‘I take it you two are seeing this horror show?’ It was Doctor Porter, still not revealing a hint of stress in her voice.
Chief Hogan came on. ‘Seems we’re popular all of a sudden. Billy?’
‘Nothing we can do now. Just point and shoot when they come,’ replied Billy, deciding he didn’t want to look at the monitor anymore.
He was about to lay back down, not really knowing what else to do but shoot at whatever was coming, when something caught his eye. Billy strained as he stared at the ploughed field to the edge of the town. It was the only clear space between him and the trees, about two hundred feet deep by easily four hundred across, bordered on either side by the tall corn, and had been where he’d taken down Gunny Trautman.
The churned, dark soil looked odd, like it was moving. The moonlight wasn’t enough so Billy grabbed a flare. He knew it was risky, the burning projectile more or less advertising his location, but something was telling Billy all was not well, and not just with the waiting horde in the forest.
He pointed the tube into the air and pulled hard on the tag, shielding his eyes as the flare whooshed into the clear night. Billy watched as the flare reached its height then followed the glowing mini-sun as its parachute gently drifted back to earth. He looked across at Chief Hogan, who was doing the same.
As the flare neared the ground Billy’s stomach lurched, seeing what wasn’t right. The entire field was covered in the infected, all crawling across the ground towards him and the town. Billy froze to the spot for a second, noting in slow motion that all of the crawling vampires were glistening in the flare’s light, each one of them smeared in wet mud to camouflage themselves.
‘Incoming!!!’
It was the Chief, and his words were immediately followed by the automatic roar of the fifty calibre as he opened up on the night crawlers.
Billy could just about make out Doctor Porter’s voice as she screamed over the radio.
‘The trenches, Billy. The trenches!!!’
Taking control of his fear, and the fact that it was a mass coordinated attack, Billy snatched up the .50 sniper rifle. He glanced at the drone’s screen, gritting his teeth as he registered the motionless white dots in the forest all surging forward.
‘The trenches!’
Billy ignored the mud camouflaged vampires as they all sprang to their feet and charged, oblivious to the automatic fire shredding into them. He steadied his breathing, resting the rifle scope’s cross-hairs on an oil drum sat on the side of a trench they had dug on their side of the field, running from the central main road and all along the edge of the field. It had taken a week of excavating with a digger truck, and a full day to fill with petrol.
The drum was filled with a mixture put together by Chief Hogan, the main ingredient being industrial fertilizer, and guaranteed by the fireman to go bang and ignite the fluid it was sat next to. It just needed a spark.
Billy aimed and squeezed his trigger.
KABOOM!!!
The explosive round smashed into the drum, turning night into day, just as the first of the infected reach the town, instantly incinerating them and covering those behind in flames. Even from his elevated position Billy felt the backdraft of heat, but he didn’t have time to marvel at the Chief’s pyromaniac skills.
He swivelled his hips to rotate his body on the second drum, resting on the edge of the second trench running in the opposite direction, and just as long and fuel-filled.
KABOOM!!!
A second false sun erupted on Billy’s left, lighting up the massed charge of the vampires as they broke from the trees, just as Chief Hogan’s gun fell silent. Billy looked up to the fire tower.
‘No!’
The Chief was buried beneath a group of infected who had sneaked past the three of them, climbed up the steel structure, and were now all trying to feed on Hogan. But the big man was still fighting. As more vampires clambered up, Billy grimaced as Chief Hogan bellowed out a dying war-cry and jumped off, taking three of the infected with him. He turned away before they hit the ground.
‘Bi . . .’
Billy snapped his body around towards the water tower as the Doctor’s cry for help was cut off. She was gone. Billy looked through the Barrett’s scope. On top of the water tower, where Doctor Porter had been standing, was a thick blood streak. Then an infected walked across the roof, on his own and in no rush.
The vampire pulled back the hood covering his head as he looked straight at Billy, smiling widely as he showed off his fangs. Billy dry-swallowed, knowing the infected was in no need of a scope to see him just as well as he himself was being viewed. He was bald, had teardrops tattooed down one side of his face, and was obviously relishing the fact that he knew his side were going to win. Billy watched as the ex-gangbanger flipped him a talon-clawed middle finger, letting out a war-shriek as he did so.
Billy aimed at the teardrops, registering the fact that every charging vampire seemed to turn their legs towards him. He fired. Billy thought for a second that the explosive round had blown the bald vampire off the water tower, but then he saw the smiling ghoul stand back up, relishing the fact he had dodged the ace shot.
It was the first time Billy May had missed.
Then the sky was bathed in red as the emergency flares went up from the rear of the town. Billy turned to see if the north side was doing any better. His heart sank as he saw it clearly wasn’t. The rooftops housing the rear-guard were already swarming with infected, dragging the Silchester defenders’ down for supper.
Billy grabbed his own emergency flare gun, popping the red star into the air to confirm what everyone else was about to find out.
Silchester was lost. The infected had won.
