The Undead. The First Seven Days (3 page)

I look at the gas hobs and think about the hot water.
  Then I remember reading books about medieval times when they would pour hot oil from castles onto the invaders.
  I find a bottle of vegetable oil in the cupboard and then realise that all my saucepans are now in the front garden. I have nothing left to use to heat the oil! My microwave is still there, but I have no pots or bowls.
  I think of throwing the microwave, but I know it’s useless now, it might drop two of them at best, but that still leaves lots more.

I go back into the lounge and over to the window. I gave up smoking a few weeks ago and I think of how much I would enjoy a smoke right now.
 My lighter is still in the corner of the window sill…
  I can’t smoke… but I can drink! Going back into the kitchen, I see a bottle of brandy on top of the fridge. I didn’t think to grab it in my hunt for missiles. I take the bottle back to the lounge window, watching the undead beneath me as I raise the bottle, and, as I do so, I glimpse the lighter and lower the bottle from my lips.
  Brandy is flammable… right?

So I could use it like a Molotov cocktail… it might burn the house down but I’m almost dead already - it’s only a matter of time before they get in.
  I dash into the bedroom and tear some strips from my pillowcase, stuffing them into the brandy bottle to soak up the amber liquid, then I pull them out. I’ve seen this done in movies and feel confident of just how to do it - you light the end and, once it’s burning, you throw the bottle… easy.
  Back at the lounge window, I have the bottle with some brandy-soaked strips of material hanging out of the top. I take the lighter and look down into the crowd.

Here goes.

I light the end, as I shout: ‘Here you are fuckers. Have some brandy!’
  I light the wick as I give my cool one-liner, but the wick flares instantly and bursts into flames. In my panic, I throw the bottle down into the crowd, it hits one on the head and bounces down and the strong glass remains unbroken, as the fall is cushioned by the stupid fat-head that it struck.
  That’s it! My last good idea cocked up. But, within a few seconds, I see smoke coming up from the crowd, then a whooshing noise and there are flames shooting up.
  The brandy has caught and is on fire beneath the crowd. It’s only in a small, confined space, but I can see the black smoke and I watch as the flames cause them all to move about; they can’t escape because of the press of bodies pushing forward.
  A couple of them are on fire now, flames licking up as clothing catches alight. I can’t tell if it bothers them as all they can do is stand still.
  This is disgusting. I thought it would be good to watch them burn, but it’s still a human form on fire and it makes me feel sick. The smell is awful; a mixture of alcohol and burning flesh.
  I start to gag and move away from the window as thick, black smoke billows up into the lounge.  I’m coughing and retching, bent over, puking up bile and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

I hear a car horn and try to look out of the window, but the smoke is too much, so I go into the bedroom and pull the curtains down.
 In the middle of the road is an armoured security van.
  The van is stationary and, as I open the window, I hear the engine ticking over. The horn is pressed and I watch as the bodies jerk round and start to move towards the van. I wave my arms and shout: ‘Over here!’

I keep yelling and I watch as the crowd starts to turn and move away, towards the van.
  They continue to break away, charging at the van, which rolls forward a short distance and carries on sounding the horn. The undead move faster, stumbling and jerking after the van.
  I look down and can see that the crowd is thinning. There are a couple of bodies on fire on the ground and one undead has just caught alight, but is still moving away towards the van, which sounds the horn repeatedly and keeps rolling forward.
  I see more of the undead in the road behind the van. There is a massive crowd coming up the road following it; they are going from my house and joining the crowd as they chase the van.
  The van waits for them to get close, then rolls forward a few more feet. I watch as the undead crowd get close, then the reverse lights come on and it goes backwards at speed, slamming into the dense crowd and causing a backwards ripple effect into the horde, as the front of the crowd loses its forward momentum. Then the van shoots forward again and continues with the horn.
  There are undead bodies on the ground that were crushed by the reversing vehicle, getting more trampled on as the crowd staggers over them.
  They are pouring out of my front door and into the road. The van slowly moves away, still sounding the horn - like the pied piper of the undead.
  I watch as more and more undead file past my house in the wake of the van. The fat man is with them, still waddling along then, after a few minutes, it goes quiet.

I wait at the window, the van’s noise moving further away.
 Stunned and silent, the after effect of the excitement and adrenalin have left me shaken and my hands tremble as I cover my face, reeling from all that has happened.
  I know I can’t stay here, it isn’t safe.  They have gone for now, but they could come back.
  There were so many of them honing in on me. How did they all know that I was here? The undead can’t think… or can they? Was it an instinct…a signal they emit to each other like a super organism? I have no idea, but I do know that I have to leave now. 
  My parents live about a fifteen-minute drive away.  I live in Boroughfare, a small coastal town.  Brighton is not too far away and London is a two hour drive - that’s where my sister is.  She took a job as a PA for a banking company a few years ago.
  My parents have a detached house in a nice, quiet area.  They always go to bed early and I know they lock the doors, so maybe they are okay.
  My mind is made up… I will head across town to my parents house.

I look at my watch, it’s almost 4.30 a.m. As it is mid-July, I know that the sun will be up in half an hour or so.
 I need to get moving, while it’s quiet. I don’t own a car, so unless I can find something to drive, I will have to walk.

I go back to the hallway and look at barricade; I don’t know if any of them are left out there. I think about removing the barricade, but I’m too scared of what I might find.
  I go back into my bedroom and pull the sheet from the bed, then another sheet from the airing cupboard and I tie them together with a duvet cover.  I go to the window and look outside, to make sure they are not there.
  The lounge window overlooks the main door, so if I climb down the lounge window I won’t be able to see if they are in the communal hallway.  The bedroom window is a few feet away and will give me a chance to run, if they come out of the front door.

