The Undead Day Twenty

by RR Haywood

  ‘She had grenades in her wee hands, Father…’

  ‘Lilly? What’s wrong?’ Pea asks, walking after the girl.

  Lilly’s heart thunders. Her breathing coming hard and fast. Her eyes set to stare in the distance. She could roll the grenades under that van and walk away without blinking such is the feeling inside. Her face twitches. Her knuckles turn white.

  ‘Lilly?’ Pea says again, stopping just behind her.

  The rage subsides mere seconds after it came. A feeling of calm descends. A strange sensation that makes her exhale slowly. What it was she has no clue. What caused it is unknown only that it was Howie. She doesn’t know where they are but only that something just happened that was a hundred times more powerful than the feeling last night.

  As she stares so her eyes gain focus to see the heat haze shimmering over the road at the far end. The sea on the left, glittering and inviting. On the right the remains of the houses already flattened and the plant machines working away to bulldoze everything else. The tarmac stretches off to disappear in the distance beyond the high hedges. The heat is intense. The humidity is staggering. She goes to turn and head back to the van but stops and stares at the road. Someone there? Looks like someone running down the road towards them. That in itself causes no surprise. People are turning up all the time now and most of them tend to speed up once the fort is in sight, almost as though they have rush before it closes or gets full. Another one comes into view. Then another. Then more. Hundreds. Thick lines that suddenly fill the view at the far end of the road and even from this distance she can see the uniform motion of people running together.

  She swaps the grenade from her right hand to her left and pulls the pistol from the holster on her hip while pushing the safety off all in one smooth movement. She aims out to sea and plucks the trigger to send the booming retort of the gun across the bay. An intake of air that she expends with one word as she turns to every man and woman now looking at her.

  ‘INCOMING…’

  Nine

  ‘Oh my. Oh my oh my that was really rather unexpected.’

  Blowers sticks his head up from the bundle of bodies. Blinking hard and trying to shove Blinky’s arse from his face.

  ‘Gracious…yes indeed,’ Reginald says excitedly.

  ‘Blinky…Blinky…’ Blowers says.

  ‘What?’ she says, her voice muffled.

  ‘Arse…get it out my face.’

  ‘Get Cookey’s knob out of my eye then.’

  ‘That’s my knob.’

  ‘Get Nick’s knob out of my eye then.’

  ‘Indeed. This is most interesting,’ Reginald says, rocking forwards and back on his feet. He looks at Heather and grins. He looks at Paco and grins wider. ‘Hive mind eh? Well, and that was a strong one wasn’t it. Most strong. And from two I might add.’

  ‘Blowers?’ Cookey shouts from somewhere in the pile.

  ‘What?’ Blowers grunts, still trying to shove Blinky’s arse from his face.

  ‘Did you see it?’

  ‘See what?’

  ‘See what he asks,’ Cookey says, popping his head free from under one of Clarence’s legs. ‘Charlie, Marcy and Paula were sex wrestling…’

  ‘We were doing no such thing,’ Paula says, easing back from Marcy.

  ‘Did anyone else see it?’ Cookey asks, looking round. ‘Oh you lame bastards…seriously it was like the best thing ever.’

  ‘You think everything is the best thing ever,’ Nick’s muffled voice shouts.

  ‘No but this was, like it actually was,’ Cookey says. ‘Er…can I get out now please, Clarence?’

  ‘Why you asking me?’

  ‘I’m under your leg.’

  ‘Are you? What you doing down there?’

  ‘Haha!’ Reginald says. Still grinning at Heather and Paco. ‘Most interesting. Indeed. Yes that was very strong wasn’t it?’

  ‘Right, everyone sod off,’ Howie shouts. ‘Someone’s on my leg.’

  ‘That’s me,’ Marcy says.

  ‘My other leg.’

  ‘Still me.’

  ‘What the hell was that anyway?’ Paula asks. ‘Nick, you got any cigarettes, honey?’

  ‘Er…bit stuck at the moment, Paula.’

  ‘No idea,’ Howie grunts, trying to work out if it really is Marcy on his legs. ‘You’re not moving…’

  ‘I can’t,’ she says, ‘Blinky’s on my legs.’

  ‘Blinky’s arse is in my face,’ Blowers says.

