The Undead. The First Seven Days (100 page)

He heads outside to find one of the guards and instructs him to go into the police office and find people to form a chain to pass the cannon ammunition up to the south wall.

The guard nods and strolls into the police room to join the queue of people already waiting for Sergeant Hopewell’s attention.

Thinking that his request is probably more urgent, he gently pushes through the throng until he reaches the desk and stands dominating the view of the harassed Sergeant.
  ‘We need a chain of people to pass items up to the top of the north wall,’ the guard says simply.
  ‘How the hell am I supposed to do that?’ Sergeant Hopewell snaps angrily. ‘You’ve got a mouth, go and find people yourself.’
  ‘Why can’t you do it?’ The guards asks defensively.
  ‘Because I’m bloody busy that’s why,’ Sergeant Hopewell shouts, ignoring the man and turning back to the person she was talking to before.
  The guard pushes back away from the desk and heads further into the room to see Sarah and Terri examining sheets of paper and talking quietly.
  ‘We need a chain of people to pass items up to the top of the north wall,’ the guard repeats.
  ‘And I need more coffee and some sleep, and a bloody computer would help, rather than working in the dark ages with sheets of bloody paper,’ Terri retorts.
  ‘Yeah, but this is important,’ the guard says, looking with distaste at the stacks of paper.
  ‘Important is it? Because what we’re doing clearly isn’t important then,’ Terri shouts at the guard, before going back to speaking with Sarah.

After a few minutes, the guard coughs and interrupts: ‘So, can you get the people or not?’ he asks.
  ‘No, we bloody can’t, we’ve got no runners left and a million other things to do.’
  ‘Yeah but…’
  ‘Do not “yeah but” me, find someone else,’ Terri snaps turning her back on the man.
  The guard walks away from the office scratching his head; he walks back into the armoury and finds Malcolm putting piles of shotguns together.
  ‘That was quick, are they ready?’ Malcolm asks.
  ‘No, I couldn’t find anyone,’ the guard announces.
  ‘Fucking what?’ Malcolm shouts. ‘There’s seven thousand people out there, sitting around, doing nothing.’
  ‘I asked in the police office, but they were too busy,’ the guard starts to explain.
  ‘Too busy? Doing what may I ask? Filing missing person reports for the forty million fucking zombies roaming around eating fucking brains. Get out there and find some people to get that shit up to the south wall,’ Malcolm roars at the poor man.

He turns once again and heads back outside, a lifetime of Infantry experience in the army taught him he is the lowest on the food chain and to argue would most likely either invoke a beating or cleaning the toilets for the next month, or probably both.

He stands staring at the impenetrable mass of people in the camp. His lack of creative flair or ability to think outside of orders stumps him.
  Scratching his head, he wanders through the camp, looking for someone to ask but they all look so busy: talking, flitting between tents or moving quickly between places.

His wandering brings him close to the front gate where Cookey and Blowers are still leaning and drinking coffee.
  ‘What’s up, mate?’ Blowers asks, seeing the lost look on the bewildered guards face.
  ‘They need a chain of people to get the cannon ammunition up to the top of the north wall. I asked in the police office and they told me to piss off, I went back to Malcolm and he told me to piss off, now I don’t know who to ask…’ the man explains.
  ‘Ah, that’s easy, me and Cookey will get it sorted,’ Blowers says, relieved at the prospect of being away from his position.
  ‘Yeah, definitely, are you sure?’ the guard asks, a sudden light at the end of the tunnel. Standing guard duty is easy, compared to having to actually speak to people.
  ‘Yeah, of course. Now… no one goes in or out without checking with Mr Howie or Chris first, got it?’ Blowers asks.
  ‘Got it,’ the man responds, happily taking up position by the side of the gate.

Blowers and Cookey walk away, stretching and feeling pleasure at being able to walk about for the first time in hours.

They walk over to the armoury to find Malcolm still wound up and muttering to himself.
  ‘Hi Malc, that guard said you needed people to carry some stuff?’ Blowers asks.
  ‘Didn’t he do it? Bloody people can’t just get things done can they?’ Malcolm starts off, Blowers quickly holds his hands up, ‘No worries mate, we’ll get it sorted, where is it?’
  ‘All of that stuff in that back room,’ Malcolm points to the door at the rear.
  ‘Got it, leave it with us, have you still got the radio, Cookey? Get hold of Nick and ask him to do one of his supermarket announcements again,’ Blowers says as they move back outside.

