It occurred to her that, hiding in the church, was not so different to Margaret and the Townies hiding in the town hall. If they decided to make the church their home, in fact, it wouldn’t have been any different at all.
But it was different, she assured herself, because they had tried to fight the zombies and they weren’t really hiding. This was a tactical retreat, because they had children and old people with them now, and it wouldn’t be right to put them in danger.
She glanced at Margaret, as if the old woman would know what she was thinking and feel a sense of victory in it. But all she saw on Margaret’s face was the fear of someone who had never had to fight for themselves, and was now relying on strangers to keep her alive.
They were in sight of the church when the creature attacked. She raised her gun to deal with it, knowing that she couldn’t afford to miss, but before she was able to squeeze off a single shot she was struck from behind.
Her feet left the ground for a moment and then she hit the snow hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. She heard screaming, but it sounded distant and a part of her wondered if it would be easier now to just let herself die, a part of her was tired of fighting.
She waited for the final blow or the teeth that would turn her into one of them, but it didn’t happen. A shadow fell over her and she found that she was still able to feel the cold.
Beth rolled onto her back and felt little shockwaves of pain run through her bones. The super zombie was standing over her and she opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t have her breath back and all that came out was an airless gasp.
* * * * *
The mutant zombies rounded on the super zombie.
Beth managed to scramble to her feet and stood beside it, the creature, her friend. She watched as the rest of the group tried to get away and raised her gun.
The mutants made terrible sounds. They didn’t moan, but whispered and clicked like alien monsters. They barely seemed to notice her.
When the first creature came forwards she killed it before it got close. Then waited for the next one. She told herself that she wasn’t using the last of her ammo to protect the super zombie, that she was keeping the mutants busy so Noel and Darrel could get the others safely into the church, but she knew the truth.
Several mutants came forwards as a group. She shot three of them and the super zombie batted the others away, sending them flying through the air to land in a crumpled pile on the snow.
She squeezed the trigger, got a dry click in response, quickly swapped the magazine and started again. She was able to repeat the procedure once more before her gun clicked dry for the last time and all she was left with was an ineffective club.
“Run.”
Beth looked up, sure for a moment that she had imagined the word. The super zombie couldn’t talk.
“Run Beth,” it said and this time she saw its mouth move and knew that she hadn’t imagined it. The creature didn’t sound like Dale, just as it didn’t look like him, but it retained a certain aspect of him. A ‘Daleness’ that she recognised and clung to.
“I can’t,” she said.
“Run,” the super zombie said.
The mutants seemed to realise that she was defenceless. They crept forward in increasing numbers and she quailed against the super zombie’s side. She couldn’t move, felt paralysed by indecision. This was all too familiar.
It had been a mistake to let Dale sacrifice himself, but it hadn’t been her mistake to make. She had watched him walk into the forest, but she hadn’t been allowed a say in the matter. It had been his decision and there was no more to it than that. It had been a mistake, but not hers.
This was the same but it felt different.
The super zombie wasn’t Dale, but she had fought against that idea for so long that she was no longer sure where the truth lay. It wasn’t Dale, but it had become a kind of surrogate and that was why this felt so familiar, because, whether it was true or not, she felt as if she was sacrificing Dale for her own good, again.
“Run,” the super zombie said.
She made the decision in a split second and knew at once that she was right. Either she died alongside the super zombie or she lived and it died. A similar thought had probably occurred to Dale.
Beth reached for the creature’s hand and took hold of an overgrown finger, like a child grasping its parent’s digit. She squeezed and the super zombie looked down. It lacked the facial muscles to smile, but she saw the peace in its eyes. It no longer seemed right to think of it as a zombie at all.
“Thank you,” Beth said.
The creature nodded and then the first wave of attackers came. It pushed her aside and turned to deal with the mutants.
Beth looked back at it once and then she started to run.
* * * * *
The church was close and the door had been left open. She saw Darrel standing by it, watching her come towards him.
She didn’t look back until she had reached the safety of the stones, and when she did, all she could see, was the mutants piling onto her friend.
“Here!” Darrel said.
Beth turned back to look at him and saw that he was holding out a gun.
“You can still save it,” he said.
She had never really spoken to anyone else in the group about the super zombie. It had always seemed like a dirty little secret that she didn’t want to share. She imagined them judging her, thinking of her as a freak, but then they had all seen the creature draw the attention of the mutants and save them. They had all seen it kill zombies to protect them.
Beth took the gun and handed him hers.
“Quickly,” Darrel said.
She nodded and turned, and saw Margaret standing outside the church wall, surrounded by a group of zombies.
“It’s the last loaded gun,” Darrel was saying behind her.
