Storm of the Dead

by D. P. Sloan

  All over Scotland, the victims that had been eaten had begun to waken up to a new lease of life. Began to stand up, to walk about and attack more living people.

  Scotland was simply…….dead.

  *

  “You are watching SKY News,” the broadcaster began, “tonight we talk about Scotland and the virus that has engulfed the place north of the border. We examine what the Prime Minister said this afternoon outside number ten and what the leaders of Elite Corporation has told us. But first we would like to pay our condolences to our Scottish friends and families and want to talk about the thing we thought only happened in movies, games and shown in comics – Zombies. We called upon an expert in this field Mr Matt Boyd who is a behind the scenes expert on Fox’s The Talking Dead, the show behind the infamous The Walking Dead horror television programme. So, Matt can you enlighten us on the problem that we as a nation are dealing with at the moment?”

  Matt Boyd, a thirty-seven-year-old father of one, born in Kilwinning but moved to California with his wife and son when he was twenty-two years old to chase a dream of working in movie industry. He began studying all things Zombie related after reading Max Brooks’ Zombie Survival Guide novel. He was beginning to become a bit thin on top as his once lovely brown hair was receding.

  Matt looked at the broadcaster and cleared his throat, “Well James, Zombies have been about for a good give or take three hundred years – maybe more. And –“ he was cut short by the broadcaster.

  “Surly you mean in movies and games etc?”

  Matt shook his head, “The Zombie virus is as real as the next thing James,” Matt began, “you see people have been bringing their dead loved ones and others back from the dead for a long time whether it be by black magic or voodoo in far off countries like Zimbabwe or even India, years ago when a person died a chant in these types of countries was delivered at the graveside only for days later someone to spot said dead person walking about town as though nothing had happened. Look on the internet; look at newspaper articles, Government official leaked documents. It’s all there for the curious reader. These events happened and it’s happening again although this time these zombies aren’t your friendly walking about type by the things I’ve read and seen so far. This is a virus that has turned them into killing machines. It has shut down any link to Scotland, no one in and no one out. No access to internet or television, there is no way whatsoever to communicate with Scotland in general. Scotland’s own Government have not been seen since it took over Glasgow which I’m led to believe they have went into hiding and personally I don’t blame them one bit.”

  “What’s your take on what the UK Prime Minister said today and also your take on this group called Elite Corporation?” the broadcaster chimed in.

  “Well the Prime Minister said that her heartfelt condolences go out to Scotland and that Elite Corporation are appointed to deal with it. If they have experience and know what they are doing then so be it. Hell, I would feel safer known that this faction and our UK Government have it covered and contained in Scotland. We don’t want a risk of it spreading out all across the United Kingdom.”

  “And what do you think caused this outbreak?” the broadcaster questioned.

  Matt sat back on the comfy black leather chair, “Well that’s simple; I believe it is a virus, airborne at first before settling down and infecting everyone it could.”

  “Do you think there are any survivors?”

  Matt shook his head, “If there are survivors in Scotland- God help them and protect them is all I can say at this time. My heart wants to believe there are survivors but my brain says nope no way not in the slightest chance. An old saying from a movie sticks in my mind – ‘When there is no more room in Hell, the dead shall walk the Earth!’

  “Thank you, Matt, now after the break something light to discuss – I’m a Celebrity, will Pat Sharp be able to do the Bush Tucker Trial and will it be a full funhouse tonight?”

  CHAPTER 41

  THE ESCAPE

  The truck sped around Canniesburn Toll Roundabout and up the Switchback Road then Michaels floored it down onto Bearsden Road. The whole place had been decimated however dead people were now walking about, there were few and far between but there were wandering about and as a caution, Michaels was not slowing down whatsoever and sped down through Anniesland Cross and onto Crow Road. He was about to enter the Clyde Tunnel when he noticed that it was no more – collapsed and now under the water of the River Clyde.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Michaels said through gritted teeth. He stopped the truck, took a deep breath. Then took a sharp U-turn and headed left down South Street and back onto Dumbarton Road.

