by John Moralee
“Nailed it,” Pipa said. “You got brains all over you, Mr Boss-man. So much for your survival skills. You’d be dead if I hadn’t killed that zombie. It was going to eat you until I spiked it. Now you owe me your life. We’re even.”
I would have thanked her if she hadn’t been so obnoxious. I stood up, wiping my face of whatever gunk had sprayed me. For once, I was glad it was too dark to see.
“You okay, mate?” Kim asked.
“Didn’t bite me,” I said.
With her confidence boosted, Pipa took the lead, while I recovered my wits. We got to the tool aisle without another zombie attack. Other people must have been there before us and nabbed the best stuff – but we found some spades and forks at the back of a display. They were better weapons than what we had – so we returned to the entrance carrying our new tools. (Pipa kept her spike as a backup weapon.) I had a second spade in my hands to give to Leela. I expected to see her waiting outside.
But she wasn’t there.
ENTRY TWENTY-FIVE
We looked around frantically – but Leela had vanished in the five minutes we had been inside the garden centre. Kim and Pipa checked around the sides of the building while I crossed the street to look into the Waitrose. The supermarket had been completely emptied of everything. I could see no places for anyone to hide – so I knew she wasn’t there. I walked back to the middle of the street and looked in every direction. Where was she? Kim returned with Pipa. She was shaking her head.
“We can’t find her, mate. She’s gone.”
I sighed. “Do you think she’d leave voluntarily?”
“No,” Kim said. “She wouldn’t leave us.”
I didn’t think that either – but Pipa shrugged. “Listen, I’ve been thinking. Maybe Leela got scared waiting outside when we were in the garden centre? She could’ve run away if she heard that zombie attacking us.”
“With her foot injury?” I said. “I doubt it.”
“You got a better explanation, Columbo?”
“No,” I admitted. “But if she did run away, she must be somewhere nearby. We can’t leave her here. We have to look for her.”
Kim nodded in agreement – but Pipa glared. “That’s crazy. If she doesn’t want to be found, we won’t find her. This town has loads of hiding places. I say we just continue without her. She’ll come back if she wants to be with us. She’s a grown woman. We don’t have to look after her like she’s a little kid.”
That made me think of Hayley, making me angry. “Leela’s a scared seventeen-year-old who’s just lost her grandfather. We can’t abandon her.”
“Abandon her? She abandoned us!”
“We don’t know that,” Kim said. “Something might’ve happened to her. We don’t know this town. We think it’s deserted of living humans – but what it if isn’t? What if someone took her?”
“Who?” Pipa said.
“Me,” said a man.
ENTRY TWENTY-SIX
Just like that scene in every spaghetti western, a stranger stood in the middle of the street with a couple of guns in his belt. He was dressed in combat fatigues like a soldier and appeared to be alone. He was a man in his fifties with short black hair streaked with grey, a deeply tanned face, hard eyes and a patchwork of old scars on his thick neck. He was smiling at me like he found something funny in our Mexican standoff.
The smile was creepy.
I estimated he was a hundred feet away. He was wearing a bulletproof vest so only a head shot would kill him. I’d shot zombies in the head at a greater distance, but my hand was shaky when I pointed my gun at him because I was weakened after being tortured. I doubted I’d hit him if he had been standing ten feet away. “Don’t move! Who the hell are you and what have you done with Leela?”
“Easy now,” he said. “Don’t get yourself killed pointing that little pea-shooter at me. My friend on the roof over there will have to take you down if you don’t drop the gun and kick it towards me. She’s a very good aim – so just do as I say and nobody gets hurt.”
Was he bluffing? I turned my head and looked at the roof of the Waitrose store, where the long barrel of a very nasty rifle pointed at me. The red dot of a laser danced over my face. No – he wasn’t bluffing. I wondered if I could move fast enough to take out the sniper and run for cover back in the garden centre before the man pulled his two guns. In my dreams, maybe. Not in reality.
