Zombie Castle Series (Book 3): ZC Three

by Harris, Chris

  The

  Zombie Castle Series

  ZC THREE

  Chris Harris

  COPYRIGHT

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. Any names, characters, incidents and locations portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. No affiliation is implied or intended to any organisation or recognisable body mentioned within.

  Copyright © DHP Publishing 2018

  Chris Harris asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive and non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen or hard copy.

  No part of the text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered or stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, known or otherwise yet invented, without the express permission of DHP Publishing Ltd.

  www.dhppublishing.co.uk

  Cover design by Claire Wood at:

  www.spurwingcreative.co.uk

  Chapter one

  Maud whistled loudly. The noise in the room subsided from the roar of laughter and conversation that had risen in volume as voices rose to be heard over the ever-growing racket.

  We all smiled at the shocked look on Shawn’s friends’ faces as they stared in amazement that such a small and dainty looking old woman could whistle so loudly.

  “This is all well and good, but I have children to feed and if you think I am cooking in that pigsty of a kitchen, you have another think coming.”

  She pointed to Ian.

  “Shawn has told me about you. Apparently, you pride yourself in being the chief troublemaker, so I blame you for it. You have ten minutes to sober up and tidy the kitchen, or you will not be getting any food.”

  Silence descended as the big man looked around for help from his friends, who were staring at anywhere but in his direction. He looked at Maud. Seeing the determination in her face as she stood staring at him, hands on hips, he knew he had no other option and muttered.

  “Yes, Ma’am. Can I take my armour off first, though?”

  “Yes, but get on with it, we haven’t got all day.”

  As soon as he and the others had helped each other remove their cumbersome attire, he dejectedly shuffled off to the kitchen. Soon the rattle of pots and pans being cleared away could be heard, along with quiet muttering and curses.

  Laughing, I spoke up.

  “Right. Now you’ve met the true boss of our little group, we need to plan what our next move is. But first, we should catch up on what’s happened to each other over the past few days.”

  “Too bloody right,” said Dave “Shawn, you bugger off on your own, leaving us to fight our way back here through thousands of zombies. Now you turn up with an armoured tractor, a Volvo that wouldn’t look out of place in a Mad Max movie and everyone’s got assault weapons and pistols. Also, if I am not mistaken, I’m sure I saw a bloody great machine gun being fired earlier. I think that our story isn’t going to be anywhere near as interesting as yours.”

  Maud, once she had approved Ian’s attempt at tidying, bustled around the kitchen making food for everyone from a bag she’d brought with her, as the two groups exchanged their experiences since the outbreak had started.

  Simon and Dave were very interested in the weapons the knights used and the techniques for fighting that they’d adopted and adapted. Both agreed after handling the various axes, maces and swords leaning up against the wall, that with what both groups had learned from their experiences so far, their combined forces would present a formidable power: a combination of the peak of military weaponry design from different millennia, being used collectively to defend themselves from, and destroy enemies they were never designed to fight.

  Shawn’s friends examined and admired the firearms, but as none of them had any real experience in using them, Dave advised that until he could train them in their safe use, something he promised to do at the earliest opportunity, it would be best if they stuck to their medieval weapons.

  They reluctantly agreed to this, but still cast envious glances over them and kept handling them until Dave pointed out that they were loaded and even though they were all ‘safe’, careless handling could result in a negligent discharge, which could result in tragic consequences. The guns got left alone after that.

  Horace took a real shine to Sarah, who giggled as only a small child could as he nuzzled and licked her as she lay in the basket that had become her cot.

  When everyone was hungrily tucking into the stew that Maud had made, I looked at my watch and said we needed to decide soon what we were going to do next. The idea of staying in a city teeming with the undead didn’t seem the sensible thing to do, and as there were still a few hours of daylight left, I was keen for us to get moving again.

  “This church you told us you were planning to head to. How long will it take us to get there?” Simon asked.

  Jamie thought for a moment.

  “Less than half an hour under normal circumstances. We know the way we came is clear of obstructions, and if we come across anything else, such as a pack of zombies, that tractor of yours, as you’ve already told us, will be able to break through. I reckon it should take an hour.” His friends agreed with this estimate.

  We began planning.

  There was no doubt that it was best to use all the vehicles we now had at our disposal. The bus and the van both had different, but essential uses. The obvious ones being that the bus would enable us to accommodate more survivors when we found them, and both could carry a large amount of supplies.

  Not being armoured, they’d also be the most vulnerable, so they’d need to travel in the middle of the convoy, with the tractor leading the way and the Volvo bringing up the rear.

  Dave and Simon worked on a list for a few minutes and then got our attention.

  Dave looked at Shawn’s friends.

