“Look, there are drops of it heading towards the ship, let’s check it out, and be ready for anything,” said Dave.
They stepped quietly and carefully towards the rusty hulk, heading for the opposite side. There were a couple of large holes in the bulkhead, clearly breached by the vessel being lashed upon the rocks. As they took the bend around the large bow, Tommy could already see one of the boys stood fifty feet in front beside of the hull.
“Dave, Dave,” said Tommy.
Dave came into view of the boy, not knowing whether to be relieved or concerned. It was Ryan, and his back was turned to the men, just stood, looking out to sea. The men stepped warily closer towards the boy, praying that he was just in shock.
“Ryan, hey Ryan, it’s Dave. Are you okay, son?”
There was no response. They continued to step closer, not letting their guard down, following the shape of the tall hulk.
“Ryan, talk to me,” pleaded Tommy.
Finally, the boy started to turn around, and Dave began to feel a sense of relief already but his hopes were dashed within seconds. As the boy turned to look at the men, the crazy eyes of the zombie horde was quickly apparent, blood staining much of his clothing.
“Fuck me sideway,” said Dave.
“Jesus Christ, not again, not my Ryan!” sobbed Tommy.
All of the men raised their weapons, but as Jones strung an arrow onto his bow he was struck from the side. A zombie had burst out from a gaping wound in the ship’s hull and knocked him to the floor with its bodyweight. The other three men turned to react but the creature had already taken hold and driven its teeth into Jones’ throat, the man screamed out in agony. Dave shouldered his shotgun to fire, but Steve had noticed Ryan was almost onto them already, he swung the stock out and clubbed the boy in the face, smashed his nose and knocking him backwards.
Dave pulled the first trigger on his shotgun, the creature’s head above Jones exploded, sending blood all over the wounded man. Dave immediately turned and lined the shotgun up to Ryan’s head, not hesitating to fire. The skull exploded as the ball bearings tore through the boy’s small skull, his body toppling lifelessly to the stones.
“Jones?” asked Dave.
The man could not respond, he was gurgling in his own blood, his windpipe torn apart, his blood mixed with the body of the zombie in a horrible mess, he had only moments to live.
“I’m sorry, Jones, but take relief in the fact that we will not let you become one of those things,” said Dave.
Steve stepped forward, he aimed his shotgun carefully, and squeezed the trigger, Jones’ body went immediately lifeless as the area was coated in yet more blood.
“What the fuck is going on here?” cried Tommy.
“I would say that is quite clear, this boat contained zombies, or people that became infected somehow, the real question is, how many of them are there?” asked Dave.
“How many would you think?” asked Steve.
“Honestly I have no idea, a trawler like that would have a crew of two dozen maybe, I am guessing, maybe more, but in these times, they could have had any number of poor bastards onboard,” said Dave.
“What do we do now, Dave? What can I tell his mother?” Tommy cried, with tears streaming down his face.
“The only thing we can do is get back to town, and hope we get there first.”
He broke open the barrel of his side-by-side shotgun and pulled the smoking empty cartridges from it, throwing them to the ground. As he loaded two new shells in, he heard the resounding clang of the church bells at the opposite end of the island.
“Fuck!” shouted Dave.
“Now we are truly fucked, they must be there already!” said shouted Steve.
* * *
The town was quiet, tired from the repair work they had undertaken, with concern setting in deeply for their missing boys. No one feared the threat of zombies anymore, they were almost a forgotten enemy, but they did fear the misadventure that boys could find with the strong sea around their island.
Travis and Kelly were sitting on the stone wall which surrounded the church, looking out to sea. Most of the other islanders were in their homes getting cleaned up following the work. It was already getting dark and the heavy cloud cover and rain was darkening it further, but Travis and Kelly could not think of anything else but their boy. Roger walked past the couple as he was heading towards the church.
“Hey, Roger, any news?” asked Travis.
“No, nothing yet.”
“Why don’t we get more people out there looking for the boys?” shouted Sandra as she walked by.
“You know that’s just unwise and downright dangerous, we have no idea why they are missing. It’s probably nothing, but we cannot afford to take such large risks. The four men I have sent are capable and will find them,” said Roger.
“Where are you heading?” asked Travis.
“Up to the church, I have a few supplies to drop of there.”
It was indeed true that Roger was carrying supplies to the church, but not the everyday supplies that the couple were thinking, but weapons and ammunition. The large Bergen on Roger’s back contained several handguns and small shotguns from the raiders the week before. He was hoping that Dave would return with the boys, but also already concerned that they had not. The church was a strong defendable position, with good clear visibility all around and tall walls.
“Stop worrying, I’m sure they’ll be back in no time. Now why don’t you get out of this awful weather, go home, get changed, I’ll see you at my house later,” said Roger.
The couple nodded in agreement and got up to head to their home. A few minutes later they were at their front door. The couple were pale and distraught from thinking about their son, when Kelly shot a glimpse down their garden to see the outline of their son Dennis.
“Dennis? Dennis!” shouted Kelly.
