by RR Haywood
‘forty five survivors?’ I ask in shock.
‘Children, and er…some not so able bodied too.’
‘Cock it. Fucking day just gets better. Right, we’ll do what we can. Fuck, they’re making a pyramid,’ I say leaning out to look down again, ‘clever fuckers.’
‘WE’RE THROUGH…’
I run from the window into the hallway to see Clarence coated in a film of dust that hangs heavy in the air and a big ragged hole beaten through the brick and plaster into the hallway of the next building.
‘Fall back,’ I shout, ‘Blowers, bring up the rear with the…’
‘Oh god why did you say that?’ Clarence groans as Paula shakes her head at me and even Dave turns to offer me what is probably a withering glance for him.
Silence. Nothing. I lift my eyebrows thinking we got away with it until Cookey appears in the doorway grinning like a Cheshire cat, ‘did you really just say that?’
‘Well done,’ Paula tuts at me.
‘Boss,’ Blowers says disappointedly walking past almost bouncing on the spot with happiness.
‘Cookey,’ I say fixing him with a glare, ‘we’re busy okay? Very busy.’
‘Yep.’
‘I know what I just said but…’
‘Yep. Blowers bringing up the rear.’
‘Yes I said that but…’
‘You said,’ he says adopting a quick thoughtful pose, ‘that Blowers likes it up the rear.’
‘Oh god, no I did not say that.’
‘Oh okay, you said Blowers likes bringing it up the rear?’
‘Almost at the top,’ Nick shouts, ‘and did you really have to say that? He’ll be going all fucking day now.’
‘Fucking yes I will,’ Cookey announces promptly and proudly, ‘Mr Howie said it so I can use it…for ever and ever and ever…not even Dave can tell me off.’
‘Ooh pushing it,’ Marcy winces, ‘bit excited, Cookey.’
‘Blowers pushes it. When he’s doing it in the rear.’
‘Fucking hell,’ I groan, ‘sorry, Blowers.’
‘Look can we stop pissing about now?’ Paula snaps.
‘Blowers likes pissing…’
‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ Blowers sags on the spot.
‘When he’s at the rear.’
‘Right enough, say it as we go,’ I say, ‘Clarence, you go through first. Blowers…er…’
‘Yes, Mr Howie?’ Cookey asks.
‘Not you, Blowers…actually. Fucking give that gun to Cookey.’
‘Eh?’ Cookey says stepping away.
‘That’s an order. Cookey take that machine gun and bring up the rear.’
‘No…Blowers does the rear…’
‘Haha fuckhead,’ Blowers nods smugly pushing the heavy gun into Cookey’s arms.
‘Touché,’ Marcy says, ‘nice touch there, Mr Howie.’
‘Since when did you call me Mr Howie?’
‘When you do smart things.’
‘Not very often then,’ Paula mutters then smiles sweetly, ‘we’d better go…everyone through that hole,’ she says urging the still cowering people to get through after Clarence.
‘Dave, keep an eye on the back and stairwells.’
‘Yes, Mr Howie.’
‘GO GO,’ Nick, Mo, Charlie and Roy all shout running walking backwards from the room firing their weapons at the window now out of sight.
I hold off waiting for everyone else to get through and sling my rifle to my back and tug the axe free, ‘Cookey, get into the next flat and be ready to fire when Dave and I drop through.’
‘On it,’ he snaps into work mode running past me.
‘Charlie first…’ I shout and pull her back to guide through the hole, ‘get some water while you can. Mo, you next…get through and get some water, Mo. Roy, you next…get a drink…’
‘Yes I heard you thank you.’
‘Nick…ready? Run straight through me and Dave…one…two….THREE…’
He turns and runs full on across the hallway and through the hole as Dave steps smartly in front of me with a knife in each hand.
‘You go through, Mr Howie.’
‘Fuck that, mate,’ I say stepping in beside him, ‘budge over a bit you’re taking all the room up.’
