I had planned to go in at them from behind as they’d attacked Darren. Plan A had been ruined. So instead of ploughing into them, my flight instinct dictated what plan B was. To run away like a pussy.
Now at this point I was already going full tilt, so stopping and running the opposite way wasn’t going to work, so I veered off towards the left of them and started running clockwise around the courtyard, with the deedaz snapping at my heals. As I was fleeing, Darren, who was in the process of exterminating one of his targets, locked eyes with me for a split second, his mouth open with disbelief at my predicament. I’m sure I saw the beginnings of a head shake as I turned away to concentrate on the uneven surface ahead of me.
‘How the fuck did this happen?’ I asked myself as I did another lap of the small piazza.
I could hear the deedaz behind me getting closer. Again, my inability to keep up my cardio over the past weeks was beginning to tell. My legs started to weigh heavier with each step. A phantom burning sensation began on the back of my neck. I’d felt this feeling before when the sniper was shooting at me back at Boulmer. The expectation of feeling a bullet enter my person at any moment made the back of my head burn with awful anticipation. Now the expectation of filthy chipped and jagged teeth ripping chunks out of my neck burned fiercely. A bullet in the head would be much preferable to being eaten alive, any day.
As I was beginning to come to terms with my inevitable doom, two small dark shapes darted past in my peripheral vision. From behind me came the sound of ferocious snarling and the crack of faces hitting pavement. I dared a quick look behind and was pleased to see I was no longer being run down.
Rocket and Rosie had interceded in my Tom and Jerry adventures and had taken it upon themselves to trip and detain the chasing zeds by pulling at their worn and tattered trousers. They most likely did this out of embarrassment of their new master’s ineptitude.
I quickly pushed my shame away and ran over to aid my unlikely saviours by putting an end to their quarry with a few clumsy hacks to their heads with my hatchet. I relaxed and then lay down next to the dogs, when I saw Darren had completed the slaughter and was making his way over to us. Rocket and Rosie sat loyally at my feet as I tried to get my breath back.
‘What the actual fuck Carter?’ Darren asked as he sat down next to me.
‘What do you mean mate?’ I replied as if nothing was amiss.
‘You, playing fucking catchy kissy with ya mates. I swear to god, I could hear the fuckin Benny Hill theme tune playing when I saw you running away from them.’
‘Yeah, whatever mate. It was all part of my plan. Just testing to see what the dogs would do,’ I replied as a I sat up and vigorously stroked the dogs. ‘Isn’t that right little doggies? Nasty Darren didn’t want you, did he. He was going to leave you but daddy Carter wouldn’t let him. What a horrid twat he is.’
Darren laughed and stood up. ‘Come on, the castle will be waiting. Our hour is nearly up.’
‘What’s the plan?’ I asked as I stood and followed him towards the open barn.
‘We’re going to do what we do best and blow shit up!’
‘Cool.’
Darren stalked into the darkened barn, gun up, and cleared it without any problems. He then reached into his rucksack, pulled out two brick-shaped items and laid them on the floor in the centre of the barn. After a minute of fiddling with the bricks he looked up at me.
‘What?’ I asked.
He didn’t answer. What he did do was the best impersonation of Captain Jack Sparrow I’ve ever seen – scarper away from the bricks and run out of the doors. I looked down at the bricks and the timer that was counting down from thirty. Fuck!
I hightailed it after Darren and quickly urged Rocket and Rosie, who’d been faithfully guarding the door, to follow me as I ran past them. Which they did.
It didn’t take us long to catch up to Darren, who was hiding behind an abandoned tractor in the middle of the field that led back to the Mastiff. I scooted up next to him and grabbed the dogs into a bear hug, mentally counting down the seconds.
Now, you’d think by now I’d be used to large explosions and their effects. To be honest I don’t think anyone could ever get used to the concussive barrage that squeezes the very marrow from your bones. Well, apart from Darren, that is.
As I sat there dazed and confused, he dragged me to my feet and began pushing me in all haste back toward the Mastiff and our travelling companions.
