by Hatchett
“If they only got small doorways, then we can shoot the fuckers one at a time.”
“Have you got enough bullets?”
“Yeah,” Mamba replied confidently, then looked around the room and on spotting Basir, called him over.
Basir left the group he was with and walked over to Mamba’s table.
“Yeah boss?”
“How many bullets we got?”
Basir wasn’t sure if Mamba was joking but thought about all the equipment they had.
“Dunno, thousands I guess.”
“There ya go, thousands,” Mamba repeated, looking at Ernie as if he’d won a bet.
“What happens if they don’t come out one by one?” Ernie asked.
“We got machine guns.”
“What if they come at you from different directions with their own machine guns?”
“We got RPG’s,” Mamba gloated.
“And bombs,” Basir added helpfully.
“Anyway, I thought ya said there’s only one way in.” Mamba argued.
“No. I said I knew one of the ways in. There could be loads of other access points dotted all around us. Probably hidden in plain sight.”
“Eh?”
“Well, some entrances could be more obvious like purpose-built buildings on Government property…”
“Like the place we passed on the road when we got here,” Ahmed butted in. “I knew I didn’t like that place.”
“…or there could be doorways in the centre of town that you think lead to an alley between two buildings, but don’t,” Ernie continued.
Mamba thought about it. What Ernie was saying sounded sensible.
“Don’t trust no Government,” Ahmed was still chuntering. “They have eyes everywhere.”
“Shut up, Ahmed, fer fuck’s sake,” Mamba scolded him. “I’m tryin’ ta fuckin’ think.”
“Don’t think too hard, might get brain damage,” Ahmed retorted.
Mamba shook his head dismissively.
“Why are you bothering to do this?” Evelyn asked with interest.
“’Cos, I wanna. There’s a bloke down there who’s upset me,” Mamba replied.
“One out of ten thousand?” Evelyn said in surprise. “Remind me not to get on your bad side,” she said in jest, but underneath she was a bit worried.
Then she asked the question which had been on her mind all day.
“You know this is your fight and nothing to do with the townspeople? We’re just making good on our promise that Ernie would help you find the way in. Of course, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like and share everything we have.”
“No problem, no need ta get yer knickers in a twist,” Mamba replied. “’N we’ll be gone as soon as we’re done. We got plenty of other fuckers ta sort out.”
Evelyn tried not to let her relief show. She made her excuses, said goodnight and left them to it.
“Anyone seen any unusual openings?” Basir piped up, bringing everyone back to the subject at hand.
Ernie thought about it, shaking his head and looking at Chrissy and Natalie in case they could think of anything.
“Why ya askin’ that?” Mamba asked, intrigued.
“Well, they’re underground aren’t they, so they’ve got to breathe somehow, so there must be pipes or something allowing air to get down there.”
“Good thinkin’, Basir,” Mamba said, bringing a smile to Basir’s face. “We could chuck a few bombs or grenades down the tubes.”
“Thought ya wanted ta fuck ‘em up, not jus’ kill ‘em,” Ahmed pointed out.
“True,” Mamba acknowledged, “but if they got loads of soldiers, we might have ta jus’ go with the killin’ bit.”
Natalie offered Mamba the pad of paper and a pen.
“Nah, ya write it down,” Mamba said, finishing his beer and shouting towards the bar for another one.
There were two locals behind the bar, and they stuck their thumbs up before sorting out some more drinks.
“We got any knock-out gas?” Mamba asked.
“Not that I know of,” Basir replied.
They both looked to Ahmed.
“Ya sorted the gear, bro,” Mamba pointed out.
“They didn’t have any,” Ahmed replied, having no idea whether the Heathrow armoury did or didn’t. He hadn’t seen any, although they had such an array of gear, he probably wouldn’t have known what it was even if he had seen it.
“Shit,” Mamba said.
“There’s other ways of gettin’ to ‘em, like I said earlier,” Ahmed added.
Mamba nodded.
