by David Whaley
“This is an opportunity for me to get my hands dirty and for us not to waste any more bullets,” said Leon holstering his firearm and picking up the microwave that wasn’t plugged in.
He stood directly ahead of the Zombie with his back against the opposite wall holding the cooking appliance in both hands near the front and at the and at the sides.
Devlin knew what was coming and, despite repeatedly being told off, he grew to like Leon more and more.
Leon ran forward at some pace, below full throttle, raising the microwave as he neared before forcing it against the Zombie’s head, his hands being in the optimum position to push it forward. He pausing holding it in place of the Zombie’s head.
“That microwave is actually flush against the wall,” Devlin laughed.
Leon just smiled before dropping the microwave, it hitting the jack rod. This caused it to flick out, the chiselled edge coming out of the Zombie’s neck.
Devlin and Leon ducked out the way of the infected blood and the lethal weapon that headed in their general direction coming to rest, embedded, in the opposite wall.
“Shot,” said Devlin as if Leon had just scored a goal.
“Thanks but we’d better go.”
They re-entered the shop area and Devlin selected two bottles of brandy whilst Leon took a handful of packs of cigarettes and they headed back to the car still parked in the garage.
“There’s something on the windscreen,” said Leon picking up the scrap of paper held in place by their windscreen wiper.
It read:
Unit 7, The Warehouse
Lakeford Industrial Park
Lakeford.
“It’s an address. We better get back and see Natalie.”
“Wait. It says something else on the back,” said Devlin pointing.
It read:
From A Friend.
Chapter 22
“So, you came back to the car to find this note,” said Natalie holding it up for everyone to see.
“That’s what I said,” said Leon.
“But you didn’t notice anybody following you?”
“Nope.”
“How about you, Devlin?”
“Nothing.”
Natalie found it strange that someone had appeared out of nowhere, placed the note and disappeared again without anybody noticing but surrendered to the fact it had been found and they needed to decide on what to do next.
“We have to go check it out,” suggested an enthusiastic Devlin.
“I’m with Devlin. We can’t just sit around doing nothing. We need to progress.”
She thought for a moment knowing that the males of the group were correct and brushed back a loose strand of hair that had been tickling her nose far too long.
She studied the note. It was a piece of paper torn from a lined sheet with writing not following the normal rules as the words had been written diagonally across it.
“It seems that whoever this did so in a rush. It looks as though it has potential to have been neatly written, somewhere in between,” said Natalie her nose screwed up whilst examining it.
“More importantly, I think, it’s been written by a women,” said Devlin.
“Really? What makes you say that?”
“I agree with Devlin,” said Leon. “Look at the way it is joined, extra swirls of lines where there needn’t be any. Females tend to decorate their writing a bit. Remember that scrap of paper you wrote on recently? Well, you do exactly the same.”
“That’s exactly what I meant,” said Devlin. “The only thing missing are the little hearts above the letter ‘I.’”
“This could also be a trap. An ambush. It could’ve been written by that woman, Bravo wotsit, you were telling me about,” said Heather.
The group considered this for a moment, Leon glancing down at his firearm.
“We will do our best but we can’t just sit around here and wait for everyone to become infected, food to run out or the American Air Force to bomb us to high heaven,” said Leon. “We go. We leave in one hour. Food now.”
Devlin and Natalie didn’t disagree whilst Heather made a squeaking sound as she prepared to challenge the decision cutting herself short mid word.
The coterie, including Heather, made their way again to the canteen and Devlin volunteered to prepare the meal of the day. He prepared a meal not considering the rationing required. Instead, he focused on the impending adventure, knowing that this may well end up being their last meal.
For dinner was a small chicken pie each, peas, chips and beans that caused even Leon to smile countering his normal grumpy and serious self. They sat and ate with barely a conversation developing.
Natalie looked at the time depicted on the large clock, heard ticking away, hung on the wall at one end of the canteen. The time was 1647 hours. Thirteen minutes to go. Another three minutes and they had all finished eating.
Leon was first to get to the vehicle and opened the boot lid unlocking a lock box contained within. He ordered Devlin and Natalie to check their magazines in their Glocks and ensured everyone had replenished it with a further two clips strapped to their other thigh.
Leon handed out MP5s once again; each equipped with the holographic sight securely fastened in place. He examined his comrades individually ensuring that the shoulders straps were not too loose or too tight, not too low or too high.
Heather had appeared to see them off. “Be careful,” she said.
“We will,” replied Natalie. “This will be dangerous but we will do our best to return uninjured. You’ve still got that radio. Listen in and we will try to transmit if something goes wrong. At least… then you’ll know if you are going to be by yourself from then on.”
“Okay. Well I’ve got to get back to James anyway. He’s stable but I must keep an eye on his condition. The slightest fluctuation can cause a serious backlash.”
