“What are they Following?” She asked. I told her that they Followed The Disciple.
“Whose Disciple is he?” She asked next. Apocalypse Girl asked her if she remembered Biker. The Colonel nodded, then realisation dawned. “You mean...this guy is The Abbott's Disciple? That's fucked up.” We kept on walking in silence.
noon
Shortly after we had eaten our lunch in the shelter of an abandoned cafe that had been closed the day the world ended, we heard the engine of a car. Very faintly, in the distance, to be sure, and only for a few seconds, but definitely it was a car engine. As we were about to leave the cafe, however, our road became far less clear. Shambling into view was a group of maybe fifty Dead, possibly more. They hadn't noticed us yet, so we swiftly jumped over the counter and hid, hardly daring to breathe.
Apocalypse Girl, thinking quickly as ever, silently dragged us further back into the dark depths of the cafe's kitchen. Redbeard was able to quietly close and barricade the door with a nearby fridge. A small round window in the top of the door allowed us to see the progression of the Dead as they marched past like some kind of rotting corpse pride parade. There seemed far more of them than there should be.
Silence reigned in the kitchen for what felt like eternity. The Dead out front seemed to have just stopped, and most were simply standing around. A few had moved dangerously near the entrance to the cafe, however, and when one brushed up against the door we all practically shat ourselves as the bell gave a little tinkle.
Sister investigated another door, heavily bolted, that led from the kitchen as we all breathed a heavy sigh of relief that the Dead hadn't been attracted by the sound of the bell. She carefully unbolted it, opening it a crack. Beckoning me over, she pointed to the door. There was a staircase leading upwards into darkness. I turned to confer with my companions, only to hear the damn bell jingle once more, this time violently as another Dead bashed against it. Then it rang out again as we heard the accompanying music of shattering glass. The Dead had finally noticed us. Left with no time to make a rational decision about anything at all, we bolted up the stairs, Redbeard bringing in a chair from the kitchen to lean up against the knob in an almost certainly vain attempt to slow down the Dead that by now were bashing against the barricaded kitchen door.
evening
There was, thankfully, another door at the top of the stairs, this one only lockable from the inside. We rushed through it, Redbeard locking it up as tight as it possibly could be. I looked around for something with which to shore up the door with, finally realising that this must have been the home of whoever owned the cafe below. The Colonel was already on top of it, however, trying to move a huge table over to the door by herself. Redbeard and I jumped to her aid, tipping the table over and wedging it firmly against the door.
I looked out a window, to see a balcony that had once been home to various potted plants. Looking around the flat, I noticed a door leading out to it from the other room and made for it. Outside I saw across the road that several residents of that particular block of flats had decided to hang themselves from their balconies. I warned everybody inside to watch out for Dangling Dead ones while we start balcony hopping. We were unable, obviously, to make it to any of the balconies on the building across the road, but the one we currently occupied had plenty within relatively easy reach.
Three floors up and several balconies over, we decided that, since this flat was bare of Dead, had beds enough for everyone, and the hallway outside leading to the stairs up had been blocked with rubble that if we stayed quiet, and of course the fact that we were all completely fucking knackered, we should rest here overnight, and pray that the Dead had moved on by morning.
March 16, Year 1 A.Z.
morning
They had not only not moved, but more had joined them, many many more. It was almost as if the Dead knew exactly where we were, and that there was no practical way for them to get to us. So they just stood around, packing the streets on all sides. We had discovered a few Dead in some of the flats in this particular block, but most of the residents had either been away at the beginning of all of this, or else they had barricaded and fled some time later.
The entire top floor was at the very least safe. For now. Redbeard and I had gone through every single flat opening every cupboard and closet, searching for, well, anything really. Anything we could use, any food, hell even a stray survivor. We found nothing of any real use. The former home of what could only possibly be classed as a 'crazy cat lady' contained over a dozen decomposing cat carcasses. The poor little fuckers had starved to death.
noon
Sister found out that, of all things, the water and gas systems in one particular flat still operated. She had tried all of the others, she said, but only this one seemed to work. Apocalypse Girl had discovered two suitcases full of clothing, covered with dried blood, in a flat that Redbeard and I had cleared of the trio of Dead within. The only thing sweeter than a hot meal was the opportunity to share a hot shower with Apocalypse Girl, then get dressed in some clean clothes.
The Colonel had found herself an easy way to the roof from one particular balcony, which conveniently had several cupboards of varying sizes stacked side by side to create a makeshift stairway. This was clearly how the previous occupants had made their getaway. She scouted the roof and returned with the news that we could indeed make good our escape from this particular building to the roof of another. That building on the other hand, looked as if it only opened up onto the street most densely packed with Dead.
