Z-Series | Book 6 | Z-Endgame

by Hatchett

  Mamba and Ahmed watched the zombies wandering around and thought about how they were going to do it. Mamba then noticed that Dev and his tractor wasn’t part of the cordon and had parked up nearby, waiting for further instructions.

  “Tell Dev ta drive ‘round the other side ‘n hit the horn,” Mamba ordered.

  Ahmed did as he was told, and they soon saw the tractor moving to the far side followed by the horn being pressed intermittently. As expected, the zombies in the circle all headed towards the tractor.

  “Ya ready?” Mamba asked, pulling out his two Bowie knives.

  “I’m always ready,” Ahmed said with a grin.

  “Well, stop talkin’ ‘n get killin’.”

  Ahmed opened his door and got out. Mamba swiftly shuffled across the centre console and followed Ahmed and they both headed to the nearest zombies and started stabbing them in the backs of their heads. The other men saw what was happening and quickly joined in, and it wasn’t long before they had a safe area.

  “Time ta get dirty!” Mamba shouted, bending over the nearest body, and slitting it wide open. Within minutes, they were all covered in blood and guts.

  When they were done, they jumped over the cars and helped Dev get out of the tractor unharmed and get himself dirty. Then they all headed past the supermarket and down a block paved pedestrian walkway called Borough Parade, window shopping as they passed a variety of boutique-type shops all along the fifty-metre stretch. There were zombies everywhere, so it had obviously been a busy shopping day when the outbreak reached the town. Mamba thought back and recalled that it all started on a Saturday, and whilst it might have taken a day or so for the outbreak to reach to this godforsaken place, he would’ve expected everyone to have gone home to hide or prepare. Instead, the residents either didn’t care or they thought the news reports were bullshit.

  As they exited the walkway, a pub called ‘The Grey Goose’, appeared on their left. The main part of the building stuck out over the river, and it was only when they got inside that they saw an outdoor seating terrace to one side, overlooking the river. The pub had been busy when the shit hit the fan, and it took Mamba and his men a good few minutes before they were satisfied there were no further dangers lurking around.

  “Wanna feed the ducks?” Mamba asked, staring out of the window towards the river.

  Ahmed wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not, but the last thing he wanted to do was feed any bloody ducks.

  “Nah, bro. Jus’ a few beers.”

  Basir was already standing behind the large bar handing over bottles of beer, spirits, tonics, and snacks. Ahmed grabbed two beers and handed one to Mamba then, as an afterthought, grabbed a couple of packets of peanuts.

  They wandered over to the other side of the pub and pushed through the doors leading to the terrace. They had to put their beers down as they took care of the handful of zombies in the space, but being September there clearly hadn’t been that many people using it at the time of the outbreak and most had probably run indoors anyway.

  They selected a picnic bench overlooking the water and, despite the breeze, it was almost pleasant. They could see the water flowing slowly past, hear the quacking of ducks from below and the grunts of more zombies on the other side of the metal fence enclosing the terrace.

  “It’s a shame,” Mamba said.

  “What is?” Ahmed asked.

  “That zombie over there woulda been a right looker. I’d’ve given her one.”

  “Ya still can,” Ahmed said, smirking.

  Mamba wrinkled his nose.

  “I ain’t that desperate.”

  “Yeah, ya are.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, taking in the relative peace and quiet of their surroundings. Ahmed opened a packet of peanuts and started eating. He stood up and lobbed one into the water and watched in fascination as the ducks homed in on the treat.

  “Thought ya didn’t want ta feed the ducks,” Mamba said scornfully.

  “Changed me mind,” Ahmed replied, lobbing in a few more in different places and watching the ducks swim off after them.

  Then he poured the rest of the packet into his hand and threw them all in at once. The ducks went mad, pecking indiscriminately in all directions, causing a couple to face off over a stray peanut. By this time, Mamba was laughing and had grabbed the second packet of nuts so he could join in the fun, purposely throwing the nuts halfway between two birds to see if he could cause more fights. It was a sight to behold seeing two large ducks flapping their wings at each other.

