Zombie Botnet Bundle: Books 1 - 3: #zombie, Zombie 2.0, Alpha Zombie

by Al K. Line

  First they had to deal with the infected, then they could consider how to escape.

  ###

  "Right then. Al?"

  "Yes Kyle?"

  "I want you to know right now that there is going to be a lot of swearing, okay? When faced with zombie hordes I find that I forget about the swear box and get a little worked up. You going to be alright with that buddy?"

  Al pondered it for precious seconds, now not being the best time to think about an answer for too long. "Fine, but I will be adding it up and letting you know about the money being owed later on."

  "Right you are then, as long as we are cool, let's get these motherfuckers."

  "Ten pence," said Al. He couldn't help himself, honest he couldn't.

  Preparations had been made to the best of their abilities in such a short space of time.

  A ladder rested against the wall facing out towards the majority of the infected, once used it could be pulled up onto the wall. There was a large sledgehammer next to it, and a variety of weapons too. Ven was at the upstairs window peering out at the guys. She was under strict instructions to stay inside and guard Tomas while Kyle and Al got about what was sure to be a very gruesome business.

  "Let's do this thing," said Kyle, climbing up the ladder and readying himself. He had with him a huge backpack full of shotgun cartridges and a number of knives just in case. He also carried the break action shotgun itself, along with his trusty mace. Once at the top of the wall he placed the mace and bag of ammo down on the wall carefully. He stood on a pier, a thick buttress on the wall designed to keep it sturdy over its long length.

  The top of the wall was loose under foot in places. Hundreds of years of brick and mortar exposed to the Welsh weather had begun to take its toll. Moss grew in patches, making the wall soft and treacherous. And the view didn't help either. Kyle wasn't an acrophobic but the fact that he was peering down into the valley from a thirteen foot high wall gave an unnerving sense of being a lot higher up than he actually was. The zombie hordes did little to settle his stomach either.

  "Ready, aim, fire!" shouted Kyle pointlessly, as he was the only one firing. He blew the head clean off the nearest zombie on the outer side of the wall. "Ready Al? Get demolishing."

  "I am knocking down the wall now, just a little Kyle," said Al, swinging the sledgehammer at the wall and making a reasonably sized hole in one fell swoop. He winced at the pain in his left shoulder, he would pay for the burden he was to place on his wound, but he ignored it for now and got to business.

  The hordes were rabid on the other side. They could see and smell Kyle — also picking up on the scent of Al within the boundaries of the walled garden. They surged forward, the hole only large enough for one of them to squeeze through at a time. Once inside the confines of the garden Al simply took them out with a mighty swing of the sword Ven had used too often of late. He was very effective with it, although he did keep putting it down to use his hands, he merely felt more comfortable that way.

  Kyle continued to load and fire the shotgun, missing a lot more of the infected than he hit, but he did lower the numbers a fair amount. He slowly got into the groove of loading and removing the cartridges once spent, a pile building below as he discarded the used casings.

  Gradually the opening Al had made was clogged up, too many were trying to get inside at one time, and Al had bashed their brains in when they were part way through, making it impossible for other infected to gain access. Kyle had told him to wait until they were well inside the perimeter, it would be easier to target them and Al wouldn't have to do all the killing. But the big guy kept getting carried away and dispatching the infected the second they poked their heads through the wall.

  "Al, Al," shouted Kyle. "Make the hole bigger, we need to get them inside. I am a crap shot and they need to be contained so we can pick them off easier. And let them run around a bit, that way I can get a shot at them. I can't shoot the buggers if you are standing next to them, I'm not too great at aiming with this thing."

  "Okay Kyle, I am doing a big swing of the hammer now."

  After smashing his giant fist into the face of a seventy nine year old Granny, that used to work part time in the local Barnado's charity shop in town, Al hefted the sledgehammer and proceeded to make what to Kyle was rather too large a hole if he was being critical.

  The infected poured into the walled garden.

  While the scene of carnage and utter mayhem continued to unfold all Ven could do was watch and worry from the upstairs window. It was about the best plan they could come up with, at least this way they were containing the infected to some degree — so the guys had a better chance of picking them off. But all it took was one slip-up and it could be over for either Al or Kyle, or both of them. It seemed like she held her breath for a lifetime — watching as they beat, shot, sliced and mutilated the numerous infected pouring through the hole in the wall.

  Al was tiring, he was dealing with too many of them too quickly, and the smell of them was making him very dizzy too. It was getting a little too much and he would really be liking a sandwich and a fizzy drink now please. His shoulder was screaming, his broken nose kept pouring blood, and his bruised face was swelling even more, making it hard to focus properly on the task at hand.

  No time for that though, here they come, more and more people driven insane by the zombie botnet now totally focused on devouring Al and his brain at the first opportunity.

  Al soon had no choice, he had to climb up the ladder which Kyle lowered quickly for him. Once on the top of the wall Al pulled it up behind him, panting, beads of sweat pouring down his ruined face. He looked nightmarish. His breath was ragged, his chest heaving. His forearms were gorged with blood from all the death-dealing and so pumped up the veins seemed to have a life of their own. Gore and blood covered his clothes, his face was splattered with blood and he had a manic look in his eyes. He really needed some carbs.

