The Undead Day Fifteen

by RR Haywood

‘He wants some bullets,’ Bob says to someone else, ‘does he have to have the requisitions sheets? You got the requisitions sheets there nipper?’

  ‘Er, no Bob…we don’t as er…kind of like, seeing as how the, er…world has sort of ended?’

  ‘Oh right, ended has it. He says the world has ended, does he still need the requisitions sheets? Hullo nipper, I’m being told you don’t need the requisitions sheets now.’

  ‘Great,’ I say with forced lightness, ‘can we get some bullets then please.’

  ‘Ah now that’s a common mistake,’ Bob replies with an obvious smile, ‘you don’t get the bullets you see, we gives them to you…so you have the bullets, like when you order food in a café like, you don’t actually get it yourself do you…’

  ‘Sean Lock said that,’ I say scratching my chin thoughtfully.

  ‘Sean who? He work here does he? We got a Sean working here now? I think this nipper knows him.’

  ‘No, Sean…Sean Lock…he’s a comedian…he did a joke about ordering coffee in Starbucks or something and did the whole get and have routine.’

  ‘Oh did he? Funny is he?’

  ‘Er, yeah…very funny…’

  ‘Probably one of them modern ones that swears all the time. We had Bob Monkhouse back in my day, he made me laugh he did…oh, I got to hand you back over to Derek, nice talking to you nipper and I’ll say hello to Sean if I see him, over and out.’

  ‘I’m back,’ Derek announces, ‘that was Bob you were talking to.’

  ‘Yes I er…I figured that one out. Er, Derek…can we have some bullets please? We probably got off on the wrong foot back there but er…we,’ I glance back at the Saxon, make a decision and hope for the best, ‘it’s just that our..er…battalion is scattered all over place and er…HQ are demanding that we clear our sector er…before we can er…go to…er…the next sector?’

  ‘Battallion? What battalion you with? Which outfit you with? Who is the commanding officer then?’

  Shit. Think…’Er…it’s the newly formed one, Derek…under the command of…’ who was that bloke we met at Salisbury? The annoying officer?’ ‘Er…Gibbs, we’re under Galloway-Gibbs, he was from the intelligence service, er, arm of the er…Royal Logistics but really you know, I shouldn’t be passing that information on.’

  ‘You think that’s going to work? Pretending to be from the military? Not a chance,’

  ‘Fine, then just give us some bullets and we’ll sod off.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ he says with an air of indifference, ‘what you got then?’

  ‘Been through this, Derek, we don’t have anything.’

  ‘You said you had guns.’

  ‘Changed my mind. We need them.’

  ‘What use are your guns without rounds?’

  ‘What use are your rounds without guns?’

  ‘We already have guns.’

  ‘Then you don’t need ours. Derek, I’m running out of time here mate…please, I’m asking you nicely, we’ve been through hell out here but we’ve survived and we’ve got people to look after…’

  ‘Your problem, should have found a secure place like we did.’

  ‘You didn’t find it! I bet you already worked there…what were you? The night shift or something?’

  ‘Doesn't matter what we were, only that we’re here and you ain’t…and no trade means no bullets.’

  ‘Derek?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do you have women and children in there?’

  ‘Is that a threat?’

  ‘No mate, but I suggest you put them somewhere in the back where they won’t get hurt because we are coming in and we are taking the bullets.’

  ‘You will not get inside this facility and any attempt will result in you being fired upon.’

  ‘We don’t want that, we don’t want anyone getting hurt at all…but we need ammunition, we’ll back up and you can pop some outside these doors for us…’

  ‘We can do that, once you’ve worked out what you can trade for them.’

  ‘We don’t bloody have anything!’

  ‘We need alcohol. Go into the local town and get some booze for us, decent stuff mind. Scotch, Brandy…get some wine too…in fact bring back as much as you can carry.’

  ‘We’re not going to do that, Derek.’

  ‘And the lads asked for some adult magazines too, you know…the top shelf stuff…bloody internet has gone down and…’

  ‘You want to get pissed and have a wank? While we’re out here. I saw my sister being killed in front of my eyes. I saw my friends taken and infected, then had to kill them. We’ve all had to do those things but…’

  ‘And we’ve all had to make sacrifices.’

  I stomp back towards the Saxon with a face like thunder, ‘Dave….where are you?’

