Zombie Dawn Apocalypse (5 page)

“Life.”

“It has its moments,” said Madison.

“And how is that any different to life before the zombies? We still worked crappy day jobs, had family arguments and long journeys. Now we just do the same, but without fast food chains,” said Jack.

“
Mmm
, I could kill for a pizza.”

“You know a lot of people used to wish for this sort of life, of simplicity, of a basic purpose in life, a driving force,” Jack said thoughtfully.

“What fucking idiots,” Madison replied.

“Really? Surely it’s instinctive to humans. We didn’t start with supermarkets, live news and fashion stores.”

“No, but we progressed to it, and now we have stepped backwards,” she said.

“And yet we used to meet people all the time who regretted so much of their lives, wasted and unfulfilled.”

Madison sat up, not annoyed to have been interrupted in her star gazing, but more curious as to how the Zombie Apocalypse could be explained as a positive move for humanity.

“You see, we now lead as natural a life as any creature could, survival of the fittest and all that,” Jack continued.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, surely we are now equal to all creatures on earth. Without our technology and vast industry we only have our natural, God given advantages to survive with,” said Jack.

“Which are?”

“Our brains, how many creatures can use a hammer, an axe or a gun? We’ve always been considered top of the food chain, perhaps it’s time we proved it, being as special as we are,” said Jack.

“Yeah, well you can see how that went. We tried, we lost, now we’re second in the food chain.”

“Far from it, we’re the predators, they’re the prey. Many predators can be taken down when facing superior odds of their prey, but like for like, we are still on top,” said Jack.

“Then how do you explain the current apocalypse?”

“Survival of the fittest,” Jack replied.

“Well, not to rain on your parade, but we’re quickly getting extinct,” said Madison.

“Maybe, but we still live as kings, and we’ll do it in style,” said Jack.

Madison giggled.

Dale walked casually up to the wagon, a fire axe slung over his shoulder and a machete on his belt as he patrolled.

“That’s reassuring,” he said.

“Haven’t you got work to?” Madison asked him.

“I’m doing it, can’t you see?”

He swung the axe down in front of him and clutched it in both hands, looking pleased with himself.

“Well get on with it then,” said Jack.

Dale grumbled and threw the axe back up onto his shoulder.

“I needed to piss anyway,” he said.

He carried on walking and went thirty yards out from the perimeter of the camp to some bushes, until he found somewhere out of sight. Dale threw his axe down to the ground and unbuttoned his fly, sighing as he relieved himself. He buttoned his jeans back up and turned to pick up his axe but froze in shock at the sight of a zombie that was standing over his weapon, staggering slowly towards him. Quickly peering around he realised it was a lone creature and he relaxed a little.

“Fuck me, you scared me you little bastard.”

The creature was only a few paces away but was moving very slowly, as Dale drew his machete from its sheath.

“Say hello to my little friend.”

He took a single step forward and slammed the machete as hard as he could into the beast’s skull, splitting it deeply. Blood immediately spurted out, covering Dale’s sweater and face.

“Ah, man! That’s fucking disgusting.”

“Hey, Dale, you alright?” Jack called.

 
“All fine, mate.”

He looked down at his clothing, soaked with a thick disgusting blood.

“God damn, I love this sweater.”

He put the machete down and pulled the sweater off, throwing it down into a sloppy mess over the dead creature.

“Thanks a lot, pal. Just what I needed, fucking zombies.”

Blood dripped from his face onto his white t-shirt, he pulled it off and used it to wipe the blood from his face and hands before finally the blade of his machete. Now bare-chested, and at last respectable, he strolled back to the camp to find some replacement clothing.

“Food’s ready!” shouted Riley.

The survivors cheered, the most excitement they had shown all week. Madison and Jack had been sitting silently for the last few minutes, until Jack leapt off the wagon to head to the freshly cooked food.

“You coming?”

“Na, I’ll wait till the queue dies down,” said Madison.

“Well don’t wait too long, this is a hungry crowd!”

Madison sat comfortably watching her friends dig into the well-deserved and welcome meal. The camp was vibrant and beaming with conversation and laughter, it was hard to feel down when there were so many positive waves in the air. Everyone was enjoying themselves as much as the best parties she had ever attended before the Apocalypse, and they had no alcohol, no fancy clothes, nothing more than a roaring fire and some fresh meat.

Words had done nothing to affect Madison’s mood, but seeing the community before her hammered the words of Jack and Wells home. Life wasn’t all bad, there were probably as many good times as there ever had been. She began to feel annoyed with herself for having such a quitter’s attitude, and so publicly. She had assumed life should be good all the time, but perhaps the goal of life was simply to live.

Content with her improved outlook on life and finally eager to join in the fun, Madison leapt from the wagon and strolled over to the pig roast. The evening went on, more like a camping party than an apocalyptic survival camp, with dancing and chat until all but the guards were asleep.

