Day Zed - Box Set: Volumes I and II

by Charles Smith

  Padraig looked down at the large trailer, which had metal sheets welded onto its sides, so that it could hold more stock and at the same time prevented the undead from being able to enter it. He looked back at the man. “There are sixty three of us inside. I can’t give you all that food and water, we need it.” The farmer stood there and shook his head, before telling the supermarket manager, “You don’t understand. I’m not asking you for food I’m telling you that I’m taking it.” Padraig stood firm, he didn’t want the man to know he was petrified. He had a responsibility to care for the people with him, they had sought his help and it was up to him to provide them with refuge. “Look I’m sorry I can give you a couple of bags to tide you over, but that’s it.” He insisted.

  The driver didn’t attempt to make an effort to barter for a larger share, and surprised Padraig by giving up so easily. Padraig watched as he climbed back down into the cab, and then started the engine of the huge piece of machinery. The store manager was still in shock that the brute of a man had just walked off, without any confrontation. As the huge loader began to reverse, sickeningly crushing whatever was in its path, Padraig turned to return to the ladder. He stopped in his tracks when he heard the driver floor the accelerator pedal, and push the engine of the loader to its limits. He turned just in time to see the front of the loader rip through the shutters and glass store front. He heard the screams from within as the loader reversed and the hole it had created was filled instantly by a surge of hungry zombies.

  Tilbury Docks, 18th July, 9:04 GMT

  Kathy’s orders were simple, and that had been for the pair to fall back to the warehouse, where the rest of the group now waited for them. As yet they hadn’t made a break for it, Daryl and Dave were still laying down, pinned to the floor by speculative sniper shots every now and then; at the moment Kathy’s orders didn’t seem so simple. Daryl finally convinced Dave that they would have to move as the sniper hadn’t fired for the last couple of minutes, and that they couldn’t waste the opportunity. The pair stayed low, as they crawled out of the security post and out behind it. They had only moved a matter of yards, when again the all too familiar crack of bullet hitting the wall sounded above them. Progress was slow, with them only being able to move a few yards at a time, before the sniper managed to catch sight of them. Whoever had originally been shooting at them from the second floor window, must have moved to higher ground, as there was no way the gun man would have been able to see them hiding behind the containers; either that, or there was a second shooter positioned somewhere in the docks.

  For the past few minutes they hadn’t been able to move at all, with the gunman being able to pin them down completely. All they had managed to travel so far was a mere fifty metres from their original position at the security kiosk at the front of the area. The sudden roar of two engines split the air, the noise coming from directly behind them, just outside of the large metal gates. A screeching of brakes, and then sporadic bursts of rifle fire told the pair all they needed to know; they needed to move now. Daryl turned to Dave, “We’ve got to move mate. Once they’re through the gates, we are dead men if we are caught out in the open.” Dave didn’t reply, all he was capable of was nodding in acknowledgement with a fearful expression across his face. He was still deep in shock, and was struggling to mentally cope with what was happening around them. “On the count of three, follow me Dave. Until we shake off this sniper, we will have to run in diagonal lines, do you hear me?” The Taxi driver again nodded a response. As soon as Daryl reached his count of three, he took off and ran in a diagonal line to the next set of containers. Just as he reached the safety of the shaded corner, he could clearly hear the entrance gates being rammed. “Dave you’ve got to move now mate.” Daryl shouted to the still prone man. He watched in despair as Dave finally forced himself, up from the floor, and then took what seemed like an eternity to move. With whoever was attempting to break through the gates still busy firing their weapons behind them, Daryl knew they didn’t have much more time to get behind better cover.