  ‘In here…where I was before…’

  ‘We need to get inside.’

  ‘Okay,’ he jumps down from the Saxon and watches me approach then switches his gaze to take in the building. He thinks for a moment, stares at the building line then traces his gaze down to the front doors…’ram those doors, Mr Howie.’

  ‘That your plan is it?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Howie.’

  ‘Awesome plan, Dave.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I was being sarcastic. Right, everyone out, we’re going to ram the doors…’ Everyone scrambles to get out the Saxon as quickly as possible.

  ‘Er boss,’ Clarence interjects over the scuffling, ‘I think everyone should stay in…in case they fire at us…’

  ‘Right, everyone stay in the Saxon,’ I shout as I clamber up into the driver’s seat. Confusion reigns as some people turn around to head back to their seats, whilst others didn’t hear me and try to keep going, colliding with those turning around. ‘And bloody hang onto something. I’m gonna punch that man in the face…right in the chops…and like really hard too.’

  ‘What man?’ Clarence asks.

  ‘The man!’ I shout back as I start reversing the Saxon back to get a good run up, ‘the man on the intercom…I’m gonna punch him…no…actually, Blowers!’

  ‘Yes, Mr Howie…’

  ‘You’re good at punching…you are going to punch the man in the face.’

  ‘Okay, Mr Howie…what for?’

  ‘Mr Howie does not have to explain why he wants someone punched in the face, Simon.’

  ‘Sorry, Dave. Okay Mr Howie, er…will you point him out? Or er…do I just punch anyone?’

  ‘Punch anyone…but not women…or kids. Punch any men, unless they’re old or disabled or like…wearing glasses… Any able bodied man, punch any able bodied man.’

  ‘Can we all punch the able bodied men?’ Nick asks.

  ‘Yep, everyone find an able bodied man and punch him. But not Bob.’

  ‘Who’s Bob?’ Clarence asks.

  ‘Lovely old fella, worked there for donkeys years.’

  ‘What about able bodied women?’ Lani asks.

  ‘Yes…er…Lani and Paula punch the able bodied women and everyone else find an able bodied man…apart from Clarence…’

  ‘Huh? Why?’

  ‘You’re too big.’

  ‘I’ll punch soft.’

  ‘Right, everyone braced…fucking gonna get inside and punch men!’

  I press my foot down and stare at the doors, the engine roars, screams, shouts and curses as it gains momentum and speed. I don’t hammer it as we don’t need great speed, just enough to punch through. I hold my middle finger up facing towards the intercom as we get closer and the solid line of the building suddenly looks very big, and very tough and we’re going very fast…shit…shit…this was a bad idea.

  A cacophony of screams as we all slightly panic at the second before impact. Clarence holds on dearly, everyone holds on, screaming and yelling, apart from Dave who just hangs on and gives one of his big grins at the prospect of something being broken and smashed.

  The impact is monumental. The doors give instantly as we plough through,
glass smashing, metal framework screeching and twisting, bricks thudding down onto the Saxon and the big wheels churn us further into the reception area as we smash into sofas, reception desks, computers and chairs. Grinding, smashing noises resound out and the big vehicle judders and shakes as we skid and slide across the polished floor to slam into the end wall. We come to rest in a dust cloud of debris spewing out everywhere. The engine cuts out and gradually we regain some composure as the noises trickle down to the odd thump of bricks and masonry falling and glass tinkling on the ground.

  ‘Shit…’ I groan and shake my head, ‘bit fast…sorry…’

  ‘A bit?’ Clarence glares at me, ‘fucking hell, boss…we almost went right through…’

  Still groaning, I go to push my door open and realise we’re wedged in against the far wall. I don’t say anything but motion for Clarence to scoot out so I can clamber over. He does and drops down to shake his head and look round at the trail of destruction behind us.

  ‘Actually,’ I say mildly, ‘that was easier than I thought it would be, I really thought we might bounce off.’

  ‘Why did you do it then?’ Lani asks, ‘no, don’t answer…just…just don’t answer.’

  Clarence stares round then fixes his eyes on a set of double doors at the end. Kicking broken furniture aside he threads a route over and starts feeling the doors before banging on them few times, ‘metal,’ he calls back, ‘the reception wasn’t reinforced, this is the reinforced bit.’