“Yeah,” Mamba agreed. “We need ta be smart. Right, we need a map ‘n some idea of what’s down there. Ernie?”
“I’ve only seen a bit of it and can’t remember anything much. Just saw a big road that went around the outer edge of the place and loads of electric carts ferrying people from one place to another. Some of the blokes said they’d seen a hospital, communications room, meeting rooms, accommodation, kitchens, laundry. All big and all the things you would expect to see in a big town.”
“Thought ya said it was a city,” Mamba pointed out.
“Not all cities are big, son. It’s probably about the same size of this town. Big enough for you lot to get separated and lost.”
“Then we need ta bring the fuckers ta us,” Mamba said, “jus’ like Ahmed’s bin sayin’. That way, we decide what’s happenin’.”
“Yes, but don’t forget they could come from different places.”
“I bet they got a way in ‘n out at that place we was at today,” Ahmed said, “’n that place on the way here.”
“There’s lots of M.O.D. sites around here,” Ernie said. “They could have dozens of entry points. Some could be in buildings you wouldn’t expect. There also has to be lift access somewhere.”
“Lifts? Now ya tell us,” Mamba said, eyes rising to the ceiling. “Where are they?”
“I don’t know. Just heard some bloke saying they had industrial sized lifts. Thinking about it, they had to have a way of taking stuff down once they bricked off some of the larger entrances.”
“Jesus! It’s like a fuckin’ anthill.”
A man appeared carrying a tray of drinks and placed them all on the table. They all helped themselves to a top up.
“Keep ‘em comin’,” Mamba said as the man walked away.
“We can’t go in there,” Ahmed reiterated. “We gotta bring ‘em ta us.”
“Yeah, but how?” Mamba said, getting frustrated. “We dunno the access points ‘n we dunno how many soldiers they got or what weapons. We dunno where the air comes from. We…” he paused, thinking. “Where’d they get their water?”
“Their own underground reservoir,” Ernie said.
“How’d ya know that?” Mamba asked.
“Heard some bloke talking about it.”
“Where’s this fuckin’ bloke ya keep talkin’ ‘bout? He sounds more fuckin’ use then ya are. Mebbe I need ta speak ta the organ grinder, not the fuckin’ monkey.”
“He’s probably dead by now,” Ernie replied, matter of factly.
“Great! Anythin’ else this ‘bloke’ knew or said afore he died that yer’ve forgotten ta tell us?”
Ernie thought about it.
“I heard there was a big turbine at the M.O.D. place you went to earlier. Maybe that pushes the air down. Oh, and another thing. No one saw anyone arriving or going in there when the zombies came, so if there’s thousands down there, they must have arrived some other way.”
“Like an underground road,” Mamba suggested.
“Or an underground train,” Ernie said.
They all looked at him, thinking.
Mamba thought back to his conversations with Jack back at Heathrow. He reckoned that the fucker knew far more than he was letting on. Maybe he knew exactly how to get to Burlington but was just playing with him, thinking there was no chance he would be able to do anything here in Corsham, but just using the opportunity to get rid o
f Mamba and his men. From what he had gathered in their brief conversation, Jack had taken control back thanks to that fucking double-crossing Sami. He thought back to the call Jack had taken with his boss on the other end of the line, he couldn’t remember the fucker’s name, but he was a right arsehole. Complete knob. He had been talking about visiting Heathrow, so how was he planning to do that without coming back up to the surface? Underground, of course, which meant there must be a tunnel underground with either a road or rail track. It also meant that this tunnel went to Heathrow or somewhere close by. Food for thought.
He got up from his seat and almost ran to his bedroom, leaving the rest of them looking after him in surprise.
Once in his bedroom, he hunted through his gear until he found the sat phone, fired it up and pressed the number one.
The phone started ringing, and after a while it was finally picked up.
“Jack? Ya there?” Mamba asked.
“No, this is Issy,” came the response.
“Cobra!” Mamba shouted in delight, “how’s my girl?”
