I Dream of Zombies (Book 2): Haven

by Vickie Johnstone

“Great,” she replied. “Thanks.”

  As they entered Church Street and the tower of the building came into view, her heart sank. A crowd of gruesome dead-lookers jammed the road in front of them.

  “They know,” commented Nick.

  Tommy looked at him. “You knew they’d be here?”

  “Always. They can smell the people. I could’ve told you if you’d asked.”

  Caballero kept the engine running and radioed back: “Undead in the road. Do not leave your vehicles.”

  “What’s your plan?” Marla asked him.

  “We take them out. All of them,” he replied coldly.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, unless they’re living, we take them out. Who wants to use the machine gun?”

  Tommy nodded and switched positions. “I’m on it.”

  As the gun fired into the crowd, it began raining blood, or so it seemed to Marla. The dead-lookers juddered on the spot and fell into one another, some catapulted backwards by the force of the shots, their lack of coordination and speed making them easy targets. They collapsed like bloody dominoes until there was a carpet of bodies decorating the front of the grey stone church. Caballero drove the Panther across them and Marla’s attention was caught by Nick clapping loudly. She took a deep breath and then regretted it as the aroma of rotting flesh greeted her senses like a wave, falling around her head and pulling her under.

  “You alright, Marla?”

  She glanced at Caballero. “Fine, sir. The smell…”

  “Yes, it isn’t something you get used to either, I’m afraid,” he stated matter-of-factly as he drove over the last of the bodies to gain a clear view of the side of the church.

  From the pavement the abbey stood proudly, its brownish, slanted roof stretching upwards. It was a wondrous building. Marla had always admired churches because of their gothic air and shape. Three main arched windows rested above the dark blue door, which was closed. The nave cut across, with windows scattered throughout the grey stone. Shards of sunlight bounced off the panes, highlighting the gravestones sticking out of the overgrown grass here and there, becoming more plentiful towards the side where the cemetery rested. Marla shuddered as she looked. It was full of dead-lookers, as if they had returned to pay their respects to their ancestors.

  Caballero reversed the Panther and straightened it up alongside the pavement. The driver of the second Panther had turned it around to face the opposite direction, preparing to take down any zombies that appeared on the street. The Vector and bus were parked in between the two.

  “Is it blasphemy to fire on church property?” asked Marla.

  “Are you religious?” asked Caballero.

  “No,” she replied. “I’ve always been an atheist, although recent events have made me wonder how anyone can believe in a God that lets something like this happen.”

  “So you’ll have no complaints then?” he asked rhetorically as the machine gun emptied its gifts on the dead that crept between the headstones of the once living. Row upon row of the ghastly figures collapsed, decorating the graves and green grass with splatters of deep red and splinters of bone. Marla cringed as the word desecration entered her head and she shook it away. Behind them the other Panther was firing rounds down Church Road. The roar of the guns must have wakened the rest of the creatures, she guessed. Unexpectedly, the door of the abbey opened and a white cloth waved in the air.

  “I’m getting out,” said Caballero. “Tommy, stay put. Marla, come with me.”

  She nodded and followed the commander out of the vehicle and towards the entrance of the building. Nick remained inside the Panther, clapping and giggling to himself. The guy had lost it, Marla figured, wondering how he had managed to keep himself alive all this time.

  “We’re here to take any survivors to a safe facility, run by the government and guarded by the army,” announced Caballero in a loud voice. “Do you want to come with us?”

  The door opened wider and a man stepped out, dressed in black with a white collar. “I am Reverend Matthew,” he stated. “Can you take all of us?”

  “How many are you?” asked Caballero.

  “One hundred and eighty six.”

  Caballero whistled. “That many? Okay, we can take one hundred on the bus, but it will be a squeeze. We will have to come back for the others tomorrow. Can you organise your people? We need to keep guard out here.”

  “You are shooting them?”

  “We have no choice.”

