by Hatchett
“How many fines ya paid?” Ahmed asked.
“None.”
“How’d you manage that?” Ayla asked, surprised.
“The cars were nicked,” Mamba replied, matter of factly.
Issy couldn’t help herself but smile at the audacity of the man.
Mamba shrugged and walked on.
Ayla took a few quick steps to catch up, pulling Gina along faster. “How do you know you were caught speeding if it wasn’t your car and you didn’t get the fine?”
“Duh! The fuckin’ light flashes,” Mamba replied, as if talking to a child.
Ayla thought about it. “Might not have had any film in it,” she suggested.
“Since when have they used film?” Mamba mocked. “It’s all digits now.”
“Digital,” Ahmed corrected from behind.
“Fuck off, Ahmed.”
They kept going, one foot in front of the other. The houses fell away and were replaced by grassland.
“I’d give anythin’ for a fuckin’ bus,” Mamba mused. “Ya normally get none then three turn up at the same time.”
“Could be waiting a while,” Gina suggested.
“Shut up Princess, who asked ya?” Mamba replied.
A few paces later he said, “I’d give anythin’ for a taxi.”
Everyone ignored him.
A few paces later he said, “Maybe we should find another motorbike shop, Ahmed.”
Ahmed ignored him.
“Fuck me, I’m bored,” Mamba commented to no one in particular.
Everyone ignored him.
A few paces later he said, “So Cobra, where’d ya get ‘em helicopters ‘n the rockets?”
“They were a present from a male friend,” Issy replied.
“Rich fuck, was he? Big cock?”
“I’m pretty sure he wasn’t rich,” she replied.
Mamba laughed. “Good one!”
They approached the junction with the B154, Church Street and Mamba spotted a building with the sign ‘Prison Worker’s Union’ on it.
“We should bomb that fuckin’ place, Ahmed,” Mamba suggested, pointing to the building.
“Oh, you got some bombs then?” Issy asked.
“Figure of speech,” Mamba replied quickly.
“So, you don’t have any bombs then?” Issy pushed.
“Don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout, Cobra,” Mamba said, looking over his shoulder at Issy with a small grin on his face, challenging her to say something else.
Issy grinned back and let it go.
They walked across the junction and Mamba spotted a pub. Like a little kid, he wanted to explore, but Ahmed told him to wait until they got to the hotel.
“What’s it say in your book about it?” Issy asked.
“Dunno, don’t care, we ain’t tryin’ it,” Mamba responded. “How much fuckin’ further we gotta go?”
“I reckon we’re ‘bout halfway there,” Ahmed said.
“Jesus!” Mamba whispered under his breath and continued walking.
He saw a sign for ‘Edmonton Cemetery’.
“Look at that!” he said with mock excitement and pointed it out to the others, as if he’d just found the holy grail.
“So?” Ahmed asked.
“It’s the dead centre of Edmonton,” Mamba explained.
“That’s bad,” Issy remarked, “is it the best you can do?”
Ahmed looked confused. “I don’t understand,” he said, and Gina started laughing.
Mamba looked at him. “Dead centre,” he explained.
“But how do ya know it’s the centre of Edmonton?” Ahmed asked.
“For fucks sake Ahmed, one minute ya know the distance ta the fuckin’ sun ‘n the next yer on a diff’rent fuckin’ planet altogether! CEMETARY. DEAD CENTRE,” Mamba explained.
“Oh,” Ahmed uttered, finally getting it. “Not very funny.”
Mamba shook his head. “Well, it isn’t now yer’ve dissected it. Get it? Dissected it!”
“People are dying to go there,” Issy pointed out.
“Lame,” Mamba replied.
“It’s a funereal experience,” Gina added.
Mamba just shook his head.
They continued along the A10, the scenery hardly changing.
“Christ, it mus’ be fuckin’ borin’ livin’ ‘round here,” Mamba said, exasperated. “I’m bored ‘n I’ve only bin here an hour or so.”
“Yeah, it is a bit dead,” Issy remarked.
