Z: UK (A Zombie Novel)

by David Whaley

  Leon and Natalie scoured the room, beneath and behind the solid workstations, each taking one of the two adjoining rooms before eventually shouting, “clear,” to one another.

  “My room looks like a storage room,” said Natalie. “There’s an evidential conta-. Yes this is the box I labelled when I found the-. Wait… It’s empty.”

  “What does that mean?” said Marcus.

  “Nothing, they probably have it out somewhere.”

  Despite their search, which didn’t take long, they couldn’t find the substance anywhere. However, they did find a docket that was labelled describing the substance and the address in which it was found in along with the date of the finding and Natalie’s details as the exhibiting officer.

  The heading of the grey docket was simple, ‘results’.

  Their hearts sunk as they opened it to find a treasury tag poked through both hole punched holes front and back holding only small fragments of paper less than that of a finger nail.

  “Fuck sake,” said Natalie.

  “Somebody didn’t want these documents to be found,” said Leon

  “Well, now we need to find out who.”

  Natalie marched out of the lab and headed for the stairs where Marcus and Devlin followed. Leon had a cursory search in the records room before proceeding to the next floor having found nothing of note, though, he was only looking for a member of the undead.

  The second floor had more offices, more blood and more paperwork but no lights whatsoever.

  Leon and Natalie drew their firearms once again coupled with a torch each that was attached to their utility belts, illuminating a beam cutting through the darkness revealing said mess.

  Again, no Zombies were present, yet a faint and familiar moan could be heard in the distance.

  This sound increased the closer they got to the source reacting directly to their approach. It was discovered that the sound was coming from one of the lifts evidently stuck shut on that floor sounding as though at least three were trapped each clawing at the door apparently able to smell them through the thick metal.

  They entered the largest of the offices and ensured it was clear of the enemy.

  There, plastered on one wall were photos of higher ranking members of management, with their names printed underneath each, laid out in a way top to bottom that identified a kind of food chain. In this case a management chain.

  Near to the top of the food chain was a face known, but only to Natalie, the name below reading Derek Claridge.

  “That’s the bloke from the DVD that was sent to the Prime Minister,” said Natalie. “He is the one that claimed responsibility for the attack from, The British Equivelent. I doubt he knew the capabilities that this ‘little’ virus of his had.”

  “He must be on the top floor,” said Leon.

  Below his name, the role he performed was also present: Head Researcher and Analyst.

  Marcus hesitated but was ushered forward by Devlin. Something was telling him not to proceed for fear of what would be found.

  Nothing was found and the group headed up the final two flights of stairs to the top floor that, besides the blood, was relatively tidy with fully working lights.

  Three of the four were focused on finding the office belonging to the terrorist that Natalie still had trouble believing had a contract with the police as an external agency working in partnership.

  This feat was not that difficult considering there were name plates on every door in which they followed until they arrived at the correct door finding it was open slightly.

  Again, and they hoped the final time, the armed duo drew arms and Leon reused his right boot to force the door to open wider, not necessary but it added dramatic effect with the bonus of startling anyone inside. That is, if the occupants didn’t happen to be Zombies.

  A loud bang was the result of Leon’s actions and both he and Natalie entered the small well-presented office. Only one thing was out of view; the front of the swivel chair behind the desk. A single arm was slumped over the right hand arm rest with skin that looked as if decomposition was just setting in and eating away at the tissue.

  However, as they couldn’t see the person, alive, dead or undead on the other side, they couldn’t be certain that they didn’t pose a threat.

  “Armed police, do as we say,” Natalie said as she started to shuffle towards the desk, one foot at a time.

  “Derek Claridge?” said Leon assertively assuming he was the person that sat in the chair. “We won’t tell you again.”

  Natalie had reached the chair within arms length and pulled it. The chair span slowly to face them as its occupant’s feet dragged along the floor.

  It was Derek, although not as they had expected.

  Derek Claridge was dead; his head lay lazily back and a gun in the hand they previously couldn’t see. His face was a mess caused by the single bullet he had fired at close range, burn marks around the entry wound with parts that had simply fallen off.

  Leon spat at the dead terrorist.

  “As I said, he couldn’t take what he had created of the world,” said Natalie.

  “There’s a note,” said Leon picking up two sheets of paper and starting to read the covering letter out aloud as everyone gathered around.

  “I, Derek William Claridge, having the fear of death before me and being without hope of recovery make the following statement.”

  “He had time to ensure correct use of grammar,” said Marcus. “Who cares what he has to say? He is nothing but a dirty terrorist.”

  “Sshhh,” said Natalie. “It might help. In the DVD he said there was an antidote.”

