“You’re awake,” said a voice. A man’s voice. He recognized it. It was the same voice present when he was cut down from the tree. The voice that had accompanied him here, wherever it was. The voice he had heard from a distance while another, a woman’s voice, had been cleaning his wounds and dabbing some sort of cream that cooled and stung at the same time.
He opened his mouth and spoke. Nothing came out. He had to try harder, so he did, and his voice came out thin and raspy. “I am,” he forced a smile.
The man leaned and sat down beside him. “I thought we were going to lose you.”
“Not yet,” said Abdul, shaking his head.
“Good. I’m Jack.”
“I’m Abdul.”
“I know, you told us on the way back. I told you mine too, but I don't think you heard.”
“I didn’t. I think I was sort of out of it.”
“You were. You want a drink?”
Abdul nodded. He wasn’t sure how it would go down, but he was thirsty. Very. Now he suddenly thought of it, he was the thirstiest he had ever been. “Please, some water, thank you.”
Jack went outside and returned with a cup of water. Jack passed the water to Abdul.
He drank it slowly. The water threading through the valleys of his chapped lips slowly, he closed his eyes. Remember this water, he said. Remember how good these simple things can be.
“You were talking about something else,” said Jack. “The Sergeant. Telling us we have to get back to him.”
Another part of Abdul’s mind opened. His mission. He had failed. Abdul shook his head. “I was meant to get reinforcements, more of the Sergeant’s men.”
“What do you mean reinforcements? Who’s the Sergeant?”
“Allen. Sergeant Allen. There is a holiday park near here, run by a maniac, Dalby, he called himself. They have Allen’s son.”
Jack smiled.
“You don’t believe me? I guess it all sounds a bit a crazy.”
“No, I believe you. I just came from there. Escaped recently. You’re right, Dalby is a fucking nutter. And if someone is looking to take him out, then led us to him.”
Abdul looked at Jack. Who had this man been a few years ago? Maybe an office worker, maybe a tradesman, perhaps he once had a family. What had he lost? Here he was though, the man who had saved his life, and the man who wanted to help destroy the evil in the world. “Bless you, my friend. Bless you.”
Chapter 24
Chris was not a tracker. That didn’t mean he couldn’t keep track of people. You didn’t need to be some red Indian. Fuck that shit. Just follow people, keep your head down and don't walk around like a fucking elephant.
He also wasn’t dead. That was always a bonus. He figured that Jack and that stupid bitch he was with would have come back to finish him off, and they might have managed it; he had been busy with the dead fuckers, but then he shouted out like he’d been eaten alive. Good idea that. Let them think he was killed.
That was my idea.
Fucking shut it, nan.
You’re too rude these days young man. You never used to talk to your old nan like this.
That’s because I was soft as shite, wasn’t I? I’m a First Lieutenant now.
Whatever you say young lad, but I was still wiping your bum not long ago.
Give over.
Chris shook his head and ducked behind a tree. Looked like Jack and the stupid bitch had a nice setup. An old wooden cabin. Electric lights, the hum of a generator. Very cozy. In the middle of nowhere too. Had taken a fucking age to get here.
Chris hunkered down. He would wait for his opportunity.
It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.
Chris jumped awake. The little girl was laughing. He climbed up and peered out of his hiding place. The four of them. Jack, the stupid bitch, the little girl, and Abdul were leaving.
If that little girl hadn’t laughed, you would have missed them
I’m not stupid Nan, I can see that.
They were talking and laughing. Especially the little girl. Chris wondered what would happen to the little girl once Dalby had finished with Jack. He hoped that she would be looked after.
Not such a tough guy all the time then.
Chris followed them at a distance. He heard their conversations at times, snippets caught in the wind as they flew through the trees.
The stupid bitch was called Grace. Abdul used to work on the trains. The little girl was named Annie. They had no love lost for Dalby, that was for sure. They talked about Allen. They were going to find Allen. This was good.
