Barry finished retrieving the chipmunk teeth from the duffels. “I know,” he said, showing Emily the explosives. “That’s why we need to use chipmunk teeth.” He smiled.
“A minute ago, you didn’t even want to shoot into the crowd. Now you want to throw a grenade?” Emily asked.
“As I said, we only intervene if they get overwhelmed. And from the looks of it, that’s exactly what’s happening.”
She took a step back. If they used the explosives, they would blow their cover. The werewolves had created a great diversion, but the team couldn’t get to Number 10 where the prime minister was held captive. Emily didn’t want to use the explosives unless they absolutely had to.
He could see her concern. “What’s wrong? We need to help them!” he said urgently, trying to give a grenade to Emily.
“N-no…” she began, stuttering. She hated her stutter. “I mean… I… What I meant to say was… I mean…” The words wouldn’t come to her no matter how hard she tried. “I mean… Oh, fuck. What I am trying to…” she tried again.
“Fuck you, too!” Barry cried. He was angry with everyone. He’d come on the mission to help, not to sit in the Land Rover and look pretty. He knew it wasn’t her fault, but that didn’t change how he felt. “It’s like no one wants my help. Why the honest fuck did I even come on this shit fest mission anyway if all I was meant to do was sit in the fucking Land Rover and keep watch? For fuck’s sake, that’s what I’ve always done!” He spoke passionately but tried not to get too loud. “I don’t want to just sit and look pretty,” he added in a quieter voice.
Emily shook her head. “No, listen to me, Barry,” she said, hoping he would listen.
Barry sighed heavily. “Don’t tell me to sit quietly and breathe through my nose or to breathe deeply or whatever the fuck those shitface shrinks would suggest. Please, for fuck’s sake, don’t do that.” He paced as he ranted. He had to fight back the rage-induced tears. Yet another thing he hated about himself. He always cried when he got angry, and that made him angrier.
Emily shook her head again. She wouldn’t suggest anything to Barry. She knew what it was like for someone to tell her to calm down and how to do it. She knew all too well the tactics therapists used, and she knew they’d never worked for her.
“I hate it when people tell me to breathe one way or another to calm down.” He wasn’t angry anymore, but he felt annoyed. “I’m so tired of people telling me how to calm down!”
The sergeant and Lena ripped apart the closest zombies. The grey figures tumbled to the ground, staining the pavement with different unknown liquids. She could see Number 10 above the zombie’s heads, but there were too many of them to get through.
Sergeant Turner inhaled deeply, unsure what they needed to do. He howled, quietly at first, then slowly rising into a full and loud howl. He took small steps as he called out, soon breaking into a stride as he made his way through zombies like paper. He could hear Lena’s heavy werewolf footsteps following closely behind him.
Hairy and Quasi leaped into action, knowing they had to protect the two leaders. They dashed through the zombie crowd, knocking down anything that got in their way. Quasi kicked down another zombie, grabbing the figure just behind it. He growled at the monster before throwing him to the ground.
“Barry look!” Emily said with a slightly raised voice as she pointed towards the action. “Quasi and Hairy are trying to protect the sergeant!”
Barry stopped pacing and focused on the werewolves. They were close to Number 10. The mass of grey, gnarled zombies flowed freely, and the moment one fell down, another was in its place. There seemed to be no chance of winning, but that didn’t stop the werewolves from baring their teeth and ripping the limbs from every monster they encountered.
“Shit,” Barry said, looking out over the crowd. “We can’t use the chipmunk teeth,” he said, finally realizing what Emily had been trying to say.
Emily took the explosives from Barry and gently placed them back in the duffels. Though the strangeness of being around them was wearing off, her paranoia had. She didn’t want to set them off accidentally. “Thanks for realizing that, Barry.” She tried not to let her words sound condescending. “We will get to use them though,” she added after seeing the disappointment on his face.
Sergeant Turner thrashed and threw the zombies down as hard as he could. He could see the shining Number 10 and the famous black door ahead of him. He could almost taste the victory.