Cookey speaks into the radio telling Nick what he needs. ‘Listen to this,’ Cookey says smiling at Blowers.
 
‘ATTENTION PLEASE, ATTENTION PLEASE, CLEAN UP ON AISLE EIGHT,’
Nick’s voice booms out over the camp, as Cookey and Blowers both burst out laughing.
 
‘ATTENTION PLEASE, WE NEED VOLUNTEERS TO FORM A CHAIN FROM THE SOUTH WALL TO THE NORTH WALL, PLEASE REPORT TO THE TWO UGLY LOOKING MEN IN UNIFORM.’
 
The camp freezes at the announcement, some of the people smiling and laughing at the comments, some clearly not understanding.
  Within minutes, Blowers and Cookey have a long chain of people stretching from the armoury going through the camp and up to the vehicle ramp onto the north wall.

More people than they need join in, but the action of doing something, propels them to try and join in and the line quickly becomes overcrowded.
  ‘Cookey, get Nick to ask them to separate into two lines,’ Blowers calls out.
 
‘ATTENTION PLEASE, ATTENTION PLEASE, THERE ARE TOO MANY PEOPLE IN THE LINE. CAN WE HAVE ALL THE MEN IN ONE LINE AND ALL THE WOMEN IN ANOTHER LINE.  COME ONE, MEN VERSUS WOMEN, LET’S SEE WHO CAN GET THEIR LOAD DONE FIRST.’
Nick carries on, urging the camp into two lines, until, after a few minutes, the men and women stand facing each other, shouting with good-natured banter.

The noise slowly draws the people out of the police office, Sergeant Hopewell, Sarah and Terri all come out to see the fuss and stand watching the two lines slowly forming as Nick stands on the top of the Saxon directing them.
  ‘
RIGHT, AT THE FRONT YOU WILL SEE BLOWERS, THAT’S HIM WITH HIS ARM UP, HE’S ON THE MEN’S SIDE, THE OTHER ONE, COOKEY, THAT’S HIM WAVING NOW, HE’S ON THE WOMEN’S SIDE. THEY WILL PASS EACH CHAIN THE ITEM TO BE MOVED UP, THE CHAIN LEFT WITH THE LAST ITEM STILL BEING PASSED UP IS THE LOSER, NOW, ARE YOU READY?’
A chorus of replies sounds out.
 
‘I CAN’T HEAR YOU, I SAID… ARE YOU READY?’
Nick booms out over the loudspeaker, the two lines roar and cheer as Blowers and Cookey position themselves at the end of the two chains, pretending to jump up and down and get ready.

Malcolm walks out of the armoury and stands bemused at the sight, and realising what’s about to happen he moves a few steps away and lights a much needed cigarette.
 
‘THREE… TWO… ONE… GO’
 
Laughing like children, Blowers and Cookey burst away into the armoury and race into the back room, they each grab a bucket of metal scraps and runs back to the chain.
 
‘HERE COME THE FIRST TWO, IT’S ALL EVEN AT THE MOMENT, OH AND THE FIRST BUCKETS ARE INTO THE CHAINS AND BEING PASSED UP,’
Nick commentates as Blowers and Cookey run back inside to get the next ones.

Blowers grabs two buckets as Cookey quickly grabs one and starts back.
  ‘That’s cheating, you wanker,’ Cookey yells, as he goes back for another one and runs behind his friend to pass them onto the chain.
  The two lines roar and cheer as they see the two lads bursting out, each carrying two buckets.

Sarah starts smiling at the sight and looks to Terri, laughing, as the two lads push against each other to reach the lines first.
  ‘COME ON, COOKEY,’ Terri yells.
  ‘That’s bloody Tom and Steven in that line,’ Sergeant Hopewell laughs, at seeing the two lads joining in with passing the items up.
  ‘I’m joining in,’ Terri laughs and runs across to the front of the line.
  ‘I’m not having that,’ Ted remarks from behind them and jogs over to stand opposite Terri on the man’s line.
  Blowers and Cookey keep running back into the armoury and grabbing buckets of metal to race back outside, waiting until they are in front of the people before they start barging into each other, both of them red in the face but laughing hard.
  Malcolm smiles as he quietly smokes, amazed at what’s taking place in front of him. These people have suffered such loss but here they are, joking and playing, doing anything to break the tension and all it took was three young mischievous soldiers pissing about. His smile widens as he thinks back to the escapades that he, Chris and Clarence got up to, early in their service.
  Nick continues with the commentary, as people twist and turn passing the items up, pointing out mistakes and making the others laugh and cheer. Dave, Jamie and Curtis stand next to the Saxon and watch the growing piles of buckets being quickly passed up.
  The inside area of the main gate quickly fills up as those closest to the front first hear Nick booming out on the loudspeaker and then the sounds of cheering, they pause in their training and drill to move back inside and stand smiling at the spectacle.