Just keep it tight, Chris lad, keep your fucking eyes peeled and your head clear.
They traveled through the day. Through forests and copses of trees, across open farmer’s fields. The odd group of zombies was found and dispatched. Grace and Jack seemed pretty handy. They had a gun too, but they didn’t use it.
They camped up as darkness fell.
Chris was starving. He ate the rest of a chocolate bar he had. He was exhausted, but he didn’t want to sleep, he didn’t want to miss them leaving in the morning.
So he stayed up all night. Tired, cold, his eyes fighting to close.
Just get some sleep lad.
You don’t get it, Nan, do you? I find out where Allen is and Dalby is gonna fucking love me.
He’s a wrong’un lad. Just like your pals back at the estate. Get you in trouble. You always hang out with the wrong’uns. Always worried about you.
Look, Nan, just pack it in. Leave me to it. I know what I’m doing these days. I’m a fucking man now, not your little boy anymore.
You’ll always be my little boy.
Chris began to cry.
They left at first light, much to Chris’s relief. It was the staying still that got to him the most. Moving was less tiring somehow. His legs ached, but moving was better than sitting, insects crawling over him, the noises of the night amplifying into every monster he’d been scared of as a little boy. When Nan had come in and held him tight until he fell back to sleep.
Fuck that.
Their path stated to climb. Chris heard the sea in the distance.
Eventually, the group stopped. Abdul was holding up his hand. He pointed out to something on the ground, and the others made a show of stepping over what seemed to be an invisible wall about a foot tall.
A tripwire.
Clever bastards.
The group made its way up the tree covered hill, every now and again stepping over another wire. Chris followed as close as he dared, being careful to mind the trip wires.
Eventually, they stopped climbing, and the terrain flattened out. They wound through almost hidden paths in the trees, the green leaves dripping with dew, the birds in full voice. The trees parted ahead to show a clearing at the top of a tall cliff - the bay and Unity below. A tent in the opening, logs set out around an extinguished fire.
“Abdul!” came the shout.
As the group moved into a clearing, more people appeared. Chris recognized one of them - Crowe. That tricky fucker who had been living with Sarah. Others appeared. Suspicious glances were exchanged amongst those unknown, and those known exchanged hugs and smiles.
One big happy fucking family.
Eventually, the main attraction.
Big fucker, big mustache and beard like some fucking fella from the North Pole, or Norway or some shit. In his forties. Dark eyes. Smiling like a prick. He hugged Abdul, looked him over, shook his head, then hugged him again. Like a pair of fucking queers.
This was the headquarters. The fucking base. All of them together.
Think about what you’re doing lad. Just use yer head, would ya?
I am thinking Nan. I know exactly what I’m doing.
Chris turned and scurried down the hill, minding the trip wires, back to the holiday camp, to Dalby.
She was gone.
Dalby stared at the pile of clothes that Ellie had left behind. He had ripped them out of the cupboards and drawers.
Funny how a man can reach his late twenties and have never had a girlfriend. And then when he did finally get one, she was gone at the first sign of trouble. How did she not understand that he couldn’t have a child around? Not in this atmosphere, not at this time of war. He needed a clear head, he needed to be able to focus, to sleep. If he didn't get his sleep, then the whole of Unity was at risk. Who was she to risk so many lives?
He was right. His mind was operating at a level beyond everyone else. He had considerations that never tainted the minds of those below him - everyone else. That was true though, wasn’t it? He now understood what all the Greats had meant when they said it was lonely at the top.
Dalby had always been lonely. It didn’t make any difference.
Ellie didn’t make any difference. He would find another woman. One without a kid. Plenty of them about.
He picked up the bunch of Ellie’s clothes and carried them to the backyard of the chalet. It was a still day. No fires, was the edict. He had decreed it so he could break it. He could burn what the fuck he liked. Zombies liked flames, they liked smoke. They knew what it was, they liked to stare. Stupid fucks. Just one fire though. He was Dalby, he could do what he pleased.