Lena growled at an incoming zombie. She threw him into the air, and the zombie flew awkwardly into the swarm of zombies that lay ahead. The dense crowd thinned slightly as the sergeant and Lena ripped and tore through the figures standing in their way.
Sergeant Turner looked over at his daughter. He was proud of Lena. She stared back at him, proud of who they were and what they were doing. A loud snarl snapped them back into action as a large zombie stumbled toward them.
The two werewolves each grabbed one of the zombie’s arms, pulling it in separate directions. The zombie let out a loud snarl as he was torn in half, letting out a soft squelch as he collapsed to the pavement stones. It was nothing more than a rotting, clumped up pile of organs and skin.
Emily held her nose. The smell was worse than a drunkard’s vomit. “Oh fuck, that smell is truly worse than shit,” she said, backing away from the zombie action.
“They look like gummy vitamins when they’re oozing shit,” Barry observed, noting to himself never to eat gummy vitamins again.
Emily looked at him. “Ew! You really think so?” she asked, trying not to gag. “They’re more like…” She couldn’t find the right words. The oozing zombies were unlike anything she had ever seen before in her life.
The sergeant and Lena stood in front of Number 10 Downing Street. The other werewolves ripped at the remaining zombies, howling and screaming as they went. The werewolves kept tearing and knocking down zombies even faster than before.
Quasi lunged at a short zombie, and he ripped the throat from the figure as he dug his claws into its skin. Another zombie threw himself at the werewolf while he was down, and the large, flabby zombie pinned the hunchback werewolf down. Quasi howled loudly, the noise coming out strangled and throaty. Hairy powered through the zombies, throwing them down like dominos as he made his way towards his friend.
The werewolf stood over the zombie and bared his long fangs, growling. The black-eyed figure almost seemed to cower with fear as the werewolf pulled his long arm behind him. In one quick movement, Hairy sliced his claws across the zombie’s bloated stomach. The zombie oozed as Hairy clamped his teeth down on the soft flesh of the fat zombie’s neck. The limp monster fell to the ground like a rag doll, and Hairy pulled Quasi to his feet, supporting him as he regained his strength.
Sergeant Turner and Lena felt confident as they finished off the remaining zombies around Number 10. The other werewolves were in the process of finishing off their opponents. The once dense crowd had fallen like sand through a timer.
“They’re winning!” Emily cheered, pointing towards the werewolves.
Barry’s heart dropped as he saw figures in the windows of Number 10. Their time of silence was over.
Chapter Seven
Sean clutched the intercom in his hands. The road was far too narrow for the Land Rovers’ wide bodies. A lurking zombie stood like a frozen guard in the middle of the street, but Sean didn’t care. He sighed and ran it down. He couldn’t even imagine what the underside of the Land Rover looked like.
“I got in touch with the EJG,” Nathan said into the intercom. “I think they said they could help.”
“Bloody good to hear. We can’t take on the zombies with just the three of us,” Ryan said.
The news relieved Sean. With a bit of luck, they would be able to rescue the queen. “Well, cheers mate.” His words were soft and tired. He ran on little food and little sleep, and that had quickly caught up to him.
Ryan could see more zombies out the passenger window. They line
d the street, a strange parade of undead creatures, staring and swaying. They looked as though they were waiting to pounce.
“This is so weird,” he said to himself. With one hand, he pulled the tab to a Hamster Energy Drink and took a large gulp. The peach fizz rippled down his throat. It sent a soft buzz through his system, giving a little more life to his exhausted body.
Sean was ready to be at Buckingham Palace. Driving on the narrow streets while zombies and humans crowded them had irritated him. He knew he was tired and hungry, and both made him irritable. He focused intently on the road ahead, his head pounding and crying out for even a glass of water.
“Is that a…” He could see a brown ball of fur sitting in the middle of the street. It wasn’t moving, but he could tell the ball of fluff was alive. “It’s a…” He sped down the road, but the ball of fur didn’t move an inch.