“Shut up, Cobra. I’m bored of the ‘dead’ jokes, OK?”
“I’ve got one,” Ayla said.
“Do ya have ta?” Mamba asked.
“Yes. A man goes to see a psychic and she tells him that his wife would die very soon. So, he says, ‘will I be acquitted?’”
“Am I supposed to laugh?” Mamba asked. “I’ve bin killin’ my girlfriends for years ‘n I’ve never bin caught. Now, that’s funny!”
No one was sure if Mamba was telling the truth or not, so they kept walking on in silence.
30
Day 17 – 12:45
Heathrow Terminal 3, Security Briefing Room
Jack, the Major, Andy, Travis, Sarah, Bear, Joel and Irish sat around the conference table, debating what they should do next.
“The problem is that it is so easy to disappear in London if you know what you’re doing,” Irish said. “Someone like Mamba could vanish within a few yards and you’d never find him. We still don’t know how he managed to escape unharmed from the Islington Canal. He’s obviously not stupid. Mad maybe, but he’s got street smarts.”
“I don’t think anyone will disagree with you there,” Sarah replied, “but we’ve got to start thinking more like him. So, if I was Mamba, where would I go?”
They looked at a large map of London spread out across the table.
“I’ve been looking at this for ages, and nothing stands out,” Travis said.
“I don’t think the map will tell you anything,” Andy said. “It all depends on what he is trying to do, and we already know that.”
“Well, our perimeter has been beefed up, and the Tower is on high alert. I’m not sure what else we can do,” Sarah pointed out.
“Just a thought, but what if we set a trap here?” Joel suggested. “Still make it hard for him to get in so its not obvious, but set it up so that once he’s in, he can’t get out. A bit like a lobster trap.”
“Good idea, but we could be waiting forever,” the Major pointed out.
“I don’t think Mamba’s that patient,” Irish said. “When we took back the Tower, he had attacked us here within a few days. I don’t think we can find him, but we can be certain he will come to us. I agree, let’s set a trap.”
“But what about Issy and Gina?” Andy asked. “although they were alive earlier, we don’t know what he’s doing to them or what he plans to do to them.”
“He would have killed them by now, if that was what he was going to do,” Jack said. “Keeping them prisoner increases the risk of his detection and he knows we won’t stop until we find them or him. So, he wants them for a reason, and I think we’ll find that out fairly soon. In the meantime, we should consider what sort of trap we can put in place.”
“Yes, but what’s happening to them in the meantime?” Travis pointed out.
Everyone around the table was silent.
31
Day 17 – 13:00
A10, Great Cambridge Road
Mamba and his group arrived at Cambridge Terrace and noticed a short row of shops, set back, away from the road. Mamba then spotted a newsagent and told them that he was going in, so they all traipsed across the pavement and side road.
Mamba went in alone and opened the door a couple of minutes later. “Come on,” he urged.
They all entered the shop, saw a couple of fresh bodies on the floor, then helped themselves to a drink and a snack to eat.
“Don’t say I never take ya anywhere,” Mamba said.
After finishing their
food and drinks, they left the shop and retraced their steps to the main road. They headed North again, and Mamba saw a large group of zombies huddled together at the bottom of some steps which led up to a covered walkway across the road.
As they got closer, they could see that the zombies were trying to climb the stairs, but were being forced back, some with stab wounds to the head.
Mamba withdrew his knives and Ahmed and Ayla did the same. They crept up on the back of the horde and started stabbing the zombies in the backs of their heads. As the horde slowly dwindled, Mamba saw a couple of pairs of legs on the stairs and the flashing of a blade when a zombie got too close. Within minutes they were near the bottom of the stairs with only a couple of zombies left, and when Mamba looked up, he recognised one of Volkan’s men. He didn’t remember the guy’s name, but who cared?
“Ya OK?” Mamba asked.
“Yeah, we were walking along nice and easy when these fuckers suddenly started going for us. We had to get up here quick and try to fend them off.”
“Yeah, same happened ta us earlier,” Mamba said. “I think the blood goes off ‘n they can smell us again. Ya betta get dirty with these fresh ‘uns.”