  Finally Dave stepped out, and then started to run. His brain must have been riddled with shock, as he failed to change direction and just ran in a straight line, down the length of the container constructed laneway. Daryl shouted at him to change his direction, but he was oblivious to the soldiers warning. When he was just five feet from making it to the safety of the next corner, his run stopped, and he staggered to an alarming halt. As he swayed on the spot Daryl realised something was wrong, and when he collapsed face first into the ground the engineer could instantly see why. Daryl stayed in the safety of cover, afforded to him by the containers, but could clearly see that Dave had sustained a lethal shot to the back of his head. As he looked at the gaping wound, which was the size of a fist, in the back of Dave’s head, he knew it was a waste of time going over to check the fallen man, for a pulse. He scanned the immediate area for the next point of cover, and then made a dash for it. He recognised the container that he now stood in; he had only searched it yesterday. Concerned that the gunfire at the front of the docks had now moved into the area itself, Daryl decided to take refuge in one of the containers, rather than try to outrun the vehicles, that he could now hear approaching.

  He knew that the third container along would be out of view for the sniper; there was simply no way he would have a vantage point to watch Daryl as he opened to the rusting blue metal box. Having checked this row of containers only the day before Daryl knew he was entering one filled with pallets of toilet suites. He also remembered that there was a gap at the back that he could hide in, once he had climbed over the toilet suites at the front. He wasn’t able to lock large metal door from the inside, and had to take the chance that pulling it closed would be enough to fool his pursuers.

  The engineer had only just enough time to get to the back of the container and set up a defensive position. After he was ready to open fire with his assault rifle, he radioed ahead to Kathy. He could now hear the men approaching his position, the purring of the vehicles engine sounded like it was right outside. He could also hear men talking to one another in their own language as they walked down the narrow laneways of containers. Several voices began shouting at once; they must have found Dave’s body.

  Common sense had come into play after speaking with Kathy, and Daryl had automatically switched off the hand held radio. Sven now stood over Dave’s still body, he bent down and scooped up the radio that lie next to his still warm body, and held down the transmit button. “Where are you little piggy? We know there were two of you.” He waited for a few minutes, whilst he looked all around him, only stopping when the radio spoke back to him. “Is that you Sven?” He recognised the voice as Kathy’s. “Hello Kathy, yes this is Sven.” “Why have you attacked us?” She asked. Sven cackled out loud, before he started to cough hard. He waited until he had regained composure, he would enjoy torturing this woman. “I would think that is obvious.” He answered. “You could have had supplies, without any of this bloodshed?” “Food I can find anywhere, I’m not after the supplies. You have something of much more value to us.” He replied in a menacing tone. “Such as?” Sven developed a wicked grin as he replied to the soldier’s question, “We want the women.” Now Kathy’s tone changed as she yelled back, “That isn’t going to happen.” Her show of defiance didn’t wipe the evil sneer for his face. “Oh we will see Kathy, it is going to happen.”

  The inside of the container was pitch black, which gave Daryl zero visibility to work with. He could hear an army of voices, but as they were spoken in a foreign language, he didn’t know what they were saying. Judging by the noise his pursuers were making, he could tell they were now actively searching for him. One by one the containers were being opened, and it was just a matter of time, before they stumbled upon him. It sounded like whoever now stood directly in front of the doors, to his container, was in charge. Although he couldn’t understand what was being said the owner of the voice was far too verbal just to be talking. If Daryl was rig
ht and the man decided to check the container himself, taking him as a hostage might reward the soldier with a means of escape.

  Sven stood in front of the rusting blue container, he was busy organising the five men around him, and they were busy carrying out his instructions of searching each of the giant containers. His man on the roof had radioed ahead to him that they were in the right area, and that the man that had escaped his scope, couldn’t have gone much further. When the second group of men that he had sent ahead, to storm the camp reported back that it was empty, Sven’s rage got the better of him. He pulled Dave’s radio from his pocket and thumbed the broadcast button. “Where are you bitch?” There was no reply to his question, and still fuelled with anger he spoke again, “We have your other man.” Still no reply was forthcoming, “I’m going to gut you myself you fucking bitch.” Sven roared into the handset.

