Dave had finished looking at the map by now, and via the radio, gave Shawn directions that would lead us towards Princetown, the small village at the heart of Dartmoor, and home to the famous prison.
“We should be there in an hour or so. It’ll then be about time for us to start looking for a place to spend the night. I have a few in mind from the months I’ve spent crawling all over the sodding place on exercises. There’s a farmhouse I know that’s in the middle of absolutely bugger all, so it should be perfect. The farmer’s a lovely chap, he used to let us sneak in and have a cup of tea and a warm by the fire.
Simon joined him. “Oh him! He is great. Ex-forces, Scottish and he always knew the value of a good brew and a warm up when the brass wasn’t watching. The fact that all farmers have instructions not to offer us any assistance meant nothing to him. About ten years ago me and my boys spent a lovely night drinking whisky and eating good food when the weather turned shit on one crappy three-day training ex,” he chuckled.
“I remember getting a pat on the back from the CO because we were the only unit to complete the mission. All the others bailed due to hypothermia and exposure. It turns out he knew what we’d done anyway. A few weeks after that, I drove up to drop him a couple of bottles of whisky off as a thank you, but the CO had beaten me to it. It turns out when Burgum was a lowly Lieutenant, he’d done the same thing himself a few times.
He showed me the note that arrived with the case of whisky, thanking him for NOT looking after his men when they most needed it.” He slapped the side of the trailer.
“That settles it, we’re heading to Willie Beedie’s farm. If anyone’s survived this shit, he will have.”
We slowly moved onwards. Smoke could be seen rising from Princetown long before we reached it. We all exchanged silent looks and tensed, getting ready for the inevitable. I picked up the radio.
“Shawn, stop here and let me reconnoitre ahead. Dave says the road narrows through the village and if it’s gridlocked, you’ll have a hard time reversing or turning around. I’ll nip ahead and check it out.”
“Ok, buddy, be careful.”
The mess of cars started over a mile from the village. A few zombies were staggering about and more were still trapped in their vehicles. Other cars had piled into each other or into walls and ditches in the now familiar scene of complete chaos and carnage we had seen before, and which we were certainly going to keep seeing every day of our journey.
A few glimmers of hope were vehicle tracks that we could see going away from the road across fields and off into the moor. Four-by-four owners with cars that had probably only been over speed bumps before had suddenly realised the value of high ground-clearance and the off-road capabilities of their pride and joy, and they had used it to enable them to survive.
I weaved carefully through the cars, with Dave, Chet or Steve destroying the brains of any zombie within reach, until eventually the way was completely blocked with a huge crush of cars, most containing the now familiar jerking movements of occupants still trapped by seat belts.
Dave climbed out of the car, stood on the bonnet and surveyed the way ahead through binoculars. A few minutes later he climbed back in and sat down.
“Better turn around. The centre of the village is swarming with them, most of the buildings seem to have burnt out and a few have collapsed completely, blocking any way through. It looks freaking awful up there. Jesus, if that’s one little village, what the hell do towns and cities look like?”
He reached for the map.
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll work out the best route to Willie’s farm.”
While he studied the map, I turned the Volvo around, adding a few more dents to its anti-zombie protection, and drove back to where the others were waiting. Pulling up beside the tractor, Dave gave them a quick résumé of what lay ahead. After getting a bearing on his compass and rechecking the map, he pointed in a direction.
“Willie’s farm is about five miles that way.”
We looked across the vast expanse of the barren moor. Small copses of trees lay in sheltered folds of the land and high granite tors dominated the landscape.
Shawn and Louise had exited the cab and were standing on the high wheel arches of the tractor.
“Tom, you follow me, because this tractor should be able to go anywhere within reason. If you stay close to me, I’ll be able to pull you through if you get stuck.”
I studied more closely the direction we planned to head towards. Footpaths crossed the moors, going in all directions, thousands of boots over the decades compacting the ground, marking clear routes over the moor.
