Z - Arrival / Z - London / Z - Payback: Books 1, 2 & 3 of the Zombie Apocalypse

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Z - Arrival / Z - London / Z - Payback: Books 1, 2 & 3 of the Zombie Apocalypse Page 32

by Hatchett

“I am,” Daniel replied.

  “What?! A fuckin’ tour guide in drag is the boss? You’re havin’ a laugh mate.”

  “I’m the Chief Warder in charge of looking after the place,” Daniel noted, ostensibly to avoid having to identify the real boss, the Constable of the Tower, nor the Governor who looked after the day to day running of the Tower, assuming they were still alive.

  “Well Danny Boy, let’s get started. First, where’s the pisshouse?”

  “There are a number of toilets. The nearest is just inside the Inner Ward. Through that gate,” he indicated the gate under the Bloody Tower.

  “I’m not goin’ through there,” Mamba stated before muttering ‘this’ll have to do’ as he turned and walked towards Traitors Gate and proceeded to urinate in the water. Once he had finished and given his hips a little shake, he returned to where Daniel was sitting.

  “I take it all the fun bits are the other side of that gate?” Mamba indicated the gate under the Bloody Tower.

  “Yes, that is the main entrance to the Inner Ward which houses the shops, restaurants, chapel, jewels, Yeomans bar, et cetera.”

  “Danny Boy, you come with me,” Mamba ordered and turned to Skelly to add, “when I whistle, get them survivors through that gate and tell them to wander around. Close the gate after them.” Mamba pointed to all but seven gang members and ordered them to follow him. He ordered two to go to the Byward Tower to keep guard and the remaining five would stay with Skelly.

  Daniel slowly rose and shook off the stiffness he felt from sitting on the cold floor for too long. As he did so, he whispered to the person next to him to make sure everyone did as they were told. Daniel was forty-five years of age, six feet one inches tall with a broad build and had been a Beefeater for the past seven years. He had black hair, cut very short, and was starting to grey at the temples. He had joined the army at the age of sixteen and had finally found his niche when he reached the rank of Sergeant Major in the Grenadier Guards. Although he was fit and a no-nonsense sort of individual, he recognised that he would need to play along with these thugs to ensure the safety of the civilians and staff within the site and await an opportunity to act.

  “We’re goin’ up to the rampart on the inner wall above the grass area,” Mamba ordered. “You first Danny Boy. Lead the way, man”

  Daniel started to walk towards the steps inside St Thomas’s Tower and found a young man on one side of him and a young girl on the other.

  “I’m Isaac,” said the young man.

  “And I’m Grace,” Grace added.

  Daniel looked at both in turn. He was suspicious of the fact that they had approached him, but his curiosity got the better of him. “What are you two doing with a bunch like this?”

  “No choice man,” Isaac replied. “Join or run, and if you hadn’t noticed, there’s not many places to run to.”

  “A word to the wise,” Grace added. “Mamba may be my uncle, but he’s mad as a hatter so just do as he says, and you won’t get hurt.”

  “Mamba eh? Just like the snake. Thanks for the warning.”

  “Hey, what’re you three talkin’ about?” Mamba shouted from a few yards further back.

  “Just askin’ about his job and the uniform,” Isaac replied without thinking.

  “Why, you want a dress Pinky, is that it?” The men started laughing and Isaac could feel himself burning with embarrassment again. “Can just see you in a dress with some make-up, pretty boy. Might even fuck you myself!” Mamba added to more laughter.

  “Why can’t he just fuckin’ leave me alone?” Isaac whispered under his breath, but his words were picked up and noted by Daniel.

  Grace stopped walking and waited for Mamba to catch up to her. Isaac looked over his shoulder to see what she was up to and could see her having a heated debate with him. Isaac quickly turned back and concentrated on the steps they were about to take up to the ramparts.

  “Sister?” Daniel enquired.

  “Nah man, new girlfriend, although’ I’d have run a fuckin’ mile if I knew she was related to that psycho.”

  “How long have you been together?”

  “This is day three of a life sentence. Don’t get me wrong, I like her, but not her baggage.”

  “I can see your problem,” Daniel empathised.

  “I wish that fucker was dead. Thought about shootin’ him, but if I missed….” Isaac let the sentence trail off.

