The Undead Day Sixteen

by RR Haywood

  They slurp drinks and watch.

  The woman changes tack and just walks forward so she falls through the window to land on a heap on the inside.

  ‘She got in,’ the boy remarks in a contented tone, ‘can I shoot her brains?’

  Gregori thinks for a second then shrugs and pulls the pistol from his waistband, ‘remember?’ He passes the gun over and shuffles closer to the boy.

  ‘Um…work…not work?’ The boy presses the safety switch.

  ‘Other way.’

  ‘Work…not work?’

  ‘Yes. Now gun shoot.’

  Holding the pistol two handed the boy lifts it up and taps his finger gently on the trigger, ‘will it hurt my nose?’

  ‘No,’ Gregori puts his hand on the boy’s back to stop him being sent back and off the counter, ‘hold arms out.’

  The boy stretches his arms out, ‘will the bullet hurt me?’

  ‘No, no come up…it go that way…see,’ Gregori motions the end of the barrel and sweeps his hand towards the woman undead now on her feet and groaning audibly.

  ‘Okay,’ the boy takes aim and fires a deafening shot that booms in the enclosed space. The bullet sails past the woman as the boy frowns, ‘her brains her in her head.’

  ‘You miss, try again.’

  The boy aims again.

  ‘Breathe,’ Gregori advises quietly, ‘not hold breath…breathe out as shoot.’

  The boy breathes out and fires. The woman stagger back from the shoulder hit and lands crumpled amongst the tables and chairs. They both watch as she writhes and spasms to get upright.

  ‘Aw,’ the boy groans as she sits up and he spots the fresh blood seeping from the wound in her shoulder.

  ‘One more,’ Gregori knows he should not be wasting bullets like this. He should not be firing a loud weapon like this. He should not be sat here eating bad food like this. He shrugs, ‘again,’ he prompts.

  The boy takes his time and holds still until the woman is back on her feet and swaying less. Gregori takes in the focussed look on the boy’s face as he tracks the head and gently pulls the trigger.

  ‘YES! I DID IT,’ the boy bounces on the spot as Gregori deftly takes back the pistol.

  ‘Good.’

  ‘I did it…I did it, Gregoreee…her brains came out…’

  ‘Yes. Good,’ Gregori thumbs the safety on and glances back across at the child. The kickback didn’t bother him and Gregori felt the force of the recoil through the boy’s body as he held a steadying hand on his back. He didn’t blink or flinch either. Not a flicker of concern.

  ‘Night soon,’ Gregori remarks to fill the silence after the shot, ‘we go.’

  ‘Where?’ The boy asks.

  ‘Find place. Sleep. We hide and sleep.’

  ‘Hide and seek?’

  ‘No. Hide and sleep. They danger in night,’ he points down to the now still body.

  ‘Will I have pyjamas?’

  ‘We look,’ Gregori replies, ‘we try. If no then no. If yes then yes.’

  ‘Okay,’ the boy burps and giggles as he hops down from the counter to venture forward and peer down at the grey matter spattered across the floor, ‘can we see her sausages?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Can I see her sausages?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Can I get her sausages out?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Can we eat her sausages?’

  ‘No. Not say this. Not ever. You eat that you die. I kill you.’

  ‘Have you eaten sausages?’

  ‘Not from dead man. Eat dead man and die.’

  ‘Okay…is it here?’ The boy points at the woman’s stomach.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘How?’ Gregori walks over and crouches down, ‘cut like this,’ he slices his fingers left to right over the top of the woman’s midriff, ‘they inside but…but she down so…they not come out.’

  ‘Do it,’ the boy nods, ‘I want to see her sausages.’

  ‘Boy. She dead. Dead is dead. There no…why take insides out? She dead.’

  ‘Show me,’ the boy urges, ‘can I see her heart?’

  ‘Heart?’ Gregori stares at the child, ‘why?’

  ‘I never seen one,’ the boy shrugs.

  ‘No. She danger. Her blood it danger. Her blood touch you die.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She has er…she has sick…she sick…her sick touch you and you sick…then die.’

