“Twice,” Ellen replied. “It was fired twice.”
Marla stared at her open-mouthed. “When?”
“Just now, from that window there… I saw Billy on the ground and…”
“That was you?” Marla gasped. “Ellen?”
Her sister frowned. “Yes, I couldn’t just sit back and watch it happen. I shot him… I mean I shot… I mean twice… two…”
Marla hugged her again and squeezed tightly. “It’s alright, Ellen. They were going to kill us. You saved Billy’s life, you know? You saved him!”
Ellen didn’t reply and nestled against her sister.
“Marla!”
She turned as Tommy’s voice bellowed through the ribs of the narrow boat. Bob started barking loudly inside the bathroom, and Marla heard Peggy and Barney telling him to be quiet. She sprinted towards the back of the boat. Ellen grabbed Tommy’s gun again, which her sister had dropped on the bed, and raced after her.
“What is it?” asked Marla, emerging outside. “Where are the men?”
“Not them,” Tommy replied, nodding at something behind her. “Them!”
Feeling a knot of dread in her stomach, she turned her head slowly and saw the bridge. It was heaving with the dead. Their hideous forms lined either side of the canal and the low, curved brick structure under which they would have to pass.
“Oh my God,” she gasped.
Ellen stepped out and her eyes widened.
“Do you want me to stop?” asked Billy.
“The water is too shallow here,” Harold warned. “If we stay they can swim to us.”
“No,” muttered Ellen, “this isn’t happening.”
“There’s no option. We have to keep going,” said Tommy.
“But they’re going to jump on the boat from the two sides,” Marla answered.
“I say we should go under there as fast as we can,” Harold suggested. “Full throttle and hope for the best.”
“You’re right,” said Marla to Billy. “Do it.”
Tommy ran inside the boat and re-emerged with more ammo, which he threw on the deck, and his second SIG Sauer, which he handed to Billy. “You’re gonna need this. That’s it though – all the guns I’ve got.”
The guy nodded and checked it over. “Easy. Thanks.”
“Is the other exit still locked?” asked Tommy.
“Yes,” said Marla. “Should two of us go down there? What do you think? I’d vote on staying together. If any get inside, they can’t get in the bathroom and it doesn’t have a window. Barney, Ruth and Peggy are safe in there.”
“I’m with you on that,” he replied. “Right, everyone, let’s just go.”
“I think I can get this baby to go quicker,” said Billy, pushed the lever to make the boat go faster, and it ripped through the water at its top speed of 7mph.
“It’s not exactly a speed boat, is it?” joked Marla, but no one laughed and she sensed her timing was way off.
Everyone stared ahead at the approaching bridge and death’s welcoming committee. Although their carrier had speeded up, it did not feel like it to anyone. Marla hugged Ellen and moved her in between herself and Tommy. “Good luck,” she whispered.
As the narrow boat got closer to the bridge, the dead began to surge towards the edges of the gravel paths. Oblivious to what was beneath they continued to step until their bodies plunged into the icy water. After a few moments seemingly disembodied heads began to appear, floating on the gloomy surface, which rippled from the mass movement. The boat tore past as the dead scrambled to grip its wooden sides. Billy pushed the gun into his pocket and picked up one of the spiked poles from the left-hand side of the barge; greater numbers were assembled on that particular bank. He gripped it like a lance, waiting for any of the monsters to get too close.
Tommy shot at the foreheads of the freaks drifting towards them. Bones and brains scattered like confetti across the water, the noise seeming to reverberate in the otherwise stillness. The snarls and groans of the freaks echoed all around, almost hovering in the air, as suffocating as the stench of their own decay and rotting flesh.
Billy pushed and prodded at the monsters to the left, jabbing the spiky end of the pole into their heads, hoping to hold them back at least. Marla and Tommy focused on the right-hand view while Harold checked the rear and left. Ellen shot at the closest creatures, surprised how she no longer even imagined them as remotely human. Since her experience on the train she had realised there was nothing left inside them; they were simply hollow shells, withering like the skin cast off a snake – just a fading echo of what was once alive.
