by Chris Harris
After we’d eaten, one of the others went to keep a lookout and Becky and I got the children, who by now were all extremely drowsy, settled down at the back of the shelter under some blankets. It wasn’t long before they were all fast asleep.
As darkness began to fall, the rest of us sat around the dying embers of the fire. We were all aware that it was best not to keep a blazing fire going, as this might advertise our presence to others, alive or dead. Realising that it was pointless trying to keep a lookout in the increasing gloom, we agreed that while the rest of us sat around the circle of stones containing the remains of the fire, one of us would remain standing and stay alert. That, we reasoned, ought to suffice.
We’d gathered together all the torches in our possession and shared them out. I had a very powerful LED torch which I kept in the car at all times and between us we had a variety of head torches and smaller handheld ones. For the moment there were enough for us all to have one each plus a few spares.
Shawn went to his car and returned with several bags. ‘This is one of the goodies I told you about earlier. It’s a crossbow. I always keep it broken down and hidden in various places around the car.’
‘Why?’ asked Chet, intrigued.
‘Well, although it’s not illegal to own one, it’s easier to keep it disassembled than have to explain why you’ve got it. Under the current law it’s illegal to hunt with them in the UK but most preppers, myself included, favour keeping a few of them around, because let’s face it, when the shit hits the fan who cares! Now I’d say a whole ton of shit has hit the fan so it’s probably time to get it out. They’re good for large and small game and obviously for defending yourself. Remember ‘The Walking Dead’? It was the only thing Daryl ever used.’
We watched as he removed various pieces from the bags and deftly assembled it. ‘They’re easy to maintain,’ he explained, ‘and if you run out of bolts it’s not impossible to make your own.’
He passed it round so that we could all handle it. It was a deadly looking piece of equipment, painted with a camouflage pattern, and with a small telescopic sight attached to the top of it. He explained that it would easily be powerful enough to kill something at a distance of fifty metres or even more, but then the obvious problem would be accuracy. At a distance of twenty to thirty metres he thought he should be able to get in some consistent headshots.
I handed it back to him. ‘That’s a great weapon. I think we should see if we can all get one. I feel a bit happier now that we’ve got something that’ll kill them from a distance. But I did a lot of thinking while I was on lookout duty, and I think we all need to discuss and agree on the best course of action to take.’
No one commented, so I continued, ‘We don’t know how far this thing has spread, but from what we’ve seen today I think we’ll have to assume that most people are now dead or zombies. There will also be other people who’ve been lucky enough to survive. Perhaps they’re having the same conversation as we are now.’ I looked at Shawn, ‘Please feel free to interrupt if you disagree.’
He nodded and said, ‘Yes, but carry on. It’ll be interesting to hear someone else’s perspective on what’s happened and what we can do. In the groups I belonged to no one ever agreed on anything apart from the fact that it was going to happen at some point. It’s vitally important we do now. To survive this situation we’ve all got to be on the same page.’
No one else said anything, so I added, ‘We can’t stay here long term; we’re too exposed. If a pack of them appeared over that hill we’d have no choice but to move on, and if that happened in the middle of the night it could easily go wrong. What we need is somewhere that can give us proper shelter. We also desperately need supplies and, if we can find them, some decent weapons.’
I looked around. Everyone was nodding. ‘I imagine that the one thing that will be in plentiful supply will be food. Every supermarket and shop in the land will have full shelves and hardly anyone will be needing it. We should be able to take whatever we need, when we need it, but in the long term it would be sensible to source a large supply that will keep us going for a long time. That would avoid the risk involved in constantly going out and gathering it.’
‘We’re going to have to find some better weapons. Your crossbow is great Shawn; a real asset. I have a few shotguns at home, but I can’t for one moment imagine that it’s worth driving all the way to Birmingham to collect a few shotguns, when there must be plenty of them around here. Most farmers have shotguns, and possibly rifles, and what about the police or the army? If we know where to look, they must be around here somewhere. We could just get the Yellow Pages out and find the nearest barracks or gun shop.’
I paused, then asked the question: ‘So where do we go? Well, we also need somewhere that will offer constant protection so that we’re not living in fear of zombies appearing all the time. We need solid walls. While I was up on the rock, I went through all the places I could think of. But most of the obvious places: prisons, hospitals and army bases, are probably full of zombies already. We need to go somewhere where people don’t live so that we can clear it of zombies when we get there.’
The others leaned forward expectantly.
‘We need to find an intact castle!’ I said.
Everyone just looked at me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Everyone continued to stare at me then Shawn smiled and started quietly clapping.
‘Well done mate,’ he said, grinning. ‘I don’t think anyone could have put it any better. You’ve just described the best way to survive a zombie apocalypse. It is, when you think about it, just common sense after all. But as my old man always said: ‘There’s nothing common about sense!’ My mates and I used to talk about this over many a pint in a pub, but the one major flaw in your plan is the ‘intact castle’ bit. Every castle I’ve ever visited has either been a ruin or it’s got so many holes in its walls, it would be impossible to defend. There’s nowhere suitable for what you want!’
Becky interrupted him smiling, ‘Shawn, do you or any of your friends have children?’
