by Riva, Aline
The other kids looked at him.
“The fox wasn't hit by a car, Mr Page,” said one of the boys, and he indicated to the edge of the field, where more bloody remains were glistening in the sun, “The other half of it is over there. Something ate it.”
Chris looked down at the dead fox. It was then he saw something shining, caught between rib and flesh: It was a razor tooth... he drew in a sharp breath and looked to the kids.
“Everyone inside, now!” he said urgently, “Come on, everybody, that includes you, Archie!”
Archie had turned away, looking thoughtfully to the colourful Autumn leaves as they poked through the railings.
“But the leaves are pretty -”
“Not now, Archie!” he said, taking hold of his flipper shaped hand as he led him back inside.
“But Archie saw red leaves and yellow and brown!” Archie declared with a smile.
Chris closed the door and locked it, then looked around at his class, making a quick head count. No one was missing.
“I want you all to stay here, line up in pairs and wait for me,” he said, then as they started to line up and Archie lingered at the back looking confused, Angel stood beside him, taking hold of his hand. He looked down at her hand in his tapered grip.
“Did you wash your hands?”
She nodded.
“Good,” Archie replied, “Always wash your hands, Angel.”
Outside the classroom, Chris closed the door behind him and stood in the corridor, reaching for his two way radio. He opened up the channel and began to speak quietly:
“Code Z... dead fox in the back playground, torn in half. I saw a razor tooth in its body. A razor mouth did this and we shut the gates this morning. It could still be on the premises. Bring the kids into the main hall, we're on lock down.”
There was a reply from Zoey confirming she got the message, then she said she was on her way, and would let Karen know as she reached her classroom. Chris put the radio back in his pocket, breathing a sigh of relief as he glanced down at the loaded gun holstered at his side. The zombie could be stopped with a bullet. It wasn't as if he hadn't killed before - and he used to do it blind, so surely he had an advantage now he could see. He just hoped he saw it before it saw him, because it was a razor mouth, and those fuckers were fast...
A few minutes later, all three classes were sat on the floor in the main hall. They chatted among themselves as the teachers stood together at the side of the gathering, talking in low voices. Zoey looked terrified. Karen was shaking. Neither had ever killed a zombie. They had never even seen a zombie, except for the times they had looked over the barrier, back in Winter when the fences had gone up... They had no clue how bad this could get.
“It's a razor mouth,” Chris whispered as he stood with his back to the distracted kids, “I know how to kill them, I've done it enough times on the road... I want you both to stay here with the kids and if anything comes through those doors, you raise your weapon, and you shoot it. Just pull the trigger like you were taught back in Summer.”
“I wasn't very good at target practise,” said Zoey as she blinked back tears.
“I think I could hit it if I was close enough,” Karen added, “I'll stand by the doors, Zoey, you watch over the kids.”
“And tell them not to worry, explain there might be a threat and it's probably nothing, but this is a chance to practise lock down,” Chris added.
She nodded. Her face pale as she walked over to the children and began to speak.
“I don't want anyone to worry,” she said, “I am going to stay right here and Mrs Hughes will wait by the door with her weapon ready and Mr Page is going to do a sweep of the building. We have to be sure it wasn't a zombie that killed the fox. It probably wasn't a zombie, but this is a good chance to practise lock down. Now, if a zombie is seen through the window in that door,” she indicated to the door where Karen stood, “We go out of this door,” she pointed to the other side of the room, “For now, both doors are locked but if we need to get out, I will unlock it and you will all follow me to the main reception area, where I will activate the gates if necessary, and we will stay in a group and make our way towards town. But we probably don't have to do any of that, so stay calm.”
Angel frowned as she looked at Archie, whose dark eyes had gone wide.
“I don't want the monster to eat Archie,” he said in a small voice as he looked at her.
“I won't let any monsters eat you, Archie,” Angel promised him, and as his tapered hand trembled, she clutched it tightly.
Karen spoke again.
“Now, in case there is a zombie, it's very important to be quiet. So no talking...”
While Zoey was addressing the children, Chris had slipped out the door, leaving Karen to guard it. As he made his way up the corridor he was already assessing the situation, and it went beyond these premises: There was a breach somewhere for a razor mouth to get in. And it wasn't at the main gates or where the barriers had recently been strengthened. The fencing ran all the way around one third of the town and it was nowhere obvious... He thought about the barriers that cut through the woodland and backed on to Lord Featherstone's land. That wasn't far from here, at the back of the school the woodland stretched on into his land. If he had broken fencing and didn't know about it and his gates were open for war games, they could be pouring into the town within hours... And then there was the matter of the zombie that could still be on the premises – it had killed a fox. It must have been starving to resort to wildlife instead of human flesh. It was starving, craving blood and it had killed the fox sometime before the school had opened for the day. They had locked the gates just before nine that morning. It could definitely still be in here...
