Day Zed - Box Set: Volumes I and II

by Charles Smith

  From the munitions area the group made their way back to the canteen. The last of the survivors: Jackson, Gerard, Heather and Letitia had been busy preparing the biggest send-off breakfast, any of them was likely to ever see again in their lives. With the freezers due to be switched off when the power to the bunker was cut, Kathy had instructed them that they were to cook everything that they could.

  Of the three bunker survivors, Letitia had come across as the least traumatised. She had been born in a tough part of East London, where crime was commonplace. From a very early age she had been misfortunate enough to have seen violence on a regular basis, and as a result of that trauma early on in her life, she now found it unfazed her. Letitia had lost one brother to a gang murder, and her other to a long custodial sentence. For the past two years she had spent most of her time volunteering with her local gospel chapter. Letitia had found that through God she finally had a channel to release all of the negative energy through.

  She had fallen foul of Ron and the two women, simply because she wouldn’t support them. She was twenty six years old, and although she was more mature than the teenagers, she had still been able to mix with them. She had agreed that at times the others could be frustrating, but they were young, and letting off steam, she could understand their needs. When Ron finally snapped he had given Letitia a choice; join him and the women, or be punished with the rest. Her beliefs wouldn’t allow her to support Ron, and she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if she had joined him, just to save her own skin.

  Ron had decided to make an example of her by leading Letitia outside, so that she would be the first of his victims. She could tell at the time that it was not a result of the teenager’s behaviour that caused Ron to turn bad; at the end of the day Ron was a pervert and with no one strong enough to control his urges, they were free to spew forth. She could tell he was also a racist, by the insults he directed at her during her ordeal; what had sickened her was how Lexi had been fooled by him and his white supremacy beliefs.

  When she told her canteen group that at first the two women had been upset that Ron had raped her, none of them had been surprised, each and every one of them was disgusted at what these three individuals had inflicted upon the others. It had been when Letitia told them how Ron got the women on his side that shocked them; by gunpoint he forced Sam to have intercourse with both of them. Ron had tried to force Taigh as well, but the young Irishman wouldn’t give in, and Ron gave up after beating him senseless to no avail; Taigh still wouldn’t give in so Ron just shot him. It had been as simple as that for Ron to gain control. The feel of a young man’s touch, somehow made them feel wanted again. They chose to ignore the fact that Sam was forced into pleasing them, and for all they cared, if he was made to do it for the rest of their lives it would feel like immortality had been bestowed upon them.

  The Circle Line, London, 21st July 14:05 GMT

  As Kathy had requested breakfast had been the grandest of affairs. Literally everything contained in the pantry had been made available to the survivors. With so much food available and the sheer variety that had been on offer, a few of them had joked that it felt like an all-inclusive holiday breakfast. Everyone was now overfull; the only reason they were standing up was at precisely two ‘o’ clock the power was switched off. Gerard had already laid a line of lighting from the canteen, all the way back to the hidden exit; the strings of lights were powered by batteries that were being left behind.

  No one was more relieved than Shanice that the exit led down from the rear of the canteen, as she complained about her belly being sore from all the ice cream she had eaten. All the rest of the group could do was laugh at the little girl, she had shocked everyone by insisting that she try a scoop of every one of the different flavours contained within the freezers. If the ice cream wasn’t enough she had gone through a stack of Belgian waffles as well. “You’ll be exploding again.” Jackson joked over his shoulder in her direction.

  Kathy and Morgan had left the bunker ahead of the others, and now waited in the recess of the underground tunnel, along with all of the back packs and two service carts filled with weapons. As they watched each of the survivors emerge they were relieved to see that the three newcomers had bonded with the rest. The two soldiers looked and smiled at each other, content that their plan had worked. Now armed with high powered torches the darkness was no longer an issue for them. Each torch had been fully charged and would give them, ten hours of near-daylight. The sight of the tunnels now lit up, left a feeling of amazement; these tunnels had been constructed years ago, without the huge tunnelling machines used today. The tunnels had been dug over years and each separate section showed that. One minute everything was concrete, and then suddenly it turned to brickwork. Considering that The Circle Line was over a hundred years old and had stood the test of time so well, was a living testament to its builder’s skills.

  With most of the tunnels blocked by trains the group found it difficult to walk along the track without gasping in deep mouthfuls of air. The air flow that had only just about been bearable during summers, when the underground was functioning, was now dangerously sparse. As they approached the first of the abandoned trains Morgan shuddered thinking what it must have been like during the Second World War, when the stations and tunnels had been used as improvised air raid shelters for the masses.

  They all stopped in front of the abandoned train, which blocked the tunnel. To proceed any further, each would have to walk up the wooden ramp that judging by the way it had been put together, was the work of the Grubby One and his men. The ramp run from the tracks up into the cab of the driver’s area. If it hadn’t been for the ramps they would have had to abandon their two trolleys of extra supplies; there was no way they would have been able to lift them into the cab, and as there packs were already full, carrying the extra supplies would have been an impossibility. “The two supply carts go first, at least then if there is a surprise inside we won’t get trapped.” Instructed Kathy.