‘No, why?’
‘Where do you live?’
‘Bristol, why?’
‘Have you ever heard of Warwick Castle?’
I smiled as I realised she knew exactly what I was on about.
Shawn frowned. ‘Not really, is it in English Heritage or The National Trust? I think I’ve visited most of their places on my travels, so I may have been there, but it doesn’t spring to mind straight away.’
Chet interrupted now. ‘I know it! When my parents came over to visit last year we went there! Shawn, it’s completely habitable. It’s got proper walls, gates, moats, everything. It even impressed my parents who are a bit snobbish and say that Indian culture outdoes everything else! If it’s still like I remember it, it would be a great place to use. It’s run as a big tourist attraction and is owned by some big group.’
Becky nodded eagerly. ‘That’s right, and it’s in Warwick; hence the name. Tom and I have taken the kids there many times. It really is in remarkable condition given that I believe it was originally built by William the Conqueror. If we could get the gates closed it would be pretty much impregnable to zombies. The accommodation area’s huge and in good condition. Great idea Tom darling!’
She turned to Shawn who was looking a little crestfallen. ‘Shawn, don’t worry, if you haven’t got kids or you’re a tourist you probably won’t have visited the place.’
We all sat in silence for a while, lost in our own thoughts.
Shawn spoke first, ‘I think, unless we can think of somewhere closer, it’s a great plan.’ He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked it then sighed because it still wasn’t working. He shoved it back into his pocket. ‘This would be a great time for a bit of googling. I bet within half an hour we’d have all the information we needed to make the right decisions. Can we think of anywhere similar to Warwick Castle? It’s a great idea, but there might be somewhere even better….I tell y
ou what, let’s get the map out. It might remind us of somewhere we’ve been.’
He spread his O.S. map out and Andy got his UK road map from his car and we all spent the next twenty minutes studying them by the light of our torches to see if any ideas ‘jumped off the pages’.
We managed to identify and mark on the map most of the castles and other places, such as old manor houses. We also picked out prisons and any buildings that might be surrounded by a secure fence or wall. The same problems were evident with all of them; if they’d been inhabited by people then they were likely to be full of the undead, or the security provided by the fences or walls wouldn’t be adequate.
The best alternative we could come up with was St Michael’s Mount, an island accessible by foot at low tide just off Cornwall’s southern coast near to Penzance, which we’d visited a few years before on our last holiday in the area. Despite its beauty and its advantage of being reasonably close to our current location, we ended up discounting it. It seemed unlikely that we would be able to secure the island from any potential zombie invasions at low tide, and after a quick check we concluded that none of us were very competent at sea fishing and using boats. If we had to rely on the sea for our food we weren’t sure how successful that would be.
I stood up to take my turn as the lookout, leaving them to discuss the merits and drawbacks of each of the places identified on the map. Warwick Castle was still looking like the best candidate, but in a way I hoped that we’d be able to find somewhere closer. We were a good few hundred miles from Warwick, and the prospect of driving that distance through a zombie infested England wasn’t very appealing.
The conversation finally died out just as the embers in the fire lost their last traces of heat. The faces lit by the single small camping lantern we’d been using were showing signs of strain and exhaustion. We were trying to keep our usage of lights to a minimum, and I’d walked about fifty metres away from the camp to check that the glow from the little lantern was barely visible before we’d decided that it was ok to use it.
Even though sleep was going to be hard to come by, we all knew that we had to rest. After a brief discussion, we worked out a guard duty rota. I volunteered to take the first shift. Andy and Chet had had no sleep the night before because they’d driven through the night and Shawn had admitted to only managing a few hours due to sleeping in his car. There were a few awkward moments when they realised that the mattress of bracken and heather meant that the sleeping area would be quite cosy when they all lay down, particularly as Becky would be lying next to them. Becky made a few light hearted jokes about no hugging and spooning, as she snuggled down next to the sleeping children.
After ensuring that everyone had their torches and weapons close to hand, I turned the lantern off and plunged the camp into darkness to begin the first guard shift. As my eyes adjusted, I marvelled at the amount of light given out by the moon and a myriad of stars, which covered the sky like a twinkling blanket. It illuminated the scene in front of me, but the light also cast shadows. And when you’re on guard duty in the middle of the night, on the lookout for bloodthirsty zombies, every shadow of every bush, moving and rustling in the wind, looks like a flesh eating monster. I had no trouble staying alert!
Not feeling tired at all, I waited for three hours before waking Shawn up for his turn. He woke up immediately and I handed him my large torch and crawled into the shelter next to Becky. I tried to sleep, but after an hour of struggling to lie still so as not to disturb her, it became clear that the one thing that would evade me that night was sleep. My mind was still running at a hundred miles an hour. Carefully, I scrambled out of the shelter and went to join Shawn.
I made us both a cup of coffee and we stood watch together, chatting quietly and gradually getting to know each other better. In what seemed like no time at all, the eastern sky began to lighten as a precursor of the approaching dawn.
There was a beautiful sunrise over the moors, and I felt privileged to have been able to witness it. The fact that I might meet a horrible death at any time probably made me appreciate nature’s splendour all the more. One by one Becky, Chet and then Andy woke up and joined us. They all tried to admonish us for not having woken them but Shawn and I were having none of it.
