We caught up with the dozen or so Groaners and put paid to them with the tractor bucket. I dreaded to think what sort of mess there would be on the road once the other vehicles had trundled over the bodies, but I was more concerned in case we met many more on the road because it seemed to be getting narrower all the time.
“Look, Frank.” Daisy pointed ahead. I saw what she was pointing at. Another narrow lane led off to the left and a signpost, originally white but now tinged green with algae where the sun never reached it under the trees pointed up the lane to Little Rollright.
“Take the turn,” I said.
“You don’t want to stop and check?”
“No, take the turn. Even if we can’t get there, it can’t be far now. Let’s just go and see what happens.”
I wound down the window, so I could see behind as we swung right. The Range Rover made the bend easily enough.
“Stop, Daisy. Just wait here a minute.”
The motorhome just managed to get around the turn with a couple of shunts back and forward. I was relieved when after even more shunting and ripping out some of the hedgerow, the lorry made it too.
“OK, let’s go again,” I said.
Ten minutes later, with the road widening slightly, we came to a junction. Another ageing sign pointed off to the village which seemed to be set back from the road according to the map, with no other way in or out. Another sign along the road we were on said the stones were three quarters of a mile away. I got Daisy to pull in to a farm gateway almost opposite the turn and jumped out.
Five minutes later the Range Rover, the motorhome and the lorry were backed up into the wide junction down to the village. This was the end of the road for them at least for now, but at least they were ready for a quick getaway when needed.
“Why are we stopping here?” Brian asked once he had jumped down from the lorry.
“We need to get to those stones,” I said, pointing up at the sign.
“We’ll be safe there,” Jim said. He and the girls were all out of the motorhome, looking excited and ready to go.
“We’re going across the fields here. It shouldn’t take long, they should be just over that rise,” I said, pointing vaguely in the direction I hoped the stones were in. “Trust me on this, Brian. We need to get there.” I fixed him with a look. After a few seconds, he nodded.
“OK, I’ll get my boys organised,” then he stepped forward until he was right in my face,” but when we get there, I want to know what’s going on.”
“You will, Brian, I promise,” I said. I could have added ‘as soon as I know’ but I didn’t think that would have helped move things along.
The walk up the field, sticking to the field edge, wasn’t too bad. Gianpreet had low heels on and was struggling the most but her dad and one of the soldiers was helping her along. Lucy and David walked side by side, neither of them saying very much. Daisy was helping Jules along and everyone else, Jim and the two girls included, were making steady progress.
It was only when we reached the top of the rise that we looked across the field to where the stones were situated that my heart dropped. The circular area where the stones were situated was completely full of Groaners and around the outside, they must have been forty or fifty deep. I thought something approaching a thousand in the small area we were heading for.
As I stood at the top of the rise, watching Jim and the girls heading straight for the mass of Groaners, I thought we might have bitten off a little more than we could chew here.
I was even more convinced of that when every single Groaner stood still, then slowly turned to look at the group of us standing by the side of a field.
They all took a synchronous foot forward, and I felt a serious situation develop in my bowel.
End of Episode Three.
I wish I had a great theme tune and five minutes of credits, but I don’t, so if you miss that, just whistle your favourite tune for a while and read my name. If not, just carry on with your day, with my thanks for reading.
Erik P Heller-Author
Note: In the tradition of the great Charles Dickens and many other authors, I have decided to publish this in easily digestible segments which will be published in the last week of each month starting with November 2018 with episodes 1-3. Thereafter there will be one full-length episode per month until my fingers fall off.
The full-length episodes (from episode 2 on) will be about 30,000 words or so which should give a regular reader a few commutes/baths/bedtimes of entertainment—or misery if you don’t like the story.
I hope you do enjoy the story and Frank’s weird journey. If you do and feel inclined to leave a review, I would be really grateful.
As a sad sack who believes that one day, I might actually earn a crust from writing—I might be wrong—a review or twenty makes a huge difference.
I don’t do mailing lists or the like, or for that matter social media so if you care about me in my lonely, draughty garret slaving by candlelight to produce the next episode, follow my author page on Amazon and prove it, and I hope you feel like buying/reading the next episodes where the fantasy elements will become more pronounced but still with plenty of Zombie action.
Thank you for reading this episode.
Episode 4 will be published some time around 14th December 2019
The One Percent (Episode 3): The One Percent Page 10
