by RR Haywood
‘Hey,’ she says softly, ‘come on, I’m sorry okay. I shouldn’t have asked so harshly.’
‘Okay,’ I shrug and blink as the strand holding the hanging eye snaps and the ball plops down onto the wet floor to roll away. Red and bloodshot and without thinking I bend down and pick it up to stare hard. ‘Yours aren’t that bad anymore,’ I look from the disconnected eye to Marcy’s eyes.
‘No?’ She says leaning over to look at the eyeball.
‘Not as bad as this one anyway.’
‘I can’t see my own eyes.’
‘True, take my word for it…or I’ll keep it so you can compare…okay I won’t keep it then.’
‘Don’t keep it.’
‘I’m not. I’ve put it down. Right, let’s go.’
We head back down and out into the now very unpleasant sensation of the driving rain. Head down we move fast back to the Saxon and quickly check the back before getting round and up into the front.
The rifles are both dry so I swap for fresh magazines and place them close at hand. The pistol I leave in Marcy’s holster for Dave or Clarence to check later. That stops me in my tracks. An assumption that we will see them later. Not if we see them later but when. That feeling. Deep inside. A tangible thing that is separate to my own feelings but as soon as I try and focus on it the feeling fades away.
‘You okay?’ Marcy twists from the front passenger seat.
‘Huh? Yeah…yeah fine,’ I clamber over back into the front and start the engine. They’re alive. I don’t how I know but I do.
‘Which way?’
‘Fuck knows,’ I move off and head down the only road available which leads towards the village. Clothes soaking and I shift uncomfortably from the squelching material clinging to my skin.
Following the road we head into a shute with high trees touching overhead and the rhythm of the rain changes again as the water pours from the branches and leaves. Water everywhere and lying deep across the surface of the road.
Through the village and we scout round looking for signs but see nothing. There could be trample marks in the verges or grass but the rain hides any signs of recent passage.
Then we see the bodies and my heart swells. Clear gunshot wounds from a firing position of a fallen tree. We stay silent, scanning the view ahead and to the sides into the depths of the trees while the Saxon bumps easily over the corpses strewn in the road. We have to go round the branches end of the downed tree and let the weight and force of the vehicle bust through the mostly dead wood.
More houses, rows of cottages so like the ones back in the square then a junction with a narrow road leading off. I stay on the main road ahead going steady but not fast. A long country lane but then all of these roads are long country lanes.
‘Howie,’ Marcy spots the two big stone pillars through the squalling rain.
‘Finkton…what does that say?’ I wipe the condensation from the driver’s window.
‘Sports Academy,’ she reads over my shoulder.
I roll forward and steer in towards the wide gap between the pillars and the sea of dead bodies coming into view, ‘I think we’ve found them,’ I say quietly then floor the accelerator as that same sensation sends a harsh jolt through my insides. In there. In that house that looms from the rain. A horde fighting to get inside the entrance doors. Over dead bodies we drive with increasing speed and I slew the vehicle round to a stop and I’m out the door with axe in hand without conscious thought.
‘BEHIND YOU,’ I run into the fray with a glimpse of the team inside being beaten back by these filthy dirty bastards and the thing I longed for happens now. Into that zone and the axe becomes a part of my body. They slow down to become painfully sluggish. I promised the team a day off. I promised them a meal and a rest and another day has been spent running from the hatred they have for us. That single fact becomes the focus point for a rage that has the axe sweeping them away. I batter them down at the door and clear the way through. A girl with red hair falling to the floor. Bulky clothing like an ice hockey player and the axe removes the head of the one bearing down to bite. An old woman lunging next and the axe is still on the upswing so I boot the fetid bitch aside and glance down to see a pair of brown eyes staring up wide and terrified.
‘GET HER UP,’ I shout back for Marcy behind me and roar my challenge into the room with a wild swing that drives them back from the fallen girl.
