by Ricky Fleet
“I’ll give it to the production team, the makeup is first class,” Patricia exclaimed as the face broke the surface.
“Nice try, dumbass!” Denise shouted to the struggling, groaning figure.
Its face was peeling, maggots falling from the open mouth and worms churning in the empty sockets. The effects really were first class but the time for playing was over as it reached out for them. The sleeves rode up, showing mottled, grey skin which tore at the wrist and leaked vile fluids.
“Honey, I’m not sure about this,” Denise cautioned, moving behind the headstone. She had been around death every week of her working life, and this thing reeked of decay.
“Freeze or I spray you with this!” Patricia shouted, pointing the nozzle.
The creature thrashed and struggled against the compressive weight of soil which had closed around its chest.
“Do it!”
Patricia pressed the trigger and a stream of chemicals sprayed directly in its face, washing the worms out of the empty sockets. Unaffected by the astringent defensive liquid, Patricia took a pace backwards in shock as the truth hit her.
“That thing is real,” she gasped.
“Not for long,” Denise snarled through clenched teeth as she pressed a shoulder to the heavy gravestone.
Using a rocking motion, the soil broke and the hunk of marble toppled, crushing the monstrosity beneath. Green ooze splashed the mud and surrounding grass pathway.
“There’s another one!” Patricia cried, pointing to a patch of grass thirty feet away that had another pair of arms reaching from it.
“Help me get this pipe!” Denise called, kicking at an upright steel pipe that ended with a tap which mourners could use to water the flowers on their loved ones’ grave.
Using all their might, they managed to break it off in the joint below ground and a jet of water erupted into the sky. Dodging the cascading liquid, they raced over just as the woman was climbing out of the ground. Dead for many months, her dress had mostly disintegrated, leaving only the smallest scraps stuck to her taut, wet skin. Hearing movement she turned her head and looked at them with cloudy, white eyes.
“No apocalypse today,” Denise declared and slammed the pipe into her head. Brain matter spilled from the shattered skull and soaked into the disturbed earth beneath her body.
“Here!” Patricia beckoned, dodging the snapping teeth of an exposed head while trying to stamp it to death. The scalp had peeled away, exposing the white cranium.
“It’s like a game of whack-a-mole!” Denise exclaimed, excitedly.
“I can’t believe you’re enjoying this!” Patricia fired back.
“I’m not the run away, screaming and fall over my own feet type of gal,” she replied, picking another target.
“Honey, I love your enthusiasm, but we need to get help.”
They had slain eleven zombies but forty more had broken through around the cemetery and more were even now trying to escape their place of rest. Denise weighed the odds and decided discretion was the better part of valour.
“Call the police and let’s get people away from here. How is this even possible?”
Dialling 999, Patricia looked over and shrugged as they jogged around to the church entrance.
“Yes, Police… thank you,” Patricia spoke into the handset.
Denise leaned inside the dark interior of the church and screamed for people to get out and away from the area. Opting to use the threat of a gas leak and impending explosion instead of the risen dead, the tourists hastily left the building. They looked at her with wary eyes at the sight of the green, blood dripping weapon and hurried all the faster for it. One final scan of the building showed everyone had left and she raced down the path to join Patricia who was engaged in a war of words with the control room.
“… I know how crazy it sounds, but if you don’t send everyone you have to us right now people will die. Make sure they are stocked up on ammunition too… What do you mean routine patrols are unarmed?... Well what good will a damned Taser do?... Hello?...”
“What’s going on?”
Patricia cupped the mouthpiece, “She’s put me on hold. I forgot the British Police don’t have guns.”
“Only armed response units carry,” Denise replied.
Patricia pointed at the church. The first zombies had rounded the building, groaning at the sight of the two women. Covered in dark patches of putrescence, it was hard to know what was decay and what was smeared mud from their recent extraction from the ground.
“…Yes, hello… What do you mean?... Oh my goodness… Ok, we’ll do what we can, but for the love of God please hurry with whatever you can spare!”
Denise could see by the look on her friend’s face it wasn’t good news, “What did they say?”
“They thought I was a whack job at first. Apparently, there are now multiple calls coming in from across the area of the same thing,” Patricia said with growing horror.
“Is anyone coming?”
“They are low on available units and can only send two cars. ETA fifteen minutes. Until then they asked us to get as many people clear as possible.”
“Damn.” Denise looked around and quickly compartmentalized the situation in much the same way as she had during her time with Buffalo PD. The threat was clear and limited to one area for now but that would change rapidly as the undead dispersed. Protection efforts would be focused on evacuation and not confrontation. She knew enough from reading apocalyptic fiction and watching TV shows that a bite might prove fatal and they would, in turn, join the horde. It wasn’t a theory that she wanted to put to the test. All of this flashed through her mind in a split second.
“Tell me what to do,” Patricia said, sensing the decisions had been made.
“Start clearing people from the area down that way,” Denise ordered, pointing to the west, “Then circle around to the south and meet me at the intersection by the eastern gate house.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to try and hold them here for as long as possible. I’ll then head back the way we came and meet you in ten minutes.”
