The Undead Day Sixteen Part Two

by RR Haywood

  The Undead

  Day Sixteen

  Part Two

  RR Haywood

  Copyright © R. R. Haywood 2014

  R. R. Haywood asserts his moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved.

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters and events, unless those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead (or undead), is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Design, Cover and Illustration by Eduardo Garay.

  Edited by Rachael Brimstone.

  For the pre-readers.

  There are only five of you, but without your feedback I would be lost.

  Thank you.

  RR Haywood

  The story so far

  Day Sixteen.

  Howie recovered from his fractured mind in time to lead the team in the battle for the munitions factory.

  Blowers was bitten on the arm but found he too is immune.

  Prophetic words spoken by Marcy show true as Lani is torn.

  Defending the rear door against an overwhelming surge of undead and she offered her life so that Howie may survive.

  Injuries sustained that may prove to be too much for Lani to survive.

  A desperate race to get back to the fort but the promised safety may not be the refuge they seek

  Day Sixteen.

  Jess and I remain in the stable block we found after fleeing the horde that found us hiding in the arts centre.

  On higher ground with a good view and damned if I’m going back out there today. It’s too much. All of it is too much and as my panic subsides so I am left with frayed nerves and my stomach cramping in fear.

  My god I knew it would be hard, but nothing like this. How can I even hope to continue my search for those with immunity if I am to face such peril at every turn? Writing these diary entries is the only way to calm my thoughts and bring order back to my mind.

  Besides, and I know this is a reason I cling to and a process of self-justification for my paltry cowardice but Jess galloped flat out for a great distance and resting her now is the right thing to do. I rely on her for survival so even if I wanted to go back out there, which I do not, but even if I so desired to venture out into that danger, it would be on a tired horse. Having said that, Jess appears not the least bit tired, if anything she appears somewhat pepped up by the whole experience.

  I must take this period to reflect on what I have learnt;

  *they are massing in a town

  I do not know the reasons for this massing. It could be something as simple as there having been a festival or event within the town at the time of the infection being released, and therefore a greater population within one place.

  However, their desire to infect should be driving them to seek more hosts. Therefore something is holding them there. They are there for a reason.

  *there appeared to be smaller groups noticeably separated from each other but all within the greater nucleus of the horde.

  The virus will evolve. We knew that.

  The virus will also be manipulated and changed as it evolves. What infects one person may be changed to something different within another. There will be many millions who suffer the same symptoms and change in exactly the same way. But we also knew there would be fewer numbers within the population who would not be affected in the same way, those who’s natural anti-bodies would cause a slower rate of infection or repel the virus to an extent the virus would change and they too would change.

  Like the cup of coffee I am drinking now. The coffee was one thing. The water another. They were separate and unique but once put together the chemical reaction changes them both to produce something else.

  Those manipulations are the most dangerous, the single most dangerous threat to our species that has ever been known.

  Only one test subject showed a manipulation and that was terrifying beyond compare and was the reason I reached my decision to bug out from the project and undertake this perilous activity.

  Even the thought of that test subject sends shivers down my spine as the memories come spilling back. The intelligence. The cunning. The emotional range that could be understood and played with. The absolute lack of hesitancy for the sanctity of life.

  If there is one here, within that town, that has that form of manipulated virus within him or her, then to be blunt, we are all fucked doomed.

  But the plan must remain. I must seek the immune and work through my list.

  But not today. Today I have done enough and today I will cower in this stable block until my stomach cramps ease and I can hold the coffee cup without trembling so much it spills out.

  NB

  One…

  ‘Shit…’

  ‘WHAT!?’

  ‘Go faster.’

  ‘Why? Roy…why are you telling me to go faster?’

  ‘Focus on the road, boss,’ Clarence twists in his seat to stare back into the rear of Saxon.

  ‘What?’ Gripping the wheel I try and peer behind me but the speed I’m travelling makes it too dangerous to take my eyes off the debris strewn road.

  ‘KEEP IT STILL,’ Roy shouts.

  ‘Fuck…what’s happening?’ I ask Clarence, ‘Clarence…tell me…’

  ‘Looks like she’s stopped breathing,’ Clarence’s voice is calm, deep and measured, ‘pull over, let me drive.’

  The urge is to stamp on the brake but that will send everyone flying forward and the Saxon is weighed down with tons of ammunition crates plus most of the team. I ease my foot off the accelerator and gently apply the brake.

  ‘Roy’s working on her…chest compressions…he’s doing well, Paula is doing mouth to mouth…Let me drive,’ he repeats.

  ‘No,’ I know this beast and even though the dirty infected hands of the undead have defiled her I have faith in the countless hours I’ve spent behind this wheel.

  The engine roars as I increase the pressure of my right foot on the accelerator but the noise has become so familiar to me now that I don’t hear it. Just the silence of the vehicle as all eyes rest on Roy.

  ‘Try now,’ Roy says in measured tones.

  ‘Try what?’ I ask Clarence, urging him to give me a commentary.

  ‘Paula’s checking for a pulse…one of you find a mirror.’ Clarence calls out.

