The Good, The Bad & The Dead | Book 1 | Once Upon A Time In An Undead World

by Grimes, A. L.

  ‘This lot are my best hope of seeing Adam again,’ she replied.

  Declan popped up from behind the bar, ‘Got them,’ he said referring to Mike’s car keys.

  Mickey had nominated Declan to be the runner. ‘Oh come on Mickey why me?’ he asked.

  ‘Why me he asks?’ said Mickey to Flynn. ‘Because every time we get pinched by the coppers, you’re the one who is away on his toes, out of sight and turns up four hours later stinking of booze and a stupid grin on your face.’

  Declan grinned, ’I just wanted to hear you admit that I’m faster than both of you fat bastards.’ He swilled a pint down his neck.

  ‘Not as fast as your da though when he saw that ugly mug push past your ma’s knees. It’s the last time anyone clapped eyes on him,’ said Flynn grinning back.

  Declan was about to respond with more derogatory banter. ‘In case you two daft fucks have forgotten we are trying to get past a bunch of dead people who want to eat us,’ snapped Mickey. ‘You’re going out the back Declan, don’t say a word just listen. You will draw them away. Me, Flynn and Juanita will unlock the door, get to the car and pick you up on the way past.’ Any questions?’

  ‘What about us?’ asked Eric.

  ‘I’d be quick locking the door behind us,’ said Mickey.

  *

  Declan had consumed several more pints before he stood at the back door. A small glass window allowed him to survey the outside. A couple of the dead moped about, not much of a challenge to get past those he thought. He would sneak out the door maybe even bash their skulls in on the way past. Mickey had told him to run straight out and get the attention of the crowd, it had sounded like a good idea until he had finished off his sixth pint. His judgement had become less focused and he began to think for himself, which was typically when the coppers turned up and all but him ended in a cell.

  He knew Mickey was right, he usually was but he figured the more he laid out the less he would need to dodge. Mickey stood next to Declan who assured him he understood while thinking different. He slipped out the door and bumped into a stack of crates. They rocked back and forth; Declan stopped them from toppling – the dead looked at him.

  ‘Shite,’ he said as he caved in the first skull. The second corpse took a glancing blow to the side of the head before several more whacks left it dead and bleeding in a heap.

  ‘We’re fucking dead,’ said Mickey looking through the window. Declan turned and gave him the thumbs up, Mickey motioned for him to get a move on. He disappeared around the corner.

  As he entered the small alleyway to the side of the club, he got his wish – a challenge. A half dozen of the dead barred his way, all aroused by the commotion he had caused moments earlier. He smacked the first two hard, not enough to disable but enough to knock them out of his way. The third lunged, he skipped around it barging into the fourth and knocking it across some metal bins. The bins clanged and crashed like an out of tune drummer. The dead groaned like an equally bad choir. He crashed through the final two and spread-eagled to a stop across the asphalt floor. He had got the attention of the horde; they headed his way.

  At the main entrance Mickey watched as the dead moved away, Juanita stood on one side, Flynn the other. Mickey put his hand on the lock, he was just about to turn it when he felt a prod of metal at the base of his skull.

  ‘No sudden movements,’ said Eric. He held the shotgun expertly.

  ‘The gun is empty old man,’ said Mickey turning slowly to face him.

  ‘I know where Mike keeps the cartridges, test me if you doubt I’m telling the truth.’

  ‘You’ll need to pull the trigger if you want the keys,’ said Mickey calmly.

  He pulled back the hammers. ‘Eric, there is no need for this. We can sort something out,’ said Juanita.

  ‘Why don’t you shut the fuck up, you pikey loving whore.’

  Juanita was shocked, it was the first time she had ever heard profanity from Eric, she had never been called a whore before and the last person to call Mickey a pikey ended up in hospital.

  ‘I don’t think you have it in you to pull the trigger,’ Mickey goaded.

  ‘If you are going to wind him up, do it quickly and take the fucking gun so we can get out of here,’ said Flynn.

  ‘Try me you dumb bastard,’ replied Eric.

