Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Z-Payback

by Hatchett

  Ayla thought she might be becoming delirious. Her mind was definitely wandering. Maybe she needed a drink? She pulled off her rucksack and pulled out a bottle of water. Placing her rucksack back on, she continued on her walk, taking regular sips of her water.

  She passed some commercial bins and stopped for a few minutes to watch four of five zombies trying to catch some rats which were hanging around. It was like some sort of slapstick comedy, the stupid bloody zombies falling over each other in their bid to catch a rat. She wondered if ratatouille came from rats, a bit like chicken came from a chicken and steak came from…never mind.

  She got to Basire street. No, too early to turn, but not too far now to Arlington Avenue. She spotted a row of townhouses with black iron railings along the front, separating the basement level from the pavement. She only noticed them because a couple of zombies were impaled on them and flapping wildly. Probably a couple of suicides. Fucked up there, didn’t they? A life on the rails! God, she wished she could just get into a car. Maybe she should be praying to Allah instead. Who cared, she was an atheist, which hadn’t gone down well with her father. Everyone said, ‘Oh My God!’ or ‘OMG!’ if you were texting or something. You didn’t say ‘Oh My Allah’ did you? Didn’t sound right. What about ‘Oh My Buddha’. Nah, just didn’t have the same ring to it.

  Ramblings of a mad woman. Was she going mad? Possibly. Probably. Will this road ever bloody end?

  As she was thinking this she noticed a slight rise in the road. Looking to her left she saw open space and realised she was on some sort of bridge. She moved over towards the edge and looked down to find a canal below her. What? She must have gone too far. How did that happen? Must have been dreaming. She looked back the way she had come and realised what had happened. Arlington Avenue was closed off to traffic; someone had thought it was a good idea to dump a great big flower bed there, not that there were any flowers either. Plenty of weeds though. Well, she assumed they were. If she was being honest, she couldn’t tell a weed from a flower. In her view, if it had colour, it was a flower. If it was all green, or nearly all green, it was a weed. Still, no wonder she’d missed the turning. Didn’t really matter though, she was looking for the canal anyway.

  She looked around and spotted some steps leading down to the water and headed for them. Once on the footpath, she headed West.

  She was getting excited, knowing that she wasn’t far away now and that it wouldn’t be long until she saw Mamba again. Her pace quickened, as she went under the bridge of the road she’d just been on. The canal looked a bit shitty; green water with some sort of green stuff on the top. Must be water weeds. She didn’t think weeds could grow in water. She watched as a couple of zombies toppled into the water, ripples spreading out across the surface. She looked down but couldn’t see anything, it was too dirty. She wondered how deep it was and what the zombies were doing under there. Perhaps they’d float to the surface? Nah, otherwise there’d surely be loads of heads bobbing around.

  After a few hundred metres the path rose, and she saw a lock. The gates on each end were closed and there wasn’t very much water in it. She could see down about three metres, so the canal had to be pretty deep. At the bottom there were loads of zombies crawling about, their flesh all swollen and wrinkly from the water. God, it stunk! She noticed a metal ladder built into the wall opposite and was pleased that the zombies were too stupid to figure a way out. That would really give her nightmares; being chased by a bloated, wrinkly zombie. Reminded her of that leather clad hairless monster from the Hellraiser films which she’d mistakenly watched when she was younger. Gave her nightmares for years.

  She continued on past the lock and noticed the commercial buildings on either side of the canal. She wouldn’t want to be down here all alone on a dark night. She was beginning to wonder why Mamba had directed her here; she couldn’t believe there was any pub close by. Perhaps this was Mamba’s idea of a joke. He was taking the piss and would jump out of a hedge or something to make her jump and then laugh at her. He better bloody not.

