The Undead Day Twenty (8 page)

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Authors: RR Haywood

BOOK: The Undead Day Twenty
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‘So what now?’ Howie asks. ‘They came from that way,’ he says, pointing in the direction Mo indicated. ‘But came through here…they must have gone up to that stable…’

‘Really?’ Marcy asks, staring at Howie. ‘We said that. We said Subi said that. We said they came through the hedge across the field to the stable and out through the gate. We’ve got a bloody map that says that.’

‘Then why are we down here?’ Howie asks. ‘We should be up there…everyone back to the stables.’

They head back across the furrowed field, tripping and cursing over the valleys and troughs made by a tractor that will forever now lie silent until it rusts away to become nothing more than a heap of slag.

‘This is another morning without coffee isn’t it,’ Howie asks, making a statement more than asking a question.

‘Flasks,’ Paula says, clicking her fingers. ‘We’ll get flasks.’

‘Flasks?’ Howie asks, looking down the line to Paula.

‘Flasks. For the storage of hot beverages.’

‘That’s a good idea,’ Clarence says.

‘I had a good flask,’ Roy says. ‘Stayed hot for hours.’

‘Yeah?’ Howie asks.

‘Come a long way flasks have,’ Roy replies knowingly.

‘We should get flasks,’ Howie says. ‘Nick? Can we rig a hot water thing in the Saxon?’

‘Er…Roy’s van will be easier.’

‘Hey now,’ Paula says, nodding in admiration. ‘Good idea that, Mr Howie.’

‘Thanks, Miss Paula.’

‘Nick, Roy…you are tasked to get hot water in Roy’s van,’ she says, turning to look at them both.

‘Maybe I don’t want hot water in my van.’

‘We’ll add it to Reggie’s duties…other than being the brains of the team he can brew up.’

‘Good Lord I will do no such thing…’

Mindless. It’s mindless words spewing from mouths talking shit. Maddox listens, turning to each as they add increasingly stupid comments while walking across a bloody field after staring at dead bodies for ten minutes. Is this it? Is this what they do? He watched them when they found the bodies and the lack of any shred of reaction to the torn up human forms laying at their feet. Maddox has seen and given death but even so, even he felt repulsed by the sight. They didn’t. They didn’t show anything. Now they’re talking about flasks and a hot water urn in that cash in transit van.

Blowers smiles at the thought. A hot water urn in Roy’s van is the best idea they’ve had for days. They can brew up wherever they go. You can’t put a price on the morale boost brewing up gives. The making of it, the communal drinking and the idle chat. Nothing beats a brew up.

‘Is it hard to rig up?’ he asks.

‘Easy enough,’ Roy replies. ‘It drains power though.’

‘Not from the main battery,’ Nick says. ‘The split charges the back up and that lasts for fucking ages.’

‘What about that Tassimo Lilly had?’ Howie asks. ‘Would that work?’

‘He’s on fire this morning,’ Marcy says.

‘Someone will be if I go all day without coffee again.’

Maddox hides his scowl. Blowers chuckles. They walk across the field.

Four

 

‘Shit…Charlie…stay with her… everyone else back to the vehicles.’

Charlie canters on down the road, following Meredith as she runs from the gate into the country lane following the scent trail hovering in the middle of the road. She knows it’s him. He smells different now. Like Marcy and Reginald. Different like that but it’s him. She has to find him. She runs on sucking air up her nose into the filters in her brain that breaks those smells down to a molecular level.

Blowers breathes out, feeling the small pulse of adrenalin at having to something to go after. He goes to make a comment but stops at the sight of Maddox opposite him in the back of the Saxon. The smile fades. The humour drains from his eyes. Lani didn’t deserve that. Not like that. Lani might have turned back regardless of what happened but she should have been with her team. Not isolated and left on her own. Soldiers don’t ditch their mates. Maddox is a street brawler and a hard man but he isn’t a soldier. Soldiering isn’t just about fighting. Soldiering is professional. It’s structure and knowing your place in the machine. Why the fuck did the boss bring him? He knows why. He knows exactly what the boss was thinking. Paula too otherwise she’d have said something. They all know it. They were thinking that this will be good for Maddox and show him how it’s meant to be done. Teach him some respect or something. He needs it but he still shouldn’t be here. Not with them. Not after what he did.

‘What will you do when you find him?’ Maddox asks once everyone settles.

Silence comes back. An unwillingness to reply. Paula tuts, casting a look at the lads. ‘We’ll figure it out when it happens.’

Maddox nods, his face remaining impassive which conveys an air of disapproval at the lack of a plan.

‘Marcy and Reggie were turned,’ Paula explains. ‘If Paco was turned but now turning back then he could be like them…same with that woman Heather. That girl said Heather was bit but carried on fighting…’

‘Ssshhh,’ Blowers says, ‘Maddox might lock him in the hospital.’

‘Away from his mates,’ Nick adds, looking down to the back doors.

‘And tazer him like a fucking coward.’

‘Cookey, that’s enough.’

‘Roger,’ Cookey mutters.

Silence.

