The Undead | Day 25 [The Heat]

by Haywood, RR

‘You’re funny,’ Carmen said, giving me a grin, but buggered if I knew what she was smiling at.

  Anyway. So we set off into the field, which, granted, was very dry and so traction was not an issue, but as predicted, I was shaken about all over the place, and at one point I almost slid off my chair and had to be held down by Carmen clamping her hands on my shoulders.

  ‘You’re very knotted,’ she said as her hands started kneading my poor muscles. ‘I’ll try and loosen you up.’

  I tried to say I’d rather not be loosened up if it was all the same but ended up yelping from her thumb jabbing into the back of my neck.

  ‘What was that?’ Roy asked with another glance back. ‘Oh, are you good at massages, Carmen? Only I’ve got this twinge.’

  Good lord it was most surreal. And while that was going on, I was watching Jess galloping along while still flying the drone to lead Howie to the school that we didn’t need to save. Which was all because I didn’t want Henry, or Howie for that matter, looking too far ahead until I was ready to show them.

  We’d only have one chance you see. They had to be mentally ready, and they weren’t there yet.

  ‘Reggie. We’ve got the buildings in sight. Get the drone ahead and scout it,’ Howie ordered into the radio. His voice all full of energy and passion to save the poor kiddies. Not that I could do anything while Roy was driving like a maniac and Carmen was digging her fingers into my poor neck after I pretended to have a heart attack.

  Paula

  ‘I don’t get it. So, is it a school or a hospital?’ Cookey asked again.

  ‘School!’ several people replied as we bounced about in the back of the Saxon.

  ‘Duh. Then why’s it called a hospital?’ Cookey asked.

  ‘Exactly!’ Howie said from the front. ‘Reggie! Get the drone ahead. Is he there? Roy? Can you hear me?’

  ‘He’s fine. He’s getting a massage,’ Roy said.

  ‘What the fuck!’ Howie said.

  ‘I’m not getting a massage! I’m being held down, so I don’t bounce around like a blasted pinball.’

  ‘Is Carmen giving him a massage?’ I asked, looking at Marcy.

  ‘Reggie! You smooth shit. She’s only been in the van for ten minutes,’ Marcy said.

  ‘Radio discipline!’ Henry then snapped into the radio.

  ‘Oh, sod off, Henry,’ Marcy said. ‘Reggie’s getting his groove on.’

  ‘I am not getting anything on other than my bottom on this chair!’ Reginald squawked.

  ‘Watch out for his mayonnaise, Carmen,’ Cookey said to a chorus of laughs and cheers.

  ‘Very quick,’ Carmen said.

  ‘What me or him?’ Cookey asked, earning more laughs as we went past the outbuildings and through the last hedge bordering the school.

  ‘FUCK!’ Tappy then yelled as we all held on for dear life while sliding and falling about from Tappy swerving hard at the same time as Frank yelled fence! Into the radio.

  Reginald

  Then Frank yelled a warning through the radio just as we went through the hedge in time to see the Saxon and the SUV steering hard over to avoid the huge metal fence in front of them.

  ‘HOLD ON!’ Roy shouted, twisting the wheel while braking hard and trying to account for the weight and motion of the horse trailer.

  Carmen was still trying to keep me firmly within my seat, but the harsh braking and turning were simply too great and so the poor woman went over the back of my chair and face first into my lap just before we both flew off onto the floor in a tangle of limbs – which was really most undignified.

  ‘Who put that sodding fence there!?’ Roy said as I popped my head up to see an infected lady running face first into it before flying back several feet in a shower of sparks.

  ‘It’s electric! Tell Charlie not to touch it,’ Carmen shouted from somewhere beneath me as Roy swerved harder to give it a wide berth and I tumbled back down and inadvertently grabbed one of her bosoms.

  ‘Oh my good god. I am so terribly sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine. But maybe buy me a drink first?’ she said as Howie yelled through the radio. ‘Charlie! Don’t touch the fence. Holy fuck did you see that?’

  ‘That must be some serious power to generate that kind of reaction,’ Roy said as I then saw rows of heads popping up over the crenelated edge of the roof. Small ones and big ones. Which was bizarre enough in itself given the position I was in, but then it got even more bizarre when I saw them all bringing rifles up to aim down towards the ground.