  She trudged along under yet another bridge and came out into a whole new world. The graffiti-daubed oppressive walls right next to the path, which had marked her journey to date, had suddenly disappeared. They had been replaced by ornate black metal railings set back at the edges of a grass bank. The path was flat and unbroken and there were new apartment buildings overlooking the water. Even the narrowboats sitting in the water looked newer and better maintained and the green scum seemed to have disappeared. It was like entering a new purpose-built marina. All she needed to see now were a few ducks and she’d think everything was back to normal.

  The canal widened still further and then to her surprise she found that she’d arrived at the Waterside Pub. It looked modern too, at least from the outside. She carefully looked all around but couldn’t see anyone following her or looking in her direction. Plenty of zombies, yes, but nothing resembling a human being.

  Mamba had told her that the pub had already been cleared by him and Mamba, but Ayla had to be sure. She carefully opened the door and entered, her knife at the ready. She immediately smelt Mamba’s handiwork, and walking a few paces into the pub, spotted where the offending smell was coming from. He could have at least chucked the dead bodies into the canal or something.

  Ayla dropped her rucksack, went to fetch a drink then found a chair and took great pleasure in removing her boots to massage her feet. Thank God that trek was over. She didn’t think she could walk another metre. Where was Mamba? She assumed he’d be here. Oh well, she’d just rest up and wait. She had plenty of thinking to do; her father didn’t like or trust Mamba, but she saw him in a different light.

  71

  Day 15 – 15:15

  Dalston Estate, East London

  After the Defender had driven along Kingsland Road earlier that morning, Gina and Don had stayed on the street for over an hour, just waiting to see if Mamba crossed their paths. He didn’t, and nothing else was happening.

  Eventually, they’d both gone back into the shop and settled back in to wait. They kept in regular contact with the other teams but there was no news and Gina was beginning to think her great idea was just a waste of everyone’s time. She aired these views in a private conversation with Don who was again sitting on the floor above her. He had told her that surveillance was all about being patient and that quite often, it did end up being a waste of time, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea.

  Gina was beginning to feel a bit depressed. Apart from the hour or so wandering around outside, she’d been sitting or standing in this shop for over seven hours, and there didn’t seem to be any end in sight. Perhaps she should call it a day? No, they’d come this far, and she wasn’t about to give up yet.

  Her earpiece cracked into life and she expected it would be one of the Team Leaders providing another update about nothing. Instead it was one of Charlie Team and Gina perked up immediately.

  “Charlie three here. Might have something of interest.”

  Gina felt her spirit soar and quickly clicked her earpiece. “What have you got?”

  “We’ve just spotted a figure walking slowly along Dalston Lane, heading for the junction.”

  “Is it Mamba?” Gina asked the question which was on everyone’s minds.

  “Don’t think so, too small, possibly female.”

  “Where did she come from?”

  “No idea, one minute there was no one there, the next minute, there she is. She, if it is a ‘she’, didn’t come out of the estate.”

  “Are you sure?” Gina asked.

  “Positive,” came the response.

  “What makes you think it’s not a zombie?”

  “I haven’t seen any zombies wearing a backpack,” the soldier replied. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t one, but it just doesn’t look right. She seems to be walking with too much purpose.”

  “Can you zoom in with the binoculars?”

  “Yes, but all I can see is her back.”


  “Anyone else got eyes on?” Gina asked.

  Another voice came online. “Charlie five here. Got eyes on. Definitely female, definitely not a zombie.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In a building at the junction. She’s crossing the street and going into Balls Pond Road.”

  “Charlie eight here. On Balls Pond, got her in sight.”

  “Don’t lose her!” Gina exclaimed. “Team Charlie and Delta to the estate to cover it. Teams Alpha and Bravo to form a floating cordon around the target.”

  “Roger Gina,” all the Team Leaders confirmed.

  Within minutes there were Alpha and Bravo Team soldiers in the side roads and parallel roads either side of Balls Pond Road. They mirrored the direction Ayla was heading without getting too close. When some of the soldiers were stationery and watching, others looped ahead to cover off all possible routes their target might take.

