DEAD: Snapshot (Book 2): Leeds, England

by TW Brown

  “Please!” a distant voice called, snapping her focus back to her immediate surroundings.

  A brick building to her right with windows and balconies overlooking the River Aire was obviously on fire. Smoke was leaking from the bottom three levels and an orange glow could be seen emanating from within. On one of the top floor balconies was a young man who looked to be in his twenties.

  Perhaps around the same age as Simon, she thought as she looked up at the individual frantically waving his arms to try and get her attention.

  “Can you help me?” the man shouted down.

  He was already on the outside of the balcony railing and appeared to be ready to jump. He had a large bag in one hand that looked like the sort a person would carry to the gym. Even from here she could see that it was bulging and gave the impression as if it might split at the seams if poked just so.

  “Toss the bag,” Shadiyah called as she paddled closer. “Let me get it pulled in and then you jump.”

  The man seemed to consider her statement and then nodded. “Good thing you ain’t a bloke,” the man called down with a nervous laugh. He unshouldered the bag and held it up above his head.

  “Why do you say that?” Shadiyah paddled back a little to come to a stop as close to the building as she dared. The smoke and heat actually made it a dangerous prospect of getting any nearer.

  “No way would I toss all my goods down to a fella. That would be the same as just giving it away. People are not acting out of charity these days. I feel a bit badly if I am being honest.”

  “Why is that?” Shadiyah cocked her head to the side in curiosity.

  “When I first spotted you, I was actually going to wait until you got close and then I was going to try and land either on you or close enough to give you a good tip.”

  “But now you’re promising to be a gentleman?”

  “I would certainly owe you that.”

  “Well then, you best give that bag a toss before the fire climbs any higher.”

  “Do you think you can catch this?” the man asked with concern. “It’s a bit heavy. All the food I could find is inside, nothing in tins thankfully, or we would be in a bit of a pickle. Still, it’s quite heavy, so be careful.”

  Shadiyah opened her arms and gave a gesture for the man to throw the bag. He had to grip the railing of the balcony as he leaned out and then tossed it down to her. It plummeted, and proved to be just as heavy as promised. The canoe rocked sharply as she snagged it just before it landed almost in her lap. She felt her shoulder wrench a little, sending sharp pain radiating up her neck and down her side. Still, she now had the bag.

  Dropping the bag, she looked up to see the man leaping from the balcony. He would land well short of her and just a little behind. Picking up her oar, she dug in and began to paddle away. Each stroke caused her to wince as she dug into the water for all she was worth.

  For the second time in a very short period, she could hear screams for her to stop mixed with threats of what would happen if she did not. After a few minutes, the pain in her shoulder changed to nothing worse than a steady heat. She knew well enough that she would likely be more than just a little sore the next morning, but that was still several hours away.

  She glanced up at the sky and decided that perhaps darkness was not as far off as she first thought. She would need to find someplace to stay for the evening. Despite the relative safety she felt at being on the river, she did not want to spend the night in the canoe.

  She would soon have her choice made for her. She had just passed under another bridge when she saw a small fork in the waterway at the tip of what appeared to be some sort of manmade island. Keeping to the right, she felt a tingle of excitement as she figured out exactly where it was that she had arrived.

  Ensuring that the zombie presence was minimal, she finally managed to get the canoe to a spot where she could hold on to the concrete landing and pull herself up. Her shoulder gave a bit of protest, but eventually she was on solid ground and had managed to tie the small section of line that was at the bow of the canoe to a metal post.

  “The Royal Amouries Museum presents: Shogun versus Samurai,” she read from the sign.

  She was not surprised to see that somebody had already thought to come here. The entrance was destroyed. Still she considered it unlikely that the entire place was emptied out; that would take an army.

  Drawing her own scimitar, she entered the building. Once she set her original bag and the one that she had recently liberated in a safe place behind the main information desk, Shadiyah ventured into the gloom, the beam of her flashlight cutting a path in the inky blackness of the interior.

  ***

  Simon opened his eyes and sat up. That let him feel every aching muscle in his body. He did not think that his neck would ever recover from the kink he could feel in it as he tried to turn his head gingerly first one direction and then the other.

  “You look horrible,” a voice whispered from up in the front of the van.

  On instinct he turned his head to see the person speaking and was rewarded with a jolt of pain and a refusal of his head to actually complete that action. Turning his upper body towards the front of the van, he winced as the light from what hinted at the possibility of a sunny day bored into his head.

  “I was thinking that it might not be such a bad idea to just go out and allow one of those deaders to take a nip,” Cedric chimed in as he groaned and rose to a sitting position beside Simon. Obviously his body was feeling the effects of sleeping in the cramped quarters as well.

  “That would be silly,” Annie snorted as she crawled over the tops of the two men and joined Mrs. Raye in the front seat, apparently oblivious to their groans of pain as she did so.

  Simon leaned over and started to open the cargo doors when Mrs. Raye spoke up and stopped him. “I wouldn’t do that just now.” Simon’s hand slid off the handle and he adjusted his body back to the front of the vehicle, eyebrows up in question. “About twenty of those bloody things just staggered past like a bunch of sailors trying to find their way home from the pub. They were moving down the side of the motorway and headed in the same direction we want to go.”

