‘Don’t open the door and Gillian’s in charge.’
‘She ain’t now.’
The metal bar played with the door, trying to lever beneath the buckled metal and prize the door open. Pale festering faces leered at the glass window. Fists battered against the metal. Bricks thudded as the feral mob attempted to breach our defense.
The gear stick moved into first and I eased off the clutch allowing the bus to push forward. The crowbar found a gap and many hands pulled as I crawled forward into the mass of metal.
‘Faster, jeez you got to go faster.’
A gap and a hand appeared at the door as I pressed harder on the accelerator. An ear busting, grinding screech played up front as we pushed against the mass. More hands pulled at the door, the gap widening.
‘Shoot the fucker’s,’ I said.
Another child, holding a gun, joined us at the front of the bus. Both boys pointed at the gap waiting for it to widen. I found reverse and stamped on the accelerator. Children tumbled and gears crunched as I searched for a gear taking us forward. Shouts accompanied our progress as sticks beat at the sides, at the door and wheels as we headed back to the wall at a lumbering pace. Rocks splintered the windows, but the wire mesh held us safe. We hit the wall, the grind of the metal piercing the night. Bodies clinging to the bus door screamed as they too met the wall. We slowed but the bus broke the first obstacles and pushed cars and dumpsters forward.
A man appeared on the bonnet of the bus wielding a large chisel and hammer. He reached beneath the mesh, and whacked hard. The first thump landed on his hand as the vehicle scraped over a random piece of car. He cursed before lining up the next blow and the window cracked under his strike.
‘What’s his point,’ I yelled. ‘Fuck’s sake, he can’t get past the wire guard.’
‘Fire.’
I braked and watched the man slide off the bonnet and become wedged between the fender and the plough. ‘What fire?’
‘Without the glass they can throw bottles of fire at us. They’ll explode on the wire and flaming petrol will spill into the bus. We’ll be dead big time.’
Hands pulled at the door again.
‘Shoot him Jacko,’ the boy with the top hat ordered.
He shot twice at the gap and I reversed the bus at speed and slammed it into first gear. The bus jerked forward, the engine roaring as we ploughed back into the metal. From my right side flaming bottles attacked the windows. They exploded and spread fire across our flank. The glass held and the bus made slow but steady progress though the barricade. The man scrambled back onto the bonnet but he’d lost his hammer and could only threaten us with his chisel.
We pulled clear of the road block and the children cheered as the bus found solid road. The vodka passed from mouth to mouth with a cheer each time a child coughed. Children kept offering me a slap to the back, but I wanted my bottle back.
I never saw the hole, but in my defense it had a camouflaged covering. All manner of shit carpeted the road, but when we hit the flimsy layer the bus plunged deep. We ended up nose first in deep dark.
Gillian had regained consciousness and sat up on the floor. ‘Well done Street Boy,’ she said. ‘What was Rule One?’
Chapter Two
Who parked the bus in a bear trap
‘Don’t stop,’ she muttered. ‘Was that so hard.’
I couldn’t see. My chest lay flattened against the steering wheel and my head sat against the dash. A hand slapped at my face and a leg kicked as a child groaned and thrashed at gravity to get back on his feet. Bright lights shone on the bus from above.
‘Don’t open the door.’
Like I understood where the door might be. The child next to me fell back against the windscreen and cried out with the impact. He rubbed at his head and pushed his gray hood from his head. Flickering lights illuminated a small pale face and a hand rubbing at the back of his head. I pushed off the steering wheel looking for my pack and bottle of vodka. It was gone. I sat on the steering wheel with my legs kicking at the seat, and pulled my old faithful from my inside pocket. The battered flask contained the last of the Scotch I’d bought at Ahmed’s Emporium. The fluid sat in my mouth, the smooth smoky flavor stopping me from swallowing. Ivan might have suggested I savor the bouquet, so I’d appreciate the peaty undertones to the barley and all that crap. But I needed to just drink. I swallowed and coughed, before relishing the gentle caress as the malt eased down my throat.
Gillian’s face loomed above me. She gripped the bar separating the driving cabin from the seating area.
‘And I’m in charge,’ she said.
She grabbed the flask and held it high as she suckled. She wiped her lips and screwed the lid back in place.
