Professor Randall smiled, not with happiness but hunger. He lurched from the recess, catching Amy off guard. She slipped and fell. The smile fell from Frank as he charged forward, Miles followed. The world slowed for Amy as she watched her dad barely moving and Professor Randall fall towards her, his arms outstretched. She was so close; she had almost made it.
Frank watched them fall, he watched as his machete flew through the air – not the one from his hand but the one that Adam held. It was like a 3D movie with the machete moving slightly faster than the action. Frank remained still; he watched the spinning blade…almost as though he was guiding it.
Chapter Sixty-One
Manchester, Salford.
Harry surveyed the madness that had consumed his city from a high rise in Salford Quays. He had taken over Media City so he could communicate with the outside world. He had most of Salford on lockdown, however he couldn’t control the constant stream of dead that kept heading his way. His plan was to get reinforcements into Manchester by advertising a safe haven until the country was back on its feet.
He could see his beloved Old Trafford from his vantage point. He rested his hands on the replica European Cup that he had retrieved from the famous club. This was true art, won by his heroes against their bitter rivals. He had also ordered the fire that still burnt at the Etihad stadium, the black smoke loomed over the city like a dark cloud ready to burst.
Since the outbreak he had secured the city with a harshness that frightened the living. He had armed his men with illegal firearms. Now the police had been incapacitated, his men had entered the stations and relieved them of their legal weapons and tactical armour. The clean-up crews now wore riot gear, backed up with shields and skull crunching batons. Harry was careful not to give just anybody a gun, he was not naïve enough to think that just because the country had fallen, he still didn’t have enemies.
*
He was the quickest to react when it was confirmed the UK and the EU were no more. The other gangsters in Manchester had been quick to set up a meeting so they could work out a plan to their advantage. Harry just waded in and killed them all. All except one, he hadn’t attended the meeting, he had never trusted Harry. Joe McKinney had Irish blood running through his veins that made him both cautious and angry.
He had sat outside the meeting place and watched as six heads of the underworld had entered and only one exited. A few of the loyal employees were put down with their bosses, the others turned their heads and accepted new jobs. Harry had promised them all lucrative incentives when the country was stabilised, then the apocalypse came. With that prospect looking unlikely he was organising districts for his men to control. He had put a plan in place immediately to round up the living and put them to work.
Erik Hanko had been McKinney’s right-hand man. He had made his apologies at the meeting and took the place of his boss. The reason he was still alive and now working for Harry was because he had remained calm throughout the massacre and looked Harry in the eyes. He told Harry what he wanted but more importantly what he could do for him. Harry recognised the potential. He gave Erik everything he wanted, in return he had vowed to find his boss and kill him. McKinney knew the score when he watched them both walk out of the meet side by side.
Erik had kept his side of the bargain. He rolled up to Harry’s club a few hours later with a wooden barrel. At first there was a bit of a stand-off. Bull had thought the crazy eastern European was trying to blow up the club and refused him entry. The scene had caused Harry to come out and end the commotion.
‘What the fuck is going on out here. The city is crawling with the dead and you lot are making a racket.’
‘This crazy bastard is trying to roll a bomb through the club door,’ said Bull.
Erik Hando had several guns pointed at him. ‘Mr Flowers, I bring you a gift.’
‘I’ve got all the booze I need thanks,’ he looked at Bull, ready to signal the death of the big Slovakian.
‘Not booze, Mr Flowers, take a look,’ he motioned for Harry to take off the lid.
‘Not a fucking chance,’ he said. ‘You move the lid.’
‘Fucking hell H, if it is a bomb, we’ll all be done for,’ said Bull backing up.
‘No bomb, a gift,’ said Erik.
‘Go on then, open it,’ said Harry.
Erik prised the lid open. They all took a step back including Harry. An odour of death crept out. Erik stood pleased with his work. Harry peered into the barrel, followed by Bull. The face of Joe McKinney stared back. His gaze was unnatural and one associated with decapitation. The rest of his body had been dismembered and rammed into the barrel.
‘You don’t fuck about do you?’ said Bull.