“I’m not your girl, Mamba. What do you want?”
“Jack. Where is the fucker?”
“Not here. So, I repeat, what do you want?”
“I think Jack knows more ‘bout Burlington than he let on,” Mamba said.
Issy laughed. Hard.
“God, you’re so stupid, like an ignorant little boy,” Issy laughed again. “Ayla was right about you. You’re a fucking muppet, you know that? Can’t wait to tell the rest of them about this conversation. Ding, ding, ding, Mamba has finally realised that Jack didn’t tell him the whole story.”
“I ain’t gonna forget that, Cobra. Ya gonna wish ya’d never said it. And ya can tell that bitch Ayla, that I know she stitched me up ‘n I’m comin’ fer her. Mamba never forgets.”
“Bring it on, muppet, assuming you can get back here in one piece. Does that mean you’re giving up on Burlington? Too difficult for you is it? Big boy stuff?”
“I ain’t givin’ nothin’ up!” Mamba shouted down the phone. “’N when I kill all ‘em fuckin’ posh pricks under my feet, I’m comin’ fer ya. ‘N I’m gonna take things nice n’ slow ‘n enjoy every fuckin’ minute. Yer gonna be beggin’ me ta fuckin’ kill ya in the end.”
“Promises, promises,” Issy replied, continuing to wind Mamba up, knowing full well that it was working like a treat.
“I’m comin’ ta get ya girl, ya betta believe it!” he shouted again before turning the phone off and hurling it against the far wall where it rebounded off its rubber casing and fell to the carpet, leaving a small, ragged dent in the plasterboard.
Mamba snatched up the map Gert had produced for him and pocketed it as he left the room.
41
Day 22 – 16:30
Corsham
Mamba stormed back into the lounge, the door hitting the wall hard before rebounding and slamming shut and causing everyone in the room to pause what they were doing and look around.
Mamba marched straight up to the bar to get himself another beer as Ahmed and Natalie quickly rose from their seats and hurried over to see what the problem was.
Basir had seen Mamba in one of these moods before and quickly whispered to Chrissy and Ernie not to say anything before he made a quick exit back to his group of friends.
“You OK?” Natalie asked kindly as she reached Mamba.
She was about to put a hand on his shoulder but seeing the murderous look on his face she had second thoughts.
Mamba grabbed his beer and strode back to his seat, Ahmed and Natalie rushing to keep up. Natalie moved to the seat Basir had vacated so that she could be next to Mamba, although there was a brief hesitation, wondering if she was doing the right thing.
“What’s up, bro?” Ahmed asked from a relatively safe distance the other side of the table.
“Fuckin’ Heathrow,” Mamba said, as if that explained everything.
No one followed up on the answer and just waited for Mamba to calm down, talking amongst themselves in the meantime. Mamba downed his beer and Natalie rushed up to the bar of her own volition for a few more, sure that they wouldn’t go to waste.
Eventually, Mamba calmed down enough to talk, although he was still in a foul mood and many of his replies were monosyllabic grunts at best.
After an hour and a few more beers, he seemed to lighten up, even humming along to one of the tunes in the background and at one point actually smiled.
He got up and headed for the toilets.
“Mind the shrivelled white dick ‘n the glory hole,” Ahmed said to Mamba’s retreating back, and that finally brought a laugh, although everyone around the table was frowning at Ahmed as if he’d just developed Tourette’s syndrome. “Personal joke,” he told them.
When Mamba returned, he was like a different person. The bad mood had disappeared, and he was ready to join in the conversation again.
“I’ve pretty much decided how we gonna do it,” he said, picking up the pad that Natalie had been jotting notes on, “but I’ve got a couple more questions fer Ernie.”
Ernie looked at Mamba expectantly.
“Ya mentioned a big fan,” he started.
“I think I said turbine, but yes, same sort of thing,” Ernie agreed.
“Are there more, or just the one?”
Ernie thought about it.
“I only know of one,” Ernie confirmed.
