British Zombie Breakout: Part Two

by Peter Salisbury

  British Zombie Breakout Part Two: Escape From Kilkorne

  Copyright Peter Salisbury December 2011

  Cover painting by Daphne Coleridge

  Smashwords Edition

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The contents must not be copied and distributed or re-distributed by means of printed paper, electronic transfer or by any on-line means, without the express permission of the author.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This story is entirely fictional and any resemblance to any person or place is entirely unintentional and coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: The Minister Calls

  Chapter 2: Weapons Check

  Chapter 3: Once Bitten

  Chapter 4: Ultra Violet

  Chapter 5: Something Moved

  Chapter 6: Return to Castle Mount

  Chapter 7: The Trick With The Stone

  Chapter 8: Flying Zombie

  Chapter 9: Texts

  Chapter 10: The Plan

  Chapter 11: Until 4 a.m.

  Chapter 12: Delivery

  Chapter 13: Mess

  Chapter 14: Sweep The Valley

  Chapter 15: Double Blind

  Chapter 16: Supermarket

  Chapter 17: The Green Light

  Chapter 18: Poor Old Things

  Chapter 19: Welcome to Stannicvale

  Chapter 20: Café Zombie

  Chapter 21: The Website

  Chapter 22: Photographic Evidence

  Chapter 23: Contact

  Chapter 24: The Double-Cross

  Chapter 25: Attack On Stannicvale

  Chapter 26: The Message

  More by Peter Salisbury

  Chapter 1: The Minister Calls

  Deep underground in a concrete bunker, a phone rang in an untidy office. The bunker was located twenty feet beneath the surface of a fenced compound. Within the compound were several flat roofed concrete sheds sufficient for detaining and processing up to a thousand people.

  The phone was answered by a bald man in his fifties wearing a white lab coat.

  'Yes?'

  'Is that the head of Breathdeep Biological Research Facility?'

  'Professor Mason speaking,' the scientist said, putting down the scan of a terminally infected skull he'd been studying.

  'At last! This is the Minister for Home Affairs.'

  'I see. I expect you want my report on the breakout?' Albert Mason looked around his office: crowded desk, paperwork overflowing beside the computer, and a bookcase stuffed with academic papers and folders full of case-studies. There was also a wall-mounted lightbox with several x-rays of skulls clipped to it and a square of material on the floor which may once have resembled carpet. Everything in fact, except said report. Still holding the phone, he got up and pushed the door shut with his foot.

  In a stern and haughty voice, the Minister continued, 'The report, doubtless with its full catalogue of excuses, can wait. What I want right now is something I can use to reassure the Prime Minister.'

  Mason sighed and cleared his throat. He'd had no break of any sort since the alarm went off at 4 a.m. and it was now heading towards midday. 'You can reassure the PM with the fact that the army is rounding up every infectee…'

  'Infectee! Don't use your jargon with me, Mason. These are zombies plain and simple. Creatures maddened by one of the most infectious diseases ever created. Zombies created initially in your facility from an illegal deterrent weapon. One which was never meant to be used but also was never, ever to reach the population of England. Zombies, which, although once human beings, have been transformed by your vile disease into psychopathic monsters intent on murder and contamination of anyone they can get their hands on!'

  Mason waited until he thought the minister had reached the end of his tirade. 'As I was saying, Minister, the army has been deployed under my direction. The zombies …'

  'All escaped from your supposedly secure research facility last night. Where is it they've gone to this time?'

  'Instead of heading inland like before, they went straight to the nearest fishing village, a place called Kilkorne.'

  'That's something of a blessing, I assume. How many innocent people have they slaughtered so far?'

  'You may further reassure the Prime Minister that most of the occupants of the village were working, either in towns some distance away, or had left two days ago with the fishing fleet. We have made contact with all vessels in the fleet and they are to remain at sea until further notice.'

  'So, we know at least that they were not contaminated. What damage was done in the village?'

  'The less reassuring aspect is that the infec… er, the zombies rampaged through the school on the way through the village to get to the harbour. However, in the last hour I've received direct communication that they have been surrounded by the army and either killed or captured, together with any remaining villagers.'

  'Children! Can you imagine what the media are going to do with this?'

  'We found only one child who was actually injured, none infected, we think.'

  'Are all the other civilians accounted for?'

  'Unfortunately not.'

  'What? You had better not be about to tell me that the country is to be subjected to the scale of terror your 'Facility' dumped in our laps last time!'

  Professor Mason sank down into the chair behind his desk. He decided against reminding the Minister that it was his ambitious young predecessor who had made the zombie weapon. For the next forty seconds he held the phone away from his ear as the Minister for Home Affairs gave vent to his anger. Mason occupied himself meanwhile by confirming in his own mind that the population of southern England had been so depleted in the first disaster that there simply were insufficient numbers of people left to propagate the sort of infection which swept across the area last time. Nevertheless, he realised that he would have to ensure no stray infectees were able to break through the quarantine barrier he had put in place.

  'The problem is, Minister, that some of the Facility employees here may have been infected and we are not yet certain of the exact numbers of Kilkorne residents who are safely away from the village.'

