Lord of the Zombies: Apocalypse (Lord of the Zombies Zombilogy Book 1)

by Parker, Des

  It was like training treacle.

  But Nick was a man with a purpose, and his purpose was Simon, so he persisted, and slowly gathered a following. It had taken two hours of solid graft and that was a lot for a man who did sweet fuck-all before breakfast, and fart buggery after that.

  Now he was looking for a payoff so he could have a sleep. He just needed to eat Simon’s face off, bring his friend over to the dark side and all would be well with the world.

  Simon used the momentary distraction to undo his cardigan. It had never been more important to disrobe for a lady and though he had barely ever done this before, the universe smiled in his favour. He managed to free one sleeve and in a blindingly fast movement, swept over to Caroline.

  “Put an arm in my empty sleeve.”

  Caroline realised the implication and without hesitation shoved her right arm into the free sleeve. The movement brought them together as one, surrounded by zombies, but both in physical contact with mohair.

  Nick turned his attention back and howled. “What the fuck!”

  His chief bargaining chip had now been snatched away. He gave up being clever. “Oh fuck it, just chop them to pieces.”

  The zombie army moved forward as one, weapons raised.

  Simon and Caroline spun around, trying to avoid the makeshift weapons closing in, but their awkwardness, wearing the same cardigan, worked against them and they fell to the ground. Simon rolled free of the cardigan as a zombie slipped and fell directly in front of him.

  Simon was on his stomach now, no longer connected to his cardigan, and face to face with a hungry zombie.

  The zombie opened its mouth to bite and a duck exploded through its nose.

  Chapter 14

  Episode Four – A New Hope

  Or not quite as trapped as they thought

  There was a huge roar as the front wall of the sports hall caved in and a massive mechanical shape ploughed into the zombie horde.

  Caroline rolled over and bear hugged Simon. He used the second he had to shove an arm back into the free sleeve of the cardigan.

  Nick screamed and threw himself sideways as a massive, four-wheeled Bushmaster armoured troop carrier careened into the centre of the hall in a hail of dust and debris. It almost reached Simon and Caroline before coming to a noisy halt on top of thirty or so of the un-dead horde. Zombies scattered and, in the confusion, many fled in terror - a new sensation for them.

  Some of the dimmer ones kept closing in on Simon and Caroline who struggled to their feet, trying desperately to keep an arm firmly inside the cardigan.

  The zombies that closed in on them raised their weapons in triumph and, quite suddenly, found their legs vanishing beneath them. Simon could hear the sound of a duck quacking triumphantly as the attacking zombies dropped unexpectedly to the floor, now missing their legs.

  A hatch on the back of the troop carrier slammed open and flattened three zombies.

  A man sprang from the open door and paused briefly to wipe zombie brains off his trousers. The man was wearing a long black coat that flared out around his legs. His legs were strong, encased in tight-fitting designer black trousers, topped off by a tailored black shirt and vest. The only odd thing in his ensemble was the pair of mohair, caveman-style, underpants worn over his trousers; well, that and the bloody great samurai sword in one hand and an equally impressive automatic weapon in the other.

  “Lovely day for it.” He yelled breezily as he started shooting everything that moved and hacking at everything else. He paused for a moment. “Sorry – left the door open. Don’t want anything nasty getting inside.”

  He sheathed his sword in a scabbard over his back and closed the hatch. Just then a zombie jumped on his back and was promptly catapulted twenty feet into the air; the mohair thing was working for the newcomer as well. The newcomer brushed off the back of his jacket and pulled out his sword again.

  “Now, where was I? Oh – that’s right.” He jumped down to the floor and started hacking a path towards Simon and Caroline.

  Nick was lost in the throng of fleeing zombies and yelled defiantly as his followers carried him to safety.

  “This isn’t over. I’ll fucking get you Simon. I promise you.”

  Zombies fled, fell into pieces, or were splattered against every conceivable surface, but mostly each other.

