None of us uttered a word. What could be said that the view hadn’t already told us? It confirmed that this thing was happening everywhere and not just contained to our own little corner of hell. You can’t help but be filled with an overwhelming sense of doom when your vision is filled with such destruction.
A few minutes of this apocalyptic view was enough and we returned to the car. Dave drove for another two minutes to my brother’s house which occupied a lowered position on Weston Road. Outside the house there was an old rusted gate in the small stone wall followed by steep steps which took you to the front door of the large detached property.
Dave parked the Thunderbird.
“There you go Ace, it might have taken us all day but we’re here,” Dave said.
“Do you think he’s waiting for us Dad?” Emily asked.
“If I know your uncle, he’ll have been expecting us since this thing started. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s pissed it took us this long to get here. Oh, and by the way, he won’t be expecting anyone else but me and Emily so it’s best if we go first. We don’t need any more accidental deaths now do we?” I said with my eyes firmly fixed on Jonathon.
“I can’t say I’m warming to your brother Ace. Are you sure he’s ok? He doesn’t exactly sound stable,” Dave said.
“Don’t worry Dave, as long as he sees me and Emily first everything will be fine. He’s ok, really. As for stable? That one’s up for debate,” I said.
We began our walk down the long steep steps to my brother’s house, overgrown weeds and bushes making visibility difficult in the quickly disappearing daylight.
I led the way, followed by Emily, Dave and then the uncharacteristically quiet and sluggish Jonathon, the death of Rod playing heavily on his mind. Slowly we moved forward as I stiffly hobbled down the steps. I had swallowed several strong painkillers liberated from the medical centre and they had thankfully started to take effect, dulling the pain in my back to a bearable ache, but my movement was slow and every step towards the house brought us closer to an overpowering smell of death.
I could no longer move my legs no matter how hard I willed them to. All I had in this world was Emily and my brother and I feared something terrible had happened to Butty.
Dave walked past me, pushing aside the over grown shrubbery before disappearing down the remainder of the steps and into the undergrowth.
“Ace! You might want to come and look at this,” he shouted through the vegetation.
Emily grabbed my arm and helped me forward as we joined Dave at the front of the house.
“You know you said whether your brother is sane or not is up for debate? Well I think now’s the time for that debate lar,” Dave said.
Every window to my brother’s house was boarded up and nailed below every frame was an undead limb. Hands, feet, legs and arms all covered my brother’s house. As if that wasn’t disturbing enough, five wooden spikes had been hammered into the ground blocking his front door. On top of the spikes were the decaying rancid heads of zombies.
Butty was alive and he was a fucking genius!
I wandered to the side of my brother’s house where he had constructed a make shift work station. A saw and an axe lay on blood stained and gut covered plastic sheets. This was obviously where my brother had cut up the zombies before nailing their chopped up body parts to the house. Oh, and placing their heads on spikes, let’s not forget that! This was a brutal but brilliant idea. Butty had realised that what the zombies lacked in co-ordination, speed and brain power, they more than made up for with their sense of smell. My brother had figured this out and took steps to mask his own fleshy scent.
“Get fucked!”
“Who said that?” Dave asked, looking around to see where the aggressive voice came from.
“Get fucked!”
“Did you hear that? It’s not just me is it? Someone is definitely telling us to get fucked?” Dave asked again.
“Yeah I heard it. I can’t see anyone though,” Jonathon replied.
“Get fucked!”
I knew who it was and so did Emily. Returning from the Devil’s workshop I joined Dave and the others at the front of the house.
Emily and I looked at each other and we both exchanged a massive smile.
“Butty! Open the bloody door will you? It’s been a shitter of a day,” I yelled.
“John?” my brother shouted.
Wooden panels broke away from a window on the first floor and my brother’s face, completely covered in military camouflage make-up, peeped out.
“Where the fuck have you been and who the fuck have you brought with you?” my brother asked, obviously delighted to see me.
