by Russ Watts
“That does not look good,” said Lulu. “We were going to get something to eat there later.”
Bashar followed Lulu’s finger to the building on their left. It was burning wildly out of control, flames reaching high into the air. Bashar recognised the burger joint, just one of many all over London. The fog around it seemed alive, as if the air was rejoicing at the demise of the fast food restaurant. Thick churning smoke mingled with the fog and burning embers floated into the air dancing like fireflies. Massive orange flames burst from the doors and spread up the walls. The windows above had blown out and the fire crackled as Tony drove them cautiously on leaving the burning building behind them.
“Hope you like your burger well done,” said Neale laughing at his own joke.
“You’re a funny guy, Neale,” said Tony.
“Ignore him,” said Lulu. “Just get us through this. I don’t like it. It’s creepy.”
Bashar noticed how the flames appeared to lick at the air, almost as if it could literally burn the fog. The smell of the fire reminded him of the coffee shop when all this had started, when his day had gone from bad to worse to completely fucked up.
On their right a large blue sign was trying to shine through the fog, but the name of the place was obscured. A few letters still stood out, a ‘D’ and an ‘E,’ and a banner of some sort flapped uselessly over one end of it. It almost looked as if Will Smith’s face was grinning at them from one end of the banner. The upper part of the building disappeared into the murky fog and at street level the doorway was blocked by a food cart lying on its side. Sugar cones and chocolate flakes had spilled out over the pavement and the creamy contents of the cart had congealed around a dead body.
“That’s a cinema, I think,” said Lulu mournfully.
“Hey, what’s that?” asked Neale, shoving an arm in between the headrests and pointing forward.
Bashar looked hard but struggled to see what Neale was pointing at. In front of them lay a vast expanse of grey.
“Nothing. There’s nothing there,” said Tony. “The park’s on our left. Nothing to see there except a few homeless people and a lot of pigeons.”
“Or a few pigeons and a lot of homeless people,” muttered Lulu.
“No, there’s something ahead,” said Neale. “See how the fog’s moving? I think we should turn around, Tony. Forget this and take the roads. I don’t care if it takes a bit longer.”
“What’s the problem?” Lulu leant forward and put her face up against the glass, cupping her hands around her head. “I don’t see anything. Just the fog. There’s—”
A woman suddenly stepped out in front of the driver’s side of the van and Tony slammed on the brakes. Lulu banged her head on the glass and was thrown back in her seat.
“Ow,” said Lulu, rubbing her forehead. “Did you have to do that?”
“Shush.” Bashar glanced at Lulu and raised his hammer. “Just hold on, Lulu.”
“Why, what’s up with you? There’s nothing out there so I don’t see the big deal.”
“Look again,” said Neale. “Just look.”
Bashar watched as the woman strode purposefully out in front of the van, her head low and her legs long and slim. The van’s headlights illuminated her and shone on her pale skin making it appear as if her skin was pure white, almost translucent. She wore a long black cape that shimmered in the fog and trailed behind her like a river, smooth and constant, the colour of it shiny yet dark. The woman turned towards the van and Bashar expected her to attack like the other zombies. Yet she didn’t. The woman was just standing there, her head tucked away and hidden underneath the hood of the cape.
“Who the fuck is this bitch?” asked Lulu.
“Something tells me she doesn’t want a lift.” Tony thought of putting the van into reverse, but they had gone so far he didn’t want to waste time going backward. They were halfway across Leicester Square and it would be quicker to carry on than go back around. He wondered if she was injured, catatonic perhaps. “Shall I check on her?” Tony put his hand on the door handle.
“No,” said Bashar urgently. “No, stay in the van, Tony. Everyone just stay here.” He had no idea who this woman was and yet he felt like he knew her. It wasn’t just the long cape or the way she walked, but her aura, her presence. The fog wasn’t as thick around her and as she stood still he noticed it started to recede. Did she somehow have some sort of control over it? Or was there something about her that it just didn’t like? “Just wait and see what she does. Whatever she wants I think we’ll find out soon.”
