No Zombies Please We Are British (8 page)

As they watched, the police arrived. The riot squads ready to stop the trouble. They were mown down by the wave of gnashing teeth. Their uniforms protected their bodies, but it did not matter where the bite occurred.

The video stopped just as the wave of the undead broke the police ranks and sent the remaining members of the public scrambling.

“That’s fucked up,” Jack said, nodding in agreement with whatever it was Steve had said before. He couldn’t remember it exactly.

“There is one more,” Steve told them, his voice grave.

Swiping the screen, naturally moving the wrong way first, Jack found the video and pressed play. The location had changed. It was now on a street view. Steve’s brother had big balls it would appear.

The military was there. Not in grand numbers but two armoured four-by-fours with a mini-gun mounted on the back of each.

The camera moved from the guns to the horde and back to the guns again. It then moved back to focus on the people who were caught between. Those fleeing for their lives. A few moments later, the guns let rip. There was no sound, so the first shot was not heard, but the way the bodies danced and twisted as the rounds tore through their flesh, it was obvious what had happened. The camera moved back from the horde to the guns and back to the horde again.

Alessa gasped, and her hand found Jack’s, squeezing it tight. The civilians were gone, their bodies lay scattered over the road, the red of their blood a rich contrast to the near black excretions of the death-walkers.

The video ended with a freeze frame on the mini guns. The soldiers manning them were stoic-faced, doing their job, and eliminating the threat.

“That was the last one he sent before everything went to shit. That was Saturday night. I think it is safe to say that London has fallen.” The words sounded like the title of a dodgy movie, but the sentiment behind them was sobering.

Jack handed the phone back, aware that his hand was shaking as he did it. “I have to try,” he said, resolved.

“Your friend is dead,” Steve said. “It might sound harsh, but those are the facts.”

“No, well, I don’t know, but they called me and told me where they were. I have to try, I can’t just leave them behind.” Jack was resolute in his convictions.

“I will help you,” Alessa said, giving Jack’s hand one final squeeze before letting go.

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Jack countered.

“No, but I say it, so I mean it. I will go. You saved my life, I will help you, always.” She smiled and that same shiver ran through him again.

“What the fuck, it’s better than my plan anyway. You can count me in too,” Steve said then smiled. He clapped Jack on the back, a blow that was hard enough to make him wince.

“Why?” Jack asked. “I’m grateful to you, don’t get me wrong, but you don’t know me.”

“I don’t. But I did see what you would do for a total stranger. I saw a selfless act, a brave act. You are a leader and thinker. In this new world, we are going to need allies.”

“Thank you.”

“So what are we going to do?” Alessa asked.

“I think the first thing is a shower. No offense, but you two are filthy, and smell like, well, bad.” Steve smiled.

“Oh, yes, showers … but both … um, I’m, and she is …” Jack stuttered, caught off guard.

“Easy there, Romeo. I have enough water for you to shower separately.” Steve came to the rescue.

Jack felt his face burn with embarrassment. Beside him, he heard Alessa giggle. His mind spun trying to find something to say, but he couldn’t.

“I’m flattered,” Alessa said, planting a kiss on Jack’s cheek as she followed Steve. She looked back over her shoulder. Jack was watching her walk. She smiled at him, and he smiled back.

Chapter 8

When Jack first saw Alessa, well not the first time, or the second, because she had been cowering in the back of a bus, but certainly one of the first times that Jack really saw Alessa, he had thought she was beautiful. When he emerged from his shower, wearing a fresh set of clothes provided by Steve, he really saw Alessa, and his opinion changed.

Clean, the grime and guts scrubbed from her skin, her dirty-blonde hair no longer quite so dirty, free of the tangles and clumps of who knew what, there was no way beautiful was a word that covered her.

Jack realized he was staring, and felt his cheeks redden once more. “I’m sorry, it’s just … you look stunning. It took my breath away for a moment.” The flush on his cheek intensified, but an equal shade spread over Alessa’s face also.

“Thank you. You look …” She smiled as her eyes ran up and down Jack’s new outfit.

Contrary to Alessa’s change of clothes, which must have been inside her backpack, Jack looked as if he had dressed himself in the dark.

Alessa was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, which hugged her figure like a glove, and a long, flowing top with multi-coloured horizontal stripes. Nothing crazy, but blues, oranges, yellows, and browns. It had a wide neck that showed off her slender shoulders, and while it was a baggy top, it somehow seemed to flow over the right places of her body and accentuate them. Her long hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail, which was something that Jack had always found to be a real turn on.

Jack had been given a pair of knee-length cargo shorts and a faded Slayer t-shirt. Both of which were too big for him, and hung from his frame, making him look gangly.

“Yeah, don’t say it,” he answered, grinning.

