The Undead | Day 25 [The Heat]

by Haywood, RR

Good grief. I was glad when we finally did arrive. Let me tell you that. The Saxon stopped and I could see Henry watching us all work and how Cookey and Tappy ran with Charlie to give cover while Charlie got mounted on Jess.

  ‘Overwatch on,’ Roy said from on top of the van with his longbow all ready. ‘They’re charging!’ he called, and I just turned as he let the first arrow go and watched as it hit one of the four infected in the head. Then the dog jumped in and took another one down as H & C finally lifted their rifles to do something constructive, but they were too late because Dave shot them both.

  ‘What the!’ Clarence shouted in surprise then turned to see Dave still aiming his rifle. ‘Was that you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But we had them.’

  ‘So did I,’ Dave said, already turning away as Howie walked over to the one that Roy shot and stared down at the arrow sticking out of the eye.

  ‘Well. Glad we kept one alive, guys,’ Howie said.

  ‘Is he still alive?’ Roy asked.

  ‘I was being sarcastic,’ Howie said

  ‘Oh,’ Roy said. ‘Can you get my arrow back though.’

  ‘Right. I’ll just pull it out of his head, then shall I?’ Howie muttered.

  ‘Why did you want one alive?’ Clarence asked.

  ‘To ask it about the control point thing,’ Howie said while tugging at the arrow which just made the dead guy sit up. ‘Fuck’s sake,’ he pushed it back down then pressed a foot into the face and tried again. ‘Blimey. It’s wedged right in there.’

  ‘Give it a tug,’ Roy shouted.

  ‘I am giving it a tug! Clarence, pull this arrow out.’

  ‘I’m not the arrow guy,’ Clarence said.

  ‘Oh god, no,’ Nick said.

  ‘Nick! Pull this arrow out,’ Howie called. ‘Are the rest of them attacking yet?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Blowers calls.

  ‘Fuckers. Where are they?’ Howie asked as Nick ran over and started tugging at the arrow. ‘Anyone seeing them yet? Charlie?’

  ‘Nothing yet, Mr Howie,’ Charlie called as Jess skittered about.

  ‘Go on, Nick. Give it a tug,’ Roy called.

  ‘Seriously. Where are they?’ Howie asked as Jess ran past with Charlie trying to guide her back the other way while Meredith gripped the body she took down. Making back-lunges with her arse up and her head low. ‘Honestly, Henry. Any minute now,’ Howie called. ‘And boom, all the windows will explode and they’ll leap out. Actually, Nick, add that to your briefing thing: To watch out for exploding glass.’

  ‘I’m not the briefing guy!’ Nick grunted while pulling at the arrow.

  ‘Have you got it out yet, Nick?’ Roy called.

  ‘I’m not the arrow guy either,’ Nick added as the horse ran back the other way.

  ‘You okay, Charlie?’ I asked her.

  ‘Fine thank you! She’s a bit headstrong today.’

  ‘Honestly. Just wait,’ Howie said, nodding at Henry. ‘I bet they’re watching us right now. Like tens of them.’

  ‘Dozens probably,’ Clarence said

  ‘Hundreds,’ Howie added.

  ‘Thousands sometimes,’ Clarence said with fading hope as the horse ran past again.

  ‘You sure you’re okay, Charlie?’ I asked.

  ‘FINE!’

  ‘Have you got it yet, Nick?’

  ‘Does it look like I’ve got it yet, Roy?’

  ‘That’s it guys, stay sharp,’ Howie said.

  ‘This fucking arrow,’ Nick shouted, losing his temper as he stepped back and pulled his axe free.

  ‘HONESTLY. I’M FINE,’ Charlie yelled as Jess turned on the spot having clearly locked onto whatever smell she was scenting in the air and aimed for a shopfront. ‘Whoa,’ Charlie called, tugging on the reins. ‘Jess. JESS! BLOODY STOP!’ she yelled as Nick chopped the head off and Meredith finally wrenched the arm free from the body she was attacking and started running back to the Saxon with it.

  ‘There’s your fucking arrow,’ Nick said, throwing the severed head onto the top of Roy’s van as Jess barged through a shop door, smacking chairs and tables aside to reach the cafe counter to snort a few lines of chocolate powder before popping a carton of oatmilk.

  ‘Yeah, I don’t think they’re coming,’ Clarence said.

