DEAD: Snapshot (Book 2): Leeds, England

by TW Brown

  She stood at the door long enough for the sweat to bead up on the back of her neck and trickle down between her shoulder blades. At last, she reached inside and turned the knob. Opening the door, she once again froze after stepping on the broken glass,

  “Everything seems so bloody loud,” she whispered, not surprised that even her own whispers sounded thunderous.

  Creeping down the entry hall, she was happy that this place had an abundance of windows. It made seeing marginally easier, although there were still plenty of shadows to contend with once she arrived where the kitchen was set off from the living room. Unfortunately, the stink of rotten food was mixing with the smell of death and the stench of undeath as she drew nearer.

  There was a small island counter blocking her view, and Shadiyah could not see any way to get to the much desired cupboards and pantry without wading in. Finally, she took a step towards the corner, her scimitar thrust out in front of her.

  Just before she was able to see, she could hear the sounds of ripping and juicy slurping. Peeking around, what she saw froze her in her tracks for a few seconds. The worst part of that was that her eyes would not look away from what lay on the floor between the oven and that island counter.

  The child could not be any older than seven or eight. He was kneeling over a young girl in her teens, a look of terror and pain still etched on her dead face with its glassy eyes staring up at oblivion. There were a few bites on her arms, and one of her fingers was missing on the left hand. However, it was the fact that this little boy was reaching into a horrendous rip in the young girl’s belly that was so revolting.

  Shadiyah took another step forward and her foot struck a small kitchen knife and sent it spinning lazily across the floor where it came to a sudden stop when it connected with the folded under leg of the little boy. It turned its head her direction and seemed to consider her for a few seconds. Then, in a reaction that stunned Shadiyah, it hunched back down over the corpse it was still feeding on and resumed its grisly meal.

  “You are a nasty little boy,” Shadiyah breathed.

  She raised her scimitar and then stopped when the boy pulled away and the girl started to move. She was fascinated. It was as if the zombie had suddenly and completely lost interest in what it was eating. At least now she knew that they did not feed on each other; not that the thought had ever occurred, but she now had proof.

  The boy started to stir, but he was not coming for her! Instead, the boy made his way to his feet allowing Shadiyah to see fully the nasty rip on his throat that had obviously been his end. He began to actually back away from her. She was torn, part of her simply wanted to let the boy go if that was his desire. She was about to when the girl rolled over, some of her insides spilling onto the floor as she did so. This one was acting just like any other zombie, to whit, it was obviously coming for her. With one swift stroke, the girl’s head was split almost perfectly down the part and in line with her hair which had been pulled out in braids on each side of her head.

  That action apparently did not sit well with the boy. Like somebody had flicked a switch, the boy came for her, arms out and hands reaching. With one swift jab, she drove her blade through the left eye of the young lad and put him at rest beside what Shadiyah guessed might have been his sister.

  She had to move the bodies just a bit to get at the large refrigerator with stainless steel french doors. She took a deep breath and held it as she opened. It was empty of most anything useful, and the stench was such that she did not care to try and pick through for anything she could actually use. She wondered how much longer it would be before hunger changed her opinion on that matter.

  Closing the doors, she moved to the pantry. It was a large walk-in type with shelves lined and neatly organized. She felt a tingle in her stomach and wondered if this is what a person felt at a casino when they hit a jackpot. She used her booted foot to push aside an entire case of bottled water as she rummaged about.

  As she opened this jar and that, sampling olives, pickles, and all sorts of tasty treats, she began to consider the possibility that this place might become hers. From what she had seen, it had a good wall out front. If the back of the property was as secure, there might be no reason for her to leave.

  You need to tell Simon about his sister, a voice called from some distant part of her mind.

  After she had eaten enough to actually make her feel a bit overfull, she exited the pantry. She told herself that she would need to dispose of the bodies right away, but first, she would do a walkabout. There was a second floor, and then there was the rear of the property.

  She went up the stairs, her weapon ready for anything. Each step brought her a bit closer to relaxing as the smell from downstairs began to fade. She went to one of the open rooms and felt a renewed sense of sorrow. It was probably the little boy’s room. The wall was adorned with posters of rugby players and the bedspread was dark blue with a smiling robot face grinning up at the ceiling.

  She crossed to the window, moving a few toy cars out of the way as well as a pair of cleats caked with dried mud. When she pulled the curtains open, she could not help but let out a little scream.

  10

  Settling In

  “They brought this down on us!” a voice yelled from the midst of the increasingly unruly mob.

  “No!” Simon bellowed. “This did not start in your little village. You saw the news. It is everywhere. Japan went dark in a matter of hours with almost no warning. China followed and all of Asia. India did not last a week past that, and the Americans fared little better despite the bloody bastards all having guns hanging in the rear window of their pickup trucks.”

  There was a noticeable lessening in the grumbles and angry whistles and catcalls from the people gathered in the school auditorium. Simon glanced over at Geoff who gave a slightly perceptible nod. Mrs. Raye was beside him and boosted his confidence with a thumbs-up.