“If we can stick to those paths as much as possible, I should be fine. The Volvo’s got a good four-wheel drive system, it’s just the ground clearance that might let it down.”
Simon chipped in, “Give me a good old Defender any day. They’ll go anywhere you point ’em. You may as well hook it up to the tractor now, Shawn, his Chelsea Tractor will be bogged down within one hundred yards.”
Smirking, I responded, “Bloody purist, give it a chance, you might be surprised at what it can do.” Becky joined in.
“He wanted to get a Defender as the family runabout. Tom made me take one for a test drive, and it scared the life out of me. The thing had a mind of its own and just wanted to keep killing me at every bend and junction.”
“Oh, Becky, I kept telling you, you needed to drive it, not it you. You can’t let your guard down or be mean to one, or it’ll have you. But yes, dear, you are right, the Volvo is much more comfortable to drive, and it’s got aircon and heated seats, I know. Bet you wish we had one now, though, don’t you?”
‘‘‘Good for a zombie apocalypse’ was not on the wish list at the time, though, was it, Tom? And if you’ve all finished slagging off my lovely safe family vehicle, can we get a move on? We’ve got zombies pouring out of that village and heading towards us.”
Looking towards Princetown, she was right. You could faintly make out the dark moving shape of a horde. The noise of my vehicle must have attracted them.
“We need to get out of sight of those, or they’ll follow us across the moor.” I climbed back into my seat and started the engine.
“Hang on a mo,” shouted Chet, “I have an idea that might distract them.”
He scrambled out of the roof and ran up to the trailer and asked for something. A minute later a 5-litre plastic petrol can was passed down to him. He walked up to the nearest car, lying abandoned with its door open, its occupants choosing to flee from the terror around them.
Whether they’d made it or not was anyone’s guess.
Chet opened the can and soaked the inside of the vehicle with petrol. Shawn and I, realising what he was up to, had already moved our vehicle away from the car. He then laid a trail of petrol from the car and, looking around to check we were clear, bent down with a lighter and lit the fuel.
The yellow flame shot along the line and with a whoosh, the car burst into a huge fireball. Carrying the can, he ran to my car and scrambled back in through the roof. Looking at him, he had a huge grin on his face.
“I’ve always wanted to do that!”
The black smoke billowing from the burning vehicle was drifting towards Princetown. His hairbrained plan was going to work. We now had a smoke screen to hide our escape. A tyre exploded loudly. In my rear-view mirror, I could see Chet hopping up and down with excitement, admiring his handiwork.
We set out across the moor, making our own trail across the wilderness. Shawn slowed to a virtual crawl. The trailer had no suspension and the rough ground was throwing the occupants around. I could only see Noah and Victoria clinging on to the sides for support as it rolled and bounced over the rough terrain. I expected the rest had decided to sit on the cushions on the deck and hold on.
I had to tell Chet to sit down in his seat when a particularly bad hole I’d gone into almost threw him out of the car. Steve grabbing at his belt had saved him from going overboard. The route that had
looked smooth from the road was passable, but it didn’t make for a comfortable ride. I stuck close to Shawn and trusted him to find the best route for us.
The Volvo did great, it kept going, fording a few small streams and bouncing over rocks and dips I never thought it would have managed.
Dave had the map and kept Shawn updated on the rough direction he wanted him to head in. We were in the middle of nowhere, and the pall of smoke from the burning car had long ago disappeared over the horizon. Dartmoor ponies, the small, sturdy indigenous horses that are unique to this area and are allowed to live semi-wild on the moor, watched us with quizzing eyes as we slowly passed them.
“Willie’s farm is in the next hollow. If we keep on in this direction, we’ll cross the drive leading to it.”
My stomach was beginning to complain about the lack of food. We had last eaten at breakfast and that seemed a long time ago now. I was briefly jealous of everyone in the trailer, because I was sure Maud was still providing endless snacks and titbits for anyone who wanted them, but looking at how uncomfortable it must be, I wasn’t that jealous.