  “What way now?” Katy asked.

  “Erskine Bridge,” Michaels answered, “we head over the Erskine Bridge and get to Glasgow Airport that way. Nothing is going to stop us getting the Hell out of this place!”

  Both Katy and Gregg nodded and smiled then all three sat in silence taking in the surrounding areas. Seeing the crashed cars and dead people walking about.

  It took around ten minutes to get to the turnoff for the Erskine Bridge, when it came into view the trio found it threatening. The stories they had all heard about the suicides on the bridge, people some as young as fourteen jumping over the sides and down into the murky waters below.

  Michaels hit the ramp and headed up and onto the bridge where all of a sudden, he braked hard.

  “Jesus Christ!” Gregg said in amazement.

  “What in the name of Hell!” Katy exclaimed.

  Michaels just sat staring through the windscreen for in front of them on the bridge was Zombies in various forms of decay. The bridge was jam packed full of them.

  Michaels breathed deeply and let out a whoosh of air, “Buckle up you too and hold on tight, this is going to get messy!”

  He put the truck into gear, breathed deeply again and floored the accelerator, speeding off fast towards the dead.

  Bodies flew everywhere as he carved a path through the dead, avoiding abandoned cars and other trucks as he went. Decaying zombies burst apart on impact, arms and legs, heads and feet blew apart as he raced over the bridge. Some zombies managed to hang onto the trucks sides and back and half a torso clung to the front of the truck, his intestines flapping in the wind as he snarled and tried to reach up to the windscreen.

  “You…..just……don’t……want….to give…..up, do you!” Michaels yelled as he swerved past a burnt out artic lorry.

  The snarling continued as Michaels ploughed into other zombies as the turned to attack the truck. The dead guy still clung to the front of the truck. The trio inside watched as it snapped its jaws at them, drool clinging to its decaying lips as its organs began falling out from below.

  Michaels swerved one more time and then ploughed through the last line of defence of the zombies on the bridge then they were off the bridge hurtling down the M898 as the torso zombie went flying off the front of truck onto the road before them and one with last crunch of the tyres its brains were splattered all over the road.

  “Woohoo, yeah!” Gregg and Katy shouted in unison.

  They took the first left turn and rolled onto the M8. Silence in front of them, only abandoned cars and other vehicles lay strewn across the motorway.

  “Next stop – the airport!” Michaels said with delightfulness in his voice now.

  The zoomed along the isolated road heading through Georgetown and coming off the M8 and along and into Glasgow Airport.

  They drove round and onto Bute Road and then parked on Caledonia Way.

  “Right as soon as we all exit this truck and enter the airport,” Michaels began, “we arm ourselves with whatever weapon we can get, enter the airport and head for the nearest fire exit that takes us onto the runways, we then head right towards a hanger which contains my aeroplane it is situated next to the building marked, ‘Signature Flight Support,’ if we get separated, we meet there and board my plane.”

  Both teens nodded together befor
e all three of them exited the truck and ran into the terminal. On entering standing and shuffling around were more zombies. Michael and the teens grabbed whatever they could and started battling their way through the crowd of the dead heading right towards the fire exit. They ran through the doors which gave off an alarm and ran into a long corridor that winded its way down towards another fire exit that led outside again onto the runways. Michaels looked over his shoulder and noticed more of the dead were chasing them down the corridor.

  “Everybody RUN! FAST! NOW!” Michaels screamed.

  The teens and Michaels ran fast over to the hanger. Michaels got to the side door, pulled out the keys and unlocked the door.

  “Quick get in!” the teens done exactly what he said and Michaels quickly locked the door.

  The teens turned and saw the private aeroplane standing there in the centre of the hanger.

