They gave me the creeps. I mean I was never great with eyes anyway. Somebody puts a finger near an eye and I’d be shuddering and telling them to stop. The very idea of contact lenses filled me with dread. Thank god I was lucky enough to have not needed them … yet.
I’d definitely have plumped for glasses.
Seeing those eyes, or at least a saliva-clouded version of them close up, sent shivers down my back.
I moved on to next door. I couldn’t see anything through the windows, so I bent down at the front door and slowly pushed open the letterbox. I couldn’t see anything that way either because it had one of those brush-like linings to keep out the draughts but when I pushed my fingers through something hammered into the door, growling, scratching away at the wood, hammering for all its worth.
I understood how postmen felt with a vicious dog snapping and snarling at them now.
I whipped my fingers back out sharpish, scraping the skin against the outside flap and that stopped me doing anything for a minute while I waited for my fingers to stop hurting and for the bleeding to stop.
Bloody letterboxes.
Across the street, the first two houses had dark figures blindly wandering that I could see through the windows, so I didn’t bother looking any closer. No sense riling them up.
The Old Black Horse as the house that used to be The Black Horse pub was cunningly named, was also occupied by undead.
Thank god they were trapped inside.
In fact, now I thought about it, I wondered just how many undead there were trapped inside homes, offices, shops, and the like?
If they had all been free to roam, anybody left alive would have been in major trouble.
The reports about the outbreaks had never been entirely clear about what kind of ‘infection’ it was that caused the worldwide collapse of humanity and civilisation with it.
I assume there just wasn’t time.
My guess? Not being a microbiologist you understand, the pustules suggest to me some kind of mutated or engineered pox type disease. Smallpox, chickenpox, something like that. The pustules worried me. If they were still squirting out pus I guessed they were still infectious, and blood and other liquids might not be the best thing to be inhaling.
None of the staff, other than Jennings had been infected and I assumed that came from the children.
I guess being somewhat separated from the general population might have helped in that respect?
This was, of course, all complete conjecture and in truth, a waste of time because it wasn’t going to change anything about the outbreak.
I did think I’d try to rig up some sort of mask though, just to be on the safe side.
The road through the village swung slightly right just before it exited the houses, and as I walked, I soon understood where all the undead who weren’t trapped indoors, the local ones at least, had gathered.
There weren’t that many in truth, maybe eight or so. It was hard to tell because they milled about so much outside the last but one house in the village, their arms desperately reaching up at the white sheet or towel that was hanging out of one of the upstairs windows.
Also leaning out was a woman by the look of things and although it was unclear exactly what she was saying, she was shouting something to me as I walked along the road.
There was nothing and nobody behind me, so I thought it was a safe assumption she was yelling at me.
The problem was, all that yelling was just getting the Zombies all het up. None of them seemed to be doing anything marginally intelligent like climbing or trying to batter down the door, but the longer she yelled and flew the white flag, the longer they were going to be hanging around I assumed.
I moved forward slowly until I was close enough to see her clearly and by sign language, putting my finger over my lips then two hands face down like I was pushing down on something, persuaded her to stop yelling.
I also mimed her pulling in the sheet too, as I saw that was what it was, having walked a little closer. She obliged with that. This was going well.
Unfortunately, that was when my movement attracted the attention of one of the now undistracted Zombies. I stood stock still as its face roamed in my direction. It was a male, judging by its appearance and clothing, bottom half only, with an angry looking red bite mark on one shoulder.
When it couldn’t make out if I was a human or a tree it began to sniff the air. I was filled with the temptation to sniff myself just in case I was a bit whiffy, which I undoubtedly was, but I resisted.
I glanced up to the window. The woman was standing back, out of sight of the undead. I wanted to sign to her to start making a noise again but I daren’t move, conscious of the observant Zombie. It was looking almost straight at me and was still sniffing the air, rattling what sounded like half a pint of mucus around its nose.
It took two steps forward toward me.
She leaned forward and tapped the baseball bat she had magicked up from somewhere against the wall and yelled.
The Zombie turned back immediately.
“Thank you,” I mouthed. She acknowledged my thanks with a nod.
“I can’t get out,” she said. She seemed young, probably no more than sixteen or seventeen. Her dark hair was up in a ponytail. “There’s more in the back, another four. My neighbours.”
I pulled a face that I hoped said, ‘how did they get around there’
“Barbecue,” she said, “then one of the kids went berserk.”
“Is it just you?” I said, then clapped my hand over my mouth, forgetting I was supposed to be being quiet.
Observant Zombie turned again and started walking toward me.
The girl banged on the wall and again the Zombie turned back to the noise, although it kept looking at me over his shoulder until he ran into the back of one of the other undead.
“Yes, just me. Well, just me and a couple of friends.”
I narrowed my eyes and gave her a ‘tell the truth’ look.
Two more frightened teenage faces appeared at the window. Both girls.
“My parents were away so my friends came around for a party—”
“Pyjama party,” one of the other faces said indignantly.