‘I can go in there,’ he says pointing a knife at the front room.
‘No because then none will get through to me.’
‘I can let some get through.’
‘You cheeky fucker,’ I say then come to focus as the doorway fills with the charging infected pouring up and over the pyramid and into the room. I nudge Dave over and step in front closest to the doorway and meet them head on with the axe swishing up to drive through the groin of a female undead that gets battered back into her comrades behind. Adjusting my grip I get ready for the next one and get yanked back by a hand pulling on my belt as Dave steps in front and takes the next two down with frenetic speed.
I stand stunned for a second not believing that just happened. Dave pulled me back so he could get in front but not angry or trying to protect me. It was play. Dave just played a trick.
‘DAVE STAIRWELL,’ I shout mustering some panic into my voice and instantly he leaps round towards the stairs as I take his place and slam my axe into the undead coming through cleaving down through his skull that bursts apart. I fight gloating and feeling smug at outwitting him and keep the doorway clear but they’re building in numbers on the other side as more come through that window. The longer we can hold them here the more time Clarence has to beat through the next wall.
‘Mr Howie…Marcy has taken her clothes off…’
‘Eh?’ I step back turning then cursing a second later when Dave glides past me, ‘oh you sneaky shit.’
He holds position swishing his arms back and forth and spinning on the spot to gain greater momentum. Heavy thuds in my ears but not from Clarence beating the next wall down but coming from the door at the bottom of the stairs as a concerted effort is made to force it open but the heavy duty bar and bolts do their job.
I look round trying to think of what to say or use to get in front of Dave then grinning mischievously. I go through the hole to see Cookey lying prone with the GPMG aimed towards me and him grinning at our antics. I grin back and step to the side of the hole, ‘Dave, we’re falling back. Dave…seriously we’re falling back…’
He turns quickly seeing the hallway behind him now empty and through the hole to Cookey ready with the GPMG.
‘MR HOWIE?’ He shouts running through the hole towards Cookey.
I time it just right and wait for the first infected to come barrelling across the hallway and through the hole before I strike hard with a blade deep in his belly that severs him almost in two. I kick him back and step out to cover the hole as Dave stops and stares back at me.
‘Howie, you’re needed,’ Marcy’s voice in my ear.
‘Dave, did you make her say that?’
‘No.’
‘Promise?’
‘Yes, Mr Howie.’
‘Coming, all yours,’ I say first to Marcy then to Dave and break to run across the hallway and into the door to the apartment on the other side and Cookey on the floor, ‘how’s the rear?’ I ask quickly.
‘Not funny,’ he mumbles.’
‘What’s up? Shit!’ I come to a stop in the main room so full of people. ‘How many?’
‘Eight from the first building and another seven in here,’ Marcy says.
‘Mr Howie, they’re already…’ Roy starts to say.
‘Mr Howie, it’s Reginald. Are you aware they are now building the climbing bases beneath every window?’
‘Yep, got it,’ I say into my shirt, ‘Roy, is that what you were going to say?’
‘Yes, they’re fast,’ he says profoundly, too profoundly and it sends a ripple of silence through the room.
‘We’ll be fine,’ Marcy says working quickly to recover the moment, ‘nothing we can’t handle, right lads?’
‘Reginald, have you been
told how many we’ve got?’
‘Not yet, Mr Howie.’
‘Approximately forty five. We’ve got fifteen with us already. We’re in the second building.’
‘That is understood.’
‘We’ll need a vehicle to load them into…a bus or a coach…see if you can find one.’
‘I will do my best, Mr Howie and will add that to my ever growing list of things to do.’
‘Sorry, Reginald. Listen, can one of us get to the Saxon?’
‘No. Absolutely not.’
‘We’ve got to clear those bases away before they get through…’ I pull my hand away from my shirt and listen to the thuds of Clarence beating the next wall down while feeling like we’re about to get trapped.