  “Come on,” Michaels began, “No hanging about. Let’s just get going.” He raced over to the plane followed closely by the teens. He pulled a lever resulting in a set of steps folding down and the door opening. They all boarded the plane. Michaels hit a button which opened the hangers’ shutters with a rattle the shutters folded to one side. Michaels started up the plane, and began manoeuvring it out of the hanger and turned left and headed down towards the runway. The teens strapped themselves in and watched out the windows as the dead engulfed the runway chasing after the aeroplane, chasing after them. Michaels turned onto the runway, stopped for a second before pulling on the thrusters and powering away, hurtling down the runway building up the speed before lifting the plane into the air and away from the dead that were chasing them, away from the infected zone. Away from Glasgow and away from Scotland for now.

  “Hey Ryan,” Gregg called.

  “Yeah?” Michaels called back. Pulling the wheels up and heading up to top altitude.

  “Where now?” Gregg asked.

  “London,” Michaels answered, “London to bring down the Prime Minister and Elite Corporation once and for all.”

  Both Gregg and Katy smiled before giving each other a long overdue kiss and cuddle.

  “We will win babe,” Katy told her boyfriend.

  “I know we will,” Gregg agreed smiling, “I know we will.”

  *

  From below the plane, just as the wheels tucked up into its body a zombie held on for its decaying life.

  CHAPTER 42

  REASSURANCE

  A meeting was calling in the board room at Downing Street and was attended by all head officials in London.

  “So, can you confirm that all the rest of the UK is going to be fine?” a Major from the British Army began the questioning.

  “I can assure you that my top priority is to make England safe,” the Prime Minister assured all that sat around the table.

  “And Northern Ireland as well!” the Northern Ireland Prime Minister chimed in.

  The Tory leader nodded, “Of course and also Wales. The problem north of the border will stay north of the boarder that I give my word on. As you have heard I appointed a company fronted by an ex-sergeant from the army. This company has stated that they along will contain the outbreak and deal with the matter. They have assured me that yes the virus was airborne but has not left the area over Scotland.”

  “But can they be sure?” added an official from the Welsh parliament, “I mean we all know rain and clouds and fog move so why can’t this virus? What’s so different between this virus and say rain travelling?”

  “I’ll answer this,” West stood up, “the virus known as Trixie-500 is a disease that rots humans from the inside out turning them into shambling living dead people. The virus was airborne but when the rain dispersed, the virus literally fell to the ground again. Thankfully and yes you can thank God or Mother Nature whatever you prefer but it hasn’t rained here in what? Around two weeks and it has been relatively dry not much of a wind or even a snowfall yet. So yes, as the Prime Minister has stated myself Doctor Angus West and Sergeant James Lomax front Elite Corporation, we are small group of experts that deal with this kind of outbreak and we will do our very best to protect the rest of the UK.”

  “But aren’t you Scottish?” asked the Welsh official.

  “We are both Scottish,” Lomax stood up, “but sadly it looks like we are the only survivors from across the boarder, we intend to rebuild Scotland but right now we must eradicate the dead that are now roaming the streets up there.”

  “So, what’s the plan?” the Irish Minister asked.

  The Prime Minister closed her eyes for a split second, took in a deep breath, and then stood up to address her guests.

  “We drop a nuclear bomb on them!”

  Mutters and whispers began amongst the rest of the visitors. Lomax leaned into West and whispered into his ear before turning back to the Prime Minister and whispered to her as well. The Prime Minister nodded.

  “Listen everybody,” she began, “it might seem a bit drastic but as Lomax and West has explained, there is no human being or creature – big or small, alive in Scotland now, they are all dead and in order to fully erase this problem, it is best to blow the place up or risk them breaking through and infecting the whole of the UK.”

  The rest of the officials all nodded and agreed before Lomax and West stepped forward and thanked the officials that sat in front of them before picking up their documents and began to leave. Just then a frantic knock came at the door before a police officer burst in looking all flustered and pale looking.