He shoved his foot down on the brakes, and the Land Rover’s tires screeching as the skid across the pavement. Unsure if the heavy vehicle would stop in time, he turned the wheels to avoid the animal. Sean gritted his teeth and groaned as he struggled to keep control. The Land Rover finally came to a stop, rocking back and forth as it did. Had he hit the brakes any later than he had, he could have flipped the top-heavy machine.
He unstrapped his seat belt and climbed out, hoping he didn’t hit the dog in the road. He had always been a sucker for dogs.
Ryan jumped out of his Land Rover and walked toward Sean, whose Land Rover was smoking badly. One of the wheels looked like it was ready to come off, which was he found surprising just for a moment, but then after thinking about it, he changed his mind. Those vehicles were usually built tougher than that, but after all the unit had given them, it wasn’t a big shock to see one of them had hit its limit.
A zombie came from nowhere, rushing over to the wounded Land Rover. Sean was only part of the way out when he saw it coming straight for him. He jumped back inside, pulling his foot in just in time for the zombie to throw himself into the door. It slammed hard, hard enough it would have broken Sean’s leg if he hadn’t moved so fast.
The zombie pulled back and rammed the vehicle again. It seemed focused, determined. Far too deliberate to be acting on its own.
Nathan came to stand beside Ryan. “I think this is another Roger Ring incident,” he muttered, scanning the crowd for a culprit.
Ryan nodded slowly agreeing with Nathan. “Yes, and a zombie has our mate trapped in that fucking Land Rover.”
Sean backed away from the window as the zombie smashed his fist and then his face into the glass. A deep crack spider-webbed across, and he knew there wasn’t much time left before the monster came through.
He was tired, and every part of his body screamed for him to stop. He needed to get out quickly. Ryan and Nathan were heading towards the truck, but Sean quickly waved them away.
“Find the controller! I’ve got this!”
The two soldiers nodded and looked around for what Sean was certain was a living, breathing human controlling the undead beasts.
A loud smash sounded out, and Sean looked over just in time to see the zombie reach through the window. Without hesitation, he scooted over onto the center console, sitting sideways as he kicked at the zombie.
The monster growled and snarled at him, his arms darting inside and successfully grabbing hold of Sean’s ankle.
Sean hissed in pain, surprised at just how strong he was, but he wasn’t about to dwell on it. He grunted loudly as he pulled back, hoping the zombie would come just a bit farther into the window—and he didn’t disappoint.
As soon as the greyish figure had his head and both arms inside the window, drooling and snarling at its intended prey, Sean kicked as hard as he could with his free foot. The heel of his boot landed hard in the center of the zombie’s upper arm, snapping the bone in half.
The beast screamed out, its head rearing back as he did. Sean used the opportunity—and the loosened grip on his ankle—and pulled free. He kicked the zombie sideways, knocking him into the frame of the door. The zombie still wailed and struggled, slipping a little.
With its head now against the frame, Sean kicked the undead ‘s head as hard as he could, and then again and again. The screeching stopped just before the zombie fell the rest of the way out of the door and slopped to the ground.
Sean grimaced as he looked at the goop that now stained the cab of his vehicle. It smelled like rotten flesh and vomit, and he thought he might throw up if he didn’t get out of there soon. There was no way in hell he’d be able to get that smell out of there.
Ryan nudged Nathan, gesturing to a small boy staring down at a large screen. His small fingers rushed around the screen, prodding and smacking in repetitive motions. Nathan knew they had found the zombie controller, but it was so hard to believe it was just a small child.
Nathan wandered over to the child. The red dots became clear as he looked over the child’s shoulder. There were only three dots on the screen, one appeared to represent the Land Rover. The other two just walked around.
Nathan snapped his fingers in front of the young boy, but he didn’t flinch aside from his small fingers moving around the screen. The boy concentrated on the single dot attacking the Rover as if it was an interesting video game. He seemed completely unaware that there was a real zombie attacking it.
The dog in the road sat exactly where they’d originally found it. Ryan scowled at it. The stupid animal had been the reason for all this mess in the first place.