Firecracker had taken our old rags and deposited them in a corner of one flat, showing me where they were when I asked. She wanted to know why I wanted anything with them now, after all she had almost thrown them out the window to the Dead. That gave me the beginnings of an idea. I closed in on the pile and nearly gagged on the stench. It had been a while since our last change, but I hadn't had any idea they had been quite that nasty. I told her not to throw them to the Dead unless I say so, and she nodded.
evening
I told everybody my plan over dinner. The Colonel nodded her approval, Redbeard swatting me on one shoulder. Firecracker was doubtful of success, but considering the hundreds of corpses wandering around in the streets that wanted nothing more than to eat us, she was willing to go along with anything. Sister's only response was to shrug and say “What the hell, might as well!” Apocalypse Girl only smiled slightly, telling me that she trusted my decision.
I went up to the roof after nightfall and stood, staring up at the clouds high above. They had temporarily ceased their movement, and simply hung there ominously. Were it not for the torch I had brought with me I would have had no light to see my way back down with, as apart from the clouds that seemed almost to glow with their own inner darkness, it was impossible to see your hand in front of your face after sundown.
March 17 Year 1 A.Z.
morning
We breakfasted, then it was time to begin. Thinking that the rags themselves would not be quite enough, The Colonel took out her knife and sliced the palm of her hand open in order to bleed profusely into the pile of filth. As Apocalypse Girl bandaged her wound, Firecracker tossed the entire blood-soaked mess off the roof and into the horde of Dead waiting below. As I had suspected, the smell of prey coupled with fresh blood drove them berserk. We rushed for the far edge of the roof, where a fallen billboard mostly bridged the gap between buildings.
As our immediate goal was escape, we didn't bother checking any of the residences in this block of flats, instead simply rushing down the blood-spattered stairs in an effort to make it to the way out and hopefully not be too surrounded by Dead when we made our exit.
We rushed out into the street to see the Dead moving onwards, in the direction that their rotting companions were creating a ruckus over some rags. Those nearest us noticed our presence, but were swiftly and silently dispatched by my blade, then we moved onwards to the east.
noon
No sooner had we sat down on
a pair of old, abandoned cars to eat lunch we noticed that we were being followed. Apparently my trick worked only so well, and the Dead had cottoned onto the idea pretty quickly. It looked as if the entire horde that had surrounded our temporary home had come along, too. Apocalypse Girl swore loudly, exclaiming that she was fucking sick of being followed by fucking corpses everywhere she went. Have to be honest, she is not alone.
Having plenty of time before they got anywhere near us, Redbeard and I pushed the lighter car alongside the other one, in order to funnel the Dead when they finally arrived at this point, just to slow them down a little. Hopefully. Then the six of us ran, as the horde of shambling Dead came a little too close for comfort.
A hundred metres or so up the road, I turned around to see that the Dead had indeed gotten themselves tangled up amongst the vehicles. Quite a few had already made it past the obstacle, but it seemed a worthwhile tactic provided we can continue keeping ahead of the Dead. After all, they don't have any need for sleep.
evening
We had tried the barricade of vehicles trick several more times on the road, as and when the opportunity arose, which worked well for detaining the horde of Dead behind us, but more kept coming out from sidestreets and alleys in dribs and drabs, never more than about five or six at a time, easily dealt with at first, but they wore you down. However, as sunset, what little sun there was, approached we needed to find somewhere secure for the night, or we were completely fucked.
Firecracker peeled off down an alleyway, insisting that we should follow her. We did so, an exhausted Redbeard and I bringing up the rear, as Dead were already coming at us from in front and behind along the road. Sister, being the fleetest of foot, had already outdistanced Firecracker by the time we rounded the corner to be blinded by the spotlights that turned on us.
We were told to stay still, no matter what, the order loud through a megaphone. Then the gunfire opened up. Miraculously, none of us were harmed at all. The demand came for our leader to step forward. We glanced around at one another, having never formally decided on a leader. Eventually I stepped forward to be greeted by an incredibly tall blonde man with a very bushy beard. The dude looked like nothing so much as a fucking Viking. I shook his hand, thanking him for the assistance, then asked him where we might find The Mech-Techs. Viking's laughter boomed through the night.
March 18 Year 1 A.Z.
pre-dawn
Viking turned out to be the leader of The Mech-Techs, as it happened. He loaded us up into his vehicles, three for each of the two he had come scouting with. I travelled with Apocalypse Girl and Sister in Viking's vehicle. It had once been a Landrover, and now sported all sorts of shiny pointy metal accessories that looked just right for dealing with driving through masses of Dead. When we got back to their main base, a huge warehouse on the eastern end of the city, they took us into a large, well furnished room to rest for what remained of the night.
In the morning, Viking showed me around, boldly boasting of the deeds of his grand clan, The Mech-Techs. They had survived, even thrived, since the rise of the Dead. The Norse-god-made-flesh bragged how they now numbered one hundred and fifty, occupied this warehouse, the ones on either side of it, and several other buildings nearby. He showed us the workshops, where many of his more mechanically minded minions made modifications on motorcars.