  ‘Damn,’ Howie said. ‘Charlie! Is that a café?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Howie,’ she shouted with milk dripping from her head.

  ‘Blimey. Best brew up then,’ Howie said. ‘Where’s the coffee guy?’

  ‘Fuck me,’ Nick said as he started towards the cafe. ‘I’ll fucking do it shall I.’

  ‘I actually meant Cookey,’ Howie said. ‘But whatever. Henry, fancy a coffee? We’re not getting in the Saxon for half hour at least. Not until Nick sorts his dog out anyway.’

  ‘She’s not my dog!’

  18

  Day Twenty-nine

  A large car park shimmering with heat hazes. A lone SUV parked up with the doors open as the air fills with grunts and gasps.

  ‘OH MY GOD WE’RE FUCKING IN A SAFARI CAR PARK!’

  A few moments later and once more bathed in sweat while rubbery of leg, Heather and Paco head towards the large entrance area for Stickleton Safari Park. Dozens of sprawling acres set deep within the southern home counties.

  ‘That’s going to be interesting,’ Heather says, using her scarf to mop the sweat from her face as they pass one of the display boards showcasing the BIG CAT DRIVE THRU.

  Images of Landrovers painted in black and white stripes to look like zebras against a backdrop of a savannah complete with pictures of lions and other animals.

  They reach the entrance kiosks and head through onto a long winding lane leading to the reception building, and that blistering sun glares down as Paco sets to work on getting inside to the reception area.

  ‘FUCK OFF!’

  ‘HELP!’

  ‘That’s a kid!’ Heather says, feeling a jolt inside as she clambers through the busted doors and runs towards the Jungle Restaurant. Following the cries for help, and hearing more noises coming from inside. Howls and screeches. Bangs and smashes.

  She slams through the doors. Sights and smells hit. Too many all at once as a flash of red flies at them. A huge wingspan and a large beak set in a white face that screams out as it flutters by. ‘HELP! FUCK OFF!’

  ‘Ether!’ Paco shouts a warning and grabs her tac-vest to pull her from the path of an ocelot running towards them with its eyes fixed on the macaw flying overhead.

  A meowling snarl as it speeds up to leap at the wall, using it to bounce off to launch through the air, just missing the tail feathers as Heather backs into Paco with both looking around at the large open-plan room.

  A high vaulted ceiling filled with beams and struts. Plants everywhere. Waterfall features and small bridges over intersecting pools filled with shimmering carp and goldfish. Tables and chairs in the restaurant area. Nearly all of them tipped over and scattered about. A scene of absolute carnage. It stinks too. The smell of dung and urine mixed with foods and earthy plant smells. The heat and humidity only making it worse.

  ‘What the hell?’ Heather murmurs, thinking it looks like a troop of wild monkeys have taken refuge and trashed the place.

  Which is exactly what’s happened, and she blinks at the troop of eighty rhesus monkeys that have taken refuge and trashed the place as the whole room seems to freeze in silence for one second before exploding into noise and motion.

  They come from every direction at once. Dozens of monkeys letting rip with wails and yells. Bouncing about all over the place in excitement at seeing people, because people mean food. They pour over the tables and chairs. Over the counter, and from the gift shop. Swinging on plastic ferns and leaping from beam to beam.

  ‘Oh shit,’ Heather says, catching sight of a big iguana taking cover under a bridge as an otter peeks through a waterfall with a coy carp flapping in its mouth. ‘RUN!’

  They turn to flee but the swarm comes with little monk
ey bodies launching from many places at once.

  ‘I think they want food!’ Heather says as Paco prises a primate from his face. She swats at another one clawing at her neck and tries to pull it free. ‘God, they’re really vicious. Ow! Shit, one bit me. Are they biting you?’

  ‘ES!’ Paco shouts, circling his arms wildly as several monkeys fly off, but that just gives space for more to clamber up and scratch and bite as they hunt for food.

  ‘FUCK OFF!’ the macaw yells.

  ‘You fuck off,’ Heather yells back. ‘They need food. Where’s the food?’

  ‘THEY NEED FOOD,’ the macaw says, in near perfect mimicry as Heather spots Paco starting towards the counter.

  She sets off after him, but their motion only seems to elicit an even greater response as the monkeys bounce, and screech, and start grabbing things to throw.

  ‘What the shit!’ Heather says as a spoon hits her forehead. ‘Who threw that?’

