by Oliver Smith
“We’ll have to leave the scarecrows.” James said to himself.
“Are you okay mate?” Jack asked, looking worried as James stared at the floor.
“Fuck no. Fucking world. It’s fucked.” James said letting the swearing vent his disgust at the situation.
“We need to get Patrick wrapped up and give him a proper burial. What am I going to say to his wife and kids? Shit.” James was close to tears, something Jack had never seen before. He put his hand on James’ shoulder which seemed to give him back a little composure.
-
The remaining seven managed the rest of the supply run without any casualties and were silent and efficient as the events of the day had been forced to the back of their minds by the tasks at hand.
The two remaining vans pulled up to their parking spots outside of the village. With Arthur returned safely and the supplies for the various projects secured, James asked Jack to accompany him to the Doctor to check on Eddie, he wanted the company and was bracing himself for bad news. The chances of survival were slim; the risk of bringing an infected person into the community could be catastrophic. James asked the rest of the guys to get some help to unload the raided goods into the barn.
Jack and James sprinted to the Doctor’s house and ran into the room. The Doctor was running through supplies with a note pad and pen, he turned and smiled at them. James relaxed a little, it was a good sign.
“How is he?” James asked out of breath.
“How’s who?” Ed asked.
“Eddie.” Jack said, realising that the Doctor might be confused with his answer due to the Doctor having the same name.
“Eddie was bitten on our run, so we cut off his leg, Scott, John and Lucy brought him here!” James was shouting, not at the Doctor, but due to the strain that had built up inside him after a day from hell.
“Nobody has come to me James. You’re the first back as far as I can tell.” The Doctor’s smile had vanished and he looked on, confounded and concerned.
“Oh fucking hell.” James fell back into a chair and put his head in his hands.
“Lucy.” Jack muttered under his breath.
Chapter 39 - Command
“You did what?” The Colonel asked Captain Anthony Rogers.
“You said improvise sir.” The Captain responded meekly.
“We need these people on our side, we should not be threatening them. We need them as much as they need us, maybe we need them more.” The Colonel said and stayed silent as Anthony stood to attention and waited for further instruction.
Captain Anthony Rogers had changed a lot since James and Jack had known him at school, tours in Iraq and Afghanistan and over 15 years serving in the Army had provided him with training, guile, and intelligence. The 16-year-old boy who lacked the brains to amount to much had been shaped by the forces and was a rounded and respected soldier whose men would willingly follow his orders and die for him on his command. He wouldn’t put his men in needless jeopardy though; he was a keen tactician and would not undertake unnecessary risks. He wasn’t sure the same could be said of the chain of command and nagging doubts had been eating away at him as to whether he would follow orders if he disagreed with them. For now though, he was careful to toe the party line.
“That will be all Captain, you’re dismissed.” The Colonel said to Anthony as the latter saluted and swiftly left the Colonel’s office.
The Colonel was worried. He hadn’t heard from command in three days and had limited communication with other units. He had radioed frequently, but the radio silence was a worry he was carrying alone. Many of the troops under his command were inexperienced and young and they were being carried by a sense of purpose, waiting, and preparing to fight back in a coordinated and strong response to the uprising. The radio silence, the Colonel knew, was bad news, in this case, the phrase no news is good news, didn’t ring true and even with his twenty years’ experience in a variety of warzones, he felt rudderless and unable to make a decision. For now, he’d try and keep things going as normal and continue to attempt to raise a response from command.
The Colonel, Daniel Stone, was public school educated and very smart. He had seen a lot in his 49-year existence, he’d seen the best and worst in humanity in the forces, from the enemy and from within his own ranks. Quite often, war was far from black and white and the immense stresses on the human psyche made people irrational and dangerous. He had never been the type of boot camp instructor to shout and holler at his men, although he did need to be autocratic due to the nature of the army and his elevated rank, but he understood the human mind well and realised that continual denigration of the soul is counterproductive, and people need to feel some love in order to perform at peak levels.
Daniel had become disillusioned with the army about 10 years earlier, but it was all he knew and was a part of him, so soldiered on despite himself. He had been part of the invasion of Iraq that was justified as part of the weapons of mass destruction lie. He commanded 120 soldiers as Major in that war and was responsible for many deaths as Saddam Hussein’s forces fought in vain to keep their land. Overall there were about 460,000 deaths, many civilians in that number, and the fight was all for a lie. True, Saddam Hussein was a despicable person responsible for atrocities, with over 250 mass graves suspected to be down to the dictator’s orders. The man wiped out up to 100,000 Kurdish people using chemical weapons and was ruthless and evil in equal measures, the list of his crimes against humanity were long and gruesome. Had Daniel and his men been sent to war to dispose of this evil leader, he would have gladly accepted that, but the politics and lies behind the invasion along with the lack of foresight into the power vacuum left behind made him question the validity of the armed forces when led by such fallible people. It wasn’t just the lies and the inept leadership; it was the lack of action too. He was tired of seeing children suffer, such as in Syria where war was raging, and a once beautiful nation had been turned to ruins with barely any action from the UK. It was the apathy to the whole conflict that angered Daniel more than anything, the Government bickered over minute policy details and was not concerned about the children that were being bombed and subjected to weaponised chemical attacks. The public weren’t outraged either, they were concerned with the banal, the latest reality star’s outfit or the latest millionaire footballer’s new house. Daniel, however, was still a soldier, so put his thoughts to the back of his mind and followed orders and carried on regardless.