‘No he doesn’t,’ replied Harry.
‘I show my loyalty and honour our agreement,’ stated Erik.
‘Yes you have,’ said Harry. ‘Come in and have a drink, consider it an induction into the organisation. Someone roll that piece of shit into the canal.’
*
Erik stood next to Bull and Harry as they surveyed their little kingdom. ‘We need to go house to house, clear out any of the dead and round up the living,’ said Harry.
‘That will take a lot of manpower,’ replied Erik.
‘The clean-up crews have got their hands full keeping the streets clear,’ added Bull.
‘Where do you suggest we keep the living, if they are allowed to roam, we will just increase the ranks of the dead, it will be counterproductive,’ said Erik.
‘Gentlemen, I have a plan. Let’s make some loud noise up at that shit palace, The Etihad. We’ll draw the dead in there and lock them in.’
Bull interrupted, ‘You gave orders for us to burn it to the ground, the black smoke we are all choking on, that’s it.’
‘So put the fire out, new plan.’
‘Do we still dial three nines for the emergency services,’ replied Bull.
Erik couldn’t help but laugh. ‘He has a point boss.’
‘Ok I was a bit over excited when I ordered it burnt to the ground, let’s see what we can do with it, it will serve our purpose well if we can save it. It’s away from us and that’s where we want the dead.’
Bull had picked up a nearby phone and was pressing the buttons. ‘Excuse me madam,’ he said into the receiver. ‘I know you have your hands full with the dead, but could you give me a response time for your fire service. Of course I’ll hold.’
Erik laughed again, ‘I never knew you were this funny, you usually stand about all serious.’
‘Have you finished,’ asked Harry.
‘Yes I’m still here,’ said Bull into the phone. ‘All of your firemen have called in sick, you think it may be something they’ve eaten – you mean like their wife and kids.’
That one cracked up Erik. ‘I’m using that one,’ he said.
Harry just looked at Bull. ‘Fair enough H, I’ll see what can be done.’
‘And Bull.’
‘Yes Harry.’
‘It was funny.’
Harry looked across at Old Trafford, he had just realised where he was going to house the living.
Chapter Sixty-Two
North Wales, UK.
As the woman coughed up the water, the dizziness subsided. She had been mistaken and seeing double. There were two men helping her but only one was rugged, the other was more child than man. Once her coughing fit had passed she thanked them again.
‘Thanks, to you and your son,’ she said to the rugged man.
Aaron bellowed, ‘Yeah well-done dad,’ he said slapping Ronnie on the shoulder.
‘I’ve a good mind to throw you back overboard,’ replied Ronnie only half joking. He thought about his own dead son.
‘No offense intended,’ she replied quickly. ‘I’m still trying to focus my eyes, thought my brain was going to explode.’
Ronnie rubbed his chin; he had a couple of day’s growth hanging from his face; maybe he did look that rough. ‘I’m just kidding, my name’s Ronnie,
the blonde streak is Aaron.’ He extended his hand to help her up.
‘Cheers, I’m Jane.’
Aaron sniggered. ‘What’s so funny?’ asked Ronnie.
‘Jane, she was more like Tarzan the way she came flying through those trees.’
A slight nudge from Ronnie and Aaron was overboard.
*
Aaron tied the small rowboat to the back of the river barge. Jane was greeted by Derek Williams, the driver of the barge and his family. Derek’s wife Becky handed Jane a large bath towel to dry herself. Aaron was busy stripping down. Skye and Ethan just looked on.
‘Thank you,’ she replied as she took the towel. ‘I’m Jane.’
‘Hi, I’m Becky, this is my husband Derek and the kids are Ethan and Skye.’
‘Is this your boat’’ she asked.
‘It’s not a boat, it’s a barge,’ said Derek.
‘Boat, barge it’s still floating on water,’ said Ronnie.