‘Yes Miss. What’s the plan.’
‘Reach into the side of the seat and there should be a semi-automatic rifle, two clips holding it in place.’
She took a weapon from the inside of her overalls, made the gun ready and replaced it. I passed the rifle and looked for my backpack. It sat on the floor by the boy with the top hat. He was crushed against the foot well of the passenger seat, watching the door with his gun ready to shoot. With a curse he reached for my bag, lifting it free and throwing it within my reach. I grabbed the gun, the bottle of vodka and settled back against the bus wheel. I pocketed the spare magazine and made the weapon ready, before holstering the gun in my side pocket of my trousers.
‘We’re going to fight our way out,’ Gillian said. ‘Jacob. Jacko.’
She held her weapon high. Jacko, the tiny lad in the grey hood, saluted.
‘Bring it on,’ he said.
Gillian tapped me on the head with the butt of her weapon. ‘Shoot to kill, babes, coz these animals will be ready to die to make sure they have some meat to roast tonight.’
More lights flickered as bodies dropped from above. Jacob scrambled off his perch, sliding to the front of the bus. He stopped against the front seat looking back up at the back of the bus.
‘We’re trapped,’ he said.
‘Total silence will give us an advantage. You ready to kill, babes?’ I held up my gun. ‘Let them bastards break in. I’s not shitting here, but let them come for us. Once they’s show their sweet scabby mugs we shoot, babes. They’re not armed except with spears and rocks and shit. We’ve got serious advantage. I’s not shitting yuh.’
It didn’t feel like we ruled, but I got her point. The glass from the front window smashed as the wire cage pulled free. A guttural sound punctuated their exertions. I dropped to the floor, nestling in the well with the foot brake in my back. At the rear of the bus the emergency door came under attack. I heard a child cry out and the dog bark. I’d forgotten about the gang and wondered how they’d managed to remain at the top, with the arse end of the bus sticking high in the night.
The dashboard creaked above my head. Shadows crawled along the side of the bus. I held the gun out front waiting for the first body to come into view. A missile sailed through the broken exit door at the back of the bus. The flaming rag lit up the bus and clattered and smashed against the metal seat legs. Fire spread across the passage the flaming petrol running the length of the bus. Several more flaming bottles followed and the bus began to burn.
The dog slid from the rear, yelping as it passed through the burning floor. Its claws scratched and scrabbled to gain traction, but it ended up crashing into the seat by my feet. It cowered, licking at the singed fur, its body shivering. Sounds above gave a big cheer as more bottles smashed against the seating. A jagged spear reached for the dog, ready to pierce its body. I pushed off the pedals, and sighted the chest and shot. Without a sound the hooded creature fell backward. Jacob took out a body to my left and Gillian’s weapon Boomed, the flash bright in the dark. Flaming bottles bounced harmlessly on the bonnet of the bus and followed the path of the dead bodies as they slid into the dirt.
Jacob crawled over the seats and fired at the emergency door. Jacko had the front door covered and Gillian unloaded her rifle
through the front window. I climbed up onto the steering wheel, the gunpowder strong and smoke causing me to cough.
‘We going,’ I said.
Gillian pulled a torch from her pocket and spot lit the heads on the bonnet and the side door. Two shots fired, more smoke, more cries and bodies falling. The beam swung upward and a white scarred face froze in the beam. Gillian’s rifle blasted the head clean off its shoulders, and the body fell into the bus, twitching at my side. Two violent thrusts of blood spurted up the passageway before an arm flopped in my lap.
‘All clear,’ Gillian said.
I pushed away from the body and climbed over the steering wheel with Jacob joining me on the bonnet. A blockade of bodies littered the gap, rammed against the earthen wall. We held onto the window frame to stop us sliding off the hood, and worked our way to the side of the vehicle. Gillian joined me while Jacob took the opposite side of the bus. In tandem we climbed the side of the hole using the bus as support, until we reached the back of the bus. With our backs against the rear, our heads resting on the wide window we looked over the crumbling edge, our guns scoping the darkness. Bodies surrounded the hole. They kept a twenty foot radius, and held flaming sticks in the air.