  Daniel was elated to hear what Isaac was saying; he just hoped it was all true and not some sort of ruse. He would keep things close to his chest until he was absolutely sure.

  “Where are you from?” Daniel asked.

  “Stepney.”

  “So, how did you get here?” Daniel asked baffled, “and why come here?”

  “We used zip wires from buildin’ to buildin’ to avoid the zombies. We came ‘cos our glorious leader, the Judge, wanted himself a castle for some reason.”

  “So, Mamba’s not the real boss?”

  “Nah, he’s one of the lieutenants along with Skelly and Ahmed. The Judge and the rest of them are comin’ tomorrow, although we haven’t worked out how yet.”

  “Can’t they come by zip wire?”

  “The Judge probably could but there’s his missus, the Jury, and she wouldn’t come that way. We’ve also got loads of other older people and women like my Mum who wouldn’t be able to use the zips. So, we have to find a way to get them here.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “They’re all holed up in our buildin’ in Stepney.”

  “Must be a big building to get that many people in it.”

  “It is. It’s a housin’ estate with ten floors and about sixty flats to each floor.” Isaac advised. “We had advance warnin’ through the TV, so it’s all been secured, and most people’s friends and relatives had time to get there before the shit hit the fan.” Daniel quickly calculated that it meant there were six hundred flats, give or take, and assuming two to four people to a flat, there could be anywhere between twelve hundred and twenty-four hundred people there.

  “That’s a lot of people,” Daniel remarked.

  “Yeah, but most will stay there, I think. That’ll be the main base, and this will just be the command centre for the Judge and Jury. They like the idea of superiority and possibly promotion from Judge and Jury to King and Queen.”

  “I may be able to help with transport,” Daniel suggested as they reached the rampart and took the branch towards Wakefield Tower and the inner wall.

  “How’s that?” Isaac asked.

  “We’ve got a couple of armoured trucks which we use on occasion to transport jewels or relics when they’re being shown at museums or being used for State functions. Perhaps you could tell Mamba and get on his good side?”

  “I don’t think he has a good side,” Isaac replied, “but thanks for the help.”

  “No problem. You want to know anything, ask me.”

  “Why are you helpin’?” Isaac asked confused. This was exactly what Daniel wanted to avoid; he didn’t want Isaac getting suspicious of his motives and knew that he had probably asked too many questions already. He wanted to gain Isaac’s trust because he could be of use further down the line.

  “I just want to stay alive,” Daniel replied.

  “Don’t we all?” Isaac queried rhetorically. Daniel sighed inwardly. He had managed to defuse Isaac’s suspicion and knew that he’d have to be more careful in future.

  As they reached Wakefield Tower, Mamba caught up to them with Grace following in his wake. Mamba took the lead, opening the door to the Tower, taking a quick look around before walking through to a door to the right which led to the inner wall rampart.

  Once the group were on the rampart, Mamba ordered his men to line up on the wall. “Now the fun begins,” he advised. “Skelly’s goin’ to shove the survivors through the gate and hopefully this will bring any remaining zombies out. You lot need to shoot the zombies.”

  Grace looked at Mamba in horror. “You’re
goin’ to use those people as bait?”

  “Yep. Ready?” Mamba whistled, and they could hear the gates below being opened and the survivors being pushed into the Inner Ward against their will. They then heard the gates being slammed shut.

  Mamba looked eagerly towards the path to the left of the grass and the still smoking pile of dead zombies. He spotted the first of the survivors and shouted at them to move closer to him. The survivors could see that it made sense as the men with the guns would be above them and have a better chance of hitting targets, so they started to move quickly along the path then doubled-back towards the wall. It didn’t take long for zombies to start appearing, some from directly below Mamba and the men on the rampart.

  “Where the fuck did they come from?” Mamba asked no one in particular.

  “There are many alcoves under this wall,” Daniel explained.

  “You could’ve fuckin’ told us,” Mamba shouted as he pointed his automatic almost vertically down and started shooting, his men following suit.

  A few of the zombies managed to avoid being hit in the head and continued towards the survivors heading in their direction. Such was the panic amongst the survivors that they didn’t notice the zombies until it was too late. Those at the front were taken down, and those behind turned and ran in all directions. Blood spurted into the air and Mamba stopped shooting to watch the spectacle, totally fascinated. His men also ceased firing and the new silence was broken by loud screams.