  “I’ll need one of you in the trailer to show Shawn the route, so if you can agree who that will be, I’d appreciate it. I’ll put one or two shooters in your vehicles so if we get into trouble, even though I’m sure up close and personal you’ll have no problems defending yourself, having a few guns on board won’t do any harm. If some of you want to travel on the trailer, that would be great because a few extra strong arms on the zombie spears might be a great help. If you can sort that out between yourselves now, I think we should get moving as soon as we can.”

  To their credit, everyone wanted to travel in the trailer, as they realised it was where most of the fighting would probably take place.

  Steve and Jim, as the trained Marines, were allocated to the bus and van respectively. Daniel volunteered to replace Steve in the Volvo while Jamie, Ian and Jon won the argument about who was going in the trailer.

  Working with purpose, it didn’t take long to repack the van and bus and clear the furniture that had been used to block the gaps.

  The children’s excitement at having to climb a ladder and walk across the roof of the bus to reach the safety of the trailer wasn’t marred by the now familiar sight of more undead. They’d gathered outside, attracted by the noise we’d made, and replacing the ones we’d killed earlier.

  The buoyant mood that everyone still felt since the groups had combined was enhanced further by Ian’s attempt to climb the ladder and cross the roof of the bus while wearing his full suit of armour. His weight, along with the weight of the armour he was carrying proved too much for the thin roof, and to everyone’s hilarity, his foot pierced it.

  It took four people, virtually helpless with laughter, and another pushing from underneath t
o pry him free. He eventually crawled ungracefully into the trailer, muttering and cursing about the quality of workmanship these days, but also smiling because he knew if it had happened to someone else, he would be leading the piss-taking.

  Horace wanted to join his new master in the trailer, so instead of climbing aboard the bus, he too, comically tried to climb the ladder, eventually managing through sheer determination and a little help from others dragging and pushing him from behind, and to the delight of the children, he joined Ian in the trailer. He immediately forgot his new master though, as the fuss the children gave him proved a more worthwhile way for him to spend his time.

  It took a few stern warnings about the dangers of the situation we were in to calm everyone down.

  Once extra ammunition and weapons had been passed to Steve in the bus and to Jim in the van, we were ready to leave.

  The starting of all four engines agitated the zombies surrounding the vehicles, as they seemed to realise that the meal they were hoping for was leaving.

  With the passengers brandishing weapons, standing on seats and lining the sides of the trailer, Shawn ploughed the tractor through the throng that had gathered. We followed, setting out on what we hoped would be a short journey to the safety of the church in a small village.

  Thirty people and one dog continued their journey.

  Chapter two

  Travelling closely together, the convoy followed Shawn through the streets of Bristol, spears continually thrusting at the shambling zombies that futilely tried to reach us in the safety of our vehicles.

  Shawn maintained a speed sufficient to smash through every group of the undead that crossed our path. From my position in the rear, I couldn’t see the devastation caused by the plough as it powered through the walls of bodies trying to stop us, but I could see the result. Dismembered and mangled bodies flew through the air; some remained still, but some continued thrashing about as the damaged caused hadn’t destroyed the brain.

  Unable to reach from their vehicles, the passengers in the bus and van were reduced to being mere witnesses to the effectiveness of what we had created.

  As I drove, concentrating on keeping close to the van, I began thinking of how we would armour both the bus and the van. We had the skills and knowledge from what we’d done to my Volvo and the tractor, so the basics were obvious. The van would be easy. Add a wedge to the front and protect the driver’s cab with whatever materials we could find.

  The bus, though, was a different matter. Would we want it to be a transport vehicle or a fighting vehicle? Unless the windows were removed, there would be no way for the occupants to ‘engage’ zombies. Or would it be best to find enough steel mesh to encase it completely so the occupants would be protected, but would have to rely on others to keep the undead away? The bus, fitted with a strong wedge on the front, would have enough power and weight behind it to plough through zombies or to clear obstructions out of the way.

  Up-armouring them needed to be one of our first priorities when we reached a place safe enough for us to do it. I was sure others were also thinking as I was, so most likely after today’s journey, when we’d gained experience of how capable our little convoy was, the answers to my musings would be obvious.

  The extra radios provided by Shawn’s friends made communication between everyone easier. We could listen as Jamie gave Shawn directions and Louise, who was still travelling in the cab with Shawn, informed us all if any obstructions or zombies were ahead.

  Louise’s voice sounded through the radio.

  “Stop, everyone. I saw something on the road we just passed.”

  Bringing up the rear, I’d stopped opposite the road she was talking about. I stood up on my seat and looked down it.

  The road was a small cul-de-sac about one hundred yards long, lined with large post-war semi-detached houses. At the end of the road it widened to create the turning circle that surrounded a small grass island with a tree in the middle. Beyond the island, the front drive of one of the houses was engulfed with a mass of zombies.

  I picked up the radio.

  “Well spotted, Louise. Someone must be in the house down there.”

  I then asked the next question, even though I knew what the answer would be.