Dave’s navigation was spot on, because after another uncomfortable and tiring twenty minutes of driving, we came to an unpaved road that led further into the depths of the moor.
“Shawn, turn left. You’ll come to a gate in about half a mile and his farm is about another half a mile beyond that.”
As soon as we were on the track, the going got a lot smoother and Shawn picked up the pace. Soon, faces began to appear looking over the side of the trailer. I chuckled to myself as they all looked decidedly green. Maybe they hadn’t been eating any food after all.
Shawn slowed and stopped at a long wall that stretched into the distance, where the track was wide enough for me to pull alongside him. Dave stood up on the seat.
“I’ll get the gate, ladies, can’t have you lot doing all the work, can we?” He climbed out through the roof and jumped down. I nodded in approval as everyone assumed a lookout position. The team was coming together nicely.
As soon as Dave touched the gate to open it, a voice called from seemingly nowhere.
“Touch that gate and I will blow your fucking head off. Now kindly turn around and fuck off.”
We all tensed and raised our weapons.
Dave, calm as ever, nonchalantly leaned against the gate and crossed his legs.
“Afternoon, Willie. Is that any way to greet friends? You remember me, I’m Sergeant Dave Eddy, Royal Marines and in the trailer is that big ugly bastard, Sergeant Simon Wood. We’ve all sat in your kitchen sharing tea, whisky and war stories. We just need the usual, if it’s ok. Somewhere to shelter for the night and we’ll be on our way tomorrow. If you have whisky, that will be a bonus, but I’m sure I can rustle up a few bottles from our supplies if you’re running low.”
The bush ten feet in front of him rustled, and a man appeared wearing full camouflage. He was holding a pump action shotgun.
“Are you accusing me of being stingy with ma whisky?” he said in a virtually unintelligible Scottish accent.
“Willie, you are Scottish, so of course you’re as tight as a duck’s arsehole. All I was saying was that we have our own whisky to share with you, if you feel we’re imposing on your legendary hospitality too much.”
With that, he laughed, reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled cigar, lit it with a Zippo and said,
“Well you’d better come in then. Pull into the yard. I just need to re-set up the security I dismantled when I saw you coming.” Dave smiled.
“You knew it was me.”
“Of course, well not you exactly, ma eyesight ain’t that good, but I saw the uniforms in the trailer and sticking out the roof of that bastardised car of yours, so I guessed you knew where I was, which means I’ve met you before. And if you’re coming here, you must be in real shit, especially as you’re not in service vehicles.
I’ve been watching you approach for the past half an hour. I just couldn’t let you open ma gate without asking, now, could I?”
“Need a hand?”
“No, but I could do with someone to talk to while I’m doing it. All I’ve had to go on so far, about what the fuck’s happening is the news before they stopped broadcasting, and conversations with other ham radio users around the globe. But they’re getting fewer and fewer every day.”
He turned to the rest of us, who were all listening intently to the conversation.
“If ya all just head up to ma house, park in the yard and get yourselves comfortable in the kitchen, me and young Davey here won’t be long.”
He opened the gate and we drove through and followed the track to the farmhouse we could just see the roof of in the distance.
We were now, even if temporarily, twenty-two.
Chapter five
The farm was very picturesque, hidden in a valley and surrounded by a little woodland. The pretty farmhouse had a yard that was surrounded by barns and storage sheds. It was all very neat and tidy.
With Steve steadying the ladder, Chet and I helped everyone climb down from the trailer. After hugging Becky and the kids, we all stood around, unsure of what to do next. Maud spoke up.
“Well, he did say to make ourselves comfortable in the house. I don’t know about you, but that’s where I’m going.”
“Yes, lets,” said Becky.
“Tom, the kids could do with a run about to stretch their legs and let off some steam. If you could keep an eye on them?”