‘What’s the plan,’ I said. ‘I mean we can shoot the fuckers but there seems to be a lot of them.’
The dog scrambled up to the lip of the hole as Jacob joined us. ‘It’s a mess in the bus. Only Lucy’s moving in there and she’s too scared to come out.’
‘Keep them busy,’ I said. ‘I’ll carry her out.’
Lucy sat at the front of the bus buried between the pedals. She held a blanket to her chest, a floppy eared rabbit beneath her arm, and sucked on her index finger. ‘Hi ya Lucy,’ I said. ‘Me names Ben but most people call me Street Boy. A stupid name, eh?’
‘You’re not a boy,’ she whispered.
‘Well no, I guess I’m not, not like Jacob is, but it’s just a name. Is my back pack down there Lucy?’
She pulled it free of the accelerator and passed it to me. ‘Thank you. Can you pass me the bottle by your feet?’ I smiled and took a drink.
‘I’m sort of thirsty,’ she said.
I passed her the bottle, stopping as her small white hand reached forward. I offered her Gillian’s bottle from the side pocket in the door.
‘You want to sit up here?’ She pulled the bottle away from her mouth and shook her head. ‘It’s okay up here, and you can see out of the hole, eh?’ Honest. And Jacko and Jacob are outside.’
She climbed out of the pedal well and I helped her up onto the dash. Together we drank while watching the dying flames running the length of the bus floor. I nudged her and smiled. Bright eyes stared through a long knotted blonde fringe.
‘You ready to go?’ She nodded and allowed me to place my arm about her. ‘We have to climb along the side of the bus, so jump on my back and I’ll piggy back you to the top.’ She pulled her hood over her head and clambered onto my back. ‘You ready.’ A small yes suggested we had take-off and I transported the girl to the precipice.
‘How’s it looking out there?’
‘They aren’t moving,’ Jacob said. He reached across and offered Lucy’s hand a squeeze. ‘They’re just standing there.’
I stood on the rear window and looked over the top of the road at the living dead. A rag tag community faced the hole. Fires burnt in a scattered ring. A low murmur hummed as they waited for our emergence.
‘Let’s go,’ Gillian said. She looked to her left and pointed. ‘The road heads that way and I reckon we’re close to the foot bridge crossing the river. We get out and we walk. Shoot if they get to close but let’s aim high.’
Gillian climbed out of the hole and met a volley of missiles. Rocks and concrete, plaster and glass rained upon our site. She shuffled back into the hole, taking refuge against the earthen wall opposite the bus.
‘We’re buggered, babes,’ she said. ‘That’s serious shit. I’s not shitting you babes, but how’s you not see this hole? It’s bigger than a bloody football pitch.’
‘It was dark, eh?’ I said. ‘And it don’t matter does it, because we’re here now, and we need to get out.’
I poked my head above the edge, gripping a jagged piece of road. ‘Shit. Incoming hell.’
With our feet on the bus we all pushed against the earthen wall and watched the flashing bottles sail high and drop with a loud splintering crash. Petrol spread across the top of the bus, and bright fire exploded down to the front cabin. Petrol vapors cloyed at our throats and black smoke made breathing difficult.
‘We got to go,’ Jacob said. He held the gun in both hands and waved it at the lip of the hole. ‘We’s can’t be stayin’ here. I’ve heard if they’s touch you, just a touch you get scabs and die and walk forever like a zombie. That’s what I heard.’ He nodded his head to emphasize his point.
Lucy nudged up against my shoulder, a light whimper and a sniffle buried in my clothing. She wanted me to be her hero, but responsibility never sat too well on my shoulders. I wasn’t sure how I was to get out from the hole with a child in arms. I lifted her tight to my chest, and peered over the edge. The gun felt heavy as I sighted on the gang of Zombies standing before the fire burning fifty yards back from the hole. I motioned for Gillian to join me, pulled Lucy closer as Jacob and Jacko sighted their weapons at the crowd.
‘We’ve got to shoot and run at them,’ I said. ‘Otherwise we’re going to burn here. Jacob’s right, eh, I don’t want to become a zombie either.’
‘Shoot and run, you saying babes,’ Gillian said. She still sucked on her cigar, but gripped the rifle with passion. ‘You’s talking my song, Street Boy.’