The team rallies and we fight. Dave smiling. Blowers leaping from the stairs to get next to Cookey and they go at it. We all do. Meredith next to Nick. Mo Mo slicing them down. Roy and Paula and another girl dressed in hockey gear. Clarence goes berserk with an explosion of temper and then Dave is at my side and we speed up, we get fast. Faster than ever before. He smiles and I smile back. Kill for kill we become a thing that cannot be stopped and every step I take is the step I needed to take. Every swing is correct with the right amount of force applied. They wilt and drop back but the infection pushes them on and then it’s over.
I’m facing back towards the team when I see Meredith’s head drop as she fixes sight on something behind me. I turn. One single adult male remains and as we did with Lani, so the dog gets to my side as we stalk towards it but the lust for kills is too high so I move quick to grab the thing by the throat before Meredith can do it.
‘He is coming,’ the infection spits the words out while I choke the air from the host’s throat.
‘Bring him,’ I pull him in closer and stare into the red eyes to the thing within.
‘One race…’
‘MY RACE,’ I scream back, ‘and we win this day,’ then I fling him down for the dog to eat and show the infection what teeth can really do.
Twenty-Seven
‘So,’ I turn round and ask cheerily, ‘nice day off?’
‘Did it have a folding stock?’
‘Did what have a folding stock?’
‘No it’s a bloody awful day off.’
‘Noted, Clarence.’
‘Hey, Marcy.’
‘Hey, Clarence. Reginald still with you?’
‘Up here.’
‘You can come down now, Reggie.’
‘I’m not going down there! My legs hurt and my feet are wet and I am simply strained to the point of exhaustion.’
‘Did it have a folding stock?’
‘What? What’s a folding stock?’
‘It’s been a really bad day off.’
‘Noted, Clarence.’
‘Was it an M4 with a folding stock?’
‘I don’t know what that is.’
‘I think Paula and Roy had a nice day off.’
‘Alex!’
‘Sorry, Paula.’
‘Did you all get something to eat?’
‘We did but then we puked it back up and Meredith ate Blowers’ puke.’
‘Nice, Cookey…who cooked for you lot?’
‘I did.’
‘Not surprised he puked up then.’
‘The worst day off in years.’
‘Still noted, Clarence.’
‘M4 with a fold…’
‘Dave, what’s an M4?’
‘American military issue assault rifle but that one had a folding stock.’
‘What one had a folding stock?’
‘That one.’
‘What one?’
‘The one with the folding stock.’
‘What’s a folding a stock?’
‘A stock that folds.’
‘Of course it is.’
‘We heard firing and we both,’ Clarence shoots Dave a dark look, ‘worked out it was an M4.’
‘With a folding stock.’
‘Oh the bloke on the horse.’
‘Horse?’ Paula asks.
‘What horse?’ Clarence asks.
‘The bloke that had the other gun.’
‘With a folding stock.’
‘I don’t know if it had a folding stock.’
‘It did.’
‘Okay, but I didn’t see the stock
folding or unfolding.’
‘How big was it?’
‘I dunno,’ I shrug, ‘like huge…’ I hold my hand over my head, ‘up here somewhere.’
‘The M4 not the horse.’
‘I didn’t see, I was busy getting Jimmy Carr’s shit off my chin.’
‘You did that later,’ Marcy says, ‘and only when I pointed it out.’
‘Whoa!’ Cookey holds a hand out, ‘Jimmy Carr?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Jimmy Carr shit on your chin?’
‘Yeah.’
‘The comedian Jimmy Carr shit on your chin?’
‘Allegedly.’
‘Yes,’ I say with a look at Marcy, ‘and he was naked.’
‘Whoa!’ Cookey holds his hand back out, ‘Jimmy Carr was naked and shit on your chin?’
‘Moving on,’ Paula sighs, ‘what happened?’
‘Well,’ I say with a nod, ‘I was outside and Jimmy Carr was naked and running at me then I got pulled to the ground and…’
‘I mean today not with Jimmy Carr.’
‘Oh. Sorry. Er…lots of zombies came and we all ran away and er…oh we had some food…and there was a bloke on a horse.’
‘With an M4,’ Dave says.
‘With an M4,’ I say to Paula, ‘that may or may not have had a folding stock.’
‘Oh my god,’ Paula shakes her head, ‘Marcy, fancy a coffee?’
‘Yes, yes I would,’ Marcy replies heavily.