22
It wasn’t just the numbers that Billy knew they couldn’t defend against, it was the method of the attack that had brought them. Just from what Billy had seen he was guessing there had to be at least three hundred infected attacking them, more if the rear of the town had fallen already. But it was the organisation, the coordination between the turned, all working together to achieve their goal. That was the game-changer.
Billy had seen it only once before, that type of tactical stealth as the vampires worked as a team. It was the night Billy took down Gunny Trautman. He had tracked the veteran for a good twenty minutes, eerily fascinated as he watched the Gunnery Sergeant marshalling his people, pointing to where they all needed to be as they had prepared to attack.
Maybe the infected were becoming that way by design, working as a hive mind in order to secure their food source, their evolving predator instincts adapting as they grew in numbers, and their prey also joining together to defend themselves.
Whatever the reason, the result was effective, and Billy May knew his life expectancy had dropped down to minutes, if not seconds.
He snatched up the rocket launcher as the vampires swarmed into the town. Billy took a few deep breaths as he aimed at the school bus parked nearby, at the point where the road into town narrowed and created a funnel, which the infected were now streaming through.
He pressed down on the launch button, feeling the force of the mini-warhead as it shrieked forward. The bus was filled to the roof with another of Chief Hogan’s recipes, the final piece of their barricade.
KABOOM, BOOM, BOOM!!!!!!
The shockwave from the blast knocked Billy backwards off his feet, and rendered him deaf at the same time. As he laid looking up, momentarily in a void of silence, Billy watched as a mass of infected were thrown into the air, travelling up with the orange mushroom cloud. It was the most awesome thing the recovering alcoholic had ever seen, and it just made Billy want to kill some more before he himself checked out.
He rolled to the side and sprung to his feet, grabbing the M60 belt-fed machine gun, and let rip. The explosion had destroyed the entrance to the town, and blown a huge hole in the numbers of infected, but there were just as many ready to take their place. They were surging in from every angle, filling the streets as the
y hissed and screamed, all sprinting to be the first to feast on their captured bounty.
It just meant plenty of targets for Billy. He hosed them down, pivoting left and right as he worked the crowd, spraying the vampires with automatic fire.
‘Spray and pray, motherfuckers!!!’
A force of vampires broke off and made straight for him but Billy easily took them down.
‘Billy May, that’s my name!’ The battle adrenaline was pumping through Billy, and all he wanted was a little more time to ply his trade. ‘B-i-l-l-y May, you got that? You snaggle-toothed pricks!’
There wasn’t a piece of tarmac or lawn that didn’t have an infected foot thundering across it, and still they kept coming, and still Billy kept firing, slamming in a fresh snaking belt of ammo as he sprayed more death and abuse.
‘Supper’s cancelled!!!’
But, despite his out of control adrenaline, and the hordes of vampires racing below him, Billy’s heightened sense of being also registered the noise behind him as his hearing returned.
He spun around just as the little ballerina ducked under the barrel of the M60 and sunk her fangs into his shin.
‘Arghhh!’ Billy screamed as he brought down the butt of the M60, knocking the elfin vampire away.
She looked up at him with her blood-red eyes, snarling as she darted back in, too fast for Billy as he clumsily missed a second blow with the heavy gun, screaming again as the tiny dancer latched into his thigh, all the way to her gums.
Billy dropped the M60, partly because it was no good for close quarters fighting, and partly because of the excruciating pain signals exploding in his brain. He grabbed the girl’s ponytail, yanking back on it as he pulled the H&K pistol from his belt. But the girl was locked on and not about to give up what she craved, so Billy pressed the gun against the top of her head, careful so as not to shoot himself, and fired.
Billy’s hand gripping the hair flew back as the top of the ballerina’s head exploded. Even then he still had to pry her dead fangs away from his flesh, the tiny razors making a popping sound as he pulled them free, just as two more sets of clawed hands crested the roof.
They were the last of Gunny Trautman’s troops, William and Mrs Bridge. Billy put a round between William’s eyes as soon as the infected ex-tech worker looked over at him. Mrs Bridge peered over next, only to drop back down as soon as she saw her adopted vampire daughter was dead, emitting a howl of loss as she went. Billy went to move forward just as she popped back up, flying up and past the roof, then arcing her body straight at Billy.
He still couldn’t help marvelling at the speed and strength of those who had turned, but still managed to grab the small revolver with his free hand, unloading with both guns into the airborne vampire. Billy pumped both triggers, emptying the H&K as Mrs Bridge crashed into him. His revolver was trapped under her dead weight, but Billy knew she was no longer a threat.
He managed to crawl from under her, dragging his wounded leg as he stood. Billy limped over to the edge of the roof, gingerly peering over. The infected were strung out along the bottom of the shop, standing on each other’s shoulders as they climbed up. Billy staggered back as a multitude of infected hands gripped onto the lip of the roof, their talons scraping on the steel and brickwork as they hauled themselves up.
Billy took several steps before diving through the roof hatch, seeing just as many vampires breaching the opposite end of the roof as he flew. He crashed into the stairs, grimacing his teeth as he ignored the pain of the fall. More pressing matters were at hand. Billy frantically got back to his feet as he popped back up through the hatch, reaching for the steel covering.
