“I’ve been inside Churchill Mansions since the outbreak. My name is Nick and this is Sophie and the baby is Gaby. I’m their guardian I suppose. Thanks for helping us. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t have turned up,” Nick said, placing his arm around Sophie.
“How did he die?” Butty grunted.
“He was murdered by a crazy old bitch and her son. They got theirs though, I made sure of it.” Nick replied with venom.
Butty, having finished weighing up if Nick was a threat or not, changed his approach from moody American cowboy to his regular Runcorn crazy guy character.
“You seem like an OK fella and any friend of Trust No-one’s is a friend of mine but I don’t think we can help, I’m afraid. My house is gone and we have very limited supplies. Taking into account you and the girls, we’ve probably only got enough spam to last a couple of days,” Butty explained.
“Plus, everyone we meet ends up dead so if I were you I’d scarper now before it’s too late kid. You’ve been in our company for about five minutes already which has probably knocked a significant chunk off your lives. Another five and you’ll be living on borrowed time.” Dave piped up from inside the Thunderbird.
“Dave’s right. We don’t have a good track record when it comes to helping people and if you come with us then the only thing I can guarantee is trouble. We’re not looking for a safe place at the moment. We’re looking for payback! No good will come from being in our company,” Butty added.
“There’s a place you can stay just over there,” Emily said, gesturing towards a small apartment, “It’s not the biggest but it can be made secure. I stayed there last night. I’ll show you now. I’ll be right back Dad, I promise.”
Emily took Nick and the kids to the apartment. It’s hard to describe how good it was to have her back with me. She is my world and being without her once again has been unbearable. The only thing that kept me from going completely insane was Dave harping on about his obsession with the 1980s and Butty with his unusual but effective apocalypse survival methods. Speaking of the terrible twosome, after Emily had taken Nick and the kids away to the apartment, I noticed the pair were in cahoots, discussing our next move.
“I know it’s still morning but as far as today goes, we’ve seen more action than Katie Price’s gynaecologist,” Dave so eloquently put.
“There’s enough dead zombies out here to hide our scent for a long time. We should join the others in the apartment, rest and decide what we’re going to do next. Besides I want to quiz the new bloke a bit more on what happened to my pal in Churchill Man…”
Butty was cut short by the sound of vehicles approaching and in the near distance, at the entrance to the Pavilions, two motorbikes appeared followed by the blue transit van we had been searching for. All three of us dove to the ground, lying face down between the many slaughtered zombies in the hope they wouldn’t notice we were alive! Well none of us had washed for a few days (Butty for months probably). Sure we were breathing, but stench wise there wasn’t much difference!
I couldn’t have chosen my spot to hide any worse if I had tried. In my haste to hide myself I had landed on top of a female zombie, face to face and groin to groin! If she was alive this would have been classed as assault! My head had come down directly on to hers and we were eyes to eye. It would have been eyes to eyes but one of hers was missing and to make things doubly gross, the one eye she did have had popped out of its socket and was resting on her pale rotting cheek!
As the vehicles approached I suddenly remembered the girl in the mask that had helped us to destroy the horde. Where the hell was she? I lifted my head from the zombie woman’s face and her eye ball stuck to my cheek! I had a quick look around but I couldn’t see her anywhere. I hoped to god she had scarpered and wasn’t in view.
“Butty!” I whispered, “The girl with the mini, where is she?”
“Fucked if I know. Keep your head down and shut up!” came the stern reply followed by a quizzical frown as he spied the eyeball stuck to my face!
Swiftly I lowered my head, once again resting face to face with the zombie. I’ve done some gross things these last few days but this was right up there with the worst of them and to make matters worse, the eye ball that was stuck to my cheek began to move, slowly slipping and sliding its way towards my mouth. But I couldn’t move, the vehicles were right upon us and I couldn’t risk giving away our presence!
The vehicles pulled up and the rumbling noise from the engines told me they were close. Real close! Then I heard the doors of the van open and people dismount their bikes.