I interrupt before they can move off, ‘not here, we’ve still got infected out there somewhere. We gave them the slip but they’ll know we’re here. Everyone get fresh magazines and hand weapons. Do it now and be ready to go.’
I spot the looks of uncertainty pass between the two girls and move over closer to them with Marcy at my side and I’m thankful Paula and Clarence have the presence of mind to stay with us.
‘This is Mr Howie,’ Paula says with a nod at me, ‘this is Charlie and er…Blinky?’
‘Yes,’ the blinking girl says abruptly.
‘Under 21’s England hockey team,’ Paula adds.
‘Wow,’ I say with genuine admiration, ‘Howie, nice to meet you both. Charlie?’ I hold my hand out to the mixed race girl, pretty with long brown hair and hazel eyes. She’s tall and swamped in the bulky hockey goalie clothes.
‘Hi,’ she greets me with a strong confident voice trying to mask the utter terror they just faced but there’s no trembling when we shake hands.
‘Hi, er…Blinky?’ I switch to the next girl. Red haired with a blaze of freckles across her nose, shorter than Charlie but her frame looks bigger.
‘I blink,’ she says abruptly, ‘a lot.’
‘Right,’ I nod as Clarence coughs into his hand and glances away.
‘It’s not nerves,’ she says in that same tone of rushing the words out, ‘the therapist said it was aggression that manifests in blinking when I’m not playing…’
‘Okay.’
‘I don’t do it when I play.’
‘Blink you mean?’
‘Yes. I don’t blink when I play. Hockey. Play hockey.’
‘Right…’
‘And I puke after most games but it’s not cos I’m scared but cos I get so worked up and…’
‘I see.’
‘I’m aggressive.’
‘Aggressive,’ I say back, more at a loss of what else to say, ‘er…this is Marcy and…’
‘I’m Paula,’ Paula says then looks at me, ‘we only just arrived before they did,’ she motions to the bodies on the floor, ‘the lads we’re here before us.’
‘The lads?’ I ask with a lift of my eyebrows, ‘in here? With a ladies hockey team? Christ, I bet they thought this was the best day ever.’
‘We’re they polite?’ Clarence asks.
‘Very,’ Charlie says looking up at him, ‘we hid…they came in and got water then left.’
‘Left? How did you all end up fighting together then?’ I ask.
‘The er…those things came when they were leaving…we thought they’d run off but er…’ she shoots a look at Blinky, ‘but they said they couldn’t let them attack the people in the house but,’ she stops to sweep her hair from her face, ‘but they hadn’t seen us and didn’t know who was in here…I…I mean we think they smelled the bread we were cooking and…’
‘They said anyone nice enough to make bread is nice enough to fight for,’ Blinky says.
‘Words to that effect,’ Charlie carries on as I lean closer to listen. All of us in rapt attention. ‘There was only four of them…and the dog…and they only had a few bullets but…they stood there calm as day and faced them down,’ she pauses for a second and I swallow the lump of pride in my throat and glance at the strange look on Clarence’s face, ‘there were so many,’ she stares at me unblinking in the memory, ‘four…just four,’ she whispers as though to herself, ‘and…then,’ she lifts her head higher, ‘and then their guns ran out of bullets and they stood up and they charged, Mr Howie. They ran at them with knives…’
Tears stream down Paula’s face. Clarence looking choked and I feel my own breath quavering with emotion at the visual image created. Even Marcy looks down with a heavy sigh.
‘So yes, yes they were polite,’ Charlie says to Clarence then looks back at me, ‘and that’s when we went out to help them.’
‘Mr Howie, Dave sent us back in to get some wat…’ Blowers leads the three lads back inside, dodging bodies and they stop dead at the stares being given, ‘what?’ Blowers asks.
‘I didn’t do it,’ Cookey says quickly, ‘it was Nick,’ he adds pointing at Nick.
‘It was Mo Mo,’ Nick points to Mo.
‘Wasn’t me,’ Mo Mo says.
‘I thought they trapped you here,’ Clarence says in a hoarse whisper, ‘you went out against them?’
‘Yeah,’ Blowers says quietly.
