The Undead Day Twenty

by RR Haywood

  Blowers switches into his role with a slow turn as he walks away from the Saxon and takes stock of the ground. The objective is to proceed up this road and find the side street then locate the archery sports place Roy needs. He looks up at the high buildings and the flats above the shops. He takes in the gaps between the buildings and the width of the road. A wide street like this is both good and bad. It gives greater room for manoeuvre but it also leaves them open to be flanked or encircled and that risk will only increase the deeper into the town they go.

  Howie and Clarence take point while they wait for Charlie. Blowers motions to Nick and Blinky to take the offside of the vehicles. Cookey and Mo the nearside. He motions for Roy to go for the rear and cover Charlie while she leads Jess out already fitted with the new saddle.

  ‘Windows, doors…those gaps…keep turning and watching,’ he says to Maddox, his voice low and muted.

  Jess comes out from the horsebox too fast. Her feet clanging the ramp dropped onto the road that sends a metallic thump echoing up the street. A slight rise in heart rates and a tensing of muscles in preparation from a noise that will signal where they are.

  The great horse skitters and tosses her head. Glad to be free from the confines of the horsebox and now taking in the smells of this new place. Charlie soothes her long nose, reading the reactions as Jess starts to settle.

  As Charlie mounts and settles into the new saddle so she smiles at the input Dave had during the saddle selection process. Which involved Dave staring for about ten seconds before telling her to use that one. She complied of course and quickly understood why. It was the D rings and straps that enabled pouches to be fitted behind the saddle that could be filled with magazines. It was the strap at the front too that Dave used to attach another pistol holster and the tethers, rings and hooks that were to be used to hold the axe in place. He even gave her another pistol.

  ‘Your sidearm remains with you. This one remains with the saddle. You will service and take responsibility for both.’

  ‘Yes, Dave,’ she answered quickly, watching him work to get the saddle how he felt it should be.

  Now she twitches the reins and turns in a wide circle to see how Jess moves on the surface of the road. Another twitch, a click of her tongue and she moves on past the horsebox and Roy’s van to clip clop up past the Saxon and a grinning Marcy waving at her while feeling like a sheriff from a western.

  ‘On point, not too far,’ Howie says, his dark eyes still as brooding as before. Reginald’s words settled everyone else and helped lift the awful tension but not for Howie who has stayed as quiet as before.

  ‘Sir,’ Charlie says, geeing on to gain distance out the front.

  Blowers stands ready, his rifle now not in the crook of his arms but held ready to fire. His left hand on the underside handguard, his right hand on the pistol grip with the forefinger held across the trigger guard and the barrel aimed down.

  Maddox stands next to him. Still sullen, still frustrated, angry, pissed off, hot, fed-up and hating every second of being with these people. His mind keeps flitting back to Lenski, the fort, the crews now dead, the crews still alive, the six people Howie killed and a hundred other things.

  ‘Move out…Charlie, Meredith coming up to you.’

  The procession starts. Charlie out front. Howie and Clarence behind her. Dave behind them. Nick and Blinky on one side. Cookey and Mo on the other. All of them staggered to give the best view. Rifles held tight. Bags on backs. Axes wedged down. Hand weapons ready to be drawn.

  The signs of damage from the storms are almost non-existent. A few tiles lie broken in the road. A glass window cracked but held in place. Further they go into the town but slowly, carefully. A chimney stack from an old dwelling that survived the bombings raids of the Luftwaffe lies almost intact on the pavement. Nick cranes his neck trying to see where it came from.

  ‘Body here…looks old,’ Charlie’s voice through the radio. They all look forward to see her indicating off to the right side before trotting on.

  ‘My team, go out wider from the vehicles,’ Blowers transmits, earning a look round from Clarence and Dave. ‘Vehicles engines too loud this close,’ Blowers says in way of explanation. Clarence gives a thumbs up. Dave shows no reaction but walks on.

  Minutes go by. Sweat drips down cheeks and foreheads. A heat shimmer rests above the road at an ever-steady distance. The sunlight gleams from the windows still intact. Blowers notices a lot of the windows at the this end are unbroken. A few doors smashed in here and there but the town looks good considering some of the hell-holes they’ve seen. This is obviously the commercial centre and he guesses that a Friday night wouldn’t have that many people here. The night-life must be centred somewhere else and the residential dwellings with be further out too.

