by Oliver Smith
“Discussions?” Jack asked.
“That’s all I ask, civilised and constructive discussions about a bigger, stronger and more secure community. For our future, all of our futures.” Daniel said with conviction.
James was finding that he quite liked Daniel despite his best efforts. He’d assumed he’d be some sort of bumbling army caricature offering platitudes and clichés, but he seemed smart and driven.
“What if HQ decides a path for us that we don’t like?” James asked, testing Daniel to see if this pleasant mood was just a veneer covering something uglier.
“There is no HQ. As of four days ago, I have been unable to reach them, so I am no longer in the army, I am part of a group of people who will need to work together to build a sustainable future.
“Please keep this information to yourself as only you and I know.” He added as an afterthought.
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” James said offering his hand, he wasn’t fazed by the news of failing command lines, he’d assumed there was no rescue long ago. Daniel shook James’ hand and stood.
“Right, we should get organised, we’ll go and see Captain Rogers and enlist some men to your service.”
Chapter 44 - Routine
There was surprisingly little resistance to the military aid. James had thought the security guys would take issue with their noses being pushed out of joint, but there were no ill feelings. The community was still in shock at losing four people in one day. Four exceptional people. The mood was low and the worry about a potential sniper or someone lurking in the shadows to garrotte an unlucky passer-by added an almost unbearable tension to the air.
The army’s presence lifted the weight off the community, it had started to show cracks under the strain. Gil remained vilified by a large part of the group as gossip flowed about his desertion of Harold. A victim of circumstance, in both cases.
Life went back to normal, as the army kept up their search for the hidden menace. People were busy, planting, tending to animals, constructing facilities, life was simple and because of that good.
Jack, Lucy, and Chloe settled into a routine. Jack and Chloe had tried to play housemaid to Lucy while her knee recovered, but she soon got sick of the fuss and loss of independence, so she got involved in the running of the community. They were happy, life was simple, they’d work, sleep, eat and play. Chloe had become more outgoing under the tutelage of Magda and had taken fondly to family life with Lucy and Jack. She still had bouts of sadness and depression over the loss of her parents, but as time passed she talked more and the process of mourning unfolded to enable the little girl to cope with traumas one so young shouldn’t have had to handle.
Jack and Lucy were woven together more than ever, the time they spent together was natural and cherished by both. Their personalities and experiences had meshed them together perfectly and they felt as though they’d known each other all their lives. They also felt as though this new world was all they’d ever known; they didn’t miss the trinkets and needless luxuries of the old ways.
Talks between the community committee and Colonel Daniel Stone and Captain Anthony Rogers took place to discuss a larger community. They were constructive; shared power, joint decision making, an integrated and equal society. The plans almost sounded utopian. Both parties were pushing for a future based on the same principles. Even Anthony had softened his earlier arrogant view on civilians and offered expertise where it mattered.
The army patrolled the area surrounding the village for three months. There was no sign of the aggressor, but they swept away anyway. The mission evolved in this time with the foresight of Daniel and Arthur to include a comprehensive survey of the surrounding land to establish natural boundaries, places to secure and testing the feasibility of building a perimeter around the village.
Roger finally gave in to his ongoing and cruel battle against cancer. The village took the news badly and it hit James particularly hard. He was like a mentor to James and his passing also meant more responsibility. Roger was the unofficial Head of State in the village and people were drawn to him, he was an excellent leader whose strength of personality and common sense made him well liked and he’d been supported unanimously. James may have been the driving force behind the scenes, but it was Roger who commanded their loyalty, and James would now need everyone to share their loyalty with him.
Beth was now eight and a half months pregnant and was really showing. The Doctor kept a close eye on her, but he was pleased that everything seemed to be going perfectly. Beth and James’ son or daughter would be the first born after the breakdown of society and there was much excitement in the community. Lucy and Beth had become close and they enjoyed the excitement of preparing for the arrival.
Water did eventually run out, but Arthur had overseen the construction of a large structure that caught rainwater. So far, it was working perfectly, and people were able to take water centrally. Shower blocks were created from the barn drain off so people could shower, albeit in cold water, but most people just showered in the rain. Hygiene was more relaxed and was one of the biggest changes that people actually noticed.
The solar panel system had been a success too. Using car batteries, solar panels, and a solar inverter, they had transformed one of the farm’s outbuildings as a fridge and freezer room. The batteries stored the excess energy generated in the day and kept an assortment of fridges and freezers from the community’s homes running. They had the ability to keep food fresh which meant a great deal not only to the group’s wellbeing, but their moral too.
Scott kept himself to himself mostly, reading and occasionally joining Jack and James at one of their houses for food and drinks.
Quite a few of the community had started brewing their own alcohol and batches kept turning up in the storeroom for people to help themselves to. Food worked in a similar fashion, people took what they needed, but where there were limited supplies, they were boxed into equal portions for the community to take. People were generally honest, there were occasional petty squabbles, but infrequently. The disaster had instilled a togetherness that meant people were really concerned by their neighbour’s wellbeing. Army personnel who had family started to move into vacant properties and they were welcomed with open arms as the army and community’s edges blurred.
