Finishing her meal she turned from the window and curled up on the floor wrapping herself tightly in the blanket. She knew that if she was to avenge Jonathon then she needed to keep her strength up and a good night’s rest was a necessity. Besides, she wanted to be fresh and alert when she investigated the Pavilions in the morning.
Closing her eyes she quickly fell into a deep sleep, exhausted after a long couple of days.
It was early morning when she woke. The rumbling of a car engine approaching and the banging, clanging and scraping that came with it wakened her from her slumber. Emily couldn’t believe her eyes as 80s Dave’s Ford Thunderbird struggled towards her location, a large gathering of zombies following behind. Her first thoughts were to hide, believing her father, Dave and Uncle Butty had caught up with her but on closer inspection she noticed that her family were not in the vehicle.
She watched as the Thunderbird stalled directly outside the apartment before becoming surrounded by zombies. Inside the vehicle she saw a tall thin man with long black hair and a young girl sobbing whilst cradling a screaming baby.
“Fuck!”
Journal Entry 15
We trailed the screeching Thunderbird whilst being careful to keep a safe distance between our vehicles and the horde of rotters ahead of us. The clanging, banging and scraping as the car struggled forward on four flat tyres was so loud it echoed throughout Weston Point, attracting every zombie in the area. My mind, or what little remained of it, was a complete mess. If it was Emily driving how the hell were we going to save her? Four men with a selection of crowbars, a cricket bat and a large mayonnaise stirring spoon against what must have been over one hundred zombies and counting? Even Butty was looking nervous; driving whilst chewing his lip and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.
Dave was ahead of us, setting the slow pace in his Volvo with Steven sat in the back seat. I could see Dave’s head bobbing up and down and his left arm making exaggerated movements. He would angrily fist pump the air occasionally with his brown leather driving glove attired hand. Anyone would have thought both he and Steven were having a heated argument but I knew better. He was listening to some inspirational 80s tunes, getting himself into the fighting spirit. Most probably Kung Fu Fighting, Eye of the Tiger or anything by Culture Club because as Dave always says…
“Nothing makes me want to rip off someone’s head and shit down their necks more than listening to that hedonistic gob shite, Boy George!”
Every few minutes Steven turned his head to look at Butty and I. He looked terrified, like an innocent man on Death Row being led to the electric chair. His face presented an expression that said “Are we really doing this? There’s too many of them! What the hell are you guys thinking? I didn’t sign up for this! I want to live not die! Get me out of this car and away from this Scouse maniac!”
Keeping our distance we continued, slowly chugging along trying not to grab any undead attention. The amount of zombies made it difficult to see where one road ended and another began. It was like following a large protest march and to help take my mind off the possibility of Emily leading the horde, I imagined the zombies shuffling along with large placards brandishing slogans such as “Zombies have rights too!”, “Dead and unfed!” and “Stop the rot!”
My silly musing did little to ease my stress and the concern on my brother’s face was not doing anything to help!
“What’s the plan? Please tell me you’ve thought up a plan because at this point all I’ve got is run at them with a crowbar and hope for the best.” I asked.
“Well I’ve been thinking. All we’ve got tying Emily to the car is that it’s Dave’s Thunderbird,” Butty said, spitting out a freshly bitten nail from his finger. “We have no other reason to suspect she would be driving it. But we have been searching for her since yesterday morning and so far, this is the only lead we’ve had. Now my instinct is telling me that she’s not driving. I have to ask myself what I would do and there is no way I would drive a car with flat tyres and create that amount of noise. You might as well be ringing a bell whilst shouting “eat me!” The problem is that due to the amount of zombies following the car, we cannot say for sure if Emily is in there and although my instinct says she isn’t, there is reasonable doubt. Which means only one thing, we’re going to have to take the dead bastards out and you’re not far off with running at them with a crowbar but only after we’ve run as many of them over as we can. I’m not convinced Dave’s Volvo is up to the job but this Land Rover should take care of a lot of them. Even if the impact doesn’t kill them it will snap a few limbs, make them less of a threat. My bigger concern is where we are. You remember The Pavilions don’t you? How many zombies you saw heading towards it? Well it’s just up ahead and if we’re going to make our move, we’re best doing it soon before we get there and we end up faced with an army to deal with.”