*
With the team safely through the door and Neal recovering himself enough to apply thought to the problem at hand they start examining the ordnance survey maps of the town.
‘What are we looking for?’ Neal asks.
‘A way out,’ Reginald replies. ‘A route we can take them down. Preferably a route that is narrow at points…’
‘To create a bottleneck right?’
‘That is correct. A pinch point greatly aids their ability to cull the numbers but we must also be mindful of the other player flanking them.’
‘Other player?’ Neal asks abruptly.
‘What? Oh gosh, forgive me. It’s my terminology. I was fretful you see and I felt that if I treated it like a game of wits it took some of the pressure away.’
‘I see,’ Neal says politely, ‘that does make sense. You say you were fretful?’
‘Oh very.’
‘Me too.’
‘Really?’
‘Terrified if I may be so honest,’ Neal admits.
‘You may be honest and I too was most terrified,’ Reginald says glancing at the scientist and starting to recognise a kindred spirit. ‘Do you know how to read a map?’
‘Yes I do,’ Neal says recovering some pride.
Reginald nods about to say something then stopping at the sound of slurping and sucking coming from outside.
‘Oh my horse,’ Neal says getting to his feet, ‘I do apologise, I left Jess without a thought.’
He rushes outside and over to Jess drinking water from the big bowl left for Meredith and works quickly to untie the straps and strips to lift the saddle and bridle free. A case of water left on the ground when the Saxon went off and he pulls a bottle free, twists the cap off and pours the contents over her broad back using his bare hand to sluice the sweat and grime away. More bottles get emptied into the bowl and yet more poured down her flanks, legs and neck. She seems content enough to stand in the shade drinking water.
‘Sorry about that,’ Neal says getting back into the van and chastising himself for leaving his assault rifle propped against the side of the desk.
‘Of course,’ Reginald says politely, ‘I may have identified a suitable route, or at least the start of one,’ he adds glancing up to the screen and reaching out to push the stick of the drone back up to increase the height for a couple of minutes allowing him to focus on the maps.
‘Oh right,’ Neal says pulling his chair into the desk and looking down at the map.
‘Here is the last building,’ Reginald says tapping a grey square section on the map, ‘this is the square,’ he motions to the black line marking the edges of the public square. ‘There is a service road at the rear that runs this direction through these streets which appear narrow on the map until we reach this large building here and given the layout I can only think this must be a supermarket and these marking here are for the petrol station…are you okay?’
‘My god can you see that?’ Neal asks having glanced up at the screen and now unable to remove his eyes. ‘What are they doing?’
‘Oh gosh, they’re building bases to climb up…see they’re already through the first window and will get through the others very shortly.’ He reaches for the radio thumbing the switch on the side as he brings it to his mouth. ‘Mr Howie, it’s Reginald. Are you aware they are now building the climbing bases beneath every window?’
‘Yep, got it.’
‘What will they do?’ Neal asks in a whisper.
‘I do not know,’ Reginald says trying to think.
‘Reginald, have you been told how many we’ve got?’
‘Not yet, Mr Howie.’
‘Approximately forty five. We’ve got fifteen with us already. We’re in the second building.’
‘That is understood.’
‘We’ll need a vehicle to load them into…a bus or a coach…see if you can find one.’
‘I will do my best, Mr Howie and will add that to my ever growing list of things to do.’
‘Sorry, Reginald. Listen, can one of us get to the Saxon?’
‘No. Absolutely not.’
‘We’ve got to clear those bases away before they get through…’
‘What’s the Saxon?’ Neal asks trying to keep up with the frantic turn of events.
‘The army vehicle,’ Reginald mutters staring at the screen, ‘there must be a way to clear them away from that building line but they cannot get out to the Saxon.
‘What about this vehicle?’
‘Good Lord are you crazy! We cannot go into that square. We wouldn’t last two minutes and this vehicle is not heavy enough. No, there must be another solution.’