  ‘I’m under Clarence’s leg,’ Cookey says. ‘But I saw Charlie, Marcy and Paula sex wrestling so…so I don’t really mind.’

  ‘We were not sex wrestling,’ Paula says, shoving a hand into the bodies. ‘Nick? Where are you?’

  ‘Here.’

  ‘Where? Where are the cigarettes?’

  ‘Pocket.’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘We could get everyone off first,’ Howie says.

  ‘This pocket?’

  ‘That’s…whoa! That’s not my pocket.’

  ‘Oh shit…I am so sorry…that wasn’t your…’

  ‘No it’s fine…’

  ‘I’m telling Lilly Paula was sex wrestling then groping Nick’s willy.’

  ‘Cookey! Which pocket then?’

  ‘Over a bit.’

  ‘Seriously, can’t we all just get up first?’ Howie says.

  ‘That’s my pocket,’ Clarence says.

  ‘Fuck’s sake,’ Paula says, pulling her arm free. ‘Right, everyone get up. Blinky, come on…’ she grabs a leg to pull which elicits groans and yelps.

  ‘Hive mind eh?’ Reginald says, still holding that grin at Heather and Paco.

  ‘Reggie, stop it,’ Paula says, holding Blinky’s leg. ‘You’ll scare them off…just give us a minute,’ she adds with a polite smile to Heather. ‘Blinky, pull your other bloody leg out.’

  ‘Yes, Miss Paula.’

  ‘I say,’ Reginald says, peering at the bundle of bodies. ‘You really should get up now.’

  ‘We’re bloody trying,’ Howie says.

  ‘Well do hurry up. The fort is most likely being attacked…’

  That does it. A massed disintegrating of limbs pulling apart and bodies popping free that stand with wild hair and wild eyes.

  ‘You said they’ll attack here,’ Howie says, sending Marcy flying a few feet to the side.

  ‘Well they are not so I would surmise they are attacking the fort instead.’

  ‘Load up…’ Howie says. ‘We’ll discuss this later.’

  ‘Too bloody right we will,’ Paula says, running past Heather then stopping to smile awkwardly. ‘Er…so we think the fort is being attacked…’

  ‘That man just said that,’ Heather says, pointing at Reginald.

  ‘Reggie,’ Paula says. ‘So we…we need to go…er…jump in Roy’s van.’

  ‘What?’ Heather asks.

  ‘The blue van. Jump in…we’ll figure everything out in a minute.’

  ‘You expecting a big attack?’ Howie shouts, running past Roy’s van.

  ‘Not excessively so,’ Reginald says. ‘Perhaps a few hundred…’

  ‘Righto…Maddox? You coming?’

  ‘Or you can stay here,’ Cookey mutters.

  ‘Seriously, jump in Roy’s van. It’s only Reggie in the back,’ Paula says, dropping her voice a notch. ‘And he doesn’t stare…much…he doesn’t stare much.’

  ‘Er…’ Heather says.

  ‘Come on, we’ve got to go…’ Paula says, grabbing Heather’s hand then reaching for Paco but stopping at the last second. ‘He won’t kill me will he?’

  ‘No!’ Heather says, glaring at Paula for a second before glancing at Paco. ‘No!’

  ‘Paula!’

  ‘I’ll jump in with Roy…come on, the fort’s being attacked.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ Heather asks, allowing herself to be dragged towards the blue van.

  ‘Reggie said and he’s never wrong with that sort of thing.’

  ‘I
am never wrong with any sort of thing…oh, are they coming in here?’

  ‘They are, shift your arse and let Heather sit down.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Heather says.

  ‘Reggie, move your backside.’

  ‘I said I’m fine,’ Heather says.

  ‘Fine,’ Paula says, heading for the front as Roy clambers into the driver’s seat. ‘Right…bloody hell that was something else that was…’

  ‘Wasn’t it,’ Roy says, starting the engine.

  ‘Roy, you got Charlie with you?’

  ‘Howie, it’s Paula…she not with you?’

  ‘I’m in the trailer with Jess, Mr Howie.’

  ‘…er…why?’

  ‘For rapid exit. I just need someone to open the door when we arrive.’

  ‘Are you on the horse now?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Howie.’

  ‘How the fuck…you’re sitting on Jess in the back of the horsebox trailer thing?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Howie. Just need the door opening when we get there.’

