Ultimate Undead Collection: The Zombie Apocalypse Best Sellers Boxed Set (10 Books)

by Joe McKinney

  #

  Simon didn’t mind hard work. He could cope with an in-tray piled high with papers and a huge queue of customers. None of that bothered him just as long as everyone was pulling his or her weight. He’d happily work until midnight if everyone else worked that late too, but today that just wasn’t happening. He was already annoyed by the number of staff who hadn’t shown for work, but what really irked him was he was the only one actually doing anything.

  It was almost midday. The bank had been slowly filling with customers for the last half-hour. After waiting until almost eleven o’clock before the first customer of the day had appeared, a scruffy bunch of punters had now dragged themselves up the concrete wheelchair access ramp and through the swinging doors. Unsavoury looking types, they hadn’t actually seemed to want anything, and had just wandered up and down on the other side of the glass panel which separated the back-office from the public area. Simon had shouted for them to come to his till. They’d crowded around his position when they heard his voice and had slammed their hands and faces against the glass, but he still didn’t know what it was they actually wanted.

  Behind the counter, absolutely nothing was happening. Simon glanced back over his shoulder occasionally and shook his head with despair. What a bunch of lazy bastards. There he was, trying his best to deal with the public, while they all just sat there and did nothing. Janice hadn’t moved from her computer and Tom was still on the floor. Statham – inexperienced, overpaid and bloody useless in Simon’s opinion – was still pacing up and down in his office. None of them had lifted a damn finger to help him all morning.

  Usually he could take it. Usually he would just stand at his till and stew in silence or find a reason to disappear off to the stationery room and hide there for as long as he could, but today was different. Today it wasn’t that the others were doing very little, they were doing absolutely nothing. Simon wasn’t going to let them take advantage of him any longer. He’d had enough. Maybe it was the way his family had been treating him which pushed him over the edge? Or the deteriorating state of the country? Or was it the fact that even the customers in the banking hall (and there were many more of them now) were ignoring him too? He couldn’t go on like this: no heat or light, no computers or telephone, and not even any money in his bloody till. The balance had been tipped and it was time to do something about the situation, once and for all. For the first time in as long as he could remember he was ready to stand up for himself and speak his mind.

  ‘Staff meeting,’ he announced. The bodies in the banking hall responded to his voice and pushed themselves against the glass, desperately inquisitive. A short distance away, Brian Statham’s body also threw itself against the door of its office. Unperturbed, Simon slid his ‘till closed’ sign into position and locked his drawers. ‘I want a staff meeting right now,’ he demanded. ‘I’ve had enough of this.’

  Simon flung the door of the manager’s office open and Statham’s body lurched towards him. ‘We need to talk, Brian,’ he said as he shoved the decaying bank manager back into the room and blocked the way out with a desk. ‘Things just can’t go on like this. I’ll get the others.’

  Feeling strangely empowered, Simon went back out into the main office. He grabbed Janice Phelps’ shoulder and peeled her off her computer, then tipped her back on her swivel chair and wheeled her through to the manager’s room. Tom Compton was a little more awkward. He put his arms under the dead man’s shoulders, dragged him along the floor, and dumped him into one of the padded customer chairs on the other side of the office. He was bloody heavy. Simon had to use all his strength to get him in and sit him down.

  With Statham trapped behind his desk and the other two now in position, Simon took the floor. ‘You all know me pretty well,’ he began, trembling with nerves and hoping the others couldn’t tell. ‘I’m a reasonable man and I’ll do whatever’s expected of me.’ He paused and looked at the lifeless faces surrounding him. The ignorant bastards weren’t even listening. He continued regardless. ‘We’ve all got a role to play here. Now in the past you might have thought you were better than me and that your jobs were more important than mine, but I want to put things straight. We’re all small cogs in a much bigger machine.’ He paused again, pleased with the cliché he’d just used. ‘Without me none of you would be able to do your jobs properly. Without me this branch wouldn’t function.’

