“Yes, go!”
Jason nervously releases the pressure he is applying to the door a little at a time, his legs trembling from their excursion as the muscles relax. Hoping for now that Tyrone has indeed got the door secure, Jason rises from his bracing position.
His legs sapped of strength, Jason staggers away from the door, his rifle pointing forward, gripped in both hands. He can feel the strength quickly returning to his legs as he moves forward down the hallway, and his senses begin to take in his surroundings. There is one room off the hallway, which must be the lounge, and another at the end, which he can see is the kitchen.
“Is there anybody here?” Jason shouts out as he moves down the hallway, ignoring the lounge and moving straight towards the kitchen. His training is telling him to check the lounge, to check his blind spots, but the front door could give way at any moment, even with Tyrone’s bulk against it. Jason ignores his training; they need to get out of this house as soon as possible and he heads directly for the kitchen.
At the end of the hallway are the stairs to the floor above, and Jason eases his rifle up and around the flight of stairs, but all seems still up there. “Is anyone here!” he shouts again but there is no reply from anywhere in the house.
“Get a move on,” Tyrone barks at Jason in a strained voice. Jason glances back at his mate and the urgent look on Tyrone’s face has Jason quickly pointing his rifle at the entrance to the kitchen.
Through the entrance and to his right, Jason finds a gleaming modern kitchen area and a cosy looking, fashionable dining area to his left. Opposite him is a glass wall of bi-fold doors reaching almost entirely across the back of the house. Beyond the glass is the greenery of the house’s ample garden.
Rushing over to the glass wall, Jason searches for the means to exit into the garden but the handle he finds at the end of the glass doors is locked tight and there is no key in sight. With no option, he raises his rifle ready to shoot out his second door lock in only a matter of minutes. Stepping back and preparing to aim, something catches Jason’s eye—another door, almost hidden on his right at the back of the kitchen. It must be a utility room, Jason decides, and he pulls the muzzle of his rifle around and moves quickly towards it.
Jason is right; behind the inconspicuous door is a narrow utility room with appliances lined up under a long work surface littered with discarded laundry. There is no door to escape through, but there is a large window at the end of the room which even Tyrone will fit through, if it will open.
Nerves tingle inside Jason’s belly as his hand closes around the window’s handle. Please don’t let it be locked, he begs when his hand twists. The handle levers up and the window pushes outwards to Jason’s great relief. Air flows through the opening and Jason tastes the now familiar smoke contaminating it.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jason tells Tyrone after grabbing a chair from the dining area. Tyrone’s relief is obvious when Jason begins to jam the chair against the door and the floor to allow Tyrone to retrieve his rifle.
“That won’t hold those fuckers for long,” Tyrone remarks, his shoulder still heavily pressed against the front door.
“We only need a few seconds. On the right in the kitchen is a door leading to a utility room. There is a window out to the garden at the end which I’ve opened. We can block the door behind us with the dryer or the fridge.”
An almighty boom suddenly vibrates throughout the entire ground floor of the house, stunning both men, who look fearfully at each other.
“What the fuck was that?” Jason asks almost under his breath in shock.
“The front window. They’re smashing into the front window! You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Jason responds.
“Lead the way then, go!” Tyrone orders, pushing Jason unceremoniously away.
Jason doesn’t protest and bolts for the kitchen, his hands sweating against the grip of his rifle, his stomach burning with fear. Tyrone bides his time, holding his weight against the front door until Jason is crossing the threshold into the kitchen. Not trusting the dining chair to secure the door alone, he doesn’t want any obstacles in his way when he makes his run for it.
Just as Tyrone pushes himself off the front door and makes his break for it, another sound crashes through the house, the sound of smashing glass. Tyrone sees the creature hitting the floor of the lounge out of the corner of his eyes as he tears past the lounge’s doorway. He doesn’t turn to look at the floundering creature or to see the other creatures scrambling and bursting through the new opening, and he motors straight into the kitchen.