  The reverend muttered something and nodded. While Tommy and the soldiers in the other Panther continued to pick off any dead that appeared in the street, Sylvia, Robert and Marla entered the church. As they walked in, the dry, stifling heat hit them. Marla coughed slightly and glanced at Sylvia, who looked concerned. The place was full of people sitting huddled together. Young and old, male and female looked up. All at once they rose and a clamour of voices filled the air as the group looked at one another in confusion or excitement; it was difficult to tell.

  “Reverend, can you ask them to be silent?” asked Caballero. “We are surrounded by the undead out there.”

  The man nodded and raised his arms in the air. “Please be quiet. It is not safe outside. These people have come here from a safe government facility to find survivors. Today they can take most of us, not all, but they will come back tomorrow. Please form an orderly queue down the centre of the church. There is no need to panic or rush. Just gather your belongings and make a line. Everyone will be taken – no one will be abandoned here alone, you have my word. You’ll all be saved.”

  The congregation fell silent and calmly did as Matthew instructed. Marla smiled, amazed by his power to control a difficult situation. Moving alongside him, she whispered, “How did you do that?”

  He smiled back and brought his hands together in front of him. “We have been united in prayer here for many years. I know most of my flock. Some are strangers, but I welcomed them. All are equal in God’s eyes. They trust me.”

  When the people were assembled, Sylvia and Marla began to lead them outside to the waiting double-decker bus. One by one, they climbed inside and found a seat. Marla wondered when they had last bathed or eaten a proper meal. She imagined the facilities inside the church to be basic. How many times had they been forced to brave the outside world to find food? They would have to do it no more.

  “Thanks, Miss,” said a small, fair-haired boy clinging on to his mother’s hand.

  Marla grinned at him. “You’re welcome,” she replied, watching as his parent helped him with the step.

  “Makes it all worthwhile, no?” asked Sylvia.

  “Sure does. I only wish we could take all of them today.”

  Sylvia smiled. “They’ve been safe there all this time. It will only be one more night and I guess one of us can stay with them – depends who volunteers. If no one does, Caballero will probably do it.”

  “Really?”

  “That’s the type of man he is.”

  “A good one then,” Marla surmised as she watched the commander speaking to Matthew by the entrance to the church. She jumped slightly as the machine gun launched a fresh spray of gunfire.

  “That’s it,” Robert announced as he strode out of the building and up to the two girls.”

  Marla frowned. “No, he said there were one hundred and eighty six people altogether. The bus can take a hundred, but I only counted seventy-seven.”

  “Me, too,” Sylvia agreed. “Let’s check with the Reverend.”

  Robert gestured to Martinez, who was driving the bus, to close the doors and then he followed the two women into the church.

  “We’re a few short,” Sylvia announced to Caballero.

  Matthew nodded. “Yes, most of my congregation were in here and the others are in the crypt. How many spaces are left?”

  “Twenty-three,” said Marla, “exactly.”

  “Alright, so I think I should ask for women and children to go first,” he replied. “Come, it is this way to the c
rypt.”

  Robert closed the church doors while Caballero strode after the Reverend, followed by Sylvia and Marla. Matthew stopped in front of a heavy, wooden door, rounded at the top. Lifting the metal bolt, he turned the handle and pushed. It yawned open with a slight creak to reveal a series of light stone steps. He led the way down to yet another door and, turning the handle, he walked inside.

  Caballero stretched out his arm to take the full weight of the door and held it open for Marla. “Chilly down here,” he remarked, stepping into the dimly lit crypt. Matthew was crossing the room to where the remainder of his flock were seated. Some were very young, judging by the size of them, thought Marla, as she hurried to catch up with the commander.

  “Oh my God,” he gasped, stopping suddenly.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Matthew, turning around. “Can you take them?”

  Marla felt her skin ripple as if beneath an icy touch when she took in the rows of heads that were beginning to rise; the expressionless faces turning to gaze upon them, one by one. She recognised the now familiar expression of hunger; the all-consuming need to devour, which was the only emotion experienced by the dead. “Caballero?” she muttered.