He asked me flat out what I planned to do with “my” women. I looked him in the eye saying that they are not my women, they are my friends. Booming with laughter, he clapped me on the shoulder, telling me when he had spare breath that he was just testing me. Too many of The Followers had tried to infiltrate his organisation lately, apparently. He went on to say that the two groups weren't exactly at war, but Viking clearly didn't like them much and his feelings were returned by The Disciple.
I asked him about the thief that they had nailed to the billboard, after tearing him limb from limb. Viking laughed again, saying that he didn't like thieves much, so they had dismembered a Dead one and nailed it up there. It made little difference, the effect had been the same. However, he told me in a deadly, soft tone, he would do the same or worse to anybody that actually did try to steal from him and his group. I believe he would, too.
noon
These Mech-Techs are certainly good hosts, they had fed us, and several of them sat with our group, laughing and joking with them. Though friendly, they still had the feel of guards, and when I asked Viking of this, he nodded, smiling. Then he asked what I would do in his position. I admitted that he had a point, we were a complete unknown to him and his, and thanked him for being as generous as he was.
Viking took me aside, into a former office of the warehouse that he had converted into his personal living quarters. We sat down opposite one another over a small table, and he reached under the table pulling out two beers, handing one to me. I drained the cold frosty brew almost instantly, and he gave me another. This one, however, I went a little easier on.
“What do you want from me?” Viking asked, after a moment of silence. Thinking that the best tactic would be to be as direct with him as he was with me, I simply told him that we needed a vehicle to get to Canberra in. “What's in Canberra?” He asked. I shrugged, saying that The Colonel wanted to see if there was any kind of government or military infrastructure left. He sat, thinking quietly for a moment, then shouted a mighty “OY!” One of him minions immediately opened the door. Viking asked the young lad to ask The Colonel to join us, please.
The Colonel strolled in barely a minute later, and Viking handed her a beer, also. She chugged it down gratefully and he asked her how much experience she had with military vehicles. Shrugging, she said a reasonable amount. She couldn't fly anything, she told him, but any ground vehicle she knew fairly well. Viking smiled.
“You can have absolutely any vehicle we have here.” Viking told us both, handing the two of us another beer each. I was already beginning to feel a little tipsy but accepted anyway, as it seemed a deal-sealing beer. “You, and your Colonel here, are going to get me a tank!” Beer sprayed from The Colonel's mouth.
evening
Viking invited our entire group to dine with him, and over our meal we discussed the details surrounding his request for a tank. Driving one was a little difficult to get used to, The Colonel told us, but she knew how to well enough, and would happily teach people once we acquired it for them. Just how exactly we were meant to accomplish that particular task was a little beyond her at present.
A Mech-Tech scout that was joining us also told us that there was a deserted army barracks nearby, only a couple of handfuls of Dead roaming around it and they had a tank just sitting in a garage, waiting to be fueled up, have a fresh battery installed, and then it would be ready to go. The only reason they had delayed in replacing the battery and filling its fuel tank was that they had nobody around with the knowledge or experience necessary to drive the bloody thing.
The Colonel asked about this garage, where exactly was it, and how easy was it to get inside? The scout told her that the main door was locked up tight, but the tank would drive through that easy enough, the only other door was locked. He held up a key. The smile The Colonel gave was nearly as wide as that on the face of Viking.
We were told that the barracks itself was only a couple of kilometres away, quickly and easily travelled in a car, and Viking insisted on going first thing in the morning. When the question came as to who was going with The Colonel, Viking surprised us all by being the first to volunteer. Redbeard offered his services a moment before I spoke up. Apocalypse Girl then stated if I was going, then so was she. Viking said that was one too many, and he wanted to see my blade in action. He looked Apocalypse Girl in the eye for a moment, then turned to Redbeard. “Sorry, but the girl's coming with us. I've seen that look before, and if I come back without him,” pointing at me, “I'm better off one of the Dead!”
March 19 Year 1 A.Z.
morning
The trip to the barracks, north and east of Viking's main base
of operations, was relatively uneventful. We took the Spiky Landrover of Dead-Slaughtering out there, the driver taking off with it as soon as we arrived at the front gate. Grey snow piled up against buildings, one of which The Colonel walked towards before Viking told her that everything that could possibly have been looted from this barracks had already been taken. She turned back without a word, and our host directed us to the garage within which lay our goal.
Viking swore as we approached. The main door lay open, the shadows within had an ominous feel to them. We drew our sidearms and waded in. The garage itself had been looted of almost everything useful, much of it by The Mech-Techs themselves, but another group had clearly been through and, frustrated by the lack of anything good that they could take with them, tried to destroy everything they could. A few Dead wandered aimlessly around inside that Viking took out with the sledgehammer he had strapped to his back.
It was big, that tank, in fact I would go so far as to say fucking enormous. Viking instantly set to work locating and installing the necessary battery, The Colonel busying herself by re-familiarising herself with the controls. She hadn't actually driven this model of tank before, but she said she could work it out well enough, quickly enough. While they were busying themselves with their tasks, Apocalypse Girl and I stood watch against Dead and Living alike.
Anno Zombus Year 1 (Book 3): March Page 6