  'So, what are you doing about it?'

  'The army is liaising with the county council records office via the police to identify everyone apprehended, dead or alive. Simultaneously, we interrupt all TV and radio programmes every half hour with public service bulletins, instructing anyone currently outside the Kilkorne quarantine area that they must contact the police on a designated number immediately.'

  'What else?'

  'I have some preliminary research results on the detection of zombie blood, using Ultra Violet light.'

  'Anything for early detection, so we know who's contaminated and who's not?'

  'Nothing yet but…'

  'But you're working on it. Day and night, I should hope. What about the vaccine?'

  Mason saw that the Minister was working himself up into another fury. 'Vaccine production has been scaled up to produce sufficient quantities for a trial.'

  'Trial? The only trial it's likely to get is immediate use on all infected subjects.'

  'There may be ethical implications to consider with taking that route.'

  'Ethics? This entire project crossed all ethical boundaries a long time ago. There are international treaties against this sort of research. For good reason. I don't need to remind you that your actions will be scrutinised with the utmost severity and that there may well be charges of criminal negligence to follow, if your clean-up operation does not proceed in a satisfactory manner.'

  'Minist
er, I understand perfectly,' Professor Mason said with all the calm he could gather. 'I understand that if I am unable to bring about a positive outcome, you also will be forced to resign.' Without waiting for the minister's expected retort, Mason replaced the phone on its rest and, feeling as grey and tired as he looked, picked up an army issue walkie-talkie.

  Chapter 2: Weapons Check

  Inside the Kilkorne school canteen, the small band of the survivors: five adults and five teenagers sat slumped around a pair of the big, laminated canteen trestles. It was late afternoon on the first day of the second zombie outbreak. The harbourmaster, Janet Reynolds, and four friends had found a way to keep out of harm's way and meet up with the teenagers who had spent most of the day in the castle, until they headed back to the school. In the still intact canteen, they found some much-needed sustenance in the form of meat pies. Janet's own son, Steve, had escaped with four other teenagers: Alex, Maisie, Rachel and Fred, who were all from the same class. Since the two groups had got together, only Janet and Alex had shown much determination about what to do next. The rest of the individuals were still reeling from the events earlier in the day.

  'Why'd the zombies have to come here?' Maisie said, her face a picture of dejection. Her pale blue school blouse had small rips on the arms where she'd had an argument with a bramble patch when they left the castle and her heavily streaked, mousey hair hung around her face in a disorganised tangle. 'They like never bothered us before.'

  'Last time they did a pretty good job of wiping out everyone in five counties,' Graham said. He was in his forties and kept the TV repair shop. His wife Sarah sat next him, with Karen and her husband Bill sitting opposite.

  'About half the population of southern England,' Sarah said.

  'Yeah, well the Ministry and the army handed them that on a plate, herding everyone together, infected or not,' Bill said.

  'No way to tell who was infected during the incubation period, if you can believe that.'

  'How many was it got out the last time, about two hundred?'

  'Two hundred was what they admitted to. Didn't help that most of them were pre-symptomatic.'

  'Right, so you couldn't tell they were infected, apart from their behaviour.'

  'Oh, yeah, the like rampaging and biting thing,' Maisie said. 'Disgusting!'

  'I think they were trying to get to the sea this time,' Janet said, returning to the previous question. 'A lot of them went straight for the harbour.'

  'After like attacking our school,' Maisie said.

  'Probably only because it was on the way and they knew it would be full of all the local kids.'

  'I wonder where all the others went to; the ones who like ran off.'

  'All the ones who survived will be on their way to Breathdeep Camp.'

  'That's where they killed my sister,' Rachel said.

  'Killed?' Graham said.

  'Good as,' Rachel turned away, a tear falling on her sleeve. Her voice was ragged when she continued, 'Caging her up with all the infected ones.'

  Everyone was quiet for several minutes, occupied with their own thoughts, until Maisie spoke again, 'Mrs Reynolds, how did you like get away if the zombies were going for the harbour?'

  'I have to admit things were pretty tight at times. You'd have thought being harbourmaster, I'd have been given advance notice.'

  'We didn't know anything until the klaxon went off and we tried the radio,' Sarah said. 'The three of us, that's Mrs Reynolds, Karen and I ran straight out because we were supposed to organise getting all you school kids onto a boat and away.'

  'What like happened to all the other kids, then?'

  'We don't know because they never turned up.'

  'Zombies or the army must have got 'em,' Bill said.

  'So like how did you end up here?'

  'That,' Janet said with a smile, 'is a whole other story.'

  'You've got to hear what we got up to in the castle, mum.'

  'I'm sure I should, dear but I don't think we ought to hang around here much longer without a purpose. Now might be a good time to check the weapons,' Janet said, taking out her flare gun.

  'You got weapons?' Fred said, leaning forward, eyes wide. 'I had a mace and a sword in the castle.'

  'And you stuck that zombie with a pike,' Steve said.

  'Yeah, that was cool.'

  'Steven, you know I don't like to hear about random acts of violence.' Janet said. 'This is deadly serious.'

  'Sorry mum.'

