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

by Luke Duffy

  “Stu, do you see any depth positions?” Marcus was panting over the net.

  “No mate, I think they're pretty much done.”

  “Roger that, move the FSG up to my position. Watch for any other positions that we have missed and cover us as me and the assault group do our sweep.”

  Stu acknowledged, “Roger that, Marcus, that's us moving now.”

  Marcus looked to Ian and Sini. They were pouring with sweat and panting for breath. They had a damp layer of dirt that covered them from head to toe and steam was rising from them as they knelt and changed magazines, ensuring they had fresh full ones on before they started their clearance of what was left of the buildings.

  “Yan, you okay up there?”

  “Yes, Marcus, all good here. Can’t see any movement at all.”

  “Roger that, Yan, come down to our position and make sure there's no one still alive in the trenches behind us. Me, Sini and Ian are gonna do a quick sweep. From the looks of it though, Stu and Jim did a good job at levelling the place.”

  “No worries, Marcus,” Yan replied, in an almost jolly tone. “On my way,”

  He got to his feet and picked up his weapon and ammunition and began making his way to the first of the trenches with his pistol in hand. He walked from one to the next and fired a single shot into the head of each body he found, ensuring they were dead for good.

  He glanced behind him and considered moving up the hill and taking care of the dead around the heavy machinegun position.

  “Fuck `em,” he said to himself, “if they get up and walk about after death, they deserve it.”

  He continued to move along the line of trenches, taking whatever he thought would be of use, including a few high explosive grenades he found amongst the bodies of the dead.

  A few shots rang out as Marcus and his assault team finished off the remaining wounded still writhing among the ruins as they swept through the rubble of the village. Twisted, mutilated and bloody bodies lay scattered all around the piles of mud brick and straw roofing that now lay in smashed piles. Wounded lay mixed in with the dead, moaning and clutching at horrible wounds as they squirmed or tried to crawl to safety. Marcus, Sini and Ian moved amongst them, coldly dispatching anyone still alive with shots to the head.

  Within a few minutes, Marcus and Ian returned from the ruins of the hamlet with an unwounded Turkish officer.

  Sini followed a minute later and spoke to Marcus. “He's the only one left alive. They're all dead, Marcus.”

  Marcus nodded and turned to Ian and then to the officer. “Oi, you speak English?”

  The officer nodded vigorously, hoping to earn brownie points. “Yes, yes I speak it very good.” He even cracked a smile.

  Ian stepped forward and grabbed him from behind, placing his mouth close to his ear and growling, “Good, because now you're gonna fucking die, cunt.”

  Ian kicked him forward and the officer let out a yelp and landed on his knees.

  He looked from Marcus to Sini to Ian, panic in his eyes as he kneeled in the mud. “Please.”

  Ian raised his pistol and pointed it at the man’s head. The image of the woman being raped over and over burned in his memory, the sobs and tears of the little girl as she cried for her mother and father and for the soldiers to stop hurting them, the sight of the three of them being thrown face down into the mud and then shot like sick cattle, flashed behind his eyes.

  The officer raised his hand. “Please, I am...”

  The loud echo of the shot cut him off; his face crumpled in the middle, just below his nose and a spray of red and grey brains exploded from the back of his head. His hand dropped and his body slumped to the side and landed in a heap on the dirt track, the thick syrup-like blood spilling from his head and collecting in a puddle around him as he lay in the mud where he would remain.

  Marcus looked up from the body to Ian, then spoke into his radio. “All call signs, cease fire. Close into my location and start the reorg.”

  Within five minutes, they had collected anything of use, including four RPG rounds to restock the launchers and some mapping showing the Turkish dispositions throughout the whole of the East of Turkey. That would make it easier for the team to bypass the troop concentrations and pass through undetected.

  “Stu, did you check to see if the radio was working? It would be useful to know if they managed to get any messages off before they were killed,” Marcus asked as he folded the maps and stuffed them into his pocket.

  “I highly doubt it. I think they were dead within the first couple of seconds, Marcus, and the radio is shot to pieces, so I don’t think any signals got out at all.”

  Marcus nodded his approval. “Well, I guess we will soon find out, won’t we? Just be ready for drama on the off chance that they managed to call for help.”

  The team rolled out from the scene of carnage and sped away to the north, leaving the smouldering, bloodied field and broken bodies of men in their wake.

  20

  “What do we do?” Kevin was sat in the back seat of the Range Rover.

  Steve and Gary looked at each other then back at the gate that led out onto the main road from the Safari Park. A group of a dozen infected had gathered around the entrance over the previous couple of days and they clambered at the railings when they saw the vehicle approach.

  Steve had seen them on the CCTV when Jake called him into the security room that morning. The infected just milled about without paying too much attention to the steel gate. For some reason they had remained close, as though they knew there was something or somebody inside.

  Now, they rattled and pulled at the railings and each other as they moaned and reached for the black vehicle on the other side containing the three living people. The gate would hold; there was no question of that. It would take thousands of bodies pushing against it to force the thick steel hinges, set into the concrete base attached to the walls, to buckle and collapse.

