The Dead Walk The Earth II

by Luke Duffy

  Both men could not wait to be back in the relative safety of their base on the top floor apartment, but they refrained from allowing their eagerness to dictate their pace. The last phase of any mission was always the most perilous. Soldiers throughout history had often had a habit of letting their guard down when the end was in sight and it was then, regardless of how proficiently they had performed their task, that they became unstuck.

  The two men turned into a street where the night seemed to turn darker still. The shadows of the tall buildings merged into one and blanketed the road that ran between them and rendered everything invisible to their watchful eyes. Even through their NVGs it was almost impossible to penetrate the blackness. The lack of ambient light that could be magnified by their goggles forced them to rely more upon their other senses.

  Bull trusted his guts more than any other intuit. Over the years there had been very few occasions when his sixth sense, emanating from the pit of his stomach, had proven him wrong. Now his instincts were screaming at him to find somewhere to hide. He stopped and raised his hand, showing Bobby the flat of his palm while he kept the barrel of his machinegun pointed along the darkened street. A few seconds later, he swept his arm to the side, indicating for them to move into cover.

  Bobby did not hesitate. He stepped to the side and took up position beside a low wall that jutted out from one of the buildings on his right. Bull quickly joined him and hunkered down in the shadows behind him.

  “What is it?” Bobby whispered over his shoulder but keeping his attention and the barrel of his weapon focussed on the street.

  “Not sure,” Bull replied. “There’s something moving up ahead and coming this way. I didn’t see what or how many but they’re definitely closing.”

  Bobby nodded and sunk deeper into the shadows, clutching his rifle tightly and readying himself for a fight. If it were a herd of the infected, they would just have to sit it out and hope that they were not seen. If it were just a few stragglers wandering aimlessly, then the knives of the two men would come into play. They listened intently, waiting for the distinct sounds of scraping feet and low grunts that always announced the arrival of the dead, but there was nothing happening close by. The usual night sounds of the lifeless city could be heard in the adjacent streets and over the buildings as the infected cried out into the darkness but there was nothing in close proximity to the two men crouching behind the small wall.

  “You sure you saw something?” Bobby whispered after a minute of silence and beginning to wonder whether Bull was becoming a little too jittery.

  “I didn’t see anything,” Bull snorted angrily. “I heard something and just got a feeling that there was something there.”

  “Oh right, so you were using your Jedi powers and now we’re sitting here like a couple of wankers because you felt a disturbance in ‘the force’?”

  “Fuck off, Bobby. I’m just as keen to get back as…”

  The pair of them instantly fell silent as their radios began to hiss in their ears. They could hear a voice but it was distorted and unrecognisable through waves of static. They looked at one another questioningly but neither of them had an answer.

  “Unknown call sign, say again,” Bobby whispered as he pressed the send button and spoke into the microphone attached to his assault vest.

  There was no reply except for the familiar hiss in his ear of an empty carrier wave. Bobby stood up and cautiously looked in both directions, straining to see through the gloom. The street appeared empty, even though his field of vision stretched no further than a few metres. He nodded to Bull and then stepped back out onto the pavement in the hope of getting a clearer signal through his antenna.

  “Stan, this is Bobby, radio check.”

  The radio crackled again but as before, the voice was indistinguishable. Bobby stepped further out into the open and stood beside the slowly decaying hulk of a large silver people carrier. He turned and hunched his shoulders and began speaking quietly into his mouthpiece as he slowly stepped back into the shadow of the broken down vehicle.

  Bull remained in position and covering his friend while he attempted to make contact with the rest of the team but as he moved further away, Bull could see less of him. Bobby was soon nothing more than a faint dark shape, barely distinguishable from the blanket of darkness that had begun to swallow him up as he increased the distance between himself and the protection of the wall.

  “Stan, this is…” Bobby began trying again.

  He felt himself abruptly falling backwards towards the vehicle and was unable to stop. Something was pulling at his harness, catching him off balance and drawing him closer towards the door of the people carrier. His back and shoulders slammed against the frame of the rear window and he felt the cold bony hands of an infected person grasping at the bare skin on the back of his neck from inside the vehicle. He pulled and twisted, trying to break free but he could not get his feet into a position where he could grip against the ground. One of his legs slipped from underneath him and his weight dragged him downwards but the clutching hands refused to relinquish their grip upon him.

  Bobby reached for his machete but before he could draw it, another figure shot out from around the other side of the car and pounced upon him. Instinctively, he drove the long blade up through the creature’s abdomen but it did not slow his attacker down in the slightest. The sharp steel pierced organs and scraped over bone but the ghastly face in front of him did not seem to notice. Its teeth snapped together loudly as it lunged downwards towards Bobby’s face. Bobby snapped his head to the side, the dead man’s jaws gnashing on thin air just centimetres away from his cheek. Again, he pushed back on his machete with all his strength, hoping to keep the thing at a distance while he tried to regain his footing and break free from the corpse holding him in place from behind. The hilt of the machete slipped through the weakened flesh of the cadaver with a soft popping sound and Bobby found himself wrist deep in the putrid intestines that began to spill out from the gaping wound. The teeth snapped shut again, just millimetres from his face.