  Occasionally, through the throng of falling bodies, Simon could swear he saw a duck, briefly flying up then slicing downward through the odd zombie. He could also swear the duck was wearing a close-fitting bib of some kind of material that looked very much like mohair.

  Caroline was not watching any of this; she was watching the man with the sword and the gun. Simon noticed her staring and followed her gaze. He was not quite as enamoured.

  “There’s a duck killing zombies over here.”

  “That’s nice.” Caroline said, dreamily, as she watched the new man work.

  Zombies started to close on them as Simon tried to break the spell holding Caroline. “You know, we really can’t just stand here and wait to be rescued.”

  Caroline snapped back to reality. “No, you’re right.” She spun around to face him but as they were both now sharing a cardigan, he kept going in the same circle and she could not catch up. “We need weapons.”

  “Where the hell are we going to get weapons?” Simon squealed as a group of weapon-wielding zombies closed in.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Caroline replied as she looked at the closing zombies.

  Simon genuinely had no idea what she was talking about. Clearly he wasn’t the best leadership material yet.

  Caroline shook her head with annoyance. ‘You really don’t know, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Watch and learn.” Caroline turned to face the nearest zombie and smiled brightly. “Hi. Nice to meet you.” She said as she grabbed its weapon, her fingers closing around the iron bar it was raising. With her free hand, Caroline lightly touched its arm. “We are wearing mohair, you know.” She held the bar tight as the zombie was blasted away, leaving the bar, and its hand, behind. She shook the bar and the hand flew off somewhere.

  “Oh right.” Simon nodded as he shoved his hand against a zombie’s chest, causing it to fly backwards, losing grip on its weapon. Simon emerged triumphantly - with a sink plunger.

  “What the fuck do I do with a sink plunger?”

  A large zombie reared up to his right and Simon did the only thing he could think of; he shoved the plunger hard into its face, obscuring its view. As it reached up with both hands to pull the plunger off its face, Simon caught the lump of wood it had been carrying, swung it low knocking the zombie off its feet.

  Each movement dragged Caroline around with him. “I am getting so sick of this.” She scanned the zombies and spied what she was after. “That’s what I need.”

  Simon was about the drive the wood into another zombie when he almost lost his footing as Caroline dragged him to the right, giving him her iron bar at the same time. “Hold that for a minute.”

  “What?” Simon caught the iron bar and swung it around mindlessly, taking off another zombie’s head.

  “Come on – do your worst!” Caroline confronted a cold hard killing machine zombie who reared up, swinging his weapon back, then thrusting it down towards Caroline’s head with almighty force. Caroline caught the weapon in her hand and snapped it in half.

  It was not every day a zombie attacked you with a fishing rod with a beanie still attached. In a lightning-fast movement, Caroline grabbed the front half of the rod and reefed it clear of the zombie’s grip. The zombie looked confounded as he realised his powerful weapon was not that powerful after all. But his foolishness gave Caroline the most powerful weapon she could ever hope for against zombies. She ripped her beanie off the hook and slammed it back on her head. “Thanks,” she said to the zombie just a second before she patted its cheek, catapulting it across the room, pausing only briefly to stick the broken fishing rod through the eye socket of another zo
mbie.

  Now, in one fluid movement, she spun in close to Simon and pulled herself out of his cardigan sleeve. In the completion of this elegant move, she grabbed her iron bar, spinning past Simon with a smile, and started taking zombies out left and right with alternating sweeps of the bar.

  Simon, dropped his club and caught it with his knees as he ducked to avoid a demonically swinging iron bar.

  With a bit of heaving and puffing, he managed to get back into the cardigan, as zombies catapulted off him.

  He leapt to his feet, ready to do his bit, just in time to see the battle turn in their favour.

  The remaining zombies took flight, discarding their weapons and shuffling urgently away to find a meal less willing to fight.

  Simon felt a touch deflated. He swung his bit of wood around, more for effect than anything else, uselessly lashing out at things that were no longer there. He hoped Caroline hadn’t noticed.