He poured the lighter fluid over the bunch of clothes. He lit it and threw in a match. There was a wumph as the pile caught fire. A sweater miraculously shrunk and turned black. An acrid plume of smoke tumbled into the air. Dalby coughed and took a few steps back.
There was a knock on the door. He went back into the chalet and opened it. Captain Callow was there.
“Did you get her?” said Dalby.
“No, we missed her. She got the kid.”
“What about Terry and Amy?”
“They tried to stop her, but someone helped apparently, shooting in through the window.”
Dalby stood still for a moment, processing this new information. Still someone in Unity, more rebels, scheming together to overthrow what he was building.
“Ok, lock up Terry and Amy. We can’t trust them. How hard is it to contain a woman and a baby?”
Callow nodded.
“Further, I want a full search of Unity. Every man we’ve got. And a new curfew. No-one to leave their chalets until we find her.”
“Sir?”
“You have a problem, Callow?”
“No, sir,” said Callow, quickly standing to clumsy attention.
She couldn’t have left Unity, surely not, not with the baby? Someone must be hiding her.
“That’s all, Callow.”
“Sir. Erm…”
Callow looked nervous. Dalby sighed. What was wrong with his men? Where was the backbone that he needed? “What is it?”
“There’s build up, sir, around the Fence, sir. If we take every man to search for Ellie then-”
“The Fence will hold them. We’ll find her by sundown. Surely that’s not too difficult?”
“No, sir.”
“Good.”
Dalby shut the door behind him and went to the French doors at the back of the chalet. He pulled them close to keep out the smoke. He watched the fire until it was nothing but a smoldering pile of black ash.
“What do we do now?” said Ellie.
Adam was concerned. She was rocking Eddy, but he was still crying. Luckily the heavy rainfall was masking the sound. But it wouldn’t rain forever.
“I don’t know,” he said. The woman looked around the small camp. A lattice of thick beeches hung across two nearby trees, finished with a cover of moss and leaves to keep out the elements. They were huddled together under the organic canopy. It kept out the rain but didn’t keep in the sound. And if the baby didn’t stop crying soon, they would be found.
“What’s wrong with it?” said Adam.
“He, not it,” said Ellie. “And I don’t know what’s wrong with him. If I knew what was wrong with him, I’d stop him crying.”
Adam shrugged. “You think he’s hungry?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try him with some beans?” He held out a tin of beans.
“He doesn’t eat beans.” But she didn’t look so sure.
Adam opened the tin with his Swiss army knife’s attached tin opener. He then took out the spoon implement and shoveled some beans onto the end. He held it out to the child.
“Is that spoon clean?” said Ellie.
Adam ignored her. “Here you go, Eddy. See what you think of this.” He held the spoon tentatively near Eddy’s mouth, and eventually, he opened up and took in the spoonful of beans. A few fell out, but most were swallowed.
“I guess he likes beans,” said Adam.
“I don’t know much about him anymore.” She said quietly. She looked sad. Adam decided not to say anything more about the baby.
“Here,” he passed the beans and his Swiss army knife to Ellie. “You feed him. Wait here, I’ll be back in about half an hour.”
“Where’re you going?”
“I’ve just got to check something. Should be safe here, no one comes here. I’ll be back soon.”
Adam put on his backpack. He didn’t need his Swiss army knife, he had a bigger hunting knife in his backpack. He set off from his base. It was a ten-minute walk through the wood to the nearest part of the Fence. He hadn’t told Ellie, but they needed to get out of here. With the baby, it was too dangerous to stay - the noise, the unpredictability. Needed to find somewhere else to hunker down. Then he could go searching for his Dad. Or wait for the attack. He wasn’t sure which yet.
As he neared the Fence, the trees thinned. Shafts of sunlight. The heavy patter of rain on the leaves lessened. He crouched behind the last line of vegetation.
Something wasn’t right.