As the fog around the woman slowly slipped away it revealed more of the city. A bench came into view, a stacked bundle of newspapers still neatly tied up in a pile beside it where they had been left, and then a café over to her right next to the cinema. The white plastic chairs and tables on the pavement were scattered all over the place and Bashar noticed a few bodies lying amongst them, obviously dead. There were women and children amongst the dead, some still holding hands. One man had a baby in his arms, yet his face had been torn apart, as if he had been set upon by dogs. The baby’s arms had been ripped off and next to them lay a woman with no legs. Her guts spilled onto the pavement and the blood that had drained out of her mingled with the curdled ice cream from the food cart. Bashar felt nausea and fear rising inside of him as he turned back to the woman.
“I really think we should go, Tony,” said Neale. His knees were going numb from crouching in the back of the van, and the toolbox he was sitting on was uncomfortable. “Let’s just go back. Find another way. I don’t like this. What’s this woman doing?”
“See how the fog is disappearing?” Lulu leant forward again. “Is she… is she doing that?”
The woman slowly raised her arms and when her hands reached straight up the black cape fell back past her elbows, revealing more of the woman. Her arms were thin, much like her legs, and her skin was just as pure white as her legs. The woman slowly reached for her hood and pulled it back as she lifted her head. Bashar saw her clearly for the first time. He had seen glimpses of her before, snatches that had meant nothing to him: amber eyes, the shocking fiery hair and snowy white skin. The woman’s features were striking yet soft, beautiful yet dangerous; Bashar found his eyes drawn to her and had to admit he was scared of her despite being attracted to her at the same time.
“Wow,” said Tony. “Wow,” he said again.
The woman stood six feet tall and walked barefoot. As she looked at the van she smiled. Luscious red lips curled up and revealed perfect white teeth. The corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled and Bashar noticed her prominent cheekbones. It seemed like the more he looked at her the more he wanted her.
“She’s amazing,” said Neale.
“Perfect,” whispered Tony.
“Beautiful,” added Bashar.
“Keep it in your pants, boys, she’s not all that,” said Lulu. “Seriously, what’s with you? Hello, planet Earth calling, are you lot still with me?”
Nobody answered Lulu, and she looked at Bashar and Tony either side of her. It was as if they were mesmerised, captivated by the woman. Bashar dropped his hammer at his feet and his eyes were fixated on the woman outside the van. Lulu saw the trees in the park come into view as the fog continued to dissipate and she looked at Tony. What was happening was surreal. She felt like she was on a schooner surrounded by idiots drawn to a mermaid. Except this was London and mermaids didn’t exist.
“Tony, let’s go. I hate to agree with Neale, but maybe we should turn around.”
Lulu noticed Tony’s hands lift off the steering wheel and one went to the door handle. His mouth was agape and his eyes wide, yet fixed firmly on the redhead outside. It was almost as if they were under her spell. She could accept Neale would fall for it, but Tony and Bashar?
“Stop it, right now.” Lulu grabbed Tony’s arm and pulled it back from the door handle. Tony looked at Lulu with a blank expression. She tried to find Tony in there, but it was like looking at a waxwork mode
l of who Tony used to be. “Tony, quit messing around.”
Tony reached for the door handle again and Lulu knew if he opened it there would be no going back. She knew that if he got out of the van then that would be the last action he did. The woman had hypnotised him somehow and was forcing him to do this. Lulu looked at Bashar for help, but he was under her spell too. He was reaching for his door handle to. Lulu looked at the woman. How could she stop this, how could she make Tony and Bashar stop?
The woman’s red lips parted and her smile turned into something far more sinister and sadistic. With one hand raised she pointed at the van and beckoned with one finger. Lulu heard Bashar unlock his door.
“Stop it,” Lulu screamed, partly at Bashar and partly at the woman. “Leave us alone!”
CHAPTER 8
Lulu sensed she had to do something quickly before it was too late. She yanked Bashar back against the seat, leant over him and pulled the door shut. Then she picked up his hammer and thrust it into his hands.
“Hold this and don’t move,” she said urgently.
