The Undead. The First Seven Days (44 page)

  ‘That’s why revolutions never really work. You can take a whole bunch of people that have conflicting beliefs, but they unite against a common enemy and work together to bring that enemy down… say, the ruling government. But that just leaves a void, and someone has to fill that void. Someone has to work out the tax rate, fix the roads and make sure that the hospitals are working and then, of course, we have security and food to eat. And with the best will in the world, you take a bunch of people and put them in a room together to work out the best for everyone and they will spend most of the time bickering and arguing. Someone will come out on top and you are back to the saying of power corrupts again.

  ‘Then the others get resentful and jealous and it never really ends, hence the name, revolution.’

  It’s gone very quiet around me and I look back to see all of the recruits staring at me with interest.
  ‘That’s why you’re in charge, Mr Howie’. Dave says, simply.

Two hours later and we are deep into the rolling plains.

  The roadway leads directly through the plains, as far as I can tell. To both sides there is just wide sweeping, gently rolling hills. The land is very dry from the scorching summer and I can see deep track marks from the tanks and heavy vehicles all around us. It must have been hell trying to cross this land, especially in the dark and I find a new respect for the recruits. I can’t imagine most regular troops being able to do that, but then they are young and learn from hard living in hard times.
  We have only stopped once for a rest, and that was called by me when I glanced back and saw the exhaustion on their faces. We took ten minutes to drink water and eat high-energy snack bars that were purloined from a box that Tucker found in the stores building. He must have sneaked them into his backpack when everyone else was putting boots on and making sure they looked like commandos. When he broke them out and handed them round, he was a hero for five minutes and I could see him grinning with the respect they gave him. After the ten minutes, we were back on and not one of them moaned.

  They have hardly slept or taken on decent food since Friday and they are still going; grim determination and a fear of being left alone is driving them on.

‘EYES ON,’ Dave calls from my side.

I snap out of my reverie and look up. Ahead of us the road sweeps round to the right and we can just make out the top of a church spire. The atmosphere charges instantly and I can feel the recruits tensing up and watching left and right, as we make our way forward.
  There is a low embankment to both sides and I wave the recruits into the right side to take cover.
  ‘Rest for a minute, but stay sharp,’ Dave tells them as we shrug off our backpacks and start belly crawling out to the middle of the road and then slowly forward, until the bend opens up and we can see down into the village.
  There are houses on both sides of the village; old brick built things that have seen far better days but have clearly been patched up here and there, to keep them usable for training. The road goes down to a crossroads and there is a big church on the right.
  There is a makeshift area, encased by a circle of sandbags, just before the village and on the right side; I guess this must be the safe area the recruits were sent to when they were “captured”.
  The plains roll out far on both sides of the village, it looks like there was once a thicket of vegetation off to the left side, but it’s been cut down to open the area up.
  From our position, we can just make out the edge of another circular sandbag area, situated in the corner between the row of houses ahead of us and the houses on the road, to the right of us.
  ‘That’s a fucking lot of zombies,’ I say to Dave, as I look in awe at the largest gathering of undead I have seen yet.

The exercise must have been immense, as there are zombie soldiers packed into the village centre. 

From the start of the building line and down past the crossroads there are zombie soldiers shuffling and rolling their heads. The distance is too great to see detail, but I can imagine the drooling mouths and the red bloodshot eyes; their horrific injuries drying and festering in the high heat and swarms of flies and insects buzzing in amongst them. The heat coming from them must be intense, as there is a haze just above them.

‘Oh yes, that’s a lot of fucking zombies,’ I repeat to myself in shock at the sight.

Dave stays silent, assessing the area in front of us.
  ‘Fuck the guns mate, let’s just go for it with the axe and the knives,’ I say to Dave.

