“You are lifesavers!” Oliver beamed as he cheered for his saviors.
Harry shook his wet hair off his collar, hating how it stuck to him. “Great thinking there. We make quite the team.” He smiled over his shoulder at Isabella.
Isabella grinned back. She hadn’t anticipated the plan to work. “Of course, we make a fantastic team!”
They began pedaling towards the end of the road when Harry’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He fumbled to retrieve the phone while pedaling in the rain. He looked down at the screen to see George’s caller ID flashing.
Harry balanced the phone on his shoulder as he pedaled. “George, we’re on our way!” he panted. Talking and cycling wasn’t his strong suit.
“Please hurry!” he cried into the phone. “I swear… If I make it out of this alive… I’m going to get the biggest walnut whip ever.”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh. It was typical of George to think about his stomach during a crisis. It’s what made him so likeable. The line crackled and popped, and Harry could hear the zombies grunting and snarling from the other side of the phone. He knew they had to hurry. George was in real trouble.
“We’ll be there soon. Just hold on!” Harry said before hanging up and shoving the phone back in his pocket. He needed to push harder, and he couldn’t afford the distraction.
Harry moved as fast as he could, ignoring his discomfort as he focused entirely on getting to George.
The road to the park was full of twists and turns, and they had to cycle through Main Street, one of the busiest streets in the city. On a typical Sunday, the shops would be full of customers. The numerous pubs offered cheap beer and fresh fish and chips, and the street was always full of different types of people.
Harry hoped all the people would be inside like the TV reporter had advised because they couldn’t afford any delay.
Isabella saw a large figure making his way towards them. The zombie had a long white beard and wore a golf hat perched on his large head. He carried a long cane that had once helped him walk. The old man zombie was slower than the others, but still fast enough. Isabella gripped the soggy newspaper tightly. She patiently waited for the perfect moment to attack the old man zombie closing in on them.
“Harry, pedal faster!” she called to Harry, hoping they could pick up enough speed to outrun the zombie grandad.
Harry gritted his teeth and pushed harder, forcing his tired legs into motion. “I am going faster!” he whined. Oliver, Harry, and Isabella turned the dreaded corner onto Main Street, and the busy street wasn’t filled with people milling about—but it was filled with zombies.
Oliver gasped. His fast bike could more than likely make the ride down Main Street, but the large number of zombies made it a deathly maze from one end to the other.
“Fuck,” Oliver quietly cursed into the rainy scene in front of him.
Isabella giggled with joy as the old man zombie faded from view just as they were turning the corner to Main Street. “Harry, we lost him!”
The color drained from all their faces face as they took in the hordes of zombies in front of them. Each of them now wished they hadn’t been so adamantly against living people being on the street.
“Oh fuck,” Harry said, halting his bike beside Oliver.
Oliver looked nervously at his friend. “Now what?”
Harry shrugged, unsure of what to do. “Did you bring that spade?” he asked Oliver.
Oliver looked at his friend incredulously. The long-handled spade was precariously balanced on the side of Oliver’s bike, and the flimsy straps were barely holding it in place.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Isabella asked eagerly.
Harry nodded slowly. “Probably…” he nervously looked at Oliver. “Hopefully,” he finished.
Oliver removed the spade from the side of his bike, and Harry positioned it on the front of his own so the harsh spike at the end was pointing towards the crowd.
Oliver smiled. “Oh, I know what you’re doing now!”
Harry took a deep breath, hoping his plan would work.
Chapter Ten
The airport bustled with frightened people as the slow-moving zombie horde crawled across the floor. A tall zombie wore a tight, lopsided airport uniform, and his ID tag swayed as he dragged himself with the crowd. Harrison growled as he walked by, and the zombie didn’t even notice him as he went.
“Perfect. Lots and lots of zombies,” he mumbled heavily, his voice raspy and low. “There is no fucking way I can take out all these fucking shitholes.”