  ‘Mr Howie, the road bends to the right,’ Charlie says into their ears. ‘I think that must be the side road Reginald saw on the map.’

  ‘What’s ahead?’ Howie asks through the radio.

  ‘Precinct area, Mr Howie…there is a small road going left that looks like it feeds to the back of the shops and away from the centre.’

  ‘Understood, hold that junction until we get closer.’

  ‘Reginald here, yes yes I do see that now. It had the appearance of a side road on the map but on checking the street atlas on a closer scale I can in fact see it is a continuation of the main High Street.’

  ‘Roger,’ Howie says. No funny comments, no quip, no questions either. Just a dull hard voice that makes Nick and Cookey look to Blowers who stares stoically ahead.

  Blowers sees the layout as described by Charlie. A service road to the left just wide enough for a delivery lorry. The main road bears right down a slight hill to the specialist stores while ahead lies a wide plaza with signs forbidding vehicular traffic. Brand names of stores over doors and windows. Strewn litter picked up by the rainwater then dumped in gulleys and dips.

  ‘Charlie, go into that precinct, we’ll go right down the road…Blowers, when we find the sports shop put one of your team at the rear to watch the road we came up and the precinct…’

  ‘Roger, Roy’s at the rear now, Boss,’ Blowers transmits.

  Charlie moves on and away at a steady pace. Her eyes scanning left, right and ahead. Her hearing straining to detect anything other than the engines and the sound of Jess’s feet. Meredith runs ahead with her nose down to the ground following trails left by the infected as they moved about. They were here. The things moved here. Many of them but the tracks are too many and varied for even her nose to discern clearly.

  Blowers scowls at the sensation of being watched. His hard eyes flick constantly to the windows above them as though ready to see someone pulling back or the motion of a figure moving.

  The procession follows the sweep to the right, feeling the slight decline of the road. Clarence stays at Howie’s side. Sensing the need to give comfort by closeness.

  ‘There,’ Howie says, pointing ahead to a double fronted store. A set of doors in the middle with huge plate glass windows either side. The right side window smashed in with a gaping hole, but then who wouldn’t break into a place with posters of crossbows in the window when the world is falling down?

  ‘Got it,’ Clarence says, his manner all business as he matches Howie’s curtness and solidity of tone.

  ‘Hold,’ Howie says into his radio, ‘Dave and Mo upfront, building clearance.’

  Blowers turns to see Mo running up from his position at the rear nearside. ‘Take Mo’s position,’ he tells Maddox.

  Maddox stares at him then at Mo. A roll of his eyes. A reluctance in his bearing as he strolls slowly down to Mo’s position, giving Cookey a smirk as he passes.

  ‘Charlie, you okay?’

  ‘Fine, Mr Howie. All quiet.’

  ‘Charlie, it’s Paula. Is that shopping centre open?’

  ‘Yes it is, doors are smashed in.’

  ‘Howie, we can use that for supplies,’ Paula says.

  ‘Yep, we’ll
get this done first…’

  ‘Boss, it’s Blowers. You okay if we turn the engines off? Can’t hear a thing over them.’

  ‘You don’t need to ask, Blowers. Do as you see fit.’

  The engines stop. A silence settles broken by the ticks and clunks of vehicles cooling as they come to settle. Dave and Mo go forward. Rifles slung. Pistols drawn and held double handed as they work towards the front of the shop. Blowers wipes the sweat from his forehead and stretches his back from the uncomfortable sensation of his wet top clinging to his body. As he turns he spots Maddox reading a poster in a window. His rifle held in one hand at his side.

  ‘Get your fucking eyes on,’ Blowers hisses into his radio. Maddox turns his head slowly then goes back to reading the poster. ‘Roy, you got the back?’ Blowers asks, furious at the gap in the defences.

  ‘I have…Maddox, stop staring at that window…’ Roy says.

  Maddox stares at the window. Refusing to budge or turn. Refusing the order. Blowers seethes but stays where he is and denies the urge to run over and batter the twat up the street. He glances down to Clarence whose face shows exactly what he thinks. Howie watches the building as Dave and Mo test the door then start climbing through the window.

