by Brown, TW
With a mop of dark, curly hair and brown eyes Geoff would have been able to blend in with any crowd were it not for his incredible height. His looks were nothing remarkable, and most people could not truly remember what he looked like and could only recall how tall the man was compared to others. That held true until the man sang. If there was anything that could make people forget how tall Geoff Shoemaker was, it would be his incredible singing voice.
“I didn’t dream to hope that anybody I knew would make it out of Leeds alive!” the mountain of a man exclaimed as he swept his cousin up in a massive hug. When he pulled back, his eyes were wet with tears.
“It is worse than you might think, Geoff,” Simon managed as he regained his ability to suck air into his lungs.
“We can see the smoke from here, and when the wind shifts, we can smell it.”
The two cousins spent a few minutes being reacquainted before the rest of Simon’s group was called in to be introduced as well. It was decided that, for the time being, the four of them could share one of the vacant townhouses on Churchville Drive.
Simon and Mrs. Raye were both quick to volunteer for the detail helping with the dispatching of the relatively few undead wandering the area as well as the building of a barbed wire fence and trench that would hopefully keep the citizens safe. It was all part of fitting in, and from what they were told as they were escorted to their new home, nobody was allowed to be idle.
For three days, things seemed to begin to slide into a bizarre routine of digging, killing zombies, and stringing barbed wire. Despite being strangers, they were greeted with smiles and polite nods of the head when arriving for work details or standing in line to accept their daily meal allotment.
It was late on the fourth night while he, Mrs. Raye, and Cedric were sitting around the table that another level of surrealistic crap was dumped in Simon’s lap. Annie had just been tucked in for the night and Mrs. Raye had poured each of them a tiny dose from her coveted bottle of scotch.
“Anybody up for a game of cards?” Simon asked. This received a groan from the other two.
“If I play another game of cards, I think I might have to just walk out and give myself over to the deaders,” Cedric groaned.
“I don’t think I have ever been so bored in all my life,” Mrs. Raye added.
“And what did you do in life before all this that was so bloody exciting?” Simon quipped as he picked up his glass and took a tiny sip of scotch.
“I worked for MI5.”
That statement hung in the air with an almost visible presence for several seconds until Cedric finally burst out laughing. Simon joined him, but not for long as he realized that Mrs. Raye’s expression had not changed.
“Wait…are you serious?” Simon sat up straight and gave Cedric a gentle nudge with his elbow. “Then what were you doing living at Clyde Court? A bit low end wasn’t it?”
“The view was fine, the rent was relatively cheap. Being a widow, I didn’t require much, and most folks would leave me be. Besides, I was keeping an eye on the place for a former co-worker back at MI5. There were concerns that a drug cartel was setting up shop.”
Simon shot a look over at Cedric. The man had grown strangely silent and now looked just a bit pale. He finally sat back in his chair and folded his hands in front of him.
“So, do we have a problem?” the man finally asked.
“Not at all,” Mrs. Raye said with a shake of her head. “Far as I’m concerned, everybody starts with a clean slate. I don’t want to know the details, and I honestly don’t care. But if you do anything at all from here on out…” She let that last bit just seep in as an implied threat.
Simon was floored. Even worse, he felt more horrible than ever about how they had left Shadiyah behind.
“Why?” It was the only question he could ask. So many things were swirling in his head that he could not process where to even begin. They had chosen to bring along a drug dealer and abandoned a young woman to certain death?
“I had no idea what we would face while trying to escape,” Mrs. Raye answered, turning her full attention to Simon. “If my assumptions about Mr. Black were correct, he would not hesitate in a fight. Also, I needed somebody I felt could kill or perhaps even use as bait if it came down to it.” She looked over at the man who had just started to exude a touch of smugness until that last bit.
“And don’t think I have not been paying attention to the fact that you started up right away on the teams that leave the area.” Mrs. Raye now fixed the man with a level stare. “If I find one single thing that leads me to believe you are trying to resume your old ways, I will lash you to a pole and give you over to the mob. These people may be nice enough, but there is an underlying feeling that they could turn into a bloodthirsty bunch with the right nudge.”
Cedric opened his mouth for a few seconds and then shut it. He sighed and then sat back. A smile split his face, and he began to laugh. Simon was becoming more confused by the second. Certainly this man did not think that Mrs. Raye was bluffing. And not only that, but he, Simon Wood, was not just some pushover to be disregarded.
“Mum, I think I can clear things up right here and put your mind at rest.”
Cedric hoisted his leg up onto the table and pulled up the hem enough so that he could reach inside his heavy boots. He produced a thin leather wallet and tossed it onto the table. Neither Simon nor Mrs. Raye moved at first, but eventually Mrs. Raye reached over and picked it up. She opened the flap and after only a few seconds, began to chuckle. She slid it over to Simon.
He gave the woman a confused frown before picking up the little billfold. Opening it, he saw the face of Cedric Black staring back at him from an identification card that proclaimed him to be Detective Inspector Sydney Brown of the Yorkshire Constabulary.
