by A L Carter
“All right Mick?" he asked.
"All right Tommy you wanker," Mick replied.
"Some shit going down on the news Mick?” He exclaimed.
"Some bollocks more like it, sick of hearing about it," Mick moaned.
It went quiet for a bit and they listened to the sounds until they pulled outside another house. Eventually, a short stocky looking man came out blonde hair in a crew cut he pulled the front door open taking that seat.
"How do mouse," Mick said.
"Russ," Tommy greeted.
Only Mick could get away with calling the half Russian, mouse. Mouse was actually short for mighty mouse. He had been training in several forms of martial arts since he was seven years old and now competed in MMA and never lost once. To say the least, he was one hard bastard that never backed down and Mick classed him as second in command. He was a man of few words sitting their stern-faced, as always with an unreadable poker face. They had soon picked up the rest of the lads, Desmond who was mixed race, with quite a posh accent, and Dave who had the gift of the gab and always had a theory on most subjects.
"I'm telling you lads this shits going to get real fast, fucking zombies it’s going to be zombies!" Dave informed.
They all laughed except mouse of course just looked ahead.
"Bloody hell Dave it's always some serious shit with you, then fuck all happens," Mick noted. "But zombies give me a break?"
"I'm telling you man this time it's going to be zombies," he said confidently.
"That shits just in the movies," Tommy explained seemingly an authority on the subject.
Mick pulled up the range rover in front of a terraced house and dialled a number on his phone.
"What's up Mick?" he voice said at the other end of the phone.
"Don’t fuck me around with me Lee, time to pay up," Mick informed.
"Oh... Errr... I thought it was next week Mick?" Lee said feigning confusion.
"Don't start that shit with me you cunt, do I have to send in Russ to have a word I'm sure he'd enjoy a workout?" he threatened.
"Oh yeah sorry Mick my mistake I'll be right out," Lee blustered.
He quickly came out and was at the car window with a wedge of cash.
"Better not be short or I'll be back," he informed as he drove away.
This continued all morning, cash increasing, first counted by Tommy then stashed in a drawstring bag.
Eventually, they came to their last pick up, Mick dialling their number. This rang off several times much to his frustration.
"Mouse go a have a word with the cunt," He asked.
Mouse was at the door in no time, banging hard with his fist. After a few minutes of this, the door flew back off its hinges as a kick was applied.
"This could be interesting," Tommy exclaimed as he started filming with his phone, the lads looking on eagerly.
It wasn't long before they got their entertainment as the upstairs window shattered outwards along with the body of the ignorant dealer, landing with a sickening smack on the concrete slabs at the front of the house. Everyone went quiet for a moment as if to let this sink in.
"Fucking hell he's gone and fucking killed him, how's he going to pay now?" Mick moaned getting out the car.
The others followed as they stood around the dealer gobsmacked, but suddenly the body started to move.
"That's handy he's still alive," Tommy noted.
The dealer flailed around seeming to be trying to get up on limbs that were clearly broken, especially with his leg tucked up behind his back like that. Mouse suddenly appeared at their side, straight-faced as usual.
"Fucking hell Mouse, what did he do to you, didn't try to shag you did he?” Mick asked.
"Nah he tried to bite me," He explained.
As if on cue the dealer looked up at everyone snapping his teeth, face grey, and eyes misted over.
"Fucking told you, he's a zombie," Dave stated triumphantly.
They all looked at Dave then back at the dealer who was going wild trying to get up which was nigh on impossible with one leg up your back.
"He does look like a zombie," Desmond announced.
"It fucking is!" Dave confirmed.
It moaned and growled diving for Tommy's leg as if to back up his point. Tommy back stepped as if to agree with this. They all did the same getting out of range.
"What do we do boss, we could get in the shit over this?" Desmond worried.
