Zombie Castle Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Harris, Chris

  When the plates had been washed in the small kitchen the church had, the group gathered together, shifting pews around so they could all face each other.

  Bob told them that they would all be welcome to stay and join in with them in the fight for survival, but everyone knew the necessity of at least trying to reach their house to gather all the gear and extra reenactment equipment they had stored there.

  They did promise, though, that they would return if it was possible, once they had got themselves sorted.

  All of what everyone had learnt so far about the zombies was discussed, from the best way to kill them to how they hunted. The tactics they had used so far had proved successful and they used their recent knowledge to try and improve on them.

  Marc’s pike had proved very effective at longer range killing, and ideas were discussed and agreed on how to utilise them in their formation to the greatest effect. The best idea they came up with following Marc, Simon and Jamie’s experience at the bus was that, if they found themselves facing a mass of them, they should form line with everyone wielding a pike. They could then be used to build a wall of corpses to hold them back, and then they could change to their close-quarter weapons to pick them off as they crawled over it.

  The group in the church had gathered enough supplies to last them for a number of weeks, but at some point they knew they would need to gather more. Bob and Jim collected together anything they had found to use as a weapon. The small pile of knives and garden tools was sifted through, and all the villagers selected which one they preferred. The Vicar chose a hammer, which he tucked into his belt, but he had also taken one of the heavy gold-plated candle stick holders and after a few practice swings, deemed it perfect for performing God’s work in ridding the earth of the evil that had descended on it. The surviving villagers were of all ages and abilities, but all seemed determined to make the best of the situation and work together to survive.

  For some reason, the fact that a zombie apocalypse had occurred seemed not unexpected. Even the older ones, who were not as up to date on all the recent films and TV shows, seemed to immediately accept the situation.

  Even though they were all heartbroken, thinking about their family and friends who probably had succumbed, the main thing to concentrate on was surviving and not becoming hysterical.

  Bob and Jim, using their knowledge of Bristol from their escape earlier in the day, helped the friends plan the best route into the city. They had come across many roads that crashes or road blocks had rendered impassable. Their information was not complete, but by at least avoiding known problems, they could hope it would go as smoothly as possible.

  The bus would take the lead with four of them in, with the other three following in the van. The hope was that the bus should be able to plough through the zombies if need be, and have the power and weight to push obstructions out of the way if they came across any.

  Eventually the exhaustion of the day began to tell on everyone, so after a final toast to lost friends and families, and a prayer from the vicar, candles were blown out and lanterns turned off, and soon the sound of snoring echoed around the hard, stone walls of the church.

  Saying the farewells in the morning was more emotional than might have been expected from people who had only met the day before and hardly knew each other. Jim and Bob both had tears in their eyes as they shook hands and waved goodbye, reminding them to return as soon as possible.

  Slowly, the bus, with the van following close behind, pulled away from the church and the seven continued their journey towards the unknown horrors of Bristol.

  They were back to seven.

  Chapter thirteen

  Passing where they had met Jim and Bob, Jamie, the driver, said.

  “It seems like a year ago we were last here, but it was just yesterday.”

  They continued along the main road, weaving around the occasional abandoned vehicle, and Bristol drew closer. It was marked by a smear of dense, black smoke drifting across the horizon. Nearing the city, they started to come across zombies, either on their own or in small groups. All were heading towards the smoke drifting across the distant skyline. If he could, Jamie aimed the bus straight at them and drove over them, the sound of bones splintering and bodies breaking clearly audible in the bus. Some of the broken, bent bodies left in their wake still twitched when the brain was not destroyed.

  If a larger group was encountered, Jamie aimed the bus at the largest concentration, using it to kill as many as he could and then the others stepped from the bus and attacked the rest.

  This kept working until they kept encountering even larger hordes, the closer they got to the city.

  “They’re all heading to the city,” puzzled Jamie, “The smoke from the fires can be seen for miles in all directions. Maybe that’s what’s drawing them in.”

  “Bloody worrying, isn’t it?” replied Ian, staring at them out of the window, “If they’re all heading where we are, it could get interesting soon.”

  Rather than trying to kill as many as they could, Jamie started to steer a course around the larger groups, when the head of one they ran over had put a large crack in the window as it smashed against the glass.

  It became clear that the main road was channelling the zombies in a single direction, concentrating them and making it harder to steer past them. Using their local knowledge, they decided to veer off it and start using smaller side roads. Encountering fewer zombies, they edged into the city outskirts.

  Jamie stopped the bus when they crested a hill that gave a view of most of the city. Geoff pointed out a tower block that was not far from their house.

  “The fires don’t seem to be in our neighbourhood yet, that’s one good thing, at least.” Marc pulled the van next to the bus. Jamie opened the door so they could talk.

  “This is it then, mates. Almost there. This road joins the route we planned last night soon, so we’ll be back on track. If we meet zombies, the roads are going to be too narrow to dodge them. I’ll plough straight through them and hope the front windscreen doesn’t fall out, but just in case it all goes tits up, everyone get ready for a run.” He then got a panicked look on his face.