‘Now,’ Jacko said.
Fuck me it was just a thought spoken out loud.
‘Go,’ I shouted.
I hitched Lucy in my left arm and clambered out of the hole firing my gun. I didn’t care if I hit a target but bodies dropped in my path. I sprinted for a derelict building to my left, keeping the fire to my right, and the child protected by my body against the many air born missiles.
Glass smashed at my feet, the flames igniting and following my path. Behind me I heard gun shots, feet running and an excited Yee Ha. I jumped through a barricade and dropped the girl to the ground, covering her with my body. Nobody followed, but my breathing rasped big time and sweat stung my eyes. I kept low, slowing my breaths, listening to the sounds of the night. Fire reflected in the broken window above my head, but the natives hadn’t followed me into the building.
A cry, a hoot and a fox moan accompanied the low dirge from the fire. I picked up the girl and dusted her down. She kept her thumb in her mouth as she rubbed at the long floppy ear of the rabbit. She flinched each time I picked a piece of rock from her hair. Not so long ago a girl, similar in age to Lucy, had died in the Ostere Christmas bombings. I remembered picking up her floppy eared rabbit and tucking it beneath her arm after she’d dropped it in the mud. Two days later I’d found the rabbit lying forgotten in the rubble of the bombings. I patted the girls back and wondered if I could explain the dangers of carrying a floppy eared rabbit.
‘We need to get out of here,’ I said.
Big brown eyes stared at me. Her hand lifted and pointed out the window at a body lying on the ground. ‘That’s my brother Jacko.’
I’d seen the shoe, but not the body. Jacob appeared running low and grabbed the arm of the boy and dragged him back into the shadows. I shepherded Lucy from the building, keeping to the shadow, and found Jacob leaning over Jacko’s body.
‘Eh, you all right.’
‘They’ve got a gun.’
He grabbed Lucy and backed to the wall. ‘Bridge’s that way.’ I pointed to my right, my finger following the broken road and stopping at the wall of black. ‘What you want to do about Jacko?’
‘Jacko’s dead.’
I looked at Lucy and smiled. ‘Jesus mate, a little subtlety eh?’
‘Fuck that. She’s seen dead.’
Lucy pushed
against me as a shot exploded from the dark. I ducked down and Jacob rat crawled across the broken tarmac. With Lucy clutched to my breast I set off, but Lucy didn’t move. She sat heavy against me. Another shot spat off the tarmac. I turned her face to me and reeled back as dull whites and large irises stared back at me.
‘Shit,’ I said and ducked back within the building. I placed her on the rubble next to her brother covered them both with a filthy scrap of tarpaulin. I ensured the rabbit sat snug in her embrace and brushed her hair from her eyes.
‘Sorry little one,’ I said.
I scrambled across the rubble, my eyes fixed on an upturned car running low for cover. Another shot spat at the ground to my left. To my right the small figure of Gillian could be seen running and making good ground toward the bridge. I fired offering her cover.
I ducked behind the car. ‘Where’s the gun fire coming from?’
Jacob pointed at a lump of metal, white in the dark night sitting a hundred yards behind the hole housing the bus. ‘There’s an idiot in that motor with a weapon.’
‘It’s a milk float isn’t it? Who gets milk delivered around here?’
‘You can get milk delivered?’ Jacob said. ‘That’s stupid. Why just milk?’
Bodies stepped out of the dark. Some dragged limbs. In the fire light sores glared on their faces. Pale skin reflected the hungry flames. They held spears, scythes and hoes. A child clad in a white smock stepped up from the battered roof of the float and brandished an old shot gun. He had a metal rod which he shoved down the muzzle, damping the shot in place.
‘Run.’
And I grabbed at Jacob’s arm. We ran skipping over the pot holes, skirting slabs of concrete and crunching over smashed glass. At the bridge I ducked down at its footing, a bank of muddied earth protecting me from the sniper. Jacob fell in beside me and we turned to face the mob. Gillian called from the other side of the bridge.
‘Where’s little Lucy?’
‘Same place as her brother.’
‘Shit. That’s me gang gone.’ He looked at us. ‘But you two survive. That don’t seem fair.’
Heroes Don't Travel Page 30