  Bull saw a shadow flicker across in front of where he had seen Bobby disappear into the darkness. He heard a dull thud as something crashed against the steel frame of a car and it was quickly followed by the scuffing of feet mixed with the grunts and gasps of a struggle. He jumped from his cover position and drew his long blade, bounding across the pavement and into the road in just a few rapid steps.

  Bobby was wedged against the window, being tugged from inside the vehicle while the weight of a reanimated corpse pressed against him from the outside. His hands were pinned in front of him and he was unable to reach for his pistol because it would risk allowing the snapping jaws to gain ground on him.

  Bull reached over and grabbing the thing by the collar of its jacket, wrenched the infected away from Bobby. With a mighty heave, Bull tossed the corpse away to the side where it crashed into the wall that he and Bobby had taken cover behind just a few moments before. Its head thumped against the brick barrier with a heavy crunch that snapped its spinal column and split its skull wide open. The body slumped to the ground, dead.

  Next, Bull turned his attention to the clawing hands that held Bobby stuck to the window frame of the people carrier. He grabbed his partner by the straps on the front of his harness and pulled him up from the ground and forward towards him. The cold dead hands came with him, refusing to let go of Bobby. The skeletal face of a woman appeared through the opening as she was dragged out from the car’s rear passenger seat. As her head and shoulders came free, Bull raised his knife and thrust it down into the top of the woman’s head, driving the point of the blade deep into her brain.

  They had to pry the fingers free from Bobby’s harness as the creature maintained a stubborn death grip upon him. The bones snapped and Bobby was finally free. He stood for a short moment with his hands upon his knees and panting for breath and then moved towards the curb side. Crouching down, he began washing his hands in a puddle to remove the gunk and
stench of the rotten corpse’s innards.

  “Cheers, mate,” he grunted up at the big man standing close by.

  He was shaken and confused about how he had found himself in such a predicament. He wiped his hands on his trousers and stood back up, turning to face Bull. He could vaguely see the scrutinising expression on his friend’s face and swiftly realised that he could virtually read his thoughts.

  “No, neither of them managed to get me,” Bobby assured him as he rubbed his hands over the back of his neck and his arms, checking for any wounds sustained in the struggle that he had failed to notice.

  Bull nodded.

  Another sound close by made them turn and raise their weapons. Two figures stepped out from the gloom and cautiously moved towards them.

  “Have you two finished dicking about?” Stan’s voice asked impatiently in a low hoarse whisper. “We’ve been trying to get hold of you for the past hour.”

  Bull and Bobby almost laughed out loud with relief. They had been expecting more infected to come rushing towards them but it was their commander coming to their rescue. Danny stood beside Stan and grinned back at Bobby.

  “We could’ve done with your help a minute ago,” Bobby remarked as the four of them huddled into the cover of the wall.

  “Yeah, we saw your little scrap but we didn’t want to get involved and end up getting our heads bashed in by you both,” Danny replied and indicated the sprawled body of the infected man lying close by.

  “Your task complete?” Stan asked, looking from one to the other and keen to get away from the area.

  “Yeah,” Bobby nodded. “All in place and good to go. What about the other two bins, did you get them planted?”

  “All good,” Stan answered. “Everything went as planned and the baskets are secure. Now let’s get back.”

  At the apartment block, the four men skulked back in through the gate at the main entrance and headed up the stairs. Marty had remained in the foyer, keeping an eye on their rear while Taff had positioned himself on the roof to afford a better over-watch and clearer communications with Stan while he went looking for Bobby and Bull.

  “Go on, Bull,” Taff sneered. “What kind of drama have you been getting yourself into this time? Stan has been worried sick about you. He was pacing the house, ready to phone the police and report you guys missing.”

  Stan checked his watch and looked out over the rooftops. The sun would be coming up within the next few hours and with their initial task completed, the operation would be reaching the next phase. He walked across the roof and checked on the factory to their rear. He could just about make out the gate leading in from the street. He eyed the wall that split the factory from the apartments with suspicion, searching for any gaps or weak points that they had not seen earlier. He hoped that once the music began the dead would not begin wandering in from the rear. The first of the noise boxes was just a few hundred metres away and they should be close enough for the infected to zero in on without too many of them straying into the complex by accident.

  “We should try to get some sleep,” he said glancing at his watch again and looking across to the eastern horizon. “The fun and games will begin soon.”

  Taff remained on the roof with Danny while the others moved down into the apartment to rest. Once first light arrived, Stan would remote trigger the music and then begin sending situation reports to the operations staff back on the Isle of Wight. The other teams that were scattered throughout the city would initiate phase-two at the same time and before long, there would be a mass exodus of rotting corpses converging on the respective locations and forming themselves into huge swarming targets for the bombers.

  “I can see our house from here,” Danny pointed out childishly.