Bashar’s eyes blinked rapidly as he looked from the hammer to Lulu. It was as if he were looking at her for the first time.
“Where are we?”
Lulu had no time to waste on explaining the situation. She turned and slapped Tony’s face as hard as she could. He slowly turned his head and faced her with a mixture of bewilderment and surprise.
“Tony, for fuck’s sake, snap out of it,” pleaded Lulu.
Tony seemed to hesitate and then face the window again. His hand reached to the door handle and his fingers wrapped around the latch.
“Tony!” Lulu slapped him again and then pounded her fist on the horn. She kept pummelling the centre of the wheel and the blaring horn seemed to have an effect.
“What… what are you doing?” asked Tony. He raised a hand to his blushing cheek and frowned. “Did you just hit me?”
“What’s happening?” Neale leant forward between the headrests. His eyes were drained and his face pale. “We’re getting out aren’t we? I thought we were all getting out.”
“No, nobody is getting out,” said Lulu. “Tony is going to move this van and drive that psycho down.”
“Who, that woman? But she needs out help. She said so. She said we had to get out and help her,” replied Neale, the confusion evident in his tone.
“No.” Bashar pinched his nose and looked at Lulu. “Thank God you’re here, Lulu.”
“This is… where’s Lissie?” Tony examined Lulu’s face for answers but found only anger. He looked at the red headed woman standing in front of the van. “Who’s that? Why did we stop?”
“I think, Tony, that the time for questions has passed,” said Bashar.
“Thank you. Can we go now?” Lulu prodded Tony. “Drive and mow that bitch down.”
Tony put the van into gear and stared out into Leicester Square. “I don’t know about that.”
The woman’s face had changed. Her delicate features no longer suggested beauty or fragility, but a sharpness and boldness that seemed to emanate from her whole body. Her eyes were narrow and her mouth closed. She looked like she was ready for a fight. Her hand that had been pointing at the van dropped to her side and she bent down on one knee.
“Is she bowing?” asked Neale. “Tony, for once I agree with Lulu. She doesn’t need our help. Let’s leave her be, you know?”
“Mow her down, Tony. Seriously.” Lulu urged Tony on and the van trundled forward a few inches. “She’s not as innocent as you think. I don’t know what her deal is but I’m pretty sure if you let her that she’d eat you alive.”
The woman outside stood up straight again and shrugged. She looked to her left, to her right, and then took a step back. Her eyes found Bashar’s and her mouth whispered something inaudible.
“What did she just say?” asked Tony. “Im not sure about this. I just want to get to Lissie.”
She’s waiting.
Bashar knew what the woman had said, though not why. Who was she? Was this some sort of trick or mind game? It was the same words Sam had said to him just before she had died. It was likely to be just a coincidence. The woman probably wasn’t even looking at him, was she?
“I think she said she’s waiting,” said Neale. “I’m not sure, you know, but I can read lips pretty well and that’s what it looked like.”
“Lissie? Waiting for me? How does she know that?” Tony suddenly grew anxious. “How does she know Lissie?”
The woman outside the van smiled. She spread her fingers, smiled, and then pulled her black cape around her. Then she spread her arms wide and with open palms appeared to beckon someone out of sight to her. Then she nodded once and began to walk away, her black cape hiding her. There was a rumbling noise, a steady hum much like an outboard motor, and the van began to shake.
As the woman continued walking away from the van, Bashar looked at Lulu. “I think you might have pissed her off.”
“What the hell is going on?” Tony started the van forward but quickly stopped. “Shit.”
“What is it? I can’t see from here. Where is she?” The confidence in Neale’s voice had returned. It was as if the presence of the woman had weakened him. Now that she was leaving, his natural arrogance was returning. “Lulu you sure you don’t want to jump back here. I’m sick of being in the back like a little kid.”
The vibrations grew stronger and then Bashar saw them. They came crawling from the fog insidiously, quietly, yet focussed. The fog was coming back and bringing zombies with it.
“Oh, this is not good,” said Tony.