The dead were still an ever present, but in the three months that the army patrolled the village’s surroundings there were none to enter the village. The army were quietly and slowly whittling down the dead. They were an ever-present trickle, but it was manageable.
Jack still held hope for his parent’s return and occasionally made trips to his childhood home to check for signs of life, but with each passing day, his reservoir of hope emptied a little more.
Jack and Lucy were quite different people from the ones they had been, as was everybody else. They had an edge to their personality now, their primal instincts sharpened with the uprising of the dead. Life was simple and their needs basic, they no longer planned too far in the future, they cherished the here and now and made sure there were no lapses in concentration. It was tiring, always being on guard, but it became second nature, even Chloe left the house with a hammer attached to her belt. Survival was everything; any luxuries on top of that were an added bonus.
After three month’s patrolling and no sign of Richie, it was assumed that he had met a grizzly death at the hands of the dead, the decision was made that the threat no longer warranted army resource which would allow them to switch focus. The plan was set to start building a bigger community. It would take time and the two groups would still live separately as the work took place, but it was the beginning of a new chapter that took three months shaping.
It was a time of change, change for the good.
Chapter 45 - Awake
The instant he sat up; Jack knew something was wrong. The noise woke Lucy a fraction of a second later, as Jack was clambering out of bed, rushing to the window, Lucy was a breath away and joined him to look out onto the
village’s main street.
The sound was unmistakeable; Jack, and especially Lucy, had heard the dead, not just the stragglers, the crowds, the moving beast flowing like an ocean of one; the living like the moon to the dead ocean tide. They knew what was happening before their eyes confirmed it. The village was under siege from the dead, a huge hungry horde.
-
Richie had seen the army draw into the village while he was watching three months earlier. He wasn’t a fool and knew if he hung around he wouldn’t be able to deal with trained killers. Richie wasn’t a smart man in the old world, but he was a long way above average now that the dead had reset the base.
During his long walk across the country he had learnt a thing or two about survival. He had killed living and dead and could not distinguish a feeling of remorse for either. He is a man on his own and a master of his own destiny, no friends, just enemies. Nothing and nobody stopped him from his wants, he takes and has no issue killing for it.
He also learnt about the dead and how to use them. He identified with the dead more than the living and watched them with curious eyes. He found that he could herd groups together and lure them towards him, he was the carrot on a stick. The first time he experimented playing carrot, he didn’t know if the herd would continue their pursuit to eternity. Through trial and error, Richie learnt that if he amassed a crowd, he could get ahead of them and hide, they would continue their pursuit, but after a few hours would either simply forget what they were chasing or would give up. Whatever the reason, Richie saw that the dead would remain in inertia where they stopped, in unison like a hive mind, until someone or something caught their attention and got them moving again.
Having seen the army, Richie decided to move away from the area for a period of time and plan. He wanted war, a fight against the village, to eradicate them, his hatred for every retched being kept him focused. He was going to raise an army of the dead and unleash hell. After observing the creatures with morbid fascination, Richie had decided to use them as his allies, and he revelled with intense focus as he set to work on building his army.
He worked for close to four months building his plan. Richie chose to use the A1 motorway as a funnel. There were thousands of dead littering the carriageways and the road ran a stone’s throw away from the village. The first thing he did was find a new hideout, somewhere he could hole up between his dead rustling. He liberated a small and secure bungalow from an old couple who had stocked up on tinned goods in a bid to survive. They were no match for his killer instincts and weren’t given a choice about whether to flee or die, Richie chose the path with least complication and killed them both before they had time to realise their peril.
He then began the riskiest part of his plan. He had to go close to the village where the A1 ran past the farm’s fields and create a roadblock to divert his soon-to-be army into the heart of the community. It was a risk for two reasons; it was close to where the army were patrolling, and the road was filled with the dead. Ideally, Richie didn’t want to have to kill any of his resources, but needs must. He planned to use vehicles to block the road to cause the herd to change course. He reasoned that because of the dead on the road, the village and army patrols would stay clear to keep a low profile. He was correct and was aided by the fact that there was a multiple vehicle crash blocking the road already. He had very little to do, so he cut the fence posts lining the field boundary, not cutting them down completely; he used a saw and cut most of the way through each post so they’d topple with a little force. He didn’t want to draw attention before he was ready.
Over the weeks that followed Richie herded and repeated his days. He started some distance from his planned attack. Some days he had to work further away from his growing army and take down the dead in large numbers as he worked tirelessly to clear obstacles in the road. He couldn’t have the herd disband before it reached its destination. He took many risks and came close to being bitten on several occasions. With each escape, Richie’s feeling of invincibility grew as he darted around the countryside pulling the strings of his growing force of darkness. There were numerous times he left the crowd to rest the night and return the following day to find they had been drawn away by something in his absence, these setbacks didn’t hamper Richie’s determination and focus, it slowed him down, but if anything, his spite grew with each disappointment.