  Simon stopped to let the enormity of his words sink in. Almost on cue Tom’s body slid off its chair, its head thudding against the wall on the way down. Simon, thrown off his stride momentarily, seethed with anger. He picked up the corpse and shoved it back onto its seat. ‘You see,’ he yelled, finding it hard to keep his temper in check, ‘that’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about. You all think it’s funny, don’t you? You think you can all have a good laugh at my expense. Well you can’t, not anymore. I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of being the butt of all your stupid bloody jokes and having to do all the donkey work. It’s not fair, and it’s going to stop.’

  Statham’s corpse became increasingly animated as Simon raised his voice. The others failed to respond. Their lack of reaction incensed him.

  ‘How dare you?’ he screamed. ‘How dare you treat me like this? Show some respect, will you? I’ve been working flat out all morning while you’ve been sat on your backsides doing nothing. If I stopped working, this place would grind to a halt. Well, things are going to change round here. I’m not going to carry you anymore, do you hear me? From now on you’re on your own.’

  Still nothing.

  Simon grabbed Janice Phelps by the scruff of her neck and screamed into her green-tinged face. ‘Are you even listening to me?’

  Janice wasn’t, but the other bodies in the banking hall clearly were. The dead hordes began to beat their rotting fists against the walls, driven wild by the desperate man’s voice. Simon ignored them as best he could. ‘There’s not a lot that any of us can do today, not until the power comes back on,’ he continued, now fractionally calmer. ‘I’m going to shut the branch and I suggest we all go home. We’ll come back tomorrow morning and try again, okay?’

  He looked around the room but no one said anything. The hammering on the wall behind him continued unabated.

  Simon remained standing in the middle of the manager’s office for a moment, surrounded by his dead colleagues, and he realised he actually felt a little better. The others hadn’t agreed with him but, unusually, they hadn’t banded together and turned against him either. More importantly, he’d just taken a managerial decision and no one had argued. Could it be that he was about to be shown some respect? Had the rest of them finally realised just how important he was to this branch and to the company? Bloody hell, he thought, maybe he should try the same approach when he got back home tonight? Maybe he could make his family listen too?

  ‘I’m going to lock up,’ he said, his voice cocksure and uncharacteristically strong.

  Simon still had the key in his pocket from when he’d opened up hours earlier. Brimming with unexpected confidence he stepped over the outstretched feet of Tom’s body (he’d slid off the chair again) and left the manager’s room. He walked through the back-office to the security door which separated the staff area from the customers. Security conscious and procedure-driven as always, he peered through the fish-eye lens viewing hole before going through.

  Bloody hell, the banking hall was full of customers now. Now this was how it should be on a Monday. With no computers working and no cash in his till he couldn’t serve any of them of course, so he’d just have to go out and make an announcement. He’d tell the customers what was going to happen in exactly the same way he’d just told the staff. He was getting pretty damn good at taking charge.

  A deep breath and he opened the door. A huge mass of rotting flesh immediately surged towards him. Oblivious to the danger, Simon pushed deeper into the crowd, wading through, fighting to keep moving forward as the dead pushed against him.

  ‘If I could
have your attention for a second please, ladies and gentlemen,’ he shouted, struggling to stay upright. Another wave of decaying corpses came at him from the general direction of the main entrance and knocked him off-balance. He was being pushed further back into the building and he reached out to try and steady himself. The movement of the bodies backed him up against the wooden counter. He climbed up onto the other side of his till position and stood tall above the crowd. Before trying to speak again he brushed himself down. He was covered in stains from the customers. He picked bits of them off his shirt and tie.

  ‘Now look,’ he shouted, ‘I’m sorry but we’ve got some problems here today. Our computer systems are down and staff shortages mean that we’ve not been able to get into the safe. I apologise for any inconvenience, but I’m going to have to ask you all to leave. If you’d like to come back tomorrow morning I’m sure we’ll be able to…’

  Another forward surge from the crowd distracted him. The sound of his voice seemed to be generating plenty of interest and the bank was filling up now instead of emptying. More and more customers were trying to get inside. The situation was getting out of hand.

