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

by Peter Mckeirnon

  “Just calm down Ace, take a toke on the bifter and relax. What’s your name kid?” Dave asked.

  “Steven,” he said, coughing his name following a long pull on the cigarette.

  “My name’s Dave but you can call me Cool Bastard for short and this is John. The guy looking agitated in the Land Rover over there is Butty but don’t worry about him. He might be a few sandwiches short of a picnic but he’s alright really. Tell us more about what happened Stevie lad,” Dave said.

  “The drive here was relatively easy. We had to manoeuvre our way around crashed and abandoned vehicles, dodge a few zombies but nothing got in our way. The roads were pretty quiet. Until we arrived here that is. We pulled into the street to find three men looting houses. If they came across any survivors they were dragging them from their homes and tying them to lamp posts, using them as bait for the undead. Zombies would eat those tied up and the looters could go about their business. Look behind you. That’s what you can see further up the street,” Steven said.

  Dave and I turned our heads and gave the small gatherings of zombies a closer inspection. Steven was right! Behind us we saw zombies had crowded around the bodies of survivors tied to almost every lamp post and telegraph pole on the street, feasting on their remains. The bodies that didn’t have zombies chewing on them had already been gobbled and were now barely recognisable as human. The look of dread on my face caught Butty’s attention and he took a closer inspection also.

  “When we arrived it was too late for Neil’s family. His brother, sister in law, his son and his pregnant wife… they were all being eaten alive. We did everything we could to save them but it was too late. No sooner had we killed all the zombies the three men appeared and attacked us from behind, knocking us out and tying us up like everyone else. I came round as one of the men, a big guy covered in food stains, was tying my arms around the lamp post. He was crying, I could tell he was being forced to act against his will. He lent in close and placed a knife in my hands and whispered “I’m sorry.” Then he moved away. I waited until the three men had gone then cut myself free, managing to escape just before zombies got me. Tin Tin and Neil were not so lucky.”

  “Can you describe the men that did this?” I asked.

  “The one in charge was smaller than the others and had a rucksack on his back. He’s the one that killed Neil and Tin Tin. The other two guys? The one that helped me was really big, I mean he was huge and like I said, with food stains all over his clothes. The other guy was average build and height, middle aged I think. It’s all a bit of a blur. I took a nasty fall yesterday and my head has been hazy ever since. I think I have a concussion,” Steven informed.

  “Did they drive a blue van?” I asked.

  “Yeah I think they did, a blue transit. Wait a minute you know these guys?” Steven said with worry, clutching his knife tightly before dizziness set in and he stumbled, falling to one knee.

  “Hey relax, it’s ok. We’re not going to hurt you. We do know these people but it’s not what you think. The one in charge, he burnt our house down yesterday and killed my daughter’s boyfriend. She’s missing, out looking for revenge. That’s what we’re doing now, we’re trying to find her,” I said.

  “And that rucksack ace, it’s got a head in it. A proper manky one too! Trust me, it’s got more scabs than Russell Brand’s dick,” Dave added.

  “Come with us, even if it’s just till you get over your concussion. You won’t last the day out here on your own. Safety in numbers.” I smiled, placing a hand on Steven’s shoulder.

  “What are you going to do when you find your daughter? Are you going after the men with the van? If you do, then I want part of it. My whole life I’ve been scared. Scared to stand up to people, scared to grasp opportunity, scared to live. But not anymore. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt these last few days it’s to do what needs to be done and those guys need to pay for what they did. They’re worse than the zombies and if they’re to get what they deserve then I want in!” Steven replied, his anger and upset clear for us to see.

  I placed my arm around him and we walked to our car. I could see Butty shaking his head in the driver’s seat, obviously annoyed that our scouting party had grown in numbers but I couldn’t have cared less. If we were to find Emily we needed all the help we could get. Plus Steven was alone and we had a common enemy. It made sense for us to stick together. Butty would come round, once he had finished sulking!