“This way!” Tyrone hears Jason shout from his right and he swerves for the narrow door that Jason disappears into. More bangs and crashes sound out, this time the noises coming from inside the house. Tyrone knows exactly where they are coming from and the accompanying snarls and screeches accosting his ears confirm the creatures are in the hallway, close behind him.
“Shut the fucking door!” Jason shouts as Tyrone crashes into the wall opposite the door of the narrow utility room. Tyrone spins around and does exactly that and applies his weight to it while Jason heaves at one of the white appliances from under the work surface.
The tumble dryer clatters across the floor under Jason’s force as he manoeuvres it over to the door. Tyrone has to stretch and make a bridge with his body to allow Jason to get the dryer under him and up against the door. He doesn’t dare take his pressure off the door by removing his hands from it, not until it is blocked.
With the tumble dryer in place, Jason doesn’t rest until he has manhandled the fridge into position behind the dryer forcing Tyrone to finally move out of the way. The two appliances fill the gap between the door and the wall opposite, both men feeling momentary relief that the door cannot now be opened, and they look at each other, panting from their efforts.
“It never ends,” Tyrone says breathlessly as the first bangs hit the utility room door.
“Don’t I fucking know it mate,” Jason responds.
“Was there any food in that fridge?” Tyrone asks and they both look at each other again, wide-eyed.
Chapter 2
“What you reckon?” Jason asks Tyrone, who is peering out of the window at the end of the utility room as Jason puts his last piece of ham into his mouth. The ham is four days out of date, dried out and probably on the turn, but his stomach gratefully receives the meagre offering, nevertheless. The fridge was bare apart from the clingfilmed ham, some squishy tomatoes, and an equally squishy half a cucumber.
“We need to get to the end of the garden and over the fence in double time,” Tyrone responds. “The glass doors in the kitchen won’t hold those things, they’ll be through those just like the lounge window as soon as they see us.”
“And then?” Jason presses.
“Who knows what’s waiting over that fence in the other garden, but we can’t hang around. We’ll have to keep climbing over the fences, play it by ear and be ready for anything.”
Tyrone turns away from the window to join Jason looking at the map of London they have spread over the work surface and on top of the discarded laundry.
“What else can we do?” Tyrone asks looking down at the map.
“The best we can hope for is that they arrest us when we reach the perimeter, if we reach it,” Jason says.
“All we can do is try, there really is no other option.”
“No, no there isn’t,” Jason says. His qualms about retreating to the perimeter when Tyrone mentioned it earlier have been overridden by recent events. If they run into another squad, replenish their ammo and join up with them to carry on the mission, then they will. But if they don’t, then their only option is to take their chances and retreat to the perimeter on the North Circular Road.
“Shall we then?” Tyrone asks.
“Give it five, I’m feeling a bit lethargic after that hearty meal,” Jason jokes.
“Come on mate, let’s go while we have the light. It won’t last much longer and it looks lik
e the weather is deteriorating.” Tyrone smiles as he puts his helmet back over his short-cut afro hair.
“Yep, I’m ready,” Jason says before turning on the tap over the basin next to him to take one last swig of water.
“Mate, you’ve just pissed in there!” Tyrone moans.
“I swilled it out,” Jason points out.
“Very considerate of you. I’ll leave them a note to reassure the owners,” Tyrone says and they both laugh.
Jason climbs out of the window first, making sure he stays pinned up close to the adjacent wall when his boots touch the ground. He makes sure that he isn’t seen through the windows by the creatures. The gap is a tighter fit for Tyrone, but he squeezes out and pushes the window closed behind him before pressing his back against it.
The two men glance at each other, nod and then push themselves off the house. Jason takes the lead as the two men storm across the slabbed patio, launching themselves off the low wall at the end to land on the grass beyond. They don’t break their stride on landing and neither of them looks back to see what is happening at the windows behind as they sprint over the grass.