“Put the gun down,” Kim muttered under her breath, as though she had read my mind. I’d nearly forgotten she was behind me. “They could shoot us all if you don’t, Ben.”
Pipa glared at me. She spoke through her teeth like an angry ventriloquist. “Don’t get us killed, Ben.”
Kim and Pipa were only armed with garden tools. We couldn’t shoot out way out of the situation like Clint Eastwood. I listened to their advice and dropped the gun. I kicked it towards the stranger.
“That’s better. You made the right decision, Ben.”
He knew my name so Leela must have told him it. Had he hurt her to make her talk? The man had us defeated – but he hadn’t shot anyone so I hoped that was a good sign. He walked up to my gun and picked it up to examine it. “Got some bullets left, huh? Mine are empty. Haven’t had any ammo in weeks – but you don’t need ammo if your enemy doesn’t know it.” Chuckling, he tucked my gun into his belt. “Think I’ll keep this for now. You can all keep the garden tools, though. There are still a few zombies in this town need bashing.” He walked over to me, offering his hand to shake. “I’m Dex. I heard you and your friends had a hell of a night?”
“That’s right.” I was still wary. “What do you want, Dex?”
“Ben, I don’t want anything,” he said. “It’s what you want - that is the question. I’ve been watching you since you showed up here. I grabbed your friend to find out why you were here. Your friend told me you just escaped from the Pure Bloods and a biker gang. I wouldn’t have believed her story if I hadn’t heard all the shooting last night. Sounded like Bonfire Night.” He looked at Kim and Pipa. “You must be Kim and Pipa. Leela told me you were all kept as prisoners. I’m glad those bikers are all dead. They’ve been a problem for a while. Killed some friends of mine.”
“Where’s our friend Leela?” Kim asked.
“Leela’s having her injuries treated. She’s been well looked after - so don’t worry about her. I’ve done nothing to her except ask her some questions.”
“Can we see her?” I said.
“Sure,” Dex said. “I only took her because I needed to know why you were here before introducing myself. I had to be sure you weren’t a bunch of Pure Bloods hunting for me.”
“Hunting for you? Why? What did you do to them?”
“I’ll tell you later,” he said. “We need to get off the street now. There’s a Pure Blood helicopter coming this way in about ten minutes. They’ll spot us if we stay outside.”
“How do you know that?”
“Hacked their radio frequency,” he said. “No time to talk. Come with me and I’ll take you to your friend.”
Dex turned his back and headed towards the town centre where I knew there was a market square with some zombies. We followed him. Ahead there were few zombies crawling and lumbering around the square. Most were harmless – but a couple perked up at the sight of us. They snarled and staggered towards us like drunks at a wedding.
“Stay behind me,” Dex said, pulling a meat cleaver from somewhere inside his uniform. The blade gleamed in the sunlight. He dashed ahead, decapitating the zombies in our way with swift, expert swings of his cleaver. He reached the far side of the square and beckoned us to follow him through the door of a nail salon with boarded-up windows. Dex was greeted by a younger man armed with a mediaeval double-edged sword probably nicked from a museum. The younger man was slouching his shoulders until he saw Kim and Pipa. He straightened his posture when they entered the nail salon.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Kris. Nice to meet you, ladies. If there’s anything I can do for you, just
ask. It’d be my pleasure.”
After the ordeal Kim and Pipa had been through as prisoners of the bikers, neither welcomed his unwanted flirting. They returned his greeting with frosty glares, tightening their hands on their weapons. Kris looked confused. He looked the sort of handsome rogue who expected girls to automatically fancy him. He was ogling Pipa because she was hardly wearing anything after her escape. She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him like she wanted to stab out his eyes.
“Keep your eyes on the zombies,” Dex said to Kris. “I’m taking our guests to meet the others. Stay alert. A helicopter’s in the area.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dex led the way through the nail salon up some narrow stairs and along a cold, dark passage into an empty flat probably once lived in by the salon owner. We passed through a pink living room to the girlie bedroom where there was a large heart-shaped wardrobe. Dex opened the wardrobe. It was filled with moth-eaten coats and dresses.