We turned on to the bottom of Sandy Lane, a long ascending road which contained the entrance to The Pavilions. At the speed we were moving we were still a good distance away from reaching the grounds of the large social club but Butty was right. If we were going to act it would have to be fast. Then Dave brought his Volvo to a halt and held his hand out of the window instructing us to stop also. It wasn’t clear why at first then we realised the horde of zombies had stopped moving. We all left our vehicles and grouped together.
“Whoever is driving my Thunderbird must have stopped, which means they are either trapped inside or they’ve made a run for it. If we’re going to do this now is the time kidda,”Dave said, cracking his knuckles and gearing himself up for a fight.
“I have to, it could be Emily and I can’t take the risk that it isn’t. I’d never forgive myself,” I quivered, my body shaking with nerves and adrenaline.
“Well we’re with you kid, let’s go and fuck up some dead cunts!” Dave smiled whilst placing his arm around a petrified Steven.
“John and I will go first and clear as many with the Land Rover as we can. You and Steven follow but be careful, don’t drive in too deep. Hit, reverse, repeat. Hit, reverse, repeat.” Butty explained.
The noise of an approaching vehicle could be heard and we all turned to see a red Mini Cooper speeding to our location. As well as the noise from its engine the car stereo could be heard blasting out the Superman theme tune.
We dove for cover as the Mini Cooper hurtled towards the zombie horde up ahead with what looked like a big green hand sticking out of the window.
“Maybe I’m losing my mind but did anyone else just see the Incredible Hulk driving a Mini?” I asked.
“It looked like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle to me!” Steven replied, scratching his head.
“I don’t know who it was Ace but I’m sure they were wearing a cape.” Dave responded.
We watched the Mini speed forward and smash into the zombie horde before reversing back and pulling up beside us. The driver window lowered to reveal a masked women starring back me. She was wearing a Star Trek uniform, Superman cape and had a large plastic Hulk fist on her hand. On the passenger seat next to her I saw a Klingon Bat’leth and I spied a broadsword and Lightsaber in the back.
“When you lot have finished gawping you might want to get in your vehicles and give me a hand, or is zombie killing women’s work these days?” She said, before speeding away towards the horde again.
“You heard the girl, let’s kill some zombies!” Butty roared with renewed fire in his Belly.
We got back in our vehicles and started the engines, watching as the Mini Cooper again struck the large gathering of shufflers before reversing all the way back to our location.
She lifted her head out of the window and yelled “I love the smell of zombies in the morning!” then accelerated away again!
“Who is that girl?” I asked.
“I don’t know but I think I’m in love!” Butty replied.
Butty put his foot down and we sped towards the zombies. I tried keeping my eyes open at first but the closer we got the mor
e terrified I became. So crunching my eyelids closed I pushed myself back into the seat and prepared the best I could for impact. When the collision came it was as hard as I had expected and an airbag expanded into my face restricted my vision but the moans… my god the noise of the undead was deafening. I was only glad I was wearing my seat belt or the force may have sent me through the windscreen! Butty quickly put the car in reverse and we were out of the chaos as quickly as we had ploughed into it.
Bringing the car to a halt, Butty pulled out a knife and stabbed at the airbag, restoring my vision just in time to see Dave’s Volvo crash into the zombies and crash it did! Smoke bellowed into the air and the bonnet flew up. Dave and Steven were in trouble.
We shot forward again and rammed into the zombies grabbing at the right of Dave’s Volvo. The mysterious girl in the Mini did the same and smashed into the zombies to the Volvo’s left. I looked to the vehicle to see Dave and Steven kicking at the windscreen to escape.