Today’s war was far from black and white either. His troops might see it differently, living versus the dead, a fight to extinction. Daniel knew this wasn’t the case, although he had more intelligence than his men, namely the radio silence and a seeming breakdown in the chain of command. This war wasn’t about extinction, it was about survival, and he didn’t have enough men or fire power to take the fight to the dead. He’d seen his peers attempt aggressive tactics in the early onset of the outbreak and that ended in bloodshed and contributed to increasing the number of dead roaming the streets. Yes, he was certain that the war was about survival and creating a sustainable plan to help foster a future for his unit and their families.
Daniel’s wife and two teenage daughters live on the compound, many of the men and women in the ranks also have family who had moved into the complex thanks to the foresight of Daniel. It was cramped and living conditions weren’t ideal, but they were together, and keeping loved ones close and under the army’s protection meant that the men and women enlisted were much more efficient and determined soldiers.
Although a leader, Daniel was still a human being and still subject to the same anxieties and stresses that the current existence created, and although his exterior showed nothing but composure, deep inside he was worried about what the radio silence meant. Of course, command could have equipment failure, they could be entrenched, fighting off the dead, but in reality, Daniel knew that these options were unlikely. Somebody would have fixed the comms by now or if they were fighting, there would be some s
ort of communication to provide an update. Daniel knew deep down that command was dead. He didn’t know what was happening above that, he knew there was a skeleton Government making decisions, but he wasn’t even sure if they were in the same location as command. He had been given only the information needed for him to do his job; he was in the dark about a lot of things.
He’d already made his decision on his unit’s next move, but wanted to delay any actions, including telling Anthony and his men what his thoughts were. He wanted to wait another week to ensure that command was permanently silent before he enlisted the trust of their neighbours.
Daniel had been monitoring the community a couple of miles away and had been marvelling at their industry and organisation. In many ways, they were lightyears ahead of the army, having nothing but survival as a goal, whereas his responsibility had initially been fighting, and then, when that proved futile, waiting for the coordinated response from the chain of command. The community had already put in place plans for facilities, food, education and were working together in harmony to make it happen. Daniel was in awe and knew that he and his men, women and their families would need to pull together in a similar fashion for their long-term survival, maybe for humanity’s survival.
Ironically, the Colonel had joined the army for peace. He wanted to be in a position to halt evil and provide a foundation for peace to prosper. He was still as idealistic as when he first joined the army, and this was why his plan involved establishing trust and eventually joining forces with the community to build a bigger, more organised, and more secure group. Thanks to Anthony and his superior attitude towards civilians, this task had been made all the more difficult. Not impossible, but challenging. Daniel, however, enjoyed a challenge and rarely failed.
Chapter 40 - Remains
Jack and James sat in silence, neither of them knew what to say or do. Something had gone wrong, but neither of them knew what, the only fact they were faced with was that Lucy, Scott, John, and the injured Eddie were not back and there was no sign of the van.
Having gone back out in the van again to search for the missing group immediately after visiting the doctor’s house, Jack and James had returned to the village once more when the day’s light started fading.
“We’ve got to go out and look for them. I can’t lose her.” Jack said, almost pleadingly to James.
James looked at his childhood friend with sympathetic eyes, he knew how much Jack had lost already in his life and had seen his friend looking happy for the first time in years, which was incredible considering the devastation of the world.
“We haven’t been back long, and we’ll attract too many of the dead if we take the van in the dark, but if you want to go, we’ll go together.” James said with resignation, he couldn’t stop Jack from going and although he couldn’t face any more tragedy for one day, it was a challenge he couldn’t shirk.
“How?” Jack asked simply.
James was silent for a short period trying to understand what Jack meant and then flickered in understanding, “I’ve got a couple of bikes, it’s a clear night so we should be able to see in the moonlight.”
“Okay, can we get going now?” Jack said eagerly.
-
They cycled hard to get to the main road and traced the journey that the missing van was supposed to take, having already done so only an hour or two before. It was the only lead they had and was the only way to go.
The moon light gave the night a silver glow as the two cyclists freewheeled, stood on peddles like children exhilarated with the gentle pleasure of their bikes. They weren’t enjoying the ride however; they stood on the peddles to peer over hedge backs and obstacles to take in the rolling fields with their silver shimmer, to look for signs of the missing people and of course, the ever present dead.
The road was quiet, no doubt the scarecrows that were abandoned earlier that day were continuing their bangs luring the dead towards them, until they eventually ran out of gas or the battery ran out.
“What’s that down there, there’s a break in the hedge?” Jack asked as he kicked with added oomph to close the gap. James followed suit and caught Jack and brought his bike to stop with a wide skid whilst dismounting the bike.