There was total quiet between them as they stared at the thing as it did its pitiful moaning. Them Tommy started laughing, beginning with girly giggle then building to full blown hysterical laughter. Maybe it was to do with the stress of the situation like a coping strategy in times of Crisis but it began to become contagious. Until all but Mouse were roaring with laughter tears rolling down their cheeks. But Mouse's stony face just seemed to make it worse, just making them laugh harder.
"It is fucking funny though," Tommy blustered red-faced holding his ribs as they began to ache.
"Heads up looks like another one," Mouse informed tipping his head in that direction.
A man approached wearing a dressing gown which was hanging open at the front and he was naked underneath.
"Fucking hell where's his fucking Nob gone?” Dave wondered pointing as if to emphasize the matter.
Indeed it was missing its penis, just a red stump showed and blood down its legs.
"Unlucky bastard," Mick sympathized.
They continued laughing as it shambled towards them seemingly oblivious to the potential danger. The thing suddenly lurched forward at Mouse, who responded with a well-placed roundhouse kick to the side of its head, landing with a heavy thud. It stumbled for a moment then landed face first on top of dealer zombie, groin area directly in its face. Both zombies writhed and moaned.
"Might as well get this action while I’m at it," Tommy said as he resumed filming with his phone.
"Yes there’s bound to be a niche for this sort of thing," Dave encouraged, creating more laughter.
"Right lads I think we should leave these two lovebirds to it, they seem to be drawing a crowd," Mick said indicating an increasing number of zombies heading this way.
They began to make their way to the car, wiping sore red eyes and when they were all in Mick sped away swerving around more zombies.
Eventually, he composed himself and said, "Dave mate I think you were right."
After all the laughing it seemed to dawn on them the seriousness of the matter. They passed more on the way and people being attacked, even an ambulance crew being eaten by the people they no doubt came to help. At one point they came across a lonely copper who was cornered by zombies, Mick pulled over but keeping back so as not to draw attention to themselves. The copper pushed them away and lashed out with his baton but he was fighting a losing battle.
"He's doing it all wrong he needs to smash their heads in," Dave criticized.
"What do you reckon lads should we help?" Mick said.
Mouse looked at him like he had just sided with the enemy and the rest gave a combined no way.
"They never help me none even when Nan got beat up," Tommy informed.
"Yeah agreed," Mick replied.
"Fitted me up, fucking wankers," Said Desmond.
"Maybe if it was a bird," Dave pondered.
"Took my stash of weed, bet they smoked it as well," Tommy revealed sorrowfully.
Mick looked at Mouse who just scowled back. He himself had countless run-ins with the police admittedly some warranted but often not, abusing their power as usual. Some were as corrupt as us criminal's or worse. At that point, the copper seemed to have noticed them and shouted in their direction.
"Hey you over there please help me!" the copper shouted.
"Hey up it's the ginger cunt, Bolton," Tommy announced.
They all started shouting out the windows, Mouse even poked his head out the sunroof, interest piqued, suddenly chants of "Your going down you ginger cunt" came from the lads who were enjoyin
g this.
"I know you lot, I'll have you for this you bastards!" He shouted.
That's all he managed as a zombie suddenly tore out his throat, a wet squeal escaping from his mouth. Then suddenly he was lost under a mass of zombies. The lads let out a cheer of victory.
"Well that shut the filthy him up," Tommy surmised.
With that, Mick set off again, surprised at how quickly he and the lads seemed to accept the situation, zombies and death now normality. Then becoming annoyed at himself for not thinking and worry came into his mind. It was time to get to mam’s so he put his foot down.
Five minutes later he was outside his mam’s house, the lads picking up on the change of mood. In seconds he had opened, the front door and disappeared inside leaving the door open behind him. They all instinctively followed piling in behind him filling the hallway.
"Mam, you alright!" calling into the house, with a desperate edge to his Voice.
Silence for a moment then. "I'm okay son just in the bathroom; I'll be down in a minute and I’ll fix you working lads something to eat".