The infected all surged towards him, but adrenaline helped Billy flip over the heavy steel lid, just as he was able to shoot through the closing gap, killing his last vampire as the hatch sealed shut. Billy slid the two dead-bolts across then slumped on the stairs. Even with their enhanced strength the infected wouldn’t be able to gain a hand-hold on the steel lid, it now laying flush with the steel roof, which was welded to the steel sides, with each window sealed and welded shut with a steel plate.
It meant Billy couldn’t get out but, more importantly, the ravenous vampires swarming over the roofs and up the walls couldn’t get in.
23
Billy staggered along the upstairs living space of All Guns ’N’ Ammo. The previous owner and proprietor had been a committed bachelor, dedicating the ground floor for his business, with wall to wall firearms and ammunition. Upstairs had been his private home, catering for the bare essentials.
A beer stocked fridge, widescreen television and an electric reclining Easy Chair were the main focal points, with not much else. Billy didn’t crave the beer anymore, and the TV had ceased receiving any signal before he had arrived, but the Easy Chair was a real find.
Grabbing the bottle of Jack Daniels, Billy slumped into the lounger, ripping his trouser leg to inspect his injuries. Tiny puncture wounds were weeping blood on his shin and thigh, and Billy found another on his calf, not even realising the ballerina had made a third hit. He unscrewed the bottle and tipped the entire contents over the teeth marks.
Billy knew it wasn’t going to make any difference. Cleaning the wounds was pointless in stopping the real problem, and Billy could already feel his heart rate increasing as the virus flooded into his blood stream.
In a way it made things a lot easier, knowing for certain what was going to happen, especially as Billy was going to be the one in charge. He picked up the snub-nose from the side table, clicking open the cylinder to check. One hollow point bullet left.
‘That’s all I need.’
Billy stood, limping over to the kitchen area, eyeing the baked goods he had been gifted. His eye settled on the glass dish holding the peach cobbler, frowning to himself that he never took up the offer of a home visit by the Sheriff’s buxom widow. He scooped a generous portion onto a plate as he popped the last espresso pod into the coffee maker. As he prepared his last meal Billy could hear the infected on the outside cease their scratching and banging. And he knew the reason why.
They could smell his blood through the brick and steel, and they could smell the virus coursing through it, signalling Billy would soon be joining their ranks. Avoiding friendly fire, they were leaving him to find fresh food.
Billy sat back down with the steaming brew and cobbler, taking a mouthful of the peach bake.
‘Wow, this is delicious.’
He managed to shovel the cobbler down before his hands started to shake. It was the virus, flooding his system as it prepared to tune him up. Billy steadied his hand with the other, bringing up the small cup to his lips, determined to finish his last espresso. It burnt Billy’s tongue but tasted better than ever. He tossed the cup over his shoulder then grabbed the revolver.
‘Under the chin or in the mouth?’ Billy asked himself, surprised at how calm and matter-of-fact it all was.
He placed the short barrel into his mouth, but Billy didn’t like the feel of it. He took it out and pushed it under his chin, much happier with how that felt. He could feel his heart rate soaring as the virus took charge, pumping the invader throughout his system.
Billy sat back, making himself comfortable as he closed his eyes and started to take up pressure on the trigger.
‘Wait!’
It was his own voice, but alien, as if controlled by another. Billy lowered the gun.
‘Why not?’ he asked himself.
‘Let’s just think about this, Billy.’ Answering himself, Billy laid the revolver down.
‘Go on then, I’m all ears. But you’d better be quick because this juice is jacking me up already.’
‘Would it really be so bad . . . I mean . . . really?’
The honest truth was that Billy wasn’t so sure that it would. He’d spent almost his entire adult life living in a world of pain. Pain from an empty stomach, pain when he couldn’t hustle booze and the pain that came from knowing he was nothing to nobody. All that time wasted.
The only thing Billy had ever done that amounted to anything worthwhile was in these past weeks, defending the very place that had for so many years turned its back on him.
He’d only been barely surviving for the decade before, and had only truly lived since the night he notched up his first kill.
‘And don’t forget the old-timer, he looked like he was reliving his glory days.’
Billy couldn’t help but agree with Billy. He had tracked Gunny Trautman through his scope, watching the militarised vampire marshalling his troops, gesticulating with his talons as he organised and delegated. Billy had even seen the veteran smile as he patted his people on the back, clearly loving every second of his new life.
‘And don’t forget how strong they are, or how fast they can run. All that just for drinking a little blood?’
Billy snorted laughter as his vision started to blur and the shakes got worse, just as his throat started to throb.
‘Billy!’ It was the sensible side of him, making one last plea for sanity. ‘If you let this happen you’ll be going straight to Hell!’
‘Yeah,’ Billy nodded, ‘but I already spent most of my life there, so at least I know what to expect.’
He tossed the revolver across the room, his mind made up. The insane decision was the only one left.
Billy May, the recovering alcoholic who had finally made good, relaxed in the lounger as his eyelids became heavy, settling down for whatever came next.
THE END
The Turned Page 10