by Colley, Ryan
About halfway along the journey, I spotted a zombie. It was making its way up the road at a slow and shuffled pace. I dropped to my knees and hid while it passed. A wave of stench washed over me as it did so, and I began to think of how I would get the drop on it and kill it. The zombie got further and further away and I still had no way or plan to end it. Then it struck me as the zombie moved out of sight, I didn’t need to kill every zombie I saw. If I was always going into constant battle, I was sure to fall eventually. That epiphany made me realise I didn’t need to fight every battle I came across. I could simply let them breeze by me. I waited for the shuffling footsteps to be far enough away from me that I couldn’t hear them anymore before I continued.
I didn’t find another zombie the entire journey. At one point, I discovered an abandoned car on the road, which I thought would be perfect to take. I approached it slowly. If there were no keys, I would have to try and hotwire it. As I got closer, I realised that there was no chance of me driving the thing. One of the tyres looked as though it had been shredded and had continued on its rims; another wheel looked like it had buckled inwards. The front was smashed to pieces and completely inoperable. The finishing touch was the blood-smeared windscreen. The smears were on the inside. The car looked steamed up on all other windows, yet bloody handprints coated the inside of the front windows. Whatever had happened in the car, I didn’t need to see. The “Baby on Board” sign furthered that thought. That car was a no-go. I continued onwards to the petrol station.
I found the petrol station eventually. It was in a less than desirable area. It presided just on the inner edge of a small town in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure the town was lovely once upon a time, probably even belonged in a fairy-tale itself. It had old cobblestone streets in some areas, and most of the buildings looked pre-World War Two era. I would have loved to live there … if the world had never changed. Now it looked like a scene out of a horror film. Undead milled about the town as if they owned the place, which I suppose they did. Blood pooled along the lines between the cobblestones, creating a red outline for the old-fashioned brickwork. Cars were smashed up and many had crashed into each other. There were no dead bodies as far as I could see, but that was probably because they were still walking about. That was the problem with a town that small, the military didn’t consider it worth defending. As a result, it ended up like the one I was in. That wasn’t my concern however; my concern was finding a useable vehicle to use for the rest of my journey. From my initial look, many cars no longer looked drivable. Plus, there was an issue of keys. I knew I could hotwire a vehicle, but it was something I had never actually done. Just read how to do. My very first stop, however, was the petrol station. That was where I needed to go first of all. I needed supplies. I needed footwear.
I crept along the road, keeping close to the edge of the buildings. I slipped on the uneven and bloody cobblestones. The risk of twisting my ankle was worse without any form of footwear. I tried my best not to think about the congealed, cold blood pushing its way through my toes with every step. I would try to avoid every zombie that I could. An advantage of a small town was having so few residents and, thus, so few zombies. Sure they would be an issue if they all attacked at once, but I doubted they would. I kept skirting around the edges of buildings until I was in viewing range of the petrol station. There were six zombies wandering the area around the pumps. I could also see the doors were wide open and bloody trails led in, or out, of the building. That meant there could be undead in there too. A few zombies shambled along the streets around the petrol station also. I realised I could probably kill two birds with one stone. I needed supplies in the petrol station, but I also needed a vehicle. To my luck, there was a choice of vehicles left at the pumps. There was a large white van which belonged to some landscaping company, a motorbike with a bag attached to it, and a nifty little Ford Fiesta. If I could get the Fiesta, that would be brilliant; the motorbike was my next choice. Unfortunately, there were so many undead nearby. I couldn’t fight and kill them all, so I needed a plan. I shrunk back, out of sight, to think. I knew I needed to get the undead away from there, and the idea of getting them to chase me to pull them away came to mind. I quickly dismissed it as I didn’t have a plan for losing them once they had picked up the chase, but a distraction of some kind was definitely needed. I thought back over all my experiences, both pre- and post-apocalypse. I was in an urban environment. There was bound to be something I could use. As I crouched there deep in thought, my eyes fell on a mostly ruined car nearby. I smiled as a plan begun to form.