I tie the bed sheet onto the leg of my double bed and drop the sheets down - they reach to a couple of feet above the ground.
  I go back into the lounge and pick up the large kitchen knife. I put this into my belt, with the blade resting against my leg.  No way! If I fall or slip it will impale me! I need a sheath, but kitchen knives don’t have sheaths. I find the small rucksack that I use for work and put the knife into the main compartment, leaving the top open and then I try to wedge the knife into the top zip - so that the handle is left out, with the blade in the bag.
  I then put the bag on my back, but it hangs down too low - I can’t reach the handle. I tighten the straps and raise the bag further up my back, and now I can reach the handle.
  In the kitchen drawer there is a claw hammer, and I put this into my belt; at least I have something that I can use. I think back to that man during the night, hitting the undead with the stick.  He hit them hard and they got knocked away, but they came back. So I know that hitting them won’t kill them, but maybe it will buy me a few seconds to run.
  I go back to the bedroom window and start to climb over the sill, grasping the bed sheets with both hands. I wait, sitting astride the window ledge, listening and looking up and down; no noise and no movement. The night’s veil is just starting to lift, only a few minutes until sun up. I don’t know if that is a good thing or not.

I need to go but I’m scared.

The final act of leaving the safety of my home is almost too much for me to contemplate. Then I look down at the still smouldering remains of the undead; blood and carnage everywhere. A few bodies are lying still, they must have been the ones I knocked down when the crowd was pushing forward - they have been trampled to death, but then they were
already
dead, so they have been trampled to death again… what do you call that? How can they be killed twice?
   I guess that maybe the injuries were too much for the bodies to keep functioning, but then I think of the one I had seen crawling across the ground with his innards falling out.

The spine? It must be that the spine was broken as they went down, maybe their neck was snapped by all of the undead feet driving down on them.

I have to go.

I get over the ledge, until my feet are hanging down, then I start to lower myself with my hands.
     I feel extremely vulnerable now with my legs dangling beneath me and I keep looking down, left and right, as I lower myself; imaging that one of them will come out of the door and bite into my ankle and drag me down to my death.

I can feel the panic rising and try to go faster, and, within seconds, my feet are banging against the window of the downstairs flat.

I lower myself down, until my feet hit the window ledge, then a bit more and I drop to the ground.
   As soon as I am down, I move away from the building into the road; the hammer out of my waistband and in my hand.
  At ground level, I get a close up view of the frenzied attacks; blood stains everywhere. Some of the blood has started to congeal, but the larger pools are still wet.

A white car is parked just a few feet away, with bloody handprints smeared across the bonnet.
  A crash occurs behind me and I see one of the undead stagger out from my front door, slipping on the wet blood, but coming straight at me.

I am off, running fast.

I look back and he is still coming, but he is further back. I am outrunning him as his jerky motion cannot keep up. I keep sprinting, until I feel my lungs will burst and my legs hurt. I slow down and look back, but he is gone from sight.
  I keep walking fast. The quickest route is straight through town and down the High Street, then off onto the main road.

I keep to the middle of the road, looking left and right and behind me; my ears straining for any noise.

A few minutes later, I reach a side street that feeds into the town centre. I go slower until I reach the building line. The sun is almost up now, as the night sky gradually ebbs away.
  I can hear birds singing and seagulls are flying overhead. I move cautiously, one step at a time as the High Street comes more into view.
  To the right is clear, but the left isn’t and my heart sinks as I see an enormous crowd of undead. They are gathered around the armoured van that had led them away from my house.
  The van is in the middle of the road, but I can’t see why it stopped - it doesn’t look like it crashed. The van is surrounded now; maybe there were just too many bodies to drive through.
  I watch as a roof hatch opens and a man climbs out. He stands on the roof of the vehicle looking down at the crowd of undead as they swarm around him, some raising their arms up, like fans at a rock concert.

He looks over to me and I stand still, unsure of what to do.
 
  ‘RUN,’ he shouts at me.
  I take a step forward and he shakes his head: ‘NO, RUN… RUN NOW.’
  I don’t know what to do, he saved my life but he is trapped now and I can’t get to him. I can’t just leave him to his death.

We stare at each other as the massive crowd of undead gather at his feet.
   The man is still shouting at me to run and his voice is loud but calm; his movements steady and controlled.
  How can he be so calm? I was the complete opposite when they surrounded my house. I screamed abuse and threw cups at them!
  I can’t just leave him here to his certain death. I look round, frantically trying to see something that will give me inspiration. Maybe I could get a vehicle and do the same as he did - lure them away with the sound of a horn.
  I look back at the van and can see that there are hundreds of undead surrounding him, spread out in a wide circle, all pushing forward.
  The man is high up on the top. If the undead at the front get trampled down, that will give height to the next row as they push forward.
  There are a few vehicles parked up nearby and I move towards them, keeping to the building line; my movements slow and guarded.
  I get to the closest car, but it’s locked and secure. This is the town centre and no one in their right mind would leave a car unlocked here. I check other cars nearby, but they are all locked too.
  Nearly all of the buildings are closed but some lights are on in shop windows, illuminating the goods on display.
  There is a pizza take-away place a little further up the street; they do local delivery that I’ve used countless times. They must have been open, it was only a few hours ago on Friday evening when it all happened and the pizza place normally stays open until at least midnight.
  I look up and can see that the sky is now much lighter; the sun is almost up. Another few minutes and it will be daylight.
  As I look towards the pizza restaurant, I spot a moped lying on its side outside; the distinctive white delivery box on the back. Before I know what I’m doing, I am running over, and, as I get closer, I see blood on the floor, next to the moped.
  I can’t tell if there is blood on the red frame or black seats but I can see that the keys are still in the ignition.