‘Give me a minute mate,’ I mumbled groggily.
‘We haven’t got time,’ he said as he pointed toward the castle.
The grassed slope that led down to the river was a mass of sprinting deedaz. Thousands of them. All running towards the huge explosion we’d created. And ultimately towards us too.
The grogginess in my head cleared instantly and Darren, the dogs and I, ran as fast as we could back to the Mastiff and arrived just as the horde reached the river at the bottom of the valley.
As we approached Darren shouted up to Andy, who had been covering us from the 6x6. ‘Andy, jump back in the Land Rover and stay close behind us. We’re driving through the town centre.’
Andy climbed down and jumped into the 4x4 with Bobby and Josh.
After I’d scooped the dogs up into the passenger footwell I climbed in and Darren drove us quickly away from the dead swarm and on into the town of Alnwick. A couple of minutes later we came to a junction in the road. Right would take us through an ancient gate house and down the main street, which led to the road we needed to take to continue our journey west and onward to the bothy. Left would take us back towards the A1 motorway and a large retail park.
Darren stopped at the junction and turned the engine off.
‘What’s up?’ I asked.
‘We still need information.’
‘And?’
Darren started the engine again and turned left. ‘I just want to check something out.’
As we trundled off towards whatever Darren wanted to see I turned in my seat to check on our passengers in the back. Josh’s two friends were still vigilantly keeping watch through the gun ports on each side of the vehicle. Sarah sat closest to the hatch that led to the driver’s cabin. Jenna and Donna, who were having a suspiciously quiet conversation, sat next to each other in the cramped cabin beside the supplies. Strangely, when they realised I’d turned round, they immediately stopped their feverish whispering and I received black looks from both of them.
This was getting beyond a joke. We’d saved them from a fate worse than death. A life of servitude, molestation and the very bleak future that had awaited them. Instead of gratitude, we received nothing but contempt.
I could understand it coming from Donna after the bollocking she’d received from Darren earlier, but Jenna? It was slowly dawning on me that all those restless nights pining for her were an utter waste of time. She wasn’t the girl I knew before. The girl I shared everything with. My life, my love, my secrets. It was as if she was blaming her experience with Gippa on me! To be fair she’d never have been with him if I hadn’t of been such a dick and left her, but how was it my fault that she’d chosen to move on with a psychopath? The inner turmoil I was experiencing was becoming too much for me to bear. We were in dire straits and I needed my head in the game. I didn’t have time for this shit. It was time to have it out with her.
As I was opening my mouth to air my frustrations, Darren said, ‘There it is.’
I turned round. In front of us, blocking the road, was a jack-knifed articulated lorry. Around it stood around thirty deedaz.
‘I think we just found the castle’s scavenger party,’ Darren stated as he brought the Mastiff to a stop and turned off the engine.
‘Goose, Maverick.’
‘Go ahead Maverick.’
‘Multiple stinkaz up ahead. Think you can squeeze past us and be pied piper? Over.’
‘Not a problem, but where will I lead them to? That road leads to the motorway and its total gridlock. Over.’
‘Get past the throng then take a right into where the truck they’ve surrounded was headed. Over.’
‘How the hell am I supposed to know where it was going? Over.’
Darren proceeded to advise Andy not so politely to ‘read the fucking side of the trailer’.
‘Ah, I see. Over,’ came Andy’s reply.
Darren was still paranoid about potential eavesdroppers listening in on our radio transmissions.
The name of the supermarket that the truck was en route to when the world ended was emblazoned on its side. The supermarket in question could be seen in the distance and Andy was to entice the deedaz away and lead them a merry dance in its carpark.
He manoeuvred past the Mastiff and slowly crept towards the dead. It didn’t take long for them to hear the gravely engine of the 4x4. As soon as they did Andy punched it and gathered speed, taking out four of the forerunners of the now frenzied group of deedaz. Every one of them a galloper, they followed Andy en masse.
Darren started the engine and pulled up to the back of the jack-knifed lorry.