The March, United Kingdom

Nick and Carter stood in the doorway of the church in the heart of the town. Since the fortification of the town during the zombie outbreak it had been pressed into service as a hospital. There was something about its thick walls, stained glass windows and silence that helped instil calm amongst even the most badly injured. Lying on the beds were the survivors brought back by Nick and Carter. One of the medics walked over, whispering quietly.

“They’re all undernourished and one has broken ribs. No signs of infection though. The woman says they were part of a convoy that tried to get away from Reading,” he said.

“Reading? I thought we brought the survivors from that outpost here about twelve months ago,” said Carter.

“The woman says they’ve been trying to get here for the last month. There were thirty four of them when they left, now just the three you found,” the medic replied.

“Man, that sucks.”

Two men entered the church. Both wore thick coats and carried edged weapons on their belts.

“Nick, Carter, the council is meeting. Your presence has been requested.”

Carter looked over to Nick who didn’t appear terribly impressed with the news.

“Why? They’ve had my report,” asked Nick.

The first man shrugged.

“Let’s go,” said Nick as he turned back to the medic, “thanks for the information, we’ll check up on them later.”

The four men walked the short distance from the church to the town’s council chambers. They were still being used in much the way they always had been, to talk, argue and discuss, but rarely to do anything.

“We’ll be in shortly,” said Nick, as he dismissed the two men that had come to find them. He turned back to Carter.

“These things are always screw-ups and politics. Let me do the talking and keep calm, ok?” Carter simply nodded in agreement.

The two approached the doors that opened as though they were automatic. They stepped inside, noticing the men holding open the doors. Inside the small building were around two dozen people in a semi circle, listening to information from another of the scouts.

“Ah, welcome, Commander,” said Davies, a short bald man who stood on the far side.

The rest of the room went quiet as Nick and Carter moved inside, the short man beckoned for them to take the podium where everybody could see them. As they moved into position the man continued.

“We have read your report, Commander, and have grave concerns about our ability to repel such a substantial number of attackers. Our scouting parties to the east have established the main roads are still populated by small numbers of the dead and the main cities of Newport, and possibly Cardiff, are massively overrun. What is your assessment of the situation?” he asked.

Nick looked to Carter who nodded, indicating he should speak. Nick took a step forward, addressing the group.

“Council members, I have been with this outpost now for nearly ten years. When I first joined we controlled most of this region, along with the outlying villages and even some of the castles. Each year our territory and numbers have fallen, while the numbers of our enemies grow stronger. The creatures we found are, in my opinion, the single greatest threat we have faced since the razing of the cities nine years ago. The west side is, as you know, strongly protected by the river and cliff. Providing we protect the bridge we are safe. The east however is an entirely different matter,” he said, before being interrupted by Davies.

“So we need to leave then?”

“No, I didn’t say that. Some tried to leave last year, and we found their bodies a week later when they came back as the dead.”

“But what about the signals from
Fishguard
, why don’t we pack up and travel there?” he asked.

“I just told you why, the roads are impassable, and it would sacrifice all we have left on a fool’s errand. The signals have been the same repeated message for over a year now, there is no guarantee there’s anybody alive. Carter and I have examined our perimeter and our defences in detail. We need twenty-four hours to ensure this town is defensible against a major attack and we will need the entire population to work on it.”

“What if we can’t hold them?” asked a woman at the back of the room.

“If we fail then we have the emergency boats, but they can only carry a dozen at most. Realistically we’re boxed in and we don’t have the resources to escape in any numbers.”

“A dozen, I thought we had plenty of boats? When we first came here all the boats in the area were tied up for emergency use,” asked another in the group.

“You are of course correct. We did, but Mr Davies decided their upkeep was too much and we needed to put our time into setting up the council chambers and market, remember?” he answered accusingly.

A murmur spread around the people as they felt the pangs of fear and doubt regarding their situation. Carter moved up to Nick and whispered in his ear.

“The council is
gonna
screw us, you know that, right?”

Nick nodded in agreement, turning back. Before he could speak an older looking man stood and addressed the crowd.

“So, this seems pretty straightforward to me. We have three choices and we need to choose one of them before they get here. The first is we get every last land vehicle and evacuate to
Fishguard
. The second is we stand and fight them and the third is to leave by boat.”

“Why shouldn’t we get the vehicles and make a break for it before the horde arrives? It’s probably safer there,” asked one of the men.

“Are you not listening?” Carter asked.

“Look. The boats are no good. We have too many people. The land escape is dangerous and we could get to
Fishguard
and find it either empty or overrun, either
 
way it would mean the end for us. I say we stand and fight,” said Nick.

At the back of the room a man in his thirties approached, it was
Artur
, an old friend of Nick’s from the early days of the outbreak.

“I agree with Nick. We’ve stopped them before and we can stop them again. We have strong walls, supplies and weapons. If we can’t beat them here then we’re fucked!”