  She hadn’t. Her gaze was somewhere else, trained on the tall man with the big muscles who was just polishing off the last of the standing zombies before sheathing his huge sword, engaging the safety on his huge gun, and adjusting his huge crotch.

  Soon the hall was empty except for piles of the undead, squirming about on the floor, missing most of their limbs or various other bits that may come in handy. At least they were no longer showing any interest in Simon, Caroline, or the exceptionally handsome man who had just saved their lives.

  He strode towards them, looking exceptionally exceptional, except for the brain matter and remnants of zombie guts dribbling off him. He smiled exceptionally and looked towards Caroline, completely ignoring Simon.

  “Nice hat.” he said, with an exceptionally deep and powerful voice.

  “Thanks,” Caroline replied, her eyes lighting up like a woman who has just discovered something embarrassing about her worst enemy that she was definitely going to use.

  Part of her was also contemplating how she could use this newcomer in an entirely different way.

  “I like the way you used your iron,” whispered the tall man in a deep sonorous tone as he straightened his clothes with his powerful hands and adjusted his crotch again.

  “I like the way you use yours.” Caroline found herself flirting involuntarily and liking it.

  “Thanks. I try not to boast – but I have had practice, lots of it.” The newcomer smiled at Caroline, it was one of those smiles with a lot of thought behind it. Thoughts that had nothing to do with the smile and everything to do with something else and everyone just knew it.

  Simon knew it too and was just a little insulted. When he had those same thoughts earlier in the day, he was chastised, his motives questioned. There was no doubt whatsoever, to him, that the newcomer’s motives were exactly the same, but had not received the same reception.

  Then he realised the newcomer had something he didn’t – a gun, a bloody big sword, a tank of sorts, and of course, muscles where Simon only had thoughts that could have been muscles if they’d ever gone to the gym.

  He also knew this was a no-win contest he had already lost before it started. He could see there were advantages in being a brain-dead zombie, one didn’t have to feel.

  A zombie reared up beside him and he took its head off with his piece of wood, without even registering the impact. He had already started to lose his feelings, his emotions would soon follow, and then he would truly be a zombie, without even needing to drool.

  Caroline snapped around. “Are you alright Simon?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” He didn’t even acknowledged what had just happened. He was on automatic now. He reached out to mechanically shake the newcomer’s hand, “I’m Simon.”

  He didn’t really want to greet the newcomer, but he was nothing if not polite.

  The newcomer smiled and shook his hand. “Nice work with your wood.”

  Simon was taken aback for just a second and then a light bulb went off in his head. He knew the man’s face, he recognised the body shape, he had seen it before and Simon realised there might still be a chance for him once Caroline understood who the man was but his reverie was interrupted not so much by what Caroline said but by what she did next.

  “I’m Caroline.” She purred, moving very close to the man, putting her hands on his chest, straightening his jacket and wiping off some of the blood.

  He reached out to take her hand. She quickly wiped it on her clothes with just a hint of embarrassment.

  The man spoke again. To Caroline, it was the voice of liquid lust.

  “Hello, Caroline, I’m -”

  “Dick Meister.” Simon interrupted, seizing his moment.

  “What?” Caroline spat.

  “Dick Meister.” The newcomer acknowledged. “But you can call me Dick.”

  Caroline was confused. “What kind of name is that?”

  Dick smiled as if his name wasn’t an issue. “I’m a -”

  “He’s a porn star.” Simon interjected with what he hoped would close the deal and knock Meisters out of the ballpark. “I’ve seen his films.”

  Caroline snapped eyes on Simon. “He’s a porn star?” She swept her gaze back to Dick. “You’re a porn star?” There was an edge to her voice, not a very good edge.

  “What can I say – I’m a porn star.” His smile was instantly disarming and Caroline was instantly disarmed. “I’m comfortable with who I am.” Dick caught her eyes in his. “And I’m very good at my job.”

  Caroline was feeling something and for once she felt good about that feeling. She couldn’t understand why but this time she ran with it. “Oh – well that’s all right then.”