  “What we need to do now is come together and do all we can to survive. The big cities are gone. Leeds, Birmingham, Liverpool…even London has fallen to this. There are now thousands of those things…the walking dead…wandering about, and if we waste our energy fighting each other, we will be joining those ranks before too long. And I can tell you from experience, the zombies are only part of the problem.”

  Simon scanned the crowd and spotted Cedric in their midst. The man was standing with the group of hunters he went out with now on a regular basis. The man indicated that he wanted to actually join Simon up on the stage. Despite his deep-seated resentment towards the man, he gave a nod and waved for Cedric to come up and join him.

  “Hey, most of you don’t know me,” the former detective said by way of introduction, “but I was in Leeds during those final days. Some of the things that I saw committed by one man against another would likely sicken many of you. Believe me when I say that there will be trials ahead. Just recently we have come across what can only be described as ritualistic killings.

  “Our hunting group has been ranging west towards the outskirts of Garforth as we have switched roles and are now seeking potential supply resources. Just yesterday, we encountered something that was more than a little disturbing.” Cedric paused and glanced over at Simon.

  There was something in his expression that almost seemed as if the man was asking for permission to continue. Simon gave a shrug and then a nod for the man to go ahead.

  “Some of you may or may not be aware of what might be a military detachment in the area.” This statement received an immediate tremor of response in the crowd, and then a series of shushing noises as the interest level in this topic was obviously high. “We have reason to believe that there is indeed a rogue detachment of the British Army in the area committing heinous acts against small groups of survivors. While they would certainly have us in a bind when it comes to armament, I believe that we would be able to withstand an attack as long as we are united.”

  Mrs. Raye stepped away from Geoff and made her way up to what was now becoming a
crowded little stage. That absolutely silenced the gathering, and Simon saw a few confused faces staring up now as the older woman stepped to the front of the stage and stood for a moment with her hands clasped in front of her like a school marm waiting for her class to come to order.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, none of you know me. I am a stranger to these parts, but I want to assure you that my little group did see a Foxhound just north of Garforth. We also spotted at least five individuals hanging from a makeshift gallows. While there could be any number of reasons for what we witnessed, there was something rather unsettling about the scene that led not only me, but your newly assigned constable to feel a sense of unease. I have no idea what quarrel you may think you have with the other residents of this little town, but we are at a distinct advantage if we band together.

  “I have been out there in what is fast becoming a wasteland of death, and I can tell you that most survivors are in singles or very small groups. Our numbers may be the key to survival, and the more we have, the better it will be in the end.”

  Mrs. Raye stepped over to the edge of the stage by where Geoff stood and accepted his hand to help her down. Simon started and moved to the front of the stage again after glancing at Cedric who apparently had nothing else to say.

  “I say we arrange for a meeting and bring the people down in New Mick up here and into the fold. There won’t be any wind turbine towers now, so that should no longer be an issue. Let bygones be bygones and move forward. We have a trench to dig, farms that need planting, and a hundred things that we have not even begun to consider that require our full attention.” Simon saw heads starting to nod. “So, I need four people to join me in heading down to speak with the people down in New Micklefield and try to convince them to join us.”

  There was a moment’s pause, and then a few dozen arms shot up in the air. Right or wrong, Simon decided to choose a few familiar faces. He pointed out Nelson Wilbanks, Melena Duff, Dawn Spengler, and Kas Asan.

  “Everybody get your gear and meet me back here at the school in an hour,” Simon said after the crowd had dispersed.

  “I think we need to talk before we head down there,” Melena spoke after receiving nods from the others that Simon had selected.

  “What about?” Simon did not like the looks he was seeing on the faces staring back at him.

  “Word is that some of the folks down in New Mick are trying to protect loved ones that have been turned,” Nelson growled. “They refuse to accept that those things are the dead come back. They insist that it is just some sort of sickness and that there has to be a way to get them back to normal.”

  “This just keeps getting better,” Simon groaned.

  Less than an hour later, everybody was gathered in front of the school. Mrs. Raye and Cedric were present as well, along with Geoff and a few of the citizens that apparently made up the village council. Simon had his mace and also managed to acquire a pretty nice machete from Melena that was unexpectedly heavy.

  “The walk there and back should not take long,” Geoff said once everybody had gathered around. “If you have not returned by sunset, we will assume there is a serious problem, and I can assure you that there will be a contingent of us coming to see what has gone wrong.”

  That little reassurance was rather comforting to Simon. While he did not actually expect some sort of attack on him and the others, it was good to know that there was help on the way if something did go awry.

  After a few handshakes, hugs, and slaps on the back, Simon and his four companions were heading south on the Great North Road. It ran in a lazy S-shaped set of curves which kept the visibility somewhat limited. They passed a series of barrel halves that had been converted to planters leading up to a roadside bench. Simon had to wonder how often people actually availed themselves to coming out here and simply taking a seat beside the road for no other reason than to watch life and time creep slowly past.