Derek had only met Ronnie an hour earlier, he didn’t like or trust him. In fact if he had been a bit quicker he’d have left them at the harbour. He knew they would be trouble when their camouflaged truck came hurtling around the corner out of control. Derek had just finished loading the supplies onto the barge when they appeared out of nowhere at speed. Derek and his family are an off grid type of family. They had been backpacking around the countryside when the day of reckoning as he had described it started. Lucky for them they were close to the lake taking in the scenery. When the first attacks happened he didn’t hesitate to commandeer the barge that had been moored just offshore. He set the barge in the middle of the lake while he took stock of the on-board inventory. The cupboards were empty except for a few tea bags and the milk had turned.
Derek had had the good sense to tie the small rowboat to the back of the barge when he moved away from the shore. He had rowed back alone to loot the nearby café and the adjoining house. He found a wheelbarrow and loaded it up with enough supplies to last him and his family a good stretch into the apocalypse. He heard the pop of a blown tyre followed by the crunch of metal scraping metal. The two idiots from the army came tearing into the bay, followed by a swarm of the dead. They were heading for the buildings until they clapped eyes on Derek and his little rowboat. Before he had time to object they were pushing the boat out into the water and rowing as the dead walked in after them. It was the second time the boat had been commandeered in the space of an hour. Derek was positive that if he weren’t the only one who could steer the barge, he and his family would be sitting in the middle of the lake in a small rowboat.
‘In answer to your question,’ said Derek. ‘It’s wasn’t my boat but I felt the need to acquire it to save my family.’
‘Fair enough. What’s your story?’ She said to Ronnie. ‘You don’t look like the military unless they are arming the troops with sawn off shotguns.’
‘Just a fella trying to get home,’ he replied.
‘Where’s home?’ She asked him.
‘Manchester,’ he replied.
‘I heard it was bad there,’ said Derek.
‘There is a broadcast being sent, some guy saying he is the mayor or regulator, something like that and that it is a safe haven. He says they have control of the streets and can provide shelter for the living,’ said Jane.
‘Manchester doesn’t have a mayor,’ said Ronnie. ‘Probably just some nut job trying to lure people in.’
‘Sounds legit,’ said Jane. ‘Mr or Mayor Harry Flowers he called himself.’
Ronnie almost choked on his forced laughter, ‘You’re fucking kidding me. I don’t believe it Harry Flowers is touting himself as the saviour of the people.’
‘Do you know him?’ Said Aaron.
‘Know him, I worked for the prick in another lifetime. He calls himself the Mayor of Manchester in his deluded reality. He is the biggest crook in Manchester.’
‘Aren’t all the politicians,’ said Derek dryly.
*
Ronnie set a course for Manchester via the port of Seaforth. Derek objected, overruled, Jane didn’t care.
‘You need dropping off somewhere on the way?’ Ronnie asked Jane.
‘Nope.’
‘Is that it, no indication of where you’re from?’
‘Here, there, everywhere really,’ she responded.
‘Family?’ Asked Becky.
‘Only child,’ she replied.
‘Parent’s?’ Chipped in Derek.
‘Adopted,’ she said quickly.
Derek was about to continue with the interrogation, ‘Who gives a fuck,’ said Ronnie. ‘She obviously doesn’t want to tell too much,’ he said to her.
She gave him a wink and a nod. ‘We were only being friendly,’ said Becky.
‘Nosey, more like,’ said Aaron.
‘Best not get to friendly,’ replied Jane. ‘Never know when you’re going to need to shove something sharp through an eyeball.’
That told Ronnie that this woman had killed, probably family members. She didn’t want to talk about it, just like he didn’t. He understood her pain and anger. He doubted she would last the journey with them, most likely she would hop when they were sleeping and the dead were not so busy.
He didn’t really want to be stuck on a boat with a family either but after their near miss on the roads, it seemed much safer on the water. He hadn’t seen any dead people who could swim yet so for now that was his way home. Once they got to Seaforth docks they could all go their separate ways.
The boat got to Chester; it was low on fuel but a much bigger problem lay before them. A small estuary with a raised embankment was preventing them from going any further. The Old Dee Bridge was clear of the dead as far as they could see. Further up the river a couple of sightseeing cruises, idled in the water. Both of the boats had been moored to their own jetties in the centre of the river.