It seemed to take forever for the narrow boat to reach the bridge. Within moments they would pass beneath its curved, brick arch and this nightmare would be over. Deep open water lay ahead with the promise of rest and recuperation. Tommy reloaded his shotgun and glanced at Marla. “Nearly there,” he whispered as a wave of relief washed over him. And then it sank without a trace as the unexpected happened and the hoards of bodies on the bridge began to jump.
“Oh my God,” breathed Marla, as the dead plunged into the dark abyss. Some landed with a thud on the wooden decking at the front of the boat.
“Do I stop?” yelled Billy.
“No!” Tommy shouted back. “Keep going.” He raised his shotgun and aimed across the boat at the freaks that were getting to their feet and stepping on to the flat roof. Two sailed off into oblivion.
Billy exchanged his gun for the pole, which he slipped down the side of the boat again. Ellen and Harold continued to shoot at the heads in the water on the left-hand side, but now there were more of them; they swarmed like rats, she thought, except that was making rats look bad. Billy moved carefully to the right and began picking off the monsters that were surging there.
Marla glanced up at the bridge and started targeting the dead-lookers who looked about to leap. As more of them landed on the end of the boat, Tommy jumped on to the roof. As he blasted his shotgun, the force of the impact sent the freaks flying into the side of the bridge as the boat began to pass under, at which point the danger intensified. Now the creatures that plummeted hit the roof. In the time it took them to stand, Tommy tried to shoot them, often taking two at a time. There was no time to think or feel afraid; only time to react. As the centre of the narrow boat fell into shadow the bodies fell like a sheet. Eight landed on the boat at once while the rest slid into the canal.
“Need help,” yelled Tommy and Marla leapt up beside him. She wavered, almost losing her balance, and he moved his left arm around her waist for support. When she nodded, he removed it and focused on the job in hand. Together they cut through the pack, obliterating one corpse after another. As each one landed on the wooden roof, Tommy and Marla shot at them. As she reloaded he covered her, and vice versa.
Below them, Ellen and Harold worked as a team while Billy switched between keeping the boat straight and lessening the numbers on the left. As the shadow of the bridge passed over the vessel, Harold ducked inside for safety while Ellen and Billy leapt on to the roof and ran forward. As the dead continued to plunge, but this time on to the wooden deck at the rear of the narrow boat, the four turned their guns on them, turning the area into a bloodbath and the canal waters red. By the time the bridge was an afterthought, the shooters were exhausted.
When silence reigned once more, Harold opened the door to a pile of bodies. “I guess we have some cleaning up to do,” he remarked, glancing up at the four faces that peered down at him with expressions showing a mixture of relief and disbelief.
Marla sat down on the roof and wiped her face with the cuff of her denim jacket. “It’s too hot for this,” she said.
Tommy chuckled.
“What?” she asked frowning.
“That’s just the craziest thing to say under the circumstances.”
“But it is. I only wore it cos I needed all the pockets.”
Tommy laughed again and then Ellen caught it.
“I’m going to duck inside to te
ll Peggy and the kids that we’re all fine,” said Harold.
“Don’t let them see this mess though,” Ellen called out.
“Of course,” he replied. “Do you think I’m nuts?”
“I love that old guy,” Billy remarked, sitting down on the clean bit of roof with them.
“I know. I’m so glad we bumped into them,” said Marla. “Imagine – we wouldn’t have known about the lock, deep water and…”
“Ah, please look on the bright side, Marl,” teased Ellen.
“That is the bright side. The dark side is the job of cleaning all these bodies off the boat.”
Everyone fell silent and glanced around. No one moved, not wanting to be the first to volunteer. As they breezed through the tranquil waters they stayed quiet for a while, savouring their escape and this most elusive sense of safety.
Week 6
Sunday, 9
“Okay, you two, have you got all your things packed?” asked Ellen, sitting down on the bed.