The man nodded and came down the stairs with the others from his group.
“Ya all OK?” Mamba asked.
“Pretty much. One of the guys got tagged, but it’s minor and he’s fine.”
“Which one?” Mamba asked.
The speaker pointed out one of his colleagues and Mamba beckoned him forwards. “Lemme see,” he said.
The man pulled back his sleeve to show a gash which started near his thumb and was around three inches in length. As he was pulling his sleeve back down, Mamba stabbed him in the head, and he fell to the floor with a thud.
The other five Turks had been getting dirty on the floor, but instantly sprang up with wickedly sharp daggers appearing in their hands as if from nowhere.
Mamba casually put his own knife away and stared at them.
“I thought ya would know betta,” he said. “Once bit, ya turn. Gotta kill anyone who gets bit.”
With that, Mamba walked passed them and continued up the road. Ahmed and Ayla jogged to catch up, pulling Issy and Gina along with them.
“Yer welcome,” Mamba shouted over his shoulder to the remaining five Turks staring at his back in surprise.
They kept going. They walked past a school, another parade of shops then a service station, a tool hire shop, a storage warehouse and a shop selling tiles. Then they could see their destination a few hundred metres ahead, right next to a Mercedes and a Toyota showroom.
The Travelodge was in an ‘L’ shape, with parking at the rear. It had five floors and was a typical low budget structure with cladding to make it look more modern that it was, and row upon monotonous row of the same windows. There didn’t appear to be any entrance on the road side, so they followed the pavement around the corner into Lincoln Road, saw a BMW garage to their left and the hotel’s car park on their right. There was a wall all around the cark park, but rather than going further than they needed, they just hopped over it to save time.
They walked to the corner of the building and turned to find the entrance twenty metres ahead. But best of all, right outside the entrance was a row of brand-new vehicles, all black and all without number plates. There were a couple of BMW X5’s, a couple of G-Class Mercedes, a couple of Mercedes GLE’s and a couple of Toyota Land Cruisers. Eight new cars, or SUVs, each big vehicles which would hold five or six people.
“Rubber Duck, it looks like we have ourselves a convoy,” Ahmed muttered.
Mamba ignored him and checked that the car park’s barrier had been closed and that the area was clear of zombies. He then opened the door to the nearest Land Cruiser and jumped in. The keys were sitting in the centre console, so Mamba pressed the brake and hit the starter button. The vehicle roared into life and a smile spread across Mamba’s face.
Ayla came across to the open doorway. “Got you something,” she said, and handed him a small package. Mamba pulled the bag off the object and took a few seconds turning it over before realising that he was looking at the Men at Work CD, ‘Down Under’.
“Yer’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin me!” Mamba shouted.
“No joke, I got it from a record shop a couple of days ago. Just never found the right time to give it to you. Go on, put it in!”
Mamba reluctantly put the CD into the slot.
“Number 3,” Ayla said, helpfully.
Mamba did as he was told and ‘Down Under’ started playing.
“I fuckin’ hate this song!” Mamba shouted as he turned up the volume. The tune echoed across the car park, causing zombies outside the perimeter to take a keen interest and the guys who had already arrived to come running out of the hotel with their knives raised.
Basir was one of them, but once he spotted Mamba, he slowed down, replaced his knife and, as a smile spread across his face, started jigging to the music.
Mamba shook his head in disgust as others started dancing, everyone laughing and smiling. Even Issy and Gina couldn’t help but smile. These people were nuts.
“Ya can’t dance to this shite!” Mamba shouted and couldn’t help but laugh at these mental Turks.
Ayla tried to get Mamba to join in, but he was having none of it. He turned off the car’s engine, shutting down the music, much to everyone’s disappointment.
“That’s enough of that old pony,” he added as he climbed from the vehicle and slammed the door closed. He fist bumped Basir.
“What the fuck did ya think was happenin’?” Mamba asked him. “Ya come runnin’ outta the hotel like one of yer bombs was ‘bout to go off.”