We moved out once again. Hit, reverse, repeat was the order of the day. Hammering back into the undead, we saw that Dave and Steven had successfully removed the windscreen and were now on top of the Volvo; Steven frantically kicking at reaching zombies and Dave whacking anything that came close with his battle paddle. But they were quickly becoming overwhelmed. Sure Butty and the masked girl in the Mini were effectively clearing zombies from the sides but to the front they clambered forward, falling into each other. It was only the raised bonnet which was stopping the dead from clawing their way onto the vehicle.
“Both of you jump over, you’re going to die if you don’t!” I yelled.
Dave jumped from the roof of the Volvo to that of our land Rover then yelled for Steven to follow. Readying himself to leap over, a zombie grabbed Steven’s ankle and he tripped, smashing his face into the roof of the car.
“Stevo get up off your fucking arse now! Nobody else is dying today!” Dave shouted, spearing the battle paddle at the many undead trying to grab at him.
Steven was dazed by the fall and before he knew what was happening, the zombie that had grabbed at his ankle pulled him off the roof and into the horde. Every zombie close by tugged and yanked and ripped into his flesh, pulling him apart like pulled pork.
Amongst his screams the last thing I heard him yell was “I’m coming Jess! I’m coming!”
“Hold on Dave!” Butty shouted before pulling the Land Rover back into reverse and quickly retreating.
Once at a safe distance Dave climbed down from the roof and into the back of the car.
“Fuck me lar, that’s two people dead already this morning and I’ve only been awake an hour! You pair better not die on me. I’m starting to get a complex here!” he said.
I looked ahead to see the Mini Cooper hurtle into more zombies. The hit and run method was working and the large gathering of deaders was gradually lessening. There was now just as many squirming on the ground as there was on their feet and more importantly we could now see the Thunderbird. From the amount of zombies pounding on it, the driver was still inside.
Butty put his foot on the throttle and we continued to run over as many zombies as we could. Smash after smash we drove into the horde, slowly but surely knocking them to the ground. As the numbers of those knocked down increased, the task changed from running them over to rolling back and forth over their fallen bodies, squishing as many rotting heads as we could. The amount of mashed limbs and splattered bodies wasn’t making it easy. It was like driving through heavy mud and it didn’t take long for both ours and the masked girl’s vehicle to become stuck, trapped in a thick layer of tangled limbs.
Not too far away was the Thunderbird and roughly forty or so zombies that we had so far been unable to attack. With the cars immobile, we were going to have to get our hands dirty to finish the job.
Dave sparked a cigarette, pushed open the car door and leaped out of the back of the vehicle, thrusting the battle paddle into the heads of any zombies squirming on the floor. There was a rage burning inside of him that was clear to see. He had a lot of aggression to work out following the death of Steven and before him, Brittain. It was a good job he had a lot of dead people to take it out on!
Butty and I followed, bashing anything that moved. Man it was slow and difficult work. Not only from drilling our weapons into the heads of the fallen but from walking across the carpet of twisted and bloodied limbs beneath us. Every step landed on a slippery leg, a busted open chest, a contorted arm or a splattered face. It was disgusting and tiresome but each step took us closer to the Thunderbird.
Ahead of us was the masked girl, stomping on zombie heads with her Dr Martens boots, smashing them with her hulk fist and slicing them open with her Klingon Bat’leth. She was fierce and relentless in her attacks, yelling “DIE BASTARD DIE!” every time she killed one. If I’m honest she scared the shit out of me but for some reason she had taken it upon herself to join our fight and to her credit, she was killing a lot more of the deaders than we were!
After the disgusting and hideous journey across the road of twisted limbs we caught up with the masked girl. Greeting us now was the gathering of zombies shuffling around the Thunderbird.
“Why are you helping us?” I asked the girl.
“I’m not, I’m helping myself,” she replied, marching forward to attack the dead.
Well I had no idea what she meant by that, I was just glad to have someone as kick ass as her on our team!
We followed her into the fight, belting anything and everything in the head that came close enough. What was apparent quite quickly was the lack of attack from the zombies. They only appeared interested in us when we got up close and personal. It appears the sheer number of rotting corpses was hindering their sense of smell and only when we were right under their noses did they react. By that point it was too late. Whollop! A hard strike to the head and they were down.