Relief swept over his face, everything was as normal she was used to him bringing all the lads back about this time for something to eat, which she said she loved to do. Strangely he realized that he had an appetite even with all that had happened. The lads seemed to agree, Mick turned on the TV and crashed in his chair, the lads crashing were they could. It had seemed like a really long day but in fact, it was only just gone one o'clock. On the TV the newsreader went on about a virus spreading across the UK, Europe, and America. The virus apparently made the person aggressive to others and passing on the infection. People were encouraged to stay in their homes and to keep calm until authorities had the situation under control.
"Yeah like that's going to happen," Dave scoffed.
On the TV the news ended and normal programs resumed, which happened to be doctors the daytime soap. Mick relaxed further into his chair, things actually were beginning to feel more normal. The lads started to jeer with laughter taking the mickey out of the show, finding innuendo in everything. Mick secretly enjoyed the show and often watched it with his mam, but allowed them to have this outlet. After all the day had been a stressful one, to say the least. With all the banter and being involved in the show, he failed to hear footsteps on the stairs, clumsy and uncoordinated. Nobody heard the stumble at the bottom of the stairs or the knocking over an ornament on the telephone table.
Desmond sat enjoying the show; today’s events seemed far away. The laughing had made his eyes water and he wiped them with his sleeve. Then he heard the familiar moaning sound coming from the doorway, but before he could react, she was upon him. Her body writhed on top of him and found his cheek, biting down and tearing away a large chunk of flesh. Desmond let out a high pitched squeal of both agony and fear. Mam just chewed on the flesh like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Everyone just looked on transfixed, unable to accept what was going on. It was like up until now these things were happening to other people and not them. Coming here had always been an escape, a sanctuary. The mam thing swallowed her first bite and went in seconds. Which Desmond was not happy about, so he tried to stop with his open hand. Unfortunately for him seemed to be an offering of food, so she greedily bit off three of his fingers and began chewing on them.
"Help me!" he pleaded in agony, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Still no reaction and no help coming. So he started lashing out wildly raining punches on her, screaming the whole time. She continued chewing seemingly unhurt and unfazed. Eventually, he managed to push her off and she fell to the floor. Desmond just screamed hysterically while watching bits of himself being eaten.
Over in the armchair, Mick looked on confused at what was going on, but suddenly recognition hit him. Dad was back again and he was laying into mam again like he always used to do. Rage built in him blocking every other thought out. Well, this would be the last time that he laid a finger on her and with that, he was up and on top of him. His huge hands circled his father's throat and he began squeezing the life out of him. He watched the man's eyes bug out and lips turned blue. It would not be long now until life left this man. Then all of he felt his own consciousness fading until it eventually faded to black.
Light began to come back to Mick as he came out of unconsciousness, which was inflicted by Mouse who had put him in a guillotine choke to diffuse the situation. Mouse had deduced that it was the safest way of bringing the big man under control, there would be no lasting damage. They had however tied him to a chair as a precaution. Opposite him at the other end of the room and likewise tied up sat his mam who continued to growl and snap her teeth, but posed no threat for now. Desmond lay on the sofa but restrained and moaning in agony.
"How you doing Mick, sorry we had to do this to you but you'd probably have killed us all," Tommy explained sincerely.
Mick tried to focus, but the room spun, so he closed his eyes again for about a minute. Slowly he began to open them seemingly better this time. He tried to organize his memories to make sense of what was happening.
"Mam... Dad attacked her I had to stop him," he blurted.
"No I'm sorry Mick, it wasn't your dad," Tommy informed sadness in his eyes.
"But mam what happened to mam?” panic in his voice.
None of them had ever seen him like this before, but they all knew how much she meant to him. Mick looked across the room and for the first time realization dawned on him. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and he knew he would be changed forever.
"Tell me what happened?" he asked calmly.
They all helped to explain what had happened trying knowing how hard it was for one to do alone, even Mouse helped.