  ‘Oh…oh shit…so…we’ve still got to get through there? Are they solid?’

  ‘Very solid,’ he bangs again, a dull thud which is clearly from solid metal with no sign of any hollow sections.

  ‘Bollocks, Dave…we need to get inside those doors.’

  ‘The doors are the strongest point,’ he remarks, ‘we need to go for the weakest point.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Windows.’

  ‘Won’t they be toughened?’

  ‘Yes, but still weaker than the wall or that door,’ he replies dully.

  ‘And they’ll be on the other side waiting to shoot us,’ Clarence adds helpfully.

  ‘Right, Saxon it is then,’ I head back and get through the passenger side into my driver’s seat and then commence a long, drawn out, million point turn as I try and get the huge vehicle away from the wall and turned to face the doors. Eventually, and with everyone watching with interest, I get the front of the Saxon up and touching the doors with Clarence guiding me in. He gives a thumbs up and shouts, ‘try now, hard forward.’

  Dramatically, I push my foot to the floor. The engine screams and the big wheels spin on the tiled floor. We don’t go anywhere.

  ‘Back up and ram,’ Clarence shouts.

  So I do. I reverse until the back of the Saxon hits the end wall with a nice big bang. There are some winces from those watching, but I go for it. I charge several tons of metal against several tons of metal. The noise is a resounding boom but little else happens other than I almost smash my face into the steering wheel.

  ‘Try the wall,’ the big man motions me to pull back then points at the section of wall right next to the door. The back of the Saxon hits the wall again, more winces, forward gear and I surge the vehicle across the once pretty reception area that is slowly getting completely ruined. The boom is less than before, more of a grinding wallop than anything but the wall does shake as the front end gauges nice big chunks of plaster away from the render. While I back up, Clarence, Roy and the lads all crowd in to stare, point and poke at the damaged wall. There’s much shaking of heads, some sucking of teeth and Roy even puts his hands on his hips, all he needs is a pencil behind his ear.

  ‘Reinforced,’ Clarence shouts, ‘it’ll go but it’ll take some doing.’

  ‘Fair enough, mind out then,’ I try again, ramming the front of the vehicle into the wall then reversing back until I collide with the other wall. Back and forth until the reception room fills up with acrid diesel fumes and the tiles become black from tyre rubber. It does strike me that the poor Saxon is probably wondering what she’s done to deserve having her head repeatedly smashed into a solid concrete wall.

  I do this seven or eight times and Clarence once again waves me to stop while the general builders gather round to inspect the works and get ready for the quote. They pick bits of broken concrete out from the hole forming, inspecting it, pointing at it, turning it over in their hands, nodding, shaking heads before I get the go ahead to try again.

  Another few times back and forth and my head starts hurting from the fumes building up in the enclosed space, the noise and the constant jolts. The concrete is smashed away in huge spots only to expose steel rods running through the wall. These get inspected by the builders and I notice there are much less nods this time and far more shaking of heads. I jump down and head over.

  ‘No good,’ Roy turns as I approach, ‘these rods are too thick…only way through would be by cutting them with a torch.’

  ‘Bollocks, how about a digger or something? If we got one of those…would that work?’

  ‘Eventually,’ he nods, ‘but it won’t be a quick process.’

  The frustration builds again, delay after delay. One step forward and ten steps back. We can’t afford these delays and it’s alright for everyone to fucking stand about waiting for me to make a decision. Let Mr Howie figure it out. Let Mr Howie work out how to get inside. Let Mr Howie talk to the fuckwit through the intercom and negotiate.

  Irritation escalates straight past annoyance, ignores anger and goes straight for fury, pure bloody fury. Fury at having to deal with everything and being the one who decides everything. Fury at knowing we have to find Marcy to work out our next step but having to deal with Lani and everyone else. Fury at being seen as the bad guy for making everyone run a few miles today and having to say no to Maddox to going back for a meal and a rest. A fucking rest! Yeah let’s sit round and talk about how well we’ve all done finding four doctors.

  ‘I want in that building,’ muttering to myself, the darkness in my eyes again, ‘I want in that building…’ The others turn slowly in ones and twos to watch me muttering to myself, ‘I want in…I want in…’

  ‘Mr Howie?’ Paula says with real concern in her voice, ‘are you okay?’