  'Now, Sarah, do you still have the spare flares?'

  Sarah spread the half dozen cartridges on the table. 'All looking OK.'

  'Bill, your revolver?'

  Bill lifted the gun from his pocket, checked the safety and span the chamber. 'Still got no spare ammo,' he said.

  Chapter 3: Once Bitten

  At one end of the quay a sergeant in charge of half a dozen men spoke into his radio, 'Sir, we've tracked a group of zombies into a fish processing shed.'

  'How many are there?'

  'Twenty or more and they're tearing the place up, lashing together makeshift weapons.'

  'Weapons?'

  'I know, they're usually not smart enough for that sort of thing.'

  'Do they have firearms?'

  'No, sir. I don't think so sir. It's pretty dark inside but in the IR scopes we can see them running around with fish knives and lengths of timber.'

  'You need to get them flushed out of there at the double.'

  'Yes sir, right away sir. We'll smoke 'em out.'

  'Sarge, it's too late, they're coming right at us.' The man at the sergeant's left lurched away firing in rapid bursts.

  The sergeant turned towards the processing shed and looked around the side of a stack of fish crates he was sheltering behind. A short knife buzzed past his ear and clattered onto the ground behind him. It was closely followed by a zombie with only one arm. The remaining arm looked sturdy enough as the crazed creature lunged towards him with a gleaming fish-gutting knife strapped to a broom handle. The improvised spear missed him by inches but the zombie turned back and was upon him in a moment, snarling and spitting with fury. The sergeant raised his automatic but his first shot missed as the zombie sank his teeth into his face. Screaming in pain, the sergeant pulled the trigger again, until half a dozen bullets ripped clean through his attacker, flinging him aside. All around he heard the deafening roar of gunfire. Blood poured from the open wound in his cheek, mixing with the slime and zombie blood that now soaked through his uniform. Zombie stink filled his nostrils.

  'One of them got the sarge. Move across, cover him.'

  'Look out, there's another one!'

  'Fall back, fall back!'

  'Cut them down.'

  Zombie screams and the shouts of the sergeant's men became lost in a blur of pain, sounds of battle and his rising certainty that he had joined the walking dead. 'I'm down,' he said into his microphone, not expecting a reply. 'Bitten.' Several sharp, heavy objects fell, knocking him to the ground.

  The transmission broke up, 'Your men… out of there… amputate… transfusion.'

  'No good… bit my cheek.' His face was contorted with pain and the paralysing effects of virus-laden saliva. He heard the shooting become more sporadic, until it stopped, along with the screaming. Then he felt two sets of hands grab him by the ankles and pull him out from under the tumbled fish crates.

  A figure stood over him, blocking the light. 'We're too late, he's had it.'

  He heard a click close to his ear, an explosion, blackness.

  Chapter 4: Ultra Violet

  Alex left the others sitting round the canteen tables discussing fanciful tactics for dealing with zombies. They seemed to have forgotten again the danger they were all in. She wandered out to where a grocery van was stationed in the school yard outside the canteen door. It had been given a commercial paint job, each of the vans in that grocery chain had them. The side of the van was covered in a rustic mural: a grassy bank, trees, grazing animals; the cab and rear d
oors were plain brown.

  'Actually,' Alex thought, 'this is quite well camouflaged.'

  She remembered her phone and rummaged in her bag for it, one of the bags Maisie had collected before her narrow escape from the collapsing classroom floor.

  If I hadn't grabbed Maisie and pulled her into the corridor…

  Alex's hand connected with her phone but as soon as she glanced at the screen, she saw that the power cut that had blanked out the town had also killed the cell relay tower. No signal.

  Alex heard a sound from behind. It was Janet Reynolds and her son Steve.

  'Got a signal?' Steve said, looking at Alex's phone.

  'Nope, power cut's taken out the relay tower.' Alex nodded in the direction of the pylon at the top of the cliff which shielded the village from the rest of the county.

  'Mine's on a different network,' Steve said, 'but that's out too, and mum's.'

  'All the networks share the same tower.'

  'Karen's got a scanner.' Janet said but then noticed Alex's bemused expression. 'It's a special radio we use in the harbour office. Digital, scans… I mean kind of hops through all the channels one after the other. We can tune in anything official, coastguard, army, that sort of thing.'

  'Sounds more useful than the dinner ladies' ordinary radio I saw in the kitchen. Does yours transmit?'

  Janet shook her head. 'No but it's got heavy duty, rechargeable batteries.' She looked at her watch. 'Ten to six; we'd better go back inside and scan the channels again, see what's going on.'

  They re-entered the canteen to find Karen had been thinking the same thing, with the volume kept low, everyone was already listening to the latest Ministry announcement:

  'It is thought that the zombies were trying to get to the harbour in Kilkorne. From there, we believe their intention was to take some of the many fishing vessels berthed there and sail for France, with the intention of spreading the infection. Fortunately, the fishing fleet is currently out of the harbour. Also since the zombies focussed their attentions in this area, it made it easy for the army to launch an offensive. Kilkorne village is currently being secured within a quarantine perimeter and the army is mopping up both infected individuals and survivors.'