When There's No More room In Hell: A Zombie Novel

by Luke Duffy

  The defences had no depth other than the tank and the machinegun position. If attacked, the men in the front line defences had no fall back positions and no one to support them as they moved. Normally, there would be at least a second line of defences to the rear of the main line, creating depth.

  The heavy machinegun on the hill, though in a good position to cover the track and support the defensive positions in front of them, didn't look to be manned with any discipline. Neither Marcus nor any of the others could see anyone manning the gun and observing their arcs of fire.

  It was more than likely that they conducted a passive sentry duty, and instead of being proactive and watching the approaches, pushing out clearance patrols now and then, they just reacted when and if they were warned by the troops closer to the river of people approaching. Maybe they had become complacent from boredom?

  Marcus also noted that the Dushka would have to be mounted on a tripod because of its size, weight and recoil when fired, meaning that from its position, it could cover the river, but nothing directly below it on the slope of the hill due to the lack of depression in the tripod it rested on.

  For hours, the four of them sat and watched the routine of the Turks on the opposite bank. Now and then, they would see troops walking in and around the buildings scattered along the Northern side of the track that led up from the river.

  They identified what appeared to be the command centre. A single storey mud hut to the right and slightly to the rear of the defensive positions had an array of antennas and wires outside and on top of the roof. People seemed to be coming and going constantly from the building.

  There were two guards who patrolled the riverbank. They walked from East to West for a hundred metres, then turned and headed back. Normally they would then sit by a low stone wall and smoke cigarettes and chat. They both seemed to be more interested in their conversations and smoking than actually being alert and a forward warning to their comrades.

  As they watched, they saw a man and a woman approaching along a track that ran close to the river on the Iraq side. They walked slowly and apprehensively, picking their way through the bodies and vehicles that surrounded them as they moved closer to the crossing point. They were not infected from what Marcus could tell, and there was a young girl of no more than four years old with them, who he presumed was their daughter.

  The soldiers that were sitting by the wall saw them approach and stood. They hollered something to the rear and a few more soldiers appeared, swaggering confidently as they eyed the approaching family.

  They waved for the family to cross and come closer. As the man and woman reached the far side with the child in tow, the soldiers began to crowd around them, laughing and jostling one another, clearly drunk.

  They started to push and shove the man and before long, someone hit him, knocking him to the ground. The others began to kick and beat him with the butts of their rifles. They laughed whenever one of their comrades failed to connect with a good enough hit for their liking and encouraged each other along, giving tips on how to give the perfect butt stroke. The man, at first, repeatedly tried to stand under the blows, but eventually he was left in a heap and lay bleeding from numerous cuts to his head and face.

  The little girl was crying and clinging to her mother’s leg for protection. One of the soldiers, having lost interest in using the man as a human football, grabbed the little girl from her mother and dragged her away. He forced her to sit on the ground and then dragged the man over, who was almost unconscious, and threw him down beside her.

  The men closed in around the woman. At first they shoved her from one to the other and laughed as they tugged at her clothing. She was terrified and she cried and pleaded as they battered her to the ground.

  They crowded in on her and ripped the remaining clothes away from her exposing her pale, soft skin. She tried in vain to cover herself by holding her hands across her breasts and between her legs.

  The men grabbed her arms and legs and splayed her across the ground and began to take it in turns raping her, all the time, her husband and daughter forced to watch at gunpoint. Her screams echoed around the hills, and eventually she had become limp and silent as they continued to beat and ravish her.

  Marcus, Stu, Ian and Hussein watched in horror. Their faces tense, and Stu pulled away and sagged down the embankment, refusing to watch anymore.

  When the soldiers had had their fill, they stood and walked back to the husband and young girl, laughing and joking, slapping each other’s backs and congratulating each other on their masculinity while the woman lay whimpering and curled up in the foetal position, bleeding profusely from between her legs.

  They dragged the woman and her husband and child to the river where they were dumped together, side by side and face down. A soldier, who seemed to do most of the talking and appeared to be the highest rank of the group, pulled a pistol from his belt and shot each one in turn through the back of the head without so much as a blink, then waved to a couple of his men and gestured to the bodies. The men nodded and dragged the family to the riverside and dumped them into the water, allowing the current to wash them away downstream.

  “Fucking bastards.” Ian’s face was clenched and Marcus saw small traces of tears well in his eyes.

  “That's settled then,” Marcus announced. “We hit the fuckers.”

  Marcus and Ian split from Stu and Hussein, leaving them in position to continue observing while they decided to move to the West along the river, in an attempt to find a secluded crossing point that could be forded on foot and would give them cover from view.

  They wanted a narrow point of the river that was not too deep or fast flowing that would cause them to be swept away when they tried to cross. Three hours later and they approached Stu and Hussein from the rear.

  “Stu,” Marcus whispered from ten metres away trying to get his attention. “Stu, you deaf shit.”

