The Zombie Evolution (11 page)

“Hello?”

              Damian darted out of the kitchen with guilty, searching eyes.

“Good morning mate!”

I exclaimed.

“What fucking time is it?”

I saw his hand shoot inside his pocket to conceal the phone before he almost comically shrugged.

“No idea pal; there’s no bloody clocks in this gaff! How’s your foot? I didn’t even hear you come down…”

That’s fucking right you didn’t.

“I had to come down slowly and carefully my friend, it still hurts like a bitch. What are you up to? Couldn’t sleep?”

“Oh I was just scouting for some breakfast, y’know”

His scrambled answer would have normally been quite believable under any normal circumstances. I mean, why wouldn’t he be looking for some food? Unless I had heard the call then I would have accepted that response before moving on, blissfully unaware.

My purposefully loud entry clearly found its way upstairs as we heard more people stirring and ultimately making their way down too. Mark immediately made an attempt to stamp his Alpha dominance as he bellowed that we need to get up and moving.

“No more sleeping”

He bawled, like a deranged ape.

“What’s the plan?”

Damian unsurprisingly piped up.

“I heard a helicopter this morning, it flew in from the other side of the barracks, which is why I woke up and was down here”

Bollocks.

“I vote we throw something loud, like one of the mop buckets or something, out of the top window towards the right. This will distract the zombies. Then we all make a break for it left, around the parameter of the barracks, around the corner enough to be out of site. We have shears which we can use to cut the barbed wired, jump the fence, and make a break for the helicopter”

Everyone went silent for a moment as they looked inanimately in thought. A few seconds of ponder passed as their gazes were lifted to meet those of one another, receiving each glance with a ‘why not’ subsided expression and increasingly animated nod. They bought it, and once more they actually liked the idea. It was vague, but it showed
hope,
something none of us had had for some time.

I thought for a moment about outing him in front of everyone, revealing his plan and letting these guys decide his fate. Having seen the madness unleashed from this whole ordeal, including Jon’s outburst and the more severe reactions of people out on the high street I felt his brutal punishment they would ensue to be justifiable karma for planning to let us all get ripped apart as he sped off to safety. But then I remembered when he said on the phone:

‘Sit tight and I will phone you to let you know when it’s all go, five minutes before action’

If I outed him, he wouldn’t phone his mate, which means his mate wouldn’t come. His mate had a car, and knew where there was a helicopter, and from the sounds of it didn’t know that we were the intended diversion so imagine he’d be just as willing to help us, perhaps with a bit of friendly persuasion. If I told the guys there’s no way there’d create the diversion anyway, especially not old cock face Mark; He’d tell us to go fuck ourselves and dart straight towards the car, and with the zombies getting quicker they’d be on his heels so rapidly he’d never make it. If they got to the car, none of us would have any chance at all; no one was quick enough on their feet nor did they have anywhere near the required stamina to get away. Ultimately, all it needed was one person to divert the zombies off in the opposite direction, and everyone else to wait for the car.

I knew what I had to do.

As everyone started filtering off to each room to suitably arm themselves in preparation for the sprint, I grabbed Phil and pulled him to one side. We subtly moved into the room I assumed was originally used as a dining room, yet it remained completely bare apart from a few remnants of random materials strewn across the carpet. The wallpaper had been torn down exposing the bare, grey walls, and the room was extremely dark bar the faint flicker of two small tea candles gracing the doorway.

With a cautious whisper, all the while making sure no-one else caught wind of what was happening, I told him what I had heard. I told him the conversation I had earwigged only moments before, I told
exactly
what Damian was up to. Phil’s expression of curiosity with regard to the reason behind me pulling him aside took a sharp switch to that of swiftly intense fury; I noticed his fists clench by his side as his lip snarled up toward his nose. He exhaled heavily in a bull like fashion, before turning in attempt to leave the room, assumedly to politely introduce Damian to his fists. Having the same reaction yet being granted time to think about the potentially detrimental ramifications, I grabbed his arm and pulled him back, pushing him against the wall.

“No”

I instructed.

“Not yet. I have a plan”

It took a few moments to calm Phil down. His vengeful pensiveness was a forceful storm to contend with, yet I knew it had to blow over, and blow over quickly to avert any suspicion that something was up. As his mood subsided he looked at me for an explanation, for a reason not to go out there and beat the living fuck out of our own personal Judas.

I took a triumphant stance, puffed my chest out and stared him directly in the eye.

“Phil”

I proclaimed.

“I am going to run left
,
as a diversion so you guys can get to the car. And I’m going to run
on my own
”

Phil looked at me in disbelief, mouth agape in shock to what he had heard. But in an instant he began chuckling, quickly transitioning into a full blown laugh, before taking a violent shove into outright hysterics, scathingly bellowing his signs of something being very fucking funny indeed, right in my face.