Several minutes of zombie bashing later and we were close to the Thunderbird. My heart was racing as I thwacked and cracked my way through the small horde.
Removing a dead zombie that was slumped against the driver’s window, I peered inside. The glass was coated with blood making it difficult to see. All I could make out was the outline of a figure stooped over the wheel. I tried the door handle but it was locked.
“Emily!” I cried, rubbing the sleeve of my jacket against the glass to remove the thick covering of plasma.
A few swift wipes with my sleeve and a small clearing was made, large enough for me to see inside. I placed my eyes to the glass to see a man staring back at me.
“It’s not her, it’s not Emily!” I cried, falling to my knees, sobbing freely.
Everything we had just been through and it wasn’t her. Steven had lost his life and for what? So we could save some guy that had been stupid enough to steal a car and drive it with four flat tyres attracting every zombie in Runcorn. I was so upset it took a while for me to realise Butty had been calling my name.
“John! John! Stop crying you soft shit and look, she’s here! Emily is here!”
I couldn’t believe it, there she was! A bloodied hammer by her side and a collection of dead zombies at her feet.
I ran to her, clambering over the fallen zombies to fling my arms around her tightly. Emily wept. Shit, we both did! We had both been through so much it was an emotional reunion. After a few moments of blubbering she looked me in the eye and said she was sorry for leaving and asked for my forgiveness. But there was nothing for me to forgive. If anything she should be forgiving me! I should never have tried to keep things from her. To think that leaving her with Barry was the right thing to do was a terrible idea. She wanted revenge for what happened to Jonathon and her uncle’s house. So did we and if we were to be successful we needed to stick together.
“None of this is your fault, it’s mine. All I wanted to do was protect you but I ended up pushing you away. We’re in this together, we all are. Where one goes, we all go. I am never losing you again,” I sobbed.
“I lo
ve you Dad,” Emily smiled, placing her head on my shoulder.
“Alright then, let’s find out who the clown is that thought it was a good idea to drive my vintage wheels on four flat tyres!” Dave huffed, marching towards the Thunderbird.
The driver’s door opened and out stepped a tall thin man with long black hair. I could see the anger in Dave, he was ready to burst! Before he could unleash a tirade of abuse at the man for what he had done, one of the rear car doors opened and a young girl holding a baby stepped out.
“It’s a good job you’ve got your kids with you or I may have knocked your head off for what you did to my car. What were you thinking? She’s ruined! “You better pray to Devo that the tape deck still works!” Dave complained, a tearful quiver to his voice.
“This is your car? Are you Lone Wolf?” Nick asked excitedly.
“You what? Lone Wolf? John, we’ve found another crazy bastard!” Dave shouted, walking past the man to inspect the car.
Upon hearing the man say Lone Wolf, Butty pulled his crowbar out of the skull of the last shuffling zombie and walked towards him, slowly; like a cowboy preparing for a shootout.
“I’m Lone Wolf,” he scowled in his best Clint Eastwood voice.
“Trust No-one told me that if I needed help, I should track you down. When I found your house burnt out I thought maybe you went down with it. It was starting to go dark and we took shelter in this old thing. We must have fallen asleep and when we woke up we were surrounded by zombies. I had no choice but to drive it away. By the time I’d realised the noise was attracting more of them there was too many. I couldn’t have stopped even if I wanted to.” Nick replied.
“Where is Trust No-one now?” Butty growled.
“He’s dead,” came the grave reply.
It was like watching two cowboys having a snarling match before a gun fight I could see the suspicion in my brother’s eyes. He was weighing up if he could trust the man or not. Then there was this stranger with the kids, not knowing if Butty was a lunatic or not. It took a few moments to click but then I remembered where I’d heard the name Lone Wolf before. It was my brother’s A.R.S.E. handle and Trust No-one was the name of one of his fellow Alien Spotters.
The Death in a Northern Town Trilogy (Books 1-3): Welcome To Dead Town Page 38
