Outbreak

by A L Carter

  There was also a vent in the door used for speaking through so Jenkins spoke through it, "Good morning over there."

  He waited for a reaction and eventually the man turned around. It certainly wasn't what he expected, the man shuffled towards the door grey-faced and eyes misted over making a deathly moaning noise. Jenkins had seen a lot in his career but nothing that gave him this feeling of dread.

  "The man is a zombie," the words surprised himself.

  "That'll be the booze sir," came Jones chuckling reply.

  "No, the man is a zombie," he reaffirmed.

  Jones looked through the glass and studied the overnight guest.

  Turning towards Jenkins he said, "It certainly looks that way doesn't it sir."

  Jenkins nodded grimly thinking what a strange conversation and moved to the next cell. This one was directly pressed against the glass growling and snapping his teeth. He jumped back in shock and revulsion. Then stood transfixed, the thing had appeared to have bit its own lip off as it hung down torn and bloody.

  Jones stood at his side, "Ugly bleeder isn't he?"

  "Can you speak?" Jenkins requested of the thing feeling stupid even though he was trying to rationalize the situation.

  All that came back was more growling and his friend in the other cell accompanied by moaning having reached the glass as well.

  "Yes I think you were right first time zombies," Jones exclaimed.

  They decided to leave well alone for now and returned to the main desk. Jones called all units again but to no avail. Jenkins picked up the phone and rang Leicester police headquarters but had to listen to a recorded message telling him that they were receiving a record number of calls and to try again later. He dialled direct to the superintendent's office, but the phone just continued to ring. Jones picked up the other phone and tried different police headquarters, Birmingham, Coventry, and Loughborough. Jenkins tried Burton, Swadlincote and Hinckley offices. Neither was having any Luck. The radios were tried again all to no avail.

  "How could this be happening, sir?" Jones puzzled.

  Jenkins had seen countless zombie films, Ann didn't approve but he loved them. Pure fantasy and escapism, or so he thought. The way whole cities could be overrun in no time. One biting multiple people and they to biting others thus multiplying on a rapid scale. It could not be could it, but it certainly appeared that way. The government and news really was downplaying the seriousness of this virus outbreak.

  "Chief Inspector Jones I do believe either I'm going mad or we have a zombie apocalypse on our hands," he said.

  Ann Jenkins woke not too long after her husband, which was unusual for her as she normally lay in on her days off from her job as a teaching assistant working part-time at the local school. She read the letter left for her while she ate a slice of toast and quickly disregarded it. Grabbing her keys she headed for the car, Roger was always so overprotective. What could be so bad after all and with that she accelerated away towards Ashby, Tesco's would be open first and then the town?

  Jenkins concerned for his wife's safety decided to ring home, so what if it put her in a bad mood by waking her. He listened as the house phone kept ringing until it eventually rang off. Ann would always pick up the house phone, which meant she had already left the house to go shopping. Obviously, she had ignored his letter and decided to go anyway. Jones had a look of concern in his face. He then dialled her mobile it rang and rang, but of course, she would not answer while driving. This was the one time that he would not mind her breaking the law.

  He looked at Jones, "I know that this is unprofessional Jones but I have to try to rescue the silly cow."

  “Quite right sir but be careful,” Jones agreed as Jenkins departed.

  Ann travelled towards Tesco's, oblivious to the several ditched cars on the way. She beeped the horn at a car that had simply stopped to make out at the side of the road. The woman was, in fact, eating the man's face off, but Ann missed this detail. It struck her the road was empty for this time of the morning, and then she passed another badly parked car in the road. At Ashby roundabout, some idiot had driven their car onto the island, appearing abandoned with the door wide open. She turned left then. Right into Tesco and passed a group of people who appeared to be in some sort of altercation? Then drove on into the car park she would let the security staff know what she had seen. The car park was relatively empty so she parked near the entrance, exited the car and noticed a few people milling around aimlessly. What was today anyway, the day of the idiots?