  “Aren’t you going to shoot them?” Daniel asked, wishing he could do something.

  “Too late for those fuckers,” Mamba responded, his eyes still glued to the scene in front of him. As he watched, the zombies rose and began to follow the other civilians.

  “You still need to kill the zombies and anyone who gets caught,” Daniel insisted.

  Mamba was about to respond, but before he could do so, the door at the top of the steps leading to the White Tower opened and a large number of figures came rushing down them carrying what looked like spears, maces, shields, and swords.

  “Awesome!” Mamba muttered, watching the scene below unfold. “Just like gladiators,” he mused.

  The people leaving the White Tower attacked the zombies in earnest, using their medieval weapons to take them out, some by smashing in heads and others by decapitation. They worked as a team and swiftly removed any remaining threat, including those civilians who had just been attacked. Daniel was pleased to see that the saviours had been his fellow Beefeaters, thankfully having changed out of their uniform. Once they had finished their task, they stood across the lawn looking towards Mamba and the gang but keeping an eye out for any unwanted surprises.

  Mamba was silent for a while, still in awe of the spectacle he had just witnessed. He started clapping and nodding his head in approval.

  “Take your weapons and check the rest of the area; I want it clear of zombies. Then I want everyone from the buildin’s on the lawn, so I can see what we’re dealin’ with.” Daniel nodded imperceptibly, and his fellow Beefeaters did as they were ordered.

  As the Beefeaters went about their business, Mamba turned to Daniel.

  “That was somethin’, eh?”

  “It was something alright,” Daniel agreed, “but we could’ve done it so no one else got killed.”

  “Who cares? Less mouths to feed,” Mamba stated.

  “What are you trying to do?” Daniel asked carefully.

  “Secure the castle for our leader. He’ll be comin’ here tomorrow.”

  Isaac, Grace, Zak, and Nelson wandered over and heard what Mamba had said.

  “Daniel told me they have an armoured truck,” Isaac advised Mamba.

  “Is that so?” Mamba mused. “Looks like we’ll be able to use my plan to drive to Stepney,” Mamba stated, staring straight at Isaac, just waiting to see if he would try to claim it was his idea. Isaac saw the look on Mamba’s face and decided that discretion was the better part of valour and kept quiet.

  “Where’s this truck?” Mamba asked.

  “It’s parked in one of the garages,” Daniel replied. “I can show it to you at any time.”

  “Inner or outer?” Mamba queried.

  “Outer.”

  “It keeps gettin’ betta and betta,” Mamba noted with a satisfied smile. He checked over the wall to see people leaving the various buildings and starting to congregate on the grass, but as far away as possible from the blackened husks of the dead zombies. Mamba waited until he thought that everyone was there. He guessed that there must be at least a couple of hundred people. Just as well it was September he thought to himself as it was bound to be busier in the summer months.

  “You’re all now safe. You will stay in there until tomorrow. If anyone tries to get out, they’ll be shot.”

  As he finished, Skelly and his five men appeared on the rampart. Mamba moved over to him.

  “The gate below is secure,” Skelly advised. “No one is gettin’ through that.”

  “Good work,” Mamba replied. “Sort out guard duties; I want at least ten people on this wall watchin’ those fuckers down there, and if there’s any problem, then shoot them. You also need to share the other guard duties with Ahmed so sort it out with him. I’ll be in the tower at the entrance.”

  “Byward Tower,” Daniel corrected. Mamba looked at him as if deciding whether to thank him or smash him in the face. Thankfully for Daniel, Mamba let the interruption drop.

  “I’ll be in the Byward Tower if you need me,” Mamba reiterated with heavy emphasis on Byward.

  “Ok, leave it to me,” Skelly acknowledged before walking off.

  “You lot come with me,” Mamba ordered those around him.

  16

  Day 3 – 18:30

  Tower of London, Outer Ward

  Mamba, together with twenty of his group plus Daniel, were spread out in the Byward Tower, some eating, some drinking and some talking in smaller groups. A couple of gang members were looking out of the windows at the zombies on the drawbridge and around the Middle Tower at the other end.