Nathan grabbed the tablet, trying to rip it from the child’s small fingers, but he was glued to the controller. The boy didn’t make a noise as he pulled the tablet back towards him, tapping wildly at the red dot by the Land Rover. The young boy tapped even faster on the screen, and Nathan’s thoughts ran wild, knowing he had to act fast. He could hear the snarls of more zombies coming. He grabbed the tablet quickly, not taking no for an answer this time.
He turned and hurled the device. It smashed hard against the front fender of one of the Land Rovers, and the sound of a screen cracking echoed through the air. The young boy stood opened mouthed as the device smashed against the large vehicle.
Now with the tablet destroyed, Ryan and Nathan rushed to Sean’s side. They were relieved to see their friend alive. Ryan gently picked the glass out of Sean’s arm from where the window had exploded in the cab, and he’d dug his arms into it. Sean didn’t move—he couldn’t right then if he wanted to. He wanted to sleep for a million years.
His cracked lips screamed for water. He pointed at the canteen on Nathan’s belt pouch, and the soldier handed it over quickly.
Sean saw the dog in the background, the culprit of his struggles. He smiled at it, despite all the trouble it had caused. He didn’t mind the annoyance for the cute creature, though he regretted losing a Land Rover to the cause. He made his way over to the pug and knelt beside it. The dog looked up at him with sadness in its brown eyes, whining slightly as he sat in the road.
“You’re a bad dog, eh Mr. Pug,” he told the dog. “You caused me so much trouble.”
The pug looked down at his paws then back up at Sean, his collar jingling as he moved. Sean looked at the tag hanging from the pug’s neck. He could see an engraved name and number on the tag.
“What’s this?” he asked the pug. “Cornelius, from Number 19,” he muttered as he read the tag aloud.
Cornelius looked at the sky, unaware of the damage he had caused. Sean looked down at the dog and picked it up. He wanted to take it to its family, but there wasn’t time for that. Not when more zombies were coming. They were too far away.
“Did you hear that?” Nathan said.
Sean’s brows furrowed in confusion. He had no idea what his friend was talking about. Before he could say as much, he heard the faintest of voices from off in the distance. He listened intently.
“Is that…” Sean started, pausing just a moment.
“Uh, company’s coming. Or has everyone forgotten?” Ryan said, staring off in th
e direction where the zombies came from.
“Corneeewius!” There it was again.
Sean heard the faintest voice, but it was clearer—closer. He heard it call out to the dog again, and he saw a little girl come around a corner with her father only a few paces behind her.
“If they don’t quit yelling, they’ll bring every zombie in the area down on themselves,” Nathan said.
Sean turned to him, determination on his face. “Go. Get the trucks. I’ll run the dog down there to her. Hurry your asses up and grab me. My Rover is out of commission. Even if it hadn’t just lost a wheel, there’s no way in hell I can drive it while it’s full of zombie juice.” He visibly shuddered.
“Got it. You need to hurry your ass up, too,” Ryan said.
“Corneeeewius!” the little girl called out again.
The dog barked, and they could hear more growling and groaning in the area. Without another word spoken, Sean ran toward the dad and the little girl.
They weren’t far from home, so he hoped they’d make it back safely.
Nathan and Ryan both ran to their vehicles, and Sean could hear the engines as they roared to life.
As Sean made his way down the block with the dog, he saw the little girl’s face light up. She saw what was in his arms, and both she and her father doubled their speed as they ran closer.
Sean heard a loud growl quickly followed by another. He looked to his left and saw a zombie rush out from between the houses, snarling along the way. The pug responded with aggression, barking and growling in return.
When the zombie laid eyes on the dog, it slowed and then stopped completely. The pug barked more, causing the zombie to back away more. While the monster still seemed very interested in Sean, the dog visibly worried the zombie. It wanted to be nowhere near the tiny canine.
Sean pulled the pocketknife from his belt with one hand, judging the situation carefully as he moved. He heard the approaching footsteps slow, and he risked a look only to find the father holding his daughter back while Sean dealt with the zombie.
Pandemic Z | Book 3 | Pandemic Z 3 Page 6
