Zombie Castle (Book 1) (5 page)

We sat glued to our seats and watched its progress. It was only when it lurched into the front of the car and stretched its arms over the bonnet in an attempt to reach us that the spell was broken and we all screamed in unison. At the sound of our screams it snarled again and began to claw at the car, its hands desperately but ineffectually trying to grip the smooth metal of the bonnet.

Snapping myself out of it I reached for the ignition, my hands shaking badly, and started the car. I put the car into reverse, jammed my foot down on the accelerator and the car shot backwards, causing the zombie to fall face first on the ground. I slammed my foot on the brake and the car skidded to a stop just before it hit the boundary wall of the petrol station. Looking back, to our horror, we saw it slowly pick itself up and start to stagger towards us again. I put the car in drive, and without looking at my mirrors, turned the wheel. With all four wheels spinning and tyres smoking, we shot back out on to the road.

‘What the fuck is going on!’ Becky screamed at me, ‘What was that?’

I came to and realised that we were now travelling at over a hundred miles an hour. Reluctantly, and with a glance at the rear-view mirror, I slowed the car down to a more respectable and safe eighty miles an hour.

The fact that both our kids were sobbing hysterically in the back of the car brought me fully back to my senses. I slowed the car down even more, hoping to find somewhere to stop in order to calm the children, Becky, and myself down.

When the speedometer dropped to twenty miles an hour both Stanley and Daisy shrieked, ‘Don’t stop, don’t stop!’

‘Stop the car NOW!’ screamed Becky.

‘It’s ok kids,’ I said soothingly, ‘daddy’s just going to stop the car. Nothing’s going to happen to us. Look around, there’s no one near us.’

They kept looking nervously out of all the windows as I brought the car to a halt.

Becky sat quietly in her seat for a moment. Then she unclipped her seatbelt, leant over and gave me a hug, and I hugged her back hard. She then disentangled herself from me and squeezing into the back of the car, hugged both of the kids together.

Once she was back in her seat she turned to me. ‘Are you going to tell me that we’ve landed in the middle of a zombie movie? Just tell me it’s a dream.’

‘Darling don’t ask me how, but yes, if you like, we are in the middle of a zombie movie! No way was that normal back at the garage. The guy looked as if he’d been bitten himself; that must be how he got infected. What we don’t know is how infectious they are. Will we turn into zomb……’

‘Car!’ shouted Stanley, who’d been watching out of the back window.

I looked in my wing mirror and saw the first car we’d seen on the roads all day, speeding towards us.

It was a BMW. It slowed down as it approached us and stopped about twenty feet away.

Grabbing the knife from the door pocket, I opened the door and got out.

A man stepped out of the car.

‘Stop!’ I shouted over to him, holding the knife out in front of me.

‘What the hell is going on?’ the man shouted back. ‘I’ve just seen someone being eaten by some maniac at the garage back there! When I tried to stop him he tried to bite me!’

He walked towards me.

I waved the knife warily. ‘Stop! Don’t come any closer!’

The man gestured hopelessly. ‘Why? What the fuck is going on? Why are you pointing a knife at me?’ At this point it all got too much for him and he broke down.

I wavered slightly, feeling sorry for him. ‘Do you really have no idea what’s going on?’

‘No!’ he said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. ‘I’ve just spent the last few days walking a loop around south Cornwall. I mis-timed my last walk so I got back to the car too late to head home and then spent the night in my car. This morning the weather was so nice I thought I’d walk a few more miles before heading home. When I finished that my first stop was at that petrol station. I still don’t understand what I saw, but it scared the shit out of me and I drove off. Then I met you. Can you please just tell me what’s going on?’

I thought for a moment, to compose my thoughts, before I spoke.

‘Look,’ I said, feeling a little calmer, ‘We don’t know much ourselves yet, but after all the reports this morning of people attacking each other we decided to head for home. Now we’ve just heard a report that a virus is responsible. We must have seen the same zombie as you did at that garage. We stopped here to get our breaths back.’

The man looked at me in confusion. ‘Sorry. I thought you just said ‘zombie’?’