  Without any prompting Morgan took the ramp first, pulling the first cart behind him. The sheer weight of the loaded cart meant that Morgan couldn’t pull the cart unaided up the incline, and Kathy had to help push it from behind. Morgan ducked as he entered through the windowless cab, and for the merest of seconds dropped into the impeding darkness offered by the train. Everyone seemed to sigh in relief when Morgan’s torch was switched on. If manoeuvring the heavy cart up the slope had looked difficult to the rest of the group, they quickly realised that getting it back down the ramp, and through the tiny drivers cab was a different proposition all together. Morgan struggled holding the cart balanced at the top of the slope, and Kathy had to squat as she went through the opening, pulling the cart with all her strength, just to stop it crashing through the cab and crushing Morgen.

  Eventually the cart was manoeuvred into the cab and straight into the first carriage. Kathy poked her head out through the back of the train to tell Jackson to secure a couple of ropes to the back end of the second trolley so that the others could take up the strain as it was lowered through the window. Once the ropes were tied, Jackson led the other cart up the incline, with Sam pushing from behind. Gerard, Letitia and Penny took the strain on the ropes as the cart began its descent, and although it was still a gruelling task, it proved easier than the first of the carts.

  It took the group nearly an hour to pass through the deserted twelve carriage train. They were unfortunate that the train blocking their tunnel was one of the older models, with doors leading to and from each carriage. This stretch of track was shared between two routes: The District Line and The Circle Line. All of the trains operating on The District Line were the oldest carriages, as it was the last line that was due to see a renovation of its fleet. If luck had been on their side and the train had been on the latter route, they would have found travelling through the modern twelve carriage, open plan train easy. “What happened to all the passengers Daddy?” A puzzled Shanice asked Gerard, as they gathered outs
ide of the drivers cab at the other end of the train. “I guess they got out and walked Princess.” Was the only answer Gerard could give, and as there was so far no evidence to suggest people had been left in the tunnels, he had to assume they had somehow managed to escape the underground network. “Where would they have walked to though Daddy?” “The driver would have led them to the next station, and then back outside baby.”

  The same rope method was used by the group to lower the carts out through the other end of the train. Apart from the infrequent hung lanterns that were dotted along the length of the walls the tunnel was void of any other signs of recent life. Travelling along the tracks with the two heavy carts had all of a sudden become irritating, everyone was growing tired of the mundane pace they were travelling at. Unfortunately the carts had been designed to travel across smooth floors, they were never meant for the rough terrain of train tracks. Despite the trouble the carts were causing them, both Kathy and Morgan refused to abandon them, their contents was just far too valuable.

  For a journey that could have been made on foot in less than ten minutes on the streets above them before the outbreak, this one took them an agonising four hours. Both Morgan’s and Jackson’s arms ached from the continuous vibrations of the carts wheels bouncing over the concrete sleepers as they were literally dragged along. To Morgan seeing the lights burning on the platforms edge must have felt something akin to how a desert nomad felt stumbling across a waterhole. They stopped five hundred meters from the platforms edge; the dirty yellow sign mounted to the wall above their heads told them so.

  Morgan turned to the group and said, “After what happened at Tower Hill, four of us will go in front and check the station out first. This time, no women will be allowed in the scout party.” Before Kathy could protest at her exclusion, Morgan shot out his hand to silence her. It had hurt him deeply, what she had been forced to do and he had no intentions of allowing it to happen again. He was immediately joined by Jackson and Sam, and the three stood waiting for Gerard. “I can’t leave Shanice on her own.” The engineer protested. “Don’t worry Gerard, I’ll take good care of her.” Letitia announced, her offer was so quick that it surprised some of the other women. After what she had been through, her time spent in the kitchen with the engineer had been much needed. In talking with him, she sensed he was a good man, and despite the outbreak he still had his faith, and that meant a lot to her. With Letitia’s offer in hand, Gerard felt he couldn’t refuse Morgan’s request. He stopped down to kiss Shanice on her cheek, and didn’t quite know how to react to the smile that he received from Letitia.

  The four men made their way through the remainder of the tunnel, with their rifles drawn, ready to use them at the slightest sign of trouble. Morgan had placed Sam and Gerard in the middle of the line, just in case they did need to act. Although Gerard had been taught by the soldiers, how to use his weapon he doubted Sam would have any idea how to use his at all. They approached cautiously, Morgan could already see movement ahead of them up in the distance. Two heads could clearly be seen, moving behind the barrier constructed of various materials. All four of them moved to the right and stayed tight to the wall knowing that the guards had a restricted view.

  Morgan suddenly held out his hand to signal to the others behind him to stay where they were. He first wanted to gauge what the two guard’s actions would be. “Come out? We know you are there.” A voice called from down the fifty meter stretch between them. The experienced soldier waited for their next move and chose to ignore their request. He waited for a few minutes, before surprising the rest with his best impression of a zombie moan. His moan was loud enough to carry down the length of the tunnel, and got the effect he was after. “Shit, there are strays in the tunnel again. We best take care of them.” One guard said loudly to the other.