  Gina had forgotten all about the mind-numbingly boring hours spent in the shop. Adrenaline was surging around her system and she now understood the feeling when something exciting was happening. “Can anyone identify her?”

  It didn’t take long until one of the soldiers said, “I think it’s the same woman who arrived in the Defender.”

  “So, how did she get out of the estate?” Gina wondered, but there was no response. “Tom? You there?”

  “Here Gina.”

  “Can you keep an eye on the woman to allow the teams to fall back out of sight, and can you look back at the footage to see if you can tell where she came from?”

  “Will do, Gina,” Tom confirmed.

  A few minutes later Tom came back online. “Target exited a house on Dalston Lane, opposite the estate.”

  Gina clicked her earpiece to Channel 2, so she was just talking to the Leaders, their number two’s and Heathrow. “Bear, Irish, can you arrange for someone to sweep the house carefully and report back?”

  “Will do,” Bear confirmed, “I’ll do it myself.”

  “I’m coming too,” Irish advised.

  Gina smiled to herself. Those two couldn’t help themselves, they always had to be involved in the action, just like Issy and the rest of the Leaders. But, now Gina could understand why.

  “Target just turned into Essex Road,” Tom advised.

  “Thanks Tom,” Gina replied, “Alpha and Bravo switch direction, but stay out of sight.”

  The teams continued to follow Ayla, sometimes out of sight, and sometimes getting close enough to see what she was up to.

  Half an hour later, Bear came online to confirm that they had found a tunnel under the house they had searched. The tunnel was currently closed off from the other side, so he and Irish hadn’t been able to go any further. However, there was no doubt that it led into the estate.

  At 5.30pm, a member of Team Alpha watched as Ayla enter the Waterside Pub, then updated the rest of Team Alpha and Bravo, who were all in the vicinity.

  72

  Day 15 – 17:00

  The Waterside Pub, Hoxton Canal

  Mamba sat quietly in an old white cabin cruiser he’d commandeered earlier that day, his binoculars poking through a gap in the curtains as he carefully monitored the Waterside Pub and surrounding area. The position gave him a great view and sufficient cover from prying eyes.

  He’d been lucky to find the boat right next to the entrance to the Wenlock Basin, a dead-end offshoot of the canal diagonally opposite the pub. He’d originally been looking for a speedboat, but there wasn’t a great deal of choice with narrowboats taking up most of the available space on the sides of the canal. Still, this thing had a motor and it worked, and if all went according to plan, he had his getaway craft.

  He and Ahmed had had a very busy day getting organised and prepared, and it had been a real rush to get himself in position well before Ayla appeared.

  Ayla. Although he didn’t like to admit it, he was worried about her. He’d tried to make her understand the importance of thinking one step ahead and sticking to his rules about moving around without being spotted, but he was pretty sure that she’d only heard what she wanted to hear, and it didn’t matter how much he banged on about it, she really wasn’t taking it in. He could see it in her eyes. She thought she was safe and untouchable and nothing could hurt her. The innocence of youth, or perhaps she truly believed in her father’s reputation. No one would harm the daughter of the mighty Sully. Mamba had to stop himself from laughing aloud. Fuckin’ Sully was just a grotesque, fat bastard who broke the law a bit…well a lot, but he wasn’t in Mamba’s league when it came to the serious stuff.

  Therefore, he had to assume that she would have dropped her guard and been seen; that was the sensible, and yes, perhaps paranoid, way to look at the situation. If she had been seen or picked up, then the Heathrow bastards would probably torture her until she gave him up. If she hadn’t been picked up and wasn’t being followed, then he wouldn’t need the boat. Time would tell. Plan for all eventualities. Fail to plan, plan to fail and all that shite.

  Mamba continued to watch carefully. She should be here any minute.