“Thought someone was nicking our cars,” Basir replied, with a smile.
Mamba laughed, looking around at the zombies gathered on the other side of the car park boundary.
“Can’t see any of ‘em drivin’, even an auto.”
Mamba looked back at Basir and scanned the hotel behind him. “What’s it like?”
“It’s a Travelodge,” Basir replied, “what do you expect?”
“Fair enough,” Mamba acknowledged.
“But there is a well-stocked bar,” Basir added helpfully.
That brought a smile to Mamba’s face. “Time to party then.”
“Do you want to get your CD?” Basir asked with a grin.
Mamba stared at him. “Very fuckin’ funny! I’d rather listen to Engelbert Hump-a-bird.”
“Who?”
“Exactly! Come on, let’s go.”
32
Day 17 – 14:00
Travelodge, Enfield
Mamba and the new arrivals followed Basir and the other Turks towards the hotel entrance.
“Is everyone here?” Mamba asked.
“Not yet,” Basir replied. “Couple more groups to arrive.”
Mamba nodded as he walked through the entrance into the reception area. The Turks had dumped their gear all over the place.
“Everyone get a room ‘n dump yer gear there,” he ordered. “Then drinks in the bar.”
Mamba and Ahmed dragged Issy and Gina with them as they climbed the stairs to the first floor, Ayla following closely behind. Mamba selected the first room he came to, but as there was no electricity, the room keys wouldn’t be of any use. Mamba stepped back and with a fast kick splintered the door next to the lock and it sprang open with a thump against a floor stopper and rebounded.
Mamba entered the room, dropped his rucksack and looked around as the others joined him. There was a large double bed against the side wall with small side tables and reading lights springing out of the wall above.
“We gonna have some fun in here,” he said, leering at Issy and Gina. “’Bout time I got ta grips with ya Princess,” he added menacingly, staring straight at Gina’s breasts as he spoke and licking his lips. He turned to Issy, “don’t worry, Cobra, ya won’t be left out, there’s plenty to go ‘round.”
Ayla was staring dagg
ers at the back of Mamba’s head. She’d known all along that she wouldn’t be able to keep Mamba off them forever, but she’d tried to distract him for as long as she could. In her heart of hearts, she knew they would reach this point. She loved him and thought he loved her too. Maybe he did in his own way, but Issy and Gina were simply too tempting and clearly, he wasn’t going to pass up on the opportunity.
Ayla had tried to play it cool before, intimating that she was up for anything, but that was just a bit of bravado, to keep herself on top of the situation. Now she really wasn’t sure how she felt. She wondered where she fit into his little fantasy, if she featured at all. She wasn’t sure what she felt about sharing Mamba, whether she was expected to join in, whether she was expected to have sex with other women or even Ahmed.
Mamba was saying something to her, and she had missed it, “Sorry, what?”
“I said ya were up for it,” Mamba repeated. “Ya are ain’t ya?”
“Of course,” Ayla replied, trying her best to put a smile on her face. She wished she’d heard what else he’d said because now she didn’t know what she’d just agreed to do.
“What about ya, Ahmed?” Mamba asked.
“Keep me the fuck outta yer games,” Ahmed replied. “I’ll find my own room.” With that, he left the room and a few seconds later there was a loud crash as the door of the next room along the corridor crashed open.
Mamba turned back to Issy and Gina. “Ya wanna get yerselves ready for action or ya wanna come downstairs for a drink?”
“Drink,” Gina replied quickly. If this was going to happen, she really didn’t want to remember much about it.
“Good decision, Princess,” Mamba replied, as he gathered Issy and Gina’s cords and led them back towards the door.
As they entered the hallway, there was a scream and some banging coming from further down the hall. Mamba passed the cords to Ayla and told her to wait as he began to run along the corridor, withdrawing his knife as he went. Ahmed came out of his room at the same time and followed.
33
Day 17 – 14:15
Travelodge, Enfield
Mamba and Ahmed rushed to the end of the corridor and turned right into a new stretch. As soon as they turned the corner they could see where the trouble was coming from.
