by David Whaley
Leon fired a shot to the Zombies head whilst Devlin struck him in the same place twice when it went down to confirm it was truly dead, for the second time in its life; once when alive and the second when undead, this being the latter.
Leon aimed at the next nearest, Devlin still providing cover, and planted two quick successive bullets into each of its eye sockets. There were no eyes for them to pass through as they had already melted away, which stands to reason and question as to how it knew where they were?
Natalie and Marcus had prepared to help but before they got out, and as they had been looking ahead, they initially failed to notice the three Zombies that had appeared up the ramp behind them now walking past their car as they made progress towards Leon and Devlin’s rear.
Natalie lowered her front passenger window, lent out and squeezed her trigger firing three well placed bullets to their weakest points, one bullet each.
Leon quickly realised how close he had been to being ‘turned’ into one of them as he span around at the sound of Natalie’s shots in time to see a rotted hand, missing it’s thumb and index finger, fall from head height to the floor accompanied by the rest of it’s body.
Still approaching up the ramp behind were yet more Zombies and looking ahead they could see this was the case for the ramp leading up to the next floor, although it looked as though most had made it to their level.
“You two going to stop fucking around? This car will do more damage and quicker and to more of them at once,” said an outraged Natalie, adrenaline being pumped through her body as a result of Leon and Devlin’s close encounter.
They looked at each other and as if having a discussion via telepathy, they both returned to their seats quicker than they had got out.
Leon revved out of gear then slammed it into 1st, wheels spinning and keeping the vehicle stationary as they turned only for a moment before moving off and fast, a thud heard for every Zombie that came into contact with it that Marcus thought sounded quite melodious; thud… thud thud… thud…. thud thud thud…
There were a lot of thuds as they neared the vehicle ramp to floor six where Leon then went wide to turn into the ramp to maintain speed.
The sixth floor, had Zombies present but not nearly as many as the previous five, but especially the fifth, and they scanned the floor for any sign of the screaming female by her description.
Eventually, they saw her in the furthest corner, lying down in the foetal position, presumed as a natural defence through instinct.
“We have to be quick,” said Leon. “Clear these few ‘Z’s’ and tend to her. Keep a distance from the subject until we can be absolutely sure she is still… well… her.”
Everyone agreed and got out, except Marcus who was instructed to drive at a snails pace from their rear.
The trio on foot cleared the floor; Natalie taking the left with her Glock, Leon the same but on the right and Devlin in the middle with his 2x4.
It was soon clear and they all sidestepped towards each other until they met in the middle ten yards from the subject, none daring to take their eyes off her as she started to get to her feet.
They could see her only from behind but recognised her to be the one that had been screaming for help as she was wearing a distinctive yellow dress that had blood bleeding into the fabric, reaching around the back.
“Are you okay?” asked Natalie.
“Excuse me?” said Devlin
She twitched and turned slightly acknowledging their presence but not enough to see her face. This was hindered as the light above her head was one of the fluorescents that weren’t working.
“If you don’t answer, we will leave you here,” said Leon
Suddenly, she let out a familiar moan and turned before running at Leon.
Natalie fumbled with her weapon due to being taken by surprise thinking to herself, since when did they start running?
Chapter 12
Leon dropped his firearm onto the floor as a plank of wood entered his field of vision between him and the Zombie causing the rotting female to slam its face into the wood and stagger backwards.
Devlin, the owner of the wood, scooped up Leon’s Glock and fired a close range shot through the Zombie’s eye socket, the bullet exiting out the back of its skull sending maggots and dead brain matter spewing across the floor as she fell.
Behind them, many of the walking dead emerged up the ramp from the fifth floor in their masses. From ahead, two more running Zombies fast approached down the ramp that led to the next.
“Let’s get the fuck outta here!” said Devlin whilst handing Leon back his weapon. They were all in agreement.
With Marcus still driving, and the trio back on board, they sped down the ramp colliding with, what Leon would estimate, around three hundred of the undead that made for a bumpy ride.
Back on the street, Leon took over the steering wheel relegating Marcus to the back seat.
“We need to do something about our vehicle,” suggested Leon.
“I agree,” said Natalie her thoughts on par.
“What do you mean?” said Marcus.
“Yeah what about a nice Mercedes or a BMW saloon?” said Devlin, thinking in a way that was completely opposite to the two officers.
“Devlin,” said Natalie. “We mean to modify this car. It’s heavy and agile but has already suffered damage by those fuckers we hit. We need to improve its structural integrity or make it a more effective weapon.”
“Gotcha,” he replied.
“There’s a scrap yard a few miles from here,” said Marcus.
Marcus gave directions from the back seat and it was soon clear that he had underestimated what a ‘few miles’ actually meant. However, with the lack of traffic, they were making good progress.
Wide main roads turned into narrow single tracked ones as they neared the outskirts of London. The dash indicated they had already travelled ten miles.
Eventually, they ended up in Epping at a high fenced scrap yard that had been padlocked shut from the inside. A sign read: Auto Parts Scrap Yard. There were no signs of life, or death, amongst the piles of car parts strewn about within the large grounds.