Keeping our voices as low as possible, so as not to wake the children, we planned out the day. I wanted to check out the farmhouse that was just out of sight over the hill. It was the nearest place that might offer us some solid shelter and I felt that we should at least see if it could provide us with more security than we had where we were.
The plan was unanimously agreed on. I wanted to set off straight away, but Shawn insisted that we deconstruct the camp we’d made and take it with us. He explained that he’d thought about this scenario a lot and it was always best practice to take everything you had with you at all times if possible. If you were unable to return for whatever reason, or the camp was overrun by zombies or another group of survivors (both potentially dangerous scenarios), then at least you’d still have most of your gear.
Once again, unable to fault his logic, we agreed and while Becky was gently waking the children, we began to take down and roll up the fencing wire we’d scavenged the day before.
Unsurprisingly Eddie quickly became distraught on waking, as the memories came flooding back. He was a brave boy though, and after a few minutes of comfort from Becky, he’d recovered enough to eat the breakfast we gave him. We used most of the fresh milk for our cereal and for the kids to drink, and there was just enough left over to give us each a last cup of fresh milky coffee.
A shout from Shawn, who was on lookout duty, got us all scrambling to our feet. He was staring through the binoculars at the distant hillside.
‘What’s the matter?’ I asked.
‘Hang on, I thought I saw something. Wait, yes, two people heading this way. They seem to be rushing…….oh shit! Zombies!’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Shawn handed me the binoculars. It took me a while, but I managed to make out two people trying to run through the purple heather. They were so far away it was impossible to make out their gender, but the shambling gait of the figures chasing them was unmistakeable. Straining my eyes, I managed to count five zombies in total.
‘So what do we do guys?’ I asked, passing the binoculars to Becky.
‘Well,’ said Chet slowly, ‘You helped us, so I suppose it would be wrong not to help anyone else. There can’t be that many people left alive, so I guess it’s important that we all stick together. I’m no hero but the human race needs all the help it can get at the moment if we’re all going to come through this.’
Andy butted in, ‘Blinking hell mate, just because you’re in the debating society there’s no need to get all theatrical on us. But yes, I agree, we should try to help them.’
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Unfortunately the terrain was too rough to even contemplate using a car to reach them. Even the Volvo, with its high ground clearance and four wheel drive, wouldn’t make it fifty metres off the track. We were going to have use Shanks’s pony, in other words walk.
I made a quick decision. ‘Look, we’re all going to have to go. If we leave the kids here we’ll need at least two people to protect them and, well, don’t take this the wrong way but only Shawn and I actually have any experience of killing those things, so I’d prefer it if one of us stayed with my family. But given that I can see at least five zombies over there, it’s probably best if we’re all on hand to deal with them.’
‘Dad,’ called Stanley. I turned to find him standing behind me holding his cricket bat. Eddie was beside him gripping my home-made zombie spear in both hands. ‘We can help as well. Eddie and I will protect Mom and Daisy.’
Looking into the distance at the two objects of our discussion, it was soon clear that they weren’t managing to increase their lead on the zombies. If anything the zombies were rapidly gaining ground. They’d be in serious need of some help soon.
I t
ook a deep breath. ‘Come on then, let’s all go. Stanley and Eddie, if you could guard our backs and look after Mommy and Daisy that would be a great help.’
It was the best I could come up with at short notice; the lesser of two evils. I would die before I let anything happen to my family and I was afraid that if they stayed behind, they’d end up in even greater danger if more zombies appeared. Staying together seemed the best idea, and Stanley had already killed a zombie.
Hefting the weapons we’d laid claim to the day before, we got ready to go. Shawn cocked his crossbow and fitted a vicious looking barbed bolt into the groove. He put a bag over his shoulder containing more bolts. I grabbed the large axe and made sure my knife was still in its sheath. Chet and Andy stood around looking nervous, clutching their respective machete and axe.
Just as we were about to set out, Shawn unclipped the spare knife from his belt and walked over to Daisy. Smiling gently at her, he knelt down and clipped it to her belt. Then he looked at Becky. ‘It’s better that she has it so she’ll at least have the chance to defend herself.’
I could see that Becky was about to protest when Daisy spoke up, ‘Mommy it’s ok, I know what I’ve got to do. Everyone else has got something to fight with; it’s not fair if I haven’t.’
I intervened hastily, ‘Becky it’s fine. I’ll give her a good talk later about knife safety. Thanks Shawn.’ Then I looked at Daisy. ‘Do NOT get that knife out unless you’re in danger, do you understand? Leave this to the grown-ups. Now come on everyone, the zombies are almost on top of those people. What the hell is making them so slow? They should easily be able to outpace them!’
As we set out across the moor, I found myself reflecting on the bizarreness of our situation, and I almost laughed out loud. Less than twenty four hours ago I’d been packing the car for a day at the beach with my family. Now we were all striding across a moor, armed to the teeth, hoping to save two people we’d never met before from zombies. In a few minutes I’d be driving my knife through the head of someone who’d once been a normal person.