Howie stands outside the police office, quietly drinking coffee and taking the scene in.

He watches Terri smiling and laughing as she reaches out to take a bucket from Cookey before he turns to run back inside, pushing and shoving against Blowers by his side. He watches as Tom and Steven grasp their bucket in turn and laugh as it’s passed on, shouting and urging the men to move faster.

How can they all be taken, fifty or so million people in Britain and everyone one of them has had their life changed forever. The rich and powerful may have been whisked to safety inside bunkers, but even their lives are changed. The thought process leads Howie to think of the populations of different countries. This started in Eastern Europe somewhere, so that means the whole of Europe, and if it spread to an Island like Britain so quickly, it must have gone everywhere. Every man, woman and child on the planet has had their life changed and for what? For another species to develop? For another race to take over? Or just an infection that courses through their systems without realising the futility of it all. That eventually it will infect everyone and have nothing left to feed on.
  He thinks of how McKinney would love this now, and would be laughing and joking up top with Nick and Curtis. Then he remembers Darren and the conversation they had on the bridge, with a jolt he realises it was only this morning, only a few hours ago. It feels like days or weeks have gone by just in this one day. He thinks back to Friday night and being at home in his flat watching television that felt like years ago. He was a night’s manager in a supermarket then, now he is a leader of men and making ready to fight an army of dead people.

He shakes his head slowly in wonder, if only his father could see him now, how proud he would be. His thoughts darken once again as he thinks of his parents now part of that army coming for them, and of Darren’s words on the bridge.
 
Lord, give me the grace to have five minutes with Darren when we meet, just him and me alone for five minutes.
Howie sips is coffee visualising the moment he would take him down and make him pay for all the bad things that have happened, cocking his head to one side he adds a final request to his prayer,
and can I have my axe with me please.
 
The race finishes with Cookey and Blowers both running out of the armoury with their last bucket each, using their free hands to push and pull the other one back. They grapple with red panting faces still laughing as they stagger and slip over, somehow managing to keep their buckets upright. Finally, they separate and make it to their lines at the same time, passing their buckets over and then racing along with them as they get passed from man to man and woman to woman. Nick’s voice grows hoarse with excitement.

The ends of the lines disperse as the men and women race to keep up with the buckets. The buckets reach the last few people as the view is entirely blocked by everyone crowding round to watch. With a roar, the buckets reach the top in unison, both being placed at the top at the same time.
 
‘IT’S A DRAW, OH YES
,
A DRAW, THE AGE OLD BATTLE OF MEN VERSUS WOMEN HAS FINALLY BEEN LAID TO REST HERE IN FORT SPITBANK WITH A DRAW.’
Nick ends his commentary as the crowds all mingle into one.

The day draws on and slowly the camp returns to order, as people file back down and continue with the tasks they were doing.

Clarence leads his group back outside and resumes the weapons drills and Howie watches as Dave and Jamie, now joined by several others on the top wall, all start moving the buckets to the cannon sites.
  He makes heads over towards the vehicle ramp, leading to the top of the north wall, passing the engineers workshop as he goes. He pauses to see Kelly inside, still moving between the various small groups of people and the growing pile of sharpened foot traps on the floor. She smiles and nods as he passes by, moving onto the ramp and passing smiling people moving back down to the camp.
  ‘That was a good effort ,Nick,’ Howie says, as he reaches the Saxon.
  ‘Thanks, Mr Howie, it was a good laugh for a few minutes,’ Nick replies, now back on the GPMG and staring out to the flatlands through a pair of binoculars.
  ‘How are they getting on out there, mate,’ Howie asks.
  ‘Have a look,’ Nick passes the binoculars over; Howie lifts them to his eyes and starts scanning over the flatlands to the estate.