‘Yes pal,’ I replied patiently. ‘Somehow we appear to be right in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. And please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve been in close contact with one. I don’t know how it spreads, so I don’t want you any closer to me or my family than you already are. I just can’t take the risk.’

To my surprise, his demeanour changed. He stood straighter and a determined look came into his eyes. He looked at me thoughtfully for a minute or so, and then spoke up. ‘Are you serious? I’ve hardly seen anyone and I certainly haven’t spoken to anyone since I started my walk. I prefer to choose the more out of the way footpaths.’

I nodded. ‘Ok, but you just said you got close to the zombie at the garage. Look I don’t really know. But I think if I’m going to be able to protect my family, it’s best to assume the worst and believe that somehow the impossible has happened.’

We all turned as we heard the sound of another car approaching. This time it was a Range Rover. It was also travelling at breakneck speed and as it got closer it pulled into the other lane to overtake us. It slowed slightly as it passed and I saw a wild eyed man and woman staring out at us. It had tinted windows so I couldn’t see if there was anyone in the back. They seemed to come to a decision because the car suddenly screeched to a halt and reversed back towards us. The woman wound down her window and shouted:

‘Where’s the hospital? My kids have both been bitten by someone and they need help!’

The man and I both took a step back.

Increasingly desperate now, she said, ‘Please! They’re unconscious! I have to get my babies to a hospital.’

The man interrupted her. ‘He’s waking up!’ He jumped out of the car, opened the rear door and lifted out a boy of about twelve, then stood there holding him, helplessly. He was on the other side of the car so my view was restricted, but I could see the boy lying motionless in his arms.

The man looked down as the boy’s arms started to twitch. ‘He’s coming round!’ he said, sounding relieved. ‘His eyes are moving!’

I knew what was about to happen, but I couldn’t say a word. It couldn’t happen! This was not a movie.

The child in the man’s arms jerked his head upwards and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck.

‘It’s ok Henry,’ the man said, ‘Dad’s he…aarrrggh,’ was all he managed to say, before his son bit deeply into his neck. He must have bitten straight through his windpipe and vocal cords, because his father’s scream turned into a wet gurgle and he barely made a sound as he fell out of sight behind the car.

We all screamed again in horror. The woman was shrieking for someone to help her from the front of the car. As we watched, a little girl’s head appeared from the back. Arms outstretched, as if seeking comfort, she crawled slowly over to her mother, who turned towards her instinctively.

The little girl growled and sank her teeth into her mother’s cheek. The woman’s shrieks turned to squeals of pain.

I turned my head away and came to a decision. We had to look after our kids. We needed to get away. I could hear Becky, Stanley and Daisy moaning and weeping at what they were witnessing. I turned to the man and shouted at him, ‘We’re off. Try to stay away from everyone until you find out more. Good luck mate.’

He seemed to have completely regained his composure. ‘I’m heading to the moors. I’ve got some food but I’m pretty good at foraging. If this is ‘the zombie apocalypse’ it’s one of the things I’m prepared for. My ‘Bug Out’ Bag is in the boot of my car and I’ve got some goodies hidden away in the car for an event like this.’

I was about to step into the car when he said this, so I stopped and looked at him. ‘Your Bug Out what? Why do you suddenly look better to me?’

Raising his voice over the sound of the screaming woman in the car, he continued. ‘I’m a prepper mate. There are a lot of us around and we’ve spent years talking about and preparing for various events. We normally talk about the possibility of a zombie apocalypse for fun! But we’re prepped for it all the same. As far as I’m concerned I’ve survived the outbreak and now I’m going to escape, evade and survive. It’s why I’ve spent weeks walking in the countryside. I’ve been practising my skills for when I need them.’

Sheepishly, he added, ‘Sorry about breaking down just now and screaming like a girl. I guess it was just the shock. Anyway, as I was saying, I always keep a rucksack in my car full of all the things I’ll need. I call it my Bug out Bag. It’ll help me survive wherever I go.’

I thought quickly, ‘If you’re the expert now. What should we do?’