  “Remind me not ta swim wiv the fuckin’ ducks,” Mamba said with a laugh.

  “Oh yeah? Bloody piranhas would jump outta the fuckin’ water if they saw ya comin’.”

  “What?” Mamba asked, confused.

  “Piranha. Fish that bite,” Ahmed explained.

  Mamba still looked confused.

  The pub doors slammed and Basir, Dev and Emre came outside bringing a few more beers with them.

  “Take a seat, boys,” Mamba encouraged, accepting one of the beers handed to him and tossing his empty towards one of the ducks swimming nearby. “Ya bring any nuts?”

  “Nah,” Basir confirmed. “They’re all gone.”

  “Pork Scratchin’s?”

  “Gone.”

  “Crisps?”

  “Gone.”

  “Scampi Fries?”

  “Gone.”

  “Twiglets?”

  “Gone.”

  “Why didn’t ya jus’ say everythin’ is fuckin’ gone instead of lettin’ me go through every snack under the sun?”

  “How was I to know you’d keep asking?” Basir said. “You only asked about nuts, then you started asking about…”

  “Never mind,” Mamba interrupted, bored of the conversation.

  “Well, if you’d asked if there were any snacks rather than nuts…”

  “Shut up!” Mamba almost screamed. “I don’t fuckin’ care!”

  “Ya reckon there’s anyone left alive ‘round here?” Ahmed asked, gazing towards the river, trying to diffuse the building tension.

  “Who gives a fuck?” Mamba shot back, surveying the sky for helicopters.

  “Ya still reckon the ‘copters’ll still be comin’?” Ahmed asked as he saw Mamba scanning around.

  “Yep.”

  The rest of the small group looked up to the sky as if expecting a helicopter to appear any second.

  “Then we oughta get movin’,” Ahmed suggested. “We either need ta get organised ta fight or put some distance between us ‘n ‘em.”

  “We can’t drive away,” Mamba said patiently, as if teaching a child, “’Cos they’d find it bloody easy ta track us down.”

  “OK, so, we’re stayin’” Ahmed confirmed.

  “We could get a boat,” Dev suggested.

  Mamba and Ahmed paused, then stared at Dev.

  “What?” Dev asked, beginning to feel a bit nervous under their glare.

  “Fuck me. Not as daft as I thought,” Mamba said, turning to look back at the river.

  Sure enough, there were boats moored on either side of the river. He quickly pulled out his map and spread it across the table.

  After some time studying the map and drinking his beer, Mamba finally sat back and found them all looking at him in expectation.

  “Well?” Ahmed asked, when Mamba didn’t say anything.

  “Shit idea,” Mamba said.

  “What do ya mean? Seemed like a good idea a few minutes ago,” Ahmed pointed out.

  “Goes the wrong way,” Mamba explained.

  Ahmed laughed.

  “How can a river go the wrong way when it goes both ways?”

  “’Cos, smartarse, one way goes West and the other goes North.”

  “Let me have a look,” Ahmed said, dragging the map around so he could see it properly.

  His finger traced the river in both directions, then did it again.

  “I see what ya mean, bro, but if we go this way,” he pointed
to the river heading North, “then we can either get off by the M4, or we can take this other river ‘n go to a place called Calne.”

  “Already tol’ ya the M4 ain’t the best ‘n that other river looks too small.”

  “It’s on a fuckin’ map. ‘Course its gonna look small,” Ahmed pointed out.

  Mamba shrugged.

  “OK, let’s give it a go, but if yer wrong Ahmed, yer’ll be swimmin’ the rest of the way. Basir, get the men, find some decent boats ‘n load our gear from the cars.”

  Basir nodded and he, Dev and Emre headed off to sort things out.

  10

  Day 25 – 11:45

  Corsham

  Issy walked along Paul Street with Jack and Pete, her team spreading out along the route to provide cover. They had left Bear and his team searching the town.