  "Shit, you alright there Al, you look a bit funny dude?" asked Kyle, worried for the big man's health.

  "T... t... ten... pence" wheezed Al, never too far gone for the swear box.

  Kyle grinned. "That's more like it dude, take a seat Al, just keep your legs up where the buggers can't grab them though."

  Al sat down, crossing his legs, pulling up his socks so they were at the same height on his shins, and stared at the scene below.

  It was a total bloodbath already, but they had hardly even begun. The once beautiful lawn was covered in gore — stained crimson with blood. Dead lay everywhere, some in piles, some on their own — some were without limbs or heads, depending on who had given them their final release. Al was very strong, and when he wielded the sword he was prone to slice right through his prey, chopping bits off until they gave up and had the good grace to finally die.

  The turf now looked like a viscous rugby match had just been played, it showed bare earth in large clumps and the flower borders were totally decimated. Vegetables were hidden underneath people that had been infected and turned into flesh eating maniacs by doing nothing more than accessing their favorite pornographic site while they should have been at work — a rather harsh punishment for such a crime.

  Over the next few hours all that could be heard apart from the moaning of the dwindling zombie horde was the sound of a shotgun ringing out. After an hour Kyle was exhausted, the gun weighing heavily and his shoulder in agony from the strain and recoil the shotgun gave. The recoil pad was next to useless, it wasn't exactly an up-to-date weapon, just a firearm used over the years to shoot the odd rabbit and keep vermin down. For a novice he had done well, but his body was already paying the price. Al took over, a surprisingly good shot for one that had never used a firearm in his life before, and who had been shot and beaten just hours earlier. As the numbers dwindled he climbed down from the ladder and finished off the remaining 37 zombies at close range. It meant he didn't miss — thus saving cartridges.

  It was disconcerting to watch as it was obvious Al was enjoying himself,
and with both Ven and Kyle knowing that he certainly had some developmental problems they were both understandably a little perturbed. He was effective and efficient though, so after a few more minutes Kyle climbed down, finishing off any infected that they had not sent into oblivion, overlooked because of the confusion of bodies.

  "I think you can let us in now Ven," Kyle shouted up to the window. "That seems to be all of them."

  "Right you are, I will be down in a moment."

  Kyle quickly climbed back up the ladder, taking a final look around to see if there were any more infected close by. It seemed clear, there were a number roaming about rather aimlessly in the distance or at the bottom of the steep slope of the land, but they were not an immediate threat.

  He needed a lie down before he fell down — he was shattered.

  "Wow, what a fucking bloodbath," gasped Ven, as she took stock of the nightmare that was once a pleasant lawn with nice flower borders. "It's not exactly somewhere to have a picnic any more is it?"

  "Ten pence," said Al, back to taking note of any bad language.

  "Well done though guys, I can't believe how many of them there were, you two did brilliant."

  Kyle and Al were worn ragged, they needed to get away from the scene of devastation and eat, and drink something with a lot of sugar in it too.

  "Sandwich?" asked Ven, thinking it would also be a good time for the guys to take a shower. They were plastered from head to foot in half dried blood and shards of bone, goops of brain, and who knew what else. She shuddered involuntarily.

  "A plate full I think," replied Kyle, looking like he was going to keel over at any moment.

  Al nodded in agreement, the whites of his eyes stark against the darkness of his blood drenched face. The big man looked like he would eat the fridge itself if sustenance was not soon provided.

  "Right you are then, c'mon."

  Ven closed the door behind them as they staggered into the kitchen.

  The garden was covered in bodies that had been turned to mush because of her actions. The reek was all pervasive and the flies were already beginning to descend. In a few hours the bodies would be covered in carrion loving crows from the surrounding countryside. They would begin to putrefy fast in the warm air once the birds began to consume their grisly meals in abundance.

  The manor house was no longer a pleasant place to be. It had turned into a festering, and very final, resting place for this minuscule number of zombies that Ven had infected because of her desire to mess with people's lives — just to better her own.

  Life never goes to plan, but it was a burden that weighed heavier by the day as the realities of the world she created became more and more gruesome.

  Knock Knock...

  "Who's there?"

  "It's us. Um, Kyle and Bos Bos. Can we come in?" said Kyle in a low voice, just in case Tomas was sleeping.

  Ven was in her room cuddling Tomas — just thinking. She had decided, after much soul searching and changing her mind back and forth, that she still wanted to find a way to get Online. So she was trying to go through the possible ways she could do it. First and foremost she had to find a place that actually had an Internet connection. Phones were out — the mobile network had gone down fast, it was the first of the networks to crash.

  Power was down for the local Internet connection — needed to get to the main data centers, but she was sure that in larger towns and cities, where connections and infrastructures were more robust, she would be able to get Online with no problems.

  But then what?

  Was any of it worth the risk? Could she risk her baby boy having to cope without a mother, and leave his upbringing to Kyle? It was certainly a huge amount to put at stake.

  This is fucking daft, thought Ven. Leaving here is stupid, we are safer than lots of places, even if white collar twats try to mess with our shit. Trying to get back Online is about the most dangerous thing I could possibly do.