  Daniel had advised Mamba that the Warders’ offices were on the second floor together with his own office as Chief Warder. He had taken Mamba, Isaac, and Grace up to show them around and suggested they all go into his office. As they went in Ahmed and Skelly arrived and joined them while other members of the group made themselves comfortable in the other rooms.

  Daniel went to sit behind his desk and opened one of the drawers. Mamba had his pistol pointed at Daniel’s head in a second.

  “It’s ok,” Daniel advised raising his hands, “I don’t have any weapons in here. And, even if I did, there are seven of you, so it would be suicide.” Mamba stared at Daniel then nodded and Daniel slowly reached down into his open drawer and brought out a bottle of whisky. “Thought you might like a drop,” Daniel advised, bringing out some shot glasses. Mamba smiled and sat down opposite the desk, with Ahmed and Skelly taking chairs on either side of him. The other four settled behind them near the wall, out of the way.

  Daniel poured the whisky and passed around the glasses. He did have a gun in the drawer, but it was hidden behind a secret panel and now was certainly not the time to do anything rash. These thugs were complacent and arrogant, and he wanted that to continue until the time was right. Thankfully they hadn’t searched him or his belongings, nor anyone else for that matter. Filling them up with booze might loosen their tongues and he might find out something useful. He continued to make eye contact with Isaac and Grace and, whilst he sensed that they were more on his side than Mamba’s, he couldn’t be certain. They might not like Mamba, but fear was a powerful tool.

  Daniel’s main concern was whether or not to act before the Judge and Jury arrived. Whilst he could hear some of what his fellow beefeaters were up to through his earpiece, he had no way of speaking to them while he had company. Mamba had not let him out of his sight since he had picked him out earlier.

  Mamba had finished his whisky in one and had taken the bottle to refill
his glass. Daniel smiled to himself; he had another few bottles stashed in the room.

  “So, what happens next?” Daniel asked.

  “Tomorrow, we take your truck and go get the boss,” Mamba replied. “Then it’s up to him.”

  Later that night, with the gang members soundly asleep in an alcohol induced slumber, Daniel carefully left his office and headed for the toilet, loud snores following in his wake.

  Once he had locked the door, he stuffed a towel at the base of the door to muffle any sounds then raised his left hand towards his mouth and spoke.

  “Any of you there?”

  Daniel was inundated with ‘Here boss’ before everything went silent again.

  “Listen up. This is the first chance I’ve had to speak without them around. I don’t know how long I’ve got, and if I get cut off, when we’ll be able to speak again. For the time being, play the tourist or Tower worker. I’ve told them I’m the only Warder here. They’re a bit thick, but extremely savage as you have already seen. Don’t do anything stupid, we need to protect people as best we can and see what they intend to do.”

  “We could take them out, boss,” came a suggestion.

  “Yes, we probably could, but it would probably mean a lot of deaths on our side as well. We don’t have their firepower. But, they’re complacent and arrogant, so we will get an opportunity at some point. Tomorrow, they’re going to pick up their boss, it might be an opportunity to take them out, but if they drag me with them, then just keep the peace. You can start stashing items around the place in case we need them.”

  “Got it, boss,” came several replies.

  “By the way, good idea getting out of the uniform. How are the civilians holding up?”

  “As well as can be expected,” came a response from his number two, Rhys Jenkins, a Welshman originally from Tenby in South Wales. “Some are in shock, some have been hysterical, some are calm, some want to fight back. We’ll try and keep them calm and stop them doing anything stupid.”

  “Ok guys, better go. Good luck.”

  With that, Daniel used the toilet before returning to his office to try to get some sleep. He took a long look out of the open window and felt a sense of dread at what he could see, or what he couldn’t. London was bathed in darkness, save for the reflection of a Full Moon coming off some buildings and the river. It was eerie to see no lights anywhere, especially along the embankment which was usually lit up like a fairground. There were no boats on the river, no cars or buses moving along the roads and none of the usual sounds of a busy capital city which never slept. All he could hear, apart from the snoring coming from Mamba and the others behind him, was the constant and jarring undertone of the zombies moving about below him in the dark, the grunts and the chattering or teeth. At that point he felt very lonely and wondered if there was anything to look forward to.

 

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