Steve rejoined them, having disappeared into his bedroom to change his clothes. “Looking good.” He smiled at Jack. “So, the city is about forty-five minutes from here, but I wouldn’t expect us to get even half way before we had to duck out of the way and find some shelter.” Steve pulled an old road map from the cupboard and spread it on the table.

“How far do you think we could get?” Jack asked. “My girlfriend is in the West End, but I don’t know which theatre.”

To his left, he felt Alessa withdraw from him, as he finally let slip who it was he was going to rescue.

“I think we could get as far as Holloway, maybe even Camden Town, if we are lucky. Probably have to ditch the car before that, but I know the area well enough,” Steve answered, studying the map, pointing to places and marking certain areas with crosses and circles.

“I’m going to leave you guys to talk. I don’t know what you are pointing at anyway.” Alessa smiled, leaning in close to Jack as she did. He caught a scent of her perfume and his head swam just a bit, only for a second, but long enough for it to add to his confusion.

“Sure thing. I don’t have much to offer, but …” Steve began.

“I’m okay. I will watch the window. Maybe I will learn something.” She turned and moved across to the other side of the flat.

“I like her,” Steve said, nodding his head appreciatively.

“Yeah, me too,” Jack answered, his eyes watching the sexy Italian figure sitting against the window, resting on the slender ledge.

“So, you don’t know where your girlfriend is exactly.” Steve stressed the word.

“I know, I know.” Jack pulled his eyes away and went back to the map. “She was watching a show with her mum. I got a message they were trapped inside, and that all hell was breaking loose. Then I lost her.”

“Well, if we can get as far as Camden, we will still have a good five or six miles to cover, and that’s not including all the doubling back we are going to have to do. We had better make sure that we mark some places we can stay, crash for the night, or simply for cover. If the military are shooting civilians, then I don’t want to come across them if I can help it.” Steve studied the map, and added some more marks, this time in red.

“You seem to know what you are talking about,” Jack said as he watched Steve work.

“I used to be a music groupie. I would follow the heavy metal bands around with some guys I knew. I would always mark down the itinerary and where we could crash. I figure, this isn’t too different. Well, except for the dead wandering around eating us and shit.”

It took them several hours to get a plan of where they would move, and where they could crash. In that time, they had several breaks, and were twice summoned to the window by Alessa. Each time what they saw served to terrify them even more, but also confirmed they needed to get moving.

The death-walkers had entered some of the properties, finding a way inside, through the doors and past the barricades. People flocked from their homes, running in fear. They were easy pickings, including the Pakistani man and his family. He was dragged from the shop by his turban, which unravelled as the undead tore at him. For a while, it saved his life, but his escape was halted when two quarrelling corpses ripped his son in half. His tender frame tore down the middle, sending his organs spilling into the road. The creatures descended on the spilled innards, and while they were busy shoving the juicy morsels into their ravenous mouths, the man simply walked towards them and offered himself as their main course.

“We had better stay here one more night. We can each take a watch, just to make sure the place stays secure through the night. Downstairs, in the shop. We should all try to get some rest.”

They all agreed, and Jack offered to take the first watch. Nobody argued with him, but as he walked downstairs into the shop, the gloom of twilight casting long shadows on everything, he cursed himself for being so openly helpful.

He sat by the door, having found a nice enough chair in the back office but suitably uncomfortable so as not to promote sleep.

He held the bloody cleaver in one hand, and had the ball hammer lying across his lap. He had cleaned that one up as best he could, peeling away the drying sections of scalp that were still stuck to it.

He hunted around trying to find the gun that Steve had used to end the old woman who had come so close to ending him, but it was not to be seen.

A good thing too, he reasoned. He had never handled a firearm before, but even he understood that using it was a last resort, for it would draw attention to them. It was certainly not a weapon to give a man who sat on the edge of panic, jumping at every bump and scratch that came from the outside.

Evening came and went, and darkness descended. Jack made the decision himself not to turn on any lights. The death-walkers seemed to be largely ignoring the butchers, clearly their nose for flesh only catered to the still living, as otherwise the selection of raw meats would have driven them wild.

There were plenty of screams that rang out, more so as the night fell, but Jack made no move to investigate. There was a time and a place to play the hero, and a fine line between being just that and being a fool.

It was midnight when Steve came down the stairs. He was carrying a thermos can of coffee, and smiled at Jack as he clapped him on the back. They stood together for a few moments. Neither speaking, there was no need. It would only serve to excite the gathered crowd.

Jack made his way back up the stairs, only stumbling once as he crossed the back room. His eyes had adjusted to the dark of the front of the shop, but as he made his way up the stairs, and the doorway closed behind him, the blackness became total.

There were three candles burning in the flat upstairs. One in the kitchen, and one on the table by the sofa. The other could be seen flickering in the bedroom.