Heather walked back into the police station at that point not knowing how their mission would pan out and she feared the worst. The only reason she walked away is to not let her concern be noticed so she wouldn’t show the group that she doubted their victory. It didn’t go unnoticed as she had planned. She decided that introducing her cure to James would take her mind off it.
Having entered the car in their usual positions, the trio left the rear yard of safety into the streets of peril.
There was a maze of streets to be manoeuvred before they could access the dual carriageway. The most direct route to the industrial park was the other side of Lakeford.
Familiar sights of terror were on every street corner but no zombies this time. Maybe they had found some survivors barricaded in somewhere, thought Natalie. The air was filled with an eerie silence. No screams for help. No groans of hunger. No shots of protection.
They all thought that something didn’t feel right but knew that the undead were still out there somewhere.
“How long you reckon?” asked Devlin.
“Less than twenty minutes. I’ve never done a journey like this without traffic,” said Leon.
Leon entered the dual carriageway after just a few minutes and was making good progress. A few miles later and he entered a long tunnel with a single animation within, mowing it down to mush whilst their radios beeped to indicate loss of signal.
“It’s a serious officer safety risk these radios not working in places like this and it’s not just underground that this happens,” said Natalie.
Leon replied by simply nodding in agreement. He thought that she was right and that boosters should have been installed to increase airwave range in many locations he had visited.
They emerged from the tunnel, full signal being restored, and fifteen minutes later they had arrived, pulling into the industrial park to see an array of warehouses some open and others not. Unit 7, of course, was locked but Leon quickly assessed the locking mechanisms with his destructive behaviour and smiled.
Unit 7 was very large. The exterior was made up of brick with most of the front covered by
a metal shutter as tall as the building.
Judging by the overlap of metal from the roof, the warehouse had the appearance of being unfinished in build as the metal looked like tin being the very material keeping the rain from demolishing any evidence they might find. At least it wasn’t raining at that moment but the darkening clouds suggested it wouldn’t be long.
To the left of the metal shutter was a thick door that Natalie decided were likely to lead up a set of stairs.
The locks to the shutter that Leon had looked at were simple industrial padlocks locking the shutter to the ground, one at each end. The padlocks themselves looked indestructible but the hoops on the floor didn’t appear as strong.
A few lurking zombies unaware of their presence were shuffling in the distance away from them. This would soon change if Leon was to do what Natalie thought he would. Leon raised his MP5 proving her assumption right.
“You guys point towards those fuckers whilst I ‘unlock’ these shutters,” said Leon already having familiarised himself with the surroundings.
Natalie and Devlin stood back to back in an attempt to provide the best cover from both ends of the aisle of warehouses.
Natalie looked down her sight along the corridor to see the zombies walking across at the end of her runway. Devlin had his sights on none but had been informed that it didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be any approaching from the direction, especially with them being able to run and jump.
“Okay, stand back.”
Natalie and Devlin sidestepped away from the shutter, Natalie being more aware of the possibility of ricochet than him, and three loud cracks rung out high in the air.
Birds had noticed and were flying away in masses to vacate the area apparently aware of impending danger.
The zombies were apparently not as cognizant to sound as they are to smell, obvious due to their continued and unphased roam.
“That ought to do it,” said Leon. “Can’t believe I missed that left one on the first shot though.”
“Haven’t you got a silencer or something’,” asked Devlin. “We’re lucky they didn’t turn around an’ chase us.”
“Silencers are not standard issue. When we get called it’s generally as a result of someone in possession, or believed to be in possession, of a firearm. We don’t sneak around and conduct stealth kills.”
“Guys, we’re in now aren’t we?” said Natalie. “Let’s go.”
Leon kept his armed hand poised whilst bending at the knees to lift the shutter fast and steady. Devlin and Natalie were stood in a formation that formed three points of a triangle, including Leon, providing basic cover.
As the shutter slid open Leon jumped back replacing his spare hand under the other steadying the Glock he chose as his primary weapon of choice.
As was all too often the case in the apocalyptic world, the interior was dark and gloomy but this time they were prepared.
Each had already retrieved a flashlight from the car and was shining them forwards.
The warehouse was a single floor, the door to the side confirmed as going upstairs to what they believed to be offices. There were workstations enough to house around twenty employees for whatever work they had been employed to do.
There were beakers, tubes and a single whiteboard within – the beakers mostly broken on the floor along with a hint of crimson that stain. On the white board was an unrecognisable formula that had been partially wiped clean. This didn’t appear to be an attempt to wipe the board clean but more as though someone had fallen against also moving it into an unnatural position.
The smell in the air was faintly rotten. It was a smell that suggested a zombie, or more, had been present at some point in time leaving only a trace of its scent behind. More prominent was a stale chemical smell that the officers recognised as being very similar to smoked cocaine, though, not exactly the same. This smell made sense with the beakers and tubes lying around.
The three quickly cleared the warehouse finding no signs of any zombies lurking in the shadows.