  They were scanning the houses on either side of the road looking for the gnome Issy had been told about.

  “It’s a foot high, has a red pointy hat, white curly beard on a chubby pink face, a bright blue tunic, black boots and it’s holding a sign saying, ‘Go away!’” she explained.

  “Charming,” Jack said.

  “What is?” Issy asked.

  “Saying ‘go away’,” Jack elaborated. “Maybe he doesn’t like visitors.

  “There it is,” Pete said, pointing to a house on their left.

  Issy saw that the house was number twelve, a semi with a small front garden and parking to the side. The garden was overgrown and the fence surrounding it had seen better days. The gate swung open with a slight squeak and they passed the offending gnome on the way to the blue front door. There was no bell, so Issy used the knocker attached to the post box.

  Within a minute or so, the door was opened by a frail looking older man with white hair and a florid face.

  “Hi, are you Ernie?” Issy asked.

  “That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” he replied.

  Issy smiled.

  “I’m Issy and this is Jack and Pete,” she introduced them all.

  “And I’m eighty-four and time is short, so what do you want?”

  “We’re looking for Mamba,” Issy said, deciding to cut to the chase.

  She had been planning for some small talk, but old Ernie was obviously not the talkative type. Ernie smiled as if he was thinking fondly of a favourite nephew or son.

  “Mad as a hatter that boy,” Ernie said. “Trouble too. I would avoid him if I were you. Walk in the opposite direction.”

  “If only,” Issy replied, sarcastically. “Do you know where we can find him?”

  “You’re too late, he’s gone. Left earlier this morning.”

  “Do you know which way he went or where he was going?”

  “He was picking up his cars at the Farm. No idea where he went after that.”

  “Can you tell me where this farm is?”

  “You want him really badly, don’t you girl?” he asked.

  “We have a bit of history,” Issy agreed.

  “I don’t doubt it,” Ernie remarked, “but I’d still steer well clear of him if I were you.”

  Ernie then described the location of the farm. Issy thanked him for his time and, once the front door had been closed again, Issy quickly relayed the information to Bear and his team and told them to get to the farm quickly but carefully, in case Mamba was still around.

  11

  Day 25 – 12:15

  Corsham

  Bear followed the directions given by Issy and once they reached the farm, slowly entered the quad, and fanned out, covering all angles in case they were walking into a trap.

  It was immediately clear that something had happened there, but exactly what was difficult to tell. There were a few bodies lying around, and on closer inspection Bear saw that they were zombies and had been stabbed in the head. Probably Mamba. He signalled for his men to spread out further, looking for any further trace, while he studied the bodies a little longer; a man in army uniform, a blond-haired woman, a female dwarf and what looked like another woman who had been torn in two. Christ, she must’ve pissed Mamba off badly to end up that way. Bear could only imagine what she must have gone through. The blood was drying, but still sticky so it must have all happened within the last few hours.

  Bear heard a several ‘pfft’ sounds and started running up the track towards the noise as more of his men converged from other directions.

  As he rounded the corner of a large barn, he saw four of his men shooting a handful of zombies who were heading in their direction. Nothing to worry about. He clicked his comms.

  “Issy, we’re at the farm. A few dead bodies but no sign of Mamba. He’s gone but we may have an idea of which way he went, and it can’t have been too long ago because the blood is still relatively fresh.”

  “Roger, head back to the main square, we’ll meet you there.”

  “Roger. We just need to block off a track otherwise the town will be open to the zombies.”

  “Roger. Quick as you can.”

  “You might want to get the Apache’s up and about,” Bear suggested.

  “Roger.”

  By the time Bear had finished talking to Issy, he saw that his men had taken out the remaining zombies. He couldn’t see where they had come from, but it was clear that a barrier must have been removed somewhere up the track and he didn’t want the town being put at risk. He looked around and spotted some vehicles dotted about and arranged for his men to move them to block off the track. He and his team then started making their way back towards the town’s main square.