Acting on instinct, Patricia nodded and jogged away, shouting at people to get clear. The British sense of reticence saw most people avoid eye contact or smile politely at the crazed American lady as she harangued them. Something about her manner gave them pause, though; the fear and concern was genuine and several started to follow obediently.
Denise looked away, knowing that her friend was capable of kicking ass. A delivery truck was approaching and she stepped out into the road, stopping it in a squeal of rubber. The zombies were only fifteen feet from the gate and anything she could do to slow their movements would save lives.
“What’s your fucking problem?” shouted the man, jumping out of the van.
“That’s my fucking problem,” Denise shouted back, pointing at the undead horde.
“Holy shit, what are they?”
“Zombies,” Denise answered matter-of-factly, climbing into the driver’s seat.
Gunning the engine, she released the clutch and the two-tonne vehicle bolted forwards. Aiming directly for the gates, the first zombies were pushing through into the street. The van crashed straight through, flinging them back into the church gardens. Several more were dragged under the wheels and crushed flat. Pulling the handbrake up, she jumped through the seats and climbed over scattered boxes towards the rear door. Pulling the handle and pushing outwards, light spilled in and the van driver helped her to jump down.
“That should hold them for a few minutes,” Denise explained. The archway and gates were completely obliterated but the wedged vehicle had plugged the hole for now.
“I need to get back to my family,” gasped the man, realising that his means of transport was now gone.
“Take my car, it’s a red Vauxhall Astra parked on Tarrant Street.” Denise tossed him the keys and he hugged her quickly before sprinting off down the road.
People had
started to gather around to see what all the commotion was about. Using her most authoritative voice, she turned to the crowd, “Get away from the area, now! You’re all in great danger. If you have a vehicle, return to it and get as far away as possible. Anyone that lives in the town, I advise you to return to your home and seal yourself inside until we can resolve the situation.”
“What situation?” asked one of the crowd.
They could hear the groaning, but the high wall of the church prevented them seeing the threat beyond.
“Zombies,” declared Denise.
Many of the crowd rolled their eyes and some chuckled while shaking their heads. She couldn’t blame them for their cynicism. Hell, five minutes ago, she and Patricia had tried to Mace the first cadaver.
As if on cue, one of the corpses which had been pulled under the vehicle dragged itself free. Face torn, revealing blackened stumps of teeth, it tried to stand on shattered legs. Bones protruded through the rotting thighs, preventing the attempt and it opted to drag itself towards them instead.
Screams of horror confirmed that the message had finally registered and Denise corralled the living humans eastward to liaise with Patricia. “Move, now!”
Cars had turned the corner and the crowd were doing an excellent job of flagging them down and getting them to turn around. One man was losing it and tried to wrestle the female occupant out so he could steal her vehicle. Denise kicked him in the back of the knee hard enough to drop him and prised the fingers from the torn dress of the victim.
“Go!”
Shocked by the assault, the woman just gaped until Denise gave her a gentle slap. An arm lashed out from the man on the ground and she grabbed the wrist, twisting it in a fluid movement and turning him over with a shriek of pain.
“Ma’am, get out of here!” Denise yelled and the woman flinched, slamming the door shut and spinning wheels as she pulled a U turn, narrowly missing a few of the crowd.
“Get the fuck off me!” snarled the man from under her knee.
“Sir, I need you to calm down. You aren’t helping the situation.”
Ignoring the request, he bucked and tried to pull his trapped arm free. Denise pushed it higher, stretching tendons and making him shriek again, “I said calm down!”
“Ok! I’m calm!”
Carefully releasing him, she took a couple of paces backwards in case he wanted to retaliate. He stood up and she could see he was simply terrified and wanted to get away.
“Sir, where’s your vehicle?”
“We came in a coach. I don’t have a car,” he replied, massaging his shoulder.
“Head to the main road and flag down a taxi. Don’t let me see you trying to steal another car!”
“I live over four hours away,” he sobbed, “I don’t have the money for the fare. How will I get back to my family?”
Denise pulled out her purse, withdrew every banknote and handed the bundle over. “There’s two hundred pounds there. Is that enough?”
Eyes welling with tears of gratitude, he took the money and nodded. “I’m sorry. Thank you.”
Praying it would help, she smiled and urged him to go. With reports of attacks all over the district, she wasn’t sure if she had just signed his death warrant and considered calling him back. Knowing that she would do everything humanly possible to get back to her own family, she let him go. Thoughts flooded her head about reaching the airport and leaving the country, but that journey was at least two hours long as well. Any outbreak of even a rudimentary pathogen would result in air traffic being grounded, so what would be the protocol for the living dead? Deciding it would be no different, she put her faith in God to keep her family safe in the States.
Clotted gurgling from her rear caused her to twist on her heels. The dead had found another way out of the grounds and shambled towards them.
“Run!”
“How can this be happening?” huffed a young woman who was running alongside her.
“No idea. It doesn’t matter right now, we need to get to safety first.”