  ‘GUNS ON THE ROOF!’ Carmen yelled into the radio as they opened up with Dave returning fire a second later. Strafing the roof with the gimpy.

  ‘Tell him to stop!’ I called in alarm as both Roy and Carmen tried to transmit.

  ‘NO, DAVE!’ Charlie shouted through the radio. ‘CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE! They’re shooting the infected.’

  ‘Infected!’ Roy was trying to say at the same time. ‘They’re shooting the infected.’

  ‘Get on the loudspeaker. Tell them we’re friendlies,’ Henry then ordered as Howie’s amplified voice boomed out a second later.

  ‘DON’T SHOOT US! WE ARE HERE TO HELP!’

  ‘THEN GET OUT OF THE BLOODY WAY!’ An amplified female voice replied.

  ‘We’ll lead out,’ Henry said with Frank powering on to get in front and driving along the fortified fence line.

  That fence was very well put together too. I caught sight of the big linking stems buried deep into the earth connecting the thick chain-link fence panels topped with razor wire with sandbags stacked up on the inside giving it weight and strength, and of course the massive current running through it from the generators connected by thick wires did the rest.

  Indeed. All along that fence line we saw the bodies of the infected. Either zapped then shot or shot dead before they even touched the fence.

  It was big too and looped around four large buildings all framing what looked to be a big open square in the middle.

  We followed the fence line, listening to the shots coming from the rooftops and finally found a road running along the front.

  By that time, I figured I could finally give them some aerial assistance and respond as though we had just ‘stumbled across’ the place. Which, to all intents and purposes, we had just done.

  And so, I managed to get myself untangled from Carmen, who was being very decent about the whole breast touching thing, and quickly recover my controller before getting back to my battle desk and monitor. Which was lucky as the drone was slowly dropping out of control.

  A jiffy later, and I had it up with a commanding view of the four large red brick mansion buildings set in a quadrant with a large open area in the middle.

  However, one of those buildings was set back a little, which allowed the road to run past the front of it and give access to that large inner square, and it was upon that road and towards that square the infected were running towards.

  Dozens of them in fact, and in actuality I then surmised that perhaps it was good fortune we had ‘stumbled’ across them because the attack they were under was rather large, and I rather feared the infected would either short their fence out, or simply knock it over with enough bodies thrown at it.

  Carmen, however, also saw the same as I, and was very quick to assess the situation.

  ‘Howie, get on the loudspeaker,’ she said through the radio. ‘Tell them we’ll take these out if they focus their fire on the rear and sides.’

  Howie didn’t question her but relayed the instructions as the SUV slowed for the Saxon to take the lead and batter through the backs of the attacking horde with the SUV and the van running close on its heels.

  The fact that re-adjustment of tactical positioning was done without the need for communication was the first real show of collective teamwork. Albeit it was Frank driving the SUV and not Henry. But it was an important step, and one that I did not miss.

  Nor did I miss it when the Saxon led the charge and gave room for the SUV and the van to get into a
line behind her, with all of the vehicles presenting side on to the attacking force.

  A second later and the teams were out and firing into the infected. Knowing there was no risk of rounds going into the buildings behind them. Carmen was out too. Standing just outside the sliding door and firing her assault rifle.

  ‘Where’s Charlie?’ Howie shouted into the radio.

  ‘She’s safe. She’s in the field at the side chasing them down,’ I relayed, seeing Jess galloping along like the wind with Charlie up in the saddle, swinging her bloody great big axe down on skulls.

  And of course, those poor little kiddies were still on the roof shooting the infected at the rear.

  I then switched the view back to our line and saw the infected, although now vastly reduced in number, were closing in with alarming speed. Which duly prompted Dave to give the order.

  ‘HANDWEAPONS!’ he shouted, and my word, what a voice he has. Then Howie and the others were slinging rifles and once more the axes, blades and machetes were being gripped and made ready.

  ‘INTO THEM!’ Howie gave the yell as Carmen slung her rifle, drew a knife from her belt and gave a big yell as she too set off. Interestingly, I also saw Bashir leap over the front of the SUV with his knife in his hand and set off too, while Henry, Frank and Joan remained in position firing single shot. Then Charlie and Jess came a-galloping around the corner, and it got all very intense with limbs and heads being lopped off all over the show.

