After five minutes, though, of watching hundreds of zombies fall like lemmings into the water, the watchers quietened down. More of them were still pouring onto the dock and the end of the shambling mass was not yet in sight. Even though they had proved easy to kill, the sheer numbers of them more than equalised any advantage people thought they had using weapons, manoeuvrability and tactics.
Moving away front the rail, Digby sat on a bollard and ran through the mission in his head. He could see no flaws in the plan they had devised. Once they’d landed, they would remain in one single group. Smaller squads within the group would detach to clear houses and buildings, but never be far from the protection of the main force. If large numbers of zombies were discovered, they would try to draw them out to an area where they could bring the biggest concentration of gunfire on them.
A Merlin helicopter would be flying reconnaissance overhead, keeping him informed of what was in the surrounding area. Machine guns had been mounted on every suitable place on them, so if need be, they could provide close support for those on the ground. If required, other helicopters that would be held in reserve on the small islet they’d already cleared could be called upon to assist. These were being deliberately held back to preserve them in optimal condition, should the mission go badly wrong and an emergency evacuation was required.
The kit each marine and sailor carried was cut to the minimum. They were only taking water and bullets, but they would all be carrying a large quantity of ammunition with them; a lot more than they usually carried on combat missions. If they expended this, the helicopter would also be able to resupply them by winching down loaded magazines in nets already loaded onto it.
He could find no flaws in the plan, although he reminded himself of the age-old adage that ‘no plan survives first contact with the enemy’.
He was snapped from his thoughts by shouts and commands being issued. Standing up, he saw people pointing over the rail. Rushing forward to see what was happening, he was shocked to see the bodies were no longer splashing into the water but falling on the piled-up bodies that had built up enough to break the surface. As they landed on the ones beneath them, they tried to stand until hit by another falling on top of them.
More were still filling the jetty and it was not a stretch of the imagination to see that they could build up enough to enable those still coming to walk over the bodies of the ones below them and potentially reach the ship.
The horn on the ship stopped blaring and the loudspeaker warned everyone they were repositioning the ship. The ship’s thrusters caused the water to boil at its bow and stern. Racing water washed over the piled-up bodies. As the ship began to move away, the powerful currents created underwater disturbed the bodies trapped below the surface, causing the sickening mass of stacked-up bodies to collapse in places. Bodies swirled in the eddies created, some still thrashing around, but some Digby noticed lay still and lifeless, proving the theory that they still needed to breathe to live and so would drown in water.
The captain of the ship skilfully brought the ship to a halt and held it in position another twenty metres from the jetty. This time he announced the horn would begin sounding again, most likely to warn people to put their mugs of tea down to save spilling it all over themselves when they jumped with the sudden blaring sound.
Digby watched with despair as the plan they had come up with to use the jetty to enter the town became impossible, as the remaining ones still kept walking straight off the edge to pile up in a macabre pile of writhing bodies. The ones that could move still crawled towards the ship over the ones piled up below them, their attempts ending in failure when they plunged off the edge and into the deep water of the harbour.
Digby looked at the beach. A few stragglers still walked into the water towards them, eventually disappearing under the surface, as all those before them had. The water’s edge, though, was thick with the bodies of those washed back to shore by the incoming tide. They rolled slowly in the gentle surf that broke on the shore. Raising the binoculars that hung by a strap around his neck, he studied them. It was impossible to tell if they were alive or dead as the waves gently washed over them.
Some must surely be alive… mustn’t they? he thought glumly. It looked as if the plan would have to change dramatically after their first contact with the enemy, he decided ruefully. The jetty was unapproachable now due to the piled-up bodies, and landing on the beach looked too risky as nobody would know if they were alive or dead until they stepped amongst them.
He looked around for the section leaders amongst the ones still lining the rail, muttering to himself as he noticed them standing in a group, probably already discussing the dangers that were evident to all of them of even trying to get to shore.
“Back to the drawing board it is, then!”
Chapter Seventeen
Warwick Castle
Under guidance from the ship’s surgeon, the quantity of sedatives Marc was being administered was being reduced. Everyone was trying to be as positive as they could around him, but he even admitted to himself as well as to us that it would take him time to adjust to his new condition. He had joked, which proved he was trying to drag himself out from the deep state of unhappiness and depression he was in, saying that he was sorry if he had left them ‘shorthanded’ and if anyone asked him ‘if he could lend them a hand’, they’d better be a faster runner than he was.
After a few days pottering around the castle, I could tell that some people were getting restless. Walking across the courtyard, I looked up and saw Captain Hammond leaning on the ramparts looking over the grounds of the castle. I’d just finished helping Shawn and Jon rig up a water pipe from the river.
The castle would have employed a small army of maintenance staff responsible for the day-to-day repairs needed to keep the fabric of the historic and ancient building in good order. We had discovered the small yard and buildings they had used, hidden behind a gate when we’d searched the castle grounds. It had yielded a good supply of tools and other useful equipment, including some submersible water pumps which would most likely have been used if an area of the castle flooded for some reason.