“Do you see all this? Look at them all. They weren’t here yesterday, no way. It was pretty clear when we drove through.”
“Look at all the bad men Ed, there’s zillions of them.”
“We should tell Ged right away, he’d want to know about this”
“Why Ed? They’re all dead aren’t they? They’re no threat to us and besides, he’s sent us out to get supplies. If we came back so soon he would be pissed and the last thing we want to do is piss him off. We all saw what happened to Paul, I don’t want to put my head on Ged’s chopping block but if you and Tom feel like it then go ahead. Be my guest. I say we tell him about this when we get back from looting and not before. Besides, the more dead zombies the better right? The smell should keep rotters away for a long time.”
“Hey look at these two love birds!”
I felt a heavy boot press down on my arse, pushing my meat and two veg repeatedly into the dead zombie girl’s groin area. Oh man it was gross, not only could I feel my bits pressing against her cold dead… ahem… lady garden, but there was a horrible squelching sound accompanying this violation. But what the hell could I do but stay rigid, err I mean stiff, no I mean firm… oh fuck me, pretend to be dead! What could I do but pretend to be a zombie? Any kind of movement from me and the game would be up and I’d have gotten the three of us killed!
“Give it to her big guy. Oh yeah that’s right!”
“You’re fucking sick …. Funny but sick! Come on we better be moving. Are you two losers coming or are you going to go back and cry to Ged because you’re scared of a few dead zombies? I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you’ve made us go look for supplies without your van.”
“No, we’re coming. But if anything happens I’ll make sure he knows this was your call.”
The vehicles revved their engines and sped away, bumping and jolting over the fallen zombies. I pulled myself off (stop it) from the female zombie I had just been unintentionally intimate with and was joined by Dave.
“You heartless bastard John! Don’t tell me you were just going to walk away without saying goodbye? You could at least left her your number Ace. Look at her, she looks all loved up,” Dave smirked as we both looked at the dead girl and her eye that had popped out of its socket; A withered tongue poking out of her pale mouth.
Ignoring Dave I turned to Butty who was staring at the entrance to the Pavilions.
“We’ve got him John. We’ve got the bastard!”
Better Off Dead
Runcorn was now a dead town. Streets where residents once lived, parks where children once played and roads that directed traffic were now occupied by the undead, picking at the remains of corpses. Less than a week ago the town had a living population of nearly seventy thousand. Now that number closer represented the volumes of zombies. The living, were sparse and nowhere to be seen.
From behind his wheel, Ed sat rigid and silent, concentrating on the road. He manoeuvred the van, dodging meandering zombies and weaving between crashed and abandoned cars. Every once in a while, he would break concentration and take a brief moment to look at the streets around him, at the town he once loved.
Rain clouds loomed, adding to the harrowing apocalyptic scenery. Ed didn’t recognise his town anymore and the feeling of safety and comfort derived from living there was gone. He wanted out, for both himself and for Tom and now that Ged had added to his murderous party with th
e additions of Billy, Kitty, Johno and Deano, he was convinced that an opportunity to disappear unnoticed was imminent. He believed it wouldn’t be too long before they could slip away quietly and escape the company of the psychopaths they had found themselves associated with.
In contrast to Ed’s concerted and careful driving, Johno and Deano were reckless; daring each other to purposely drive their motorbikes over the heads of the many dead, hollering and whooping when the skulls of the fallen splattered and cracked under the stress of their heavy wheels.
Tom shuddered and squirmed in his seat, sinking down as low as he could in an attempt to restrict his view from their sick game.
“Just close your eyes Tom, you look ridiculous bending over like that and with the size of you, you’re never going to get down low enough. Close your eyes tight, and think about food for a while, maybe think about all the corned beef in the world! It will take your mind of those two lunatics. Plus you’re putting me off my driving,” Ed said.
Tom sat up straight and squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could; his face shaking with strain and concentration.