  ‘They’re going to howl now.’

  Gregori snaps his head up at the boy then out to the now dark sky outside. How did he not notice? How did he let this happen? A chill runs down his spine as he glances back to see the boy’s head tilted up as though he too is about to howl.

  Lights on in the restaurant. Discrete and soft and he failed to see the day was going faster than he thought.

  On his feet and he draws both knives, ‘come…we…’

  His words cut off as the howling hits the air with a sudden screeching that comes from every direction. The night fills with noise from the hundreds of voices that give sound. A chilling noise that has Gregori racing to leap over the windowsill and into the street. Hundreds of them. More than that. Solid ranks on either side and they scream into the night as one drawn out sound.

  ‘BOY,’ Gregori yells, ‘WE GO…NOW…’

  The boy ambles and gently steps over the will while staring with amazed interest at the two sides trapping them.

  ‘NOW,’ the boy shouts up at Gregori at the second the howls end, plummeting the scene into a deafening and oppressive silence.

  Only one way out and that’s straight across the road and through the shops on the other side and hope to hell there is a back entrance. Gregori sweeps his gaze across the frontages of the stores and turns back to face the stores right behind him. If he could funnel them he could hold them off but two knives are not enough for a group that size and the pistols only have one magazine each, not even that after the shots taken by the boy.

  He squats quickly with his back to the boy, ‘UP,’ he snaps and waits as the boy jumps up to wrap his arms round Gregori’s neck. ‘Tight…TIGHT,’ he roars.

  ‘We will see their sausages?’

  Gregori doesn't reply but starts running. The undead start running. Everyone starts running. He aims for the stores and curses his own stupidity as the boy whispers in his ear, ‘I need to poop.’

  Nineteen

  Day 16

  I have but a snatched few minutes. I stumbled into an awful situation. I don’t have time to make a full entry but if this becomes my last notes then head back to my base – the address is at the front of this book complete with GPS coordinates and postcode. Find my diaries and know what happened and how this came to be.

  There is a gathering in this town. A mass of the infected all holding position in the central square. Hundreds of them. We walked right into them!!! We turned a corner and there they were. I don’t know why. Jess did not smell them but that I put down to the wind direction or simply that she is not bothered by them as they want humans to infect, not horses.

  We scarpered pretty darn quickly from that place and cantered down side streets into the maze of alleys of this blasted old town. Why didn’t we build towns in a grid formation like the bloody yanks! Alleys and twisting lanes and avenues that don’t blasted lead anywhere.

  We found an old quay with warehouses next to it. One of them is converted into an arts centre and it’s in there we hide. The old doors were big enough for Jess to get through and I can only hope we’ve found somewhere they won’t look. I don’t know if they’re coming to search or even if they saw us. I saw them. Turned Jess round and we got out of it. I should have gone back the way I came but fear and panic had gripped me and I don’t know…I just took lefts and rights in a blind worry that they were right behind me.

  Why are they here? What’s here that they want? Why gather in one place? This does not fit the information we knew about. I should try and find out b
ut I have my objectives to accomplish and me being dead serves no purpose. This is recorded. Everything I do is recorded but…but the chances of a vastly reduced population and someone finding these books are unlikely…should I run? But where? How do we get out of here? I must be calm and think clearly. Jess is faster than they but…but only if we know the way out.

  Okay. Calm down Neal. I must calm down. I must calm down. My heart hammers so much and it feels like my chest is restricted. Is this a panic attack? I knew I should have recruited guards or soldiers to work with me. This is too much for a scientist to do.

  I must calm down and find a way out.

  NB

  Twenty

  ‘I’m bored,’ I turn round from the window and face Dave who faces me. The me on the floor that is, not the me at the window.

  ‘A new day,’ I say glumly, ‘a new dawn heralds the start of another fine morning in the apocalyptic world. How can Mo Mo hear me and you can’t?’ I ask the small man, ‘you’re Dave, you’re like this magical being that can do everything…well, apart from hold a sensible conversation that is.’