  The road began a gradual ascent and it was not long before Nelson could be heard breathing a bit harder than normal. This earned a few jabs and giggles from Dawn, but Nelson refused to be baited, and the girl quickly lost interest in the teasing, falling in beside Melena who was busy trying to look every direction at once.

  Up ahead, they could see the first turn-in for a residence. Just beyond was a handmade barricade of posts and what looked like the bannister to a flight of stairs. Anchoring the scene were a pair of metal fifty gallon drums with the waning tendrils of smoke that indicated fires had burned in them recently.

  Just past the second turn-in were a pair of people hunched in close in some sort of conversation that looked to be somewhat serious as one of them kept throwing their arms up in the air and shaking his or her head emphatically. The second person eventually grabbed the other by the arms and barked something with enough force for the words. “AS I SAID!” to be heard by Simon and his group.

  Simon raised his hand for the group to halt. Whatever the pair were conversing about, it was intense enough so that they did not seem to realize that they had gained an audience. The two supposed sentries continued on for several seconds until at last Nelson cleared his throat in an exaggerated manner which caused the two men (as it was revealed when they both jump and spun to face the intruders) to start and begin fumbling for their weapons. One of them had what looked like a rather unwieldy axe; while it certainly looked impressive at first glance, Simon guessed that it would be effective for one swing at best. The other had a more conventional weapon in the form of a simple field machete.

  “What’s the meaning of sneaking up on people like that?” the man with the axe bellowed.

  This individual was rotund and looked as if he might be more comfortable behind a bank teller’s window than out in the open with layers of heavy clothing that made him sweat in great rivulets that ran down his plump face. His dark, beady eyes were wide, but Simon knew the difference between fear and ferocity; and this person, while trying to sound belligerent, was obviously more afraid than anything else.

  The second man had a much cooler demeanor and was giving every member of Simon’s group a good look as if he might be trying to determine who would be the biggest threat when things got ugly. He was rather plain looking in most regards, except for his hair being dyed a dazzling shade of cerulean blue.

  “My name is Simon Wood. I have come to talk to your people on behalf of the other citizens of Micklefield.” Simon wanted to set the tone by refusing to acknowledge the New Micklefield/Old Micklefield division.

  “You that bloke who let our Charlie go free?” the blue-haired man spoke up, putting his weapon in a leather sheath that he wore on a studded harness that looked like it had been stolen from some bondage fanatic’s bedroom.

  “If Charlie is the man caught trying to steal from the food stores at the school, then yes, I am the one who let him go free.”

  The man with blue hair smiled big, displaying an almost comically bad set of teeth. “Charlie is my brother. My name is Linus Goodkind.”

  “Charlie and Linus?” Nelson muttered under his breath. “Do they have sisters named Lucy or Sally…or perhaps a beagle named Snoopy?”

  Simon ignored the remark and started to close the distance and meet the now exuberant Linus Goodkind halfway. The man was perhaps in his early twenties, and his face still showed a losing battle with acne. He had blue eyes and fair skin that hinted at Danish blood. In addition, he was a bit broader in the shoulders now that Simon saw the man close up.

  “Thank you so much for not letting those Old Mick buggers kill my Charlie. He was just trying to take care of his family.” Linus ignored his companion who was clearly not happy about this exchange taking place.

  “Yes, well that is fine, but I am here on very urgent business,” Simon said, having to work to free his hand from the pumping it was still suffering at the hands of the exuberant Linus.

  “If it is business on behalf of those Old Micks, you can forget it,” the rotund man huffed as he waddled up to be a part of the conversation
. “We won’t be having any dealings with them after what has been done.”

  “Really?” Simon turned his attention to the man and gave him his coldest glare. “So you are all prepared and ready for this zombie apocalypse then? No need to band together with your fellow man and all that. So I take it you are not only fully prepared to deal with the zombies, but also to take on the rogue army unit that is prowling these parts.”

  “See, Rawlings, I keep tellin’ ya that thems is zombies, but you lot keep insisting they have some sort of Egyptian Flu,” Linus exclaimed, pointing at the round man who was now turning a bit pink in the face.

  “You heathens can spout on about this being some fantastic bit of fiction—” Rawlings bellowed, but Simon cut him off.

  “Stop being such idiots. You can’t deny what has been seen not only most likely by your own eyes, but also shown on the BBC and all over the bloody internet before it crashed and burned or overloaded, or whatever it is that internets do when several billion people all try to use it at once.” He put his hands up to keep Nelson from advancing on the man and then continued. “Saying something is not so does not negate the situation.”

  “And by that logic, speaking it does not simply will it into existence,” Rawlings retorted. “Now, you have our thanks for sending poor Charlie home, but that is where our gratitude and hospitality end, I’m afraid.”

  With that, the man spun on his heel and began to stomp away. Linus seemed confused and uncertain, looking first at the back of his companion who was making haste obviously to alert the rest of the residents, and then back at Simon and the others. He switched from one foot to the other and it became apparent to Simon that perhaps the man was a bit dim. Still, he had to do what he could.