CHAPTER 35
I crept closer to the petrol station with an armful of wheel trims, which I had seized from the destroyed car. I crouched behind another car, which looked as if it had been abandoned where it stood when the occupant ran. I was out of sight from the undead, but I could see the undead clearly from beneath the car. They didn’t seem to follow any predetermined path as they wandered. They walked wherever took their fancy, swaying left and right and changing direction on a whim. A little further down a side street sat several cars. They were parked outside a few houses and didn’t look like they had been moved at all since the dead began to walk. The fact they hadn’t been moved was what my entire plan hinged on. I hefted a wheel trim in my hand. It wasn’t heavy but had just enough weight for what I needed it for. When I was confident the undead weren’t looking in my general direction, I flung the wheel trim like a Frisbee. It glided majestically through the air and towards the car and … missed. It was okay, I still had a few more to try. I threw another after I readjusted my aim. That one fell ever so slightly short. I threw the third one a lot harder but kept the same angle. It glided through the air faster than my previous attempts. I watched it eagerly as it glided towards the car. I held my breath … it hit home! Within seconds of contact, the car alarm sounded. It was a high-pitched squeal, designed to draw attention, and draw attention it did! The moment the alarm sounded, I dropped to my stomach and looked beneath the car. I watched the undead slowly turned towards the direction of the alarm. They began to shamble towards it, leaving the petrol station completely free of undead. I made my way around the car and moved towards the station whilst crouching. As I passed the pumps, I checked each vehicle for keys. Not a single one had any in, or around, them. The van had a fuel pump sticking out of it still, but that wasn’t useful to me. I headed inside the petrol station.
The inside of the petrol station didn’t have any lights on, but the dimmed light outside was still enough to see by. There was an intense stench in the store: the smell of death. The store consisted of a till to the immediate left when you walked in and three long aisles that reached to the back of the store. I could see from the door that most of the shelves had been emptied of its goods. There were a few loose tins, which I assumed someone had dropped when they tried to make a quick exit. I also noticed an excessive amount of gore and bloody smears everywhere. It looked as if it had been a killing zone as the undead trapped the living in there. I slowly walked deeper into the store, leaving bloody footprints as I went. I grabbed a plastic carrier bag and proceeded around the aisles; at least I didn’t need to pay for the bag! I scooped up a few stray cans which were on the floor. It didn’t matter what they were, but it was food. I carried on around the store, finding very little as I did so. A bottle of water here, some bandages there, a tub of vapour rub. Before meeting Peters, I wouldn’t have picked it up. It was an odd mix, but I stuffed everything I found into the bag. In the third aisle, I saw a body lying there, back twisted at an unnatural angle, which explained the horrific smell. As I got closer, I could see it was the body of the man who owned the motorbike outside. I don’t often go on stereotypes, but the man wore a leather jacket with some sort of insignia stitched on the back. He had a greying beard and looked like he would punch you rather than talk. He was definitely the owner of the motorbike. If he was in the store, and his ride was outside, then that probably meant he had the keys on him! There was a mess of congealed b
lood around the body, but no sign of a head wound. He could have still been a zombie. I grimaced. I didn’t want to do it. I crept closer and could see the keys in his clenched hand. He also had some lovely, heavy-looking, leather boots on. I crouched and undid the laces, tugging the boots loose. I didn’t remove his socks for fear that his rotten flesh would coat the lining of them. I slipped the moist boots on and shuddered. They were a couple sizes too small but I couldn’t complain, considering the situation. Next, I breathed in and pushed my newly booted foot onto his head and nudged him with it. At the moment of contact, the man reacted. He thrashed about wildly and snarled, almost throwing me off instantly. I regained my balance and slammed my other foot down onto the hand with the keys. I heard bones crunch under the impact. His wrist hung limply and he released the keys. His damaged back probably meant that he couldn’t feel me touch his legs! I quickly scooped up the keys and made my way to the front.