  He doesn't reply but stays where he is, sat on the floor next to my body with one hand resting on my chest.

  ‘Is this an out of body experience?’ I ask no one in particular, ‘it’s a bit shit if it is. I thought it would be flashing lights and music and…’ I shrug, ‘some other cool shit. Come back from the light, Howie…’ I snort and look away when even my stupid ghost voice doesn't get a response.

  The old man in the tube station I can understand. That was a representation of bad shit to come if we don’t do our good shit now. Wow, that’s a lot of shit.

  He was showing me what will happen if we don’t keep going, if I don’t keep going. What the hell is this? A cunning plan to bore me so much I want to go back?

  Hang on. Go back? Does that mean I have a choice? Can I choose to go back or…what’s the alternative? Be a ghost? Am I a ghost now?

  I stride out of the room looking for Meredith, then remember that I ordered her to be taken outside to keep watch, or rather, I suggested to Mo Mo who half ordered, half suggested it to everyone else.

  ‘Where you go, I go.’ The words stop me in my tracks and I spin round to see Dave staring at the me on the floor.

  ‘Say that again,’ I stride back towards him.

  ‘Hear me, Mr Howie. Where you go I go…’

  My god. The look of terror on Dave’s face at the prospect of a future without Mr Howie. Not me. Not the me here but the me down there. The me that leads and shows the path.

  What does that mean? ‘Dave,’ I say gently, ‘what does that mean?’

  I’m in a place that Dave can’t reach and it’s killing him more than anything we’ve done together. In his mind I’m struggling and fighting and without him, he fears I will lose.

  ‘You’ll fix this,’ he says quietly, ‘Mr Howie, you’ll fix this.’

  ‘I don’t think I can,’ I say sadly, ‘got nothing left, mate.’ As I say the words I feel a sense of distance being created, like I’m falling away but without moving. It happens slowly and so organically that it feels entirely natural, and even somewhat nice. I can let go. Just let go and fade away to somewhere warm and safe where none of this matters. I exhale slowly and feel the pressure of it all lifting, like a great weight being taken from my shoulders and mind. Warmth spreads through me so gently it makes me sigh, and it feels like I’m falling but slowly, so slowly. Sinking down into a beautiful warm place of…

  ‘INCOMING,’ the unmistakable tone of Blowers shouting in alarm rings out, but it’s too late now, I’m too far gone. My heart ramps from serenity to explosive thudding but I can’t stop the descent. A huge bang shakes the whole of the building and sends juddering shockwaves through every beam and wall.

  But I’m not there. I’m in the street where I started. I start running, making ready to shout orders for Blowers to get inside, for a GPMG to be placed covering the hole and for someone to plan an escape route. I want to know the security of the building and have eyes on the point of attack. What exploded? The sound was two noises, an impact then an explosion. Like a battering ram. A car set on fire and set against the wall.

  I want magazines laid out, weapons made ready and a… I’m sprinting but the street is the ruined street and not the munitions factory. It doesn't end like it did before. I reach the point where it ceased being the street and it carries on being the same dismal fucking town, ruined and broken, blackened and in heaps of bricks and rusted metal.

  Hands on my head, I spin round and round. The group are under attack from something concerted and organised. Something that has worked out to use a car as a weapon and send it against the walls of the munitions factory. My group are under attack. My team.

  The tranquil state of being is gone. It’s replaced with an utter desire to be back in the midst so I can lead the charge with my axe held firm. So Dave and I can loop out from that hole and attack them from the rear or the flank. I want Meredith with us so her teeth can tear them apart but I can’t do anything.

  ‘COME ON,’ I scream into the air, fists clenched and arms locked, ‘COME ON…SEND ME BACK…’

  Why won’t I go? Why can’t I go? ‘LET ME BACK…DAVE…HIT ME, SLAP ME…WAKE ME UP…DO SOMETHING…’

  Nothing. With a frizzed blurring the air shimmers all around me and the street is how it was before this happened. The houses no longer destroyed and people walking about their business. The sun shines bright and high in the sky. Cars move slowly past and children laugh as they play in the park.