“Where’re we going?”
“To the eastern gatehouse and then the castle. I can’t think of anywhere around here that is more defensible.”
Denials and arguments broke out among the crowd at the plan. Denise slowed to a walk as they reached the gate and she turned to them. “I was talking about myself. I’d advise y’all to do the same, but I know family comes first.”
Patricia rounded the corner with a sizeable group and they merged to share experiences.
“A lot of people went back indoors and others just ignored me.”
“You did the best you could.” Denise hugged her briefly. “Let’s get moving.”
The large group moved off and the sounds of screaming and rending metal from collisions began. Denise was incapable of leaving people to fight alone and ordered Patricia to get to safety.
“Hell no!”
“Sweetie, I need you to help those people. I promise I’ll meet you at the southern gate in ten minutes.”
Hesitating for a second, she was close to refusing the request. Knowing Denise was a woman who kept her word, though, she nodded reluctantly. “You’d better be there. Be careful.”
They parted ways and Denise hefted the iron pipe onto her shoulder. Jogging down Maltravers Street which paralleled the zombie infested road, she reached the corner and could see the undead were already tearing people apart. A car had ploughed through the horde, buried itself into a building and the steam poured from the bonnet. Twenty of the zombies had surrounded the stricken car and hammered on the glass to reach the treat inside. An elderly couple were in mortal danger, the husband striking out with a walking stick while his brave wife beat them with her handbag.
“Keep away from them!” Denise shouted, racing over and dodging the grasping hands of a fresher corpse.
The ineffective weapons didn’t help and they were pulled down before Denise could reach them. Their screams of agony were long and shrill, but even in their final moments, the lady’s hand reached out and clasped her husband’s. Utilising the distraction, she crushed three heads before she had to retreat. A car was coming up the road and she sprinted towards it.
“Move over!” she ordered, pushing the male driver across into the passenger seat.
“What are you doing?”
“The dead have risen!” Denise explained. “We need to kill as many as we can.”
Instead of staying in the car with the obviously psychotic American lady, he flung himself out of the vehicle. Standing up and shaking himself, he saw the approaching dead and hastily climbed back inside.
“You were telling the truth!”
“I know,” Denise muttered.
Reversing at speed, she pulled on the handbrake, causing a screeching one hundred and eighty degree turn. Keeping it in reverse, she twisted and placed an arm over the passenger seat. Gunning the engine, the wheels spun and the car shot back up the hill. Using it like a battering ram, she hammered through the gathered dead, sending them flying. One of the zombies had crashed through the rear window and, fortunately, the head was split in two.
“Get us out of here!” yelled the man, gagging at the stench of death.
“Not yet!” Denise cried, accelerating forward before shifting into reverse again.
“You’re nuts!”
“Maybe,” Denise laughed and crushed the accelerator flat, propelling them backwards again.
The second impact was rewarded with crunches of broken bone and squelching of compressed flesh. Looking around the vehicle, the scattered dead started to rise. In the wing mirror, the elderly couple were on their feet and giving chase. Neither had a face anymore and the love that had driven them to hold each other was as dead as they were. Their only desire was to eat the flesh of the living.
“We need to get out of here!”
“Ok,” Denise agreed. The numbers were too high and if the car got surrounded they would be doomed.
A ten-minute walk took le
ss than a minute in the speeding car. She held her hand on the horn for the whole journey in the hope it would alert people to the coming danger. Judging by the bemused or angry glances it wasn’t successful.
“Thank you for letting me use your car.”
“Where should I go?” asked the man, scooting across into the driver’s seat again.
“Either join us at the castle or get as far away as possible,” Denise ordered, pulling the body from the rear of the car.
“I have a baby, I have to get to her.”
“Be safe and God speed,” Denise said and he closed the door. With a nod through the glass he was gone.
“What happened?” Patricia asked as she hugged her friend, staring at the leaking mess on the ground.
“I couldn’t help anyone,” she answered, quietly, “There were just too many.”
“You did what you could, sweetheart. Let’s get inside and we can find out where the damned police are.”
“There’s nothing they could do against what’s coming. We need the army,” she replied, turning to address the crowd, “Folks, I have no idea what is going on but I know everyone is in mortal danger. We are going to head inside the castle and try and set up a safe zone. You’re more than welcome to join us. Alternatively, you need to get as far away as possible, but the police have informed me this is occurring all around the area.”
Ignoring any questions, Patricia and Denise headed under the archway and into the castle grounds. Those that were going to follow did so, and the rest headed off on their own course.
“Do you really think we can hold them back while others make their way here?” Patricia whispered and the haunted look on Denise’s face answered the question.
Marching up the winding path, the gigantic castle loomed. With each pace, the towering walls grew in their vision until they had to crane their necks fully to see the parapets. The lowest windows were twenty feet off the ground and totally inaccessible because of the steeply angled banks leading up to the stonework. That which had kept the fortification safe from human enemies for a thousand years would now do the same to the undead.
“We’re lucky that we chose to visit today. Look at this place,” Patricia exclaimed at the sight.