  ‘Now that is dedication,’ Paula says into the radio.

  ‘Bloody is,’ Clarence replies, his deep voice booming through the speaker in the back of Roy’s van.

  ‘Wish I was Jess…’

  ‘You got Heather and Paco with you?’ Howie asks.

  ‘Yep, with Reggie…they can hear you by the way.’

  ‘Can they? Oh…er…so Heather and er…Paco…sorry about all that. We’ll explain later. We’re moving out…’

  Heather stares at the speaker then to the front to see Paula shaking her hair out before pulling it back into a ponytail. She looks round to Reginald pulling a notepad from his bag then to Paco watching her intently. Every instinct is still to run and go away but it’s like a huge wave pulling her along so fast she can’t even think to try and swim for freedom. Go with it. That’s the voice in her head. Not that she has much choice seeing as the van is now steaming behind the army truck with a horse trailer bouncing behind it. She edges closer to Paco, her hand finding his.

  ‘You said a few hundred,’ she says to Reginald, swallowing before speaking to get moisture in her dry mouth.

  ‘Water on the floor, love,’ Paula says, still fiddling with her hair. ‘By your feet, help yourself.’

  She looks at Paula then down at the case of water bottles feeling jarred and too slow to react. Water. She’s thirsty. She grabs two bottles, one for herself, one for Paco.

  ‘Thirsty?’ Paula asks.

  ‘Yeah I am actually,’ Roy says.

  ‘Chuck two up please,’ Paula asks.

  Heather hands them over and gets two more. One for herself and one for Paco. Again she pauses, thinking fast with a feeling she needs to catch up with the speed everyone else is working at. ‘Water?’

  ‘Hmmm?’ Reginald asks, glancing up from his notepad. ‘Oh yes, yes please. It is rather hot again today.’

  They drink water. In the back of an armoured van she drinks water with a woman on the back of a horse in a trailer behind them while driving to a fort that is being attacked.

  ‘You said a few hundred,’ she says again.

  ‘I did,’ Reginald says, lowering his bottle from the tiny sips he was taking. ‘It’s very hard to calculate the precise number as I have not had sufficient time to analyse the surrounding geographical area but yes, I would estimate the opposition to be anywhere from three hundred to a thousand.’

  ‘A thousand?’

  ‘That is the most I think the other player will field but yes.’

  ‘A thousand?’ Heather says again.

  ‘More likely a few hundred,’ Reginald says as though to give re-assurance.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Paula says, leaning round to look back at Heather. ‘Seems a lot but…well, you’ll see. Listen, on that point…Paco can fight?’

  ‘He can but not against three hundred or a thousand…’

  ‘It’s fine. Honestly,’ Paula says. ‘You’ll see what I mean. What about you? Can you fight? Marcy and I will probably stay here with Reginald unless it goes completely tits up then we’ll go in…actually, having said that, it’s probably best if you stay with us for the first one until you get an idea of how it works. Can you fire an assault rifle?’

  ‘No…I…’

  ‘It’s okay. Honestly,’ Paula says, exuding confidence from every pore of her body. ‘Pistol?’

  ‘No…I mean I can probably…’

  ‘Okay, at the back with me and Marcy then. Blowers will run you through the basics when we get a chance….what about Paco?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Will Paco stay back or…’

  ‘No, if he sees them he’ll attack…he always does.’

  ‘Okay…Howie, it’s Paula. Heather will stay with me and Marcy at Roy’s van. Heather said Paco attacks when he sees them so he’ll most likely go in with you.’

  ‘Roger, got it.’

  ‘It’s Roy. Want me in with you or overwatch?’

  ‘Overwatch please mate. Everyone listen in, we secure Lilly first…Dave and Mo, go straight for Lilly. Nick…don’t do a Cookey and run in blind. We go together, we stay together and we push to Lilly together. Clear?’

  ‘Boss.’

  ‘Sir.’

  ‘Clear.’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Howie.’

  ‘I’ll put overwatch on Lilly.’

  ‘They know what they’re doing,’ Paula tells Heather. ‘You’ll see…’

  *

  ‘We haven’t got a fucking clue what we’re doing,’ Howie says, shaking his head as he pushes his foot harder on the accelerator.

  ‘Say that again.’