  “I will be taking my own life and in that I trust that whoever is reading this will be best pleased. I am sorry for causing our fine island the misery, pain and death that is now roaming. ‘Fine island’ is not a term that I thought would part my lips. It has taken this apocalypse for me to realise that. I deserve judgement and that is exactly what I will be seeking in the afterlife and I expect nothing more than to be cast beneath our Cavernous Rock into a pit of flames. Nonetheless, you’ll have probably skim read to this point anyhow. There isn’t an antidote, or at least none that I know about. It was a sense of false hope I provided to get attention. However, I did not know that this virus would be so severe. I did not work alone either. Below this page is a list of people that I presume are all dead by the very nature of their work for me. They incorporated the virus strain into ventilation systems across the UK on my instruction and are written on the very page I used when selecting the team. I won’t waste anymore of your time. God bless.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere.” said Devlin.

  On the second sheet of paper there were many names, mostly scribbled out, but at the bottom was what looked like the selected final five.

  Leon then started reading the list of names and what appeared to be their code names:

  “Delta 1- Francis Princin.

  Delta 2- Mark Shaolter.

  Delta 3- Florence Songhurst.

  Delta 4- Marcus Coombes-“

  There was a Delta 5 but the group looked up for an explanation from Marcus. However, this proved difficult. Marcus was gone.

  Chapter 16

  “That’s it!” cried Natalie.

  “Son of a bitch!” exclaimed Devlin.

  “…,” from Leon.

  The trio stood in silence, Natalie’s blood starting to boil, her head bowed down as she gathered her thoughts.

  “Positive action,” she said with her head still fixated towards the floor.

  “Excuse me?” asked Devlin.

  “Doesn’t that only apply to domestics?” said Leon.

  “Why should we put our hopes into people we think we know… trust… love… Time we take back Lakeford Police Station, I think. Leon, you want to kill them, right?” she looked up.

  “Damn right.”

  “Well I suggest that wherever we go in my attempt to find a cure, we take out as many of those ungodly things
as we can. Devlin, you want to get back out of Britain, or at least away from what’s left of it.”

  “Nothing’s gonna keep me here.”

  “Then, if you continue to help us we will find our way to an airport soon but I can’t do this alone. Nor can I do this with Leon’s help alone.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll help. I owe you that much.”

  “If we run into Marcus again, leave him to me. I have some questions that need answering.”

  They began the descent back to their BMW, passing the lift with the undead still trapped and moaning and down the stairs passing the darkened floor. As they neared the ground they were reminded of the devastation by the gust of wind forcing them to adjust their stance to remain upright. However, they made it outside unscathed.

  “Thank God for the spare wheel and that I took the car keys with me or we may not have had a car to come back to,” said Leon indicating with a straightened finger to the rear offside tyre that had their spoiler weapon firmly embedded into it.

  They worked together to make their vehicle road worthy once more and drove back towards Lakeford by taking the same route they had used to arrive.

  Overhead, something roared with such force that it shook the ground causing a minor tremor and soon after a UFO, to all except Leon, flew past well below its expected normal altitude.

  Leon, who knew a bit about military aircraft only through personal interest, recognised it, despite its speed, as belonging to the American Air Force distinguished by its darker camouflaging and fuel tanks set against the fuselage thus reducing drag. It was an F-15E Strike Eagle designed for air to ground combat unlike its predecessor the F-15 that was solely, and brilliantly, suited to air to air conflicts. This aircraft had everything but a possibility that it would soon be replaced by the F-35E Lightning, similar to the United Kingdoms preferred choice of fighter jet.

  “I wonder who they are,” said Natalie talking to nobody except herself.

  “They are the American Air Force,” replied Leon as another F-15E flew overhead at the same, or a similar, altitude.

  “Does that mean we have finally gained help from the rest of the world?”

  “I don’t know but at that height they’ve got to be conducting reconnaissance work.”

  “Who’s orders? The presidents?”

  “Most likely. They could be patrolling the borders also to ensure this outbreak stays contained. They must have seen us, yet they are continuing without looking back. I very much doubt they have any ground units assigned to radio in.”

  “So what? They just gonna leave us here to die and rot with the rest of them?” said an angry Devlin.

  “We could be infected, beyond saving. They can’t take that risk of removing us from the UK or in providing medical help and infecting one of their own.”

  “This is bullshit.”

  “You’re right, but we would do the same to America no matter how close we are as ‘allies.’”

  They crossed the Thames again as another two jets flew by and Leon hurried the vehicle back toward the church to draw up a game plan. The purpose of this was for the take back of Lakeford police station, soon to arrive with a larger than normal herd of zombies walking around outside as well as entering and exiting the old wooden church doors. These, however, appeared to be of the walking variety.

  “Good job we didn’t intend to stay here long. That rules this place out. Let’s find a quiet spot to put our plan together.”

  Natalie and Devlin agreed and drove a few miles further down the road to find an alley, just wide enough for the BMW X5, that perhaps was once used as an access point for local business on the adjoining roads, this alley leading to the rear of those premises.

  The ground was cobbled with no street lighting and they all acknowledged the fact that it wouldn’t be a safe place to remain after dark.

  “Why is it infected with those fuckers now?” asked Leon referring to the church, as he applied the handbrake.

  “Wouldn’t surprise me if Marcus had something to do with it,” said Devlin.