  ‘Please listen. I realise this is unusual and I understand you’ve all been inconvenienced, but I do need your cooperation. There really is nothing more I can do for you today. Come back tomorrow when I’ll be more than happy to help…’

  But they still weren’t listening. Even more people were coming into the building. Simon couldn’t stand it when people didn’t listen to him. ‘Let’s have some respect here,’ he yelled, shouting at the top of his voice again to make sure even the people still struggling to get inside could hear him. ‘A little common-sense, please…’

  Simon had gradually edged further and further along the counter. He now found himself at the far end of the banking hall, opposite the doors he’d originally come out here to close. Between him and the other end of the long, narrow space was a mass of at least a hundred furious customers. He looked down into the faces of the nearest few. Christ, they looked riled. If he wasn’t careful this situation might turn nasty. He banged on the wall behind him, hoping one of the others in the manager’s room would come and help, none of them did. The staff meeting which he’d called seemed now to be continuing in his absence.

  ‘Could I have a hand out here please,’ he shouted, watching anxiously as another wave of bodies attempted to cram themselves into the already tightly-packed building. ‘Tom, Brian… could one of you come and—’

  His words were abruptly cut short when several of the corpses, with nowhere else to go, reached up for him. One of them managed to catch hold of his grubby bank uniform trousers. He tried to pull away but lost his footing and slipped down from the counter, falling into the bodies like a bizarre middle-aged crowd surfer at a concert. Fearing for his safety, he covered his head with his hands and curled up into a ball. Then, crawling on his hands and knees across the heavily stained terracotta carpet, he began to move, weaving between the decomposing feet which surrounded him. For a fraction of a second he wondered if he should try to help get the others out, but he knew he couldn’t go back. It was too late. The momentary flickering flame of defiance which had burned briefly today had been extinguished just as quickly as it had been lit. Terrified, he closed his eyes and kept pushing forward, working his way around the bodies. He accidentally knocked a handful of them down and they fell into each other like dominos, only to be trampled by others. He kept on moving, forcing himself forward inch by painfully slow inch until he was level with the front door of the bank. Should he try and stand up to close and lock it? Hating himself for being so weak, Simon instead kept on crawling until he was out of the building, and had made it down the ramp and onto the street. The crowd slightly thinner there, he picked himself up and started to run, glancing back at the overrun bank before sprinting home.

  #

  Ten o’clock. A half-eaten can of cold baked beans and three-quarters of a bottle of whiskey later.

  The house was silent, save for the occasional thump from Matthew, who really should have been in bed by now. Simon sat alone in darkness at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. He couldn’t stop thinking about the events of the day now ending. It was bad enough that he’d left the bank wide open and abandoned his colleagues, but that wasn’t the worst of it. For a moment back there, he’d actually felt like somebody. It had felt good. It had felt damn good. But he’d been brought back down to earth with a bang. He was still a nobody. A forty-seven year old stationery clerk and cashier with no prospects, a family that had virtually disowned him, and an increasingly uncertain future. Maybe he should accept the hand that had been dealt him and just get on with it? Stick with what you know, that had always been one of his late father’s favourite sayings. Don’t take risks and don’t take chances. We’re not all made for great things. The world will always need the little men too. Stick with what you know.

  Simon got up and walked out into the hallway, dragging his feet. He paused to look out at the crowd of bodies at the end of his drive before climbing the stairs to bed, a final generous tumbler of whiskey in hand. He undressed, put his dirty shirt in the washing basket with all the others, then put on his pyjamas. He could still hear Jamie banging around in his bedroom. Bloody teenagers. He should be resting or studying. One day my son, he thought, all these problems will be yours. If only he knew what he had to put up with every day. His attitude would soon change if he was the one who had to face the daily indignities and humiliations of office politics. Christ, he hoped Jamie didn’t make the same mistakes he had. If he’d worked harder at school and not just taken the first job he’d been offered after leaving, maybe things would have been different. Then again, maybe not.