“Nice to see you too commando. This is my friend Dave and that’s Jonathon, he’s Emily’s err, boyfriend,” I explained.
“Ah yes, Jonathon. Nice to meet you finally,” Butty said, offering Jonathon a thumbs up.
“Nice to meet you too Mr Diant,” Jonathon replied.
“Fuck off with the Mr Diant will you. Call me Butty like every bastard else. Emily’s told me so much about you I feel I know you already. How’s things Emily love? Managed to keep your dad alive I see.” Butty said.
“You told your Uncle Butty about Jonathon but you couldn’t tell me?” I asked Emily who replied by shrugging her shoulders.
Teenagers!
“Are you going to come down from there and open the door? It’s freezing out here and I’m getting a little too familiar with the heads on these spikes,” I said.
“No can do little brother. The whole ground floor is out of commission. You’ll have to come to me,” Butty said, lowering a rope ladder from the window.
Dave, Emily and then Jonathon climbed the rope ladder first. I wasn’t looking forward to it in the slightest and was quite happy for everyone else to go before me. Heights were not my thing and even though the climb to my brother’s window was only small, it still filled me with dread.
Now it was my turn. I hate rope ladders. The way they swing when you climb, the way the rope dips when you place your foot on the step… everything!
“Come on John, get your arse into gear, you’re letting a draft in here,” Butty shouted down.
“Sod it,” I thought to myself as I jumped on the rope ladder in an attempt to climb it as fast as I could, my thought being that if I did it quickly, I would be up there and through the window before my brain figured out I had left the ground.
Bad idea!
I got half way up and froze, petrified as the ladder started to sway back and forth. To make matters worse, my head was level with a zombie foot my brother had nailed to the wall and due to the rope ladder swinging, a rotting big toe kept prodding me in the forehead.
“Come on John, best foot forward!” my brother shouted.
I looked up to see his big crazy grin peering back at me.
“You’re not funny you know?” I moaned.
“I thought that was pretty good considering the circumstances. It’s no small ‘feet’ climbing that ladder,” Butty replied, struggling not to laugh through the remainder of his sentence.
Did I tell you how amusing my brother can be? No? Didn’t think so.
I dug down deep and climbed the ladder, joining my brother and the others in the house. Once inside Butty quickly secured the window with more wood and nails.
We were stood inside what used to be a spare room, used mostly for storing my brother’s enormous video collection. It was still a storage room only instead of Butty’s library of 1980s action films it was now wall to wall with tins of spam.
Spam, spam, spam everywhere I turned!
“You know, I think it has been years since I last laid eyes on a tin of spam and now I know why. You’ve been stock piling them all.” I said to my brother as he finished nailing the last plank of wood over the window.
“Well whilst everyone else has been sat at home watching Britain’s Got The Kill Me Now Factor and tucking into their microwavable horse meat lasagnes I’ve been get
ting ready for the apocalypse haven’t I? You would have known if you’d have picked up your bloody phone. I’ve been trying to call you for the last five days,” my brother said.
“It was half term, you know the score. Emily and me together for the whole week just father and daughter - no phone calls and no interference. But you could have texted me, I would have seen it or just called round.” I explained.
“Don’t do texting, my fingers are too fat. If I had tried to text you then what was meant to read ‘John call me’ would have come through as ‘Jolly colander member’ or something just as ridiculous. And I’ve been too busy preparing this place to go anywhere. I knew you’d come here anyway. I’ve been telling you for years that in the event of an apocalypse come to my house. I just thought you’d get here quicker that’s all. Where have you been?” Butty asked.
“Well Dave and I were in work this morning when our boss tried to eat us. As soon we realised what was happening we picked Emily and Jonathon up from school and came here,” I explained.