The first boom against the glass doors sounds out as they reach a few feet from the fence. Launching themselves again, they jump off the grass as they near the fence, their hands gripping onto the top of the wooden panels as they land against it. The top of the fence is rough against their hands as they swiftly haul themselves over in a well-drilled motion.
As soon as they land on the grass on the opposite side of the fence, their rifles are up, gripped in their hands. Both pointing across their new surroundings and looking for targets. There is no sign of life… or the undead; the house at the top of the garden looks deserted. The only things present are a child’s swing and a plastic slide. As they scan their new surroundings and without a word being said, both men pull in their rifles and break left ready to traverse the next fence to reach the adjoining garden.
Halfway over the next fence, an explosion of shattering glass hits their ears as the zombies smash through the bi-fold doors and out of the house. Suddenly, their jaunt across the improvised garden assault course takes on a sinister new reality.
Jason scans the next garden on his way over the fence. It is empty, so he dispenses with raising his rifle on landing and sprints straight across the grass. Tyrone follows suit, the sound of cracking wood behind them and high-pitched cries forcing them on.
Three fences later, Tyrone almost lands on top of a heavy breathing Jason, bent over with his hands on his knees. He takes up a firing position next to Jason, down on one knee to cover his out-of-breath comrade. Things have gone quiet behind them, their pursuers having either given up the chase or lost the scent. Hopefully, both, Tyrone thinks as his lungs work overtime to replenish his body’s oxygen.
His rifle’s muzzle moves across the garden as Tyrone takes in their new surroundings. The house at the top of the garden is dark inside, and initially, Tyrone thinks it too is deserted. Then suddenly, he has a pair of eyes in the crosshairs of his rifle. Low down, staring out of the back patio window, a child stands staring at him. The boy of five or six years stands motionless, his eyes wide as if he has seen a ghost.
“There’s a boy inside the house,” Tyrone informs Jason who now stands next to him with his hands on his hips, his breathing calmer.
“Yes, I see him,” Jason replies.
The little boy's mouth moves as if he is trying to say something to the two soldiers who have suddenly appeared at the end of his garden. It is not the soldiers he is talking to, however. The boy’s words bring movement behind him and a man moves into view behind the glass, followed by a worried-looking woman.
The man pulls a boy who must be his son away from the window and puts him behind his legs, only for the boy’s head to pop sideways around the side of the legs. Neither of the parents seem to know what to do, they just stand behind the glass staring at Jason and Tyrone.
It is Jason who takes the initiative; he puts his hand to his mouth and moves his mouth in an eating motion.
“Always thinking with your stomach,” Tyrone teases.
“I’m bloody starving mate.”
“Me too, to be fair,” Tyrone agrees.
Behind the glass, the man looks at the woman for a moment and they talk. Below them, the boy's mouth moves too, hopefully encouraging his parents to feed the two soldiers. Turning back to Jason and Tyrone, the man nods and that is all the invitation the two men need.
“I’m going to ask you to stay out there, if that’s okay?” the man says through a gap he has opened in the patio doors.
“Yes, we understand,” Jason replies. “This is Tyrone and I’m Jason. Sorry for dropping in like this, things got a bit out of hand.”
“Indeed,” the man says. “I’m David, and my wife will make you some sandwiches. Is ham okay?”
“Our favourite,” Jason replies with a wry smile.
“You talk funny,” a little voice says from behind his father’s legs.
“Bob, don’t be rude,” David tells his son.
“That’s okay,” Jason says. “I’m from Scotland, that’s why I talk like this,” Jason tells the boy, looking down at him.
“What’s Scotland?” Bob asks.
“Bob, be quiet!” his father says. “Go and see if your mother needs any help.”
“Dad, I want to talk to the army men.”
“Now, Bob!”
Bob sulks off into the house, giving David a chance to asks Jason and Tyrone what is going on in his city. They tell the worried-looking father and husband what they know, which doesn’t ease his worries any. The only advice they can give the man when he asks what he should do, is that they should stay locked inside their house. Try and ride it out and wait to hear what the government says.
