The Death in a Northern Town Trilogy (Books 1-3): Welcome To Dead Town

by Peter Mckeirnon

  Tony quickly grabbing the first thing he could find to defend himself and turned to face the man.

  “What are you going to do with that, place it under my head and sing me a lullaby? My name’s Nick. Don’t worry fella I mean you no harm,” Nick said, introducing himself to a cushion wielding Tony.

  “How did you get in?” Tony asked defensively whilst keeping a tight grip of the cushion.

  “You left the front door unlocked. Zombies might be flummoxed by door handles but people aren’t. You’ve got a lot to learn my friend,” Nick said with a smile.

  “Twice. You’ve said the word zombies twice now. Is that what you think this is?” Tony asked.

  Nick laughed uncontrollably, so much so that his ribs began to ache. After several very loud and over the top belly laughs he wiped the tears away from his eyes and composed himself.

  “I’m sorry mate, I didn’t mean to laugh like that. Forgive me, really I’m sorry. I lost myself for a minute there. It’s probably a combination of all the booze I’ve been drinking and the amount of dead bastards I’ve had to kill. What do you remember from yesterday?” he asked.

  “Nothing really, not till I woke this morning in that plane wreck out there and everyone was dead,” he replied.

  “Let me fill you in. Yesterday the world went to shit and almost everyone turned into zombies. Those that didn’t were either eaten by zombies, became infected by zombies and then turned into zombies or, like the two of us, are fighting to survive against zombies. Bloody hell, I said zombies quite a lot then, I’ll have to come up with a new name for them. How about… dead fucks? What do you say Tony?” Nick said.

  “How the hell do you know my name?” a puzzled Tony asked.

  “Well I’ve got every Terrorvision album and I’ve watched you live six times so I should bloody know your name. I thought it was you when I saw you climb out of the plane. I would have popped down to help but the last time I tried to help someone it didn’t end so well. In fact, you yanked a walking stick from his frozen dead hand earlier. But then I thought fuck it what if it is you and I don’t even say as much as hello? I’d never forgive myself and I’m bloody glad I did because it bloody is! Fuck me, Tony Wright as I live and breathe. Here, have a swig of this you look like you could do with it,” Nick replied, offering a freshly opened bottle of Jack Daniels.

  Tony gladly accepted the bottle and drank from it greedily. After everything that had happened, the warm buzz of alcohol was a welcome distraction.

  Following a long drink he nodded towards Nick to say thank you, handing it back to him.

  “Nick was it? Nice to meet you, Nick, and cheers for the drink, I needed it,” Tony said.

  “There’s plenty more where that came from fella. I’ll take you back to my place, you’ll be safe there but first I need to go shopping. I could do with a hand if you’re up for it?” Nick said.

  “This place of yours, it’s secure?” Tony asked.

  “It’s only the safest place in Runcorn. Did you see the tower block outside? Well that’s mine, all of it. I spent yesterday and most of last night securing the building. It was bloody tough going I can tell you but with hard work and a little help from my old friend Jack here,” Nick said taking a swig from his bottle of bourbon, “Churchill Mansions is now all mine! It can be yours too if you’re up for it? I don’t mind sharing with Tony Wright, lead singer of Terrorvision! But as I said, we’ll need to do a little shopping first.”

  Tony forced a smiled in reply. He was struggling to process everything that was happening. The plane crash, the devil ducks, Mike and his housemate and now Nick appearing from nowhere. It was almost too much for his tired mind to take. But his gut was telling him to trust Nick and it wasn’t like he had other choices. The idea of taking a shopping trip during a zombie apocalypse wasn’t exactly appealing but the promise of somewhere safe to go to when they were done was too good to turn down. Even if, as Tony was intending, it was only going to be for one night.

  Following Nick’s crude explanation of the zombie outbreak, the reality of the horrific world Tony found himself in sent his body into an internal panic and all he could think about was making his way home to his family. But home was over 60 miles away and if he was going to make it, he needed to formulate a plan. Before the end of the world, the journey would have taken him just over an hour by car but now its length would be impossible to determine. He needed to think things through and, at this moment in time, he had no desire to share his intentions with Nick. His gut might be saying he can trust him, but Tony’s head was saying that Nick was volatile and might not react well when made aware of his intended departure.