“Yep,” said Barney. “I have my things and my mum’s things.”
“And I have Jemima,” said Ruth, sticking her doll in the air and waving her. She screwed up her face and giggled before putting her thumb in her mouth. “And Bub!” she said loudly, patting the dog soundly on the back. He wagged his tail and bounced up before sitting down again where he thumped it up and down on the wooden floorboards.
“Ruth’s stuff is in that one there,” added Barney, pointing.
Ellen glanced at the three bags on the floor. “Good job. Now I’ve packed mine, so I guess we’re all fit to go. Are you ready?”
“I’m going to miss this boat,” Barney admitted with a big sigh.
Ellen smiled. “I am as well… some of it,” she added, adjusting Ruth’s dress, which was threatening to rise up again. “The last three days were great.”
“I like being on water. It is restful.”
“Well, maybe you’ll get to go on a boat some day in future, and hopefully this place we’re going to will be just as good.”
“Do you think it will be?” the boy asked, screwing his face up.
“Well, I haven’t been there before, but I’m hopeful. Let’s keep our hopes up, yes?”
Barney nodded and bent down to play with Bob.
Ellen left the children and walked through to the kitchen area of the narrow boat. “We’re all set now,” she told her sister, who was tidying up in case someone else needed to stay there.
Marla closed the cupboards and turned. “Great. Everyone’s ready, I think. Yes?”
Tommy, Billy, Peggy and Harold nodded to one another.
“We should be arriving in Pewsey in a few minutes,” said Harold, folding up the map he was holding. Peggy hugged him, looking bright and cheerful. “She’s excited,” he added.
“Going to check we’re still going straight,” informed Billy, popping outside.
Ellen turned to Peggy. “I’m sorry we couldn’t go back to your boat for your belongings.”
“Ah, they were only things,” she replied. “We took the important items and we’ve got each other. That’s what’s important.”
“Too right,” Tommy remarked. “And after what we’ve been through on this trip, that’s saying something.”
“I’m going to move all the bags and things to the front doors,” said Marla, walking away.
“I’ll help you,” Tommy offered, following her.
“What’s going on between those two?” whispered Peggy when they were out of earshot.
“Nothing,” Ellen replied.
“It doesn’t look like nothing to me.”
Ellen laughed. “When it comes to my sister anything is possible.”
“Well, let’s stop goofing around and go help. I don’t think we need anything in here,” said Harold, and we’re leaving the keys on the side there, like the previous occupants did.”
“Nice idea,” Ellen replied. “You never know who will need this boat and it’s served us very well.”
They wandered into the bedroom area where everyone was sitting on the beds, waiting patiently while Bob meandered between them, bargaining his big, dopey brown eyes for much welcomed strokes. The door was open and the summer breeze blew in, fresh and welcoming.
“Here we go,” said Harold, beaming. “Pewsey. The map shows loads of fields here, so we could either cut across them or take the main road.”
Everyone looked at one another and replied almost in unison, “Main road.”
Harold smiled. “Alright, so we get off at Pewsey Wharf. There’s a car park, so hopefully we can find some way of getting to Rickslaw.”
Tommy stepped out on to the little deck outside, followed by Marla and Ellen. He glanced down at the red stains on the wood and then out across the water at the moored boats on the left-hand side of them. Wondering if any had any occupants, he listened out for any sounds or voices, but heard none. The engine might have drowned it out anyway.
“It’s quiet,” Marla remarked.
“Quiet is okay,” said Ellen.
“Hope so. I’m expecting we’ll find people here. Maybe even transport is still running. We’re a long way from the city now.” Marla gazed at the empty green fields on either side as they chugged along, passing yellow-coloured farmland, full of crops. “See, someone must be tending that.”
Tommy remained quiet as he took in the scenery. “Bridge ahead,” he called out to Billy. “I think this is where we stop. Looks like a main road going across it.”
