The Undead. The First Seven Days (66 page)

BOOK: The Undead. The First Seven Days
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‘So… we got this far and then found your truck blocking the road, and if we can’t get through, then I guess we’ll have to go round.’
  Chris leans back against a wall and finishes the bottle of water.
  ‘I see, well it all seems to make sense, of course we have to be careful we don’t let a load of armed soldiers in here, without finding out who they are first,’ Chris says.
  ‘Honestly, we’re not soldiers,’ Howie protests.
  ‘Lads, you’re driving an Army vehicle, carrying Army guns and dressed like soldiers - he called you Mr Howie which shows me there is some element of control and discipline within your group. So…  you are soldiers,’ Chris explains, clearly.
  ‘Yeah… I guess so,’ Howie agrees reluctantly. ‘What about you? How did all this come about?’ Howie asks, eager to find out.

Chris leans forward to speak, but Howie interrupts him.
  ‘Mate, I’m so sorry, but I just realised my lads are sat in the vehicle out there and it’s sweltering. Can they come through?’ Howie asks quickly.
  ‘Well, they can - but not with their weapons,’ Chris says, looking directly at Howie.
  ‘I understand, what will happen to the weapons and vehicle if they leave it there?’ Howie asks.
  ‘I can guarantee that it won’t be touched. I can have one of my men drive it in and you’re welcome to have your men near it, but not in it and I will have my men nearby too.’ Chris says, firmly.
  ‘I understand Chris, but we can’t afford to lose that vehicle or weapons, it’s the only chance we’ve got of getting through to the City.’ Howie counters.
  ‘Sorry Howie, family is important I understand that, but I’ve got over two thousand people relying on me for safety and security, and I don’t think they’ll be impressed if I let a bunch of armed soldiers in here.’
  ‘They’re just lads, Chris - only eighteen years old, apart from Dave.’
  ‘Dave?’ Chris asks.
  ‘You’ll meet Dave, he’s… er… different, an exceptional man, just a bit different.’ Howie says and Chris leans back, staring at Howie as he thinks.
  ‘Tell you what, let me and some of my men come out and check you all over first, the slightest whiff of bother though and, well I think you’ll know what will happen, is that fair?’ Chris offers.
  ‘Sounds more than fair to me,’ Howie says, looking at Blowers, who nods in agreement.

A few minutes later, the truck is being pulled forward to save Big Chris having to crawl under it. Damien is still near the Saxon, staring at the windscreen from a few feet away.
  ‘Who’s he?’ Howie asks, as they walk out towards the Saxon.
  ‘Damien? He’s all right, can be a bit of a pest, but he’s good at this sort of thing, he hasn’t got a confrontational bone in his body - so he’s ideal as a messenger for anyone that looks a bit naughty.’ Chris chuckles.

A few armed men walk behind them, holding weapons ready, but aimed down, to show they are not a threat, yet. Howie is impressed by the control and discipline.

Back at The Saxon, Howie walks with Chris and holds his hand up to Dave, motioning for him to come out.

Dave opens the driver’s door and Howie calls for him to come out, unarmed. Dave pauses for a few seconds and puts down his rifle and pistol.
  ‘Chris, this is Dave, Dave this is Big Chris,’ Howie introduces them and smiles as they shake hands and Dave quickly wipes his hand down his trouser leg.
  ‘Lads, come out the back, but leave the weapons inside for a minute, make sure none of you is armed,’ Howie calls out and hears shuffling noises as the lads move to the back of the Saxon and the rear doors open.

They climb out stiffly, with red, sweating faces.
  ‘That thing’s an oven,’ Cookey moans, as he steps down.
  ‘I left the air on for you,’ Howie answers him.
  ‘Dave switched it off, worried about the fuel,’ Cookey says, but is careful to show respect when mentioning Dave.

The lads walk round to the side as Howie introduces them one by one. Chris takes the time to shake hands with them all, then excuses himself and walks round the back to look in the rear doors, coming back after a few minutes of close examination.
  ‘Okay Howie, you can come through, but it would make me feel a lot better if the weapons stayed in the vehicle.’ Chris says, finally.
  ‘I’m not sure, mate. It all seems genuine, but, like I said, we can’t afford to lose them.’ Howie states.
  ‘I understand, I guarantee they won’t be touched by anyone inside. I’ll have my men guard it.’ Chris offers.
  ‘How about a few of yours and a couple of mine?’ Howie says, smiling at Chris. ‘That way, we both feel better.’