Chris had his weapon ready, holding his gun in a two handed grip as he paused at the end of the corridor, looked left and right, saw and heard nothing, and then began to head for the route that led down the middle of the building, where all of the class rooms were empty. The three classes that currently made up this school were all in the back corridor, and those rooms were empty now, the main hall had a classroom opposite and the offices were just around the corner - also empty, because they had seen through the windows on the way to the hall. Nothing could hide in there. That left this corridor and the short one beyond it, running from the front of the building to the back. Outside in the middle of the premises was a large square of land where there was pond and a small grass area, on the other side, the older kids were going to learn about growing vegetables. There was no zombie out there... He stopped walking, pausing to listen, hearing nothing but silence. Then he thought about how the creature could gain access... The main entrance around the front was unlocked to bring the kids in, then locked again. But the side entrance was left unlocked for the volunteers who came in at lunch time to cook for the kids. Not everyone had a packed lunch and there was always food available at lunchtime for who ever needed it... That was the only way into the building, and he was heading towards it.
Chris drew in a slow breath, then started to walk past empty classrooms, heading for the turn in the corridor that led to the canteen. That was when he caught the stink of death and he stopped, sniffing the air again. It was a strange sense of relief to realise that it hadn't left him, he still had sharpened senses when it came to finding zombies...
He kept a tight grip on his gun as he walked quickly and quietly towards the turn in the corridor. He heard it before he saw it, he heard a low snarl and then as he stopped walking, the shadow loomed as it staggered closer. It rounded the corner, opened a mouth of shedding teeth and roared, lunging as he fired off three shots. The creature was flung against the wall by the impact, then it crashed down to the floor as it lay there, dead eyes staring up as its mouth yawned open. A hand twitched as it bled out from shots to the neck and chest. It seemed even the razor mouths were slowing down now. Chris stood over the zombie, aiming for the head, and fired a final shot that echoed about the corridor. He was still looking down at
the corpse as he spoke into his radio.
“Zombie located and eliminated.”
Then he locked the side door, sliding the bolt across to be sure, before pausing to open up the final door, and a quick glance inside told him no zombies lurked within. They were secure - at least, the building was. This wasn't over yet, there was a breach somewhere in the fencing that led to the woods, and beyond that, a barrier was unsecured, and that, was a matter for Lord Featherstone... He put his gun away and headed back to the main hall, his thoughts now on Angel and her fascination with guts. He would have to talk to Joy and Mickey about this. Clearly, seeing her zombified parents eating each other was not something she was going to get over any time soon... His thoughts on Angel's issues left him as the door to the main hall was opened by Karen, as she and Zoey smiled and Zoey said, “Mr Page is a hero, he killed the zombie!”
The kids all cheered. The two women were still smiling at him with so much admiration he knew his face had turned scarlet.
“It was nothing,” he said, trying to play it down, “I've done it a few times, on the road...” then he turned his thoughts to what had to be done next, “Okay, we know the procedure - there's been an incident, the kids have to go home until the school is cleaned up and the body is removed from the premises - and we have to stay armed and ready in case it wasn't an isolated incident – When the kids are safely home, I have to call a meeting with the committee about security. There's a weakness somewhere in the fencing. At some point soon I'll get a letter printed out and have it circulated to all parents explaining what happened. Now let's get the children out of here - we've got three classes to walk home!”
Joy had walked across the field and headed uphill, to where the fencing snaked off into the trees. Beyond this was Lord Featherstone's land, and once she got past the fencing, it would be a long walk to the manor. She walked alongside the fencing, hearing nothing but the rustle of leaves as the cold breeze stirred the branches and the trees shed with grace as leaves twisted down to earth. Up ahead she saw a breach in the barrier, and she paused, looking intently at the way a rusted railing poked through buckled wood... she went over to it, cautiously peering inside. Met with nothing but silence she stepped through, as it registered that if she could get through, so could a zombie... further along the path as she followed the snaking route of the fence she saw another gap, where she could see right through to a large field. It was the field at the back of the primary school...
Joy looked about, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, as somewhere above, Evolved ran about tree branches softly chattering, as up ahead she saw a path that cut through the woodland. Joy took a cautious step on to it then stopped again, feeling the beat of her own heart as she took in a tight breath: Had zombies passed through this way? Could they get in? Where was Lord Featherstone's gate that let the zombies in for the war games? She saw no creeping shadows but looked about again to be sure, pausing to listen for the wheeze and moans of the undead. But she heard only the breeze fluttering dry leaves as she made a run for it, darting down the path as it twisted and turned and in the distance, she saw a clearing where across a wide expanse of lawn stood Featherstone manor, an impressive old building of grey brick with wide windows and a sweeping driveway.
She reached the edge of the lawn, looked about and then followed the path around the side of the house where she stopped abruptly, staring at the sight of a dozen men in World War One uniforms checking weapons - those weapons were modern machine guns. Across the other side of the lawn was a visible part of the barrier as it cut through the land, there was a large gate set into it, and it was firmly locked. There was a trench in the middle of the lawn and the path to it was lined with fencing of wooden posts and barbed wire. Here and there, holes were visible in the ground, some looked like small craters, and nearby a dead zombie hung lifeless on the wire with a bullet to the head. The men with the guns glanced at her, then one stepped forward.