“Corned beef, corned beef, corned beef!” he said to himself over and over.
Ed smiled at his friend before turning his attention back to the road and Johno and Deano, who continued to scream and yell in excitement.
It was going to be a long day’s looting!
After what felt like a lifetime they arrived at their destination: Runcorn train station. Outside the station it was relatively clear apart from the corpses of course; they were now a staple of every road in Runcorn. The only things joining them were two taxi cabs, parked next to each other in the rank opposite the station entrance.
The first of the vehicles appeared abandoned but in the driver’s seat of the second taxi, sat the driver. A large man, undead and secured by his seatbelt, he was twisting his body towards the door, thrashing to break free whilst gnarling at the window.
Ed pulled over just short of the rank and watched Johno and Deano, slowly circle the two taxis before bringing their bikes to a halt and dismounting. He looked on as they taunted the zombie taxi driver, spitting at the car door window and shouting, “Bite me zombie fuck!”, and “How much from here to the Pavilions, zombie cunt?”
“They should just kill the bad man or leave him alone. He can’t hurt anyone; he’s trapped inside the car so why are they yelling at him?” Tom asked.
“Small things amuse small minds. They’ll soon get fed up of teasing him, Tom. Come on, we best get moving and catch them up. Stay close to me at all times,” Ed replied, opening the van door.
Johno and Deano, now bored with the zombie in the taxi, had made their way to the railway station entrance where they were joined by Ed and Tom. The entrance comprised of two large glass faced automatic doors.
“I say we throw the fat lad through them,” Johno snarled whilst Deano attempted unsuccessfully to lever the doors open with his hands.
Ed, closely followed by Tom moved towards the abandoned taxi and opening the driver’s door. He reached under the seat and retrieved a large heavy duty torch. It was big, the size of a police baton and as wide as an axe handle. Without warning to the others he threw it hard towards the glass doors, shattering one of the panels.
Shards of glass shot through the air as Johno and Deano scrambled for cover, diving for safety whilst shielding their faces with raised arms.
“Problem solved,” Ed smirked.
“How did you know that was going to be there?” Tom asked confused.
“There’s not a taxi driver in this town that doesn’t keep something they can use to defend themselves close to hand. Come on. Let’s go face the music,” Ed smiled, walking Tom towards the others.
“You crazy bastard, we could have been cut to shit!” Deano screamed, storming towards Ed, “You better watch yourself Ed. First you try to turn back when you saw all the dead zombies and now you pull this! You’re up to something I know it! Anymore tricks like that and maybe you won’t make it back. Maybe we kill you and your fat friend and tell Ged you were eaten by zombies and we couldn’t save you, how does that sound eh?”
Ed didn’t greet this threat with a reply and instead stood his ground, glaring at him coldly.
The four men stepped through the broken station doors; the sound of shattered glass crunching under their feet as they walked into the ticketing area.
To their right were three Perspex fronted ticketing booths and behind the middle booth, a zombie station worker repetitively slammed into the booth whilst growling hungrily at the four men.
Arrogant and cocksure, Johno and Deano approached the zombie and began teasing it as they did with the taxi driver.
“You hungry boy? Come on, try harder. COME ON!” Johno jeered.
The zombie crashed into the booth, head butting it so hard that its forehead cracked and thick congealed blood smeared against the Perspex glass. The sound made Johno jump back a few spaces before composing himself, then stepping up to the ticketing booth he prodded his finger against the glass where the zombie’s forehead was resting.
“Must try harder!” Johno grinned.
He moved away from the zombie and walked towards an automatic ticket machine, rocking it forcefully until it toppled, falling heavily onto its side. Retrieving a crowbar from inside his jacket he pelted the machine several times, smashing the front plastic panels.
“I’ve got this, you go and see what you can get out of the cash machine”, he said to Deano.
Tossing a hammer in his hand Deano ran at the cash machine and attacked it vigorously, smashing the tool into it repeatedly.