  “Butty meet Steven. The man that killed Jonathon murdered his friends so he’s coming with us, OK?” I said forcefully, taking a seat in the back of the Land Rover with our new companion.

  Steven reached out for a hand shake but Butty didn’t accept. Instead he growled and muttered something under his breath whilst glaring at me disapprovingly through the rear view mirror.

  “Ignore Captain Insane. He only puts up with me because I’m his brother and he has no choice, otherwise he’d quite happily use me as zombie fodder,” I said.

  Dave honked the horn of his Volvo and motioned for us to get a move on, resulting in my brother flicking him the ‘V’ sign before starting the engine and pulling away.

  The road ahead was littered with corpses, abandoned cars and the shuffling dead, many of which had finished guzzling down the remains of the poor bastards used as bait and were now showing interest in our vehicles. It was slow and difficult going and we were making very little progress in our mission to find Emily. Everything was slowing us down and zombies banging up against the car and slapping their rotting hands against the windows made it almost impossible for us to search. We could have passed Emily several times over and we wouldn’t have noticed. Now the evening was drawing in and the chances of us finding her today were lessening. Soon we would need to find somewhere secure to hold up for the night. I had never felt so useless and Butty sensing my anguish decided to offer a few words of comfort.

  “You feel helpless don’t you? Don’t worry little brother, I have every confidence that our Emily is just fine. I’ve trained her well and there’s nothing in this hell of a world she can’t handle. If it was you out there on your own then, well, that would be a completely different story. We would have no doubt presumed you dead hours ago and turned in for an early night,” he said.

  If it wasn’t for the music coming from 80s Dave’s car I probably would have cried. But it’s difficult to feel upset with What’s New Pussycat booming into your ears.

  The Taking of the Pavilions

  All through the night the battle had raged. The green grass of the sports fields were now a deep red from the blood of the fallen and undead alike.

  The Pavilions had been set up as a safe house for survivors. Somewhere for the Weston Point residents of Runcorn to hole up and wait for help to arrive. With little to no knowledge of what they were dealing with, it had not taken long for their ‘safe house’ to become compromised and soon the walking dead had infiltrated their ranks and chaos ensued.

  To their credit, The Pavilions had set up a screening area to check survivors for scratches, bite marks or any other visible sign of infection. Anyone found to be infected was denied entry, much to the distress of everyone involved and of course, the family members and friends that watched their loved ones be turned away. They were unprepared and overwhelmed by how many survivors needed shelter. All it took was for a mother to smuggle her young son with a small scratch to his knee through the screening process and within a few hours of opening its doors, the infection had breached their walls and the battle for survival began.

  For almost two days survivors held off the dead but in the end it was the dead that won and the large sports club had become a living morgue with hundreds of zombies populating its grounds.

  Only the crazy or fearless would dare attempt to take The Pavilions for the own.

  “I’ve done a bad thing Ed, I’ve done a bad thing …”

  Tom rocked himself backwards and forwards in the passenger seat of the blue transit van, arms wrapped around his stomach
with tears rolling down his cheeks. He wore his heart on his sleeve and his distress at everything Ged had forced him to do was clear to see. Since the zombie outbreak he had witnessed and been an accessory to arson, burglary and murder. “Kill or be killed!” Ged would say followed by a threat that if he did not do as instructed, it would be him that would be burnt alive or tied up and fed to hungry zombies.

  Ed placed an arm around his friend’s huge shoulders. In part this was to offer support but mostly because he hoped the gesture would calm Tom enough to lower his voice. The last thing they needed right now was for their volatile boss to sense weakness within his team.

  “We’ve both done bad things, Tom, but that doesn’t make us bad people,” he said softly, “We’re just doing what we have to do to survive that’s all.”

  “Why does he make us do it?” Tom blubbed.