Lena watched the zombies as they moved. “You’re right.” She paused as she looked over at Barry, hoping he had a plausible plan. “Barry, got any ideas?”
He paused, deep in thought as he took in everything around him. His experience making video games was ready to be used in real life. He’d made countless designs for run of the mill weapons for his game characters.
“Barry?” Lena repeated slightly louder.
He was silent, his brain working overtime. The weapons he could make out of ordinary things in the airport were limited only to his imagination.
He could see the stores close by bursting with useful equipment. The luggage store had suitcases of all shapes and sizes, some with a solid hard shell while others had heavy wheels. A rack close to the counter was stacked full of nail manicure kits.
Barry could see a bin full of different sized umbrellas and long walking canes. Some of the canes were designed for ice and had small, sharp grips on the end. The zombies had no hope against Barry and his insane ideas for weapons.
Lena could see the wheels turning in Barry’s mind. He was focused on the stores in the airport, and she knew he was formulating a plan—she was just afraid of what that plan might be. “BARRY!” she yelled quietly as she roughly tapped him on the arm, catching his attention. She wanted to scream at him but knew any loud noise would bring the undead their way.
He turned to her excitedly. “I have a plan!” he said, smiling. He pointed at the stores. “We’re going to make weapons!”
Lena raised her eyebrows at him. “Weapons?” she asked.
Barry nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes. You’ll see. Let’s go!” He said with the excitement of a child all over his face.
Harrison, Emily, and Lena watched as Barry rushed across the smooth airport floor towards the luggage store. Harrison shrugged and followed Barry to protect him from any meandering zombies. Lena quickly followed behind. She could see uniformed zombies leading regular zombies. It looked like a tour group gone wrong. The airport staff zombies led the lollygagging civilian zombies to the fresh meat waiting nervously in the main terminal.
Emily tried to stop Harrison and Lena from going, fearing the noise would alert the zombies and attract them to the unarmed team. “Wait! You can’t just…” she helplessly and quietly called after them. “You can’t just leave…”
Beth tugged at Emily’s arm. “What are you going to do now?” she asked eagerly.
Emily shifted from one foot to the other. The high heels had started to hurt her even more. She had gone longer periods of time while wearing them, but she had never had to fight an angry haggle of passengers and zombies before. “I don’t know.”
Barry skidded into the store, and a zombie shifted his gaze on Barry. He had hoped to avoid the enemy, but the zombie had detected his scent. The short, fat, and slow zombie was dressed in a large airport staff uniform. He had a v-neck sweater pulled tightly over his stomach. The airport logo was messily stitched to his chest, and a crooked badge that read ‘Sanitation Worker’ sat beneath the logo. Under the job title was a laminated scrap of paper telling Barry the man’s name was Bertrand Pinkerton.
“Excuse me, Mr. Pinkerton, but I must be going.” Barry politely smiled before ducking into the luggage store. Barry hoped the sanitation worker wouldn’t follow him in, but it was no surprise when Bertrand Pinkerton followed closely, growling with each step.
Bertrand shuffled heavily, sni
ffing the air as he tried to get closer. He’d lost his way from the core group and was hungry for fresh human meat. He walked right into the front display, knocking over an assortment of travel neck pillows. The clumsy grey figure detected the noise as the pillows toppled to the ground, and it seemed to distract and confuse him for a moment.
Barry held his breath and watched in surprise as the zombie stopped, turned to the mass of different pillows, and stepped forward.
His foot went right down on the closest pillow, the material stretching and moving as the zombie took another step forward. He brought his foot down on another large neck pillow, and the zombie became even more confused as his heavy feet created more noise as he moved.
“Oh, dear. Bertrand Pinkerton is defeated by a rack full of pillows.” Barry laughed quietly as he watched Bertrand take another clumsy step forward.
Harrison skidded to a halt in front of the luggage store. He’d seen the zombie follow Barry inside. “What the actual fuck is going on here?” Harrison mouthed to Barry, hoping not to distract Bertrand with any noises.