“What is it?” James shouted.
“The van!” Jack shouted as he ran out of sight behind the hedge. The van was on its side and muddy trails showed that it slid some distance. They rounded the skittled vehicle and moved to the back doors that were lying open.
James uttered a curse under his breath. Jack peered in and quickly looked away. There was blood covering the interior, more blood than feasibly possible in Jack’s view. Slumped against the van wall, body crumpled with a gaping wound on the right side of his temple, laid Eddie. From the grisly view, it looked like Eddie had turned, and turned quickly.
“It’s bad isn’t it?” Jack said feeling lost,
“Not as bad as it could be, the others aren’t here. We should be able to get a trail through the field though. We’ll find them mate.” James said summoning up all the motivational sway that he could muster.
They spread out around the van and were quick to find trampled crops showing that Lucy, Scott, and John had come this way. They followed the trail, the moonlight ample enough to illuminate enough detail. Just over the brow of the field, James stopped, grabbing Jack’s arm to halt his progress, motioning for Jack to be quiet as he crouched, Jack followed suit, “Look over there, the house, there’s got to be ten or 15 of the fuckers surrounding it.” James whispered in a tone that was urgent, but also meant the whisper was just as audible as his normal tone.
“They’ve got to be in there, they must have taken shelter.” Jack said, ready to ambush the house.
“Fuck, look.” James’ face startled Jack as he turned to see what had caused the expletive. Jack followed James’ look and saw, crumpled in one of the field’s troughs, a body. They worked their way to the body, making themselves as low as possible to avoid attracting the hungry guests outside the house.
“No - John.” James said as he looked down at the body.
“That’s not right.” Jack said puzzled and horrified in equal measures, it was clear to him at first glance.
“What?”
“Look, he’s been-” Jack stumbled on the words and then blurted, “Murdered. Look.” Pointing to John’s chest. A large dark stain, that looked black in the moonlight, covered John’s chest. James leaned forward and lifted John’s jumper, he grimaced as he looked at the wound and saw what looked like a puncture, a knife wound.
“You’re right, some fucker’s stabbed him. The dead don’t do that. Some fucker’s killed him.” James’ voice was almost a frenzied shout and the dead were beginning to notice their presence. James looked up at them and pulled out his knife, “Come on, let’s kill those fuckers and get them out of the house.”
Jack unsheathed his own knife and they charged with their knives held above their heads, civilisation completely washed from their constitution.
The day had been long, exhausting and stressful, but James and Jack fought with a source of electrifying energy, driven by the injustice of the day, each blow to the dead lightening the feeling of remorse and replacing it with a satisfying sense of vengeance. The dead were quick to die, blood sprayed, bones cracked, flesh tore, and cartilage snapped as the two childhood friends ruthlessly and determinedly sliced, stabbed, and smashed at the dead with eager relish.
The last of the dead fell and the two men stopped, looking at each other, panting heavily from the rigours of the fight, both covered from head to toe in the gore of battle. They turned and made for the front door.
The door was poorly barricaded from inside and with a shoulder barge, James forced it open and they hurried inside. The room was dark due to the boarding on the windows, but everything was still and calm inside, Jack called, “Lucy”, but there was no answer, or movement.
They split up and Jack reached the kitchen at the back of the house, the back door was o
pen, and he inched closer to the opening and the scene came sliding into view.
“No. No. Nooooooo.” Jack whispered to himself in despair, looking out to the field stretching off the back of the house, he saw Lucy. It was her. She was walking away from the house, but Jack was not filled with joy, no, he recognised the way she moved, the unnatural way she was dragging her leg as she stumbled away. Jack was too late, he looked on and slumped his weight onto the kitchen counter as the energy sapped from his body.
Chapter 41 - Old Friends
James found Jack with his head in his hands sobbing uncontrollably like an immature child deprived of its favourite toy.
“What is it?” James asked.
“Look, out there, we were too late. Look at her, she’s already dead.” Jack said struggling with his breathing and slumped motionless in grief.
James walked out, checking for any predators, and looked at the figure moving away, he couldn’t be sure from the distance, but it looked like Lucy. He walked towards her. Closing the distance, it was undoubtedly Lucy.
Jack followed James outside and watched on. James pulled out his knife and looked back at Jack, he understood what James was implying and nodded. He knew Lucy would not want her body roaming around devouring the living; she would have done the same for him. It wasn’t something that they’d talked about, it was an unspoken understanding between them.
James walked on in slow pursuit of Lucy’s spiritless body, moving closer he stepped on a twig that audibly cracked. With the noise, Lucy span, she was wielding a small axe, her baseball bat no longer with her, she wasn’t dead. Spotting the knife James held, she raged in fury.
“Lucy, it’s Jack!” Jack screamed in a delirious cry as he started running through the field towards her. James lowered his knife and it was only then that Lucy saw who was pursuing her and relaxed her hold on the axe, her body swayed as she balanced awkwardly, she was in pain and had injured her leg. She grinned, but it was a little maniacal. Jack approached her and held her steady asking, “Are you okay, Lucy?”