“A345, Marlborough Road,” Harold informed them, glancing at his map. On the left here is Pewsey Wharf. This is the quiet end of the village. Just fields really. We’ll need to head south, past the station and through the residential area. The A345 runs all the way through. I’m hoping we see signs for Rickslaw, because I can’t see it on the map.”
“It isn’t marked?”
“Remember the note from Eric and what Billy said?” asked Marla. “Billy said the radio announcement mentioned some buildings were either government or army facilities at secret locations – well, secret before all this happened. And Eric said Rickslaw isn’t on a map and to look out for a road. I’ll check the note, because I can’t remember the name offhand.”
Tommy nodded. “Right, so let’s hope things are still normal around here. We haven’t seen any freaks for a couple of days, so maybe.”
Billy pulled the throttle backwards to slow the narrow boat and turned towards the bank, aiming for a 30-degree angle. When it was about five feet away, he steered gently to straighten up. Engaging reverse gear, he drew the vessel parallel with the bank of the canal and then stopped.
“Nice work, Billy,” Marla called out. “Professional.”
He grinned back. “I do my best.”
Taking the mooring pins, he secured the boat while everyone else took the luggage ashore. Marla checked out the surroundings. Quiet. When Billy caught up, everyone took their own bags and Ellen picked up Ruth. Tommy still gripped his shotgun and Marla her handgun while Billy kept hold of the spare he’d been given after losing his rifle. Barney did not bat an eyelid at the sight of the guns, Marla noticed. The kid had gotten used to the sight of them and she felt a stab of sadness at that.
Tommy strode slightly ahead as usual as he led them up the gravel path alongside the water’s edge. At the end there was a metal gate, which he held open for everyone to pass through. Billy winked at him and joked, “Want a tip?”
Tommy grinned. “Okay?”
“Don’t piss in the wind!”
“Right,” he answered, laughing. “And I have one for you…”
Billy raised an eyebrow.
“Never cross a cow.”
Billy scowled. “Never cross a cow? That’s not even funny.”
“I don’t think the cow would find it funny either,” Tommy replied with a smirk.
“Never cross a cow?” mumbled Billy, shaking his head from side to side as he traipsed after the man. “A cow…?”
Tommy hastened his pac
e to take his usual spot at the head of the line where Marla was walking next to Ellen. She smiled at him. “It’s quiet. Nice pub,” she added, pointing with her head.
He glanced at the large red-brick building with a grey roof. A couple of tables with chairs and umbrellas were set outside. “We could pop in and ask if they know where Rickslaw is or if any buses are running,” he suggested.
“Do you think it’s open?” she asked. “It seems quiet, but then it isn’t boarded up.”
“I’ll check,” Tommy offered.
Marla sighed. “I’ll come with you. Guys, wait here, we’ll just be a minute.”
They strode towards the building and found no signs on the door to suggest it was closed. Tommy pushed on the black-painted wooden door, which creaked open. The smell of sawdust and stale beer greeted him, and he smiled instinctively. It was a heart-warming scent: normality. Holding the door for Marla to take, Tommy walked further inside.
The space was huge and painted white with black beams everywhere. Old-fashioned looking and the kind of place he could easily spend an evening in, no bother. Circular, black-painted tables were lined up on either side of the room, surrounded by chairs. Here and there were booths offering more privacy. Tommy walked forwards, taking in the jukebox and various photographs of Pewsey in the past. The bar was situated against the furthest wall.
Marla walked between the tables to where the pub opened up into a separate room. “Going here,” she said softly and Tommy nodded. She walked below an arch created by black-painted beams, and into the smaller space in which there were a few leathery looking sofas and some more round tables. The windows looked out on the canal. She gazed outside for a moment, but the water looked peaceful. Shrugging, Marla left the room to find Tommy. He was checking the various draughts at the bar.
“I don’t think anyone is here,” Marla remarked.
“But the door was open and everything looks as if someone has just walked away. These tables aren’t dusty and the glasses all look clean.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” she replied.
I Dream of Zombies Page 29