Shawn, helped by me and a few others, joined a series of fire hoses together which, when the pump was plugged into the generator, delivered water from the river below. This water then passed through a series of cobbled together jerry-built filter systems to eventually fill thoroughly cleaned commercial waste bins to provide water for cooking, cleaning and flushing the toilets in the castle.
The system leaked and the filters were basic, but we knew through trial and error they could be improved over time. The water wasn’t fit for drinking and we were still using bottled water from our supplies, and although we had enough to last for a few weeks, they would need to be replenished or an acceptable way invented to make the water potable. With nothing better to do, I climbed the steps that reached up to the ramparts and joined Steve as he leant on the wall staring at the grounds and the town beyond them.
“Everything okay?” I asked cheerily, still pleased from the work I’d just completed. “The water system seems to be working fine, so at least we’ll be able to flush the toilets a bit more regularly now.” Steve snapped himself out of his reverie and looked at me as my words sunk in, before replying somewhat distantly.
“Oh, yes. Good work.” He looked over the walls again for a few moments before turning to me. “It’s just that I think we’ve done all we can here, and I know there’s a lot more still to do out there,” he said as he waved his hand towards the world beyond our sanctuary. “It’s just the ‘what’ part of to do I’m struggling with.”
I smiled at him. “So, you want to go out there and be a hero again. Is that what you’re trying to say?” I paused as I, too, looked outwards. “I think you’re right. We’ve got over the shock of Marc and we know the mistakes we made that let that happen. The castle is as secure as it’s going to be.” I slapped him on his back. “Unless you can find us a few tanks, of course.�
� I waited to continue, letting him laugh politely at my poor joke. “But I do know what you mean. I think we can start looking outwards again. There are still plenty of supplies to gather at that food warehouse and I know Shawn was saying we only have a few days’ worth of petrol for the generators remaining. Why don’t we raise it later after dinner? If we’re thinking this way, I’m sure others must be too.”
“Yes, good idea,” he replied. “Let’s do that. It’s not just that warehouse, and gathering more supplies for ourselves, though. I’m not saying that’s not an important job, but I’ve been thinking about how little we know about the rest of the country. There are still military and other officials trapped in bunkers and possibly other communities like us out there. At least, I hope to God there are. If we’re going to take this country back, it can’t just be the Navy and us few doing it, because there’s no way that’s going to be enough.” He sighed and paused to lean heavily on the solid stone blocks of the ramparts. “I just think that once this place is not just impregnable, but has enough supplies to last for an extended period, then it’s my duty to go out there to start doing what I can, no matter how small and insignificant it may be.
“I’m eager to hear how the Navy has fared in the Scilly isles. The plan and tactics we devised for them should hopefully make it as risk-free as possible, but as we know to our peril, nothing is risk free when we’re dealing with those undead bastards.” His voice turned sombre. “If they struggle against what should be a relatively small population on the islands, with all the resources and firepower they can bring to the party, then we will all have to rethink what to do next.”
He barked a short laugh and reproaching himself for his moment’s negativity, continued, “Ah, snap out of it, Steve! No point dwelling on what we don’t know about yet. Come on, do you fancy a little sparring practice? I’m still trying to get used to the weight of the armour and after a few swings, my mace feels like a twenty-pound sledgehammer.”
“Not just me, then,” I quipped back with a grin. “I don’t know how those boys do it. After five minutes I’m dripping with sweat, knackered and about to fall over, and if I do, there’s no way I’ll be able to get back up with all that weight on me. They can seem to keep doing it for hours. It does give you a lot of respect for medieval soldiers, though, and what they had to endure. I think they were a hell of a lot tougher than any of us.”
“Yep, I agree,” he replied as we both headed towards the stone steps to return to the courtyard. “I thought I was fit, but to fight with all that weight on, it’s a whole other level. I think this fitness programme Simon’s coming up with is going to do us all a world of good.”
An hour later, the two of us were exhausted and fit to drop, but at the same time happy. The two of us and a few others who joined us when they saw what we were doing had gone through the drills we’d been taught by the more experienced knights. Facing an invisible enemy, we had practised with the pikes and forming shield walls, all the time learning how to move wearing armour and how to handle our chosen weapons more efficiently
Chatting together, we all trooped into the Great Hall and began removing our armour. Looking up, I saw Becky walking into the room carrying a heavy box. Letting my armour drop to the stone floor with a loud clang, I went to help her. When I was two feet away from her, she took one look at my dishevelled, sweaty self and wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“Tom,” she said, “I know washing is something we haven’t been doing much of lately but look at the state of you.” She looked at the rest of the men and women who had been on the practice field and raised her voice. “And if you all stink like this man in front of me, I think Maud will have something to say about it. Ladies,” she said with a smile, “I know we’ve got more water to use now and I think Maud said she would heat some up for washing. If you want to go and help her, you can all have a nice hot wash.”