  ‘WHO THREW THAT?’ the macaw calls out.

  ‘Piss off! I do not sound like that. Just open the door!’ Heather yells as Paco lifts a leg and shakes it free of monkeys before getting donked on the back of the head by a metal pot.

  ‘HAHA!’ the macaw says, dancing on an overhead beam and watching the fun below.

  ‘They’re worse than bloody zombies,’ Heather says as Paco boots the door.

  A thud as it slams open and the monkeys, as one, all cease their naughty monkeying about, and turn to look in monkey awe at the door to the secret room of forbidden mystery now standing open.

  The one they couldn’t get through because it was locked, but they could smell the things inside that storeroom. The jars of pickles and jams. The cartons of creams and milks. The packets of bread and boxed cakes.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Heather says, and a second later the ground grows thick with furry brown bodies running through. All whooping and chattering with glee.

  ‘Haha!’ the macaw says. ‘Bear.’

  ‘What?’ Heather asks, scowling up at it.

  ‘Bear!’ The macaw shouts, hopping from foot to foot.

  ‘What bear? Oh shit. That Bear… RUN PACO!’

  With nowhere to go they dive over the counter to avoid the path of the very hungry three hundred kilo North American black bear charging towards the secret room of forbidden mystery. Which thereby prompts an even greater screech as the eighty or so rhesus monkeys try and fling pots and pans and poop at it.

  Heather and Paco hit the ground hard then dart away again from the meowling growl as the ocelot impacts on Paco’s chest, using him as a springboard to try and reach the macaw still hopping on the beam overhead.

  ‘HAHA! FUCK OFF!’ the bird yells as the bear roars, and the monkeys screech.

  ‘We need to go,’ Heather says, clambering to her feet. They set off towards the closest exit point, and out into a scene from the cover of a religious pamphlet.

  Zebras and antelopes grazing on the enormous expanse of a grassed area used for outside dining. More water features dotted here and there. Willow trees, and thick green bushes growing all over the place, forming a lush, almost tropical environment baking under the scorching sun.

  Asses and donkeys grazing with them. Llamas and goats. A scene of paradise, and tranquillity. Meerkats running about, and a family of capybara drink from a pond as a few shy gazelle glance over to Heather and Paco, while behind them, the fight for the secret room of forbidden mystery intensifies as the rhesus monkeys try and stop the fat bear from eating everything.

  ‘This is mental. Who the hell set them all free?’ Heather asks, turning to look at Paco. She spots movement beyond him and smiles in delight at the sight of a baby white rhino waddling into view. ‘Oh my god. Look! how cute is that?’

  Paco turns as the bushes shake and part from the heads of the mummy and daddy rhinos pushing through to find their calf.

  ‘Oh shit,’ Heather says. ‘They’re really protective, aren’t they?’

  ‘Es,’ Paco says as the mummy rhino determines, in her rhinoceros’ way of determining things, that she is, in fact, extremely protective. As is the daddy rhino who snorts and sniffs the air with both of them detecting the newcomers but unable to pinpoint the exact direction.

  ‘Just stay still,’ Heather whispers. ‘They’ve got really poor eyesight.’

  ‘Bear!’ The macaw yells out, flying from the restaurant behind them as the rhinos snap their heads over.

  ‘What Bear?’ Heather asks. ‘Oh shit! That Bear. RUN PACO!’ she grabs his arm and sets off as the three-hundred kilo angry bear runs from the restaurant with a face full of jam, and several dozen screeching rhesus monkeys running after it. Which only seems to send a shockwave of panic through the rhinos who burst to motion with such speed they startle the herd of zebra from their contented grazing, which, in turn, startle the gazelles who give fright to the donkeys and asses. Thereby commencing a chain reaction as the flight instinct of those animals - that by their very nature know they like to be eaten – kicks in, and they all commence one huge stampede.

  Luckily the ground slopes downhill which aids the speed gained by Heather and Paco. Unluckily, that same downward slope also helps everything else too, most of which are faster, and bigger than Heather and Paco who get swept along within that great press.

  Heather spots a gap and tries to get free but bounces off a zebra and slews into an ass then off again to see an antelope springing past. Or it could be a gazelle. Heather isn’t quite sure, only that’s it leaping. Which is what the kangaroo bounding next to her are also doing. ‘They’ve got kangaroos! I love kangaroos.’