  No point dwelling on all that now, he thought as he climbed into bed beside June. She had her back to him, still in the same position as he’d left her this morning. She hadn’t done the washing or the shopping. In fact, it looked like she’d spent another day in bed. Bloody hell, she didn’t know how easy she had it.

  He wrapped his arm around his wife’s rapidly putrefying torso and pulled her close. He wished she’d talk to him. He didn’t want to go to sleep yet. He wanted someone to listen to his problems and tell him he was doing his best, that it was the rest of them who’d got it wrong. But June wasn’t interested, and the silence was deafening.

  Simon felt humiliated and let down by everyone, even those closest to him. He’d tried so hard today but, ultimately, all he’d done was make matters worse. Christ, how was he going to face them all at work tomorrow?

  BEGINNING TO DISINTEGRATE

  Part iv

  ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,’ Jas said, leaning over the front seats of the van. Hollis was behind the wheel, Harte and Gordon beside him. Jas was in the back with his bike and as much food and drink as they’d been able to load up from the supermarket before the swollen crowds of bodies around the building had forced them out.

  ‘I’m serious,’ Gordon said. ‘I know this isn’t the nicest of spots, but it’s got everything you said we were looking for.’

  ‘They were in the middle of knocking the bloody place down. Doesn’t that tell you something?’

  They’d stopped on a stretch of road overlooking a huge and particularly ugly-looking block of flats. More accurately, the one remaining huge and particularly ugly-looking block. Next to it, an enormous pile of rubble and a half-demolished neighbour. Further down the hill, a masonry-strewn space where, until recently, a third block had obviously stood.

  ‘They were knocking it down,’ Hollis said, ‘but they’re dead. It looks strong enough to me. For the record, I think you might be onto something here, Gordon. It might not be The Ritz, but it does have its advantages.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Safety, security, difficult to access… do I need to go on?’

  ‘Yes,’ Jas said, still not convinced.

  Hollis sighed and flicked on the wipers to clear the glass and get a better vie
w. A lone corpse buzzed around the outside of the van.

  ‘Much as I hate to admit this, Gord,’ Harte said, ‘I think you might be right. This place is good. There’s gonna be plenty of space in there, and it’s only a stop-gap, isn’t it? Once things settle down again we can move on.’

  Hollis chuckled to himself. ‘Once things settle down again! Bloody idiot. You make me laugh, Harte. Ever the bloody optimist.’

  ‘And look at the geography of the place,’ Gordon said. ‘It’s on a hill.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Two things. First, I know we don’t know a lot about what’s going on right now, but one thing we do know is the dead still obey the laws of physics, don’t they?’

  ‘What are you on about?’ Jas grumbled.

  ‘Think about it… the bodies will have no trouble falling, but they’ll have real problems trying to get back up.’

  ‘He’s got a point,’ Hollis said, sounding more surprised than he should have.

  ‘I said I’d got two points, actually,’ Gordon continued, indignant. ‘Being up on a hill like this means it’ll be easy for other people to see us too, doesn’t it? If we get some lights in the windows, that kind of thing, anyone else will see us for miles around.’

  It pained him to admit it, but Jas knew he was right. More than that, he knew he was outnumbered. ‘So if we are going to stay here, we’re going to need to make sure it’s completely clear, right?’

  ‘Right,’ Harte said.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Hollis asked.

  Jas leant forward again and pointed to the general area around the base of the apartment block. ‘We need to get that space cleared and barricade it as soon as we’re done. Make a fucking noise, draw out the dead, then kick ‘em down to the bottom of the hill and block ourselves in.’

  ‘And how are you planning on doing that?’

  ‘I’ll use the bike. You watch me, mate. I’ll be like the fucking Pied Piper out there.’