Barry smiled at Harrison’s shock. “He’s getting confused by pillows!”
Harrison was less amused than the computer genius. His years in security had taught him to never let the enemy get the higher ground. “Fuck you, Barry. This is going to end up like Dien Bien Phu!”
Barry scrunched his face up, not understanding why Harrison had related Bertrand Pinkerton and the pillow fiasco to a raging bloody battle that killed thousands in a valley across the world in Vietnam.
Harrison shook his head. They were wasting precious time, and more people could die.
Lena ran past Harrison, joining Barry behind the front display. “What’s going on?”
“Harrison thinks this is going to be like Dien Bien Phu,” Barry replied.
“Like what?” Lena asked quietly.
“It was a battle,” Barry explained. “In Vietnam, the French military was set up in this valley called Dien Bien Phu. The Vietnamese soldiers saw them in this valley and beat the crap out of them.”
Lena nodded slowly, unsure what that had to do with the current issue. “Why is this like…” she tried to pronounce the foreign valley, but she butchered it.
Barry chuckled at her odd noises. “I guess Harrison thinks we’re all going to die?” he guessed.
Lena turned her back to Barry, focusing on the real issue at hand. She scanned the store, trying to find something to knock Bertrand out with. The stumbling zombie would eventually figure out the pillow trap, and she didn’t want to be around when he did. “We need a weapon.”
Barry pointed to the checkout counter. “Over there.”
Lena followed his finger to see the cashier counter. At first, all she could see was the cash machines, a stack of gift cards, and a large tub full of charity funded friendship bracelets. There was nothing they could use as a decent weapon. “Barry, we’re not mummifying him in receipt tape,” she said sternly. “Is there anything actually useful over there?”
“Not that,” he said. “There—the canes.” He gestured beside the counter again.
Lena stepped closer to Barry and looked by the counter. Now she could see a large bin of mismatched walking canes. The long canes would be perfect for knocking zombies down. She quickly dashed to the large bin.
Harrison joined Barry by the display case. “I have a plan,” he whispered to Barry.
“Too late. You and your Dien Bien Phu have failed,” he said slowly. “Lena has a plan, and it’s probably better than yours.”
Harrison was taken aback. He was used to being in charge, and he wasn’t exactly sure he liked the change in authority. “What is it?” he asked as politely as possible. He wanted to know what her plan was to see if it was any better than his own crazy idea.
Barry smirked. “Why don’t you tell us your plan? I could use a good laugh.”
Harrison sighed, quickly realizing he was getting nowhere with Barry. “Where is Lena?” he asked briskly.
Barry could see Lena now standing behind Harrison. Barry raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Use your pretty little eyes.” He knew he was agitating Harrison, and he liked it.
Lena picked up the first walking cane she saw. The lightweight material would be too light to do effective damage, let alone knock a zombie down. The second one was longer but had a rubber end to grip the floors better. Lena grabbed for a third and hoped it would work. The cane was long and heavy with four small prongs on the end of it for ultimate support.
She grabbed the walking cane and rushed back to the sanitation worker zombie. Bertrand Pinkerton had emerged from his pillow trap and was once again focused on his hunger for meat.
Lena made her way behind Bertrand and lifted the cane. She quickly looked around to make sure she had enough swinging room and wouldn’t make a lot of noise. Once she made her mental adjustments to her swing, she pulled back and let the zombie have it.
She swung in an upwards arc, the cane striking the undead in the base of the skull and quickly taking him to the floor.
Passengers gasped as they looked through the windows. They had never seen a zombie die before. An older passenger fainted from the sight of the greyish fluid leaking out of the zombie’s head and onto the floor.