  Blowers scans and watches, turning infrequently to see Maddox staring about as though bored. He knows Maddox is smart and knows this is just a show but the irritation is there. The refusal to do what everyone else is doing. They only stay alive by everyone doing their part. That’s what soldiering is. It’s a machine where the total is greater than the sum of it’s parts.

  Everyone else feels the same irritation. Cookey watches his mate. Nick, on the other side of the vehicle, tuts softly and wishes for a few minutes alone with Maddox. Blinky scowls. She wasn’t part of whatever Maddox did before but she can see the effect he’s having on the team and that’s shit. He needs a kicking. She’ll do it with pleasure.

  ‘Silly boy,’ Paula mutters, wincing at the look of fury on Blowers’ face.

  ‘Maddox?’ Reginald enquiries softly.

  ‘Yep,’ she replies. ‘Only one way this will end if he keeps pushing Blowers like that.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Reginald says, mopping his brown with a handkerchief despite the air-conditioning only having been off for a few minutes.

  ‘Sooner the better too if you ask me,’ she adds.

  ‘Ground floor clear, Mr Howie,’ Mo says through the radio.

  ‘Okay. Both of you come out.’

  Only then does Howie turn to look down past Blowers to Maddox still reading posters in windows and looking everywhere but where he should be. Clarence looks too but whereas Howie hides any reaction Clarence’s face says it all with an expression of utter distaste.

  ‘Pah,’ Mo sputters coming out the window brushing his hands over his face as he gets over the sill into the street. ‘Cobwebs,’ he says, trying to pluck invisible strands from his skin.

  ‘Blowers, your team up to Charlie. Have a look at that shopping centre…Roy? Get what you need. Marcy, Paula, you hang on here until Blowers reports back. Mo, back in your team.’

  ‘Sir,’ Mo says, still pulling webs from his face. ‘They get you?’ he asks Dave coming out the window behind him.

  ‘No,’ Dave says.

  ‘Why not?’ Mo asks as Blowers stares on wondering how the hell Mo can talk so casually to Dave.

  ‘Spiders are scared of me,’ Dave says as flat and dull as ever.

  ‘Really?’ Mo asks, a deadly killer in training and a gifted soldier but still as gullible as he is young.

  ‘Dave just made a joke,’ Cookey whispers.

  ‘I know,’ Nick whispers from the other side of the Saxon.

  ‘My team on me,’ Blowers orders. ‘Maddox, you too.’

  The team filter off to re-group behind the horse-box as Roy walks down tutting and shaking his head at Maddox then sharing a pained look with Blowers. ‘Long day,’ he mutters.

  ‘Say that again,’ Blowers replies, unaware that is the first small talk he has exchanged with Roy.

  ‘You’re giving them more freedom,’ Clarence says quietly once Blowers’ team is out of earshot.

  ‘Blowers knows what he’s doing,’ Howie says.

  ‘You okay?’ Clarence asks.

  Howie nods then shrugs and nods again, ‘yeah…’

  ‘Enjoy your new crossbow, Roy,’ Blinky says through the radio.

  ‘It’s not a bloody cross…’ Roy snaps as he realises the joke within the words and looks up to see Blinky walking backwards grinning widely while showing him a middle finger. ‘Very funny…Patricia,’ Roy transmits, smiling back at her.

  Clarence tracks the joke shared then looks again at Howie as he senses there is a smarter plan underway. None of them ever make jokes with Roy but Blinky just did and the conversations between Roy and Blowers have been better today too. Maddox has become a common problem. A difficulty they can all share and in that the unity grows tighter. Is Howie intending that or is it by accident?

  ‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ Roy says, rushing towards the broken window as Marcy and Paula climb out from their vehicles and walk down.

  ‘Take your time,’ Howie says.

  *

  Blinky turns back, grinning and chuckling as she falls in with the others. She chuckles again, sighs, looks round and then over at Maddox. ‘You’re a cunt.’

  ‘What?’ Maddox says, surprised at the suddenness and the way she said it.

  ‘Selfish cunt…like a total fucking chopper. You’re letting the team down, stop being a cunt.’

  ‘Well said,’ Cookey says.

  ‘Fact,’ Nick says.

  ‘I’m not in your team.’