“What now? It’s locked,” said Devlin stating the obvious.
“We shoot the padlock. I decided when all this started to save each and every bullet for one of those hellish demons… But this is necessary,” said Leon aiming his gun and firing a shot that broke the padlock causing it to fall to the floor with a clank.
Marcus removed the chains that were around the gates and pushed them open allowing Leon to drive into the yard.
As the gates were reclosed by Marcus they heard a sound coming from the small hut, presumably the office. It was the sound of a door opening which was confirmed when they looked over.
An older man emerged with a face showing no signs of rotting and the colour of life still present. In his hands he caressed, but firmly held, a .22 calibre pump action shotgun at waist height that he pointed in their direction.
“The hell are you doing on my land?” said the man. “You’re lucky I didn’t mistake you for one of those… things. I would have shot you where you stand if he hadn’t been driving. Now give me a reason why I shouldn’t shoot you anyway.”
Natalie advised the rest of the group to let her do the talking.
“Well?” said the man growing impatient. “What’s it gonna be?”
“We are only here to modify our car. Once we do that we will leave, you have our word,” said Natalie. “We can pay you.”
“Money is no use to me, or anyone,” said the man lowering the shotgun. “What d’ya mean modify?”
“We mean to ‘Zombie-proof.’”
“Well you might want to do something about the noise that thing makes. Far too loud and will probably attract them. I actually have an idea for something to help with that. It’s around here someplace. You’d better get started. I’m Buster Tirnum, thanks for askin’. I will check on you later,” said Buster returning to his shac
k.
The group stared at each other for a while somewhat surprised that they hadn’t been executed.
“What a weird bloke,” said Devlin.
“Some would say the same for you,” replied Marcus.
“You can’t blame him,” said Natalie. “Look at the situation we are in. He’s probably pissed off that we broke his padlock. I hope he has more.”
“Why didn’t you identify yourself?”
“As a police officer? Not everyone likes us and some would probably shoot as soon as they found out because they’d have nothing to lose. We had better get started.”
They went in different directions, to each of the four corners, their car parked in the centre.
Natalie located some paint to black out the headlights, thus reducing their visibility from the undead, and a windscreen with reinforced glass similar to that of their model BMW.
Leon had found a cast iron billet grille with slits angled downward to further protect the radiator and some ‘closed’ rims for the wheels to prevent Zombie bits getting into the brakes.
Meanwhile, Devlin headed for the stack of barbed and razor wire developing an idea. His idea utilised a large nearby sheet of aluminium to add strength and to create a bumper using the razor wire. The barbed wire would be attached to the doors.
Marcus was able to find some unused chain-link fencing with a view of attaching these to the windows. He also found a splintered old baseball bat and some nails that caused him to smile as his imagination ran wild.
Each individual member of the group brought the materials they found to their vehicle in the centre and collaborated on the ideas formed with what was available. They decided that each was possible as long as Buster was able to provide the tools. The collaboration concluded that even the windscreen could be made to fit with minimal, but some, alterations to the frame of the car at the current fitment.
“Buster?” said Leon knocking firmly on the door of the office. “Do you have any tools we could use?”
Buster emerged carrying a pair of carbide cutters for the aluminium sheets, a pair of bolt cutters for the chain-link fencing, a tub of nuts and bolts to connect the barbed wire to the doors and the razor wire to the bumper. He also had some steel wire rope to assist with its fixing. It was obvious that Buster had been watching them and selected a range of tools suitable for the job at hand.
“This should do ya,” he said.
Buster then dragged a bag of saw dust out from behind the door.
“You may want to take this,” he said. “If you put it in your oil it will improve oil pressure and viscosity whilst also making the car sound quieter. I wouldn’t recommend putting it in now because after a while you will have to change the oil. Just put it in if you need to get past too many of those bastards.”
“Thanks for the tip and the tools. Why don’t you join us? We have an extra seat.”
“Thanks, but no ta. I’m old enough to have no family left, not that it matters, and this place is all I’ve known since my father owned it. I’m staying.”
Leon nodded and decided against arguing with the old man as he sounded and looked confident, at peace with his decision. The thought of leaving was likely to have already crossed his mind at some point.
The group set to work; Devlin and Marcus worked on the front bumper whilst Leon and Natalie worked on the rear of the vehicle.
The bumper was strengthened with aluminium that Devlin cut to size with a curved bottom, the idea that it would act as a mini plough, set high enough to allow for the speed bumps scattered across London.
Marcus concentrated on the razor wire, fixing it to yet another strip of aluminium cut from the sheet using nuts, bolts and wrapping around the steel wire rope. They both then connected this to the bumper also.
Marcus then painted the headlights black with the tinting paint whilst Devlin replaced the grille with the new cast iron billet version.
Meanwhile, Leon removed all of the rear bulbs to reduce their visibility from the undead; the brakes, fog light, reverse and indicator lights.