‘They will be through those windows in minutes,’ Neal says watching the human mounds growing steadily as more climb up and fling themselves down and trying to swallow the shock of every single thing he is seeing. ‘These people must survive.’
‘That is what Mr Howie is trying to do but we must clear those bases or suggest a way for them to be cleared.’
‘No you do no understand. Mr Howie and your group must survive. The ones that are immune anyway. They have to survive.’
‘I told you they are all immune.’
‘No, you said they are probably all immune.’
‘They are immune. We do not have time to explain and go through it but please be assured I have calculated that they are all most likely holding immunity.’
‘Then they must all survive. You have to order them to get out.’
‘My dear chap. Do you think for one second that I could give such an order and it be obeyed? You do not know these people. They do not listen.’
‘My friend, the infected hosts will get through those windows very soon. We cannot allow so many immune people to perish in this way…not in anyway…I do not comprehend how so many immune are together but those reasons can be gained later when it safe to do so but for now we must assist them in any way we can.’
‘I understand and that is what we are doing. Now think of a way to clear those bases away from the windows.’
‘They must be driven at in the same manner they did before.’
‘We do not have a vehicle heavy enough for that task,’ Reginald counters.
‘What do we have? We need something that will propel them away, weaken the base, knock it aside…’
‘I understand that,’ Reginald says again, ‘but short of having a water cannon which are banned on UK soil then I do not know what we can suggest.’
‘Water cannon, is there a fire station?’
‘Good Lord,’ Reginald balks slightly offended that this strange man made the connection and the suggestion before he did. ‘Well yes, there is a fire station that I am sure holds appliances but it is down the end of the High Street therefore completely beyond reach of even their fastest runners.’
‘Then we must go,’ Neal says rising to his feet.’
‘What? Are you mad? I do not know how to use a fire engine and…and besides, they haven’t been used for eighteen days so the batteries will be flat and…’
‘No,’ Neal scoffs, ‘they maintain their vehicles to a very high standard. We must go. We must clear those bases.’
‘I…No…Please we cannot…’
‘I am scared,’ Ne
al says quickly, ‘scared out of my wits but I know those people must be saved. We must help them. We have to go right now. Shall I drive and you operate the drone? Jess will be fine here, she can rest. Does that door lead into the front?’
Reginald gibbers and balks at the idea but also knowing there isn’t another suggestion or idea in his mind. Mr Howie and his team have been brave enough to go into that enemy knowing what risks were against them and this man is right, several of them are immune and most likely all of them. They must be protected or at least assisted to whatever tiny amount can be given.
Any suitable time for forming a valid argument evaporates as Neal rushed to slam the back doors closed and crosses past the desk towards the front while Reginald rushes to secure the maps and controllers.
Neal gets into the front and after a brief examination of the control he gains the understanding that this is just an ordinary van. He starts the engine dreading the thought of going anywhere near that square but also knowing what the costs would be if so many immune were killed. He is not a brave man and clearly Reginald is not either but together they must do what they can.
As the van pulls away so Jess lifts her head and watches. Content in the shade to rest for a few minutes and her body temperature is working down from the cooling water poured over her body. This day has been hard going but the pull is so strong it cannot be ignored. The pull to keep moving and follow that scent and that feeling. It is intrinsic and organic. She is intelligent but lacks conscious thought so she simply gives into the pull and sets off in a gentle trot after the van and down the track towards the main road that leads to the town.
*
Clarence slams the head into the wall again and again. His huge shoulders bunching and exploding with energy while the sweat pours down his face stinging his eyes.
‘Head down,’ Marcy says pulling him round to pour a bottle of cold water over the top of his bald head. She wipes the sweat from his eyes quickly and efficiently. ‘Want Nick or Roy to take over?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Go then,’ she steps back and away from the hammer being slammed again into the wall and the sounds of bricks tumbling the other side but it’s hard going. Old houses built strong when only the best materials and workmanship were used with thick blocks to deaden the noise transference.