  He couldn’t believe that despite successfully storming the docks that he and his eleven men were going to have to waste time searching the whole area; it could possibly take him and his men weeks. Had Kathy seen through his lies of being part of a peaceful group of over fifty? She was a lot smarter than he had given her credit for. He had told the truth about coming from Sweden; they had indeed been out on the ocean when the outbreak struck, only they weren’t fishermen as it was no longer a viable career with the economic downturn, some years earlier. They had made a living from smuggling and pirating. When Sven first started attacking other boats, he had been surprised at just how many had been up to illegal wrongdoings themselves, and therefore never reported the crime to authorities. News of the outbreak reached them as they were returning home, and Sven instantly decided to head for the shores of Britain. Over the past two weeks they had scavenged for supplies. As long as a person was prepared to take a risk of combating the undead, there were plenty of rewards to be had. What they hadn’t come across since reaching the shore, was women, and it was that carnal desire that had driven them to attack this group.

  Now that his anger had resided a little Sven refocused on his search for Daryl. He never for one moment expected to take all of the women alive, just a couple would suffice. When they stormed the gates Sven had been certain that if he could use one of the sentries as leverage, he would have swapped Heather for them, but now he wasn’t so sure. Kathy had made him look stupid in front of his men, and if he got the chance she was going to pay for it.

  The smuggler turned to face the container he stood in front of; it wasn’t locked. He signalled the two men near him to open the doors, whilst he stood to the side. Waiting for the second door to open, Daryl now crouched at the ready. When it eventually opened Daryl sprang up and released a controlled barrage of bullets from his automatic rifle. Sven’s two men were instantly cut to shreds, and fell to the ground, before they were able to squeeze off a shot. Out of the corner of his eye Daryl saw Sven dive to the ground, out of sight. As he lay on the floor screaming orders to his other men, they pointed frantically behind him. He turned to see what his men were pointing at, and his eyes bulged in their sockets at the sight before him.

  With the front gates now smashed open there wasn’t anything to keep the zombies out. The noise his men had made resulted in attracting every zombie within a five mile radius converging in the docks direction. Many were already in the docks, and Daryl’s volley of gunfire had alerted them to where prey would be. Sven scrambled to his feet and began to run towards his men, he opened fire at the open container as he ran past the open doors. The toilet suites caught in his crossfire disintegrated into porcelain shards, as Daryl dived for cover. One of the bullets caught the soldier in his right clavicle and the pain tore through him, as the bullet exited through his back into the metal wall behind him.

  He lay on the floor in excruciating pain, it felt like he had been hit by a sledgehammer. Without his wound being taken care of, he would lose too much blood. Daryl attempted to stand, but didn’t have the strength to do so. He fell back to the ground and turned in time to see the first of the zombies stumble into the container. A multitude of them walked past the open container; so many that Daryl stopped counting, he was just thankful that the majority of them had continued to stagger after Sven and the other two men. A few at the back of the pack stopped at the mouth of the open container. To Daryl it looked like they were smelling at the air. They moved towards Sven’s two fallen men and began to gorge on the still warm human flesh. As a dozen more joined the feeding frenzy, Daryl was sickened to see how quickly they stripped the bodies to mere carcasses, he then blacked out.

  Kathy and Jackson had changed their plans, when Daryl reported Dave’s death. They had returned to the warehouse and collected Morgan so that he could help them. Kathy had thought better of telling the group about Dave just yet, it would be more appropriate after the fight was over. The three of them had then stealthily approached the camp, where they had come across the other group of Sven’s men, all of them had been killed easily. After they had cleared the camp they all heard the gunshots and begun to run towards their origin.

  Sven left the last of his men to guard to watch the open container from a distance, he implicitly told them they were not to leave the area, at least until some of the dead had gone inside and eaten Kathy’s man alive. He meanwhile jumped into the Range Rover and proceeded to the camp, as none of the other group would answer his calls. As he turned the corner he was as shocked as Kathy was that he was now facing her and two of her men. Before he could turn the steering wheel to avoid them, she fired a burst from her raised rifle. Some of the bullets found their target, arching a trail up the bonnet and some entering the windscreen, injuring Sven. He slumped forward as the bullets tore into him, pressed down on the accelerator and lost control of his vehicle.