‘So,’ Maddox says, shuffling further back into his seat while looking at Marcy. ‘You and Reginald were both infected…but you’re not now?’

‘Don’t even look at Marcy…’

‘Cookey, enough. It was a question,’ Paula snaps.

‘We don’t know,’ Marcy says flatly, looking away.

‘But your eyes aren’t red…have you got any symptoms?’

‘What the fuck has it got to do with you?’

‘Nick! All of you pack it in. Maddox, we don’t know any answers. Reginald is trying to work it out.’

‘We shouldn’t tell him anything,’ Blowers says.

‘Lani turned. I was right…’ Maddox states, fixing his gaze on Blowers.

‘You fucking…’

‘She should have been with us,’ Cookey shouts.

‘Jesus Christ, enough!’ Paula snaps again.

‘If she’d been with us that fucking mess wouldn’t have happened…’

‘Cookey…’

‘You locked us in a room with dog shit…you took our fucking weapons away and made us crawl through a fucking tunnel…’

‘You chose that…I kept Lani isolated in case she turned which she did.’

‘If she’d been with us we would have contained it you stupid fucking prick…’

‘I did what I thought was right at the time…’

‘What happened after that?’ Nick asks quietly, driving the atmosphere down through the floor. ‘Go on? What happened after? What happened to Lilly?’

‘That wasn’t…’

‘Your crews, Maddox,’ Blowers says.

‘Darius was…’

‘Yeah cos Lani killed him like she killed Jagger…’ Nick says.

‘She turned…’

‘You best be shutting your fucking mouth…’ Nick says, his face hardening.

‘Nick, stop it…’

‘Lani turned. She was infected…’

‘You fucking…’ Blowers spits the words out.

‘She turned. She was infected. How would I know what she’d do?’

Voices shouting. The lads edging closer on their seats. Blinky grabs Nick and Cookey to push them back as Paula leans towards Blowers. Mo’s eyes flash at the mention of Jagger with the cold look of Dave on his face. Spittle flies from mouths. Accusations back and forth. Maddox fires back at them, leaning forward as Marcy pushes in front of him.

‘STAND DOWN.’

Dave’s voice. The three lads fall silent, breathing hard with pure hatred showing on their faces. Paula glares round with a rare look of disgust shown to the three young men she admires so much.

‘Not another word,’ she whispers, pointing at each in turn. ‘There will be a time for this but not now and not here. We’re working. We are at work. Do you understand?’

‘Ma’am,’ Blowers says, sinking back in his seat.

‘Cookey?’

‘Yes, Ma’am,’ he says, copying Blowers without realising he is doing so.

‘Nick?’

‘Sorry, Ma’am.’

‘Stop with the ma’am…Maddox? Not another word about Lani.’

‘Yeah…’

‘Yes, Ma’am,’ Dave says.

‘I said yeah…I ain’t one of you…’ Maddox sneers.

‘You fucking arrogant piece of…’

‘Oh for the love of God…Howie!’

‘Ah pack it in,’ Howie says calmly without turning from watching Charlie and Meredith ahead. ‘Haven’t had enough coffee yet…seriously, any more shouting and I’ll get cross.’

A switch flicked. An instant change in atmosphere. The tension eases, dropping away from a few quietly spoken words. Maddox stares at the back of Howie’s head, sensing someone watching him. He looks over to see Marcy staring at him. The woman is breath-taking in her beauty but that same coldness Mo had is right there staring through him. She finally blinks, breaking the eye contact to look over at Paula.

‘Entrance ahead…Meredith is veering towards it…hang on…yes, yes she’s going in…’

‘Yep, got it. Hold at that entrance. We’ll go in together…
Everyone hear that? Driveway ahead. We’ll pull up just back from it.
Roy? We’ll stop before the driveway and go on foot.’

‘Understood.’

‘Contact contact…one ahead…Meredith’s on him…she’s running on…HORDE…CONTACT CONTACT…’

‘OUT GO…’ Howie brings the Saxon to a slewing halt bursting from the driver’s door to drag swing his axe up and down behind his bag. His rifle already gripped as he runs to join Clarence.

‘With Blowers,’ Dave drops from the back doors to sprint on down the side. Mo backs up to give space for the rest piling out.

‘LOTS MR HOWIE…’
Charlie’s voice in their ears. Hearts thunder with beats per minute. Adrenalin courses making vision sharper and voices louder.

‘Rear guard, secure the lane…’ Blowers orders his team. ‘Roy, straight in. Marcy, Paula with me…REGGIE?’

‘Gosh I am coming…I am running I am…’

‘Stay with Mo at all times…’

‘I most certainly….’


SURVIVORS IN THE HOUSE…’

‘GO GO GO,’ Blowers shouts. As one they run. As one they sprint hard down the side of the Saxon veering sharply into the driveway. Weapons held ready. Blowers drives power into his legs to gain the front of his team. Maddox at his side. A gravel driveway underfoot. The sound of stones crunching under boots. He spots Howie, Clarence and Dave ahead slinging rifles to draw hand weapons.