“What’s so funny?”

              Derek enquired as he walked past the doorway on his weapons hunt.

“I really have no idea”

I really didn’t.

He carried on his way.

“What’s so fucking funny?”

I asked, trying to quiet Phil’s laughter down and bring a sense of normality to the situation.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!”

              His words spluttered through small bursts of laughter.

“But how in the fuck are you going to outrun them?! They’re quick, maybe even quicker by now, and you can barely walk! What are you going to do, hop five yards and distract them for a mere second or two? They’ll have you and us before we even leave the front door!”

I felt a level of ingratitude, but he did have a point. I’d be caught and torn apart so quick that the diversion would be instantly rendered useless. Deflated, I lowered my head in realisation my attempt to help was completely futile, my triumph pose wilted into a sulky slope, an entirely wasted effort to both foil and utilise Damian’s plan. It was pointless to feel mad at Phil as although he had made me realise it in a particularly humiliating way, he was bang on the money, and for that it was….
almost
…laughable.

As his merriment diminished, Phil reverted back to his serious expression and grabbed my arms, glaring straight into my eyes. He had a sudden look of genuine seriousness about him, a confident intensity, completely the polar opposite to his borderline hysterical reaction only seconds before.

“Now listen”

He stated.

I’m rested, and physically I’m fine. I will cause the diversion”

I raised my hand and opened my mouth with intent to interject but was immediately stifled.

“Let me finish”

He insisted.

“I will cause the diversion, I will run left screaming and squawking and making as much of a spectacle of myself as necessary to get that wave of zombies to chase me. I want to leave the house first, and as I do, you stop the others. You wait until we are far enough away that everyone, including you with your foot, can make it to the car. You need to control them, you need to calm them, you need to assure them that what you’re doing will save them. Do not tell them the plan until the last minute as this is not up for discussion; I don’t want to be stopped, I don’t want anyone else deciding they were going to take on the task; this is
my
destiny now. Don’t even think about me; I will run as hard and as fast as I can, circling through the edge of the woods, and I will do everything I possibly can to get to you, to get to the car. If I don’t, if you can’t see me but you can see danger, drive away. Don’t look back, just go and get everyone to safety. I will do this for you guys because I love all of you, and I have faith that I can make it back to you. They’re not that fucking quick yet!”

My attempts at argument were fruitless, trying to think of another way or pleading that it still be me that causes the distraction being dismissed. Phil had made up his mind, and knowing him as well as I did, I knew when that foot was down there was no way of lifting it back up. This was now the plan, and I just had to make sure I extended enough courtesy to correctly execute my part; my marching orders were clear and concise. I nodded reluctantly, a tear dwelling the corner of my eye. I tried to reassure myself he’d make it and my concerns were unjust, but to only expect a positive outcome from this, or one where we all make it out including Phil would have been naïve to say the least.

“One thing”

Phil pointed his finger at me, retaining the intense gaze from the blacks of his eyes to mine.

“Tell Bri I love her, and that I went out in a blaze of glory…with machine guns…and a tank...maybe even a jet pack. Like, I caused absolute fucking anarchy and blew thousands of the zombies away. Tell her I went out like Rambo if he had a part in Dawn of the Dead”

With a subtle chortle, I wholeheartedly agreed. If for whatever reason he didn’t make it, Bri would know his perhaps slightly fabricated tale of heroism.

8.

“Five minutes!”

              Damian shouted through the house.

Everyone reappeared armed to the tits with bats, bits of wood, shards of metal, knives and anything else they could strap to their bodies. We all looked badass, and if there was any point in taking a picture this would have been a prime opportunity for an awesome visual memento. In the darkness of downstairs, we were all ready to give them hell. Damian scurried off exclaiming his need for a trip to the bathroom before the exile. I saw his hand reach into his pocket before the bathroom door closed, and darted my vision to meet that of Phil’s as he shared the same disgusted expression. Regardless, this was our evidential indication that the plan was a-go, and we now needed to stick to it.

Mark took a flashlight and signaled us toward the far wall of the living room where a window was blocked by a thick cut of wood. He yanked it back, blinding us with the penetrating rays of light freed into the room, revealing a window into a small fenced area down the side of the house where the bins were kept. It had a high wall on the back and a high gate on the front with about two metres between them, joined by an even higher wall equipped with a thick hedge. Carefully, Mark lifted the window to an open position. The muffled moans of the outside zombies suddenly become exceptionally loud and the whole thing took a harsh shove into reality. This was really scary, there were
lots
of zombies out there and even though I knew the actual plan would deviate from the current one significantly, my heart was still pounding hard through my chest. Mark pulled a step ladder from the wall and quietly erected it, before shuffling it outside the window and placed it on the concrete slabs below.