  Jenkins was speeding; he had taken his own car, which did not have sirens. He could have done with one of them that were magnetized and you could stick it to the roof like the old Starsky and Hutch shows. Going up to ninety miles an hour he passed several roadside incidents, he should have stopped but the world seemed to have gone to shit anyway. Suspecting that she would go straight for Tesco's as it was open and gambling that she had got this far and was not stuck somewhere closer to home. He tried her phone again breaking all road laws, but no answer.

  "Silly cow," he moaned.

  Ann walked into the store, surprised that there was no security near the entrance. In fact, there was no one there, which was odd. However, this did not stop her she grabbed a trolley and prepared to shop. She tossed things into the trolley getting into the zone looking for bargains. Looking around she started to see other customers, which was a relief as she was beginning to think that she should not be there. Then realized that they wandering around like drunkards with no trolley or no basket. She cut down another aisle to avoid them but came across others working herself deeper into the store. The next aisle she turned and walked into something from her worst nightmare a man shambled towards her holding what appeared to be a severed arm. Which he chewed on blood covering his face and t-shirt, looking up from his meal he was suddenly more interested in her. But he didn't really seem like a man any more, more like a grotesque fiend. It was then she let out a piercing scream and involuntarily lost her breakfast. Forgetting her trolley, she turned and ran in a blind panic nearly tripping over an abandoned basket. Running for the exit shouting for help and screaming as she dodged several of the things, then she saw it the exit, which appeared to be clear. She had nearly made it, perhaps that's what Roger had been on about and he was right she should have stayed at home. Making it outside side she saw a security guard his back was directed at her, finally, he would know what to do, surely?

  Jenkins screeched into Tesco's car park swerving around several of the things not wanting to damage the car. As he neared the entrance, he saw her car and then he saw her and the zombie security guard she was heading towards.

  She slowed then walked over to the guard, she did not even turn to look as the car came towards her and skidded to a halt. Maybe it was the shock of the situation but she reached the guard who turned around in one fluid motion and tore her throat out.

  Jenkins was already out of the car baton raised but could see to his dismay that he was already too late. The undead bastard tore into his wife's throat leaving a huge hole and showered blood that reached high into the air. Within seconds, he knew her lifeblood had left her, and then her body fell backwards head contacting the pavement first. Which in turn smashed open like a coconut splattering blood and brains everywhere.

  "You murdering zombie bastard?" he screamed like a war cry.

  He ran at the fiend, cracking the baton down hard. Its skull gave satisfyingly and blood oozed from the top of its head. It went down hard with a wet smack. The thing appeared dead but he was not done yet and proceeded in destroying its head and face until there was no head left, just pulp.

  He stood over his wife getting his breath under control, tears streaming down his face, "Why were you such a stupid cow?"

  Chapter 6

  Mick gang

  Almost the same time Jenkins was trying to save his wife Mick was driving his pucker range rover to pick up a friend. Mick was six foot six and 'built like a brick shit house' a phrase he had heard
his dad use. His dad had spent most of his life in and out of prison mainly for crimes of violence and as far as Mick was concerned, times had been better when he was inside. He had had some severe beating's himself as a kid one of the worst he could remember when he was seven years old. His dad was pissed as usual and had already belted mum so she had made herself scarce. So he shouted me over to get him a can of lager. It was always super strength and always came before food or there was trouble. Well, he goes to the fridge and pulls one from the plastic rings the can was too big for one of his small hands to hold at the time as it slipped from his hands and bounced on the floor. He remembered how he froze at the time listening to whether his dad had heard, the sound of the football crowd played on the telly covering his tracks. In hindsight now why didn't he just put that one back and try another can, open it on the floor maybe. But you never think of these things at the time do you, especially at that age. He then carried the can into his waiting father.

  "What kept you little bastard?" he admonished snatching the can off him.