“Hang on a minute, you only realised what was going on this morning? I do wonder sometimes if we are actually related or if there was some kind of mix up at the hospital and mum and dad brought home the wrong baby. Don’t you watch the news or go on the internet? There have been reports of a super plague spreading from Russia on every channel. Obviously the people turning into zombies bit was left out of the reports but it wasn’t difficult to figure out. The governments of the world have been trying to keep it under wraps hoping they could contain it without causing a mass panic. Didn’t work did it? I told you this day would come; I’ve been telling people for years. Everyone thought I was crazy but look at me now!” Butty said, his arms wide with a manic filled grin on his face.
“Butty, you’re in full camouflage gear grinning like a Cheshire cat in a room surrounded by tins of spam, in a house that you’ve covered in zombie limbs. Whether you are crazy or not isn’t in doubt,” I replied.
“What’s the deal with that by the way, the zombie parts?” Dave said, lighting another cigarette.
“Ah a fellow smoker! Dave it was wasn’t it?” Butty said, extending his arm out for a handshake.
“That’s right Ace, nice to meet you. Don’t listen to John. It’s not your fault if you’re a bit of a wacko. It can’t be easy growing up with him as your brother. I only work with him and I feel dumber for it. Fancy a smoke kidda?” Dave said, offering a cigarette to my brother.
Great, now I had two wise arses to deal with.
“I’ve got my own Dave. I could do with a light though if you don’t mind,” my brother said, opening a large walk in storage closet to reveal it was completely chocker with cartons of cigarettes.
“Do you think you’ve got enough in there?” I said.
“Well I did until Dave here lit up and now I think we need more supplies,” my brother replied.
“He’s right Ace, there’s not enough tabs in there for the two of us. They wouldn’t last a week,” Dave explained.
A week! There must have been thousands in there!
“Ciggy run in the morning Kidda?” Dave said to Butty.
“I know just the place,” my brother replied. “Now then where were we? Oh yes! Zombie limbs stuck to the house. They can smell you. I figured it out quite early on. Their eyesight isn’t great and they have less co-ordination than a one legged blind dog but their sense of smell is second to none. So I managed to kill a few of the bastards, chop them up in my little workshop out the front then nail all the parts to the house. I’ve had no trouble since.”
“Did you have to stick the heads on the spikes though? Seems a bit much if you just wanted to mask your smell,” I asked.
“No, but you must admit it looks pretty awesome doesn’t it? It’s more to scare off any survivors really. I mean, would you try looting a house that looks like this?” my brother replied.
Like I said - genius! Mental of course, but the kind of mental this new world favours.
“It’s getting late. Let me show you all what I’ve done with the place and fix you something to eat then you can get some rest,” Butty said, ushering us out of the room and onto the hallway.
On the hallway it became quite evident why my brother couldn’t open the door to his house and instead made us climb a rope ladder to the window.
To my surprise, he had completely removed the stairway to the ground floor. You wouldn’t think it to look at him but he’s a clever bastard my brother. Should zombies enter the house they would have no way of reaching us in our elevated position.
“I took the stairs out a few days ago. You can still get down using the rope ladder. It attaches here on the hooks I’ve drilled into the bannister. I’ve locked up the cellar and there’s more food and water supplies in there should we need them. As you can see the electricity is still running so we have lights and hot water. But for how long is anyone’s guess. I’ve got that covered though. There are two large generators in the cellar,” Butty said.
“Where the hell did you find two generators?” I asked.
“I didn’t find them little brother I’ve had them since the millennium. Don’t forget I’m a seasoned doom mongerer. The end of the world just doesn’t creep up on people like me. I’ve been planning for this my whole life. You know John, considering you’re my brother you know very little about me,” said Butty.
“To be honest Butty, you harp on about doomsday scenarios so often I tend to switch off. Every apocalypse conversation always ends the same way anyway, with you telling me that when Armageddon arrives, come to your house,” I said.
“It’s a good job you remembered the important part then, eh? Anyway, as I said there’s hot water and I have plenty of towels so if anyone wants to freshen up you’re more than welcome. Feel free to have a mooch around and I’ll go and get some food on the go. I hope everyone likes spam?” Butty said, leaving the hallway and entering his bedroom which from where I was standing, looked to contain all of his kitchen utilities.