As we stepped down to the road Darren shouted, ‘Anyone alive in there?’
‘We are armed and these are our supplies,’ was the answer.
To which Darren replied, ‘One, you may be armed but you’ve obviously run out of ammo or you’d have blasted your way out of there before now. Two, we don’t want your supplies, we’re here to help and three, we haven’t got a lot of time left before the stinkaz return. Lastly, we’re friends of Sergeant Murphy and we’ve just removed the majority of the dead from the walls of the castle.’
At this the rear doors of the lorry slowly opened and out of the gap came the filthy face of young man, no more than twenty years of age. Covering his eyes from the intense sunlight he climbed down cautiously, quickly glancing back into the wagon before walking towards us. Next came two women, one who looked to be in her late thirties and the other around the same age as the young man and wearing a bobble hat. All three were dressed in camo gear and all three wearing chainmail shirts.
‘Nice threads,’ I said, impressed with the ingenious armour they wore. A deeda would definitely have a hard time biting through the steel garb.
‘Yeah, they’re heavy but worth their weight in gold,’ the young man answered as he walked towards us, offering me his hand to shake.
We went on to introduce ourselves. The boy’s name was Freddy; his accomplices were Martha and Dizzy, Martha being the youngest. The group had been trapped inside the back of the lorry for six days and had been living on the bountiful supplies inside.
‘Apart from the embarrassment of shitting in a bucket in front of each other we’ve been relatively comfortable,’ Freddy told us while taking a deep breath of the fresh clean air.
As we filled him in on our escapades back at the castle Darren suddenly brought Bessy up to his shoulder and aimed it towards the direction we’d travelled from. In the distance a bright red pickup truck thundered towards us.
‘Don’t worry,’ Freddy said as he laid a hand on Darren’s shoulder. ‘They’re from the castle.’
A minute later the pickup pulled up beside us and the driver’s door opened. My jaw literally (well, metaphorically actually) hit the floor when I saw the man who appeared.
Now let it be known that I am and always have been a staunch heterosexual, but the guy that stepped out was the most handsome bloke I’d ever seen. He wouldn’t have been out of place in a Hollywood blockbuster or one of the cast from Baywatch. I hated the fucking wanker already.
‘Reaper I presume?’ He asked as he walked towards Darren, hand outstretched, brilliant white teeth smiling.
‘Spud?’ Darren replied.
‘Yes sir, Sergeant Gary Murphy of the Light Dragoons at your service. I can’t thank you enough for your help ... ?’
‘Darren, and this is Carter.’
Spud shook my hand firmly and then embraced Freddy and the girls.
The passenger door of the pickup opened and an old wizened man climbed out and reached into the flatbed of the pickup and lifted out a Gerry can and what looked to be a car battery.
‘This is Sammy, he’s going to get the lorry started up so we can drive it back to the castle,’ Spud told us.
Sammy gave a wry nod and made his way to the front of the lorry.
Spud turned to Freddy. ‘Freddy, go with him and watch his back. Here,’ he said as he passed him a pistol. ‘Try not to use it though. We’ve not got a lot of ammo left.’
With a nod, Freddy followed after Sammy.
‘So, judging by the way you knew my nickname was Spud and with your use of military radio protocol, I’m guessing you’re ex forces?’ Spud asked Darren.
‘Yep, Hereford mate,’ Darren replied.
The look of respect from Spud when hearing this was plain to see.
What followed soon bored me to tears though. The regaling of stories about tours in Afghanistan spurred me into going to check on our passengers. Even knowing that all I had waiting for me there were dirty looks and mind games, it was still more favourable than staying with Darren and Spud talking in acronyms and abbreviations.
‘Get a fucking room,’ I mumbled jealously as I left them.
I opened the door of the Mastiff and Rocket and Rosie leapt down and went about marking their territory.
The cabin of the 6x6 was stifling. ‘Do you want to get some fresh air?’ I asked the occupants in the back.