‘Seemed the right thing to do,’ Nick adds.
‘The four of you went against them?’ Clarence asks again, ‘how many magazines did you have left?’
‘One each,’ Blowers answers, ‘and we had Meredith,’ he looks down and away at the intense scrutiny, ‘we couldn’t…’
‘…Let them get in here,’ Cookey finished the sentence, ‘we all decided…Blowers didn’t order us to…’
‘Not angry,’ I say thickly.
‘Thank fuck for that,’ Nick mutters with relief.
Words cannot do justice to the swell of pride I feel and anything said by me now would be trite and serve an injustice to what they just did.
‘Christ,’ Clarence growls the word out and crosses the ground in two big strides before scooping all four shocked lads into an uncomfortable bear hug. A big man with a big heart and the pride shines from the tears in his eyes.
When he releases he turns quickly away and heads out into the pouring rain without saying a word.
The surprise at being hugged by Clarence only continues when Paula moves to Blowers and kisses him gently on the cheek. Next to Cookey and she grips his face between her hands as though examining his eyes, ‘you little sod,’ she half laughs and half cries, ‘I can’t leave you lot.’ She moves to Nick and pulls him in for a hug, ‘you’re incredible, all of you,’ she finishes with Mo Mo, ‘and you,’ she says softly with a kiss to his forehead like a mother to son, ‘all of you,’ she whispers and draws a deep steadying breath ‘…I’ll be outside.’
Blowers shuffles with a deep blush spreading through his cheeks. Cookey grinning at the attention. Nick looking slightly perplexed while Mo Mo looks stunned to the core.
‘Marcy?’ Cookey asks with a cheeky grin, ‘aren’t you hugging us too?’
‘Sods,’ she laughs and grabs him for a hug, ‘that better?’
‘Yeah,’ Cookey sighs theatrically in the warm embrace.
‘You did well,’ I nod at Blowers and the simple words are enough to lift him inches from the ground.
‘Cheers,’ he half grunts, ‘we’ll get the water then?’
�
�Yeah, yeah do that.’
‘Are they coming with us, Mr Howie?’ Cookey asks as they traipse past.
‘We’re getting to that bit,’ I reply and look back at the two girls, ‘we can’t stay here, the…those things know we’re here and will send more so…’
‘How will they know?’ Charlie asks.
‘Hive mind,’ Marcy replies, ‘they are all connected to each other. What one sees they all see.’
Blinky blinks and stares after the boys heading through the doors, ‘can I go with them please?’
‘Er, yeah sure,’ I reply.
‘Thanks, Mr Howie,’ she runs off behind them, ‘we’ve got bread you can eat!’ She calls out.
‘Blinky!’ Charlie calls, ‘we’ve got to decide what we’re…’
‘You’re the captain you decide,’ she shouts back then disappears through the doors.
‘Captain?’ I ask.
‘I was going to be trialled as the team captain,’ Charlie says.
‘Bloody hell, so…listen I’m sorry to rush you but staying here isn’t safe. You should come with us. Is it just the two of you?’
‘We had more,’ she says, her eyes flick past me to the bodies on the ground and I don’t need to turn and see what she’s looking at, ‘just the two of us now…Blinky and I.’
‘Come with us,’ Marcy says softly, ‘I know we all probably look very strange but you’ll be safe with us, I promise.’
It strikes me then that the girl doesn't stare at Marcy’s eyes. I glance over and can see they don’t really look any worse than Paula’s a minute ago, like she’s been crying recently or they’ve been irritated by something.
‘Safe? I hardly think that is the correct way of…’
‘Reggie, go outside with the others,’ Marcy says gently without turning to look at him trudging mournfully down the stairs and staring at the bodies with distaste.
‘Charlie?’ I ask, ‘we really need to be gone from here.’
‘We’ll come,’ she says quickly, ‘can I tell Blinky and get changed?’
‘Sure,’ I reply, ‘just be quick.’
‘Get the lads,’ Marcy says, ‘I’ll stay with the girls.’
A fluid interchange of suggestion and counter suggestion. Marcy, a member of the team as much as any other now and she follows Charlie through the doors with the assault rifle slung over her shoulder.