  Then he pulled the ring and lager geysered up into the air. As a boy this appeared to happen in slow motion, his dad's mouth wide open in shock. The lager then started it's decent and landed all over his father soaking him. Then all hell broke loose.

  "Come here you little cunt,” he shouted pure hatred in his eyes.

  A long arm reached out like a monster all of its own and grabbed his hair and dragged the boy through the air feet dangling. His dad then continued to hold his hair while he rained punches on him. His father even took time out to finish his fag, which was smouldering in the ashtray at his side, which he stubbed out on his cheek. When he was done, he just slung the boy across the floor to fall into unconsciousness. Later he remembered waking up in bed, not knowing how long it had been since his beating. His mum sat over him worried expression on her face as she applied a cold flannel to his face. This hurt a lot and he felt dizzy and sick, but strangely, he remembered thinking that he should be in a hospital like in the TV shows. Then, of course, people would bring him sweets and Lucozade, he loved -that stuff. Then he was a sleep again, awake and mam worrying. This cycle kept going on but he wasn't sure whether it was hours or days even, but still no hospital or sweets. Until one time he woke up to a doctor shining a light in his eyes. He seemed angry and was shouting at mum. The boy tried to stick up for her but everything went black again. Anyway, he did finally wake up in the hospital but there were no sweets or mum. Even weeks later when he felt much better, just this woman who came a told me my parents were bad and they would put me in a new home where no one would hurt me. He had protested telling her loved his mum and she didn't hurt him but the woman would have none of it. Then that was it he spent his next seven years of life in the care system. Care system that was a joke, there was always some pervert or a bigger kid trying to hurt him. He didn't like that so he started to defend himself, getting tougher every day. But then he was told that he was a bad kid and this stuck with him everywhere he went. At first, he hated it but eventually, he began to enjoy it. He became the bully. Fewer people tried to pick on him and those that did suffered. He became better at getting away with it as well, better at lying, better at being bad, well they labelled him first didn't they? Then his mam came to visit him out the blue and he remembered asking her where she had been all this time? She told him that it wasn't her fault that social services had taken him into child protection services and she wasn't allowed to see him until now. He then asked about his father. She changed slightly talking about this with fear in her eyes. Apparently, he had spent a lot of time in prison for GBH and theft mainly, but ironically, he never got in trouble for beating him? Because of a Lack of evidence, he had always been brought up not to grass so well when anyone ever asked him what had happened to him he would say that he fell. Of course, mum would never tell either, she dare not for the consequences. So it made sense that he got away with that. Then apparently the last time he got out of prison he went off with a young tart. She then announced that he could come home with him soon as the social services deemed her a fit mum again. In addition, she had a new man in her life and he had a house in the country. He remembered at feeling shocked by all this news and he had gotten used his life in care. Nonetheless decided that this should be great, but he wouldn't take any shit from this new man if he started. A few months later at fourteen now he moved back in with mam and this new man. He was not a bit like dad, being polite and spoke to him like a man. However, he kept his guard up; he had learned that trust does not come easily. He lived in a place called Coalville, which is a town in the country, in a reasonable area. Certainly different from where he had lived before in a rough estate in the middle of Leicester. Eventually, he got used to his mam’s new man who seemed care for her not that he really understood these things. He attended the local school and soon got a few like-minded mates and they soon dominated the other kids. Eventually, years passed and he now seventeen and in that time his mam had divorced and remarried this new man William. Mick did not have a job but this did not mean that he had no money. He dealt drugs locally and he did not care what it was either and whose life it destroyed. Well he was not stupid enough to take the shit was he, and his closest mates were of the way of thinking. They liked to get pissed though and smoke weed but that was different. Even the older lads feared them on the manor. He supposed it helped that he was a big bastard even then. Things were going well, mum and William seemed happy. He always paid his way by slipping his mum plenty of cash and she never asked where it came from. But he was sure William suspected something but never saying anything though. Mick knew he feared him but he was safe as long as he never hurt mam.