‘Can you steer one of those?’ Ronnie asked Derek.
‘Boats are like cars, it shouldn’t be a problem,’ he replied. ‘How are we going to get to them?’
‘I’m working on that part,’ he replied.
They moored the boat at the bridge gate, it was secured with padlocks and offered protection from the dead. They were surrounded by high walls. The kids stayed on the boat with their mother while Ronnie, Aaron, Jane and Derek climbed the metal stairs and peered over the stone wall. A few of the dead bumped about on the bridge, nothing they couldn’t handle. To their right a flight of stone steps led to an over the road stone bridge, it gave a good vantage point to what was waiting around the corner. The downside was that it led to accommodation which probably meant more of the dead.
Jane spoke first, ‘We need to split up, two take the high ground and two take the low – see what we run into.’
‘I don’t think we should split up,’ replied Derek.
‘She is right,’ said Ronnie.
Aaron nodded his agreement, ‘Me and Ron will go up top.’
‘That won’t work,’ she replied.
‘Why not?’ Asked Aaron.
‘Derek needs to be protected seeing as he is the only one who can steer the boat. So he’ll go up top with Ronnie. Me and you, well we’ll be the bait running about the ground.’
‘I don’t like the sound of that,’ replied Aaron.
‘You’ll be fine as long as you can keep up with me,’ she smiled. ‘And boys no guns, we want to keep a low profile.’
‘What about my wife and kids?’ Asked Derek. ‘I’m not going anywhere without them.’
‘We haven’t forgotten about them,’ said Ronnie. ‘But I’m sure you would want to scope out the area before placing them in any unnecessary danger.’
Derek thought about it for a minute, ‘You’re right.’
‘Let’s do it then,’ said Ronnie passing Jane an axe, he noticed how she handled it with confidence. He gave Derek a dagger.
‘What am I supposed to do with this,’ said Derek.
‘Harsh language won’t stop one of those from taking a bi
te out of you but a good whack in the brain with that will,’ replied Ronnie.
‘I’m not sure I can do that,’ he said.
‘I suggest you give your wife and kids a kiss goodbye then,’ chipped in Aaron.
Ronnie was over the wall and puling Derek by the collar before he could respond. Jane and Aaron followed. ‘Remember, no shooting,’ she said.
Ronnie and Aaron had their shotguns strapped across their backs and the Glocks fastened to their thighs. ‘Can I have one of those,’ said Derek pointing to the guns.
‘You ever fired one before?’ Said Ronnie.
‘Never,’ replied Derek.
‘Then the answer is no, now move.’ When Ronnie said move Derek thought he meant to get on his toes and head out. He turned into the arms of a dead creature. Ronnie shoved him aside and split its skull with his axe.
‘I don’t think you’re long for this world,’ he said to Derek as he headed towards the stairs.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Seaforth, Back at the beach.
They exited their war room like four people and a dog on a mission. The only thing that was missing was a soundtrack. The two Alpha males had discussed a strategy while Claudia and Billie-Jo packed supplies and powdered their noses, for Claudia that was literal. Lola powdered her nose in the middle of reception, she couldn’t hold on any longer.
Ben had attempted to map out a path towards the lighthouse until Tom took the more direct approach and informed him that they killed anything or anyone that was a threat and the most direct route was around the lake, across the beach and up and over the rocks.
‘That’s also the most dangerous route,’ protested Ben.
‘I don’t know how long you’ve been holed up in here but the whole fucking environment is dangerous right now,’ said Tom
‘I just think a bit more stealth may be in order,’ replied Ben.
‘We’ve tried stealth, I got sprawled over a speeding car. We go balls out, fast and efficient. We can have a quick scan of the area, pick off any stragglers and be on the rocks before we are noticed. Then we can go slow and stealth. The expressions of Billie-Jo and Claudia suggested they agreed. ‘It’s not only the dead we have to contend with. The living are little more hostile than usual.’
The Good, The Bad & The Dead | Book 1 | Once Upon A Time In An Undead World Page 33