David’s wife passes out a plate stacked with sandwiches for the two men, who, now seated on garden chairs, devour the pile quickly. They wash the food down with glasses of water they have been given. Bob watches them eating intently through the glass, eyeing their rifles with wonder.
The sandwiches eaten, Jason and Tyrone discuss their next move. Debating whether to carry on over the fences and through the gardens or whether to go through David’s house and carry on through the streets.
“I’ll ask if we can go in to recce the street out of their front windows,” Jason tells Tyrone. “If it looks clear, we’ll go out the front door. There’s still loads of fences to go and we’ll be knackered by the time we reach the end of the road.”
“I think you’ll have to insist,” Tyrone replies looking a bit too comfortable in his garden chair.
Jason gets up off his chair, picks up the empty plate and glasses and approaches the patio doors. Inside, David sees Jason coming and gets up off his sofa, where he has been keeping an eye on his unexpected visitors.
“Thanks, they were just what the doctor ordered. Please thank your wife,” Jason says as the patio door opens, and he hands over the crockery.
“Our pleasure, will you be off now?” David asks.
“Yes, but I need to ask another favour. We need to come inside and check out the street, to see if we can use it instead of climbing over fences.”
David looks apprehensive by the request, glancing back to his wife. “Okay,” he finally says, “but can you leave your weapons outside?”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, but we won’t be inside for long. You have my word,” Jason replies as Tyrone approaches Jason’s back as if to enforce the issue.
Without saying another word, David pushes the door open and stands aside. Jason steps quickly across the threshold before he changes his mind and Tyrone follows him in. An excited Bob is whisked up off the floor by his mother, who immediately sits back down on the sofa, holding her wriggling son tightly so that he cannot escape, no matter how much he protests.
Jason nods a greeting to David’s wife and smiles at Bob, who must be in total awe of the two burly soldiers in full combat gear and with guns
towering over him in his house.
David brings up the rear as Jason and Tyrone head straight across the lounge which runs the length of the house. He hovers behind the two intruders in his home as they take up positions at the front window overlooking the street.
“See any movement?” Jason asks.
“Nothing, it’s deadly quiet out there,” Tyrone answers, immediately regretting his use of the word deadly, what with the young boy in the room.
“Agreed, let’s move then,” Jason says, turning to their host. “Can you let us out of the front door please?”
David leads them out of a door on the left. Neither of the soldiers says a word to David’s wife or Bob as they go. Their heads are elsewhere, psyching themselves up, ready to head back out into harm’s way.
There is a slight pause at the front door as Jason and Tyrone do a weapons check. David looks on nervously as the weapons make unfamiliar metallic sounds that echo around the enclosed space, his hand hovering over the front door latch.
“Ready?” Jason asks, workman like.
Tyrone nods and David automatically turns the latch and opens his front door.
“Good luck,” David says as they leave, and they return the words to him before David shuts the door behind them.
The street is eerily quiet, despite the constant sound of gunfire that hangs over the city. A smoke haze clogs the air, making the day appear later than it is. The closing in weather, only adds to that illusion. Dark clouds are beginning to form overhead, and a breeze is building to distribute the smoke to every corner of their surroundings.
The street they find themselves on is not as tightly packed with houses like the one they escaped from, one street over. The houses here have modest front gardens and driveways to offer them cover as they move. On the flip side, however, cover for them also means cover for the enemy.
“Let’s get on with it,” Tyrone says quietly as he stalks forward behind his rifle, past a car parked on David’s short driveway and towards the road.
Jason falls in behind him, covering Tyrone’s back. He is aware of David watching them move out from behind his front window and for a moment, he wonders what is in store for David and his family. Jason doesn’t dwell on the family’s fate for more than a passing moment though, his concentration needed elsewhere.
Capital Falling | Book 4 | Sever Page 2