Time passed as Richie prepared for attack, surviving purely for his act of evil. The throng of foul-smelling rotting corpses was close to the village, undetected, motionless, and waiting for their next meal. Animals had learned to stay clear of the area as their own instincts sharpened to the new world. Even birds wouldn’t fly over the dead; it was as if nature was all too aware of the stench of death. Richie slept that day having devoured a tinned delicacy of an all-day breakfast, stewed steaks and minced beef and onions. He awoke after midnight and set off, taking the rifle, he had acquired from Harold, and a hunting knife that yearned for blood.
The time was nigh as Richie drew the crowd onwards and walked only meters in front of their reach. Picking up the pace, he walked up the embankment of the motorway and kicked the fence posts to topple the fence leading onto the farm’s field. He lit a fire he had placed inside the field and walked on, lighting smaller fires as he headed towards the village.
The watchmen saw the fires and their unwanted visitor arriving, the first shots fired towards him, but he ducked for cover and crawled in a ditch, watching as the dead swamped the field, alert to the sound of gunfire and a bigger prize to the prey they’d been following.
Chapter 46 - The Ocean
The horde moved across the field and drew the attention of two watchmen, Scott and Dave, spread out at opposite ends of the field. They had fired two shots as Richie had lit the first few fires, but quickly realised their mistake upon seeing the huge crowd amble up the motorway verge and through the open fence. They saw it was futile so made their escape. The two men ran through the farmyard and into the village, it was deserted as people slept. Scott ran straight to James’ house to raise the alarm. James had the radio and they needed help from their new friends at the barracks, the army. Dave ran home to warn his wife and kids. As part of their training, something that the whole village took part in, they ran through the back gardens and secluded spots so they could run undetected in the event of an incident like their current predicament.
Scott found James in his kitchen, James was a light sleeper and had heard the gun shots and was about to come running, he was in the process of putting on shoes when Scott’s harassed face pressed up against the window. James motioned for Scott to come in.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re in trouble. There’s a huge crowd of dead and it is heading this way. It’s minutes away. Someone led them here, they came in from the motorway and started lighting fires. I took a shot and they went down, but I don’t think I hit him, it was difficult to see.”
“Come on, we need to go and warn Lucy and Jack. Hang on a second, I’ll be back.” James disappeared upstairs and told Beth to lock the door and stay upstairs. He grabbed the handheld walkie-talkie that Daniel, the Colonel, had given him and joined Scott downstairs as they fled through the backdoor.
-
The dead had seen Scott and Dave run and followed in pursuit; they were swarming the village like the ocean overcoming flood defences. They filled every route into the village, taking roads, paths and pushing through bushes, gardens, and the farmyard. The streets were filled with all manner of decomposing creatures, some faring better than others, open wounds, missing limbs, and other body parts added to the stench that accompanied the mass of bodies. It was the noise of the stirred-up crowd that woke the village, the moans intensified as the sheer numbers of dead created an alien echo across the Vale of York, attracting more from the surrounding area.
People started to wake and rushed to their windows to see what was happening. Fear caused panic as many ran to their windows without caution. The dead were quick to se
nse the movement of the living and the commotion amongst them intensified as they pushed their way to the houses where people were trapped. It isn’t known if the dead communicated, was there a change of pitch in their moans, or did they share a telepathic connection? Those that spotted the living and changed course attracted others to follow them, the reasoning behind this change of course was of little importance to anyone pinned in their homes, as the fact remained that the dead surrounded them en masse, cutting off any escape.
The strength of the community was quickly becoming its weakness. The sound of broken glass could be heard in contrast to the low moan, the dead were getting into houses, the numbers that pushed and jostled found weaknesses in the fortifications of houses and began to stir the residents into action.
Claudia Schmitz lived in a large house overlooking the main road as the scenes unfolded. She was 56 and lived alone, her husband had worked overseas, but she’d not heard from him since the world turned on its head. She was one of the first to her rush her window and was seen by the leading pack. It took the dead a short amount of time to topple over the low garden wall and break the windows in the front of the house. The first of the dead leaned into the house unable to climb in, but as others joined from behind, those at the front pushed their legs against those bringing up the rear enabling them to slowly tumble in through the windows.
Claudia was sitting at the top of the stairs clasping a hammer in both hands when she heard the glass break. She walked down the stairs and peeked into the front room to see the dead leaning in, the smell and the noise made her want to turn and run, but she stayed put and watched. She saw in horror as the monsters reached in through the broken windows, loud bangs at her front door startled her as she watched her peril escalate. Fear gripped her when the dead started to fall in through the window. Backing away, she watched as the foul beasts toppled onto the white plush carpet, leaving bloody and greasy stains as they clumsily rose to their feet. Claudia had seen enough, she backed into the hall and ran into the kitchen at the back of the house. Glancing back at her home, she left through the backdoor in a panic clutching her hammer.
