World Down: A Zombie Novel

by Walker, Callum Bennington Goldworth

  An old house lay further away from the main road. We entered the cul-de-sac where the house lay a short distance on and parked up quietly.

  At the front porch was a swinging bench, and on it was a girl with blonde hair. She turned and ran inside at our arrival.

  “They know we're here,” I spoke softly as we all stepped foot outside the car.

  I hung back with Mike and Lily, thinking it was better for Jess and Gareth to greet their friend first. I didn't remember much about Susie's family, only that her mother left her when she was very little. Rumours were wide and wild of her disappearance, of how she fled to South America and married a supposed mafia boss, if you believe such gossip like that. She was seen as an idol, something to aspire to, for all the other old women of Jess’s old school, no doubt fleeing the country with a hot rich foreigner was every middle-aged woman's dream.

  Coming out the front door, wearily, Susie stepped forth. She was in knee high boots and carrying a bucket of water.

  “Jess? Gareth?” I heard her say before she hugged them. “I've missed you!”

  “Me too,” Jess said.

  “Is that your dad?” She then asked in a hushed voice, looking over their shoulder to me.

  “Hi, Mr. Lively!” She shouted over to me. “You should all come inside, I don't like being out on the road,” she said then, taking Jess by the hand.

  “Come on, Lily, Mike,” I said holding their hands. I locked the car and made my way to the great house. At the porch, Susie's father waited. Or I presumed it was her father, it could have been her uncle, heck it could have even been her grandfather. He had a grey short beard and grey hair, he looked mean as hell too. He allowed Jess and Gareth inside ahead of us, as Susie went in with them.

  Above us in the window, the blonde girl watched on.

  “Come, get the children inside,” said the man at the porch.

  “Mr. Davies, I cannot express how fortunate we are to be here,” I said gesturing to the children to go inside. I extended my hand to shake hands, but he neglected to move his, instead snarling at my attempt.

  “I'd rather not, with all things considered.”

  “Ah,” I laughed a fake laugh. “What do you want to do, elbow bump?” I japed in a bad manner. He gave me a cold look in response, then locked the front door behind me.

  “You got a temperature, Mr Lively?” He asked me.

  “No,” I gulped and told him, and he seemed to relax after I said that.

  I looked to Jess and her friends in the living room. “Don’t wander off guys,” I said.

  “Call me Terrance. Where is your wife, if I may ask?” Mr Davies inquired, leading the way inside his home.

  “She's gone,” I answered solemnly, closing the front door as I did.

  “Oh, I'm terribly sorry,” he said.

  “She-she's not dead,” I scrambled my words to tell him. We arrived at a library inside what appeared to be his study. UFO bible books were on the wall, conspiracy theories and political books as well. I had stumbled across a bit of a nutjob here, I thought in the back of my mind.

  “Argh,” he poured a glass of scotch. “Please sit. Drink?”

  “No thank you,” I said sitting down in one of his great study chairs.

  “Listen, do you know anything, about what's happening?” He asked me.

  “Not a lot really, hardly anything at all, I left home two days ago, since then we’ve just had the car radio. What have you heard?”

  “Nothing much, the TV kept showing live footage from the riots, then it went off yesterday. The only TV on is repeats of old comedies and whatnot, the news channels are gone. No signal. I can't find anything online. I'm hopeless with technology. Susie helps me with it.”

  “What do you mean? About the TV?” I asked.

  “It was just the prime minister's press conferences, they were some yobbos tearing down the war memorial, setting the union jack on fire. Idiots attacking good police officers,” he said in a grumpy old man's voice.

  “Hey, they're evacuating London! Did you know?” I told him.

  “Yeah, they kept yapping on about it before it went down, sounds surreal. Back in my day, I was born five years too late to see the world war, but we had rations and whatnot for decades after, and no one batted an eyelid, they mention it once on the news, and all hell breaks loose. They wouldn't last a second in my day I tell you,” he bemoaned.