  It was that quick that Eric was lying on the floor before he realised, he was no longer holding the gun. Mickey had noticed that Eric’s fingers were not on the trigger. He grabbed the barrel and shoved the butt into his chest. Mickey checked the gun.

  ‘Would you believe it; the old fucker wasn’t lying.’ He snapped the gun closed.

  Flynn went to give Eric a couple of kicks, but Mickey stopped him. ‘Let’s go. If you want to live the rest of you, you need to lock up behind us.’

  Mickey had a quick look, unlocked the door and then the three of them were out in the night air. The dead split off, some advanced-on Declan the other turned towards the three as they raced across the car park. Sandra tried to close the door, but she was too late. Several of the dead advanced into the club and as the three reached the car they heard the screams of the living.

  Mickey pressed the central locking as he ran, nothing. ‘Piece of shit,’ he said.

  A Sainsbury’s staff member reached out for him, all teeth and claws. He gripped the shotgun by the barrel and smacked the corpse full force in the face with the butt, pulverising bone. They reached the car, Mickey at the driver’s side. Flynn gawped in horror as Mickey took aim across the roof of the car, the gun was pointed at him.

  ‘Move,’ he shouted. Flynn ducked as Mickey emptied the first barrel into the face of another corpse. The bang got the attention of the horde. They jumped in the car, it started first time. Mickey spun the wheel and drove past the advancing horde. He stopped and looked for Declan.

  He saw him, moving slowly carrying a limp. He was about to call to him, but it wouldn’t have mattered. The Declan that he knew was not the Declan that was coming towards him. They had known each other since childhood, they were brothers.

  ‘Pass me the shotgun,’ he said to Flynn as he got out the car.

  Flynn passed it out and looked beyond Mickey. He didn’t say a word he just cried for both his friends. Juanita was already feeling their pain. When Declan was close enough, he put him out of his misery. He climbed back into the car and hit the accelerator. As they sped through the gates of the white bricked wall the first flames took hold in the club.

  Eric died in his favourite place.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Outskirts of Manchester, Central UK.

  This is it, thought Laura as the dead continued to rock them back and forth. Her young life snuffed out by a horde of ravaging dead while in the company of a man she barely knew but had grown to dislike. She was actually surprised that they had got this far. Ever since she met Eddie their adventures had been like one of those old slapstick movies, a series of comedy errors and a huge slice of luck. That luck was about to come to an end.

  Outside the car was completely surrounded by snarling faces and bloody claws all eager to tear the occupants apart. Inside Eddie sat picking his nose and judging by the smell, Laura was certain that Eddie’s bowels had become vacant. At least thirty of the dead had them trapped and she bet the smell was worse in the car.

  ‘Have you shit yourself?’ she asked him.

  ‘No,’ he replied insulted.

  ‘You might want to check,’ she said.

  ‘I suffer with wind when I’m in a stressful situation.’

  ‘Wind? My eyes are watering.’ She said without humour.

  ‘I don’t think my bowel movements are our greatest concern, do you?’

  ‘No,’ she said sheepishly. ‘How long do you think the glass will hold out for?

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s going to be a horrible death.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Being eaten alive, I hope I don’t come back.’

  Laura had not though
t that far ahead, she had consciously blocked out the vision of her death at the hands of these monsters. ‘Let’s not do this.’ She said.

  ‘Why not? ‘We need to prepare ourselves. Make peace with everything we have done in our lives, our mistakes, regrets and ask for some sort of forgiveness.’

  ‘Are you religious?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So who are you going to ask for forgiveness?’

  ‘You for starters, my brother, my parents and these poor bastards outside.’ He said as he looked at his bag.

  She was surprised at his response mainly because he had mentioned her in his regret speech but also that he wanted forgiveness from the dead. ‘What’s in the bag?’ she asked.

  ‘Personal stuff, I’ve told you before – don’t ask again.’

  ‘Why do you want forgiveness from the dead?’

  ‘I’ve not been a good man.’

  Laura thought back to when they first met Eddie and escaped through the streets. She remembered the canister she thought was a flask. The words ZVR. ‘What’s in the canister?’