  ‘I want in.’

  ‘Howie,’ Lani starts towards me, ‘we’ll get in, just take it easy.’

  ‘I want in,’ I say it louder.

  ‘And we will,’ she says soothingly.

  ‘NOW…I want in that fucking building NOW!’

  ‘Hey,’ she says softly, ‘take it easy.’

  ‘No. I want inside that fucking building…fucking pricks sat in there drinking tea and wanking off in the toilets while we’re out here getting the shit beaten out of us…’

  ‘Howie,’ urgency in her voice as she reaches out to grasp my hand which I pull away harshly.

  ‘Fucking…fucking…Sarah died right in front of me…Chris…Ted…remember Ted?’

  ‘Of course, yes of course, Howie.’

  ‘Remember Ted and the others? Remember them? They died…THEY FUCKING DIED WHILE THAT LOT SAT IN THERE TALKING ABOUT FUCKING CONSPIRACY THEORY….THEY’VE GOT THE BULLETS…’

  ‘Boss,’ Clarence strides towards me with an alarmed expression, ‘calm down.’

  ‘Calm down! Fucking calm down…I’ll fucking calm down when I get inside and smash that cunts face in…’

  ‘Hey!’ Lani says sharply, ‘you don’t say that word.’

  ‘What, cunts? They are cunts…YOU HEAR ME? YOU FUCKING HEAR ME, YOU CUNTS.’

  ‘Stop it, stop it right now and come with me,’ she starts pulling me away, dragging me towards the smashed in wall we drove through.

  ‘CUNTS…FUCKING CUNTS…I’LL GET IN THERE AND RIP YOUR FUCKING FACES OFF…I’LL FUCKING END YOU, YOU PRICKS…’

  ‘Dave! Get him outside now,’ Lani snaps, ‘Dave!’

  ‘No,’ he refuses bluntly.

  ‘David! Take him outside, you’re
the only one he’ll listen to.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Dave,’ Clarence growls, ‘what the hell has got into you two…boss, come on…I’m taking you outside.’

  ‘NO! I’m getting inside that fucking building…get out the way.’

  ‘Don’t touch him,’ Dave warns Clarence as the big man goes to stop me striding towards the Saxon.

  ‘Lads,’ Clarence holds his hands out with the palms outwards, ‘easy…take it easy…Dave, you know I’d never hurt him.

  ‘That’s right. You won’t.’

  ‘Dave…he’s losing it, he needs a time out.’

  ‘He’s doing what needs to be done.’

  ‘Dave,’ Lani appeals to him while I wrench the driver’s door open, ‘stop him…stop him before he does something stupid.’

  ‘Mr Howie doesn't do anything stupid,’ he replies.

  ‘Dave for fuck’s sake,’ Clarence starts towards the Saxon as Dave steps in front of him, ‘Dave…please…move aside.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘GET OUT THE FUCKING WAY,’ I scream, ‘MOVE OR GET RUN OVER…’

  ‘Dave, he’s losing it,’ Clarence pleads, ‘get him out of there.’

  ‘Dave,’ Blowers moves forward followed by Nick and Cookey, ‘Dave, do something.’

  ‘MOVE!’ I start the engine and grind gears while the rage spills out into my trembling hands, ‘I want in…I want in…I’m getting in…FUCKING GET IN REVERSE,’ screaming at the gear shift I finally get it in and slam my foot down to pull back with a crash into the back wall.

  ‘DAVE!’ Lani shouts, ‘He’ll hurt himself…get him out now.’

  ‘You are moving,’ Clarence starts forward with a grim look at Dave.

  ‘Nobody touches him,’ Dave draws his pistol, pulling Clarence up short with a face of intense shock.

  ‘Dave…Jesus Christ…put that away,’ Paula shouts.

  ‘Put that bow down,’ Dave aims true and straight as Roy makes a motion to take his bow off his shoulder, ‘move out the way now.’

  ‘Hey!’ Lani says sharply, ‘you don’t say that word.’

  ‘What cunts? They are cunts…YOU HEAR ME? YOU FUCKING HEAR ME YOU CUNTS.’

  ‘Stop it, stop it right now and come with me,’ she starts pulling me away, dragging me towards the smashed in wall we drove through.