  They left Mike’s house, pausing only to look at Churchill Mansions and the dead zombies that surrounded the building.

  “That’s your place?” Tony asked.

  “Yep, I’m thinking of renaming it ‘Nick’s Fortress’ I’ll give you the guided tour when we get back from the shops. There’s a supermarket just up the road so we shouldn’t be too long,” Nick replied.

  “What shopping do we need?” Tony asked.

  “Oh, not much really. This and that. Milk and bread if we can find any fresh, more booze would be nice and oh yeah, some baby formula,” Nick casually replied.

  “Baby Formula?” came Tony’s puzzled response.

  It was a short walk from Mike’s house, through Runcorn Town Centre and up to the Co-Operative Supermarket. They had encountered more ‘Dead Fucks’ along the way but they had mostly been pre-occupied eating the less fortunate or banging against windows and doors of buildings that housed those survivors locked away. Nick had barely given them a glance, strolling along whilst taking occasional sips from his bottle of Jack like he didn’t have a care in the world. It was just as well they hadn’t caught the attention of any zombies as neither had weapons. This was something Tony was all too aware of and he would willingly trade in his leopard print fake fur coat and brave the cold for a good crowbar or large knife. Nick on the other hand had arrived without a weapon and seemed in no rush to find one now.

  Nick used this time to explain to Tony all he had been through since the Outbreak. How he had to kill his zombie grandmother, secure Churchill Mansions and how he witnessed rabid ducks and geese peck to death the father of a small girl and her baby sister. Then how he saved them and took them to ‘Fieldsend’s Fortress’ and how they were the main reason for this shopping trip.

  “So Sophie is the young girl and Gaby is the baby? Poor kids. It must have been horrible for them to see their father die like that. What about their mother, she must be worried about them?” Tony asked.

  “Sophie had been asking about her mum and I said I’d take them home but it’s not safe at the moment. You see, Sophie told me that her mum was sick and you know what that means don’t you? That’s right, she’ll be a Dead Fuck like almost everyone else in this town. Yeah yeah I know I can’t keep it from her forever but Tone, she’s just a little girl and it was only yesterday she watched her Dad get eaten by what she refers to as ‘duckies’. No, I can’t tell her about her mum, not yet. Before you say it, yes I know there’s a chance she’s still alive but it’s a fucking small one and I’m not prepared to risk the girls’ lives by taking them home to find out. They don’t need to see what it’s like out here and the longer I can keep it from them the better. They’re great they are. Gaby is a little cracker and Sophie is brilliant with her. I can’t wait for you to meet them but first we need supplies. Baby formula, wipes, nappies, sterilising tablets… grab as much as you can because if we don’t, then someone else will. I’m just hoping I haven’t left it too late and the supermarket has been looted already. We’re here now anyway. Just a few more steps and…. Ah fuck!” said Nick.

  Nick’s expletive was not without warrant. The glass doors to the Co-Operative supermarket had been shattered and shards of glass coated the floor of the entrance. Also littering the entrance lay upturned shopping trollies, scattered tins of food and rotting fruits and breads. It
was clear that it had been looted already and while Nick rushed inside, Tony took a more cautious approach, tentatively moving forward whilst checking his surroundings. He held concerns the supermarket may still harbour looters and without a weapon to defend himself he felt completely exposed. It was Nick’s wailing from inside that got him moving.

  Picking up a discarded tin of processed marrowfat peas and a stale loaf of bread, Tony ran inside the supermarket. What he found inside was Nick on his knees, head in his hands, moaning in front of the completely empty alcohol aisle.

  “Bloody typical. The apocalypse hits and everyone in this town wants to get pissed. All the fags have gone too,” Nick complained, pointing to the empty tobacco kiosk, “It’s a good job I’ve got a large supply of booze back home or I’d be really angry.”

  “What about baby supplies, have you checked?” Tony asked.

  “Oh there’s plenty of baby stuff, it’s just up that aisle next to those Dead Fucks!” Nick replied, pointing to the aisle in question.