“Whatever,” the first face said. “That was three days ago, and we’ve heard nothing. Our phones are all dead and then this morning these things were outside and now we can’t get out. Can you kill them with your sword?”
I shook my head “Too many,” I said. Damn I did it again.
Sure enough, he turned to look at me again, then he turned back to the girls, then back at me with a growl. He headed straight for me and this time when the girls yelled, as they all did, he just kept on coming.
OK, one on one and me with a sword I was quietly confident, so I hefted it up as he approached. That got him even more excited.
As soon as he was almost in range I had a bit of a practice swing, then when he was in range, I gave him all I’d got. The blade bounced off his shoulder, reducing its momentum, and dug into his neck.
Bugger.
I yanked it out from where it had dug in. The Zombie’s head lolled over to one side, but it still kept coming, so I stepped to one side to avoid its outstretched arms and swung again.
Bingo.
The blade dug deep, cleanly severing the spine, and the Zombie fell, face first into the ground, still growling. Then it twitched a couple of times and lay still.
Just as I turned around, the third face in the window puked up onto the seven Zombies left below, the slimy beige substance splatting thickly where it hit its unintended targets.
The Zombies lapped it up, metaphorically at least, getting more and more excited every time the girls made a noise. Repeated retching seemed to drive them into a frenzy.
Once she’d finished throwing up, the magnificent seven Zombies started to calm down a bit.
“How about if you draw them away enough so that we can get out, then we can get rid of them between us.” The first face had come u
p with a plan.
“OK, as long as you promise to help me.”
“Of course, we wouldn’t just leave you to face them on your own, would we girls?” Unenthusiastic noises of agreement followed.
Even if only one of them helped we should be able to deal with them I reckoned.
“Right you three get inside out of sight, then as soon as they start moving, come downstairs and hit them from behind. Just don’t take long.”
A couple of the Zombies turned in my direction.
“Have you all got weapons?”
“How will we know?” the first face asked.
I couldn’t quite work out what she was asking.
“How will you know if you have a weapon each?” I asked, attempting some clarification.
Another Zombie turned my way and the first two couldn’t decide which voice to go after and were stuck in a bit of a push-me pull-you situation.
“No, how will we know if they’ve gone if we are all inside?”
Fair point, but then I came up with a masterstroke.
“Watch out of the living room window?”
“Oh, right, good idea. OK, see you in a bit. All three heads disappeared, and the Zombie’s arms which had been raised in the air like rather gross beaks on disgusting chicks, began to lower.
I started making a noise. The two early starters headed toward me. The rest of them turned and started to follow.
I backed up a bit then jumped out my skin when a hand landed on my shoulder.
“Boo,” something said.
Instinctively, I dived away to one side in a blind anti-Zombie panic until it occurred to me that Zombies don’t speak and generally don’t play stupid pranks.
“Yo, bro, how’s it going,” Jezza said.
“Hello. Your … Frank,” Jean said.
“Hello, Brian, Jezza, Jean.” Then I remembered. “Where the hell did you three disappear off to. I thought you’d buggered off and left me.” I looked them all over, they were, all three, splashed with blood and gore. Not a pretty sight at all.
“We went to shut the gates to the estate. We all thought you’d just follow us down there. There were loads of them coming up the hill from the housing estate, but we managed to knock a few off and stop the rest getting in.”
“I didn’t see you.” I was starting to feel slightly foolish.
“We must have got around the bend in the road before you got over the wall. When we got back we could just see you in the distance, so we followed you. Trouble is …” Jezza looked back along the road.
I followed where he looked. Around the corner at the start of the village, first two, then a handful, then finally a bloody great crowd of the undead shuffled around the corner and headed straight down the street toward us.
“Oi.” I heard a young female voice behind me. “You’re supposed to be helping us. Get your mates to help too and let’s get the fuck out of here before that lot arrive.” Face one made a sensible point even if her language was slightly intemperate.
I looked at the others. Jean had tutted at the language but otherwise looked like she was game. Jezza was itching and Brian was already on his way.
It didn’t take long. One flurry of whirling swords, the butt of a shotgun—why waste bullets I assumed was Brian’s thinking—and Jean going hell for leather at one of the buggers with her rolling pin, knocking him down, then spearing him through the eye with cook’s best chopping knife, and the seven of us, beat the seven of them to the ground. Over and out. Done and dusted. Shuffled off to meet their maker and all that.
I won’t lie. It felt good, even though I’d already seen off a couple, getting us out of this particular pickle with the rest of the group felt great.
Face three hurled again, right on top of her opponent. Short of spitting on him, I thought it made a statement.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Face one shouted.
“Where to?” Jezza yelled.
“You’ll see.” The young lady had turned all leader-esque. That was fine by me. I’d already had my time and ended up nearly dragging us into disaster. I was ready for someone else to take the lead.
“Come on,” I yelled, and ran after the girls who were already well ahead.