Ordinarily, it was silent out here, but not today. A heavy chorus of moans hummed from the other side of the Fence. Adam looked up and down the thin verge of grass that separated the fence and the line of trees. He could see for a hundred yards in both directions, both clear.
He darted out from his hiding place and jumped up the Fence. Although thick, the Fence wasn’t uniform. Plenty of footholds against the thick logs, aluminum plates, plastic boxes, ropes, and other flotsam that made up the ten-foot-high wall.
Reaching the top, Adam casually poked his head over and looked below.
Hundreds of them. At least five or six thick, and stretching for a good eighty yards or so. A mini-swarm. The Fence vibrated and waved gently against the bodies of the dead. Meandering, pushing against each other, like a den of insects. Mindless, soulless, but aware of something beyond the Fence they wanted, aware of life.
Adam quickly pulled back and jumped down. What had happened to the Cleaner crews? Something was very wrong. They needed to go, now.
Adam ran back into the woods, back to his base, as fast as he could.
Allen shuffled up to the fire, a tall tower of branches burning from the top down.
“Where’s the smoke?” said Harriet, sitting opposite.
Allen smiled. “It’s an upside down fire. I’d tell you to google it, but we don’t have that option anymore. Army 101. Many times you need to keep warm without the enemy knowing where you are.”
“I see where Adam gets it all from,” said Harriet. She smiled, creasing her face into shadows, lit long by the early evening and the fire.
“How’s he doing?” said Allen.
“He’s doing fine. He was. He is.” She let out a nervous laugh. “He had so many tricks, survival tricks, ways to keep us alive. We would’ve been lost without him. He never stopped talking about you, you know. He’s never given up hope of finding you. Like it was a certainty.”
“Sometimes you make things a certainty in your head, and they’ve no choice but to become real. That’s what I like to think anyway.”
“Has it worked for you?”
“Yes. So far.” He turned his gaze to the sea and the budding lights of Tulloch Bay holiday park below. Somewhere down there was his son. Scurrying around in the dark. Surviving, just like his old Dad had
taught him to do. Allen was surprised at how sure he was in Adam’s ability to make it. Adam would keep it going until Allen got there.
And then what?
They would deal with that once the time arrived. No use thinking about it now. Time for tactics, not strategy.
Andy and Crowe sat down on another log.
“What’s the plan,” said Crowe. “We still wait for Abdul, for reinforcements?”
Allen nodded. “I think so. We can’t do it on our own. They have the numbers.”
“I don’t know,” said Andy, “I don’t think they are as secure as they like to think.”
“How do you mean?” said Crowe.
“Dalby’s men, I think when he arrived he had about fifty. Only a handful of those were real army though. The rest, just guys with guns. Dalby had a tight reign on them, that’s for sure. But I think the past few months, they’ve got slack. Ok, so he’s increased his numbers. Got more people from the camp involved, but I don’t know. They’re lazy. Seem to like the idea of dressing up and playing soldiers. Lot’s of drinking, messing about on guard. He hasn’t got such a tight hold anymore.”
“Interesting,” said Crowe. “What you think Sarge?”
Allen stared into the fire.
“Why do we have to take out Dalby, anyway?” said Harriet. “Look, I know he’s an arsehole. But couldn’t we just get Adam out, then get out ourselves? Leave them to it down there?”
“We could,” said Allen. “I guess we could take a smaller group, go in, find Adam, get him out. Stealth, as you say, Harriet. But then what? Where do we go? Somewhere safe? Where is somewhere safe? Dalby would keep looking for us, and what happens when we come across the next Dalby?” Allen sighed. “I think we are on the cusp of a new world. One that we need to be prepared for, not just the zeds, but the people. The people will be worse than any zeds. The people will fight and go to war over the smallest of things. Just because you’re there, you’ll be attacked. Demagogues like Dalby are going to be everywhere.” He looked across the faces in front of him. “This is just the beginning. We need to be ready, we need to build a community and an army. We need to take, and hold, Tulloch Bay.”
The Fall Series (Book 3): The Fence Walker Page 34