Chris laughs, with genuine amusement.
  ‘If that makes you feel better, then okay, but I don’t know what a couple of yours will do against the many we have in there,’ Chris laughs.
  ‘Ah, keeps the lads busy, if nothing else,’ Howie chuckles back to the groans from the recruits.
  ‘Okay, come on through then, I’ll get the truck pulled forward.’
  ‘Curtis, can you drive it through? Blowers and Cookey, you’re first up on guard duty. Get your weapons now but for fuck’s sake keep them lowered and fingers away from the triggers, got it?’

They nod back, as Curtis climbs back into the vehicle and through to the driver’s seat.

Blowers and Cookey both collect their weapons and hold them ready, but lowered, as instructed.
  ‘You happy with this, Dave?’ Howie asks, as he falls into step with Dave.
  ‘If you are, Mr Howie,’ Dave replies.
  ‘It looks really nice inside, wait until you see it.’
  They walk through the gap left by the truck and down the narrow lane. Dave and Howie follow Chris, flanked by some of the armed men. The Saxon is following slowly behind them with Blowers and Cookey just in front of it.

Howie glances back and catches them walking at a steady pace, looking about and smiling at the other armed guards.
They do look like real soldiers,
Howie thinks and is glad he chose those two to take first guard. Their easy manner and banter will show them in a non-threatening manner.
  The lane ends and the lads all stare in amazement at the surreal scene in front of them. They follow Chris over to the wooden benches outside the pub and, within minutes, they are sitting down in the shade, drinking bottles of water.
  ‘Thanks for that, Chris, they won’t be any bother to you, I promise,’ Howie says, in earnest.
  ‘They seem good lads - young though,’ Chris rubs his chin as he stares at the recruits.
  ‘So, you were saying how all this came about,’ Howie reminds him.
  ‘I was… well I was born and raised here, I know pretty much everyone and they know me. I was in this boozer when it started and we got some rough lads that drink in here, lads that can handle themselves - if you know what I mean. So we were able to keep them away, more people joined us in the pub and we fought out and cleared this street here first. Then, as more people arrived, we pushed out and kept gaining ground. We didn’t attack them as much as remove them. I worked on the principal of securing ground and preventing them getting back in. We used local resources to form barriers and barricades and, over the next few days, we found ways of getting our people in and out safely. Then a couple came back bitten and risked everyone else, so we put the vetting procedures in place. We were lucky, as we’ve got a few doctors and nurses and ex-Army medics with us, they are setting up a little hospital. We send foraging parties out during the day with strict instructions not to engage, unless absolutely necessary - their primary function is to gather supplies: medicines, equipment, fuel, food - all the things we need to survive. Even the doctors have no idea how long this will last, so the plan is to keep secure and try to wait it out.’ Chris finishes.
  ‘And you’re in charge of all this?’ Howie asks and Chris ponders the question.
  ‘Yes, I am. But only in the sense of putting the right people in the right places and making sure the area is secure. Lads, I come from a hard background, I served in the Forces and then fell into some not very nice things. I’ve had all sorts of jobs and I guess I was just in the right place at the right time when this happened.’
  ‘What were you in?’ Dave asks, the first time he has spoken since they sat down.
  ‘I was in the Parachute Regiment, but that was years ago. I did some other stuff with other departments and worked overseas for a while, helping teach guerrilla tactics. Like I said, I came out and did some naughty things and served a bit of time. What were you in?’ Chris returns the question to Dave.
  ‘I was Special Forces,’ Dave answers and Howie almost spits his drink out in surprise. Dave has always answered: “I can’t say” when anyone has asked him that.
  ‘I thought you were,’ Chris says. ‘I met a few of them, worked with a few too. Mind you most Special Forces never say they were Special Forces.’ Chris says, staring intently at Dave.
  ‘I don’t normally, but I can see the regimental tattoo on your arm, and you wouldn’t get that without actually serving. The Regiment lads would never let that happen. I’ve met your lads before and they all have that same look about them too.’ Dave responds, holding direct eye contact with Chris.