  It was almost another half hour before he spotted her walking along the canal path, and he was right, she had dropped all pretence of trying to blend in with her surroundings and trying to be invisible. He fuckin’ knew it! He noticed that she was limping a bit, favouring her left leg, but that was still no excuse. Mamba was annoyed. He’d wasted his time earlier. But the main thing now was to focus on the next steps.

  Mamba ran through the options in his head. Worst case, she’d been picked up, tortured and given him up, and was now leading the bastards to him. Next worst case, she hadn’t been picked up but was being followed. Best case, she’d not been picked up and wasn’t being followed. Place your bets now! Mamba didn’t need to bet. He always feared the worst, so this meant the torture scenario. He focused his glasses on her at maximum magnification but couldn’t see any bruising and the look on her face didn’t betray any concern that she was being followed and she wasn’t looking around. If she had been tortured, surely he’d be able to tell?

  He watched as she withdrew her knife as she approached the pub’s entrance. He’d told her it was safe, but it was good to see she was still taking some precautions. If she was holding her knife, then at least the bastards at Heathrow couldn’t have broken her fingers or pulled out her finger nails. The torture angle was beginning to look less likely, but you could never be sure. Injuries could be hidden beneath clothing, out of sight.

  Once she had entered the pub and closed the door behind her, Mamba went back to scouting the surrounding areas. It took him less than five minutes to spot a suspicious figure. He continued looking around and five minutes later he was absolutely sure Ayla had been followed. He now counted six or seven suspicious figures which had appeared in the area from nowhere, and whilst they looked zombie-like from a distance, they looked far too healthy and alert when examined through his binoculars. The real giveaway was that whilst their faces were splattered in blood, the untouched skin was far too pink rather than the grey deathly pallor of the zombies. Gotcha! Now it was just a question of watching and waiting to see what they would do. If they were expecting him to drop by, they were in for a very long wait.

  73

  Day 15 – 18:00

  The Waterside Pub, Hoxton Canal

  Gina was with Issy, Don and Issy’s number two, Ash, in an apartment next to Wharf Road, overlooking the Waterside Pub. A perfect vantage point to see any comings and goings, although it was beginning to get dark.

  Team Alpha and Bravo had followed Ayla at a discreet distance, with the satellite also tracking her when the clouds weren’t too dense.

  When she’d been spotted going into the pub, the teams had quickly spread out around the area, continually switching positions to reduce the chance of being spotted and they made sure they didn’t go anywhere near the pub.

  “Do you think he’s around here somewhere?” Gina asked, as she looked through her binoculars, trying to se
e if she could see anything inside the pub through the windows.

  “Without doubt,” Issy replied. “I can almost smell him. It’s clear the girl had been delivering a message to her father earlier and then arranged to meet up with Mamba. Shows that Sully is a liar, just like Mamba and the rest of them, not that we should be surprised.”

  “How long should we wait to see if he turns up?” Gina asked.

  “If he’s not already in the pub, I don’t think he will,” Issy replied. He’s like a cornered animal and, despite our best efforts, he’ll know we’re here.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  “We try and draw him out.”

  “OK. What’s the plan?”

  “We raid the pub and snatch the girl. Then he must come out of hiding to get her if he wants her. If he doesn’t, we’ve still got a big bargaining chip with Sully. Win-win.”

  “What if he’s already in there?” Gina pointed out.

  “I don’t think he’d be that stupid. Still, you never know, especially if she means more to him than we realise. That would also mean the other one will be in there as well. I guess we better be prepared for all possibilities. Do you want to give the orders?”

  Gina thought about it. She’d been in charge up until now, and done a good job, but she felt the next steps required experience. Mistakes now could ruin everything. “I think this is where you should take over Issy and I’ll watch and learn.”

  Issy smiled. “You’ve done well. We wouldn’t be here and have this opportunity if it wasn’t for you. Are you sure?”

  “I think you would have come up with a better plan,” Gina replied, “but yes, I’m sure.”