  “I don’t know, Tom. It’s a different world we live in now. Nice people like you that see the good in everyone and always want to do the right thing, they don’t make it in this world. Crazy bastards like Ged, they’re top of the food chain now. He’s shown that he will do anything to survive. Kill or be killed he says. It’s survival of the craziest and lucky for us we know the craziest bastard there is. The best thing for us right now is to fall in line and do exactly as he says but it won’t be forever I promise you that. Here, eat this,” Ed said, handing him a tin of corned beef, “Don’t let Ged know I gave this to you, OK?”

  Tom’s upset lessened as his chubby hands fumbled with the tin of his favourite food. Eating always brought him comfort.

  Outside of the van, on the other side of the road close to the entrance for the large grounds of The Pavilions stood Ged, smoking a cigarette with a bloodied sword in hand and a collection of slaughtered zombies at his feet. More were approaching. Over his shoulder he carried the rucksack containing his cousin’s head.

  He faced the oncoming shufflers and stood his ground as they staggered within grabbing distance. With the sword gripped tightly in both hands he watched as one by one the deaders sniffed the air around him then shuffled past ignoring his presence completely. Instead they headed towards Tom and Ed. A smirk spread across his face and he casually strolled towards his companions, slicing the heads from the necks of every zombie in his path.

  “He’s coming,” Ed began hastily, “don’t let him see the food I gave you. He’ll only lose his temper and limit your supplies even more.”

  Tom turned to Ed and licked the last smearing of corned beef out of the tin, offering his friend a satisfied grin. Like a hungry dog he had guzzled and licked the tin completely clean, leaving no evidence of his tasty treat.

  “Out of the van, both of you,” Ged instructed.

  With several zombies still approaching they reluctantly left the vehicle and scurried behind their boss, watching as he decapitated those that remained. Then one by one he dragged every rotting body into the road, creating a circle.

  “The things you find in people’s houses,” he said, admiring the blood covered blade. “Come, stand inside the circle with me, don’t worry about your weapons you won’t need them. The house I burnt down last night got me thinking. Why was it covered in zombie limbs? Every exterior wall was covered with rotting arms, legs, hands and feet but why? To ward off intruders? In part maybe but they didn’t keep me away. Then again, I am a special kind of crazy! No, the real reason for those fuckers decorating their house with zombie parts my stupid and spineless friends, was to mask the smell of the living. Come here and I’ll show you.”

  Ed with Tom following, acted on their bosses instructions and entered the circle of the dead. Once inside they waited nervously for shufflers to arrive.

  Slowly several zombies staggered from the grounds of The Pavilions and headed their way. Tom closed his eyes and made fists with both of his enormous hands, squeezing tightly in an attempt to stop himself from crying. Ed remained strong, standing tall with his chest puffed out so not to show how scared he was to his boss. Ged leant on his sword. His crazy eyes big and wide with excitement as every zombie shuffled around the circle, stopping occasionally to sniff the air only to then walk away. It was as if the three men did not exist and Ed’s fear was soon replaced with astonishment. Astonishment because his boss was right!

  “Incredible!” Ed gasped.

  “Now what to do with this discovery? What was that Joni?” Ged said looking over his shoulder to his rucksack, “The Pavilions? What a fantastic idea!”

  The three of them stepped out of the circle of bodies and walked to the entrance of The Pavilions, gazing upon the zombie infested fields. Ged moved forward and slayed a small group of nearby deaders before turning to his companions.

  “Beautiful isn’t it?” he grinned, “All we have to do is kill every single one of them and The Pavilions will be ours. The smell from the hundreds of rotting corpses will keep us protected, from both the living and the dead. That will be both our home and centre for operations. We’re in the looting business now boys. Runcorn is dead and ours for the taking and take it we will. Starting with Weston Point we’ll loot every house in the area until there’s nothing worth taking left. If we come across any other survivors then, well… we know what we need to do don’t we? Exactly what we did to the boy last night and the people earlier. It’s kill or be killed now boys. The old world wasn’t ready for Ged Woods but my God, I’m built for this one! Mark my words this town is going to be ours, starting with The Pavilions!”