  Strangely, it happened on his eighteenth-birthday dad showed up. Mick was not there though as he was out with the lads getting wasted, only to return home later to find his mam in tears on the stairs.

  "Did William hurt you mam?" he demanded.

  "No he had a heart attack," she sobbed.

  Then she relayed how dad had shown up as if out of nowhere announcing that he was going to be moving in, drunk of course. Well that was when William came to the rescue, well tried to anyway, having a go at my dad. However, it was too much for him and he ended up dropping dead of a heart attack on the spot. Well, my dad just laughed and made himself scarce, but still telling my mam that he would back. His dad would have known that he couldn't get in trouble for this as it was natural causes. Then of course if there was an investigation, but mam, of course, wouldn't say anything about the altercation with dad. Mick had not felt fear in years; he had hardened over the years. But he felt fear now, and this made him angry with himself.

  They had not long buried William when dad returned as promised. Mick was out doing business and when he returned home where he was sitting in the armchair nearest the TV drinking a can of lager, his chair, and his lager.

  "Welcome home son, like old times isn’t it,” he grinned coldly.

  Moreover, it was like reliving that night, the last night he saw his father. Things had come full circle and he felt like a child again.

  "Cat got your tongue son?" he gloated, having fun.

  "Errrr, yeeaah, I mean hello dad,” Mick stuttered.

  His mam came in at this point, maybe to calm the situation, "I've got your dinner, Mick".

  "Can I take it upstairs I don't feel very well?" he asked.

  "Yes of co..." she started to reply.

  "You'll fucking eat down here with your family!" dad commanded.

  "Okay," Mick replied defeated and sat down with the tray.

  So even with all the times, he had imagined this reunion where he had stood up to his father, in the here and now he had failed and he felt ashamed of himself.

  Days then weeks passed like this with his dad bullying him, humiliating him and demanding money. Mick became a shadow of his former self, not in stature but he lost his edge nobody feared him and some had started taking liberties with him. That was until he arrived home one day; dad
was in his usual position lager in hand. Mam wasn't about which was strange because she always greeted him when he came home.

  "Where's mam?" he said quietly.

  "Speak up boy!" dad growled.

  "Where's mam," Louder this time

  "I think she's got a migraine, she needed a lie-down," he explained sniggering.

  Mick shot upstairs.

  He found mam in bed; the light was off so he could not see much. "Mam, you alright?" speaking softly.

  "Yes son don't worry I just need some rest is all," she replied with a frail and wheezy voice.

  He almost left the room but suddenly something stirred in him. Turning on the light and walking straight in. The blanket covered her face.

  "Mam I need to see," he asked.

  He waited until eventually, she lowered the covers. Her face was bruised purple, one eye swollen shut, blood was around her mouth and her arms they were red and bruised.

  "Sorry son". She wheezed.

  It sounded like he had broken her ribs as well.

  "I'll be back soon mam," he promised.

  He turned and left the room shutting the door behind him. A fire burnt within him, this built into pure white-hot rage. He slowly descended the stairs and stood before his father, who looked up grinning. Slowly the grin became a look of fear and he stood to face his son in a sudden attempt to intimidate him. It failed as Mick dwarfed his father in both height and size. His huge hand grabbed his father's hair then holding him up like that, he proceeded to punch his father's face. His nose broke, eyes blackened, lips burst and then he broke his ribs. He mirrored what he had done to him all those years ago then tossed him aside like a rag doll. Later when he returned from nursing his mam he was gone, hopefully never to return again because he knew would kill him.

  Now he was twenty-five and nobody ever took the piss and got away with it. The radio news interrupted his thoughts bringing him back to the here and now. It was going on about mass riots around the world, sounded like fun to him. But he liked his music so he played one of his playlists lose yourself by Eminem boomed out the speakers. He pulled up outside of Tommy's house and gave the hooter a blast, then out he came lanky hair slicked back with gel he got in the back seat.