  This time Stu turned around.

  Marcus held up a thumb to him, asking if all was okay. Stu returned the gesture and Marcus signalled for him and Hussein to move back to him and Ian.

  Once they were all together, they made their way back through the village and to the rest of the group where they collated all the information they had gathered.

  Sini began to heat up some water for them to make coffee and tea and prepared some food from the rations.

  “What we got then guys?” Jim was keen to know what they had seen.

  Marcus sat down on a box and everyone gathered around with chocolate bars and mugs of tea while he explained the situation, using the map to point to positions they had plotted.

  “We've got a defensive position on the far bank, with one tank that we can see and a heavy mounted machinegun, and roughly twenty infantry in defensive positions.”

  He then went on to give details of their layout, weapons, communications, discipline and routine. At the end he told them about what they had done to the family who had crossed the river.

  Curses and mutterings went around the team as they pondered what they had just heard.

  “We are gonna take them on aren’t we, Marcus?” Yan wanted to know.

  Marcus looked up and eyed each team member in turn. “Well, what you all think? We have to cross somewhere. We won’t get far on foot so, what do you think?”

  “Fuck it, I'm up for it,” Stu said.

  Jim was just as keen. “Hell yeah. Let’s nail `em.”

  The team were in unison. They all wanted to attack the position. All they had to do now was work out how to do it.

  Marcus already had a basic plan in his head and Stu suspected that he knew what he had in mind.

  18

  It had been two days since Steve and his small band of refugees had arrived at the Safari Park. They had settled in amongst the many rooms available and he had made a point of making sure that Jennifer and Helen’s rooms were close by.

  He felt accountable for them and he had to stop and check himself now and then. It had ta
ken the world falling apart for him to see himself as a responsible leader, but he was far from uncomfortable with it. In fact, it gave him a higher sense of purpose.

  Maybe I should’ve joined the army after all? he thought.

  On the first night, most of the people in the mansion had gathered to hear what news, if any, could be gained from the steadily faltering networks that still remained on air. A large TV screen had been placed in the main foyer, and although it was on for the majority of the day anyway, it had become a sort of ritual for everyone to congregate around it at the same time every evening.

  Everybody watched intently as the images flashed across the screen and the trembling voices of reporters in the thick of the action gave running commentaries on what they were witnessing.

  Entire armies across the world had been literally swallowed up as they fought to stem the tide of the rapidly increasing hordes of infected that spread across every continent. Nearly every major city in the world had fallen or was about to fall. Much of the fighting had spilled into the villages and small towns scattered throughout the countrysides of the world.

  The bulk of the Western armies were still either fighting their way out of the Middle East, or already en route in troop carrier ships and cruise liners that had been commandeered to facilitate the huge amount of men and equipment as they raced back to their respective countries to help with the wars on the home fronts.

  Large evacuations of mainland America and Britain were in progress, and thousands of refugees flocked to the many islands that lay scattered off shore. Around Scotland and the South of England, the numerous islets that sat just a short boat ride away from the mainland and giving a degree of security, were flooded with people who sought to escape the tidal wave of dead and infected that ravaged all in their path, leaving only more dead in their wake.

  The Channel Islands had been declared as ‘off limits’ to anyone fleeing the mainland and it was soon suspected that it had been made into a ‘safe haven’ for the rich and powerful, including politicians and royalty.

  There were reports that rogue military units from the Royal Army, Royal Navy and Royal Air Force had seized control of the Channel Islands and claimed them for themselves, causing a war within a war as rebel units and others still loyal to the government engaged one another to gain control. The last reports to come from Jersey were that all efforts of a counter attack had been repelled, leaving the government troops badly mauled and in retreat. There was no news of what had become of the rich and powerful who had escaped to the safe zones, and rumours soon broke out of revolutionary-style retribution being carried out against them by the breakaway military groups that had gained control of the islands.

  The people gathered in the lobby, watched in silence and shock as the video footage showed throngs of panicking people rushing at the ferries and boats at the docks in the hope of getting passage to the safe areas. In some ports, infected overran the security cordons and ploughed into the crowds and tore through them and onto the boats as they consumed the thousands of refugees. Some of the boats and ferries were able to get away in time, but others floundered and became easy prey as the mass of infected charged aboard and wreaked havoc throughout the decks.

  There was no good news and people began to turn away as they had had enough of the carnage that seemed to infest every corner of the globe. Eventually, everyone retreated into their own areas and while some carried on with what they were doing beforehand, others remained silent and withdrawn as they slowly lost hope for the future.

  Steve and his small band of survivors had met everyone there by the end of the first night. Some people were cheery and polite. Others were distant and clearly struggling to come to terms with events. Some had lost people close to them and one or two just sat in a daze, staring into open space and silent. Others cried continuously and openly, sitting and rocking themselves as they relived the horrible events that had happened to them and remembered the people they had lost.