  “What is it then? You reckon. This illness that is spreading?” I asked him, as he seemed to want to contrive elaborate plots and conspiracies, judging by his library collection.

  “It's like, I don't know,” he sighed, as if he was out of breath. “I just don't know.”

  He drank his scotch from his glass as the room fell silent. I could hear Jess and her friends upstairs walking around, the house creaked, so old it was.

  “It's like something out of the bible,” I spoke, seeing an orthodox bible on the shelf.

  “Ha!” The old man laughed.

  “You mean this, old thing?” He raised a normal English bible that had been leaning against the side of his chair. Then pointed to it with his other hand to make a point.

  “There were gods before this was written, I don't believe everything is biblical.”

  I nodded, that was probably true.

  “Do you mind if we stay here for a while? Until things are better, our neighbourhood is infested,” I said, daringly. This place looked safe. I was just desperate, and I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Perhaps that was just because I was starving.

  “And you want to stay here?” His eyes lit up.

  “Please, I'm begging you,” I lifted myself off the chair and kneeled, holding my hands in a beggar’s position. This wasn’t just for me, but Lily and Jess as well. Here looked safe, here was safe.

  He glanced around the room, as if weighing up his possessions. “Fine,” he then spoke in an agitated manner. “But don't jeopardise my daughter.”

  “I would never,” I said rising up.

  “I see you have a young boy and girl with you, you look after them like you look after my Susie, I'm not long for this world,” he mumbled. “I'm scared of this thing,” he said looking to his old photos of his youth.

  He wanted me to care for his daughter, but what of his other daughter, the girl with blonde hair?

  “Your daughter is not my responsibility,” I said to him.

  “She will be if you stay under this roof tonight, sir,” he angrily stated. “Fine, you can leave my house,” he threatened.

  I wanted to stand up and demand my family's safety, to take his home to safeguard them, to mock him right now and take all that we needed. He could hardly stand and talk without gasping for air, who would he call if I took the home for myself, the police? The army? The government?

  “I promise,” I said, slyly, but he didn't seem to notice. What was I thinking? Of course, I can't do this to this innocent old man and his daughters. What was wrong with me? It was this disease, this affliction, it had spread to my brain. I must continue to keep it a secret, from him, lest he kick us all out.

  “I promise I will do everything to keep them all safe,” I said, but I didn't say that I would keep him safe. I am a man of my word.

  “Then I have your word, Mr. Lively,” he spoke in a cocky midlands voice. “There are two spare rooms with two beds on the second floor. Settle between yourselves who sleeps where.”

  “Thank you.”

  He groaned as he got up. I was left in his study, alone, staring at the empty glass he had drank from. I took a walk around the gardens in the immediate aftermath of our conversation, the back door was open so I had a gander outside. They had a dog and a cat near the barn, it reminded me of our cat and how we’d left him without a second thought. Poor thing.

  I spent the next hour or so in the garden, watching the fences and admiring the fields. It was beautiful. There was no noise, no pollution. Just nature and the wet smell of grass and flowers. Oh, the flowers, they smelled of Sarah'
s perfume. I didn’t realise how much I missed her.

  Seeing dark clouds of rain on the horizon, drifting across the sky slowly, inevitably, I knew she was in danger. The world was not right, even in this picturesque landscape.

  “Dad,” spoke a voice from behind me. It was Jess, and I was sitting on the garden bench now. How did I get here?

  “Somethings not right with Gareth,” she said, as rain started to fall around us.

  “Not now Jess,” I said, but she persisted.

  “I think he killed his parents.”

  Thunder rumbled in the distance after she spoke.

  “What?” I asked after a moment of thought.

  “I'm not sure, I don't know for certain.”

  I stood up, as another crack of light flashed and daggered in the distance, then a rumble dragged across the sky. I did not know how to respond, why would she think such a thing?

  “Ok, I will speak to him,” I said, dazed. It was this infection; I was not thinking straight.

  “I don't think you should,” said Jess.

  “Why not?” I asked strongly, too strongly. I didn't realise it.

  “He's dangerous,” she whimpered.