  ‘RUFFALO!’ Paco shouts.

  ‘What a fo?’ Heather asks, amidst the mayhem. ‘Gruffalo?’

  ‘NO. RUFFALO!’

  ‘Oh! Buffalo. FUCK! RUN, PACO!’

  Paco thinks maybe Heather needs to stop telling him to run when he is, in fact, already running. But he saves his breath and focuses instead on veering left, which is what the entire stampede does to absorb the Gruffalo Ruffalo Buffalo joining the great flow.

  ‘IT’S LIKE JUMANJI!’ Heather yells as Paco then thinks to tell her to fuck off because he was meant to be in Jumanji, but the part was given to The Rock instead.

  Wanker.

  A flamboyance of flamingos and a party of peacocks run across the path ahead, fleeing from the flock of ostrich coming behind them and the mighty stampede flows on as the energy seems to change with a great surge of fear and panic making the creatures roll eyes as they run. Snorting and huffing. Some wailing and screeching.

  Still neither Heather nor Paco can do anything other than keep running while snatching glances to the vast savannah style grounds ahead. Heather tries to think why they’re all going that way.

  She starts to feel the first real pulse of fear too. She isn’t like Paco. She can’t run at this speed for more than a few seconds, especially in this heat. Her lungs are already bursting.

  The stampede veers again. Like a school of fish reacting to a threat, but fish only move like that when they’re reacting to external forces.

  That thought brings another jolt of fear as she catches glimpse of something fast and low running just beyond the stampede. Images rush into her mind and she remembers the sign on the way in. THE BIG CAT DRIVE THRU. The pictures on the board. The images of Lions.

  ‘Bear!’ The macaw shouts as Heather thinks the sodding bear is the least of their worries right now. She even risks a glance back to see the bear and the rhinos are gone from sight. But then again, they’re not exactly on the menu for the pride of lions driving them into the wide-open grounds, and just waiting for something weak to falter.

  A scream from the side. Heather spots a young zebra veering away from a lioness lunging at it. The stampeding herd veers again. A glimpse of water somewhere ahead.

  The only thing Heather can do is keep running, except she can’t. She’s running out of energy. Her legs are burning like crazy, and her lungs can’t get enough oxygen.

  A great compression
then comes as the lions close in from all sides. Driving the animals together.

  The whole of the thing speeds up, but in so doing they bash and barge into each other. Slamming Heather about as she staggers and tries to keep going.

  They come fast. A rush of brown bodies packed with muscle. One leaps past her, aiming for the rear end of the young zebra. The paws connect as the lioness opens her mouth to bite, but the zebra bucks and kicks, making the lion slide off as it runs free.

  Fear in its eyes. The noise it makes. A horrible pain-filled cry for help. A cry from a baby to a mother. A cry from a youngling. The lion lunges again as Heather spots more coming in. They’ve chosen the one they want, and now they’re closing it down. Using positioning to isolate the foal away from the bigger animals.

  The foal cries again and starts to falter. Growing panicked and skittish. A flash of black and white as an adult zebra tries to flank the foal, but it’s not enough, and the foal cries out as the lions close in.

  Images of Subi come to Heather’s mind. Rajesh and Amna too. The children she got to the fort. That same protective energy flaring up. The same need to defend those too weak to defend themselves, and without thought, Heather draws the pistol from her tac-vest and fires a shot at the lion. The round misses. The sound almost unheard. She starts to slow. Aiming the gun to fire again as Paco hits her from the side, taking her up and over the back of a buffalo. A hand to the backside and the huge animal speeds up with Heather on top.

  She grips one of the curved horns while the beast runs on. A snatched look to the side. To Paco diving to get on the back of another Buffalo.

  Dust and heat. Motion and noise. She bounces hard, almost shaken free as a rhesus monkey lands on her shoulder and starts to slip off. Squealing out in panic as Heather clocks the baby monkey clinging to his mother. She grabs at the animals and swings hard to get them up onto the head of the buffalo where they can grip the horns, but the motion sends her sliding off. She fights to get back up, and screams out when a lion leaps at her, and her vision fills with a mouth full of huge teeth opening for the bite before missing and dropping away.

  A second’s worth of view then comes as she hangs upside down, nearly being dragged. A view of the stampeding animals and the monkeys riding heads and backs. The macaw still in the air.