She then looked at me and the men. “As for you lot!” She laughed when as one, the men all instinctively raised their arms and tried to smell their armpits. “You tough men can use the water outside in the bins.”
“What, wash with cold water?” I exclaimed indignantly.
“Yes, if you want to come anywhere near me tonight,” she replied haughtily and walked off to join the women, who were heading for the kitchen area.
Half an hour later, ten men who had washed using the cold water in the bins decided it would be a good idea to light the fire in the Great Hall’s huge fireplace to try and stop shivering.
Willie emitted a belch as he scraped the last few morsels off his plate. Maud raised her eyebrows at what she considered a breach of etiquette at the dining table we had all crammed around. The table was huge, but there were so many of us around it, it reminded me of school dinners from my childhood, where too many of us sat on a bench and knocked elbows with our neighbour as we tried to eat the barely digestible food that the kitchen produced. The food this time, though, was excellent.
“Och, woman,” he said gruffly, his eyes betraying his humour, “it’s your fault for making such a fine meal. It was a sign of appreciation, that’s all.”
“Thank you, Willie,” she replied coyly. She still showed embarrassment when anyone offered her praise, which we all did a lot as she worked tirelessly. Always bustling around, making sure ‘her realm’ as she had begun to call the cooking and living quarters, were maintained to her satisfaction. “But I didn’t do it all by myself, you know. You should thank everyone that helped.”
“I know others helped, my dear,” he replied, trying to keep his expression serious. “But, you see, I like them and appreciate their efforts, but it’s you I love, so I’m sure they’ll excuse my rudeness at not including them.”
We all cheered and banged the table at his gallantry, as Maud once again went bright red with a mixture of elation and embarrassment, saying in a voice that was barely audible above the noise we were all making, “Stop it, you big silly man.”
When the room had quietened down, I stood up. “Come on, lads,” I said, “let’s get the washing up done and then we can all plan the next few days.” Gathering up the dishes and plates, we soon had the table cleared, the dishes washed and stacked neatly in the kitchen. Then we went back to the others, including Marc, who had insisted that we help him from his bed so he could join us, and we all settled down in our favourite chairs around the still blazing fire.
Helping ourselves to a drink, everyone sat in companionable silence for a time, comforted and mesmerised by the dancing flames.
Steve stopped our daydreaming by coughing to get our attention and saying, “Right, folks, I think we have everything in the castle as good as it needs to be for now.” He looked at Marc. “Marc, you’re on the mend now, which is fantastic news. But we still need to gather more supplies and a whole host of other things which I know are still not ticked off the list.”
Marc used his good hand and gently raised his arm that was still covered in bandages in the air. The room quietened down as we all realised he wanted to speak.
“I’ve had time to do a lot of thinking the past few days. Now that the sedatives have worn off and I’m not hallucinating anymore and seeing pink rabbits flying over the bed,” he said with a smile, waiting for the chuckles to subside before continuing, his face now full of emotion. “I haven’t thanked you all yet for what you’ve done for me. I know I said some horrible things and I apologise unreservedly for them, but I wasn’t in my right mind. All I could think about was not being with my family and the promise I made to them over their graves that one day I would join them.” Tears began to run down his face as the still raw memory of their tragic deaths hit him again.
“I know now I’m not ready to fulfil that promise. One day I will be, but for now I’ll serve their legacy better by continuing and fighting on as best I can. I may not be able to wield a pike yet but when I am healed, maybe we can make a prosthetic or something that will enable me to.
Fighting may be out of the question for now, but s
oon I’ll be able to use one hand to fire a pistol or swing an axe or sword. Until then, you don’t need two hands to keep guard.”
He paused and looked at us all as we sat in silence.
“I suppose what I’m trying to say is thank you and I do not intend to be a burden, but to keep helping in whatever way I can.”
The room remained quiet until Jamie spoke up. He’d been the one who chopped his arm off in the aftermath of the brief fight with the zombies; saving his life in doing so. He’d made himself his primary carer ever since and had rarely been away from his bedside. Caring for all his needs and always trying to lift his spirits when he was in the depths of despair.
“Mate, you don’t know how guilty I’ve felt. I’ve been filled with doubt about whether it was the right thing to do or not, and if we should have let you fulfil what was, as you thought at the time, your dying wish. Now, with what you’ve just said, I know it was the right thing to do.” He stood and walked over to him and being careful to avoid his arm hugged him, saying as he did so, “Welcome back, mate.”
Ian couldn’t keep the conversation serious anymore and spoke up, “Oh no! Keep Jamie away from me in future. If one of us gets the tiniest of scratches on them, he’s going to start swinging that axe of his around, thinking he’s Florence Bloody Nightingale, out to save all out lives.”
When the room had stopped laughing Steve carried on with the discussion he’d begun before Marc had interrupted him. “As I was saying, now we’re back to full strength, I think we should start looking outwards again; not just for our own needs, but at the wider world around us.
Zombie Castle Series (Book 4): ZC Four Page 12