Beth almost laughed. It was ludicrous. To choose between her friend, who had saved her life on multiple occasions and a woman who had shunned her and tried to have her killed. What kind of choice was that?
She turned from one to the other and wondered why she felt so conflicted.
The super zombie was her friend but he wasn’t Dale. He shouldn’t have existed at all. The other was a human, a living human who had made a mistake. The super zombie wanted to sacrifice itself to keep them safe, and she had to let it, just as she had to forgive Dale for making the same decision all those months ago.
She raised the gun and aimed it.
There were only three shots left, but that was enough to clear a path for Margaret to escape.
When the old woman ran past her, Beth saw that she was crying. Tears of relief ran down her face and froze on her cheeks.
Beth couldn’t stand to look at her, instead she turned to watch her friend die at the hands and claws of the mutant zombies.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
There was a handful of the mutants left by the time the super zombie fell still. Beth and Darrel stood on chairs stacked on tables to watch them through the high windows. She worried that they would turn and try to get into the church, but they didn’t. When they started to eat the remains of her friend she had to look away.
Margaret tried to approach her when she climbed off the table, but Beth pushed her away. Soon they would need to talk and discuss the future, but not now. Now she needed to mourn her friend.
The mutants were taken care of at first light when a rescue party from the street arrived to find them. There was relief and then tears as the survivors shared what they had lost. What they had all lost. And then it was time to go home.
* * * * *
The next few days were difficult and Beth continued to avoid Margaret. Houses were found for the Townies and they began to settle in, but there was still a rift between them, a space that might never be filled.
They were unable to recover the bodies of Russell and Kris, but they held a ceremony for them, down in the park where Kathy was also buried. The townies were there as wel
l, but they kept themselves apart, staying near the back of the group.
Beth realised that she would have to sit down and talk to Margaret eventually, but people were giving her (unrequested) space and she took advantage of it. She spent more time in her room by herself, staring at the walls and trying not to think about everything they had lost. That she had lost.
Eventually there was a knock on her door. She was laying on her bed, fully dressed and staring at the ceiling. She didn’t look up.
“It’s not locked,” she said.
The door opened and she still didn’t look up. She recognised Dawn’s footsteps as she crossed the room and then the squeak of bedsprings and the sinking feeling as she sat down.
At first Dawn didn’t say anything.
“The fire’s out,” Dawn said. “Darrel and some of the others have been inside.”
Beth nodded. She was glad, but only in the sense that it meant they wouldn’t have to move. She didn’t really care about Carningsby, didn’t care if the whole place burned to the ground.
“The town’s a mess,” Dawn continued. “They’re starting to get rid of the zombies, but there’s a lot of them.”
Beth nodded again. They needed her to organise them, but she didn’t feel like she had the strength.
She waited for Dawn to say more but she just sat there.
Beth closed her eyes and wondered whether she would fall asleep. After a moment she found the strength to sit up next to Dawn who turned to look at her and smiled.
“Margaret’s downstairs,” Dawn said. “She’s come every day to talk to you.”
“How long have I been up here?” Beth said.
“Almost a week since the funeral.”
The information shocked her, but there was nothing she could do about it. Perhaps she had even needed the rest and now would be more effective because of it.
Beth nodded but saved her voice. She got up and walked out of the room, leaving Dawn behind.
* * * * *
Margaret was sitting at the kitchen table. It had only been a few weeks since Beth had gotten up and found Russell in the same place, although he’d at least made coffee for them both. Margaret stood and almost knocked her chair over when Beth walked into the room.
“Sit down,” Beth said. She didn’t feel like messing around.
The older woman sat. Beth pulled out a chair opposite her and sat down as well. For a long while neither of them spoke.
“I wanted to thank you,” Margaret said. Her voice quivered.
Beth nodded.
“If it wasn’t for you and your people we’d all be dead.”
Beth nodded again, it was true, she thought, but it didn’t change anything.
“And I’m sorry for your losses.”
Beth sighed and stood up. “Come with me, there’s something you need to see.”
They walked out of the house and onto the street. A few of the children were throwing snowballs and had built more snowmen. They stopped when they saw her. Beth ignored them and led Margaret towards the last house.
* * * * *
Will had been untied from the chair but now sat on the floor in a locked room. The windows had been boarded up and there was no furniture. There was a tray which she assumed had held food but was now empty, she was relieved that someone was feeding him.
She dismissed the guard and unlocked the door.
At first Will just looked up with casual disinterest, then he noticed Margaret and scrambled to his feet like a soldier.
Margaret turned to Beth. “What is this?” she said. “I don’t understand.”
“Will,” Beth said. “Do you want to tell Margaret what happened?”