I ran out of the store and straight to the motorbike; it was the type known as a chopper. It had a stretched, styled frame and a high back on the seat. The handles were high and the seat was low. I enjoyed the thought of riding it. I would look so cool! I looked at my surroundings. There were no undead around, so it was perfect. I climbed onto the motorbike and stuck the key in. A perfect fit. I grinned and turned the key. The engine roared to life. I was about to turn the throttle when I noticed the fuel gauge. It was bordering on empty. I felt so goddamn stupid! Why else would the motorbike be there! I heard an excited snarl nearby; I had alerted the undead with the engine’s rumble. I quickly turned it off. I had probably ninety seconds, at most, before the undead were on me. I dived off the motorbike and ran for the pump. I saw the pumps still had life in them. The electronic sign was on at least, and I thanked the Gods. I grabbed one of the hand pumps and pulled the nozzle to the motorbike. I stuck it into the hole for the fuel and pulled the trigger. Fuel poured into the tank. It just didn’t seem to come out fast enough! I could hear feet pounding on the street as the undead came around the corner. I had run out of time. I stuck the cap back over the tank and climbed onto the motorbike. I gave a last glance towards the store and saw the undead biker crawl out of the front door. His legs left a gory trail as he did so. Part of me wondered, for the briefest of moments, if any part of him felt insulted about someone else riding his motorbike. The dead look in his eyes suggested not. I restarted the engine and pulled the throttle. The motorbike tore away at an immense speed. It was only then I remembered something very important … I didn’t actually know how to ride a motorbike.
TAO OF SAM – MEDICINE: THE BASICS
Medicine is going to be useful for many things. Get your hands on the higher-end stuff, like prescription antibiotic tablets and painkillers. They will be in high demand and in short supply. Keep hold of antibiotics for your own use. Painkillers and other medicine will work like currency in the new world; people will trade for it.
Next, get specialist stuff, like diabetes medication. It will be useful for those you know who need it. Make sure you grab inhalers for me also! Remember, those are trade-worthy items also.
Finally, grab as much over the counter medicine as possible. It won’t be the best stuff, but it is comforts like throat lozenges and paracetamol which will make the world more bearable.
Bandages and other pieces of first aid equipment will be useful too. Having a decent and fully equipped first aid kit could save your life.
If you can get your hands on medical equipment of other kinds, such as heart monitors or defibrillators, do it. Who knows when it will come in handy? It isn’t worth a risk on your life for it though. Don’t go searching for it.
CHAPTER 36
I rode along steadily with the wind blowing through my hair. The sunlight was beautiful and I could almost forget that, the previous day, I had narrowly escaped death. I had driven away from the fuel station, albeit, doing a terrible job. I was uncertain of how to ride the motorbike. If I moved slowly, I felt I would fall off, but I found it went just fine the faster I went. I would worry about stopping when it came to it.
When I had gotten far enough from the small town and there were no undead around, I decided to do an inventory of what I had. First things first was stopping. I slowed and carried on slowing. I wobbled erratically before I realised I need to put my foot down to stop and balance. Once I had stopped, I took a deep breath and sighed. I was fairly certain that the motorbike was a death-trap. I started my inventory. I knew what I had from the store, but I didn’t know what was in the bag on the motorbike. It was the sort of bag which had parts on either side of the seat: a saddle bag. On one side, it was rammed with different medications. Everything from painkillers, to antibiotics, antibacterial gel to antiseptic bandages. I had found quite the haul. I sifted through it in disbelief. On the other side were tins of food, bottles of water, a torch, and a set of binoculars. I hadn’t replaced everything I had lost to the military, but I was almost there! There was also a revolver with a small box of ammo. There were no rounds in the gun, which I quickly rectified. Riding around with an unloaded gun was what would get people killed! I found a small transceiver radio. I also found something else unexpected. I almost left it alone when I first noticed it, but there was a handle sticking out from behind the bag. I thought it was something to do with the motorbike. I pulled at it anyway and it came out with a metal on metal scraping sound. I realised it was, in fact, an extremely sharp and unused machete. I stared at it with some glee; it was definitely what I needed. The owner of the bike was obviously very well-prepared for the apocalypse, but not prepared enough, apparently.