  “We cannot take them,” he told the Reverend, “and we should leave now.”

  “But they are all creatures of God,” Matthew replied, looking perplexed. “How can we leave them here to perish?”

  “They are already dead.”

  The Reverend shook his head and swept his hand up. “They live, move and breathe, just like us. They are only sick.”

  “No,” Sylvia argued. “They are dead. They have the virus. Has anyone else been bitten?”

  Matthew nodded. “Some, but we bandaged them.”

  “Are they on the bus?” asked Caballero.

  The man nodded.

  “Jesus,” breathed Marla. “I’ll go warn the others.”

  She spun on her heels and then stopped short as a scream escaped her lips. Behind them was a recess they had not been aware of when entering the crypt. It was crammed full of dead-lookers and they had already risen; their wizened features frozen like Halloween masks as they drifted across the stone ground. Young and old. Marla gazed at the children and felt a deep sorrow flood over her. It kept her rooted to the spot for too many seconds until she was aware of Sylvia grabbing her arm and trying to drag her towards the exit. Robert lunged for the door and tugged it open.

  “Matthew, we must go now,” Caballero insisted. “They will kill you.”

  “But they are the innocent. They do not deserve to be left here to die.”

  “No, but neither do you, and if you stay here you will surely perish. I know you want to save these people, but they are beyond saving.”

  “I will not leave them. They have been coming to my church for years, some since they were born. I have baptized these children.”

  “And they are gone, Reverend,” insisted Caballero, pulling him by the arm.

  Robert held the door open while the two female soldiers stood behind him waiting. “He’s taking too long,” said Marla, noticing the dead veer into the edge of her vision. She stepped forward.

  “Marla!”

  Ignoring Sylvia, she took a central position between Caballero and the door to the crypt. On either side of their prey, the dead were moving. Eerie, rasping voices gathered like the hum of a ghostly organ playing, sweeping around the space inside, filling it up, as the very walls seemed to close in; a claustrophobic hell hole. They were too close, thought Marla. What was he thinking of? Caballero wrestled with Matthew, and taking hold of both of his arms, he hauled him towards the exit, but the man struggled back, shouting, “You cannot make me leave them! This is wrong!”

  Marla took a step forwards, but Caballero nodded at her to stay back. It was clear that he did not want her to shoot any of the congregation in front of the man of the cloth. Matthew struggled again and again. He was not weak, she could see, and he was taller than the commander. In the end he lashed out and pushed Caballero away, to her shock. A shot rang out and it was only afterwards that Marla realised it came from her gun, so focused had she been on the two men.

  “No!” shrieked Matthew, bending down towards the small boy now lying face down on the dusty, stone ground. “Murderers!” Caballero punched the man, catching him in his arms as he crumpled, unconscious. Robert ran forward and raised one of Matthew’s arms over his shoulder.

  One of the dead lunged forward, her jaws snapping at Caballero’s neck as he struggled to bear the other man’s weight. Without blinking, Marla shot her in the forehead. Focused, she took down two other men, one young and one old, before they could get any closer to the hunted. Hearing other gunshots around her, she did not acknowledge their origin. Turning once more, she fired at yet another dead-looker; a female who had probably been in her twenties. Then she saw the twins – red-haired angels who could not have been any older than four years old. Marla backed away towards the exit, unable to silence them. Caballero and Robert dragged the Reverend past her, and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she followed them out.

  Sylvia slammed the door of the crypt and bolted it. Turning to Marla, she asked, “You okay?”

  Marla grimaced. “No. There were too many children in there.”

  “I saw.”

  “I killed one.”

  “They’re already dead, you know that,” Sylvia replied, leading the way up the steps. “Come on, we have to get back to the bus and check the passengers.”

  Her words jolted Marla back to reality. “How will we persuade anyone to get off the bus if they’ve been bitten? They’ll hide any injuries.”