  “Who’s got a set of bloody house keys?” he patted his sides as if checking his pockets, which were not there as he was wearing chainmail. Simon pulled at a lanyard that he had around his neck and jangled a bunch of keys.

  “Got ’em. I had a thought a while back, and got them out of my rucksack.”

  “Good one, pal,” said Jamie, “We’d have been the dickheads who fought through thousands of zombies and then died on our own front door step when we found we were locked out.”

  With a shout of ‘Let’s do this!’ he closed the door and the little convoy drove on.

  The first few streets they went down were eerie and deserted. Not a soul could be seen. House front doors wide open and bags and other possessions scattered along the footpaths and across the road, indicating a quick and rapid departure by the owners. Some of the cars that remained had panels dented and bumpers ripped off, telling a story of the panicked actions of the driver of the car parked in front or behind it.

  “Where is everyone?” asked Dave, “This is bloody spooky. It’s straight out of a post-apocalyptic movie.”

  Geoff gave a short laugh, “Not here is all that matters at the moment. If zombie folklore is right, they prefer to form large packs, so my best guess is that somewhere round here is a whole lot of them, probably surrounding some unlucky sods they’ve got cornered. Just keep going, we’re almost there.” Rounding a final corner and entering their road, Jamie angrily shouted,

  “Dammit! There are a few hanging around our front door. Hang on to something, I have an idea.”

  He turned the wheel and the bus mounted the pavement and drove straight through the garden hedge of a house two down from theirs. He bounced over lawns and through another hedge and a low wooden fence. Steering to get as close to their house as possible, he smashed through the zombies. They f
lew through the air and crumpled against the neighbour’s brick wall. Satisfied they were no longer a threat, he reversed the bus and brought it to a halt directly outside their front door.

  He was grinning smugly to himself as he opened the door of the bus and said,

  “Jamie’s door-to-door delivery service. Please leave your tips for the driver as you exit, and mind the gap as you step off, folks.” Ian turned to him.

  “Do you call that parking? There’s at least a six-inch gap you’re expecting me to leap across. The problem is how are we going to get in now?” Jamie’s grin fell from his face.

  “Shit. Simon has the keys.”

  “Yes, dipstick! And he’s in the other van. So, what are you going to do now, driver?” He thought for a moment and swivelled his head to check the surroundings. Marc hadn’t followed him across the front lawns and had pulled the van up at the end of the driveway that led from the front door.

  “As nobody appreciates my genius, give me a sec and I’ll shuffle this thing a bit and then Marc can use the van to block the gap I leave. Will that make you happy, Beaver?”

  He opened his window and told Marc the new plan. After a few minutes of shunting backwards and forwards, the bus and the van were parked as close to the door as possible, both vehicles now forming a solid shield surrounding the door to their house.

  “Let’s get in and get sorted,” Jamie said, opening the door, “The sooner we can get loaded up and back out to open countryside, the better.”

  While they’d been driving along, the friends had drawn up a list of what they wanted to take and the priority in which it should be loaded. Now they had the bus there was no limit to what they could take with them, so the list was long and varied from crossbow bolts and fishing equipment to toilet paper and toothpaste.

  Simon stepped from the van and fumbled through the bunch of keys on his lanyard, trying to find the right one. Just as he was about to insert it in the lock, the door opened.

  A man in full armour, holding a sword in front of him, stood blocking the doorway.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Simon demanded, taking a step back. The man lifted the visor on his helmet.

  “Simon, it’s Alex… Alexander Kirkley.”

  “Alex! Bloody hell, mate, what are you doing here?”

  “Not too long a story, but do you want to come inside quickly? The noise you’ve just made will surely attract more of them.” Everyone trooped through to the kitchen and stood facing Alex.

  The ones who knew Alex shook his hand and Simon introduced him to Marc and Jon.

  “This is Alex, he lives near Oxford somewhere. We got to know him at various reenactment events. He’s a cracking bloke and fitted right in with us idiots. We keep trying to get him to join our group, but he likes the one he’s in, so he doesn’t want to let them down. Anyway. He’s been here a few times and we’ve had some classic nights out around Bristol.”

  There were a few chuckles as hazy memories of those mad alcohol fuelled nights were remembered.

  “Come on then, pal, tell us why you’re here. And how the hell did you get in?”

  “I was on my way to that event near here yesterday morning. I was coming up from a mate’s place on the south coast, so I was making my own way there and meeting my group at the venue. It was weirdly quiet on the drive, but I didn’t know what was going on until I came across a crash on the main road. It was horrific, half the people were being eaten by the others.

  “I didn’t have a clue what was going on and almost shit myself when a few I hadn’t noticed began clawing at my car windows. So I panicked, reversed the hell out of there, and took to the side roads. I drove like a lunatic for a few miles until I’d calmed down enough to stop. It was then I turned on the radio and checked out my phone and worked out that the impossible had somehow happened.” He paused for a moment to gather himself.