  ‘Alright then Randy Reg,’ Marcy then said with a big smile as she leant in through the still open side door. ‘Did you get a happy ending?’

  ‘What?’ I asked her as she mimicked masturbation with a closed fist.

  ‘Marcy!’ I said with much disgust.

  ‘Don’t Marcy me you mucky little man. She is hot though.’

  ‘Good lord! Close the blasted door and go and help the others.’

  ‘I’m guarding you,’ she said with a wink. ‘And I’m still injured,’ she added, showing me her chipped fingernail. ‘I made Roy write a note and gave it to Paula.’

  ‘For a nail?’

  ‘I’m joking, Reggie. No, I mean I did make him write a note but for a laugh. Sheesh. You get one handjob and you’re all up your own arse.’

  ‘Marcy, please!’

  ‘I’m teasing you! Anyway, what are you up to?’

  ‘I’m not up to anything, other than becoming highly irritated.’

  ‘You are. You’re up to something. I know you, Reggie.’

  ‘Marcy.’

  ‘Relax! It’s fine. Howie trusts you so whatever. Just do what you need to do. How big is it anyway?’

  ‘How big is what?’ I asked her.

  ‘Your willy,’ she said with a mock serious look as I rolled my eyes and huffed. ‘The horde we’re following,’ she said in a quieter voice as I reminded myself of just how bloody astute she could be. ‘Okay,’ she said when I didn’t answer. ‘Just be careful. Don’t bite off more than we can chew. Unlike your new girlfriend.’

  ‘Marcy!’

  She burst out laughing and poked her tongue at me before turning to look out. ‘I think we’re done.’

  I brought the drone in to land and popped it back on charge before stepping out to see Howie and the team once more surrounded by a sea of death and Jess popping skulls.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Roy said. ‘You seen this?’

  Of course we all looked over to him, then to what he was looking at. Which was the world beyond the fence, and specifically, the inside of the square between those four buildings – and I’ll admit, that while I knew the school was fortified from scouting the area in advance, I hadn’t scrutinised it for specific details.

  What I had seen, by flying at a very high height and zooming in close, which that drone was able to do very well, was a fortified area defended by people with rifles.

  That was all I needed to know, and so when Roy drew our collective attention I duly showed as much surprise as everyone else. Well, maybe slightly less, but I made up for it with some good facial expressions and suitable utterances.

  Three of the school buildings were off to our left side. All framed around that central square complete with statues and green areas with the outer electrified fence encircling the whole area.

  The road we were on then ran into that central square, with the last big red brick building on the right. It was all very stately, and clearly very old, but those buildings were also very imposing with thick walls and tall narrow windows.

  But that wasn’t the surprising bit. That came from the incredible array of defences they had in place with a high wall running from building to building forming a perfect defensive line. And better yet was that the wall had a walkway upon the top meaning defenders could look down and out over the attacking forces.

  We then also saw two sandbag sentry points on ground level forming a road checkpoint just inside the electric fence.

  They had the same configuration on the far side of the road leading out of the square, and we could see other sandbag walls constructed at key locations to be used as firing points for a fighting retreat back to the largest main building.

  And of those buildings we observed that anything low and scalable had been removed so the infected couldn’t climb up, and the ground floor windows had been boarded up, but with firing holes left in them.

  Now that was all very interesting, but two other things also stood out. One was that the whole area looked like something from World War Two, and the other were the firing lines of students all wearing what looked like uniformed P.E kit of shorts and polo t-shirts with NATO helmets and body armour on while clutching assault rifles. With adults at the ends also in uniformed sports kit and wearing NATO helmets and body armour and clutching assault rifles.

  Honestly. It was like Hogwarts were going to war with St Trinians.

  ‘Unit! Unit stand fast,’ a female voice then said in a curt clear tone from within. ‘You sirs! State your business,’ she called to us.

  ‘We kill zombies,’ Howie shouted as Paula, Marcy and several others including Henry all groaned.

  ‘Not zombies,’ I said, not that anyone ever listened to me.