  “If there are people down there, is everyone willing to take the risk to rescue them, even though we don’t know them?”

  I smiled as everyone confirmed that they and their travelling companions were more than willing to face the risks involved with trying to rescue others.

  I looked at Dave, who was standing on the seat next to me looking through some binoculars.

  “Your call, pal. Tell us what to do.”

  He looked for a few more seconds through his binoculars.

  “We can’t all drive down there. It’s too narrow, and we’ll most likely block ourselves in like a bunch of idiots. I can see movement from the front first floor window, so I would agree that there’s a good chance we have some live ones in there. The fact they’re not waving and shouting at us may also be a good sign.”

  He paused, but didn’t wait for me to question why before continuing.

  “They must have seen and heard us by now. The fact that they’re not drawing attention to themselves might mean they feel secure but are wary of who we might be. I take that to be a good indication that they’re sensible and not some hysterical snowflake who expects us to fix everything for them.

  “My suggestion is that we send Shawn in first. He can drive round and round the island at the end of the cul-de-sac, pulverising those bastards. We stay here to protect the bus and van until he’s thinned them out enough for us to swap over to finish what he started. Then if he continues to protect the end of the road, with us providing covering fire, the bus can drive down and pick up whoever is in there.”

  I looked at him.

  “Yep, I agree. Let’s get on with it. We need to get to this church of theirs before night falls.”

  Dave quickly issued his instructions through the radio. As soon as Shawn confirmed he understood, he pulled forward, smashing through some front garden fences and hedges to turn his vehicle around, and with his engine roaring loudly, he gained speed as he hurtled down the narrow cul-de-sac.

  I felt briefly concerned as I watched Becky wave at me from the trailer as it sped past. My wife and children were on the trailer that was once again leading the attack against a horde of flesh-eating monsters, while I watched from a distance. It was a catch 22 situation. The trailer was currently the safest zombie-proof vehicle we possessed. It was also the best vehicle we had for attacking them directly. Logically I would want my family as far away from danger as possible, but also in the safest place, and that was not possible.

  At least the occupants of the trailer could bring a lot of firepower to the party.

  Shawn had made his first complete circle of the island before the zombies pressing up against the house started to turn in his direction. They moved towards the fast-moving target that was circling and just tempting them to attack it to get to the tasty flesh their senses told them it contained.

  I was reminded of one of those machines that butchers have for slicing meat. Every pass Shawn made sliced the front from the solid mass of undead meat. The occupants of the trailer could only hold on as the trailer bounced and bumped over the growing pile of offal he was creating. I watched as the tractor under the influence of centrifugal forces lost traction on the slick of destroyed body parts. The trailer was also not dutifully following its master but skidding as its wheels slipped, causing the back of the trailer to smash through the ever-advancing pack. Shawn skilfully corrected the skid and kept the vehicle in a controlled power slide as it sped around the small turning circle.

  Through Dave’s binoculars I could see the smile on his face as he drove around what could only be described as the goriest skid pan ever created.

  The trailer stopped outside the house after one more circle. As soon as it had, its occupants lined its sides and fired on
the ones that had not been caught in the circling maelstrom of steel.

  A call over the radio from Marc in the bus drew our attention away from the tractor.

  “Got some zombies coming.”

  Dave looked along the road and saw a small group heading towards us in the direction we were going. He picked up the radio.

  “Steve, Jim. You can deal with those. Get out of the vehicles and take them down when they’re in range. Everyone else keep a good all-round lookout and call any more sightings.”

  Steve and Jim both stepped from the van and bus respectively and faced the oncoming threat.

  I wasn’t worried, the dozen or so approaching would be no match for the two Marines, but I also was aware that complacency could kill. Every threat needed to be taken deadly seriously.

  Dave had the binoculars pointed back toward the house.

  “The window’s open upstairs. It looks as if they’re talking to them.”

  Louise’s voice came through the radio.

  “The man and woman in the house are ready to come out. They’ll wait for the bus to come down.”

  Dave picked up the radio.

  “Leave Jim and Steve protecting our rear. Marc, get ready to drive the bus down as soon as the trailer’s clear. We’ll lead the way. Stay alert, everyone. Remember you’ve got no guns now on the bus. Do not try anything stupid, we can cover you from the Volvo.

  Shawn, when you’re ready, get back up here and help Jim and Steve protect our backs.”

  Shawn didn’t reply but waited for a final volley of shots from the trailer before he drove towards us at a much more sedate speed than he had entered the cul-de-sac with. As soon as he was clear, I pulled away down the road, Daniel, Chet and Dave standing ready with their weapons.

  Marc reversed the bus back slightly and then drove forwards, following me closely. I stopped outside the house, leaving enough room for the bus to pull on the drive so it could get as close as possible to the front door, where we guessed the occupants would come from, and then I stood on the seat with my weapon held ready.