  ‘NO…NO,’ I rage and run through the street as it flickers between the destruction of the future and the hope of the past. I don’t care one shit about this fucking street. Put me back in the fight. Give me my team. Let me lead like I was.

  Static electricity makes me gag and drop to my knees. My hair stands on end as the street blurs faster than it was before. Then it settles and the silence is only broken by the fetid, ragged breathing of the undead.

  I stand slowly, sensing them behind me. Knowing they are there.

  ‘No,’ I mutter the words through gritted teeth, ‘not now…not fucking now.’

  Growls ripples through them and I turn slowly to find the whole of the street behind me rammed from left to right with rank upon rank of the infected.

  I stand straight and stare them down.

  ‘Not happening,’ shaking my head I look up to the grey streaked sky as the first fat drops of rain fall heavy to land on my face.

  ‘Send me back. Please. Please send me back.’

  There’s movement within them. Their ranks are deep but there’s a flash of long, black hair.

  ‘Marcy? MARCY?’ I run towards them. They close tighter and prevent me getting in but make no move to attack.

  ‘MOVE…MARCY…’ I grab the first and send it staggering from the front rank with a heave but they close up. Another I tackle and start fighting them harder and harder. Fists slamming into noses and jaws. I kick and gouge and drop them one by one but the ones are few and the masses are many.

  Panting hard, I step back and fix my eyes on the now solid front rank. Hands are not enough. I need a weapon. My axe. Knives. Anything. Give me something.

  She moves towards me like water flowing through rocks. ‘Marcy!’ She doesn't reply and I only get glimpses as she moves round and between them but coming ever closer.

  ‘Fuck’s sake,’ I attack the front rank again with renewed purpose and manage to get two ranks deep before they force me back out to stagger and drop to my knees.

  ‘Force isn’t always the answer.’

  ‘Fucking is,’ I’m on my feet staring at the woman who tried to saved me, tried to kill me, then saved me again. ‘Are you here?’

  She looks down at her ample cleavage and smiles coyly, ‘I think I am.’

  ‘I’m knocked out. In the mun…fuck it…in the munitions factory, they’re being attacked…send me back.’

  ‘What makes you think I can d
o anything?’ She asks lightly but the words are cut off by my hand gripping her throat.

  ‘I will end you whether this is a dream or not,’ I increase the pressure, ‘know this. Can you send me back?’

  She shakes her head as a tear rolls free down her cheek and one hand lifts to gently cover my wrist.

  ‘Fuck…FUCK….FUCKFUCKFUCK,’ I let go and spin round as the rage burns through me. I end up punching an undead in the face just for the hell of it.

  ‘You wanted out,’ she speaks softly and her voice sends shivers racing up my spine.

  ‘Don’t talk to me.’

  ‘Why? Why not, Howie.’

  ‘Your voice is like fucking treacle. It… it does something to me. Just… fuck off.’

  ‘Howie. Come find me.’

  ‘Find you. You’re right there…how do I get back? Tell me?’

  ‘You’re so lost,’ she takes a step closer, ‘so lost.’

  ‘Don’t,’ I growl.

  ‘You carry the world on your shoulders. You take the burden without complaint.’ I glance up at her to see a look of complete pain etched onto her face, but other than the red eyes there’s no sign of the infection. Her skin is as tanned and lustrous as ever. Her hair shines and shimmers with waves of midnight raven. Her lips look as full and sensuous as her hips and breasts. I swallow and breathe out slowly while forcing my eyes away.

  ‘They’re right, Howie.’

  ‘Who are?’ I ask without looking but sense her getting closer by the second.

  ‘They told you to see it through. They’re right. This…’

  ‘Don’t touch me.’

  ‘This is a dream,’ she whispers so close to me now I can sense the warmth of her body, ‘this isn’t real.’

  ‘Feels real.’

  ‘Howie,’ she reaches out to touch the side of my face and no sooner do her fingers brush, a fat tear wells in my eye to fall singly down my cheek.

  ‘This is not about you. This is about what you are, what you can do.’