The couple ran towards the boy who was stumbling towards the house. In her desperate need to hug her son she paid absolutely no attention to his condition, pale and soulless. The blood running down his body was not visible due to the wound being to the side and back of his neck. As Kelly held him tight she felt his jaw delve into her throat, she screamed out in agony as the realisation that this was no longer her son set in.
“No!” shouted Travis.
He tried to step backwards, but in the panic tripped and fell to the ground. He was in utter shock having lost both his son and wife. He looked up at his wife reeling in pain, soon to die, and his son who was already bearing down on him. Travis could have got up and run, but had lost the will to live and move, and was still in too much of a state to think any different. Dennis climbed onto his father and bit into his flesh, whilst the man still looked in desperation at his dying wife.
From inside the thick stone walls of the church Roger was completely oblivious to Kelly’s screams. These shrieks of agony had however not gone unnoticed to some of the other islanders. Derek and Katy quickly grabbed an axe and club hammer from their kitchen and ran out to find the source of the problem. Reaching their neighbours’ home they could see the bodies of their friends on the ground, Dennis still biting into his father who was now lifeless. Zombies began pouring towards them from behind the couple’s house.
“Jesus Christ, we’re finished!” cried Derek.
“Let’s go!” shouted Katy.
“Where?”
Before she could answer, further screams rang out from the people who lived in the next house.
“Do we help them?” asked Derek.
“No, either they can help themselves or they are goners, let’s get to the church!” shouted Katy.
The couple got up to a jogging speed, knowing they could outrun the creatures, at least in the short term. As they ran the short distance to the church it was quite clear that they were overcome with zombies. They reached the building but the heavy wooden door was locked. They beat heavily against it, praying somebody was alive inside to open it for them. Looking around, the horde was already clos
ing in on them with thirty creatures in sight already.
“Fuck, what do we do?” asked Derek.
The heavy bolt slid across and the big door was heaved open by Roger, he looked first at the shocked look of his two friends, and then into the distance beyond them, his expression turned to dread.
“Get inside, now!”
The couple ran in through the doorway and Roger slammed the door shut, with the creatures just forty feet from their position.
“What the hell happened?” asked Roger.
“No idea, they came out of nowhere. Kelly, Travis and Dennis are all gone, and we heard screams coming from the house next door to us.
“Christ, we’re overrun, I’ll get on the bells,” said Roger.
He ran to the bell tower of the church and immediately began to yank the ropes of the church bells, the emergency signal that could be heard across the whole island. He only hoped that there were other survivors left to hear them. He went back to Katy and Derek.
“Are those the only weapons you have?” asked Roger.
“Yes,” said Katy.
“I have some guns here, but not a huge amount of ammo, let’s break them out!”
Emptying Roger’s bag out onto a table they began to take stock of what weapons they did have. Two .357 revolvers, with twelve rounds only, a Glock with just seven rounds left in the magazine, and a sawn of shotgun with five rounds.
“This it?” asked Derek.
“Yes, there are more supplies at our house, but that’s no help to use now. I only brought these here as an emergency measure, none of us could have expected a full scale attack.”
“How did they even get here?” asked Derek.
“I have no idea, if Dave is still alive, he will probably have more answers, but that is no help to us now,” said Roger.
“So what do we do?” asked Katy.
“Any idea on the horde’s numbers?” asked Roger.
“We’ve seen about fifty, but I can bet there are a lot more out there, those were just the ones we could see,” she answered.
“Shit, then we only have a few options,” said Roger.
“Which are?” asked Derek.
“Well this place is solid, they can’t get in, we can wait it out here, hoping Dave and his guys are alive and can help us out. We can try and fight them ourselves, or we can make a break for the jetty and take a boat.”
“But we have no idea if help is coming, not enough ammunition to fight, and nowhere to go even if we get to a boat,” said Katy.
“Hey, I didn’t say they were ideal, I said they were our options!” shouted Roger.
“Jesus Christ, we’re fucked,” Derek said.
“Quite possibly yes,” said Roger.
The couple went silent, thinking about the crappy options that lay before them.
“I cannot believe that after ten years of survival that this is what it has come to, what did we do wrong?” asked Katy.
“I say we make a break for my house, at least we will have the weapons we need to fight back,” said Roger.
“And if we don’t make it?” asked Derek.
“Then we go down fighting. The longer we wait here the larger the horde will get and the less chance we have of breaking out.”
“Alright, at least that’s a plan,” said Katy.
“Right, I’ll take the shotgun and the Glock, you take a revolver each, and keep onto those tools you have, they will probably be needed,” said Roger.
The three survivors picked up their weapons and got everything in order.
“You ready?” asked Roger.
“Yeah,” said Katy.
“Remember now, no hesitation, when I open that door we give them hell, and keep at it until we can get free.”
“Okay,” said Derek.
Roger stood in front of the big door with the shotgun by his side in his left hand and the glock aimed at the doorway, Katy was beside him. Derek slid the bolt across, the weight of the creatures flung it open.
“Fire!” screamed Roger.