  ‘A mirror?’ Cookey replies, ‘what for?’

  ‘See if it mists,’ Roy says, ‘the vibration of the vehicle is making it hard to feel for a pulse…you saw that movie too then?’

  ‘I did,’ Clarence says. A brief exchange by the two older men that conveys a competence and unflappable nature to the younger members of the team.

  ‘Where the fuck we gonna find a mirror from?’ Cookey asks.

  ‘My bag, or Lani’s,’ Paula replies, ‘women always have a mirror.’

  ‘Got it,’ I hear Jagger’s voice exclaim then people shuffling as the mirror is passed along the chain.

  ‘Anything?’ I ask Clarence, forcing the same level of calm into my voice.

  ‘Hang on,’ he says quietly, ‘Paula is checking now…’

  Seconds. That’s all it is but they go on forever. I grip the wheel and focus on the road ahead. Cars, vans and all manner of vehicles left abandoned. Tree trunks, power cables and telegraph poles rip
ped up by the storm and dumped in the carriageway. The big wheels of the Saxon have no difficulty dealing with the millions of bits of shit littered about but the bigger stuff needs negotiating and if I go fast it will cause the vehicle to swerve but going slow feels the wrong thing to do.

  ‘Yes,’ Paula says, ‘misting…but only just.’

  ‘Thank fuck,’ I let out a gasp of air as I realise I was holding my breath.

  ‘Listen,’ Roy speaks up so we can all hear him, ‘she’s only just hanging on…so be prepared.’

  ‘For what?’ I call back.

  ‘Losing her,’ he replies in a tone of voice so matter of fact it makes my stomach flip.

  ‘Not happening,’ I mutter the words under my breath and focus on the road. Gentle movements as I steer the heavily laden vehicle down the main road towards the motorway. Silence. Nobody speaks.

  Lani is torn.

  …but know this, not everyone will survive this journey, Howie…

  How did she know? Was it even Marcy or just a manifestation of my own mind? But how the hell would I know Lani was at the back door or that someone would get bitten.

  ‘How’s your arm, Blowers?’

  ‘Fine, boss.’

  ‘Arm? What’s up with your arm?’ Clarence calls back.

  ‘Got bit,’ Blowers says in a clipped voice.

  ‘Bitten? You got bitten?’ Clarence twists to see the young lad better, ‘are you okay?’

  ‘Immune,’ he gives the one word reply too bereft with worry to say more.

  Clarence’s jaw drops for a second before he recovers his wits. One big hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck.

  ‘Five now,’ he says.

  ‘You sure you were bitten?’ Roy asks, ‘can I see.’

  ‘I was bitten,’ Blowers says, ‘the fucker put his teeth on me.’

  ‘And it broke the skin? Yes…yes I can see,’ Roy must be examining the wound, ‘you were bitten,’ he says dully.

  ‘Five of us,’ Cookey says, ‘what does that mean?’

  ‘What?’ Blowers asks.

  ‘Five of us in one group. Why us? Why are we immune?’

  ‘Roy,’ Paula’s voice is urgent, ‘look.’

  ‘At what?’ I ask Clarence.

  ‘Can’t see,’ Clarence twists round to lean over the back of the seat, ‘what is it?’ He asks.

  ‘Yes. Yes I see,’ Roy says.

  ‘See what?’ I call out.

  ‘Her wounds are congealing faster than they normally would,’ Roy replies, ‘they’re fresh wounds that should be bleeding but…but they’re not.’

  ‘You dressed them,’ I shout back, ‘how can you tell?’

  ‘The blood should have seeped through, especially the deep one on her thigh. I’ve just checked it.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Like I said, it’s already scabbing over.’

  ‘Scabbing?’ Clarence says, ‘that wouldn’t happen.’

  ‘It is happening,’ Roy says, ‘her body still carries the infection.’

  ‘Mate, that’s an assumption to make,’ Blowers says.

  ‘Blowers, show Roy your knuckles,’ I shout.

  ‘Knuckles?’ Clarence asks, ‘why knuckles?’

  ‘Blowers was punching them,’ I reply for him knowing Clarence and Dave had already told Blowers never to use his fists to fight the undead, ‘but to be fair Dave was in the room punching me in the face while I was sleeping so…’

  ‘Scabs,’ Roy says.

  ‘Scabs? Fucking scabs?’ I call back, ‘mate, I cannot see what you are doing…be more specific please.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he says quickly, ‘I am examining Blowers hands. The knuckles are cut in several places from punching. Those cuts are scabbed.’

  ‘Is that not right?’

  ‘No, Mr Howie. They’re small cuts so they would heal quickly but the scabs are drying out as though these wounds are maybe one or two days old.’

  ‘Anyone else cut?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah, everywhere,’ Mo Mo says.

  ‘Me too,’ Jagger adds.

  ‘My hands are cut,’ Clarence looks down at the backs of his splayed hands.

  ‘Are you scabbing yet?’ I glance across.

  ‘Shit!’ Paula shouts, ‘not breathing.’