  “That’s providing he sorted himself out some transport otherwise he would never have made it there before us.”

  Natalie grew inpatient with her newly established positive action attitude. This was evident through her body language, the fidgeting in her seat and rubbing of her sweaty hands.

  “Let’s focus ahead,” she said. “So how are we going to do this?”

  “Well, in terms of protection I have some level 2 gear in the back, except the public order helmets, they were too big,” said Leon.

  The level 2 public order uniform issued to police, often dubbed as ‘riot gear,’ that are issued to specially trained officers by completing various scenarios that includes having petrol bombs thrown at them, consists of: black overalls, arm guards, leg guards including shin pads, balaclava and cut resistant padded gloves. The gloves increase the thickness of the wearers’ fingers rendering it difficult, but not impossible to squeeze the trigger of a firearm.

  “I don’t have any shields either but this should protect us better than we are now. We must also wear our vests and I have a spare one for you Dev.”

  “We all need a gun though,” said Natalie.

  “Agreed. It was quicker than we expected but we are being forced to trust you. Take this.”

  Devlin reached out his hand accepting Leon’s side arm from him, a smile on his face like a writer in the stationary aisle.

  “Don’t let us down.”

  “I won’t, I only want to help.”

  “Natalie, we will be using the MP5 Carbines. You’re familiar with the fact that they are single shot right?”

  “I am.”

  The MP5’s were made single shot to increase accuracy whilst maximising damage and decreasing devastation that would come from a spray of bullets.

  “Okay, last time I was at the police station it was overtaken by the undead and I got to witness the ‘change’ of my skipper,” said Natalie. “Anyhow, the gates were stuck open, probably as a result of Zombies walking in and out and messing up the sensors, but there is a manual override just inside the yard. You two provide cover and I will get the gates closed. That should stop anything adding to our problem.”

  “Equally, that means no turning back I’m assuming,” enquired Devlin.

  “Exactly right. Within the grounds, we will kill everything dead. If my warrant card doesn’t work when I swipe it then we can go through custody to gain entry.”

  “We clear every room, from the locker rooms to the borough commanders office,” added Leon.

  With all three of them having ironed out the creases of their plan, which essentially was simply to secure and kill, they suited up in their level 2 clothing, including Devlin.

  It was not a quick change and they all assisted each other in fastening the guards, the shoulder guard causing the most issues.

  Leon then gave Devlin a crash course in the ‘point and shoot’ technique including the old saying, ‘you don’t pull the trigger, you squeeze it.’ Devlin was a fast learner which gave Leon doubt about letting him carry a firearm but he had little choice.

  With them fully kitted up, and the saw dust provided by Buster put into the transmission thus quieting the engine, they made for Lakeford police station only a five mile drive away.

  The gates were still open, as had been assumed, and Leon rushed their vehicle through running a group of Zombies over who were oblivious of their approach.

  They all decamped and Devlin shot each of the crippled Zombies in the head, still crawling about, for target practice.

  “Cover me,” ordered Natalie rushing over to a small hut to the side of the gates, shooting the padlock allowing her access.

  Natalie had a quick glance around the once familiar yard and could see that there were many more of the undead then there had been on her previous visit.

  Not a car had moved, the hi-viz jacket still fluttering about the yard no longer covering up a dead body as was her intende
d use for it.

  Leon raised his MP5, aiming down the holographic sight, sighting one of the many Zombies approaching. Devlin had the Glock in one hand that he steadied with the other.

  They aimed first for the ‘runners,’ deciding that they could pick of the ‘walkers’ at a later stage.

  The undead fast approached, most likely notified of their presence by Devlin’s practice shots.

  Leon let off the first round, well aimed, dropping its’ target whilst Devlin, however, missed the first two shots whilst the third planted.

  As first thought, the gloves proved some difficulty but once they wedged their finger into the trigger they didn’t plan on removing it anytime soon with the enemy relentless in their approach.

  “Almost there,” shouted Natalie although it fell upon deaf ears as her companions were too focused ahead of them at the terror they faced.

  She fumbled at the motor and finally unhooked it from the clip that was designed to release when a car enters or exits, allowing the gates to open and close.

  They started closing just as some running Zombies came towards the gate but, luckily, only one made it through leaving its friends trapped outside.

  Natalie shot it dead in the head.

  By the time Natalie rejoined her comrades there were only the ‘walkers’ remaining and they picked them off slowly in order to conserve their ammunition.

  As each zombie fell they shuffled forward, inch by inch, until they had killed all of them and were standing by one of the doors into the building with the warrant card swipe entry system. Next to these doors was the custody cage that allowed instant access, however, they couldn’t see through the custody closed door unlike this one. It was clear glass with a view into the foyer.

  “There’s none of them,” she said pulling out her warrant card and giving it a swipe. It didn’t work. “Custody it is.”

  Natalie and Devlin turned to face the custody cage whilst Leon was immediately behind them aiming his MP5 in the opposite direction to pick off any stragglers that maybe hadn’t quite been killed right. The corpses all laid motionless.