Mamba turned to look for Basir and spotted him on the far side of the room.
“Basir!” Mamba shouted, and Basir jumped as if he’d been shot.
Basir looked across to Mamba fearing the worst. He’d seen the mood he was in and was dreading what was coming next. He was pleasantly surprised when he saw that Mamba was smiling.
“Come here, I won’t bite,” Mamba said, and Basir reluctantly walked across the room towards him.
“Yeah, Boss?” Basir asked, when he got there.
“How many people ya got who can build bombs?” Mamba asked.
“Four or five,” Basir replied.
“Right, get ‘em makin’ lots of ‘em. Small ‘n big. Stay up all night if ya have ta. Ya can teach some of the others. Oh, ‘n Ahmed can help. I also want people gettin’ dirty ‘n scoutin’ diff’rent areas I’ve marked on this map overnight. I want it done without anyone bein’ seen.”
Mamba handed over the map.
Ahmed looked surprised and Chrissy gave him a cold stare.
“What?” Ahmed asked, seeing her look.
“All night?” she demanded.
Ahmed shrugged.
“Get ta it Basir!” Mamba ordered and Basir jumped out of his skin again before running off to get his men and start work.
“What’s the plan?” Ernie asked.
Mamba spent the next couple of hours explaining what he was hoping to do and talking to his men about their roles. He didn’t want anyone getting confused as it could mean the difference between life and death.
Once Mamba had finished, Ernie went home, and Mamba dragged a giggling Natalie up the stairs to his room.
Chrissy had the hump about Ahmed having to stay up, but with nothing better to do, decided to stay with him and try to learn what he was doing.
42
Day 22 – 20:30
Burlington
Sir James Curtis-Smyth took a sip of his brandy, staring at the dark liquid in the crystal glass and savouring the taste before looking back to his old friend, the Right Honourable Charles Barrington MP, who had been the Prime Minister when the zombie outbreak occurred and was still the man in charge fifty metres below the ground in this new kingdom.
Sir James had just finished describing what had happened that morning, omitting the disgusting violation of the dead zombie and the fact that the men had guns.
The PM was still clearly uneasy with what he’d heard.
“It’s nothing to worry about, old boy,” Sir James said. “It’s the only thing that’s happened in three weeks, and judging by the looks of them,
they were just a small bunch of scavengers who bit off more than they could chew. They lost two today, so it’s only a matter of time before the others follow the same fate.”
“I’m not worried about them finding us, James. I’m just concerned that we didn’t do anything to help them. In fact, it doesn’t sit well that we didn’t do more for the population as a whole instead of looking after ourselves.”
Sir James had heard this all before. The longer they had been down there, the more the guilt was eating away at the PM.
“You know there was nothing you could do, old boy,” Sir James said for what felt like the hundredth time. “You had to take steps to secure our continuity.”
“But there’s people up there who are fighting for their lives. People we could be helping.”
“You know it’s just too risky,” Sir James replied. He sometimes wished he could record his answers and let the PM play them back whenever his conscience got the better of him. “We have thousands of people down here that require us to be cautious. There will come a time when we can all return to the surface safely.”
Even as he was saying it, Sir James wasn’t convinced it would ever happen.
“I know you’re right,” the PM continued, “but it doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Just think of the people you’ve saved, dear boy. If there was still an honours system, you’d be in line for the top gong.”
The PM drained the last of his drink and stood up.
“I think I’m going to have an early night,” he said, before nodding to Sir James and taking his leave.
Sir James watched him go then drained his own drink and raised his hand to a passing waiter to get a refill. No early night for him tonight, or any other night for that matter. He had no one to go home to.
43
Day 23 – 07:00
Corsham
Mamba awoke and glanced over to see Natalie’s blond hair spread out on the pillow and the blanket pulled up to her chin. She was breathing softly, her eyelids fluttering every now and again.
She was a stunning looking woman, and the sex was good, but not overly exciting. He just didn’t trust her or even like her that much. She was just doing what she needed to do to survive.