From there, nightfall came fairly quickly. Darkness spread around me, and I had nowhere to go. I needed to sleep, but I was out in the open. I carried on driving until inspiration hit. I found an abandoned car, which I checked the inside of, flashlight in one hand and my new machete in the other. It was empty. No signs of anyone. The car didn’t look like it had any reason to be abandoned either. I noticed a fuel can on the passenger’s seat and grabbed at it greedily, hoping to take it; it was empty. Lack of fuel probably brought an end to that driver. I was thankful though, as the car would be my bed for the night. I climbed in, shut the doors, and sealed the windows. I brought my saddle bags into the car with me for safekeeping. I laid on the back seat, machete never too far, and fell asleep.
I had a peaceful and uneventful sleep. It was amazing. Another night that I didn’t dream, which was strange for me. I got up to a beautiful day. A perfect day for the last stretch of my journey. I was nervous, of course I was, but all previous bad thoughts stayed deep within me. I climbed on my motorbike and drove towards the county of Essex. The road sign claimed it was only five miles away. I had qualms about travelling the world with no helmet. The human body was so fragile, after all. I knew that my chances of a collision were slim. I just had to worry about my own driving ability.
CHAPTER 37
There it was. Essex. I was technically already in Essex, but things changed when the dead rose. The outskirts of the county had been abandoned and people in the outer districts moved inwards. It was an attempt make a more defendable area. An entire county was impossible to defend, but individual districts with established borders were much easier. That was because urban areas have naturally formed defences which the military could take advantage of. The military had set up blockades on all the roads in and out of those areas. They monitored everything. It was, so to say, the “shining example” of how a county should defend itself from an undead threat. In retrospect, it was a shame that Essex didn’t have more time; they may have actually pulled it off.
Between the blockades, construction of a giant wall had been started. They had planned for the wall to encompass the districts; the military would man its walls at all hours. They would have an overview of everything and nothing would get through. The idea, I guess, was inspired by medieval castles. I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear a moat was being made with a drawbridge for access. The idea of the wall was to cut Esse
x off from anyone else and for Essex to become fully self-sufficient. The rest of the world could just burn and the United Kingdom would have its own little state protecting itself. I read a lot about the plans of the city in the early days. The rest of the UK heard very little about its other counties; for morale, I suppose. The government and local councils tried to sell the new ideas as exciting to the people. Like the green initiative. Like every initiative, it was met with mixed results. Many people claimed that they would be trapped and that they didn’t want to live in a Big Brother state. There were protests because of it.
“I was born in 1984,” people exclaimed. “I don’t want to die in it.”
That became the slogan: “Live today, not 1984.” As much as the whole situation was blown out of proportion, the media stayed oddly quiet about it all. Maybe the government's hand was forced to stop mass panic?
The wall initiative happened anyway. They tried to make it a community effort. Every citizen of Essex, every refugee from other cities, had to help erect metal fabrications. I don’t know why, though. Even with everyone putting up the wall’s pieces, the wall would never be finished in time. Did they seriously underestimate how much work was required? Perhaps they hoped people would get more involved once they started. Unfortunately, people are lazy. The wall was never finished. I knew that because I could see the wall from where I stood with my binoculars. All uncompleted three sheets of it. The most it would stop were the seeing-impaired; the undead would have no problem walking around it.
Something else about the whole situation worried me. Not that the wall wasn’t finished, but that the wall wasn’t being worked on. What was even more worrying was that I couldn’t see any movement at the blockade either. I squinted through my binoculars, trying to see the slightest hint of movement. Nothing. The place looked dead. Dead as in quiet, not dead as in flesh-eating. I leaned over to the radio transmitter that I had scavenged and turned it on. I then cycled through the radio waves looking for some kind of signal. Nothing but static. No military broadcasts. No regular broadcasts. Just utter silence. I picked up the transmitter and clicked it on so that I could broadcast.