“Phil”

Stated Mark, as he pushed a metal mop bucket into Phil’s hands.

“Can you please throw this out of the upstairs window? Throw it as far as you can, this is our distraction so it has to be good”

Phil grasped the bucket and looked at me.

“Up and over”

Mark whispered.

“Up and over, and then run like Hell”

Placing his foot on the first step, Phil grabbed his shoulder and pulled him backwards, almost throwing him to the ground in the process.

“Me first, and forget the bucket”

He stipulated.

A look of befuddlement shadowed the group, including me as I attempted my best acting of having no idea of his actions.

“But….”

“ME. FIRST”

Everyone took a step back and allowed Phil his request. He got half way up the ladder and looked back to me with a permitting nod.  We both turned to face the group and swiftly blurted the plan in its shortest possible form. Before I had a chance to conclude the plan, depicting that Phil was the decoy, that he was the distraction which would hopefully enable us enough time to escape, he shot over the hedge like a soldier over the trenches in WW1.

“Phil is the diversion. He will make it back. There is a car coming to get us so wait with me”

He didn’t emit one sign of fear, just angered determination that cascaded through his body as he propelled himself over the hedge and out of sight. Jon and Derek ran to stop or follow him but I blocked the window, disallowing them any chance of catching up. The looked desperate and tearful, but I knew any change to this plan would completely ruin it. It broke my heart to see them scared for our friend without understanding what was going on, but I had to be strong, I had to keep them back, I had to make them wait until the coast was clear, or all of this was for nothing.

“How do you know there’s a car?”

              Tina barked.

“That doesn’t matter now”

              I answered, looking Damian dead in the eyes. He knew now that I had heard him, adopting a sheepish and shameful expression before averting his gaze to his feet.

“Please just trust me, wait ten more seconds and then we go”

I held the fort with all my might as the zombie anthem faded off into the distance.

“Ok, Now!”

I pulled myself up the ladder, the adrenaline disguising a majority of the pain in my foot as I hurdled over the hedge and landed in a heap on the street. Derek came over next and helped me up, closely followed by the others one by one, hurtling the fence like horses in the Grand National. We ran out onto the road, the outline of the zombie wave still visible but what seemed a hundred or so metres away already. It made me think they really were quick, and made me ever so much more anxious for Phil’s safe return. Derek threw my arm over his shoulders and aided me to run in the opposite direction just as a Silver Citroen Saxo shot up the hill and screeched to a halt a few yards ahead. I could see the outline of someone in the car who started waving his arms frantically in a ‘come here’ motion, signaling a significantly faster approach was necessitated. In his frantic motion, the silhouetted driver managed to sound the car horn; it was only once and only a quick stab of sound through the air, but the resonating noise fired into the atmosphere. All of a sudden, the moans pointed back in our path; we froze in our tracks to look back at the wave and with terror recognised the horn had drawn the attention back to us, and the wave was headed back in heavy, hungry force.

“Go!”

We ran as fast as we could, Jon throwing my other arm over his shoulders too in order to speed me up. We hurtled with intense panic toward the car, soon revealing the driver’s face who had a sincere look of bafflement occupying it. Mark approached the car first; unsuccessfully attempting to open the car’s locked doors and frantically pulling at the handles.

“Open the fucking doors!”

              He demanded, punching the windows with frustration in the process.

“Open the fucking doors NOW!”

The driver looked at Damian, who shamefacedly nodded in approval. The car locks clicked as Mark opened the back door and pushed Tina and Kate in, before diving over the back seats to lie in the boot. Jon dove in beside the girls as Derek opened the passenger door for me before diving in across the laps of those in the back. I pushed the back door shut as Damian approached me and signaled to make way so he could pile into the front. As he did I grabbed his wrist and held him back.  Staring into my eyes I saw his fear, but I also saw his remorse. Yet I knew it wasn’t remorse for what he had done, for which he was now well aware Phil and I had found out, it was remorse that he had been rumbled, his plan had been foiled and he was now facing the ramifications of his actions. I knew the fearful look through the watery glaze of his eye was because he felt he should have done more to keep his plan under wraps, to execute it with the same conviction he planned to execute all of us. And with that, I didn’t need to deliberate; I used my good foot to propel him backwards onto his arse on the tarmac of the road. Damian scrambled to all fours and looked back at me again.

“Fuck you”

I said through angered expression.

Damian shot toward the car but not before I could pull the door shut and lock it. Throwing myself over the driver I hit the central locked button, then grabbed a knife from Kate to hold up against the driver’s throat.

“Drive.”