  Immediately the sounds of two sets of footsteps crunching against the stone, travelled towards the four men. Morgan still had his hand raised, with his other hand he took one of the flash-bang grenades from his belt. Staying crouched down to the floor Morgan remained out of sight of the two approaching guards, but he could see them. When he was satisfied that the two guards were within range of the grenade, he pulled the pin on the device, and a second later he launched it towards the approaching men. Morgan turned towards his three counterparts and squinted to tell them to close their eyes. As the trio closed their eyes, a deafening bang was closely followed by a flash of bright light. The two men were caught totally unaware, and when they were blinded by the light they couldn’t help dropping their weapons.

  Morgan ran towards them as soon as their weapons hit the floor. He was on the men in mere seconds, giving them no time to react. Jackson was close behind Morgan, and both had the men restrained with cable ties before Gerard and Sam arrived at the scene. “What the fuck is this?” The redheaded guard shrieked as vision began to return in his eyes. “Calm down we just want a nights rest and safe passage.” Morgan spat back at him. “Funny way of showing it.” Commented the second, balding guard. “Excuse us for the way we’ve acted, but we had the dubious pleasure of meeting your friends at Tower Hill yesterday.” The Bald One sneered at Morgan, “They aren’t no friends of ours. We sent them there coz we couldn’t control the perverted fuckers here.” He told them. “That may be the case, but until I speak with your boss, you’re staying as you are.” Morgan replied, and then turned to the others, “Are we ready?” He asked them. When all three nodded Morgan told the two captive guards to stand, and start walking. “Time to go and see your boss.” He said as he prodded The Bald One in the back to move him forward.

  Black Forest, Germany, 21st July, 20:00 GMT

  The snapping of twigs nearby woke Hans from his sleep. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he glanced at the fluorescent hands on his watch, and realised that he must have nodded off to sleep, straight after his dinner. For the sound of the twig snapping to penetrate the constant roar of the small waterfall that separated Hans from the forest, it meant that whatever had made the noise had to be near.

  Instinctively he doused the small flames from his campfire and picked up the club he had carved from a Conifer branch and waited. In the past week he had seen more and more of the creatures, shuffling through the forest. He had even had to kill a few of them, when they got to close to him during the day. What he had learnt since taking the first one on, was that they could only be killed one way. On the third day of his yearly sabbatical in the famous Black Forest, he had come across the first monster as it shambled awkwardly through the dense trees. As it had approached him, Hans couldn’t take his eyes off its eaten arm. Sickeningly all of its skin and flesh had been stripped from the appendage, and the resulting blood loss should have proved fatal, yet it still walked towards him. Hans had quickly realised that the creature whatever it was, meant him harm. It’s expressionless, shark like eyes stared straight through him, but its teeth snapped as it blundered towards him, with its arms outstretched.

  After Hans had shouted his second warning at the lumbering cadaver that he would shoot, Hans had kept his word and pulled the trigger of his hunting rifle. The well-aimed shot ripped through the figures good shoulder, but all the shot achieved was to rock the frail figure backwards for a split second, and then it had continued forward. A second shot had rang from Hans’s rifle, this time hitting the creature’s thigh, it didn’t even flinch and still continued forward. Fear had clawed at Han’s, he wondered if he would be able to stop this thing of nightmares at all, his third shot hit the zombie in its heart and it still continued forward. In desperation and at nearly point blank range, Hans had just managed to pull off a fourth shot, which hit the creature in the centre of its forehead. Hans had vomited as the bullet left a gaping hole in the things skull, black fluid leaked out of the orifice, and then it stumbled and fell.

  Since that frightening introduction Hans had learnt not to fire the gun, it had to be rationed for emergencies. He had quickly found out that noise and movement attracted the creatures. As more and
more started appearing in the forest, making any kind of noise was out of the question. He had been camping in the forest when news of the outbreak first broke. Although he was now thirty four, Hans still loved to spend from the start of July, right through to the end of September out in the middle of the woods. In the winter he would carve wooden bears, cuckoo clocks and musical instruments to sell to his town’s stores, ready for the following summer tourist season. Every year his father had brought him out here to camp, he could still close his eyes and imagine his late father’s voice, reading him tales from The Grimm Brothers book. Even though the camp fire had always been lit, he could still imagine the chill he felt as a child reading stories, based upon monsters located in this very forest.

  The virus had taken its time reaching the town of Baden-Baden, it had spread across Europe in just under two days, and it was only down to the remoteness of some villages and towns that they didn’t witness the early atrocities first hand for a number of days. Blame for the virus being brought into the area had been cast upon the many survivors who had fled to the area. Initially some had arrived with infected family members or lovers, they were soon joined by hordes of the undead that were drawn to the area, from the nearest city.

  To start off with the town had taken in as many uninfected as they could provide for. When crowds started to gather in the streets, with no place to stay things became violent. The little timber fronted farmhouses had never been built to withstand an assault from scared and hungry people. Panic amped up the volatility, as the undead began to reanimate amongst those trapped on the streets, they soon broke down the doors, or fell in through smashed windows. Shortly after the riots had started the town ran out of food, and with no effectively secure shelter available, Baden-Baden was doomed to fall.