  ‘What canister?’

  ‘Don’t fuck about with me,’ the hammer came into view. ‘The one in your bag, the same bag that you won’t leave.’

  ‘It’s got nothing to do with you.’

  ‘I think it may have something to do with all these dead people roaming about – what is ZVR?’

  Before he could deny or be interrogated further they heard the roar of an engine from behind. Whatever it was, it was big and travelling at speed. The dead looked towards it. They turned to look through the rear window as the crowd thinned. Laura watched as the rest of the dead turned their attention from them and focused on the juggernaut hurtling towards them.

  The intensity of the headlights blinded Eddie and Laura, they turned away - the dead were unfazed. The wagon surged through the crowd bursting open bodies and scattering limbs in all directions. A severed arm bounced along the top of the car and landed on the window screen in front of Eddie and Laura. The wagon screeched to a halt, paused while the driver shifted the gears into reverse then sped backwards and dismembered more of the dead.

  The wagon was a Mack front loading refuse truck used by the local council. The front had been modified, not by the council but by its current owners. Across the front-loading forks, five thin metal planks had been welded vertically across. Eddie thought it looked like one of those five bladed razors – he wasn’t far off. The back had been reinforced for impact. The dead didn’t stand a chance. When a few stragglers was all that remained, half a dozen men disembarked and finished them off. They walked towards the car menacingly. Laura felt more frightened now than when the dead had suffocated them. Eddie smiled, he knew three of the men and more importantly he knew the man leading them.

  The main man held a baseball bat in his left hand and an automatic pistol in his right. He had a shaved head and a neck that had long been buried into his shoulders. He wore a leather jacket and thick soled boots; the man was out for trouble. Laura didn’t like the coldness of his eyes or the hardness of his walk. Danny Wright was known as ‘Bull’ in this part of the world, he was Harry Flowers’ right hand man. Luckily for both of them ‘Bull’ had only ever met one man who he had ever taken a step back from, it wasn’t Eddie but it was someone he was close too.

  Eddie got out the car to greet them. ‘Nice one Danny,’ he said.

  ‘Eddie fucking Makin, if I’d have known it was you I’d have left you to the fuckbags.’

  ‘C’mon Danny, it’s been a while.’

  ‘Not long enough,’ he snarled. ‘Where are your brothers?’

  Eddie wasn’t about to tell him that Tommy was dead as for his other brother, fuck knows where he was but he wasn’t going to tell him that either. ‘They’re at the house, I’m going to get Wayne.’

  ‘I hear Psycho has gone and got himself a proper job and settled down with a family.’

  ‘He doesn’t like that name,’ said Eddie.

  ‘He’s not here and who is going to tell him?’

  ‘I might,’ said Eddie.

  ‘Good luck getting through to him, I hear he is somewhere in the Welsh mountains chasing sheep,’ the rest of the men laughed.

  ‘He’s back at the house,’ replied Eddie.

  ‘Listen you little gobshite, your brother isn’t back at the house, Jeff spoke with him the other day while he was packing his bikinis into the car.’ Jeff was another knuckle head standing behind Danny. ‘He said he was off to spend time with the family, I’m guessing if you’re here – that didn’t include you.’

  That was news to Eddie, he hadn’t seen his brother for over three weeks. ‘I meant I assumed he was in his own house.’

  ‘Sure you did, where’s the other one? Is he stoned, oblivious to what’s going on while the runt is out on his own?’

  ‘Who you calling runt, no neck?’

  Danny roared with laughter, ‘I’ll snap yours for you.’

  Eddie swung first catching him on the jaw, he didn’t flinch. He came back with a jab to the chin and a swinging boulder to the gut. Eddie doubled over and fell to his knees. Danny was about to land a rib breaker of a kick when Laura leapt from the car.

  ‘Leave him alone,’ she snarled.

  Danny looked at her, she was trembling but tried to hide it. ‘You look like a girl who likes a bit of rough. You can come with us.’

  ‘Leave her alone,’ hissed Eddie between laboured breaths.

  ‘What are you going to do, runt.’