  ‘Zombies,’ Howie said again as Henry stepped out from behind his SUV at the same point as Paula waved at the woman inside.

  ‘Hello! I’m Paula!’

  ‘Name, rank and unit please,’ the woman shouted as Henry waved a discreet hand at everyone to stay quiet.

  ‘The name’s Bond. James bond,’ Cookey whispered in a Scottish accent to a few low laughs, Frank included.

  ‘Good morning, ma’am. My name is Major Henry Campbell-Dillington, formerly of the Royal Parachute Regiment, the Special Air Service, and commissioned agent within Her Majesties Security Services.’

  ‘Ding dong, hello sailor,’ Marcy said, fanning her face. ‘Look who’s back to being Mr Hot.’

  ‘Ahem,’ Howie said.

  ‘Shush. I’ve told you, you’re not the jealous type,’ Marcy said. ‘And you seriously need to start introducing yourself like that.’

  ‘Fair enough. Hey! I’m Howie. I worked at Tesco,’ Howie said as Marcy called him a twat.

  ‘I’ve heard of you,’ the woman inside the square said.

  ‘Woohoo. I’m famous,’ Howie said with a wan smile.

  ‘Not you,’ the woman said abruptly. ‘You,’ she added. Pointing at Henry.

  ‘Burn,’ Marcy whispered at Howie.

  ‘Major Dillington. You served with Mikey Chavers,’ the woman said.

  ‘I did not,’ Henry replied immediately. ‘I served under the command of Colonel Sir Mickey Chavers.’

  ‘Cheeky Mickey Chavers?’ Frank called as the woman cocked her head over then burst out laughing.

  ‘Units stand at ease,’ she said, striding out with a grin. ‘Frank? That you?’

  ‘Might be. Depends who’s asking,’ Frank said. ‘Watcha, Tilda. When did you get out of prison?’

  ‘Shut up, Frank! He’s joking,’ the woman called to th
e kids and adults behind her. ‘Open the gate up, Corporal,’ she ordered.

  ‘You heard the Major!’ A spotty teenage boy squawked as a unit of P.E kit wearing pupils in NATO helmets and body armour ran out from behind one of the sandbag checkpoints. Some of them double timing it to the closest generator to kill the feed as more of them removed sandbags before grabbing and pivoting one of the heavy metal fence panels to open the gate.

  ‘You a Major now?’ Frank asked with a smile at the woman marching towards them.

  ‘I am. Where’s my salute, private,’ Tilda said sternly.

  ‘You leave my privates alone,’ Frank said, slapping his forehead with the back of his hand in mimic of a salute while the P.E kit kiddie soldiers all gawped at us after hearing Henry say he was in the Paras and the SAS, which by proxy meant they assumed the rest of us must be.

  ‘Frank. My god it’s good to see you,’ Tilda said, rushing forward to hug him.

  ‘Tilda? Introductions please,’ a man said from behind her. Tall with a domed bald head and bushy brown hair at the sides. He marched over with an assault rifle while dressed in the same weird fashion of school sports kit with a helmet, body armour and combat boots on.

  ‘Mr Leeson, this is Frank McGill. Ex-Para and SAS, and his CO Major Henry Campbell-Dillington, whom I have heard of and can vouch for.’

  ‘Gentlemen,’ Mr Leeson said, coming forward to shake their hands. ‘Gerry Leeson. Headteacher of Christ’s Hospital. What’s the play then, Major? Is it over?’

  ‘Afraid not, Mr Leeson,’ Henry said. ‘What do you know?’

  ‘Virus. Pandemic. Worldwide. Highly contagious. Turns people into those things,’ Mr Leeson said with a nod at the dead bodies.

  ‘That’s confirmed,’ Henry said.

  ‘Damn it. I’d rather hoped it would be gripped,’ Mr Leeson said.

  ‘Afraid not,’ Henry said again.

  ‘Right. Government down then, is it? Yes? Damn. We thought as much. And confirmed on the whole world, is it?’

  ‘Comms are mostly down, but from what we can tell I’d say affirmative,’ Henry replied.

  ‘Right. Well. There we are. Better to know what we’re dealing with,’ Mr Leeson said. ‘So what’s your intent, Major? What’s the to do? You’re welcome to hunker in with us, of course.’