Victoria and Lucy said they would help me keep an eye on them as the rest trooped into the house. I had a quick check around to make sure it was safe and zombie-free, and then gave the children, after what we had been through in the last few days, a probably unnecessary quick reminder about just staying in the yard and never leaving our sight.
Stan, Daisy, Eddie, Emma and Josh were soon bombing around the yard playing tig, seemingly without a care in the world. It was great to watch, a break from the horrors of the outside world.
I chatted with Victoria and Lucy. They were both putting a very brave face on how they must truly be feeling. Within the last forty-eight hours they had lost their husbands, faced certain death along with their children, trapped on a roof of a building and then even when rescued by us, had endured the terror of almost getting overrun by the undead when we were trying to leave the base.
I’d heard that Army wives were by nature made of stern stuff, as their husbands spend so much time deployed facing constant dangers every day, or training, and so the women have to get on with it by themselves. Well, they certainly were living up to the reputation.
I had seen them wielding the zombie spears, fighting alongside everyone in the trailer. They hadn’t taken a step back and let others do the fighting, as some women might, but had joined in. As far as I was concerned, they were already valuable members of our group.
They were taking obvious joy in seeing their children playing, forgetting for the moment the world outside the small yard.
Dave and Willie walked into the yard a short while later. Dave formally introduced us, and I shook the former soldier’s hand and thank him profusely for letting us onto his property.
Dave had told me the little he knew about Willie while we were driving over the moors.
He had settled on the moors after leaving the Army, lived alone and kept himself to himself. Like most former soldiers, he wasn’t open about his time in service, but from the few conversations between them and usually when deep into a bottle of whisky, he had opened up a little. He had fought in quite a few conflicts and had been to a lot of places around the world during his time in the Army. Dave said that his former CO had great respect for the man, which was enough for him.
Willie looked to be in his sixties, but with his face weathered by so many years on the moors, it was difficult to be exact. He wasn’t as muscular or bull-like as Dave or Simon, but the years in the Army and singlehandedly managing a moorland farm had given him a lean, athletic figure. You could tell, des
pite his age, that he was far fitter or stronger than I could ever hope to be.
“You’re very welcome. Any friend of a Marine is a friend of mine. And from the story Dave’s being telling me, you’ve done a great job of keeping your family alive, and the fact you have without a thought allowed others to join you, tells me you’re someone I’m going to like. Tell me straight, did your lad really kill one with a cricket bat?” I nodded.
“Sweet Jesus, the world’s gone mad. Now, shall we go inside, meet the rest of your group and have a brew?” I called out to the kids to come with us, and we headed inside. On the way to the door I spoke to Dave.
“How many sentries do we need to sort out?”
“I think we should be ok for the time being. Willie showed me the security he has set up, and we should get plenty of warning of anything approaching.”
“What has he got?”
“Trip wires attached to flares at all the weak points, and some cameras set up on an old deer-stalking hide, which apparently have a great field of vision in daylight. He’s going to show me when we get inside. His whole place is surrounded by walls or fences, which he assures me are in good condition. This guy knows what he’s doing. If he’s happy, then I’m happy, but once we’re settled in, we can decide on and plan a guard rota. Because no matter how good whatever he has is, there’s always the law of Sod, and you can’t beat the good old human eyeball mark one as the best warning system there is.”
The ground floor of the farmhouse was a large open-plan area with a kitchen area at one end with a huge farmhouse table, and a sitting area centred around an impressive inglenook fireplace at the other. It was a good job it was so large, because twenty-one of us and a baby filled the place to bursting point.
Maud and Jim were busy preparing some snacks for everyone from supplies Jim had fetched from the trailer.
Willie went straight to Louise, who was holding Sarah and asked if he could hold her.
Holding her gently, he pulled faces and tickled her, and soon had her giggling and waving her arms about in excitement. Seeing the activity in the kitchen, he turned to Maud.
Zombie Castle Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 21