  “There’s too many boss, it’s impossible. How are we going to kill so many zombies without them attacking us?” Ed asked, overwhelmed by the task at hand.

  Ged moved forward once again, approaching the small group of deaders he had previously dispatched. Using his sword he sliced open the stomach of one of the zombies and knelt down beside it, reaching inside the open wound to remove intestines. Then he smeared them across his body, covering his torso in congealed blood.

  “We will do what needs to be done,” he said rubbing his blood dripping hand across his face, “Catch,” he added, throwing Ed and Tom a sliced up zombie part each, “Smear yourself with as much blood as you can. If you need any more just ask, we have plenty of supplies!”

  Tom’s bottom lip began to quiver and he looked to Ed with an expression that pleaded for him not to go through with it. No words were exchanged, only an apologetic look from Ed as he smeared zombie gloop across his friend’s overcoat before applying it to himself.

  Over his shoulder Ed heard muttering and turned to see Ged with Joni’s head in his hands, he was discussing battle plans with his deceased cousin.

  “I look and smell like the bad men Ed, I don’t like this,” Tom whined.

  “I don’t like it either my friend but it’s better smelling and looking like them then actually being one. Here, have a chocolate bar that will cheer you up,” Ed replied offering the big guy a Snickers.

  “No I’m not hungry. This smell is putting me off my food and that has never happened before, EVER. Even when granddad Jim needed his nappy changing I could still eat. Or when my old dog Henry farted I could still eat and those used to make Auntie Maureen cry! What if I lose my appetite all together and I don’t like corned beef anymore. What will I do Ed? I don’t think I can live without corned beef!” Tom threatened.

  “Ed, Tom! Joni has a plan. Bring the van into The Pavilion’s grounds. We’re going to test its suspension!” Ged proclaimed a grin as large as his ego and a glint in his eye as bright as his heart was black.

  As always, Ed and Tom did as they were told and brought the van through the entrance of The Pavilions’ grounds. Ged opened the driver’s door and clambered inside, pushing Ed into the passenger seat next to Tom. He removed Joni’s head from the rucksack and placed him on the dashboard, looking out of the windscreen.

  Ged howled a maniacal laugh and revved the engine.

  “Hold on tight boys, this could get bumpy!” he yelled.

  The van sped forward rumbling into the sports fields, ploughing into
zombie after zombie. The noise from the undead hitting the body of the vehicle was deafening. Loud bangs made it sound like the van had come under heavy gun fire and Tom shielded his ears with his hands; his large body rocking from side to side, crashing into Ed as the van tumbled over the many bodies. Ged was loving every minute of the mayhem. Laughing and cheering with every zombie he mowed down.

  Eventually the damage sustained to the van brought it to a halt. Now it was time to get hands on and following Ged’s lead, Tom and Ed, albeit battered and bruised from the rough ride, left the vehicle and assessed the damage. By this point the majority of the zombies had been run down and the fields were a sea of twisted and twitching bloodied bodies. Ged marched forward, stabbing his sword into the heads of the undead as they lay in the grass. The remaining zombies that had avoided a collision with the van were alert and excitable from the disturbance, moaning and roaming around the grounds manically but without direction.

  Smearing themselves in the blood of the dead was working and the three men commenced their hands on attack, destroying the heads of every zombie still standing and finishing off those squirming on the ground.

  For Ed and Tom it was a long and difficult day. Ged on the other hand was revelling in his murder spree and looked to have the energy to do it all again if need be. But by late afternoon the fields were clear and not affording his men any rest, Ged stormed towards the large Social Club, ready to clear its interior.

  “We’re beat boss, we need to rest for a while. We can’t do anymore,” Ed rasped, his breath heavy from exertion.

  Filled with anger Ged turned to his men, marching towards them with his sword pointing forwards, ready to threaten them into doing his bidding. Then a distant rumbling noise caught his attention, increasing in volume with every second. All three men looked to the entrance of The Pavilions’ grounds as four motorbikes appeared, stalling momentarily before riding into the fields and pulling up in front of them.