Both of them whooped and cheered as they smashed their weapons into the machines, enjoying the destruction.
Ed pulled Tom close, “let’s leave those morons to it. The fools still think there is value in money. Follow me, I know where the real bounty is.”
Ed led Tom away from the ticketing area, towards the back of the station and a large closed metal shutter.
“Behind there is enough food and water to keep us going for days. And we’re going to need it if we’re to leave,” Ed smiled, placing a hand on the big man’s shoulder.
“LEAVE! We’re going away? ESCAPING!” Tom said excitedly before Ed quickly hushed him into silence.
“We don’t belong with Ged or these guys and now is as good a chance as any. Behind this shutter is the station shop. We’ll grab what we can, load the van and make a run for it. Those two idiots will be distracted for a while. For all they know we’re loading the van with loot for Ged. We’ll be out of here before they’ve had time to notice,” Ed explained.
Ed placed a crowbar inside the bottom left corner of the shutter and pulled, creating a gap big enough for the two men to enter.
Inside the station shop they found the shelves to be fully stocked with confectionary supplies. Chocolates, snack bars, crisps, sweets and a large selection of drinks greeted them. Also welcoming them was a foul, festering stench. Tom pulled his shirt over his nose and squinted his eyes.
“What is that Ed? It smells like the day room of the old people’s home where my Grandad lives. It’s ruining my appetite!” Tom balked.
Following his nose, Ed located the ready-made food counter, containing rotting beef burgers, hotdogs and mouldy sandwiches. Initially he assumed this to be the source of the smell but approaching the counter he soon found the real cause. Behind the putrid food display, slumped on the floor was a deceased shop assistant. His stomach had been pulled apart and maggots crawled in and out of the open cavity.
For a brief moment Ed gazed at the man, mesmerised by the grotesque sight before him. Then it hit him. Something or someone must have done this to the assistant and whatever it was must still be inside the shop with them. He quickly turned to Tom to see his friend smiling back at him, a mouth full of chocolate.
“Guess what Ed; the smell hasn’t stopped me from eating after all!” he beamed.
Behind Tom was an open door giving acces
s to a stock room. Stumbling through the door came the shop manager; drying blood and thick saliva covered her mouth and blouse.
Ed was too far away to stop it and Tom, too preoccupied with food was an easy target for the approaching zombie. The first he knew of the undead manageress’s presence was when she chomped into his neck.
“No!” Ed screamed, rushing to help his friend.
Tom shrieked, such was the pain from the zombie gnawing into him. He pushed her away forcefully, sending her crashing into the metal shutters creating a loud ‘CLANG!
With tears filling his eyes Tom wailed in pain and anger began to take him. He approached the zombie and punched her hard in the face, busting her nose wide open.
He hit her again. Then again and again and again. His strikes hit with such power that after only a few punches her head was turned into a bloodied and broken mess. The zombie manageress was dead.
During the onslaught, Tom became lost in a violent frenzy and Ed, watching in shock, no longer recognised the friend he had grown to love as a brother. Never in the many years that they had been friends had he known Tom to so much as threaten anyone, never mind strike them. He was the true definition of a gentle giant and this, this was a new side to him that nobody had seen.
Tom stepped back from the dead zombie, collapsed to his knees and placed a bloodied hand over the wound on his neck.
“Am I going to be one of the bad men now Ed? I am aren’t I? That’s why I lost my temper isn’t it. The bad man in me, he’s taking over,” he whimpered.
Ed knew there was no coming back from this. It was only a matter of time before the infection took Tom and he became one of the living dead. He couldn’t let that happen, not to his friend. He couldn’t let him turn.
“What the hell is going on back there? You two better… fuck! Oh shit fat boy got bitten. You’re infected, hahaha!” yelled Johno, delighted at his discovery as he crawled through the gap in the metal shutters.
The Death in a Northern Town Trilogy (Books 1-3): Welcome To Dead Town Page 39