  Steve felt that he could easily get along with the whole group. All, except one. A large fat mouthy woman named Stephanie who had been one of the management staff at the park beforehand and still believed that she was; walking around and speaking loudly and dictating to the younger members of her staff. She was a bully as far as Steve could tell and always spouted negative drivel to anyone who was in earshot.

  Steve knew he was going to have a problem with her at some point, and it almost happened on the first night. She sat eating a huge plate of food with her husband, Jason, sitting beside her. She spoke loudly about how she believed that eventually, society would collapse and it would be up to the strong leader sort, like her, to lead humanity out from the dark.

  Sophie, an attractive young blonde haired girl no older than eighteen who had also worked at the park commented, “But you were only promoted last October after being here for sixteen years. How come it took so long for your leadership skills to surface?” She was goading her and Steve had to stifle a smirk at Sophie’s comment.

  It was obvious that the two hated each other with a passion. Stephanie glowered at her nemesis from across the table and snarled, “When the time comes you skinny bint,” she pointed her fork at the young woman, “I’ll see to it that you get what’s coming to you.”

  Sophie sat grinning at her with her arms folded. She was confident and knew she could probably kick ten bells of shit out of Stephanie before she even knew what had hit her.

  All the time, Jason sat nodding at her every word. Clearly henpecked, Steve thought. He was a scrawny weedy looking man, and it was obvious who the dominant one was in the relationship. Helen commented later that she suspected Jason of being a ‘feeder’, supplying his wife with all the junk she could eat because he was turned on by obese women.

  “Eh, people actually go for that?” Jennifer was shocked by the concept.

  Helen replied, “Yes, and actually, it’s more common among men. I've seen a lot of it, especially at the hospital; huge fat women being brought in for one reason or another, and their skinny little husbands following closely, no doubt smuggling in a big bag of cakes for them.” She burst into laughter at her own comment, probably remembering a particular experience of it.

  “Nah, not for me I'm afraid. Give me a size ten any day, with great legs,” Steve announced, shaking his head.

  “Good to hear it,” Helen nudged him and gave an over animated wink for all to see, “but you've already see me in my underwear haven’t you, pervy Steve.”

  Jennifer started to laugh at his discomfort. Steve flushed red and smiled sheepishly.

  Karen and Gary were the life and soul of the group. Despite the situation and the fact that they worried about their son, they always seemed upbeat and positive with easy smiles and a quick wit.

  Karen had been an instant hit with the children. They warmed to her like a Grandmother they had only just met, and the fact that she spent most of her day singing and baking probably had something to do with it.

  She constantly told stories to the children and adults alike, and Steve couldn’t work out whether or not they were true at times, but even so, he too enjoyed the soothing sound of her voice and listened to her tales intently, almost hypnotised by her soft tones.

  He had promised Sarah that he would go for her mother, and now he was getting ready to uphold that promise. He had told Claire he would be on the way, but he was still wondering how he was going to do it.

  “So you're planning on going back out there then, Steve?” Gary was standing watching him as he unloaded all the kits they had stored in his brother’s Range Rover.

  Steve sighed as he turned to face his new friend. “I have to, Gary, my daughter’s mother is out there and I owe it to Sarah to bring her back, or at least try.”

  “I understand, Steve, I really do. That's why I'm gonna be coming with you.” He smiled. “You can’t do it on your own mate, and you'll need all the help you can get. Kevin has volunteered too.”

  Steve brushed his hands together a
s he dumped the last of the bags on the gravel at his feet. “I can’t ask you to do that, Gary, I really...”

  He was cut off as Gary spoke, raising his hand in front of him to silence him. “You've asked for nothing, we offered and it’s settled. Though, my wife isn’t too impressed with the idea.”

  Steve nodded. “You're a good man, Gary.”

  “That's what my wife says too.” He was grinning. “Anyway, let’s get a brew and work out what we need to do.”

  Steve, Gary and Kevin sat in the lobby on the large leather sofas discussing their plan.

  “Best thing is to get in and out as quickly as possible. I’ll phone or text Claire when we are on our way and give her a rough estimate of when we’ll be there. We should take the route I took getting here actually, mainly country roads and that.”

  Gary and Kevin nodded in agreement. “Yeah sounds good,” Kevin said.

  Later, they found themselves sitting together again. A kinship of sorts had formed between them. As three people who were about to go and face a terrible danger together, they were drawn together from sharing in the knowledge that they could very well soon be dead.

  “I'm still struggling to get my head around all of this you know,” Steve spoke and nodded towards the doors, indicating the outside and the situation beyond.

  “What's there to get our heads around, Steve? It was inevitable that humanity wasn’t going to last. We are like a star that burned brighter than others, but faded sooner.” Gary sat back in his seat, one hand stroking his short white beard as he spoke.

  Kevin looked at him. “Gary, you been at the whisky again? I haven’t a clue what you just said.”

  “Are you looking for theories on what is happening, or why?”