Jack looked around but saw no sign of Alessa. Assuming she had taken the bedroom, Jack crossed to the sofa and sat down. He looked out over the road. The street lamps were out. He hadn’t even thought of that while downstairs. The darkness was hard-core, yet he could still see them moving around. The world was silent, and it made him shudder. Many of the houses had followed their idea of killing the lights to avoid unwanted attention, but there were more than enough who still had everything burning.

As he sat there, Jack couldn’t help but wonder how many of those homes would still be unharmed in the morning.

Movement startled him. Jack snapped his head away from the window. He caught the sound of his shock, but was sure his sudden, jerked movement gave away the image of the cool, calm, and collected man of the group.

“I’m sorry,” Alessa said, standing in the doorway of the bedroom. She was holding the candle in front of her. The flame creating a dancing glow that lit up her face and made her eyes light up.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Jack answered, making sure he kept his voice down.

“I was not asleep. I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see their faces. The, what did you call them, dead-walkers?” She remained standing where she was.

“Death-walkers. It’s kind of a silly name, I know.”

“No, it is good. I mean, it’s true.” Alessa smiled, her lips highlighted by the flickering light.

“You should try to get some sleep. If we are going to do this, then we might not get the chance to rest for a long time,” Jack said, while his mind pointed out that if it went wrong, they may all be taking a very long nap in the not-too-distant future.

“I … I don’t want to be alone. Will you join me?” There was a tone of sadness in Alessa’s words that made Jack melt.

“Sure,” he said, feeling far more nervous than he would.

Moving across the room, Jack followed Alessa into the bedroom. A double bed occupied the centre and a large screen television occupied the main wall. For the rest, there was a wardrobe and a chest of drawers. The room was every much that of a serial single man.

Alessa got onto the bed and slid beneath the covers. Jack followed suit. It was cool in the flat, and the blanket offered a warmth that came closer to a secure embrace than anything else at that moment in time.

The candle flickered on the chest of drawers, casting long shadows through the room.

“Do you think we will make it?” Alessa asked, once they had settled down.

“I do,” Jack answered. He was lying stiff, not wanting to relax, and trying hard to ignore the shiver that was becoming a tremor in his body at the mere proximity to Alessa.

“How can you be so sure?” She was looking for a specific answer; Jack was too.

“Because if we don’t, we will be dead by this time tomorrow.” They were the words that they both oddly needed to hear.

Their situation was not a road trip, not a question of trying and seeing where things led. It was a matter of life and death, a simple equation that changed the rules of the game.

Silence fell. Jack wasn’t sleepy, but found a comfort in listening to Alessa’s gentle breathing.

“How long have you been with your girlfriend?” she asked, breaking the silence, and making Jack jump just a little.

“A while. She … it’s …” Jack stammered, trying to find the right words.

“She’s very lucky,” Alessa said, rolling onto her side to face Jack. “I don’t think anybody would ever come and rescue me.”

Jack rolled onto his side to face her, their legs and feet touching beneath the blanket.

“Well, I will. If anything happens, I will always come back for you.” They both froze. “Steve would too, because we are a team.”

Jack felt the shudder as he once again rushed through his words. Alessa smiled at him, her nose wrinkling just a little as she did.

“Goodnight, Jack,” she said, and with that, drifted off to sleep.

Jack did not think he would be able to sleep, not anymore, not with the raging torrent of thoughts and emotions swimming through his head, but he was wrong. A few moments after Alessa, Jack followed her into slumber.

When Jack woke, he did so slowly. Coming up from sleep like a swimmer rising back to the surface after a dive. It was smooth, and controlled. He felt awake, he felt alert and rested. It took a moment for everything to filter through. Where he was, who he was with.

He jumped, but kept it a mental reaction, keeping his body still so as not to wake Alessa. They lay together in bed, Jack’s body curled around hers. She had her back to him, her body pushing against his. Their hands were clasped, fingers intertwined.

Pulling his hands away gently, Jack rolled to get out of bed. He was as quiet as possible and made it out of the room and into the main body of the flat without causing too much noise. The sun was starting to light up the horizon. The street looked quiet. The undead still milled about, but seemed to be void of any direction or purpose. Jack interpreted this to mean it was all quiet for the rest. They would change that soon.

He got to work in the kitchen making coffee, strong coffee, the way his roommate Terry used to make it. He paused, wondering if Terry was alive, somehow. He hoped so but feared the worst. He was sure that Sue was alive. There was no way even a brainless, flesh-munching member of the risen dead would want to sink its teeth into something as bitter as her.

The thought made him smile and feel impossibly guilty at the same time.

“Good morning.”

The voice came from behind him.

Alessa stood in the light of the rising sun, and as she stretched, Jack felt something else start to rise. He turned away and got back to the breakfast. He found a large platter of bacon in the fridge, the power to which was still running. He wondered how long it would be until that all changed and they were well and truly thrown back into the times of old.