‘HAND WEAPONS,’ Blowers slings his rifle and reaches back to pull his axe. The action is copied down the line. Rifles pushed back. Axes pulled free from bags. Mo draws his knife, flicking the hilt to rest the reverse side of the blade against the inside of his right forearm. His left hand on Reginald’s shoulder keeping the terrified man close.

Blowers reaches the corner of the driveway to gain the view of the big house. A split second for his expert eyes take in what the elders saw first. A thick horde between them and the big country house. The ground floor windows all boarded with thick planks. People at the upstairs windows staring down in terror. To fire into that horde risks the bullets going through into the building. A stray shot from an assault rifle will go through a wooden door and boarded window with ease. They cannot fire unless they can move to the side but both sides are blocked by the infected laying siege.

‘CHARLIE…CLEAR THE FRONT DOOR…’ Howie shouts, glancing back to make sure Blowers is close.

‘COME ON…INTO THEM,’ Charlie roars with a pulse of energy sent into the horse that rears high, kicking her front legs out before landing with a snort, bunching up and charging on with pure aggression in her eyes. The impact is beautiful. A path carved through the undead battered aside as the scarred face of Charlie screams to swing the axe side to side, chopping down to an explosion of blood and brains.

‘HAVE IT…’ Howie runs in behind them. Charging across the once perfectly manicured lawn with Dave and Clarence veering to his left and right to slam into the ranks in a desperate push for the door.

‘Marcy, Paula on Reggie…Mo with us…Roy, that shed any good?’ Blowers words fired fast and hard. Paula and Marcy drop back to cover Reginald as Mo comes forward to join the line. Roy spots the shed and the bench next to it and runs hard to vault once and vault twice to plant his legs either side of the apex on the pitch sloping roof. Arrow nocked, pulled, lifted and aimed. He fires the first shot that takes one lunging for the back of Howie through the neck.

‘OUR TARGET IS TO CLEAR THAT SIDE…’ Blowers shoots an arm out with a flat hand to the right side of the horde. ‘GO GO…’

Soldiering is the professional execution of warfare, and right now it means to charge in against a much larger opposing force and match their aggression with teeth showing and lips pulling back. It means to take that gut wrenching fear screaming in your head to run away and use it as fuel to remember your training and discipline. It means there is a time to stand back and fire from safety and there is a time to fight hand to hand and feel the hot blood of the enemy on your skin.

He goes in fast with Cookey forever at his side. The two of them cleaving with axes that fell many in that first strike. They go deeper. Side to side. Always knowing where the other is. They go hard, screaming for the pure glory of the fight. Nick comes after them, sensing the closeness of Meredith ragging bodies to his side.

‘CUNT CUNT CUNT…’ Blinky was born for this. Born to fight. Born to be a warrior. She goes in with years of hard tackling and learning fast feints to wield an axe. She takes the head of a woman from her neck and boots the body back into two more and attacks them with the same with controlled frenzy.

Mo comes in last, veering off at the last second to whip through the lines to start his attack from within. This is it. Maddox is gone from his mind. Jagger is gone from his mind. Everything apart from Dave is gone from his mind. He slashes a throat, spinning on the spot to take two more down and spots the next four targets. Mo goes to work. He spins again, going through a gap left by two lunging at him. Two flicks and they drop with throats cut. A backstab into the throat of the one behind. He lets the knife go and grabs the hand coming to rake his face. The first twist breaks the wrist. He pivots to use the held body as a shield and breaks the elbow. He pivots again, blocking the next attack while dislocating the shoulder with a motion that brings the head into his arms that is snapped quickly to the side. As that one falls he turns and plucks the knife from the throat of the one he stabbed that falls to join the others.

On the driveway two women stand with rifles braced in shoulders. Single shot selected. Behind them hides Reginald. His face a picture of fear and intense worry, his arms holding the bag of books close to his chest. One streaks out, spotting the three isolated. An arrow takes it down. Neither woman flinches but tracks and watches the battle underway. They can both fight and have proven it but they cannot match what the others can do. It isn’t sexism. It isn’t anything other than the use of skills for the job at hand and if cornered they will draw knives and show teeth but for now they will stand guard over Reginald.

Maddox stays close behind Blowers and Cookey. This is chaos. This is a high speed burst of pure instinct. He can fight. He can kill. He can think fast and make decisions under pressure, be they right or wrong, but this? This is something else. It all happened within a few seconds too. In the Saxon. Running then charging and now he’s in it. Blood everywhere. The heat is immense. The stench is indescribable. The compression is stifling. The aggression they show is staggering. He learns fast though. He learns within the first few seconds this isn’t a street fight but a fight to kill. He stabs a chest, instantly seeing the lack of reaction in the man still pushing at him with bared teeth. He twists to the side, pulling the knife free to stab into the throat. Something touches his back. He lashes round, slicing the blade across a face but again not a killing blow. He brings a knee up making the beast bend double from the impact before stabbing down into the back of the neck.

‘MADDOX…SLICE…DON’T STAB…STRIKE AND MOVE…’

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