wasn’t busy, but she saw other people as she walked towards the bathroom. At first, she looked for familiar faces, but she
didn’t see any. She tried smiling at people as she passed them, but no one returned the gesture. Velma told herself it was because they didn’t know her, but a tiny voice in the back of her head began to question that and add it to the hostility she had felt from Tom, someone who had recognized her, and the three soldiers who had escorted her to her room.

  The bathroom was empty. It smelled of mud and sweat. She hooked her towel over the door and put her clean clothes on a bench. She considered putting her dirty clothes straight into the bin but, even if they weren’t salvageable, it would still be a waste to throw them out. They could be cleaned and, even as rags, serve a purpose.

  She washed and dressed without anyone else coming in. She tied back her hair and looked at herself in the mirror. Velma was 55 years old, but she had never felt old. Looking at her reflection now she wondered if that had been an oversight on her part. The wrinkles around her eyes seemed more prominent than before and she felt tired in a way that she thought a young person never could. After a moment she forced herself to look away and finish getting dressed.

  There was still food from breakfast in the canteen. She helped herself to bread rolls and fruit and sat at a table by herself, hoping that someone else might come in and join her, but they didn’t.

  Velma had spent almost three weeks trecking from Harmony to East Bridge, but she hadn’t really felt lonely until now. She honestly hadn’t expected a hero’s welcome, but she had expected people to be friendly, perhaps even relieved that she hadn’t died in the battle. Surely Tom would have told people that she was back, but no one had come looking for her.

  She told herself that they were just giving her space to readjust and that they would come eventually. She found that even she didn’t believe that.