chapter 10
Jack’s feet ploughed through the wet sand, rain pounding his face. He wiped his eyes so he could see his target - the five zombies gathered around the rock his daughter stood on. Tom was there too, both of them jumping, shouting, waving.
They were ok.
Each step took him closer to the reaching, grabbing group of dead; all trying to get to his daughter.
Almost in striking distance, he raised his sledgehammer. They didn’t see him coming.
He brought down the sledgehammer hard, and the head of the nearest zombie smashed into small pieces. Blood, skull and globules of brown rotten flesh splattered wide, some hitting his face.
The first zombie may have been dispatched easily, but his swing was too hard and he lost his balance. He fell into the next zombie, its back turned to Jack, its head covered with a mane of long red hair. Putting out one of his hands to steady himself, he pushed through the back of Red hair’s rotten ribcage, the fragile bones giving way easily with a crack, like dry twigs. Jack found himself impaled to the back of Red hair, his arm stuck up to his shoulder.
“Look out Daddy!” shouted Annie from ten feet above him.
The other zombies noticed the action and turned to Jack. The closest one moved in with its rotten face, one eyeball missing, snapping its jaws in a horrible click clack.
Jack instinctively took a few steps back, tripped and tumbled onto the sand, pulling Red hair, still implied on his arm, with him. Luckily Red hair was facing away from Jack. It moved its head manically from left to right, its teeth chattering in crazed frustration.
Jack took his free arm and pushed hard on the back of Red hair’s head. Its neck snapped, but the teeth kept chattering. He turned onto his side and pulled his hand out of its innards, taking a trail of guts with him. The smell turned his stomach.
He rolled across the sand, away from the zombies, then jumped up and raised his sledgehammer. He was a good ten feet away from the four left standing. Red hair was rolling on the sand, like an upside down beetle, its head hanging limp. The three standing shuffled towards him.
He walked towards the nearest zombie, old One eye, and swung his sledgehammer with force, being careful to apply control this time.
One eye’s skull caved in and the zombie dropped to the ground, like a machine turned off.
He then did the same to the next. Controlled swing, crush the skull. Dead.
And the next.
Last was Red hair, still flapping uselessly on the ground. It looked like it used to be a teenage girl. He raised his sledgehammer and pulverised its skull into the sand.
He ran to the bottom of the rock.
“Come on Annie, it’s safe now, come on,” he shouted up to his daughter, holding his arms up.
“I’m scared Daddy,” she said, her words nearly lost in the wind and rain.
“It’s ok. I told you I wouldn’t ever let anything hurt you, and I won’t.”
“Are you angry?”
“No.”
Annie made a slow and careful descent as Jack took furtive looks around him.
Tom followed Annie and after a few long moments, they were both on the sand. Annie jumped into his arms and he hugged her tightly. Tears joined the raindrops on his cheeks.
He kneeled and reached for Tom too, who was standing apart from them both, crying.
“Come on,” said Jack. The three hugged.
“Dad!” shouted Tom.
“Tom,” said a voice from behind them. Simon.
Jack stood up, still holding his daughter in his arms, and Tom ran to his Dad, who hugged him tightly.
Simon looked at the dead zombies lying in the sand. He nodded at Jack. “Good work.”
“Let’s get back,” said Jack.
They set off across the sand, back towards the hole in the fence.
Annie held on tight to her Dad, burying her head in his shoulder.
“I messed up,” said Jack.
“What do you mean?” said Simon, “you saved them.”
“The fence. We were meant to go back and fix that piece of fencing. But we didn’t. I didn’t.” Jack shook his head, seething at himself.
“We can fix it now,” said Simon. “I think you did good.”
“They could have died, Simon, we could have lost them, and it would have been my fault.”
“Look, you’ve had a bad day. Stop beating on yourself. None of us are doing so well at the moment. But you saved them Jack.”
“It was my fence to fix. It’s not going to happen again.”
“What do you mean?”
The wind buffeted their words, and Jack had to almost shout to be heard. “We need to do something about the fence. I’m going to make sure it never goes again. We need to keep the zombies out, but we also need to keep people in.”
“Don’t think about it now, Jack,” said Simon. “Let’s just get back and rest. Today has been tough. Too tough.”
Jack didn’t answer.
He stared at the gap in the fence as they approached.
“Daddy, you’re squishing me,” said Annie quietly into his neck.
He loosened his embrace. Just a bit.
The rest of the day passed in a blur.
Jack remembered being congratulated by many. He was told several times how brave he was. To leave the holiday park on his own, to take on the zombies and save the children.
People suggested that Jack should become the head of all future runs as he was obviously a talented and fearless zombie killer.
Marcus’ mum had even taken time out of her despair to thank Jack. “I’m sure you did everything you could to save my son. If you couldn’t have saved him, then no-one could.”
Simon had pulled him to the side. “Sorry I doubted you before, about Marcus. Things, they get on top of you. I’m sure you know. Thanks for saving Tom.”
James asked him if he wanted to lead the runs.
“No,” said Jack. “I need to fix the fence.”
“Ok. You tell us what you think needs to be done, and we’ll look at it.”
Jack watched as Marcus’ mother walked from the car park, friends around her. She walked delicately, her shoulders humped up like an old woman. She could only have been five years older than him.
By the time Jack and Annie got back to their chalet, he was exhausted. His brain drifted in a smokey haze, like a dream. A bad one.
“I’ll move your bed into my room,” he said to Annie. “I think it’s best if we stick together for a while, at least until the fence is fixed.”
Annie agreed. The events at the beach had left her shaken. “I’m sorry I went out Daddy. You were right. Tom said you were a coward, but I think he’s wrong.”
Jack didn’t say anything.
He put Annie to bed, tucking her in tight. “I hope you sleep well. Try not to dream too much.”
“I’ll think of Mummy,” said Annie.
“She’ll be thinking of you too.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Good night.”
“Night Daddy.”
He turned off the light and left the room, leaving the door ajar. He went into the living area and opened a drawer, taking out Amy’s passport. It contained the only photo he had of her. A small two inch high shot, no smiles, look straight ahead, good likeness please.
He cried for a while, quietly so Annie wouldn’t hear him.
It was getting dark. He put the passport away. His and Amy’s phone sat in the same drawer. There was a wealth of photos on the phones, and he often thought of the day they got power back and he could recharge. What would it mean to him to see all those pictures again? The three of them on holiday, playing in the garden, the silly selfies. Would it mean anything to him? It would be like looking at pictures of a world that never existed.
He closed the drawer, lit a candle, and went to a different drawer, taking out an old ordinance survey map. Him and Ian had used it in the first month to plan the fence.
Although tired, he stared at it until the early hours of the morning. He studied the terrain to find possible weak spots, to pinpoint areas that would need strengthening. He wrote lists of the materials he would need. Estimated the hours it would take to complete. Guessed how many people he would need to help.
It was 2am before he decided to go to bed. His body ached, his eyes itched and his mind swam.
He checked over the chalet three or four times; every lock, every window, every vent, every entry point.
Annie was fast asleep, her light breathing a comforting sound in the dark.
Tomorrow he would begin to make the world safe for her again.
Enjoyed this book? Read how it all began in the Surviving the Fall collection
SURVIVING THE FALL
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01KBPYRFM
How England died. The story of the first few days of the zombie apocalypse, of those who lived, and those who died.
Surviving the Fall collects eight non-stop terror tales in one action packed volume, which together tell of the panic filled dawn of a new, undead world.