The boy, and he really seemed like a boy now, regardless of their respective ages, stuttered and spluttered as he explained to Margaret what had happened, what he had done. By the time he was finished, it was clear to Beth, that he had acted alone and without her knowledge. Which set her mind at rest about the threat posed by the Townies.
“What do you want to do with him?” Beth said, once they were out of the house and walking back along the street.
“I can’t believe he did that,” she said. “You have to believe me, I had no idea.”
Beth nodded.
“We can’t leave him there forever,” Margaret said. “It wouldn’t be right.”
“Someone died in the fire,” Beth said.
“It’s terrible, too terrible,” Margaret said, now talking to herself more than Beth.
They were back at her house, sitting at the kitchen table, before Margaret came up with a solution.
“We’ll keep him in there,” she said, shaking her head. “Not forever, but he needs to be punished. I’ll talk to him.”
“How long for?” Beth said.
“I don’t know, what do you think?”
She thought about Kathy and wanted to suggest they threw away the key. “At least until Spring,” she said. “He might not want to stick around once he’s out and it won’t be safe to travel until then.”
“Yes, that sounds right,” Margaret said. “And of course, my people will guard him.”
“About that…” Beth said.
Margaret looked at her and shook her head. “I’m sorry, old habits...”
Beth smiled.
“I can’t promise anything, people are very loyal, but perhaps if we work together…”
Beth smiled again and decided that perhaps this could still work out. “Coffee? I think we’ve got a lot to talk about.”
“Have you got tea?” Margaret said.
Beth paused. The grief of having lost Russell was suddenly overwhelming and over something as silly as coffee. She needed to pull herself together if she was going to get everyone through the winter.
She nodded and switched on the kettle, not wanting Margaret to see the tears rolling down her cheeks.
* * * * *
The two groups worked together to clean up the zombies and make repairs on the buildings they would inhabit through the winter. By the time they were finished it was difficult to tell who was who and where they had started.
The Townies moved into houses on the street and the extra manpower proved more useful than the extra mouths to feed proved a problem. Working together the large group was able to gather more supplies from further away and soon they were able to batten down the hatches and sit out the bad weather.
* * * * *
Beth stood on her doorstep looking out as the last of the supply runs arrived. The Townies had a mechanic among them and had been able to get the truck running again. Once they had a reliable vehicle, filling the stores with food, was the matter of a few short journeys.
The last supply run had been more focused on the future. She’d sent Noel along with Darrel to visit a local DIY superstore and collect all of the seed packets they could find. It had been three weeks since the battle at the Town Hall and, although there was still a lot of healing to do, she no longer felt like running screaming from Carningsby.
Even if they did decide to leave come Spring, they would need to settle down soon. Wherever that was they would need to think about the future. The food and supplies left behind by the old world wouldn’t last forever. If they were going to survive long term, then they needed to farm.
She waved to Darrel and Noel as they climbed out of the truck, then turned away and closed the door behind her. It was going to be a long winter, she thought, but there was hope now. They could have a future together.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Thick snow covered the ground so that Velma didn’t even realise they had arrived. She had watched London appearing on the horizon for the last few days. The huge buildings were like tombstones. They cast dark shadows across the ground and made midday but feel like midnight.
They kept walking and at some point Sam appeared beside her.
“We need to find shelter,” she said.
“What about here?” Sam said. He pointed towards an old pub.
Velm
a wondered if there would still be drink in the bar, and whether it was a good idea to let a bunch of exhausted soldiers in to find out. But it was almost dark now and they needed to stop somewhere, the bar seemed less threatening than the giant glass towers.
“Take a couple of people in and make sure it’s safe,” she said.
Sam nodded. He turned around and nodded at Mark and Lucy who obediently came forwards with their guns up, ready to go.
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”
The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Velma turned quickly, her gun up, trying to identify who had spoken, but there was nobody there.
* * * * *
They crowded around her and raised their guns. Velma felt unsettled by the voice and waited for it to come again but it didn’t. It had come from a speaker, she realised, but she couldn’t see where. Now the street had fallen silent again and all they could do was wait.
A man dressed in a charcoal grey suit and a round bowler hat appeared. There was no snow on him so he hadn’t come from far. He walked towards them without noticeable concern for the fact that he had more than a dozen guns aimed at him.
Velma stepped towards him and the others followed.
“Who are you?” she said.
The man smiled but he looked straight through her. “It’s good of you to come, Ms Beck,” he said.
She felt exposed. She had never met the man before but somehow he knew her name. Velma didn’t know how to respond.
“If you’ll follow me, everything will become quite clear,” he said. Then he turned around and started walking away.
Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Absolute Zero Page 19