“I was working the region undercover for the past fourteen months,” Cedric—correction, Simon thought, Sydney, said.
After the laughter subsided, a thought came to Simon and he fixed the man with a harsh stare. “Why did you smash me on the head back then?”
“Actually, I did not know that you were a police officer, and you almost fit the description of one of the men in our dossier. I thought you might be the rival dealer that those bloody pricks were always on about.”
Simon sat back in his chair and felt the conflicting emotions coursing through him. To him, this was just another reason that they should have tried to reconcile things between Shadiyah and the others.
“Why couldn’t you just have told us that back at the tower? It might have saved Shadiyah,” Mrs. Raye said the words that Simon was thinking.
“Actually, I feel like I did a proper job of cocking that whole situation up. I must admit to being a right plonker when it comes to this whole…zombie situation. I still believed the agency line that this would all be under control within a few weeks. This was about to be my biggest arrest, and I was sure to be considered for Chief Inspector when it was all done. I would have been one of the youngest ever.”
The answer did nothing to make Simon feel any better. It also did nothing to improve his feelings for the man he knew as Cedric Black.
“So should we call you Cedric or Sydney?” Mrs. Raye asked.
“I think Cedric is best. That is how people know me here, and then there is little Annie. No sense in getting her confused.”
The next day, Simon had just returned from a long shift out in the sun working on the massive project that was the trench that would supposedly protect the village of Micklefield from the walking dead only to discover his cousin seated in the living room. Mrs. Raye was sipping tea with Geoff and Annie was on her stomach reading a book, a half-eaten sandwich on a plate beside her. There was no sign of Cedric which suited Simon just fine at the moment. He was still bothered by the fact that there might have been a real chance to save Shadiyah if certain things had been revealed.
Geoff set his cup down and greeted his cousin with a smile and then stepped back to give Simon a good look up a
nd down.
Geoff gave Mrs. Raye a polite nod and then walked to the large living room window and looked outside. “Can I have a moment with my cousin, please?”
Once the room was cleared and the door shut, the vicar turned to Simon. His expression was grim, and he motioned for Simon to have a seat.
“Seems rather ominous,” Simon laughed nervously. He unconsciously rubbed the bite on his arm. Despite almost no trace of it still being able to be seen with the naked eye, he could (whether consciously or subconsciously) feel its lingering presence. Had the doctor decided that he was a risk?
“I still can’t believe you are here. Before we lost power, the news was terrible. London was gone, and the fires in Leeds…well, I don’t need to tell you.” Geoff continued to glance out the window.
“Surely you did not clear the room just to tell me that you are glad to see me,” Simon said after his cousin just remained staring out the window for an uncomfortably long period of time with his hands folded behind his back.
“You would be a welcome addition to the leadership of this community, Simon.” Geoff finally turned to face his cousin, lips pursed as he seemed to be considering what to say next.
“This is becoming a bit worrying,” Simon laughed uncomfortably.
“This…event...has brought out the best in some of our people. Unfortunately, it has also brought out the worst. When we lost the grid over two weeks ago, we had a gathering where I was asked to accept the role of authority here for the time being. Obviously the West Yorkshire Police are not making any trips out here from Garforth these days. This might seem hasty and sudden, but it would be nice if you might consider taking the helm here in that department.”
Simon laughed, crossing the small room to clasp his cousin’s hand. “I would be honored.” Geoff followed Simon to his room where a basin of water was waiting so that he could wash up a bit.
He almost blurted that both Mrs. Raye and Cedric would be better and more qualified candidates. Simon’s head spun at all this. He did not know what exactly he had expected in Micklefield, but it seemed as if the people had already come together and decided to take a very proactive approach on how to run their little town. It was highly irregular to say the least.
“Before you accept, you need to understand that the people here in Old Mick have already had a town meeting and made some choices that you may not feel comfortable enforcing.”
“Oh?” Simon was puzzled.
“These people were about to elect me as the chief constable just before you and your band arrived,” Geoff said with a sigh. “We’ve already had a murder here, and then we caught that group from New Micklefield trying to sneak into the primary school. Somebody has to administer justice and be a presence that helps bring everybody back together if we are going to survive. Also, this feud between Old and New Micklefield needs to end, and the best person to mediate that would be a neutral party.”
Simon knew well enough how Micklefield had divided into almost two separate villages. From his recollection, it had something to do with a proposed wind farm. The site would have been just north of the village and that was the reason the Old Micklefield residents hated it; they would be the ones who had to look at those eyesores for all eternity.
“Let’s start with the people caught in the school. Were they stealing text books?” Simon laughed, but sobered fast when his cousin’s expression darkened.
“That is where we decided to gather all the food and such that we collected from the houses of those we lost in those first days. We also managed to bring in a freight truck that was abandoned on the M1. The trailer was loaded with crated chickens, most likely bound for some farm, but that was a blessing as it is a supply of eggs as well as some of the meat you enjoy at evening meal. Won’t be making any trips to Morrisons Supermarket any time soon, and when we found that truck, you would have thought the Queen was paying a visit for all the fuss.”