“We going to Narnia?” I said.
Dex grinned. He pushed the clothes aside and lifted a wooden panel, revealing a big hole through into the next building, which I’d seen from outside was the flat above a burnt-out kebab shop. Dex climbed through and waited for us to join him before putting the panel back in place.
We were in a small dirty bathroom.
“This is one of our secret hideouts,” Dex said. “We burnt down the stairs in this building so you can only get here via the salon’s entrance. Got the idea for a secret entrance from The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. It’s a useful hiding pace from the Pure Bloods. They sometimes search this town, looking in the buildings for survivors. We don’t want them finding us here – so we hide in places like this.”
The next room was crowded with two dozen people – men, women and children. Some men and women were in uniforms. More were in civilian clothes. The room smelled of sweaty bodies. The group greeted Dex with nods and smiles – but they looked warily at me and my companions. We were new and not to be trusted. There were people sitting on several sofas and others lying on sleeping bags squeezed into the tight space. Leela was lying on a sofa wearing jeans and a shirt instead of her well-worn sari. Her feet were bandaged. Kim went to her and hugged her. “You okay, Lee?”
“Yeah,” Leela said. “I was scared when they suddenly kidnapped me – but they’ve been really nice to me. They’re good people, Kim. Not like the bikers.”
Dex approached a scrawny man in an army uniform listening to a military radio. They spoke for a minute – then Dex walked over to us. “You all look like you’ve been in a war. We’ve got a doc and a nurse – so just get yourselves checked over. Then when you’re done the kitchen’s down the hall. Sit down at the table and get yourselves something to eat. We’ve got hot soup and fresh bread for everyone.”
“Thanks,” I said. I was still wary of their unexpected generosity – but I was too tired, hurt and hungry to say no. I had my injuries treated by a kind-faced elderly woman who reminded me a little of my grandmother. Her name was Edith. She treated my cuts and bruises and gave me some antibiotics for an infection I didn’t know I had. When she was done, I thanked her and wandered down a hall into the kitchen, where I was joined by Kim and Pipa. Like Leela, they had been provided new clean clothes. Kim was dressed in a black polo-necked jumper and black skinny jeans. She looked like a French resistance fighter. Pipa was wearing a khaki army uniform and army boots.
“Where’s Leela?” I asked.
Kim answered. “She’s staying in the living room resting her feet, mate. She’s already had some food, she says.”
“That’s good.”
There were another ten people in the kitchen eating, washing dishes and making soup just like a big family. Dex was there. He introduced us to them. A fat Scottish man was cooking a meaty soup on a camping stove using butane to heat a large steaming pot. He was appropriately named Stu. The delicious aroma of meat and vegetables made me want to weep. Stu served us all bowls of hot broth with hot crusty bread that tasted like heaven. I was amazed they had fresh bread. I had no idea how they had made it. All I knew about bread was it was bought from supermarkets. I would not have had a clue how to make it without electricity and a YouTube video showing me what to do with the ingredients. The bread was the finest food I had eaten since Day One.
“Who are you people?” I asked Dex once I had finished eating.
“We just call ourselves The Family.”
I thought of Charles Manson. “Sounds like a sinister cult.”
“Yeah, I know. We thought about calling ourselves The Rebels or The Alliance or something like that – but we’re not fighting a war and we’re not in a Star Wars movie. We’re just a group of survivors wanting to stay alive. Honestly, we didn’t spend a long time picking the name. The Family won by a democratic vote. We’re were almost called The Jedi because we’ve got a lot of nerds with us. They knew how to survive better than most from watching so many zombie movies. The Family won by two votes.”
“How many of you are there?”
“There’s over forty of us here. There are more smaller groups of us in other places. We don’t like to be in too large a group because we’d get noticed by the Pure Bloods.”
“I saw one of their radios, right? How’d you get it?”