  ‘Okay, hold her head,’ Roy shuffles into place as he starts the chest compressions for the second time and once again the tension in the vehicle ramps up.

  ‘Come on, Lani,’ Paula speaks softly with her head bent down to Lani’s ear, ‘come on, love. Breathe…you’ve got to breathe…Cookey, hold that mirror there.’

  ‘No point,’ Roy says quickly, ‘the compressions will be forcing air out of her mouth.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Paula says, ‘I didn’t think.’

  ‘How far?’ Roy calls out louder.

  ‘Er…’ Christ I have no idea where we are and have just been following the road.

  ‘Nick, you hearing me?’ Clarence grabs the radio handset from the front.

  ‘Has he got a radio?’ I ask.

  ‘I gave him one,’ Clarence replies.

  ‘This is Dave. Go ahead, Clarence.’

  ‘Dave, ask Nick for an ETA.’

  ‘Standby…Nick says ten to fifteen minutes.’

  ‘We don’t have ten to fifteen minutes,’ Roy says calmly, ‘we’re going to need a defib.’

  ‘Options?’ Clarence asks the vehicle.

  ‘Find a hospital,’ Jagger shouts out.

  ‘No power,’ I call back.

  ‘Nick can get the power on,’ Paula says.

  ‘Too long, it means finding a hospital, finding a defib…getting the power on and…’

  ‘Police cars got ‘em,’ Mo Mo says, ‘and custody blocks too.’

  ‘Shopping centres,’ Blowers says.

  ‘I’m hearing you,’ I say, ‘but we don’t have time to find one. We need doctors and the only place we know where there are doctors is the fort. We head to the fort. Roy, keep working. If the infection is in her she…’

  ‘She’s back,’ Roy announces, ‘again.’

  ‘Fuck me,’ Blowers says, ‘is she breathing on her own?’

  ‘Yes,’ Roy says, ‘and to be honest this is unheard of.’

  ‘What is?’ I ask.

  ‘CPR can keep a body functioning until medical help arrives but it doesn't normally bring someone back when they’ve stopped breathing. Not like that…not twice…’

  ‘Infection?’ Clarence asks as if Roy suddenly knows all the answers.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Roy replies, ‘but if we think it through…we can inflict serious damage on the infected and they pay no heed at all. Their wounds heal faster or at least they clot faster so they don’t bleed out and they have no known pain threshold.’

  ‘I don’t think now is the time for this, Roy,’ Paula says gently, ‘not right now.’

  ‘Why not?’ He asks.

  ‘Because one of our team is badly hurt,’ she says.

  ‘I am merely trying to work out her chances of survival.’

  ‘Do it in your head then, mate,’ Blowers says and I was expecting a tone filled with aggression but instead he’s as exhausted and drained as everyone else.

  ‘Boss,’ Clarence speaks over the small gap to me, ‘is it worth getting Nick to go ahead so he can get a boat ready and…’

  ‘No mate, we’re not splitting up.’

  ‘Boss,’ he says seriously, ‘Dave is with Nick and you’re with us…nothing can hurt us now.’

  ‘Fuck mate,’ I glance across, ‘you being serious? I’m not like Dave.’

  ‘Better get ready to sack me,’ he lifts the handset up, ‘Nick, Dave…Lani is in a bad way. Get there and arrange medivac…receive?’

  ‘Roger. Understood,’ Dave’s flat tone amplifies over the speaker and we watch the small lighter van gather speed as the distance between us gets larger.

  Two

  ‘And then what?’

  ‘Like I said. It was so clear. So very clear. Like it was actually
happening. Do you ever get that?’

  ‘Me? Gosh no. Oh no. No my dreams invariably have me running from something, or hiding from something,’ he tilts his tidy head to one side, ‘or running and hiding as some beastly monsters get closer and closer and…’

  ‘Reggie!’

  ‘Reginald. My point is, Marcy. It was a dream. Just a dream.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ she sighs, ‘but I knew. I knew where Lani was. I knew she was in danger and I knew she would be hurt…how did I know that?’

  ‘A dream, my dear Marcy. Just a dream. I should imagine Mr Howie and his intrepid group are holed up somewhere being heroic while slaughtering the living challenged with blunt teaspoons,’ Reginald sighs for effect and adjusts his tie to make sure the knot is just so, ‘anyway, what are we to do? You are looking much better, really much better.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Marcy smiles.

  ‘Really, the infection shows no signs on you. Other than the red eyes of course but…no…no decaying skin, no sickly grey pallor. In fact, if anything my dear, you look positively radiant. You’re not pregnant are you?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Pregnant. I read somewhere that pregnant women get the same healthy glow about their complexion. Probably from an influx of hormones or some such thing.’

  ‘No, Reggie. I am not pregnant.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ He persists politely, adjusting his glasses and once again checking his tie, ‘I mean. You and Darren had relations didn’t you?’

  ‘Relations?’

  ‘Yes, relations.’

  ‘What are relations?’

  ‘You know full well what relations are. You are teasing me again which is most unkind of you.’