The worst, however, was all their planning for subtlety had been rendered useless as soon as a woman screamed loudly, attracting other zombies’ attention. Barry and Harrison sighed in annoyance together. They were used to seeing zombie corpses, so it didn’t bother them. They knew to be quiet, and it was obvious others didn’t. The reactions from the passengers in the terminal certainly weren’t helping the situation.
“We have to hurry,” Barry whispered quickly to Harrison. “Grab whatever you can, then let’s get out of here.”
The pair nodded at each other, and the temporary hate slipped away as they rushed around the store, discreetly stashing items wherever they could.
Emily finally managed to reach the store. She had tried to keep the other people in the terminal under control, but the crowd was confused and afraid. They didn’t know what to do, and they thought they were going to die at the hand of the zombie invasion. Emily reassured as many people as she could that they were going to be okay as long as they stayed calm, quiet, and paid close attention to their surroundings.
“Bad news—they’re panicking,” she told Lena. “The noise isn’t going to be good.”
Lena agreed. She glanced over at Barry who was shoving nail clippers into his bulging pockets. She quickly figured out what he was doing and turned to the flight attendant. “Emily, let’s go to another store and grab anything we think could be used as a weapon.”
Emily nodded. “That sounds great. These shoes are killing me. I’m going to take these off and look for something better!” She slipped her shoes off before hurrying to the next store.
Lena and Emily ran to the next store which was filled with different tourist items. Shirts had LONDON plastered across them, red model phone boxes ranged in sizes, and small, child-sized beefeater costumes lined the shelves. Emily grabbed one of the costumes. The staff had a blunt end on it, but it was sharp enough to work as a weapon. She picked up all the staffs, laying them on the counter in a pile. That seemed to be enough, but she was determined to find anything useful.
Lena grabbed a stash of scissors from under the counter, wishing there were guns close by because that would be the easiest way to get rid of the zombie crowd once and for all.
“How are you doing this in that skirt?” Lena blurted out at random. She’d been unintentionally staring at Emily’s uniform skirt, amazed at how agile she was despite the tight outfit.
Emily giggled. Her tights had long ladders torn in the fine material, and her skirt was heavily worn. If the zombie invasion ended and the world got back to normal, she would need an entirely new uniform. “I have no bloody idea, but I’m considering putting on some of these joggers” she said, holding up a pair of sweat pants with LONDON in large yellow let
ters on them.
Lena hated the yellow lettering. “At least put on the green pair.” She pointed to the green lettered pants next to the others on the rack.
“Do you think the boys will worry where we are?” Emily asked, pulling the pants over her tights. She took a few extra moments to look around and found a comfy looking pair of slip on shoes. She smiled as she slid those on her aching feet. They felt like heaven.
Lena grabbed half the items on the counter. “I doubt it. Hey, when you’re finished, grab the rest of this, will you?”
Emily finished changing and grabbed the remaining items on the counter. The two women dashed back to the luggage shop as quickly as they could.
“Ha! Caught you!” A tall security guard with a long mustache stood at the store’s entrance.
Emily and Lena worriedly looked over at Barry and Harrison. Now wasn’t the time for a criminal investigation. They were only trying to help after all. The security guard looked like he was straight from a low budget 1980s cop show.
“Now isn’t the time.” Harrison sighed and shook his head as he looked at the security guard.
The tall guard huffed. “It’s always the time to catch sniveling little pratts like you.”
Lena scratched behind her ear. “Look, we commend you for doing your job, but now really isn’t—”
“Shut it,” the guard barked harshly, interrupting her. “What you’re doing is looting. You’re taking advantage of a bad situation and trying to turn it into personal gain. There’s a lot of better things to be worrying about, but here I am… Needing to police all of you.” His tone was overly condescending.
Barry’s eyes widened as he pointed behind the guard. “There’s a zombie behind you!”
The guard quickly looked back over his shoulder, but then he focused back on Barry with furrowed brows. “Enough of your funny business. Everything is fine out there.”
Pandemic Z | Book 2 | Pandemic Z 2 Page 9