  I looked at her, then smiled at the thought that some stupid kid was dangerous to me.

  “Go look after your sister, we have the two rooms on the second floor, your friend will know,” I told her. She gave me an unsure look, then retreated inside to avoid the rain. I followed her soon after, but before I did, I caught a glance of the blonde girl above us in the window. She was Susie's age I reckoned.

  The house was old, not ancient but old. Early 20th century I reckoned. There was a padlock on the fridges in the kitchen. Mr. Davies must have left them there to stop us stealing from him. I walked up the crooked stairs, one broken step at a time. It creaked and cracked. When I reached the top, I discovered the door to a room half open. The girl was there. I had to see her. My shoulder pulsed, the bite, it weakened me. I found her inside the room, it was a spare room, and she cowered in the corner.

  “Hello,” I spoke, quietly. She looked disgusted by me.

  “Do you speak English?” I asked, as a joke, but then she didn't answer, and I started to believe she really didn't know.

  I heard someone coming up the stairs, it was not hard to hear. I scrambled away and onto the landing of the second floor to avoid being seen.

  “That's not your room, Mr. Lively,” said Davies, staring right at me. I nodded and moved away.

  “Just trying to find my way around,” I told him.

  He gave me another cold look. “Your children have managed to find the right rooms,” he said as he walked by, and as I heard the loud laughter of Lily coming from down the corridor.

  “Do not come to the third floor, that is my space,” he informed us, then went right by my wide-eyed stance and into the blonde girls room, shutting it harshly.

  That was strange, I thought to myself. I stood to the window, staring blankly at the rain. I thought about Blake, I prayed he was safe. My mind wandered to Susie's father, and bad thoughts flowed. The devil on my shoulder spoke. Why not take the house, have things my way?

  I do not believe for one second that Gareth would kill his parents. He is too meek, all talk and no action behind closed doors and closets, and in the open he has all the characteristics of a shy meek child. He could help me take the house from the old man. What little food we have cannot go to dying mouths like his. How will I convince the others? I'll ask them a simple thing. Who would care to question, if the virus took the man overnight?

  The Apocalypse - Day 9 - Blake

  The sounds of gunfire rattled in the distance, closer to the city outskirts. We were on the perimeter fence of the airport, in the park area. We'd got The Princess and the other jeep, just our two fireteams on patrol, to guard the greenery to the north. The regiment was spread thin across the midlands, and my mother was in the airport somewhere. I needed to get her back, I needed to find them all. I regretted my decision to come here now. It was nothing but foolishness. I wanted to be with them again. My dad, my mom, my sisters. This was not filling me with pride as I thought it would, it was breaking me.

  James and Jake had met their parents inside the airport, they were working as air traffic controllers, I could see them hugging and crying from outside the building. It made me want my family even more. Thomas saw his mom; she was rationing food to others and gave him twice his designated portions. It was corruption from love.

  When I looked for my mother, inside the makeshift medical facility, they turned me away. No entrance. It made me worry, was she ok? Were they hiding her body? My mind raced with paranoia; I had always struggled with it. I just wanted to see her, but they said if I did, I’d have to stay there.

  It was evening of the ninth day since I first heard reports of the attacks of the infected. Nine bloody days, nine terrible days. My family were scattered and possibly in danger, and where was I? Guard duty for this pig of a prime minister. His flight was delayed. He was fleeing from London, his capital city, like a coward.

  “I ever tell you the story about Colonel Custer?” James asked as we sat around a fire near the fence.

  “Colonel who?” Hussain said.

  “Custer. Famous American general,” James said. “You know what he said when the native Indians came down on him? All fifty thousand of them?”

  “What?” I asked, in a depressed tone.

  “When they were all rising up to him. Thousands of them as far as the eye could see,” he said. “His last words were, fuck me!”

  He laughed, and so did Mason and Jacob. I smiled a subtle smile, even if I was sad, I could still show happiness.

  “That's funny,” Hussain said.