  But still, it was gnawing away at her, and she knew that at some point she would have to figure out a solution — find a way to connect to the Web once more. She was also wondering if there would ever be a place she could call home again. The manor house now held nothing but bad memories. Mainly due to Cassie, but also because of the things she had done here, torture for one, plus the very recent events that led to Al coming home to them, even if it was in the most terrifying of ways. What happened after he returned didn't even bear thinking about. She hadn't been in the garden since, that was for sure.

  Apart from the mass killings she felt the whole place was an insult to her dead sister, now buried below a scene of total massacre. It was not the peaceful resting place she had envisioned it to be.

  But she was right, they couldn't stay. It was certainly an extremely unhealthy environment. The smell of the now permanently dead zombies was almost impossible to bear. And it had only been a day. It would be too intense to breathe the air without gagging in another day or two. The smell of 137 properly dead people was an aroma that was impossible to accurately describe. As they began to swell, in some instances even 'pop', the odors were overpowering.

  Their open sores, cuts, and bits of mangled body from before they were killed at the manor house stank already. Add to that the insects feasting, the hundreds of birds tearing gobbets of flesh and swallowing, and she had even seen a few rats already; which meant the house would soon be overrun with them.

  Urine and feces added to the smell considerably. Now the warm weather was making the garden a scene of impossible horror, limbs tangled, heads open to expose brains. Numerous sword, mace, and shotgun wounds riddled the corpses, all bringing forth swarms of flies and other insects, buzzing excitedly at the unexpected bounty they had to feast upon.

  What was needed was a relatively secure way to get away from the house; Ven simply couldn't for the life of her think what that could be. Driving seemed extremely dangerous under the circumstances, there were still plenty of zombies roaming around the grounds, they had got nowhere near all of them into the garden, just the majority of them is all. But they were going to have to leave, and that meant driving away in their vehicles. After seeing what happened to the two instigators of their current predicament Ven didn't relish the thought one iota.

  "So," said Kyle, "I have a cunning plan." Giving his favorite TV quote of all time and grinning from ear to ear. His body caught the sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window, a long shadow cast behind him and out into the corridor.

  "About what?"

  "About us leaving dodge and going on the road, young lady," said Kyle. "Would Madame care to hear the fucking excellent plan this young gentleman has devised? It's gonna blow your overpriced and ridiculous socks off."

  Ven looked down at her Twatterelli socks, only $130 from her favorite Online store: Twatastically, wondering what on earth Kyle was talking about. Her socks were the best possible quality and they rocked!

  "Let's hear it then, young man, one would love to hear of a cunning plan designed to blow this young lady's really rather gorgeously delightful socks off. But do forgive this delicate flower if she doth swoon at such a wondrous tale she is forthwith to hear."

  "Okay, okay, but enough with the Darcy crap first," said Kyle. "You do know how to take things a little too far you know."

  "Moi," said a wide-eyed and innocent as a newborn Ven.

  "Si, tu."

  "Fine, get the fuck on with it then you dick. Better? You started it though, so there!" Ven stuck out her tongue at Kyle.

  "Yeah you old bag, much," said Kyle, glad to be back to talking normally again. It was good to get a bit of the old relaxed banter back after what they had all been through.

  Ven sat there waiting to hear of the plan Kyle had formulated. She couldn't help but notice how different he looked nowadays. Deep tan, less awkward, filling out with some nice muscle on his frame. Still the same crap haircut and dodgy clothes though — you couldn't expect miracles.

  He had grown up so much over the past... How l
ong had it been?

  Kyle had been through a lot, which had certainly meant a fast-track in terms of becoming a real grown-up man, that was for sure. Ven was proud of how well he had dealt with all that this horrible new world had thrown at him. And he now had the knowledge he was a father as well. Talk about a lot for one young guy to handle.

  Was it really just a matter of weeks since this all began? Ven had lost track of time. How could so much happen so quickly?

  It didn't seem possible to her if she thought about it. For her own sanity it was best not to if she was honest.

  Kyle made a bit of a fuss of getting comfortable on the large four poster bed next to Ven. Sinking into the soft mattress and absentmindedly stroking the head of his son.

  He cleared his throat.

  "Ahem. I shall begin. I think you are going to like what I have come up with. I know Al does, he's already got the beginning of the next chapter of our journey planned out, he can't wait."

  And so the cunning plan was discussed, argued over, agreed upon, argued over again. Discussed some more, worried about, ranted about, finally definitely agreed upon. To make it a done deal they shook hands on it.

  Well, almost. Kyle spat in his palm and went to shake Ven's hand.

  "Kyle, what the FUCK do you think you are doing? That is seriously gross!" said Ven. Totally and utterly horrified.

  "What? It's how you do a deal you twonk," said Kyle perplexed.

  "Wipe it off please," said Ven. "It's how you do a deal if you are a fucking mental, not if you give a shit about your own cleanliness, jeez."

  "Fine, no need to get your knickers in a twist."

  Kyle wiped it off. Ven, not convinced wiping his hands on his jeans was good enough, handed him a baby wet-wipe for good measure — then they shook on it.