  ‘You are. You’re here,’ Blinky says. ‘This is the team and you’re in it…I swear, Maddox. If someone gets hurts cos you’re being a bellend I’ll fuck you up…’

  ‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ Maddox replies

  ‘These are my mates,’ Blinky says, staring past Cookey and Nick to Maddox. ‘You don’t fuck about out here, Maddox. You got an issue then deal with it off the pitch…’

  ‘Pitch?’ Maddox sneers.

  ‘I’ll fuck you up you snotty cunt…’

  ‘Enough, focus,’ Blowers says.

  Blinky faces forward. The team captain just gave an order and orders are followed. She’ll dig him later when no one is looking.

  They reach the end of the building line and move across into the pedestrian area bordered by the brand name stores. Charlie waits in the middle on Jess. Smiling at them walking towards her with her rifle butt resting on her right thigh.

  ‘Hey sexy lady,’ Cookey calls out.

  ‘Hello, Cookey,’ Charlie says, already grinning at him.

  ‘I was talking to Jess but hey, Charlie, you okay?’

  ‘You fancy my horse?’

  ‘Your horse is fit,’ Cookey says.

  ‘How’s Mr Howie?’ Charlie asks, the smile easing a little as she speaks.

  ‘Quiet,’ Nick says, looking back towards the road. ‘Anything here?’

  ‘Nothing, Meredith keeps sniffing but…I’ve got that horrible sensation of being watched,’ she whispers with a shudder. ‘Most unsettling.’

  ‘Most unsettling,’ Cookey says.

  ‘It is,’ Charlie says.

  ‘I know,’ Cookey says, nodding seriously, ‘it is most unsettling…anyway, so…’ he looks round the street then at Maddox. ‘Mate, seriously…you got to stop being like that.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘All awkward and sulky and shit. Grow up…we’re here, we’ve got to do it so…’

  ‘I do not want to be here. I do not like you. I do not like any of you.’

  ‘Maddox,’ Cookey says, looking at him earnestly, ‘speak your mind and let it out…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do you want a hug?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You are a very angry man aren’t you, yes? An angry man? Are you an angry man?’ Cookey asks, his voice getting high
er in tone. ‘Bit angry yes? Little bit angry?’

  Maddox sneers, shakes his head and looks away with cool disdain.

  ‘Wanna hug? Wanna huggy poos? Wanna man cuddle? Wanna a reacharound from Blowers?’

  ‘Twat,’ Blowers laughs as the others chuckle and grin.

  ‘Wanna do bumming? Wanna do manhugging? Wanna do…’

  ‘Fuck off,’ Maddox snaps.

  ‘Ah,’ Cookey cheers, seeing the twitch at the corner of Maddox mouth. ‘Made you smile made you care made you lose your underwear…’

  ‘What the fuck?’ Nick asks, laughing at him.

  ‘I ain’t smiling,’ Maddox says, suppressing the smile.

  ‘You did smile.’

  ‘I did not smile.’

  ‘You did. I saw it. You smiled…you smiled when I said bumming which means you want some willy…ooh you look all angry now…’

  ‘Keep going,’ Maddox says quietly, staring hard with a tone that Mo knows is his pre-cursor to fighting. Mo stiffens, sliding his right foot back as his head cocks an inch to the side.

  ‘He’s getting all naughty,’ Cookey says, sensing the mood drop and seeing the threat but having precisely no concern at either. ‘Mr Howie is a good man and he’s having a bad day…you say anything to him again and…’

  ‘You all keep making threats,’ Maddox says, looking round at them all. ‘Someone do it then…someone beat me…give me a kicking…come on? I’m right here?’ his tone stays calm and controlled as he deflects the subtle aggression back at them.

  ‘Maddox,’ Charlie says, as frustrated as everyone else but her voice as respectful and polite as ever. ‘Please stop, this is hard enough without…’

  ‘Just get on with it,’ Maddox cuts across her words while making a point of looking away as the tension and frustration continue to grow in all of them.

  *

  ‘What a sodding awful horrible day,’ Marcy says, walking down to join Howie, Dave and Clarence.

  ‘Isn’t it just,’ Paula calls out, marching down from the van. ‘We’ve got to do something about Maddox…’

  ‘We are doing something,’ Howie says.