  The three soldiers watched as Sven’s vehicle shot forward, it didn’t look like it was going to stop. By pure coincidence the Range Rover hurtled towards the large warehouse, where the rest of the group waited. Realising what was about to happen they ran after the Range Rover, all the time their eyes were focussed in the direction that they thought Daryl might be in. Morgan broke the silence between them, “I’ll go for Daryl. You two get back to the others.” He told them. They stopped their pursuit, and Kathy reluctantly agreed. He kissed her on her forehead and immediately ran off in the other direction towards Daryl. “Be careful Jay.” She shouted after him, before starting to run along with Jackson towards the others.

  Shanice’s Journal, 20th July, 16:05 GMT

  We have been on the boats for over a whole day now. We cannot use the engines as the noise makes the bad people try and chase us, so the men let the boats drift for a while and then row some more when they aren’t tired. The problem is London is full of zombies and everywhere we try to stop there are too many to risk it. I’m so sad we had to leave the docks, because I never got a chance to find my container of toys. I understand that we had to leave, it wasn’t safe anymore, after Sven and his nasty men broke down the gates that had kept us safe.

  My birthday was the worst ever thanks to nasty old Sven. Penny has not spoken for two days, since finding out that Dave is dead. Poor old Dave was shot in the head and eaten by the zombies, we didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to him. Daryl was shot as well, and has been ill ever since; the grown up say he has lost a lot of blood, and that he might not get well again. I feel sorry for Scott, he has been so sad and worried, whilst he tries to get Daryl better. Daryl is lucky that the monsters didn’t manage to bite him when he fainted on the floor, and even more lucky that Morgan managed to find him. All we need now is for him to be lucky one more time, so that he can wake up and be well again.

  Whilst Morgan found Daryl and began to bring him back, that horrible Sven crashed his big car into our shutter and went and broke it. His car bounced off the shutter and hit the wall next to it, and then it exploded, Daddy would tell me off if he read this, but I’m glad Sven was in the car when it exploded. Just after the car crashed Kathy and Jackson came back to check we were all ok, and th
en they put Sven’s fire out with extinguishers. God roasted Sven didn’t smell good at all, let me tell you.

  We waited, and waited and finally Morgan made it back to us, dragging Daryl along with him. He was real tired and looked glad when Jackson and Scott rushed out to help him. The problem with Morgan having to carry Daryl, was that he couldn’t move very fast, which meant the bad people followed Morgan all the way back to the base. With no time to spare, all of us got in our positions behind the container and watched Daddy and Jackson get ready for the monsters to come in.

  First there was only a few, but the noise they made brought more. It’s a good job they are so dumb, many of them walked straight into Daddy’s spears. Within two hours the front of the warehouse was full of them, and even though they were trapped, they still wanted to try and eat us. I don’t know why Jin-Lee laughed when I shouted, “Doink them daddy.” I wasn’t joking, I was being deadly serious. When Daddy did use the doinkers I was disappointed; the sound they made when they hit the bad people in the head, just didn’t sound like a doink. I was pleased to see how many were killed by the big beams though, nearly all of the ones that were stuck in the warehouse were smashed to bits, as the posts swung back and forth. When the posts stopped swinging, more of the zombies came forward, there were hundreds of them.

  Some of the spikes got broken by the “Doinkers” and his allowed the bad people to move nearer, onto the metal plates. The noisy generators had been switched on by Daddy, before he climbed up onto the container with us. It was so disappointing to see that the electric wasn’t doing anything to them, and just as I was about to complain things changed. As they came forward they started to twitch, it looked like fleas were running all over them and biting them. It wasn’t until they were half way across the trap that their brains began to smoke; some of their heads even were on fire. Up until then I thought burnt Sven was the worst smell in the world, but burnt zombies, now that’s just gross. It was so stinky that it made Heather sick.