He stopped and considered my question for a moment and then spoke. ‘You were on the right track when you said we need to stay away from people until we can understand what’s caused it. It’s all about survival now. Gather food when and where you can. Only eat foraged food that you’re familiar with; some of the things that grow in the wild can kill you. Being part of a group is better in terms of protection, but you must trust each other or it won’t work.’

He paused for breath then carried on, ‘It’s all down to common sense really. Try to find out what attracts the zombies and try not to do it. We all believe that the best way to kill a zombie is to destroy the brain. It would be best to test that theory out in a controlled environment to start with if you can, because your life will depend on knowing how to kill one.’

He looked round at the Range Rover. The woman had stopped screaming and was either dead or unconscious. Her daughter was still feeding greedily on her face and neck.

‘In fact…,’ he walked calmly round to the boot of his car and leant in. He rummaged for a few seconds and emerged holding a large knife. He removed it from its sheath. It was about ten inches long with a sharp point and looked wickedly sharp on one edge. The other edge was serrated. He walked deliberately over to the open window of the Range Rover. The little girl took no notice of him and was occupied with tearing off chunks of her mother’s flesh. He grabbed her by the hair, and before I could say anything, drove the knife deeply into her head. She slumped forward, dead.

He wiped his knife on the mother’s shirt and put the knife back in its sheath.

Then he bent over, retched violently and threw up. A lot.

I waited a minute or two for him to recover. ‘Sorry,’ he said, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief from his pocket. ‘I had to get that over with before I had time to think about what I was going to do. I think we can now confirm that a zombie can be killed by a knife through the brain!’

He pointed at Becky, Stanley and Daisy, who were staring open mouthed out of the window of the car, and continued. ‘Sorry about doing it in front of your family, but I suppose they’ll need to get used to it at some point.’

I was unable to speak, so I just waved my hands around like an idiot.

A noise reached us from behind the Range Rover, and the son stood up and started to move, arms reaching out towards us in a classic zombie pose.

Without thinking I said, ‘I’ve got this one.’

Absolutely shitting myself, I walked towards him with my carving knife held out in front of me. I thrust the knife towards his face but the blade sliced deeply through his nose and then just glanced off. He didn’t even flinch. As I stepped back and he advanced, I must have looked terrified. Hands trembling, I tried to stab him in the side of the head, but the cheap thin blade didn’t penetrate far enough. It would have caused a debilitating injury to a normal human being but instead it just bent against his skull and deformed the blade. Holding my now useless blade in my hand, I tried to turn and run, but the boy’s outstretched hand caught my shoulder and his fingers closed around my shirt. Losing it completely, I let out a yell of fright. The thought flashed across my mind that I was going to be eaten by a zombie and die.

A second thought followed swiftly afterwards: What a dickhead, I’m only going to survive the first half hour of an apocalypse!

As if in a dream, I saw the zombie’s head jerk back and watched as a knife was thrust in and pulled out again. It collapsed and lay motionless on the road. I staggered back and fell against the car, my legs like warm jelly. As my senses began to return and I became aware of my surroundings I heard my family in the car, screaming and crying again. I looked up at my saviour, who was standing with his survival knife still in his hand, blood dripping from its blade.

‘Thanks,’ I croaked.

Reassuringly the man replied, ‘Don’t worry about it. You had him on the first thrust. It was your knife that let you down.’

‘I almost got bitten on my first attempt at killing one and you’re telling me not to worry!’ I said despairingly. ‘That was my best knife and it’s fucking useless!’

He walked over to me. I forgot all about my fears about him being contagious, and we shook hands.

‘Bollocks! It’s a bit late to worry about you being infected now!’ I said, remembering.

All I heard from the car was, ‘Tom, stop swearing. It’s bad enough as it is.’

I raised my eyebrows at the man in resignation and he grinned.

‘Tom, I know you’re pulling a face!’ came the next complaint through the car window.

We smiled and it helped to calm us both down. Then we started to chuckle, and before long we were actually giggling. I guess it was the relief. I realised that the kids had stopped crying and were just sitting there, staring at me. Amazing really, considering that in a short space of time they had witnessed two people being attacked, bitten and killed, their attackers being dispatched by a knife into their brains, and their father almost being bitten in the process.