  ‘Me, nothing but Psycho won’t be too happy if he has to go looking for you, it’s his sister in law.’

  ‘C’mon boss lets go,’ said one of the other knuckle draggers. In truth he knew Eddie’s brother and while the country had gone to shit and it was unlikely that they would ever see him again, he didn’t want to take the chance.

  ‘You must be desperate if you’re fucking him,’ he said to Laura. He kicked Eddie as he turned away, it didn’t break anything but it stung.

  Laura went to help Eddie up, ‘Get off me,’ he snarled pushing her hand away.

  ‘You ungrateful bastard,’ she snarled back. ‘I should’ve let him kick the shit out of you.’

  As much as Eddie’s gut was aching his pride was hurting more. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said taking her hand.

  ‘That’s better, who is that prick?’

  Before he could answer Danny turned. ‘If you see your brother be sure to mention our little discussion and if he doesn’t show up for you feel free to come over to Mr Flowers’ place – we could do with a tea boy.’ The rest laughed. They all boarded the wagon and sped off. He had no idea The Makin’s were on Harry’s wanted list.

  ‘C’mon, said Eddie.’ Let’s get to Wayne’s.’

  *

  Eddie took it easy on the roads. Carnage everywhere. Dead bodies walking, crawling and worst of all – eating. They could see where the wagon had been, devastation at every corner. What they didn’t know – it wasn’t the only one on the road causing mayhem. Mr Flowers, Harry to most, H to his friends was taking control of the area. Some would say that he already controlled it but now in the wake of an apocalypse he had elected himself as the governing force. Bull was loyal to H. Six crews were patrolling, pillaging and murdering. They had modified the refuse wagons into urban harvesters that cut through the dead. All power and blades, one of Harry’s better ideas. Eddie would be staying as far away as possible.

  They turned into Oxford Street and rolled past a primary school. A lone teacher stood in the middle of the playground dead to the world but still at work. Wayne and Claire lived next door to the school. Opposite was a large park that the school used for activities. A few of the dead stumbled about. Eddie pulled the car into the kerb, he got out and slung his bag across his shoulders, his metal bar ready for action. Laura climbed out and followed him.

  He eased the gate open slowly and moved to the door; it was locked. He reached into a hanging flower basket and pulled out a key. ‘You’re kidding
me, people still do that?’ Said Laura.

  ‘It’s a respectable area, well it was until yesterday.’

  He pushed the key into the lock and turned, the door opened a crack - he pushed further. The cat screeched out of the door. He jumped, as the cat sprang and Laura nearly passed out.

  ‘That can’t be good,’ said Laura. ‘I’ve never seen a cat that frightened, they’re normally fearless and vicious.’ The cat was still moving at speed over the fence and across the park.

  He pushed the door further and stepped in, he raised the metal bar. ‘Shit,’ he said.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Asked Laura.

  ‘The baby,’

  ‘What baby?’

  ‘They have a daughter,’ he said.

  Laura was not maternal in the slightest but she felt a surge in her stomach at what might lay ahead.

  As they crossed the doorway to the lounge, they heard a creak from upstairs. They looked at each other. Eddie was about to call out but Laura silenced him. She motioned for him to go up the stairs first. He was reluctant and needed prompting. Three stairs from the top the old wood creaked, they froze. Nothing, they continued.

  Clair was standing in her bedroom; blood had soiled her nightie. Eddie had been wrong, Clair opened her arms and welcomed him. Behind them Wayne emerged from another room, he was also glad to see them.

  Chapter Seventy

  Chester, River Dee.

  Becky, Ethan and Skye sat nervously huddled together on the bed of the houseboat. They could feel the wind rocking the boat while the howl of the brewing storm frightened Ethan.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Skye. ‘Derek will be back soon.’

  ‘I wish you would call him dad,’ said Becky.

  ‘Why?’ Replied Skye innocently.

  ‘Because Derek is now part of our family and has been for several months,’ said Becky.

  He’s not our real dad, we have one of those,’ she responded.

  ‘I don’t like him, Derek I mean,’ said Ethan.

  ‘Me neither,’ said Skye.