“I'm Joy Evans, I'm a police officer and I'm here to speak with his Lordship,” she said.
The guy looked to the others, who seemed more interested in checking their guns than conversation.
“He's not here,” he said, “But Charlie is.”
As he went off with the others to unload a crate of ammo and explosives, a voice spoke up.
“Do we have a visitor?” he called out, and the guy who had spoken to Joy nodded and indicated behind him.
He turned around. He was a short, stocky man wearing a suit of derby tweed. His hair was short and spiked and he wore a diamond stud in his ear, and going by the accent she had just detected in his voice, if this was Lord Featherstone, he didn't sound like aristocracy - more like somewhere close to born and bred in North London... He was in his late fifties, or maybe he was older. And there was a sparkle in his dark eyes as he smiled, showing off a gold capped tooth.
“Good morning! What can I do for you?” he asked as he paused to take a drink from a whiskey glass and the ice inside it knocked together, “I take it that young prick Brett Norton's been whining again, about my army blowing holes in my land, firing my guns and keeping the zombie population down, in the interest of all of us?”
She couldn't help but smile.
“Brett is a prick,” she agreed, “And he doesn't have the power he used to. Everything has to be run past the committee now – and by Devan and my partner Mickey, too. You're not Lord Featherstone?”
“No,” he replied, “I'm his husband, Charlie Featherstone. We met thirty years ago when I opened a bar down the seafront, been together ever since and done a lot of good for this town we love so much. We married three years ago. And since the world went tits up, our priority is defending our soil!”
“I'm not here to complain about anything, I just need to talk to your husband,” Joy said.
“I apologise if the gunfire and the explosions disturb the peace, but we have a different approach to handling the enemy,” he told her, “We don't rely on barriers alone. Bradley and I started up our war games many years ago as a hobby. Now we fight with real ammo and grenades,” he paused to place a hand on her shoulder as he spoke again, a wild gleam coming to his eyes as he made his announcement:
“We will fight them on the beaches! We will fight them on the promenade, we will fight them in the supermarkets and in the residential streets, this is war and this is England, and we are declaring war, as us British should, on that stinking rotten enemy that we call the undead! Cheers.”
He paused to raise his glass and swig from it.
“Charlie,” said Joy, knowing it was early in the day to be drinking, and sensing something wasn't right here, “I really need to speak to Bradley Featherstone.”
“He's been unwell, he's resting upstairs,” Charlie said, leading her around to open doors that led into a large and lavishly decorated room filled with antique furniture.
“Please have a seat. Maybe I can help you, Joy?”
“Does Bradley need a doctor? We have a doctor in town now, I know her well, her name is River.”
His gaze darted towards a drinks cabinet, then he looked down at his empty glass and set it on the table instead.
“No, he just needs to rest. And he's asked me to act on his behalf while he's recovering. So what can I do for you, Joy Evans, police officer?” he smiled, then looked at her intently, waiting for her response.
“You might want to sit down to hear this,” she said, “It's about the zombies. They're dying off.”
He took a seat on a padded armchair as he looked across at her, as she sat on the sofa.
“I know the razor mouths are few and far between now. All we seem to kill these days are slow lumbering idiots who pose very little threat. It's the fast ones I want to wipe out, because they are the real killers here – their bite is deadly. Not so much with the slower creatures.”
“They're all getting slow,” Joy told him, “And they are dying off. We have information from a former staff member at Marshcast that this virus was never meant to happen. It
was intended to be a phase of the project that brought the Evolved into being.”
He stared at her.
“The what?”
“The small, chattering creatures in the trees? They're designed to be life savers. One bite can heal the sick or injured.”
His expression changed to one of utter shock.
“I've heard about these animals crawling out of dead zombies... I've seen them in the trees, but I didn't think it could be true,” then suspicion reflected in his gaze, “You know someone from Marshcast?”
“Yes, we do,” Joy replied, “And she is telling the truth - the project was sabotaged when the first test subject reanimated and was deliberately let out to attack people. I guess they didn't realise no one could contain the situation. They underestimated how fast it could spread.”
“Who did this?” Charlie demanded.
“Apparently it was set up by the pharmaceutical companies, they stood to lose out greatly when the world found out about the Evolved.”
He fell silent, shaking his head as he thought about the terrible events he had witnessed since this nightmare had started back last Winter.
“The zombies are the host,” Joy added, “As they die off, the Evolved emerge from their bodies. You have to stop killing them, the zombies are the biggest threat we have ever known, but they are literally carrying hope for the future. They are the chrysalis for the Evolved. Kill the dying zombies and you kill off the Evolved with them.”
He paused for a moment, then as he looked at her, she saw desperation in his eyes.
“Can those animals cure a bite from a razor mouth?” he asked.