“And you say there was a murder?” A few weeks ago, Simon would have been stunned. That was just not something you would expect in a sleepy English village like Micklefield.
“Once again, it had to do with food. We were going house to house, collecting everything once it was decided that we should pool all our resources and not just that of the deceased. Some bloke accused another of hiding food, and it turned into a nasty fight. Eleven people brawling in the streets like a bunch of football hooligans was the result. That is also why you might want to think carefully about accepting the post. There was a vote, and it was decided that anybody guilty of murder, rape, and even thievery would be executed.”
A knock at the door came and Mrs. Raye poked her head inside the room as Simon sat there with his mouth open in dumbstruck astonishment. “I hate to break up this family reunion, but some young man just arrived out front and said something about a team of hunters returning with a delegation from New Micklefield?”
Geoff stood and gave the woman a polite nod of his head. He turned back to Simon. “So, what do you say?”
Simon shrugged. Really…how bad could it be?
Walking outside, Simon actually staggered back at what greeted him. A group of a few hundred people were gathered in the street. What he saw reflected in their faces was a mix of fear, anger, and desperation. At the front of the crowd were a group of five individuals (Cedric was among them which came as no surprise to Simon) outfitted much like the people who he had first encountered when they arrived just a few days prior. Bunched close together, and basically at knife point, were three people dressed like they were out for an afternoon bicycle ride. Each had a sheath on his hip, but had obviously been liberated of whatever weapon he was carrying.
“Before we accept the delegation from New Mick, I would like to introduce my cousin Simon Wood to those of you who may not have had the pleasure of meeting yet.” Geoff stepped to the edge of the small porch and raised his arms in the air to quiet the crowd. “He was a police officer in Leeds. I have asked him to step forward as our constable and be the voice of authority. Since we do not have the luxury of time these days, I would just ask for a show of hands as we vote. All in favor?”
Simon was more than a little surprised to see so many hands raise in the air. After all, he was a stranger for all intents and purposes. Even just a bit more surprising was to see Cedric’s hand in the air with the others; for some reason, he believed the man might balk at the idea. When the vote for those opposed came, he took a second to try and commit a few of those faces to memory.
“It looks like you are the new chief constable,” Geoff said over his shoulder.
Simon stepped forward and felt a chill settle in his heart as he watched the last few hands that had gone up in opposition of him taking the post slowly begin to lower. One of those who had voted against him was the town’s doctor that had seen him when he and the others first arrived. Dr. Kincaide’s eyes were locked on him and the man’s expression was grim.
“This is all fine, but we came to retrieve one of our people,” a man from the New Micklefield trio spoke up.
“Your man was caught trying to steal from our food stores,” somebody in the crowd yelled. This brought on supportive shouts of agreement along with shouts of “We hang thieves!” sounding off from the mob.
Geoff once again raised his hands to quiet the crowd. With what was almost a flourish, he ushered Simon forward to the front of the porch.
“Time to get to work, Constable,” Geoff whispered humorlessly.
9
Verdicts
Shadiyah spun to face the women and children who were now clustered in closely; each of them had a clear expression of pure horror on their faces. She stepped away from the carnage, her scimitar at her side with fresh blood still dripping from the blade.
“Why?” one of the women finally managed through her tears.
Shadiyah was struck dumb by this reaction. Of all the possibilities that she could envision this scene playing out in her mind, this one made no sense. She glanced over at the bodies of
the men sprawled around the table where she had butchered them and then back to these curiously ungrateful women and children who were now looking at her as if she might be a demon from Hell.
“You are all free,” Shadiyah finally managed to say as she knelt to wipe the majority of the blood from her blade on a wet towel that was balled up on the concrete floor of this pool room.
“You killed our husbands,” one of the women managed to cry over the wailing of the children that only seemed to be growing in volume to the point where it hurt her ears.
Shadiyah looked up and then all around herself. When had she fallen? Somehow she was now sitting on the floor in a puddle of chlorinated water and fresh blood. Making her way to her feet, she took a step towards the women and children. She did not understand how she could have made such a mistake and she wanted to apologize.
However, when the entire group began to shriek and scream bloody murder, she halted. Over the sounds of crying, a new sound was beginning to make itself known; the steady pounding of the undead on the outer doors to this pool area were growing in volume and intensity. Shadiyah turned and ran for the stairs as one of the barricaded doors began to give way under the onslaught.
Just as she made the upper landing, the door buckled. She paused, thinking that perhaps this new development would cause the group to flee. She could help them get up onto the roof and maybe even guide them someplace a bit safer. Yet, even as the zombies began to climb and fall over the patio furniture and vending machines that had been shoved in place to help barricade the doors, the group simply huddled together and wailed.
She stopped again when she reached the doors that opened out to the balcony where she had first spied these people. Her mind tried to reassemble the scene and find where she had gone wrong, but the jaded eyes through which she viewed the world would not refocus.