  But the problem that Steve, Gary and Kevin now faced was how to get past them. They had known they were there and Steve hoped that a solution would have presented itself on the short drive from the mansion to the gate, but nothing popped into his head that resembled a solid plan.

  He shrugged. “I haven’t a clue to be honest. We can’t just open the gate and drive out; they would get into the park before Jake could close it again from the control room.”

  He looked to Gary for input with questioning eyes.

  “Maybe that's exactly what we have to do, Steve?” He replied.

  “Eh, you mean let them in?”

  Kevin gripped the headrest of each of the front seats and pulled himself forward to speak. “Hang on old fella, we open them gates and those walking bags of puss are gonna come piling into the park.”

  “Not necessarily. If we get a few people down here, armed of course, we could get Jake to open the gate and we could drive out slowly so that the infected can keep up with us and follow, then, once clear, Jake closes the gate and if any are left inside, they can be dealt with by the others waiting for them.”

  Steve bit his lip. “You don’t think that's a bit of a risk, Gary?”

  “Everything is a risk these days. We’re taking a big risk ourselves venturing out there and crossing miles and miles of potentially hostile ground. For us to get out of here, it’s a risk that the people inside will have to take. Everyone has to earn their keep around here, Steve, and that means taking risks now and then.”

  Kevin nodded from between them. “Yup, I think he's right, Steve. Everyone has to pitch in these days. It can’t be just us shaking our meaty, juicy arses at those puss brains while everyone else sits back.”

  Steve nodded. He didn't like the idea of leaving a gap that could be exploited but he knew that the plan and philosophy made sense.

  “Okay then, get Jake on the radio.”

  Ten minutes later, four others from the mansion arrived in the gate area but kept themselves out of sight from the infected on the other side. Jake was among them
, carrying a length of metal piping. There was nothing camp about him now; which Steve was sure he deliberately put on for the sake of entertainment to the others. He was all business and looking serious and focused.

  Two men named John and Carl had also volunteered to help.

  Steve's heart skipped a beat when he saw Helen with them. He knew better than to say anything. Though, no doubt Helen would appreciate his attempt at chivalry if he insisted that she go back and stay out of harm’s way. He also knew that she would tell him where he could piss off to. Instead, he nodded to her and she gave him a short smile in return.

  “Okay, Jake,” Gary spoke into the radio, “you know the plan. Keep outta sight and once we’re clear and the gates are shut again, only then do you come out of the trees, and only if some of those things manage to get inside.”

  “I understand, Gary. Be careful out there yourself.”

  The gate gave off a low electric whirr and began to slowly move, sliding open from the locking mechanism and toward the opposite wall. Immediately, the dead began to push through the gap and stagger toward the vehicle. They slapped and banged at the doors and glass and surrounded the vehicle as it unhurriedly moved toward the opening that led out from the park.

  Steve sat behind the wheel, fighting the urge to slam his foot down and speed away from the ghastly visions he could see all around him. He did his best to keep his eyes focused straight ahead and not to look at the mottled pale green faces that pressed up against the window at the side of him, the bony hands that clutched at the glass in an attempt to pull it away and reach inside. Their smell began to permeate the air vents of the Range Rover, and all three of them gagged at the stench of rotting flesh.

  “Fuck me, that's hideous.” Kevin had the neck of his t-shirt pulled up to cover his nose. To him, the dead smelled like a cross between the chicken he had once left out on the kitchen counter at home while he was away for a weekend, and dog shit. He gagged. “You think they're all gonna be smelling this bad?”

  “Probably worse when we get into a built-up area, especially if we run into large groups of them,” Gary answered over his shoulder as he too covered his mouth and nose.

  Steve couldn’t afford to loosen his grip on the wheel and he had to grin and bear the smell that assaulted his nostrils. He could feel his stomach churn and his gag reflex beginning to twitch with each intake of breath, and he opted to breathe through his mouth instead.

  He caught a glimpse of the face of one of the nearest bodies to the driver’s side. “Jesus!” he exclaimed.

  It had once been a woman, but was now unrecognisable as it slammed its bloated, festering arms and rake-like fingers against the doors of the vehicle. Her long, dark, greasy hair was missing in large chunks in places and the rest was matted to her scalp.

  Her pale skin was peeling from around her cheeks and jaw, and underneath Steve saw what looked to be fresh, healthy pink flesh. For a moment he doubted that they were actually dead and that maybe the scientists had gotten it wrong. But just one look at the eyes told him they hadn't. They were a dull grey as a misty film had covered the already rotting eyeball, with a darker circle in the centre where the iris and pupil remained under the film. The eyes stared at him blankly and the swollen, dark tongue flopped from the ravenous mouth as it stretched wide in an attempt to bite through the glass. The teeth were gnashing together and biting clear through a large portion of her tongue. Her eyes seemed to register that she had gotten what she wanted and the creature pulled away, chewing vigorously before realising its mistake and letting the rotten cold meat drop from her mouth before approaching the vehicle again.

  The sound emitting from the walking cadavers never ceased, but at such close range, the men in the vehicle were able to distinguish individual voices, tones, and pitches. Even in death, it was easy to differentiate male from female. The moan and whine of their lament held their masculine and feminine touches, though unrecognisable as speech.