  “Probably see a lot of those things slipping out of the city,” Simon said as he sat back against the interior of the van, continuing to rub at the base of his neck in hopes of kneading out the knot of muscles that were causing him so much grief.

  “Yes, well, perhaps in a bit we can see about getting out, otherwise I am going to piss myself,” Cedric groaned causing Annie to cover her mouth as she giggled.

  They sat quietly for a while longer. Eventually, Simon decided that it had been long enough, and after confirming from Mrs. Raye that there did not appear to be any zombies in the vicinity, he popped open the cargo doors. The rush of fresh air quickly reminded him of how dank the interior of the vehicle had become with four soggy bodies crushed in on top of each other in the closed in space.

  “I don’t imagine that anybody thought to check and see if any of these vehicles might still be able to run?” Cedric said as he returned from behind the large freight truck that seemed to have been at the center of the accident.

  Internally, Simon smacked his forehead. Apparently he had been just as exhausted as everybody else last night. Ten minutes later, they were satisfied that any of the vehicles that might have been drivable either had no keys or no gas. Of course that revelation only ended up being a bit of a disappointment as it meant that they would be walking again today. His feet were killing him. Naturally he would not be saying anything or complaining about it; of course Cedric had no such qualm and started in almost right away.

  “I got blisters on blisters, mate. How much farther do we have to go?” he groaned as he hoisted up his backpack and cinched it up tight which only prompted a new outburst. “And I think I may have a nasty rash starting in my armpits.”

  “We can stay on the M1 for a bit. Maybe we will find a vehicle that has petrol and the keys,” Simon said as he sta
rted up the road.

  The sun was over the horizon now and shining directly into his face. He recalled something he had seen in one of the vehicles in that wreck involving the van they’d used. Jogging back, he reached in and pulled out a set of what certainly looked like expensive sunglasses.

  “Cartier shades,” Cedric gasped. “Ain’t you posh!”

  That earned a chuckle from everybody and the group scoured the other vehicles for sunglasses. It was something so simple, but everybody had a laugh as they passed the few sets they discovered back and forth. When they all finally settled on their own pair, they headed up the road.

  At first, Simon was bothered by some of the faces staring out at him from vehicles as they walked. However, after a while, he simply ignored them and kept his focus on the road in front of them.

  “I am glad that you decided not to try and be some sort of hero.” The sound of a voice to his left caused Simon to jump and he turned to discover Mrs. Raye had sidled up beside him.

  Annie was skipping around Cedric at the moment singing in a whisper some pop song about making “your body rock” or some such nonsense. That left the two of them bringing up the rear and a good twenty yards or so behind Cedric and Annie. He guessed now was as good of a time as any to clear the decks on what he had seen.

  “Those were people hanging from that scaffold, right?” Simon shot a sideways glance at Mrs. Raye and saw her nod. “And was that a military truck parked on the road?”

  “It was,” Mrs. Raye confirmed. “If my mind is working correctly, that was a Foxhound parked just beyond the grove of trees.”

  “So what do you think was going on?”

  “I am sure I have no bloody idea, but it felt…off.”

  “Exactly,” Simon said with a nod. “If not for the bodies strung up, I might have had us approach. I can’t really explain it, but seeing those people hanging had me wondering. Maybe it is too many movies, but it always seems that the military, government, and basically any figure of authority always ends up being a proper git.”

  “Says the policeman,” Mrs. Raye laughed.

  “Yeah, well there is always the one idiot who tries to do good. He usually ends up dead.” Simon glanced over his shoulder, almost expecting to see the armored vehicle roaring their way with soldiers shouting and waving their weapons. All he saw was the smoky haze that shrouded Leeds and the massive accident that clogged the M1. He would not allow himself to think about the bite on his arm at the moment; that would be too depressing.

  They came to another roundabout and Simon took them down the A656. The walk was actually becoming pleasant as lush green farmland opened up the left and trees bordering on their right. Without anything being said, everybody drifted to the left side of the road, eyes keeping a watch for anything that might stumble out from the trees.

  Annie seemed like any girl out for a walk on a normal sunny day as she flitted over and plucked the occasional daisy. When Simon called for a brief break where they pulled out the little bit of bread they had managed to snatch up. Spreading on some Marmite and passing the pieces around, Mrs. Raye surprised everybody when she produced a few wrapped bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale.

  “Enjoy these, lads, it may be quite a spell before we taste the likes again.” The woman handed one of the bottles to Simon and one to Cedric. Before Annie could raise a complaint, she produced a Fruit Shoot and tossed it to the girl who caught it with a squeal of delight.

  “Apple!” Annie exclaimed, sitting down at the side of the road to enjoy her treat.

  “What about you?” Simon asked after taking a long pull of the ale and then offering his bottle to the woman.

  She produced a green tinted bottle and gave it a wistful look. Simon saw her actually wince as she twisted off the top. He read the label with a bit of confusion.