Zombies came pouring from the small park, walking across the grass and silver-coloured paving. They came from the restaurants and cafés, the shops and malls, the cinemas surrounding them and the open space of the square. Some were faster than others, but mostly they trudged at a steady pace, their dead bodies stiff and struggling to move with any fluidity. Arms and legs jerked back and forth, and heads snapped forward regularly as if the zombies were attempting to bite them from afar.
“Okay, now I believe,” whispered Lulu.
Bashar saw a cross-section of London spread across the Square, all sizes and colours. Whatever plague had done this had taken anyone it could. It had not spared children either and Bashar noticed several amongst the dead. Many of them looked to have been in a vicious fight or were covered in bite marks. Even with obvious broken limbs or chunks missing from their faces and necks they still walked. There were no voices amongst the dead outside, just the constant moaning that erupted from their open mouths and joined in unison to sound like a foghorn. A woman wearing what appeared to be a rucksack on her front tripped over a discarded bicycle. The dead child she had been carrying fell out and Bashar winced as its head cracked on the hard ground. There was no cry from the child and the woman didn’t so much as glance at it as she picked herself up. The child wore a cream jumpsuit and small bonnet, and as it rolled over it lifted its head up. A deep fissure ran the length of its soft skull, splitting the child’s face in half. Drool spilled from its mouth and Bashar felt sick when he looked into its black eyes. He wished then that the fog would come back and hide them. The infant couldn’t yet walk and it began to drag its body along the floor toward the van. More zombies engulfed it, faster than the crawling baby, and Bashar looked down at his feet, unable to watch the death approaching outside. He felt sorry for those outside, sorry for all the people who had died. London was no longer a city but a cemetery, a metropolis of murder and mayhem. How was he going to get through this to Nurtaj? How were any of them going to make it?
“Are they all dead?” asked Tony. It was a rhetorical question. He knew the answer, but needed to say it aloud to reinforce what he was seeing. He needed to make it real.
“They’re all dead,” said Bashar. He looked up again and noticed the fog was coming back, settling over the dead, albeit not as thick as before.
A thump on the rear of the van startled them all and Lulu grabbed hold of Bas
har’s arm. “Fuck, they’re behind us too.”
“Gun it, Tony!” shouted Neale.
“Hurry, before they surround us.” Lulu shoved Tony and he slammed the accelerator down as the first zombie reached them.
The van lurched forward and two men bounced off the bonnet, hurtling backwards into others sending them falling like skittles. The van skidded over the body of another and then ploughed into the crowd. There were sickening noises as body after body fell under the van. Blood splashed the windshield like thick rain and Tony turned on the wipers. Faces and hands pressed up against the glass and hammered on the side of the van as he tried to drive them through the crowd to the other side of Leicester Square.
“There’s too many of them,” said Tony as he struggled to keep the van going.
“Go back,” said Bashar. To his left a dead woman thrust her fists against the glass and a large crack appeared in it. “Go back, Tony, we’re not going to make it through this.”
Tony quickly stopped and the tidal wave of zombies threatened to overwhelm them. Quickly he slammed the van into reverse and began to retreat over the fallen bodies he had just taken them through. The fog was encroaching from all sides now and though the zombies were still there, most were hidden. Those close enough battered the van, pummelling its panel work and scratching at the doors, unable to get in.
“Christ, this is insane,” said Neale.
Bashar saw the glowing flames of the burning fast food restaurant and knew they were almost out. More and more zombies threw themselves at the van in a desperate attempt to make it stop, but they lacked the dexterity to grab hold of it with any strength. It wasn’t for any lack of effort on their part, just an inability to use the body God had provided. Bashar could sense Tony had almost gotten them free. Soon they would be back on the road. A man rushed at the side of the van and grabbed the handle, almost getting lucky and pulling it open. Bashar stared at the man, amazed he could still walk. He was aflame from head to foot. His clothes had been reduced to black clumps of material that stuck to the man’s skin, and through the red fire that melted his skin Bashar spotted small black eyes looking back at him. The man lost his grip on the handle and fell, passing the fire onto another poor soul.