  Black clouds of bloated flies swarmed in the air around them. They constantly buzzed and added to the sound of the dead; the air seemed electrified, like the sound produced by large transformers attached to the power grid.

  They pushed through the gate and slowly headed down the approach road. The dead continued to stumble after them and when Gary was sure they had all followed, he keyed the radio, “Okay, close the gate, we’re clear and I think they've all come with us.”

  “Closing it now, Gary,” Sophie called from the control desk in the mansion.

  Steve watched in the rear view mirror as the gate began to slide back into place behind them. Once it slammed shut, he sped away.

  “Any of them get in, Jake?” Gary asked.

  The radio crackled and hissed then Jake’s voice could be heard. “No Gary, they all followed you. It worked perfectly.”

  “Good good, get back up to the house. We’ll push up to the junction and try and give you a call on the radio to see what the range is like on this.”

  “Will do, Gary, good luck,” Jake replied.

  The range was good. They were still able to talk with the people at the Safari Park from as far as a kilometre away as Steve negotiated his way through wrecked and stalled traffic and the wandering corpses that littered the roads.

  There seemed to be dozens of them shuffling along the lanes and roads and they all seemed to be headed in the direction of the Park.

  “I think that we could be in for some trouble back at the park eventually,” Gary was thinking aloud.

  Steve glanced across from the driver’s seat. “You think that's where they're all heading?”

  “Could be, there were more than just a few out there this morning. Maybe they have a sixth sense? Or maybe they just see others like them and automatically follow? But either way, I think that if we’re not careful, we could find ourselves stuck and surrounded.”

  Kevin asked, “Where else could we go anyway? Maybe we should just sit it out there regardless of how many there are outside?”

  “I've thought that myself, but we don’t know how long we could be there for. I mean, how long will it take for them to rot away? It’s better to at least have an escape plan. As well as that though, if there ends up being thousands of them surrounding our walls, disease could become an issue. I'm no doctor but rotting flesh and the millions of insects feeding off the dead make for a bad combination health-wise.”

  Steve was concentrating on the road ahead as he swerved around a cluster of static cars. “It’s something that we will have to consider when we get back; either a get out strategy or a way of keeping them away, maybe both. For now, let’s just get on with the job at hand.”

  They were travelling, as per the plan, along the same route that Steve had taken to get there. But it now looked completely different from what it had just a few days earlier. It seemed that people had given up on waiting for instructions from the government and police officials and had begun trying to make their own way to safety.

  Kevin looked disgusted as he peered out the window nearest to him at the scale of the destruction and horror of the reanimated.

  “You not been out recently I take it, Kev?” Steve asked glancing at him in the mirror.

  “Not recently. Well not at all really. I came to the park at the beginning when we believed it was all just riots and flu. I was inside the safety of the walls when it was announced what was actually happening, had no desire to venture out since to be honest, Steve.”

  “Why come now?”

  “I couldn’t let you go out with just this old fossil,” he nudged the back of Gary’s seat, “you’d never make it back having to carry him too.”

  Gary looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Kevin my boy, there's still plenty of life in this old man yet. I was running marathons and a black belt in Judo when I was your age and I played rugby every Sunday up until a few years back. Unlike you, sitting in your bedroom playing computer games with the door barricaded shut and eating nothing but pizza, like a Japanese teenager.”

&
nbsp; Despite the situation outside of the vehicle, Steve burst into laughter and Kevin’s only response was, “Fuck off.”

  They made sure that the main roads that led into the town were given a wide berth. They travelled along a bypass road that would bring them out on the far side of the main built-up area and not far from where they were headed.

  Steve tried to call Claire that morning and had no reply. The automated voice told him that the number was out of service. He decided to send a text instead, informing her that they were on their way and to be ready to move. Now his phone beeped and vibrated in his pocket.

  He didn't want to take his eyes off the road or his hands from the steering wheel. “Gary, can you reach into my pocket and check my phone, it could be Claire.”

  Gary did as he was asked and when he read the message notice he said, “It says ‘Saggy Arse’.” He looked to Steve questioningly.

  “Yup, that's Claire. What does it say?”

  “It says that she’s ready and that there aren’t many infected knocking about in the street and she asks how long.”

  “Tell her fifteen minutes if all goes to plan.”

  Gary began typing the reply, using the thumbs from both hands. “I hate this predictive text thing. It never spells what I want it to. I’ll probably end up sending the recipe to Christmas cake or something.”

  Ten minutes later they turned off from the junction that led up to the housing estate that Claire lived on. It was an upper working class area with large double drives and long front gardens that were overlooked by large bay windows.

  The place didn't look much different from all the other chaotic residential areas of the country with burnt houses, trashed cars, bodies, and other detritus lying in the street.

  As they turned a corner, a van bolted toward them. The driver’s eyes bulged from their sockets when he saw the Range Rover and he fought with the wheel and swerved just in time to avoid colliding with them before the van screamed past and out of sight. Close behind, a small crowd of five or so infected sprinted after it, but when they saw Steve and his companions, they diverted their attention to the four by four and charged at it.