  “Not knowing what to do, I just carried on driving. It wasn’t until I saw a sign for Bristol that I thought about you guys. Looking at a map, I knew your house wasn’t far away, so I worked out a route through the side roads and hoped you were going to be in. Having seen what they could do if they caught you, I put my armour on as a precaution and set out.

  “I almost made it all the way, but I came across a blocked road not far from here. Before I could get out of there, a load more came up behind the car, trapping me in. All I could do was get out and run away. I had to fight through a few of them, learning quickly that aiming at their heads was the only way to put them down.”

  “Bloody hell. And you were on your own too?” Dave said.

  “Yeah. Well, so I started running, hacking at any that got in my way until I got here and found you weren’t. They were still following me, and I knew I couldn’t keep getting away from them much longer. I didn’t know what the hell to do. I was going to break a window, but then I thought they would just climb in after me. But then it came to me. You hide a spare key!

  “Remember that night out we had? It wasn’t until Dave buggered off with that girl that we realised he had the only key. We had to use that spare one you keep under the rock by the flower pot, so praying it was still there, I found it and let myself in. The problem was that a lot had followed me, so I found myself trapped.

  “I had no option but to stay put, so I secured the house as best as I could and I’ve just been keeping as quiet as possible. I just hid out in the back room, trying to work out what to do next. Most of the zombies had wandered off by this morning, so my plan to be quiet had worked.

  I was still doing that and was having a kip on the sofa, hoping they’d be gone when I woke. I was planning to make my escape if they were. But then while I was noddying, your bus crashing through the front gardens woke me up. How, and why on earth are you driving a bus anyway?”

  The friends then told their story, with everyone adding bits others had missed.

  Geoff then explained what their plan was and asked Alex if he wanted to, at long last, join their group.

  He did have family who he was clearly very worried about, as did everyone else, but he could see the advantages of working together as a group. He agreed to join them after Ian had explained that once they’d found a secure location, their plan was to try and rescue as many family and friends as possible.

  They were now eight.

  Chapter fourteen

  “Once we’ve had this cuppa, can everyone start getting the things as I read them off the list? I want some of it stacked in the front room, so we can put it on top at the end, but the rest can go straight on the bus as you bring it down. If you can put stuff such as sleeping bags, etcetera, together in vague order on the bus, it will make them easier to find later.

  “Jon, Alex and Marc, as you don’t know where anything is, can you take stuff off the others as they bring it down, please, and keep putting it on the bus? That should speed things up. I think it’ll make sense to remove our armour, though. It’ll kill us to keep trudging up and down the stairs if we’re wearing it.”

  No one disagreed with Geoff’s plan, so as soon as the mugs of tea were drained, and everyone had helped each other out of their armour, they all set to the task with a sense of purpose.

  Within an hour, most of the items had been gathered and were either on the bus or stacked in the front room, waiting to be loaded. Everything stopped when Jon, who had been carrying another load out to the bus, ran back shouting.

  “Zombies, fucking loads of them at the end of the road.”

  They all ran out of the front door and into the bus where the high rear window gave a clear view towards where Jon said they were. One hundred yards away at the junction of their road and the next, a solid mass of the undead had gathered.

  Dave was about to speak when Ian held his fingers to his lips, indicating to them all to be quiet. He then pointed to the house and walked slowly and quietly back inside, shutting the door when the last one was in. Without any commands, they all began donning their armour again.

  Spare items
had been found and put aside for both Marc and Jon, and they struggled to put on the unfamiliar items until they were helped by the others.

  “What now?” Jon asked, with a tremor in his voice.

  “We sit here and have another cup of tea and be as quiet as we can. They may not notice us, and hopefully, they’ll move on,” said Ian, with a grin and a shrug.

  “Dave, your room overlooks the front. Go up there and keep an eye on them. I’ll bring your tea up when the water’s boiled.” He nodded and walked out of the kitchen.

  Thirty nervous minutes passed. Dave kept a running commentary going, passed via Simon who had sat on the stairs to pass messages along to avoid shouting. The zombies hadn’t moved far, some had wandered off, but a crowd, hundreds strong, still gathered at the end of the road.

  Alex put forward the theory that they might have heard them earlier while loading the bus, or followed the noise they’d made driving through the city. He wondered if they’d lost the trail as soon as they’d gone quiet, and now were just waiting until another noise attracted them. A sound idea that no one could disagree with.

  Time moved on and still the herd didn’t move. To pass the time, Ian got a map out and they discussed where the best place to head would be. After endless options were rejected due to distance, difficulty of securing premises, or just too many undead, the obvious choice was to head back to the church. They knew it was secure, it contained friendly people and it wasn’t far away. It would, at the very least, provide an ideal base to give them the time to decide their next move.

  Everyone’s ears picked up the distant sound of a dog barking. Dave’s whispered commentary confirmed it. He reported as soon as the dog started barking that the zombies turned towards the noise and started moving away.

  “As soon as they’re clear, we’ll carry on. Saved by a dog, who would have thought?”