  “Mrs Prime Minister,” the middle-aged officer began, “we have a situation.”

  “What seems to be the problem officer?” the Prime Minister asked.

  The officer took a deep breath, “A plane has landed at Heathrow.”

  The room began laughing loud while Lomax and West shook their heads in unison.

  “And that’s a problem – how?” Lomax asked.

  The police officer breathed deeply before answering the room, “The tower couldn’t get through to the cockpit and there was no response from the plane whatsoever. Armed response has arrived there now.”

  “Armed response?” the Prime Minister questioned, “is this a terror threat?”

  The officer shook his head, “the tower has ruled that out as they traced the plane on radar.”

  “And where did this plane come from?” the Prime Minister asked folding her arms across her chest.

  “You are not going to like this,” the officer began, “its take-off place was Glasgow airport.”

  All eyes around the table went wide with fright. Lomax and West both looked at each other. The Prime Minister looked at them then back to the officer. Then back to them again.

  “Does this mean what I think it means?” the Irish Prime Minister asked in his thick accent. “Is there infected on the plane?”

  The Prime Minister looked at Lomax and West, “Mr Lomax, Mr West assemble your Elite Army and take control of this situation – NOW!”

  Both Lomax and West nodded before heading out of the board room and into the car. Lomax grabbed his phone while West drove the car.

  “This is Sergeant Lomax assemble the task force we have a breach at Heathrow airport. Yes, a breach, a plane from Glasgow has landed. Yes, I know we thought it was contained, just get your arses to Heathrow now!”

  The car sped off towards the airport. Both Lomax and West didn’t know what they were going to turn up too.

  CHAPTER 43

  PANIC AT THE AIRPORT

  Lomax and West pulled into the front of the terminal and saw that the airport was being evacuated. They saw their own Elite Corporation vans and trucks and their small group of soldiers all standing awaiting the go ahead to enter. West came to a stop and both men got out and walked up to their soldiers.

  “Are we all set?” Lomax asked the first soldier they came too.

  “Yes sir,” the soldier replied, “thirty Elite soldiers’ sir awaiting your command sir.”

  Lomax nodded, “When we enter here,
we have no clue if the aircraft contains the infected or if it actually contains survivors. No matter what we contain this here at the airport, we shoot to kill.”

  “Sir even if its survivors’ sir?” one soldier asked.

  Lomax walked down the line and stopped in front of the soldier, “Even if its survivors soldier! In fact, when we left there we left expecting the so-called survivors of a man and two teens to succumb to Project Takeover. But someone flew that plane from Glasgow to here and West certainly didn’t command one of his dead to fly it so it seems it is indeed survivors. How many? Well we don’t know but its probably going to be either one, two or the three of them. We shoot to kill and contain this. Make it look like they were infected, we keep things here on lock down. If indeed a police officer or a member of the public asked us anything we say classified. Do I make myself clear? Do you understand?”

  “Yes sir!” the group of soldiers yelled back in unison.

  “Okay,” West began, “man yourselves with your weapons and bring this incident to a close so we can move on to being the saviours of the Scotland, of the UK of the entire world and get the recognition we deserve. We are running this show and we will not stop until we have the world eating out of our hands!”

  “Yes sir,” the soldiers all yelled again in unison before grabbing their guns and ammo from the trucks and vans and entered the main building led by Lomax.

  On entering they were met with the chief of police standing in the middle of the main building. He put out his hand to shake the man walking directly up to him.

  “Sergeant Lomax I presume,” the Chief began. Lomax didn’t take the handshake he simple stopped dead in his tracks literally a foot in front of the Chief how then lowered his hand, he cleared his throat, “I am Chief Rick Reddus. My team of ten-armed response officers have surrounded the main exits from the plane that touched down. We are awaiting your orders.”

  Lomax nodded, “Okay your orders are to stand down.”

  Rick a fifty-six-year-old grey haired, weather beaten faced man looked puzzled, “What?”