The two boys hurriedly squeezed past me and clambered up onto the roof to keep look out. I was beginning to like them and made a note to myself to ask them their names at the next opportunity. As the girls roughly pushed past me, I asked Jenna if I could have a word, to which her reply was, ‘I’ve nothing to say to you Ray.’
With that, she followed Donna to a path at the side of the road and continued their whispering while looking the castle group up and down. When she laid eyes on Spud, Donna nudged Jenna with her elbow. I watched her reaction intently and I’m not going to lie, I was relieved to see that the chiselled features of Mr Perfect had no effect on Jenna at all.
Sarah climbed out of the back and into the driver’s seat.
‘How goes it?’ she asked.
‘Good, Darren is getting some info for our journey,’ I replied.
‘We’re still going to the brothy? Wouldn’t it be safer in the castle?’
‘Ha, it’s bothy and yes, we’re still going. I for one don’t like the idea of being trapped inside that place. It’s better if we’re mobile.’
After we’d chewed that fat for half an hour about the pros and cons of ‘the brothy’, the noise of the lorry starting up spurred everyone into action.
Our passengers returned to the Mastiff and Darren made his way back to us, followed by Spud.
‘Carter pass me out a couple of SA80s, a few handguns and a couple of crates of corresponding ammo.’ Before I could climb into the back to retrieve the items, they were passed through to me by Josh’s ever vigilant friends.
Before we went our separate ways, Spud climbed up and shook my hand.
‘Thanks again Carter. Darren speaks very highly of you. Look after each other and I’ve no doubt you’ll all make it. Have a good journey and if you change your minds about settling down you’re welcome at the castle, anytime.’
Again, Darren and I were on the same page. He’d obviously told Spud we were still proceeding with our trip westwards.
Once the lorry and pickup had left, Darren radioed Andy.
‘Goose, Maverick, over.’
‘Go ahead Maverick, over.
‘Mission complete. Bring it home. Over.’
‘Thank god for that. I was starting to get dizzy driving round in circles. Be there in two. Out.’
Moments later Andy pulled up alongside us and Darren told him to fall in line and follow.
We drove back towards the town centre, turned left just before the ancient gatehouse that led to the main street and skirted the now empty town. Not long after, we passed
the final house and headed west towards Rothbury.
Darren relaxed and radioed Andy to take point again and scout the route.
Chapter Seven
‘What’s the plan Carter? It’s getting late. Think we should press on and head for the bothy or find shelter for the night?’
The pride of being asked by Darren about our next move visibly puffed out my chest. Here was the baddest mother fucker on the planet asking my advice. Deep down I knew he’d probably made the decision already and he was testing me, but the people in the back didn’t know that. I pondered the question for a moment. It was late afternoon now and the summer sun was beginning its lazy decent towards our direction of travel. In safer times the journey to the bothy would have taken no more than an hour and a half, but things had changed now. We’d been traveling since noon and were still only around ten miles from Boulmer. Fair enough, we’d been distracted with the liberation of the castle and the subsequent saving of the scavenger party, but what was to say something else wouldn’t pop up.
We were heading now into the centre of Northumberland where the likelihood of survivors grew enormously. Remote towns, villages and farms may have been untouched by the undead plague. Each one a very definite danger to us. Law and order were no more. Civilisation as we knew it, gone. It was now a dog-eat-dog world and we could ill afford to take the chance of driving through or past these potential hazards during the night.
Before I formulated a plan I asked Darren, ‘What did your boyfriend have to say? Any info on the route?’
‘My boyfriend. He he he! You’re not jealous are you batty boy? He’s too good looking for me bud. I like my men ugly as fuck. That’s why I chose you.’
‘Funny. Well, what did he say about our journey west? Has he heard anything?’
‘Not a lot mate, other than they were in radio contact with a group that were seeking refuge three weeks ago. Spud told them they were welcome but they never turned up. The last radio contact with them was cut short and Spud was positive he’d heard a gunshot before the line went dead.’
It's Grim Up North (Book 3): The Journey Page 6