  Tony panicked, gripping the tin of peas like he was ready to throw a grenade and holding the stale bread as if it were a shield.

  “Are you planning on making them a butty? I don’t think they like marrowfat peas but then again who does? Anyway they’ve already been killed. It’s the bloke that slayed them holding his neck that you should be worried about. Maybe he’d like a pea sandwich? Hey mate, fancy a pea butty?” Nick shouted.

  Tony dropped the peas and bread and walked towards the aisle. On the floor lay two dead zombies, their heads battered to a pulp. Next to them was a man. His left hand was pressed against an open neck wound and in his right he held a stainless steel frying pan. Blood coated his quilted jacket and vintage Motorhead t-shirt and his long hair dripped with sweat. He was shaking, a result of the fever that burned through him.

  It wasn’t difficult to see what had happened and Tony knew what was coming. The fever that had taken this man was the same that had afflicted Mike. He knew it was only a matter of time before he would become what Nick called a ‘Dead Fuck’.

  With panic in his eyes, the man gripped the frying pan as tightly as his shaking hand would allow. This did not go unnoticed by Tony who showed the palms of his hands, gesturing that he meant him no harm.

  “Easy fella, I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to help. My name is Tony and the guy over there crying about the lack of booze is Nick. Can I take a look at your neck?” he said softly.

  “My name is Andy, please don’t leave me. My friends left me. They saw what happened and they left without as much as a goodbye. They just took what they needed and walked out. Like everything we’d been through meant nothing,” Andy shivered.

  “What happened, what made them leave you?” Tony asked.

  “This happened,” said Andy, revealing the deep pulsating wound to his neck. “It’s not as bad as it looks, really. And I got those zombies good, just look at their heads man. There are pain… painkillers in here somewhere. If you could find me painkillers and something to clean and dress my neck then I’ll be fine, honestly I will. Maybe I can help you guys out, what is it you’re looking for? There’s no more booze I can tell you that much. My friends, well, ex friends, they took it all. Cigarettes too. They filled the van, my fucking van to be exact, then scarpered. Man I loved that van. Hey if you guys help, I’ll get it back and you can have it, what do you say? It’s a blue 55 plate Citroen Relay. Not once has it let me down. I bought it from a guy that acquired it from another guy whose cousin stole it from a British Gas depot. Despite waxing it hundreds of times, when the sun hits it right, you can still see the British Gas logo on its side.”

  “We don’t need a van!” Nick shouted, still glaring glumly at the looted alcohol section.

  Tony knew Andy’s time was almost up. He’d witnessed how quickly the fever had taken Mike and how it took no time at all for him to turn from living to living dead. He also knew that he only had two options. Option 1: Leave him to become a flesh eating monster, free to kill, to devour and deplete the dwindling living population further. Or option 2: End him now and stop his pain. To kill him so that he would not return. Option 2 would definitely be kinder but still he wrestled with the decision – a decision that was not being made any easier by Andy who was refusing to give in to his inevitable fate.

  “Please, I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. Look at me, I’m fine, really. It just needs cleaning up. I’m not infected, I’m not. Look I’ll show you,” he pleaded, attempting to stand but failing epically.

  Out of breath and removed of strength, Andy slouched against the shelving and with tears in his eyes his lips started to shiver.

  “Please,” he choked, the word almost inaudible such was his fear, “I don’t want to die,”

  Tony knelt in front of him, their faces only inches apart. He could see the tracks of the infection run from the wound on his neck, stretching out across his pale, sweat soaked face.

  “I’ll be straight with you Andy. The truth is you are going to die. That wound on your neck means you’re infected. I can see the track marks running from it, reaching across your neck and face. That’s the infection spreading. I’ve seen this before and it’s only a matter of time before you die then come back as one of the dead fucks over there. Do you really want that to happen? You seem to be a decent guy and looking at your Motorhead t-shirt I reckon if circumstances were different we could have been pals. Now the way I see it, we have two choices. You can sit here and wait. Wait and let the pain you are feeling turn to agony as your body succumbs to the infection. It will burn through you. Your head will feel like it’s going to explode. You will scream and you will beg for it to stop. Then, when your body can take no more, you will die and I will have to take that frying pan of yours and pummel your head until your brain is destroyed. Or there is choice number two…”

  Tony was abruptly cut off by Nick who pressed passed him and rammed a stale French loaf into Andy’s mouth, pushing through the back of his head. The assault killed him instantly.