  ‘We haven’t got a fucking clue…’

  Clarence looks over, his face deadpan for a second before the grin breaks. He shifts to look back at the others. ‘She’ll be fine, Nick. She’s immune.’

  ‘Yep,’ Nick says tightly as Marcy reaches out to rest a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘She’s nails, mate,’ Blowers says.

  ‘Hard as,’ Cookey adds.

  ‘Probably won’t be any left for us,’ Blowers says.

  Nick smiles but the worry is there in his eyes. He swallows and looks down to the back to Dave and Mo.

  Dave stares back. His eyes unblinking. His whole bearing devoid of expression. ‘I will not allow any harm to befall Lilly, Nicholas.’

  Nick blinks and looks away sharply. A sudden lump in his throat. Cookey widens his eyes. Blowers coughs and swallows. Clarence looks at Howie. Marcy exhales slowly. A feeling amongst them. The air thick around them. Howie drives faster.

  Ten

  The word repeats, mutates and spreads fast. The drivers of the plant machines jump to run down the road. Men and women carrying stacks of goods drop their loads to flee for the beach. Every boat available aims for the shore with engines opened to gain what speed they can. The seeds of panic are sowed, watered and grow roots to drive minds wild as heads turn to see the solid dense wall of human forms running at them.

  At the shore side, Doctors Anne Carlton and Andrew Stone try and hold nerve to complete the medical checks of the new arrivals but the panic grips. The threat of the infected coming towards them makes them flee with everyone else towards the boats.

  Lilly doesn’t feel panic. The icy determination settles as her cold blue eyes stare at the coming darkness. This is what it feels like then. This is what Nick faces every day. This is what Mr Howie leads them against.

  ‘Wait there,’ Peter says to his men before walking behind Kyle to fall in next to Lilly. Joan comes forward with Pea and Sam. Gary follows suit. The very few left holding weapons stand back, unsure if they should be running for the boats or waiting here.

  Lilly turns to view behind them and the people still running for the shore. She looks out to the sea and the boats trying to get back while the others disgorge the goods they loaded to take on people.

  ‘You’ve not enough boats there,’ Peter says quietly.

  ‘Some will have
to do two trips,’ Lilly replies. ‘We’ll fight from here,’ she adds, looking to her group. ‘We need to buy time for the boats to get back.’

  ‘There’s a few hundred coming down that road there,’ Peter says.

  ‘I can see that,’ Lilly says. ‘We’ll need more magazines,’ she adds to Joan before turning to the older men stood further back. ‘Go down and cover the beach…go back with the last boat and make sure the gates are secured.’

  ‘You staying here?’ one of them asks, his voice breaking with fear.

  ‘Now, please,’ Lilly says coldly, turning back to face down the road. The grenades go into her pockets. She draws the spare magazines that are placed on the road at her feet. Every movement is calm. Her hands steady. Her eyes flick up gauging distance to the thick mass coming towards them. This is what Nick has to see every day. This is what the others do. She is one of them. She will hold the line.

  ‘Nuts,’ Gary mutters, taking a knee next to Lilly to place his magazines on the ground.

  ‘Is a bit,’ Lilly says. ‘Go back to the fort if you want.’

  ‘Yeah right’ he says, yanking the bolt back on his rifle.

  ‘Sam, Pea? You two go back with the others.’

  ‘Okay,’ Sam says, dropping to take a knee.

  ‘We’ll do that,’ Pea says, doing the same on the other side.

  ‘Single shot at first, aim well,’ Joan says, walking in front of them handing out full magazines from a thick black duffel bag.

  ‘Thank you,’ Lilly says, taking the spares.

  ‘Thank you,’ Gary says, taking the spares.

  ‘Thank you,’ Sam says, taking the spares.

  ‘Thank you,’ Pea says, taking the spares.

  Kyle looks at Peter. Peter looks at the coming darkness then down to the five holding the line. Just five. One old woman. One ex-squaddie that should know better and two other women clearly terrified. All of them forming up on an ice-cold young woman staring death in the face without a flicker of fear. That spirit extends with an aura that reaches back to send a pulse of energy into the hard man. He turns and nods once to twelve strong men that stride from the van to take the line. Tattoos on arms and necks. Leathery skin and twinkling eyes that smile down to the old woman, the ex-squaddie, the two women and the ice-cold girl holding them all in place. They take knees. Weapons held. All manner of weapons.