  “What is Royal Brackla?” he asked after taking another pull of his ale, savoring it like he had never done before.

  “Royal Brackla Nineteen Twenty-four,” she emphasized. “This was a gift from a male admirer.”

  Her gaze became unfocused and it was clear that she was remembering something wonderful as a smile curved her lips. She shook her head after a moment as if to clear her mind before looking back down at the bottle. With a sigh, she brought it to her lips and took a drink.

  “Ahh…heavenly.” She replaced the cap on the scotch and carefully wrapped it back up, in not only the cloth she had used for that bottle, but also what she had used to protect the two bottles of ale.

  To each his own, Simon thought.

  They hoisted their gear once more to the sounds of Cedric’s complaints; although he did seem in at least slightly better spirits. At some point, Annie had made a wreath from the daisies and was now wearing it on her head like a crown.

  The road wound lazily and, while they could see a few of the undead shambling through some of the vast fields, none seemed to take notice of their little band of travellers. Sometime just before midday, they reached a junction with a small black and white sign that pointed east.

  The sign had one word: Micklefield.

  ***

  There was an eerie silence, and Shadiyah paused every couple of steps to listen for anything that might indicate movement. Each time she paused, she asked herself if she really needed to venture into this place.

  Stop being such a ninny, she scolded herself mentally. You currently possess one weapon. If something happens to it, you are done in.

  She reached a large room with busted bits of whatever the museum had been using to keep its precious weapons and armor safe and secure. Yes, this place had obviously been looted. She could see dark lumps on the floor and closer inspection revealed that they were mannequins. Most had been entirely stripped of anything useful. There were even a couple of zombies in the mix that had been taken down.

  One in particular looked like whoever had ended its existence used it for a bit of sport before the final blow was given. It had its arms and legs cleaved from it and the blow to the head had actually split the skull almost perfectly in half.

  She wove through the massive complex and kept having sudden flare ups of worry that her flashlight would simply go out and leave her stranded in the dark. Eventually she did manage to scavenge up some metal bracers for her forearms that had wicked spikes running along their exterior. She tried on several other pieces but decided that most of it was simply too damn heavy.

  After finally settling on two small but sturdy swords from one exhibit and a leather jerkin, she felt that she was ready to venture back outside. On the way, she came upon an exhibit of bows. After several failed attempts to even get the string drawn back, she gave up and cast the bow and arrows aside.

  “Looks so easy on the telly,” she sniffed as she returned to the main entrance and grabbed her bags.

  Once she was outside, she dragged her canoe along until she cleared the lock and then resumed her journey. More than once she heard terrible screams unlike anything she’d ever heard in her life. She could not imagine the pain or horror that could induce such sounds. More than once it made her stop paddling as shivers rattled her bones and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

  Eventually, she noticed that she was leaving Leeds behind. Glancing back, she saw so many columns of smoke rising into the sky that the entire city looked like it would burn and leave nothing behind to show that it had ever existed. The thought of it made her sad.

  “How does an entire city burn down?” she asked out loud.

  The sound of her own voice actually startled her and caused her to look around for signs of anything or anybody that might have heard. She saw nothing. In fact, to her right looked to be some sort of massive shipping yard with its huge machinery and giant trucks designed for hauling.

  She could see more than a couple of the undead wandering about, but nothing too worrisome. If only she knew how to drive, she could hop in one of those big trucks and drive to the first castle she could find and start her own kingdom.

&nbs
p; She quickly dismissed that fantasy and looked to the left where the countryside was changing from the closely packed in buildings and residences to open fields. The bridge allowing the M1 to cross over the River Aire loomed and she made a tough choice. While there was a certain degree of safety afforded her by being in the canoe, she had already discovered how difficult it was to carry one around a lock. She had managed to get free of the city; that had been her goal, and it seemed that she’d reached it.

  Paddling for the northern bank, Shadiyah climbed out of the canoe, grabbed her gear, and started into the woods along a narrow trail. She decided that she would not use the motorway. No sense putting herself in unnecessary danger. While it was certainly possible that she could encounter a zombie out in these woods, it was much less likely than if she walked out in the open; that also held true for the living.

  She walked all the rest of that afternoon, keeping the M1 to her left. Late in the day she passed what she believed to be some sort of large farm to her right. Already she could see the plumes of smoke to her right in the distance beyond the farm indicating what was likely one of the suburban towns that surrounded the proper city. Also, just ahead a mile or so and to the left were more signs of the destruction.

  “Bloody fires are everywhere,” she grumbled.

  Looking skyward, she could tell she did not have much time remaining before darkness came on to the point of making travel impossible. She needed to find someplace safe to sleep. Eventually an overpass came into view and she decided to emerge from the woods and fields to see if she might find a good spot to camp for the night.

  She was astounded by the sections of the motorway that were completely open only to eventually become automobile graveyards with cars, trucks and all manner of vehicles jammed in tight and forever silent now that their owners had either abandoned them, or perished inside.

  As soon as she came up to the motorway, she recognized where she had emerged. She was between the town of Garforth and the Parrish of Austhorpe. That revelation was a bit discouraging. She had not travelled all that far to this point.