CHAPTER 6
The March, United Kingdom
Nothing could have prepared Nick and Artur for the scene that awaited them along the eastern wall. This part of the town hadn’t faced trouble in several years, and for some unknown reason a large horde was already at the wall, battering at the stone walls and wooden gate. Gunfire rained down onto the attackers, but the weapons appeared to have little effect on such massive numbers.
As Nick and Artur dismounted the ten men from the mobile reserve arrived, they’d obviously spotted the signal at the same time. The men stood for a moment, assessing the situation. Gary, the ex-policeman, saw the problem first.
“There, part of the wall has collapsed!” he shouted before running to the problem area.
He was right. The tall medieval wall had a breach about six feet wide and in the gap a small number of militia were bravely trying to hold back the horde.
“Come on, get in there!” shouted Nick as they rushed to the spot.
Several bodies were on the ground by the time they reached the breach. Gary was already in the breach, swinging his mace and protecting himself with his riot shield. Each swing brought another zombie down. Five more of the reserve jumped in hacking and slashing at the monsters that were trying to get inside. Nick pulled back one of the original defenders.
“Use the rubble from behind,” he pointed at the demolished houses and shops, “and get this hole filled.”
The man nodded and ran to enlist the aid of several more people to help move the materials. Nick moved back to the breach and joined in, his tough metal blade proving the perfect weapon for such a fight. As he swung his blade he called to Artur.
“Get guns on the walls and drive the zombies back, we need to give them time to repair the breach,” he called and Artur moved off to carry out the plan.
Two of the reserves appeared with a slightly burnt door and moved it into the breach, pushing the zombies back.
“Forward!” shouted Nick, as the small group pushed, forcing the zombies back and outside the wall.
Gunfire from the wall rained down, slightly reducing the numbers moving to the gap. A massive blast from one of the hook guns created a large dent in the bodies. Dropping the door down in front the men crowded around the improvised wall. The battle raged on as more and more pieces of wood, stone and debris were brought forwards to repair the hole.
Two more blasts from the hook guns cleared the space in front, finally giving the men the time they needed to erect something more substantial. Nick hacked down another creature before the numbers thinned enough for him to take a breath. He looked around, noting the greatly reduced numbers of undead. The breach was filling in nicely and the militia were now able to hold their own and continue repairing the damage.
“Good work, people. We need to get back to the vehicles, let’s go!” he cried.
The group moved back, their places now taken by the defenders of the sector. One of the men moved up it was Zack the gamer they met years ago.
“Thanks, man. That was looking pretty rough. We can hold it from here, there was a weakness in the wall. Anything you need?”
Nick tapped him on the shoulder.
“We’re good, you just watch the wall.”
Zack nodded and then turned back, helping the rest with the repairs.
Nick and Artur faced the bloodied but uninjured reserves. They looked an absolute mess but they had certainly done an incredible job. Another flare arced across the sky, this time from the western sector, presumably one of the bridges. Before they could move it was joined by another from the southern wall.
“Come on, guys. We’ll take the south, the bridge is closest to the castle, they can deal with that one!” shouted Nick as he lifted his motorcycle from the ground.
The rest of the group did the same and they headed off to fix yet another potential crisis.
* * *
The battle for the southern wall was less desperate than the pre
vious fight. There was no breach, but the real problem came from the storm. It started just as the reserve reached the wall but by the time they were able to reach the battlements and help drive off the attacks, the rain and wind had lashed the defences making it hard to see, let alone fight. As well as this, the rain made the muskets and hook guns far less reliable. Nick and the rest had sallied out and cut down the creatures near the walls, keeping them clear of the walls and the town. That wasn’t the worst problem though. It was the fire that had been the reason for the flare, and for the unfolding disaster in this area. That was six hours ago and Nick, Artur and the rest of the group were still trying to control the blaze. What had started as a misfiring hook gun had ended in a fire on the damaged tower. Burning powder had blown in the wind and caught more of the stores and the stacks of debris behind the hastily repaired fortifications. Now the fires had spread through more than ten houses.
Nick stood a short distance from the blaze, co-ordinating the effort. Carter arrived on his motorcycle, looking flustered. His face was cut and bleeding quite badly.
“What’s going on? We can see the fire from the castle!”
“We’re holding, it looks worse than you might think,” said Nick, though he didn’t sound very convincing.
“Ok, well, we’ve got bigger problems.”
“The bridges?” asked Nick.
“No, they’re holding, the problem is Davies. He managed to get out and get inside the castle. I tried to stop him and ended up getting this in the face,” he said as he pointed to his cuts.
“He’s stripped out the reserves and taken them somewhere, probably trying to save his skin like he usually does.”
“Fuck!” swore Nick as he paced around.
“What is he doing? He can only leave by road or boat.”
“I doubt it will be by road, the vehicles are still in the compound and guarded near the short bridge. I bet the boats are where he’s headed.”
A series of bright flashes came from the direction of the castle indicated major trouble and to retreat to the castle.
“What the hell?” shouted Carter. “It was ok when I Ieft.”
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