“Wait for us,” I heard from behind, then the sound of boots clomping heavily behind me.
I know I’m not fit or anything but when Jean sprinted past me like Usain Bolt on speed, it just brought it home to me that I really should do something about it.
When everybody stopped at a farm gate just outside the village. I flicked open a pack of cigarettes and lit one up, tossing the pack back into my backpack.
“Why have we stopped,” I managed to get out between rasping breaths.
Face one said, “To let you croak it by the looks of you.”
I laughed, mainly because that was how I felt. Then I looked back down the road and stopped. The ugly crowd were still advancing.
It was already clear that although the undead were slow, they didn’t appear to get out breath, so they just kept on coming. Old Aesop got it right with the hare and the tortoise after all.
“Look,” I said pointing their way and wheezing. “We have a couple of minutes before they are on us. What are we doing?” I asked and took another drag on my cigarette. I offered it round. Only one of the girls and Jean took a drag.
“Just to be sociable, you understand,” Jean said when I looked askance at her.
“I’ll be back in minute,” Face one said. She disappeared through the farm gate, not asking for any assistance, which would have gladly been given.
Thirty seconds later she pulled a bloody great big horsebox thing down the farm drive and expertly drove it out onto the road.
She leaned out of the driver’s side window and yelled.
“Come on, everyone pile in.”
Everyone did.
The first ten feet behind the cab was set up like a mini caravan, with beds up suspended below the roof and a seating area below. It even had a tiny kitchen, all powered by bottled gas. It stank to high heaven of horses, but it was big enough to take all seven of us in moderate comfort.
Once everyone got settled in. The four of us from the house in the back, and the three girls in the front, Face one hit the accelerator, and the horsebox slowly trundled away from the crowd of Zombies who had just reached the back of the horsebox before we pulled away.
“Are introductions in order?” I shouted above the sound of what must have been a sizeable diesel engine. “I’m Frank.” The two non-drivers turned around while the young lady who was driving used the otherwise useless rear-view mirror to keep up.
“I’m Jezza,” my erstwhile brother said, raising a titter from the girls.
“I’m Jean.”
All three girls said, “Hi, Jean,” at the same time.
“I’m Brian.” He had commandeered an area of the one sofa and lounged there with his eyes shut.
“I’m Penny,” the driver yelled as she shifted gear into what might have been second.
“I’m Kate. Katie most people call me.” Face two said.
“I’m Jules. Julie really but I hate that, so Jules.” Face three, she of the sensitive stomach, offered a friendly smile all round.
“Lovely to meet you all. Penny, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you old enough to drive this thing?”
“Well, Frank, don’t you talk posh.” I glanced briefly at Jezza who raised his eyebrows and shrugged. It meant that he told me so and he was right. Penny was watching me in the rear-view. “Officially, no, I should be twenty-five to drive it, but I don’t think anyone is going to be too bothered really, do you?”
“And how old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Does it matter, Frank? I’ve driven this old crate enough times to know what I’m doing and more to the point, I’m keeping you and your friends off the street and safe.”
I thought about it for a moment, and I came to the same conclusion she did. Right then, i
n the middle of all the insanity going on around the world, even in our little part of the world, all that mattered was that we survive.
“I agree, Penny. It really doesn’t matter.” I offered her a smile and I could see her pull a face in the mirror just for a moment. What is it about my smile that seems to be so repugnant to women? I’d ask Jezza, but he’d come up with some bland, meaningless generalisations.
Maybe I’ll ask Brian. He’d probably be straight with me.
“What’s the plan then, Penny?”
“What plan?”
“Do you have a plan about where you want to go?”
“I want to go home,” Katie said. “I just want to check. I mean I know the chances aren’t great, but I need to see for myself. I have my parents and three brothers at home, maybe one or more have survived.”
“Where do you live?” Jezza asked.
“Newbury. Well, close by anyway. Just outside.”
A groan went up from the four of us in the back of the horsebox.
“What?” Katie asked.
“If you imagine how many problems we’ve had with the undead just in our little area, imagine what it’s going to be like in Newbury.” Jezza said.
“There were only a handful,” Penny added unhelpfully. She had the horsebox trundling along at a steady pace. Not fast enough to get anywhere quickly, not so slow that the weight of it wouldn’t mean it ploughed straight through any wandering Zombies, of which thankfully, for now at least, there were none.
“Penny, can you pull over?” I said.
“Why?”
“Because this is going to be an important decision and we all need to make it together.”
Penny muttered something up front but gently pulled the horsebox to a stop. Looking out of the windows carefully, seeing nothing of any interest, I suggested we all take ten minutes and discuss things outside.
For some reason, Penny looked very suspicious at that prospect.
“Why do we need to go outside? How do we know you won’t just leave us on the side of the road?”
Jean piped up. “She has a point Your …Frank. We don’t know them. They don’t know us. Why don’t we talk in here?”
The One Percent (Episode 1): The One Percent Page 4