"It's okay I won't hurt anyone now," He said standing up and in one motion the chair split apart freeing himself with hardly any effort.
Everyone flinched in shock and awe, except Mouse who seemed to be wearing a wry smile. Mick walked over to where his mam sat restrained, or what used to be his mam anyway.
"Mam l probably never said it very often but you were the only one that meant anything to me, the only person I ever loved," he said voice breaking.
Mam just growled back at him with a vacant expression. Mick pulled something out of his pocket, pressed a button on it, which produced a click along with a five-inch blade.
"Goodbye mam," he said then brought the knife straight down into the top of her head stopping at the handle.
She slumped limply in the chair, dead again. The room became quiet, even Desmond managed to hold back. It may have been respect but some of them held a deep down fear of how this would affect this would have on Mick from now on.
Their fears were well perceived as Mick felt a change in himself, any sense of love or empathy for others now buried and forgotten. From now on no one or thing would stand in his way and any who did would be killed, this was his world now.
Chapter 7
Planning
He sat at the computer again and Googled the company name, which gave him the address. Ellistown a small village in Leicestershire, which was in the East Midlands and indeed, was a rural area. He searched anything of interest nearby, all the businesses in this industrial estate. Nearby villages and the shops and businesses, they contained. This could be handy for future scavenging trips out. The list was quite lengthy so he prints this off along with local maps. This was wise because he had no idea how long the internet connection would last or the power for that matter. Therefore, he had to make the most of it. He found an inventory of stock, detailing the row number and shelf level. Probably like IKEA where you write the row, item number with those little pencils, and go home with a pocket stuffed full of them. A funny feeling came over him; a distance memory may be... No nothing, it was gone. He printed this off to study later, but it was a large file and it took awhile. Having to refill the printer and clear a jam once. He managed to find a large ring binder and with the help of a hole punch proceeded to fill t
he binder. That was the information gathered then.
After drinking several glasses of water to curb a heavy thirst, he did not feel tired yet, even though he had woken up in the middle of the night. In fact, he felt energized. Realizing that the warehouse internal perimeter made a large rectangle. He looked down at his feet, which wore tattered trainers, not ideal but they were trainers and they would do for now. He did a few stretches feeling like he knew what he was doing. Then he started a slow jog, it felt a little jarring on his joints at first but then he started to warm up feeling a little looser. Before he had set off he made a note of the wall clock it was 06:15. Completing one circuit and he felt awkward with raspy breathing but continued to slog on. Circuits 1, 2 and 3 he seemed to settle into a comfortable pace and breathing pattern. Ten came and surprisingly he felt pretty good like he was actually enjoying this? Surely, he should be dead on his feet. His size and body composition dictated that he should be knackered, but that did not mean it was easy. He still felt like a lumbering mess unfit for the apocalypse, and his speed was abysmal. This was a good start, excellent even. He did twenty more laps before he needed to stop. He looked at the time 06:47. Feeling thirsty and out of breath, he went to load up on more water, not sitting yet but going through some more stretches. His breath under control again, he felt like he was ready again. So he decided to continue amazingly doing another 60 laps in just over an hour, keeping the same steady pace. He did feel exhausted and crashed onto the sofa taking on water and relieving himself in the toilet. However, he felt good relaxing. Sleep would soon overtake him, but he hoped that he would not be too sore when he woke up.
It was two in the afternoon when he finally woke, quickly getting up and doing a perimeter check to see if everything was secure taking the crowbar with him. He would continue with his routine, toilet and of course the obligatory brew and sitting in front of the TV. then he realized two important things, his legs and body weren't sore and secondly, he still had no appetite. It must have been days since he had last eaten. But why worry it was all for the good. Deciding to test himself he did twenty fairly quick laps, well quicker than last night anyway. He felt good but his body and clothes stunk, he could wash but he needed new clothes. Time to check the inventory.