  As they walked along the pathway from the farm to the town, the two Apaches flew towards and over them, just a little higher than the surrounding trees. Bear clicked his comms and told the pilots what he had found and where he wanted them to go.

  12

  Day 25 – 12:30

  Corsham

  Bear and his team entered the square and saw Issy, Jack and Pete straightaway. He made a beeline for them as his team spread out to reinforce Issy’s men.

  “What’s the plan?” Bear asked as he approached.

  “Just waiting for an update from the birds,” Issy replied.

  “Mamba’s definitely gone,” Bear confirmed. “He must have gone up the track we found; there were tyre marks from a number of vehicles and the fact that zombies were heading towards us suggests he’s taken out at least one of the barriers along the way.”

  “Typical Mamba. He didn’t give a shit for the people in this town,” Issy remarked.

  “Maybe he was in a rush,” Bear countered.

  Issy thought about it. Had Mamba been at the farm when they flew in? She looked at her watch. That would mean they were only an hour or two behind him.

  As she was thinking this, their comms clicked, and the pilot of the first Apache came through.

  “This is Apache One. We think we can see where they went. They’ve left a nice path with vehicles shunted out of the way and dead zombies littered all over the ground, over.”

  Issy clicked her earpiece.

  “Roger. Where?”

  “Looks like he’s gone to Chippenham. Over.”

  “Roger. Keep looking for signs of him leaving the area then then meet back at the landing area and refuel.”

  “Roger, will do.”

  The earpieces clicked off.

  “We need a map,” Issy said, looking around.

  Pete ran off to the nearby supermarket and came back a few minutes later holding a ‘Great Britain’ atlas.

  “The townspeople moved everything from nearby shops into the supermarket,” he explained with a smile.

  Issy took the proffered book and turned the cover to the contents page which was effectively a map of the UK with clearly identified squares which showed which page would have the more detailed area maps. She turned to the double page which covered Corsham and the surrounding areas and studied the page for a few minutes, with Bear wandering over to look over her shoulder.

  “Chippenham is only fiv
e kilometres away,” Issy remarked for the benefit of everyone gathered around. “There aren’t many main roads leading out of the town and they will probably be snarled up with traffic, so either it’ll take him a long time to get back out or he’s stuck.”

  “We need to be careful he’s not holing up and waiting for us to turn up,” Bear suggested. “He likes his traps.”

  “Yeah, I did wonder if the bastard had seen us arrive. He could have been at the farm when we flew in.”

  “If he was, then he can’t have missed us.”

  “Let’s get back to Irish and decide what to do next.”

  “Follow me,” Pete ordered. “I know a far easier way of getting back which doesn’t involve going underground.”

  The group moved off with Pete leading the way, and Jack strolled up beside Issy and Bear.

  “Are you sure you really want to do this?” he asked, knowing full well what was on Issy’s mind.

  “We know where he is, and he can’t get out easily, plus the fact that he’s only got fifty men with him, far less than we have. Surely, it’s better to try and take him out now, rather than waiting and wondering if and when he might attack Heathrow again?”

  “True, but as Bear said, he could be setting traps and it wouldn’t take too many surprises to even up the numbers. Don’t forget, they’re well-armed and capable of setting bombs anywhere they like.”

  “Maybe we should just surround the town and wait him out?” Bear suggested.

  “That could take years and covering all the routes would spread us too thin,” Issy replied. “There’s sure to be sufficient supplies in the town to keep them going. No, we need to think of a way to lure him out or get him to give away his position.”

  “Then we send in the Apache’s to finish him off,” Bear said, with a wide smile on his face at the thought.

  “No chance,” Issy replied, watching as Bear’s smile was replaced by a confused frown. “This is personal, and I want to look him in the eyes when I blow his head off.”

  “Is it worth the risk?” Bear asked.

  One look at Issy’s face told him that it was. He looked at Jack and shrugged. Jack grinned. He hadn’t expected anything else from Issy.