  “That ain't nothing, I got more, you ever hear the joke about the 3 pigs-”

  “Guys. It's here!” Shouted Jake from above the second jeep. He was standing above us. We all stood, not having seen a plane in days. A blip of light flashed in the distance; it was here! It really was here!

  We slowly made our way to higher ground where the jeeps were parked. But something was terribly wrong. The plane was so bright. It was coming for us, so bright and light in the dark of night.

  “What is that?” I said squinting my eyes.

  “Look!” Mason shouted, pointing to the bright lights in the sky. Falling from the larger bright light.

  “Somethings wrong,” I said in despair. I walked backwards, looking to the phenomenon in the distance. Climbing upon the ladder at the back of the jeep, I went to join Jake and Thomas at the top.

  “What?” Said Hussain. He had bad eyesight and couldn't see right.

  “I don't know,” said Jacob in fear. It got closer and closer, larger and brighter. I had a horrible feeling of hopelessness in the pit of my stomach that grew and totally consumed me. It was fire in the sky, with wings like a phoenix burning, only it was not rising, it was falling with great speed.

  “Jesus,” spoke Mason, actual fear in his voice I heard for the first time in my life. It was a glimpse of real emotion from him as the fiery light reflected in his eyes.

  “Oh my god,” Thomas muttered as it flew over us. The plane carrying the prime minister was a raging inferno, something had happened on board. We gazed up in wonderment at the blazing sky and the debris that flew past us. All we could do was watch and wait thinking of the dread of all the people on board.

  “Shit!” James shouted, but it could not be heard clearly over the sound of the colossal explosion. The humungous plane crashing into the runway, blowing the control tower from its hill, erasing the camp, the medic post, four terminals and smashing through the vast car park where countless body bags lay.

  The ground rumbled as if an earthquake had struck it. And then the loudest, most destructive sound I had ever heard in my life assaulted my ears, as a mushroom like cloud blew outwards and an insane shockwave blew me back. I almost fell off the side of the jeep, but clung on as the silhouette of my disparaging squad mates co
uld be seen on the other jeep, the fire blazed ahead of us higher and taller than any fire I’d ever seen in my entire life. I jumped down after mere seconds of the wave, disbelief and shock upon everyone's faces. My mom was there, oh god…

  “Jesus fucking Christ!” I heard Mason scream.

  “What the hell are we going to do now?” Jacob shouted.

  It was like the apocalypse was before my eyes. All the people at HQ, gone, wiped out like that…

  “James! James!” Thomas called as James marched to the driver’s seat of the other jeep.

  “Jake,” Hussain comforted Jake. He was crouching down on his knees in the grass, crying.

  “You can't leave this position,” ordered Thomas. “We were given an order.”

  “Look at that mess. Crashed right into the control tower. That's HQ. That's the FUCKING field general,” Mason said, compounding the situation.

  “My parents’ man,” James said emotionally to Thomas.

  “You don't know for certain,” Thomas shook his head at him, but he knew it himself, we all did. Everyone in that direction was burning.

  “I'm not waiting here in the cold dark to find out,” James spoke firmly. “You coming?”

  “Yeah,” Thomas whispered after a moment, nodding his head erratically. He gestured for us to load up, and we did. We drove along the airport fence, to the heat of the fires. It was midnight, and hell lay before me. Fire trucks raced away, past us, ignoring pedestrians in the street who clambered away from the road. The checkpoint to the airport car park was manned by two soldiers, there were fifteen here when we left early tonight. They had gone to help rescue survivors, or fled in the night.

  The flames reached so high, and they burned red with heat. Thomas parked the jeep beside a convoy of arriving fire trucks, then ran out to the fire. Airport personnel scattered about, some carried water, others frantically ran to save blood bags from the ruins of the collapsing medical facility. Many helped pull the fresh dead from the wreckage. The prime minister was dead, everyone on the plane, in the control tower, the medic post and the four hit terminals were dead. I looked to what remained of them, they were supposed to be havens of safety full of families, now they were scorching pits of doomed screams.