  “Bonne nuit!” said Nick in his best French accent.

  “Fuck me!” Tony shouted in shock.

  “My thoughts exactly. I know French breads are tough but bloody hell I didn’t think it would go through the back of his head!” Nick replied.

  “What the fuck were you thinking? I was dealing with it; you didn’t have to do that!” Tony shouted angrily.

  “Maybe, but he was a dead man walking and we haven’t got time to sit around waiting for him to conk it just so we can kill him. It’s better this way for all of us and you didn’t have to get your hands dirty so technically I did you a favour. Come on Tone, let’s get the baby supplies and bugger off. When we leave, keep your eyes out for that van he described. What was it he said? A blue 55 plate Citroen Relay wasn’t it? If we get the opportunity we should take it. I know I said we don’t need the van but all that booze and fags does not belong with the bastards that left this poor sod here to die. They deserve to be drank and smoked by better folk than that. Folk like me! Oh and you of course. Come on, let’s get cracking!” Nick said, moving to retrieve a nearby shopping trolley.

  Tony looked upon the fallen Andy and the bloodied stale French bread protruding from his mouth. Although he could understand why Nick did what he did, he did not believe it to be right and felt that the choice of how he was to die belonged to Andy. Nick’s actions re-assured him that his decision to leave was the right one and as soon as the opportunity presented itself, he would be gone and without Nick’s knowledge if possible. But for now, he needed his new volatile companion and the shelter he promised. He was tired, cold and hungry with the prospect of resting at the forefront of his mind. So he helped his unstable acquaintance to fill a shopping trolley with as much baby formula, nappies, sterilising tablets, wipes and medicine as it could hold, then they left the supermarket travelling back towards Churchill Mansions, Nick singing Terrorvision songs and Tony quietly following behind, mindful of how vulnerable and expos
ed they were.

  "Here we are Tone, home sweet home," Nick said with a pride filled smile, arms wide, looking up to Churchill Mansions and the splattered zombies that surrounded it.

  The entrance to the high rise apartment building was surrounded by large iron fencing. Nick removed a chain from around his neck. Attached to it was a set of keys which he used to unlock a padlock that secured the gates. He pushed the shopping trolley through. Tony following cautiously, watching Nick's every move.

  "You see not only have I surrounded the building with the dead but it's protected by this iron fencing too. For zombies it's mission impossible. The dead will hide our smell and, should that fail, this strong fencing will keep them out. Yep, we will be alright here for a long time I reckon. There's no reason why we can’t see this thing out in relative comfort. Me you and the girls, our own little post-apocalyptic family. Hey it'll be like The Walton’s only with more booze and swearing. Not in front of the girls though eh Tone?" he continued, replacing the padlock and the key chain around his neck.

  Tony looked at the fencing. Could it be climbed? Possibly but not unaided. When he was to leave he would need the key to unlock the gate. Maybe Nick would soon pass out from his heavy drinking and he could remove it without him noticing. The next chance he had, that key chain was his.

  They entered the entrance hall of the building. It was dark with furniture from the ground floor apartments stacked up against windows.

  "Going up," Nick said, depressing the button for the building’s elevator which arrived promptly.

  He pushed the trolley inside and pressed the button for the top floor then turned to Tony, whose concern at the prospect of using the elevator was evident.

  "Don’t worry we're taking the stairs. We’ll meet the lift at the top. If it does conk out at least all we've lost is the supplies. It's a death trap that thing, always breaking down and I tell you what, I wouldn’t want to be stuck inside when the power goes out. Trapped in a small dark room with no way out slowly starving to death? Hey if that was ever to happen and I died first you have my permission to eat me. Anything for you Tone. I'll write it down on a bit of paper when we get upstairs so it's all official like, OK? Come on then…" Nick said, taking the first steps of the long climb.