Natalie affixed some nails to the baseball bat and was able to connect this to the roof using half of a roof rack that was lying nearby and a fire extinguisher collar.
They remained in teams of two and took a side of the vehicle each sharing use of the bolt cutters by passing them across the roof as they cut at the chain-link fencing. These were then attached to the side windows using more nuts and bolts with small pieces of aluminium at the fixing points to add stability.
Next, they concentrated on the barbed wire and fixed long multiple lines of the sharp material to the bodywork resulting in a few cuts to their hands and forearms where the razor wire caused none. Nuts and bolts were also used to attach this defence, placed at symmetrical intervals on each line both sides.
Each team were easily able to clip on the closed rims thus protecting the brakes before, last but not least, reuniting and working together to assess, measure and fit the reinforced windscreen with, as predicted, minimal adjustments made to the frame.
“Dunnit look ugly?” stated Devlin as they took a step back to admire their handy work.
“It’s a game of survival,” said Buster appearing from behind having overheard the last comment. “If anything’s to be sacrificed it’s gonna be looks. Never be frugal when it comes to defence and offence.”
“Fair enough,”
“Now if you don’t mind, I need to resecure my yard,” he said ushering out the only live customers he was likely to get for the foreseeable future.
They once again climbed into their vehicle, newly modified, and pulled away, the performance of the BMW consistent to how it was before except for the annoying rattling sound coming from the razor wire at the front bumper. A quick inspection once outside the yard found a bit of aluminium from the mini makeshift plough was bent a little too much and touching one of the coils from the wire as it bounced along. This was easily fixed manually.
Further up the road, they found two walking Zombies staggering across a zebra crossing. They had their backs to them and with Leon driving, he said, “Let’s test this baby out.”
Leon accelerated hard and with a screech of the tyres, fast approached the two undead that turned around in response.
Leon ploughed down the first Zombie, bits of flesh and ripped Zombie clothing were left hanging from the bumper barbs, its severed hand bouncing off of the closed wheel rims as planned.
The vehicle side swiped the second Zombie causing it to be dragged along the road attached by the barbs on the door but, with a few violent turns of the steering wheel, Leon was able to shake it free only to then reverse over its head giving no indication.
Chapter 13
“… Been found dead. Now, its time for another Zombie top tip number 17; Zombies have started running so how’s’ about you get yourself a weapon that impales, preferably a longer weapon to maintain distance, and let the ‘Z’s’ do all of the work for you. Hold your weapon still and pointed at the enemy and watch them maim themselves. Stupid Zombies. But remember, as per Zombie top tip number 1, aim for its head. Another Zombie top tip in a couple of hours and don’t forget that if you think of one, then phone in and share it with the rest of us. So far, since this all started, I haven’t received a single call, how would you like to be our first. Don’t email ‘coz it doesn’t work, just like television. So, for a sense of normality, as little as it may provide, stay with us here at The UK’s Biggest Zombie Conversation 97.3. I pray that you guys have DAB.”
Nobody knew the name of the radio host but it didn’t sound like any of the regular LBC presenters.
The only thing for certain was that he was a male and fairly well spoken in a voice that was almost melodious. His only aim was to calm and assist others as they struggled to survive.
Some could argue that if he really wanted to help then he should be out fighting with the various groups of vigilantes that have set up in pockets around London and, likely but unknown the rest of the
UK. He would argue that this was the best way to reach the greatest number of people, reminding them that there were others out there and providing, what he believed to be, important top tips.
In regards to the vigilantes, although they were acting without legal authority, many pardoned their existence seeing them as providing a ‘public service,’ also turning a blind eye to the fact that if they doubted you in the slightest as either being alive or infected, then you would be decapitated on the spot.
Aside from the vigilantes, dubbed as rouge police, there were other groups of individuals that chose to shy away from the fight and instead direct their aggression towards properties as they looted shops and burgled residencies.
This group were acting only to survive but by being reckless, and as some would suggest also selfish, they left others insecure in their own houses by providing open access to Zombies.
The final band of people generally did not belong to either group but instead were on the run being chased by ‘Z’s’ that had fully established themselves at the top of the food chain. They, of course, mainly lost due to their body giving in to fatigue despite the extra burst that had been facilitated by adrenaline, these effects not affecting their pursuers.
About half the street lights of London were out, some broken and some on a power circuit that had been cut but were compensated, and likely to have been partially caused, by blazing fires scattered about the streets.
The kindling for these fires were an array of materials; wood, furniture, small buildings mostly business premises and Zombies. These fires were believed to have been started by both the looters and the vigilantes.
But what caused these live people to leave the safety of their homes? Most surmised that they had all but ran out of supplies such as food and basic first aid equipment with others saying that they had simply had enough of sitting around doing nothing whilst waiting for the cavalry that they soon realised would never come.
Whatever their reason, despite the government previously having spoken about a broken society in Britain, there was truly no longer one big community and, ultimately, everyone was fending for themselves to survive; no second thoughts to throwing a friend into the path of a flesh eating Zombie.