My instruction was effectively backed up by my threat, as the driver hit the accelerator pedal on the floor with his foot. The wheels span and created smoke from the road as the back of the car whipped out to turn the vehicle back to whence it came. I took one final glance at Damian as he slowly stood to his feet, all the while staring at us, refusing to turn to face his fate, to face his
comeuppance
for what he had done, or attempted to do anyway. The wave was fast and aggressive, crashing around him like he was a rock on the beach with an incoming tide. Retaining the stance of facing us, the wave engulfed him, and as soon as it approached, Damian disappeared forever. 

The screams of disbelief from the fellow passengers sounded loud and prominent, trying to figure out the source of my actions. I appreciated to them it just looked like I had played Grim Reaper, taking Damian’s choice to live away from him, then pushed the cold blade of a sharp butcher’s knife against a stranger who had ostensibly come to rescue us. I couldn’t face their screams all at once, each noise tearing through my brain as I mentally attempted to justify what I had just done. Yet as I began to reply to their intensified questioning, I noticed a figure running through the trees to our left, with an undescriptive army copying the same action a few metres behind.

“It’s Phil!”

              A smile adopted my face, both of ecstasy and disbelief.

“Quick, stop the car!”

The driver took a look in his rear view, and despite the copious back seat residence he managed to see through the window and make out the wave, clearly unsatisfied with Damian as they were still hot on our tail. He also looked out the passenger window to see Phil running towards us but could now make out a few dozen zombies right behind him too.

“Stop the car!”

I reiterated my request from the clear dismissal of my first one.

“I can’t”

He replied, mumbled slow, quiet, and gingerly.

“They’ll catch us. And when they catch us, then we’re all dead”

I looked over toward the driver, averting my observation from Phil in the adjacent woodland. I couldn’t believe the words that escaped his mouth. Granted I didn’t know the guy, I didn’t know if he was a good person or not, but right now his reply and his actions repulsed me.

“He took the risk”

Another voice piped up, this time Mark.

“He knew what he was getting into and he was prepared to give his life for us. We’re safe now; you’ll have to let him go”

The driver pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator as if to confirm my acceptance of the group decision. As he did, the feel of my blade against his throat met that of another pushed up against his crotch, this time the sharpest point piercing the thin jean layer covering his most prized body part in a fencing like action. Jon had wrapped his arm around the driver’s seat and pushed his knife into a position that had potential to poise some grim pain, doing so in order to further accentuate the seriousness of my already apparent threat.

“I
suggest
you fucking stop, mate”

The driver, presumably acting with fear-induced spontaneity, hit the brakes hard, ceasing our motion with immediate effect. Unfortunately, his sudden and unwarned action disallowed us time to remove our threat-inducing weapons, meaning my knife sliced into his neck and Jon’s through his genitals. Our threats were intended to an extent, but only on the basis we thought he’d do just what we asked of him with the implements provocatively placed, it wasn’t our intention to
actually
harm the new addition. After all, he had turned up with a car to save us and probably didn’t know the full extent of Damian’s plan, so we certainly didn’t have any envisioned conviction behind our hostile actions. This was far from our intent, yet now blood spurted across the wheel and dashboard whilst the driver started gasping desperately for air.

I didn’t feel like I had fucked up with Damian, but now I really did; I had really fucked up with the driver and I instantly knew it. As far as I was aware, and probably as far as I’d ever know, this guy was completely innocent; he had tried to help Damian, and now inadvertently had helped all of us by risking his life to drive into zombie infested areas. From the single digit minutes I had known him, he seemed like a good guy drawn into a bad, intense situation that he would have been far from expecting. Now, only moments after he thought he was picking someone up and playing the hero, he was squirting thick fountains of blood from his neck and his dick, and was in both serious pain and trouble.

I ripped off my hoody and held it on his neck in futile attempt to stop the escaping gallons of blood as Jon did the same to his other penetrated area, both of us frantically trying to cover up the mess we knew we had made. A parade of pointless pleading and anxiety induced curse words filled the car from every mouth, until eventually the driver door flung open to reveal Mark who had escaped the boot to find his way up to the front line of the action. Batting Jon and my hands away, he reached round and undid the driver’s seatbelt, before pulling him out of the car and dumping him on the tarmac of the road. In the panic, we had failed to realise the driver had ceased moving, ceased breathing, ceased doing anything at all really. Are attempts had been in vain and now he was dead. Being the sensitive type he was, Mark had noticed this and took the decision of removing the body from the situation as felt it to be a complete waste of time to continue trying to help a lifeless corpse in the front seat. Throwing the driver to the ground, Mark proceeded to take the driver’s seat and subsequently the helm. During which time, Derek had flung open the back passenger door to grab the fast approaching Phil and pull him into the car. With a quick screech of the tyres on the tarmac we zoomed off, leaving behind us a fast approaching zombie wave which clawed and banged at the back of the car momentarily before we could escape their grasps. We had unintentionally left them a ‘snack’ to tide them over in the form of the driver, and I felt fucking awful for it.