  Simon was hurt; his ploy backfired and he couldn’t come to terms with the end of his luck with Caroline so he pressed on, not realising it was fruitless. “I thought you didn’t like men who came on too -.”

  Caroline cut him off verbally and metaphorically. “I never said it was a hard and fast rule.” She looked at Dick and there was no mistaking the thought. “We have to deal with whatever comes up.” She smiled just a little too wickedly.

  Simon understood biology and the rules of the jungle to know exactly what she meant and now understood why he was no longer in the game. In the natural world, the biggest and the best always got the girl, especially now that society was collapsing around them. All those rules of civility, rules that gave every man an equal chance, all those rules were crumbling.

  Simon smiled sadly to himself, it was game over; even the cheerleader’s mother had gone home with the jocks, leaving the ball boy alone with his balls.

  Simon knew this was a fight he could never win. Like it or not, they needed Dick and his tank and Caroline no longer needed Simon or his -

  “Dick,” Caroline asked, she just knew he would know what to do, “what do we do now?”

  Dick looked genuinely perplexed but then offered a suggestion. “We could have some fun!”

  In his mind’s eye, Simon saw Dick and Caroline jump inside Dick’s tank and drive off into the sunset.

  “Well not all of us.” Caroline replied, her eyes smiling deeper than her mouth could ever manage.

  In his mind’s eye, Simon saw Dick and Caroline drive back into the hall and park on top of him, then rev the engine and rock the tank back and forth over his scrotum as they launched into an orgy above.

  Simon stopped wallowing and realised this wasn’t the time. There would be time to wallow later, when half dead things stopped trying to eviscerate him.

  “You don’t know what to do, do you?”

  Dick looked up and over at Simon. “Actually, I do. I’ve done it so many times, I am an expert.” He looked back at Caroline and winked.

  Simon was tired of this game. “I mean about our situation.”

  “What’s to do, we’ve cleaned up here? The zombies have run off.”

  Simon turned away, his jaw tightening. “And what if they come back? I mean, I didn’t think they could drive and they drove. I didn’t think they could organize a piss up in a brewery, and t
hey built their own fucking pub. They’re evolving. What if they up the ante and come back with a tank buster?”

  “I’ll be very surprised.” Dick dismissed Simon’s concern.

  “No you won’t – because you’ll be too busy having fun to care. And the rest of us – Oh, sorry, me, will have to fight them off.”

  Caroline cut in, “Now hang on, Simon. Dick saved our lives. We owe him.”

  “Great. Well you can pay for both of us. Don’t forget to leave a tip.”

  “Yeah, here’s one. Get your head out of your arse and stop getting jealous of Dick.”

  Simon was fuming now. “I am not fucking jealous of Dick.”

  Dick shrugged. “Yeah, Dick is not all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes, I would just like to write a book.”

  “I’d read it.” Caroline smiled.

  Dick moved over and put a conciliatory hand on Simon’s shoulder and leaned in close. “There’s no point anyway Simon. We both know there’s no contest.”

  Simon knew it too. “I know – but I’ve got to try.”

  “Good on you mate. And if it’s any consolation, I think you’re probably right. We need to do something.”

  “Any ideas?”

  Dick looked around the hall, half dead half zombies were still twitching, searching for all the bits Dick had cut off. “We could always find more zombies to kill.”

  Simon was tired. All he wanted to do was have a rest. “No, I think we’ve killed enough today. Let’s get out of town.”

  Dick shrugged, put his arms around Simon and Caroline and all three walked back to the troop carrier. “Now that sounds like a good idea.”

  Once they were settled inside, Dick fired up the engine and the giant zombie-killing machine backed slowly out of the hall. A duck landed on the bonnet.

  Caroline was the first to notice. “Oh – what a cute duck and he’s wearing a mohair bib.”

  Dick looked away from the side mirror as he backed over something squishy. “Oh yeah. That’s Mr Percival, he’s my best mate and he’s really handy in a fight.”