I have to admit that the spam was the best thing I’d had to eat in a long time. After we ate, we sat around the floor in my brother’s room and for the first time all day we felt safe and able to relax. My brother even passed around a few beers which went down a storm. I even let Emily have one. Hey don’t judge me; it’s the end of the world! My brother said he had some stronger stuff brewing in the cellar but he’s saving it for a special occasion. He’s going to be waiting a long time that’s all I can say!
It was after a few beers that my brother handed me an empty journal and said I should keep a record of our survival. He said keeping a journal could be vital for the future of the human race and when the war on the undead is finally over, it will be journals like mine that people will turn to, to understand what really happened. He said he was keeping one also but he wouldn’t let me look at it in case I copied. Honestly, you’d think we were in school.
So after my delicious spam supper I readied myself for some shut eye. After what was the second worst day of my life, sleep was a welcome distraction. Only, I wasn’t asleep for as long as I would have liked, no thanks to my crazy ass sibling.
“Wakey, wakey little brother,” Butty whispered.
I opened my eyes to see the grinning face of my brother inches from mine. Not the worst sight I’ve ever woken up to but it was close.
“What do you want Butty?” I asked.
“Come with me, I want to show you something,” he replied.
“Last time you said that we were kids and you made me look out of our grandparent’s bathroom window into the neighbour’s back garden so I could see her sunbathing topless,” I said.
“Oh yeah, Paula! I’d forgotten about that! That was some sight wasn’t it?” Butty asked, with eyes wide and full of wonder as he recalled his forgotten memory.
“Some sight? Butty she was pushing seventy. I nearly lost my sight altogether!” I replied, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, “I wonder what happened to her? Died years ago I suspect.”
“Died recently actually. Her head’s on one of the spikes outside the front door. I’m surprised you didn’t notice but then again, it wasn’t her face you remembered was it,” Butty smiled.
“No it wasn’t. I can’t believe you’ve stuck her head on a spike,” I said, shocked at my brother’s revelation.
“Dead is dead little bro. Friends, neighbours, acquaintances… Once they turn into shufflers they’re all the same to me. You knew the other four heads too. Ian from over the road, Gemma from Clifton Farm and Andy and Lindsey from school. Do you remember her husband, Phil? Well he was going to be stuck on spike number six but his bonce was in such a mess after I’d finished with it, it hardly resembled a head at all. So I chopped him up and nailed him to the house instead. I decided to stick with just the five spikes after that,” Butty said matter of factly.
“Oh man, really? Did you have to use the heads of people we know?” I gagged, swallowing the build-up of saliva in my mouth.
“We live in a small town John. You don’t have to travel far to see a familiar face around these parts and in your case, you just have to step out of the front door to see five! Word of advice, if the news about the heads out the front upset you then you best not look in the back garden,” Butty advised.
“Why, how many more of my friends have you killed?” I asked, concentrating hard on keeping the contents of my stomach where they belonged.
He then went on to list what felt like hundreds of names, reeling them off the tongue like it was everyday conversation!
“Jesus Butty, we’re one day into the apocalypse and you’ve killed more people than Spanish Flu! If I didn’t know better I’d say you had purposely sought out everyone I knew that was infected, somehow managed to herd them all here and kill them just to piss me off!” I said.
“Don’t talk daft John, I’ve had better things to do than bugger about killing zombies just to annoy my little brother. It’s as I said, we live in a small town and when you’ve lived here as long as we have you get to know people. It’s just unfortunate that the majority of people these days have turned into flesh hungry monsters. Look at it this way, by killing almost everyone you know, I’ve saved you the heart ache of having to see them as zombies. I’ve actually done you a favour when you think about it,” he explained, rationalising his actions as only he could.
The Death in a Northern Town Trilogy (Books 1-3): Welcome To Dead Town Page 14