  ‘How many exits have you noted?’ Chris asks, without looking away.
  ‘There are four immediately obvious. One, the way we came in, but your people are still on those high sides, providing a perfect ambush site, so that exit is negated. My assumption from the way these people are walking about is that the exit points are secure with armed men. Two, these buildings are deep and would lead out into the area you have not secured, and you would be using the natural building line as a barrier. Those windows and doors would lead out. Three, these buildings have connecting roofs, which could be used to move from one to the other, to a non-secure area.’ Dave finishes, still staring back.
  ‘What’s four?’ Howie asks, they both remain silent for a few seconds, before Chris replies:  ‘I’m four - you take me and you could walk out untouched,’ He slowly smiles.
  ‘You have a mixture of weapons, and have used the rifles as sniper points, keeping the shotguns further back to make use of the power and keep a clear firing line. The armed people patrolling this area are made up of services and police. The services people hold their weapons in a permanent state of readiness, with the fingers stretched over the trigger guard. The police walk differently, with a steady tread, due to the fact they spend long periods on patrol. You covered the road signs to keep people
or those things
confused as to where they were going. You strung the already dead bodies up and the heads on spikes to show any possible other survivors that you were not to be messed with, and to send a clear signal to any potential invaders.’ Dave says flatly, to an enormous grin spreading across Chris’s face.
  ‘Okay okay, well done - you’ve convinced me,’ Chris laughs and finally breaks away from Dave’s intense stare.
  ‘I see what you mean,’ Chris says to Howie, nodding towards Dave. ‘The heads and hanged body’s send a strong signal, but most of them were dead already. Like I said, I don’t go actively looking for them.’
  ‘Are they stacked up at the exits?’ Howie asks.
  ‘Some of them are, massive crowds of them, a few of our exits have been kept quiet though and we use our people to lure them away, when they get too many.’
  ‘So, what have you heard about the City?’ Howie asks.
  ‘It’s a few miles from here, and completely over run. Where is your sister?’
  ‘Canary Wharf,’ Howie replies.
  ‘That’s going to be hard, very hard. None of us have ventured that deep. I know most of the roads that way are infested.’
  ‘Well, we have the Saxon and plenty of ammunition, so we should get through.’ Howie says, watching Chris, who seems deep in thought.
  ‘Have you thought about your route in?’ He asks eventually.
  ‘We have a road atlas, we’ll work from that,’ Howie replies.
  ‘Right… I’m thinking of something here, we might be able to help each other out,’ Chris says slowly. ‘Come with me, I want you to meet someone.’ He gets up and starts walking away from the bench.

Howie and Dave shrug at each other and follow him out from under the shade of the parasol and into the hot sun again.
  ‘Stay here lads, we’ll be back soon.’ Howie says, as the recruits all start getting to their feet.
  ‘Are you all right Darren? You don’t look well mate,’ Howie stops in front of him, asking with concern at the pale and sweating face of Darren Smith.
  ‘I’m fine, Mr Howie, just this heat, I think,’ Darren replies, wiping at his forehead.
  ‘Get plenty of fluids, mate - you might be dehydrated. Stay in the shade too.’ Howie walks off with Dave, following Chris down the street, past the big Victorian buildings and the groups of people walking through the area.
  They reach a side street and see the end is fully blocked off with stacked vehicles and other items forming a high and substantial barricade. Armed guards watch from over the barricade, out of open windows, on the adjacent buildings.
  ‘If we don’t make the Forts, this wouldn’t be a bad second choice,’ Howie says to Dave as they follow Chris further up the street.
  ‘Seems nice, Mr Howie.’ Dave agrees.
  Chris stops at the doorway to a large building and pushes the door open. Two armed guards are outside, leaning against the wall, smoking cigarettes.
  ‘Come in here lads,’ Chris walks into the gloom of the building, followed by Howie then Dave.

BOOK: The Undead. The First Seven Days
2.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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