  Taff turned and looked over to the north. Against the dark horizon, he could just make out the towering building that had once been their home before the spread of the infection. It was roughly three kilometres away and on the opposite side of the River Thames.

  “That’s a shame,” Taff grumbled as he turned his attention back to the south.

  “What is?”

  “I left a very nice and expensive leather jacket behind in my wardrobe there. It cost me nearly three-hundred quid, mate.”

  As first light arrived, the men assembled on the rooftop. They had all brewed themselves coffee and brought their cups up with them while they settled in to watch the beginning of the next phase in the operation. There would be very little for them to do other than observe and send situation reports while ensuring that their LTD, Laser Target Designator, remained aiming into the centre of mass. Taff had already set up the guidance system. It was placed on top of an extendable tripod, close to the roof’s edge and pointing towards the furthest junction where the first of the airstrikes would hit. He had checked the batteries and ensured that the sight was accurate to where the splash of the laser landed.

  Stan squatted close to the lip of the rooftop while the others sat beside him on stools and dining chairs that they had brought up from the apartment, slurping at their drinks with expressions of anticipation. He hit the remote and within seconds, the faint sounds of music began to drift up towards them.

  “It’s not very loud, is it?” Taff snorted with disappointment as he strained to hear the low and incoherent sounds that only just managed to reach them.

  “What did you expect, Taff, a bloody rave?” Bull replied as he turned his head and angled his ear towards the music bins.

  Stan fumbled with the control-pad and finally worked out how to increase the volume. Soon, the entire area was blaring with sounds that the city had not heard in a long time while the men squinted, trying to identify the distorted music. Next, he began initiating the other two sound devices that were closer and within seconds, as he maximised the volume on each, the area became alive with music.

  “What’s on the playlist?” Marty asked.

  “I think it’s an opera?” Danny replied.

  Bull shook his head and held up a silencing finger. The look upon his face was intense and he cocked his ear in the direction of the first junction. He could only hear snippets due to the echoes and distance, and the fact that all three bins were playing together and were out of sync. However, he was sure that he recognised fragments of the music. Finally, he smiled broadly and turned to the others with a glint in his eyes.

  “Danny’s right,” he beamed elatedly and glared at Marty. “It’s an opera and it’s by Wagner. It’s Ride of the Valkyries.”

  Marty could not hear it clearly but he smiled with pride and delight. He was especially pleased with the fact that the music being played was the regimental march of his and Bull’s old parent unit, The Parachute Regiment.

  “You Paras,” Taff scoffed with a grin and shaking his head. “You’re all the fucking same. As soon as you hear that fat chick screeching away, you all get a hard-on.”

  “Well it’s far more stirring than the marching tune that your lot used to play. What was it again? The theme tune to Laurel and Hardy, wasn’t it?”

  Stan panned his binoculars over the junctions before him. The music had only been playing for a minute or so but already, hundreds of shuffling corpses were appearing out of every doorway and from every street. The sounds of Wagner filled the air and blotted out their moans. The instruments of the orchestra replaced the crashes and bangs of the dead as they bashed about within the buildings. He looked up towards the office block across the street. More faces had appeared at the windows and began pressing themselves against the glass in an attempt to reach the outside and follow their comrades towards the source of the music. He wondered how long it would be before the panes gave way and the bodies began tumbling out into thin air.

  “Taff, go and join Bobby in the foyer and keep an eye on our rear. Let me know how we’re looking. We’ll double up the stags while those things are on the move.”

  “Roger that, Stan,” Taff replied and moved off towards the stairwell leading down from the rooftop.


  Inside the building, the music became muffled but it was still audible enough for him to hear and zero in on its direction. He began making his way down the flights of stairs and stopped to check on the S-Mine that they had stationed on the third floor. It was still securely in place and only needed the wire attaching and the safety pin pulling free to arm it. If any of the infected got inside the apartment block the team hoped that the detonation of the mine would buy them enough time to get out of the building and in to the factory complex or the adjacent street via the ropes they had attached to the roof.

  In the foyer, he met up with Bobby who was huddled behind an overturned desk set back from the entrance. Up against the doorway, they had rebuilt the barricade as best they could with the furniture and appliances taken from the ground floor apartments. Bobby was watching the car park to the rear of the building and paying particular attention to the wide gate at the far end that lay open.

  “How we looking, Bobby?” Taff whispered as he crouched down beside him and peered out through the buckled doorway.

  “See for yourself,” Bobby replied and nodded to the patch of street that he could see beyond the gates. “I take it that the show has started?”

  “Yeah. Wagner is in full swing and Bull and Marty are wanking themselves silly up there.”

  Taff looked through the sight attached to the top of his M-4 and watched as a crowd of mottled greys and browns drifted along the road beyond the gates. He felt particularly relieved that none of them had ventured into the apartment grounds as yet and that the music seemed to be channelling them all in the right direction.

  “Jesus,” Taff remarked open mouthed, “there must be thousands of them out there. This place will be teeming with those things in an hour.”