“It was mine when I was with them,” he said. Dex pulled down his sleeve and showed me his bare arm. It was scarred with human teeth marks. Old bites. From zombies. “I was with the Pure Blood for a while. I was a patrol captain. Before that I was in the real British army. I was a colonel. My men were stationed outside London when the nuke went off. Back then the official government policy was to shoot anyone bitten. I followed my orders – until the day I was bitten. I wanted to wait to see if I would turn before killing myself – but my men were so frightened they tried to kill me before I turned. I didn’t let them. I shot one of them and escaped before the rest shot me. When I didn’t turn, I couldn’t go back to the army because of what I’d done. I survived on my own for a month. By then the whole country was fighting each other. When the Pure Bloods formed their militia, I volunteered to join up because they wanted guys like me, the immune.”
“How long were you with them?”
“Longer than I should have been,” Dex said. “At the time I thought they had solution to the problem because they were fearlessly attacking the zombies and protecting innocent civilians. I wanted to do that, to be a soldier again, defending our country. I didn’t know the Pure Blood leaders planned to kill everyone who wasn’t immune. I only found out that was going on after a few months, when I saw a patrol shooting innocent non-infected people. It made me sick being one of them. One day I saw an opportunity to escape with some soldiers loyal to me – so we stole some guns and supplies and fled. They came after us hard – but they didn’t get us all. I’ve been living off their radar since then – trying to building up a network of small groups of survivors - but it’s not been easy. They always have people out looking for me. There’s even a reward for any Pure Blood who catches or kills me.”
“What’s the reward?”
“They get taken off dangerous zombie-hunting patrols and assigned a cushy job at their HQ in Oxford. That’s a hell of a reward. Just about anyone would want it because patrolling isn’t exactly fun. Pure Bloods might be immune to the virus – but it still hurts when a zombie snacks on you.”
“Why’s finding you so important to the Pure Bloods?”
“Their leadership can’t let anyone quit their army. Especially not someone like me – an early member with my own loyal soldiers. That would give others the idea they can quit too. They’d love to catch us to make an example of me. You know what they do to traitors?”
“I’ve heard rumours,” I said. “I imagine it’s bad?”
“Bad isn’t the right word. It’s pure evil. They hang traitors over a pit of zombies so the zombies can chew on their feet. Then they lower them down into the pit very slowly. The zombies eat their way up their bo
dies like hungry piranhas – but the victims don’t die quickly. First they lose their flesh to their bones. Then they die screaming. New recruits are forced to watch the traitors being eaten alive just so everyone is afraid of betraying their orders. It’s an effective lesson, believe me. Hitler would have been proud. Oxford is like a death camp.”
“You were in Oxford for long?”
“Yeah – for some time. Why?”
“Two of my friends were taken there. Neal and Angela. What do you think will have happened to them?”
“Captured civilians are locked up in steel cages. Most are immediately injected with infected blood. They’re kept as prisoners for two weeks. The ones who turn into zombies are put in the pit. The others are sent to a training camp, where they are psychologically broken down and converted into loyal soldiers of the Pure Blood Army.”
“What if they refuse to join?”
“They get the pit.”
“Wait a sec. You said ‘most’ are immediately injected, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Does that mean some people aren’t?”
“Yeah. A small number of exceptionally useful people don’t get injected with the virus.”
“Why?”
“Practical reasons. The PBA don’t risk infecting people with unique skills, like scientists and doctors. They keep them as slaves. For everyone else, it’s welcome to the cages. 95 out of a 100 people injected die within one day. Two more usually die within a week. Another within two weeks. That means just two people survive out of every hundred. It’s barbaric. You have better odds of survival playing Russian roulette.”
“My friends were taken a few days ago. Is it possible they are still alive?”
“Do they have unique skills?”
“Angela’s great with a crossbow. Neal’s a brave man.”
“Those aren’t skills the PBA respect. Sorry. I’m afraid your friends will already be dead. If they are lucky. If not, they’re zombies in the pit.”