They stood before the whiteboard analysing the partial formula entitled: Z:UK Stage 1.
“This must be where the virus was made,” Natalie quickly concluded.
“We don’t know that yet. Likely, yes, but do you understand any of this?” asked Leon.
“No. I mean I recognise some of the elements from the periodic table but I can’t remember all of them.”
“Have you guys forgotten someone?” said Devlin. “It’s not often I’m the brightest one.”
Leon and Natalie looked at each other and then back to Devlin to elaborate on his comment.
“Heather? The analyst? The scientist? She will be able to help us out and recognise most of those elements if not all of them.”
“That’s true,” said Natalie. “Okay, but how are we going to bring this back? It won’t fit in the car.”
“No, it won’t. I have my phone on me. It’s not good for much else but it has a camera,” offered Leon palming it from his pocket.
They all agreed on taking pictures and Leon proceeded to take them from various angles to ensure that he covered everything and nothing was missed out. He also studied the areas where the board had been wiped to see if any streaks from the pen faintly remained but there wasn’t.
They were unable to uncover any other items of evidence and decided that their next port of call were the offices upstairs and they withdrew from the warehouse floor and approached the thick wooden door.
Leon readied his boots for another destructive entry when Natalie stopped him and placed a hand on the handle turning it and pushing the door open.
“Always try the handle first,” she advised.
“I usually do,” he whispered back.
As expected, there were stairs leading up to the first and only other floor with a short corridor ahead at the top.
There were only two doors leading off into rooms; one on the left and the other at the end in front of them. They tried the door to the left first.
As was true with the corridor, this room was vacant of any enemies. A desk decorated with knocked over pens from the stationary holder and a computer with the monitor felled sat at one end.
A filing cabinet had been cached away into a dark cobwebbed corner isolated from its metal companions and other interracial furniture counterparts. The top draw was open a touch with something protruding from it. It was an item made of paper that was quite large and overhanging.
Having searched almost everywhere and finding nothing they approached the filing cabinet as their last ditch effort to gain information from the office.
Natalie opened the top drawer fully and removed the large sheet of paper which struck her with anger and she threw it at Devlin.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“Both of you. Look at it.”
The two male members of their fraternity looked and noticed that this too had a heading. It read: Final Placement for Delta 4.
Below the title was a blueprint of a ventilation system linking a hotel and a restaurant of the same name in London – the heart of, no less.
“The prick placed it in his home town and in Liverpool Street. God only knows how many people were subjected to the poison. That’s where he placed it. I cannot believe I ever loved him. Derek’s note said Marcus was Delta 4.”
“Natalie, we know he has done wrong but we don’t know his reasons behind it. Money, maybe? We also don’t know how much he is involved or if he actually knew to what extent would happen,” said Leon in a failed attempt of defusing the growing anger Natalie was demonstrating.
“Are you sticking up for him now?”
“No, I’m not. I’m simply pointing out that there is a bigger picture and we only have one piece of that puzzle.”
“Leon’s right, Natalie. Let’s move on shall we? Is there anything else in those drawers?”
Natalie continued to search, apparently deciding that the boys were right, with the help of Leon but found nothing el
se of informative value.
They entered the corridor once more and approached the second and final door at the end, it being Devlin’s turn to take the lead.
Devlin pushed the door to and kept his firearm raised as he had seen Leon do on occasion.
They all entered and, yet again, there were no zombies in sight.
“We have been lucky today,” said Devlin with a hint of disappointment and gratefulness in his voice.
“As I said before, Dev. Stay on guard.”
Looking around showed them an identical looking office to the one they had just searched minus the filing cabinet.
Another search was carried out which resulting in nothing being found. The computer was pointless as it had been smashed, similar method used on the one in the first office, that appeared to be deliberate; it had the same point of impact and roughly the same result in damage.
However, as they were leaving, Devlin happened to look down towards the small waste basket hidden accidentally by a fallen lamp.
Within were torn pieces of paper, one reading a partial word: lan.
“Guys, have a look.”
They all peered in and Leon retrieved the five torn pieces and placed them on the desk.
“I was always good at jigsaw puzzles,” he said before they set to work.
The message conveyed by the pieces became apparent, the puzzle quickly resolved. In full it read only a title.
“Everything here has a title. What the hell does ‘The Ultimate Plan’ mean?” said Devlin.
“As you said Leon, there really is a bigger picture,” realised Natalie. “Where are the rest of the pieces?”
Devlin emptied the waste bin to find no further remnants of the note.
“Not here,” he said. “Was there a bin in the other office?”
“No,” said Leon and Natalie in unison.
“Well, that will have to do for now. We’d better go,” said Leon and they left.
Outside, they noticed a large number of zombies walking towards them from the direction they had previously seen the few walkers. The few they had seen were unhindered by their level of noise but something had began to draw them and many more to their location. They froze.