  “We’ll see. Come on. Caballero, is there a key for this door?” Sylvia called out as she reached the top of the steps.

  “There!” Robert replied, nodding to a hook on the wall.

  “Great.” In one swift movement she locked the crypt and brought down the bolt. “All secure,” she added, running ahead.

  Marla glanced towards the altar and back at the door leading to the crypt. Biting her lip, she shoved her dark thoughts behind the barricade in her mind that she’d built for herself, where all the bad stuff was going, deafening the silence there, pressing. As the church door slammed shut, she squinted in the blazing sunshine and inhaled the fresher air. The gunfire had stopped and the street was as quiet as a morgue. Marla watched Caballero and Robert carry Matthew on to the bus and step back off.

  “Good work in there,” Caballero told Marla. “You’ve got very quick instincts.”

  She nodded, unable to think of a reply.

  He stepped back on the bus and strode upstairs. “Has anyone been bitten?” he asked loudly.

  An old man whose arm was wrapped in a bandage put his hand up. “I was.”

  “Could you step downstairs for me, please?” asked Caballero.

  “Why?”

  “We would like everyone who has been bitten to step off the bus.”

  “No way!” a woman cried out. “We’re not going out there!”

  Caballero stared out the window and blinked in the sunlight. It would begin to fade soon enough. He switched his focus back to the passengers. “We would like everyone who has been bitten to travel in the Vector truck. That way, when we reach the facility, we can treat your wounds urgently. We will know who is injured and our doctors will be able to deal with them without delay.”

  The old man who had spoken stood up and asked the woman next to him to move her legs. “Jerry, I want to go with you,” she said, refusing to budge an inch.

  “It’s perfectly alright,” he replied. “I trust him. He’s helping us. How long have we been married?”

  “Fifty-six years.”

  “Then, Beryl, a little separation is not going to make any difference. You haven’t been injured, so I want you to wait here. I’ll see you later, my sweet.” With that, Jerry bent down ever so slowly and kissed his wife on the cheek. She smiled up at him and moved her legs aside. Trembling slightly, he walked down
the aisle of the bus.

  “Thank you,” said Caballero. “Just head outside where my soldiers are guarding the vehicles.

  Jerry turned and waved at his wife before disappearing out of sight.

  “Anyone else?” asked the commander.

  There were no more complaints or questions as various people rose from their seats in all stages of life and from all walks of it. After seeing the old man leave, they seemed to have no lingering suspicions. One by one, nine people left the bus. Downstairs it was the same story and six others were relocated on to the Vector. Caballero gave one last glance to Matthew, who sat at the front of the bus with his head in his hands, before stepping off on to the pavement. Martinez closed the door behind him.

  “They’re all on the truck,” Marla informed Caballero. “Sylvia and Robert are in there. Are they safe?”

  He nodded. “They’re fine. There’s a metal division between the back and front. They can see what’s going on in the back too.”

  She studied his face more carefully, feeling puzzled. “How did those people leave so easily?”

  Caballero focused on a spot an inch away from her face. “I asked them to.”

  Suddenly feeling tense, she decided to press him. “What did you tell them?”

  He met her gaze. “What I had to. I told them that by separating them, they would be treated by our doctors first.”

  “But that’s a lie! They won’t!” she gasped, feeling the pressure that had been mounting since she left the crypt explode. “What about their families? That old man told me to make sure his wife didn’t worry. What am I meant to say to her? Her name is Beryl and they’ve been married for over fifty years. Fifty years! How could you do that? He has no idea what will happen to him and…”

  “Calm down, Marla. I don’t feel good about lying to them,” Caballero retorted, “but I had no choice or other people will be at risk. You know this. You’ve seen it happen – I know you have.” He walked away from her, towards the Panther.

  “What will happen to them?” she asked, running behind him.

  He stopped and looked at her. “Do you really want to know?”

  Marla hesitated for a moment and nodded slowly.