He turns to me and gives a small smile.
  ‘I’m joking, you fucking psycho… although it would be bloody good fun.’
  ‘See in the middle of the crossroads?’ Dave points and I follow the straight line he is pointing out and just make out the top of something slap bang in the middle of the intersection.
  ‘What’s that?’ I ask Dave.
  ‘The Saxon.’
  ‘Shit, it’s completely surrounded. How the fuck are we going to get to that? It will be dark before we even get close to leading them away, and we really don’t want to be out here when that lot turn all werewolf on us.’ A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of the noise they make.

We snake our way over to the group who are huddled into the side of the road.
  ‘How is it?’ Cooke whispers, as soon as we get close enough.
  ‘Bad, very bad, there must well over a thousand of them. What the hell are so many soldiers doing here?’

Nobody answers and even Dave just shakes his head.
  ‘Is it normal for so many soldiers to be in one place like this for a training exercise?’ I ask again.
  ‘Sometimes, but it’s quite rare. It takes some logistics to get regiments and units into one place.’ Dave answers, but he doesn’t sound convincing.

I nod back at him then glance round the recruits.
  ‘The A…P…C… is in the middle of the crossroads. There might be more than one of them, but after what you told me about the size of the plains we would be safer if we just try to get this one. Agreed?’  

They nod back at me.
  ‘Right, so me and Dave have previously used the “lead them away” tactic which would be perfect if we had time. But, a group that size would take hours to move away, especially when they are slow like now, but, on the other hand, we don’t want to be anywhere near them when it gets dark. Agreed?’

More nods.
  ‘So, we have to attack them. The disadvantages are that they are stacked very deep around that APC and it’s getting late. The advantages are stacked in our favour though. They are slow moving and packed together and we have machine guns and lots of ammunition,’ I look to Dave. ‘Do we have enough ammunition for a crowd that size?’
  ‘I’m not sure, we all bought spare magazines but they don’t die unless they are head shots or the body is so severely injured that they cannot physically move.’
  ‘Bollocks. I wish we had one of those big machine guns, what did you call it, a GPMG?’
  ‘Yes.’
  ‘We could really do with one right now…’
  ‘Sir, there was one being used,’ Blowers cuts in. ‘It was on the corner of the crossroads.’
  ‘What?’
  ‘Erm… it was behind a load of sandbags.’
  ‘Yeah… I saw the edge of the sandbags, are you sure that was it though?’
  ‘Sir, the sound is unmistakable.’
  ‘Dave, is that right?’
  ‘Yes, the sound is unique, especially if Blowers heard them before, when he did his Royal Marines training.’ Dave answers.
  ‘Did you hear one before, Blowers?’ I ask him.
  ‘Yeah, bloody loads of times.’ He says, excited.
  ‘Ah, fucking hang on, do they use real bullets during these exercises, Dave?’
  ‘No, Mr Howie. Only very few exercises use live rounds. The GMPG won’t be loaded now.’
  ‘Will there be real bullets near it that we can use?’
  ‘No, back in the armoury.’ Dave says.
  ‘Bollocks. Right, that’s fucked then, unless there’s a vehicle round here we can use to send someone back quickly, other than the Saxon thing that is. Lads, did any of you see another vehicle anywhere?’ 

Lots of shaking heads.
  ‘No, Sir - it was dark and we were in the houses all the time.’ McKinney says.

Then I see one of the quiet lads looking at me thoughtfully.
  ‘Go on mate… Curtis is it?’
  ‘Yes, Sir. Curtis Graves’. He answers softly.
  ‘Okay, Curtis - did you see one?’
  ‘Er… there was a
Land Rover
just down from the crossroads, Sir. My Dad had one and I recognised it.’ 
  ‘Great! Nice one Curtis, that’s brilliant. Now where did you last see it?’
  ‘Off that way,’ Graves waves towards the village and over to the left.
  ‘Okay mate, so on the left side of the village as we look at it from this road here?’
  ‘Yep, er… I mean yes, S… Sir.’
  ‘Come with me mate.’ I say to Graves and we both belly shuffle out into the middle of the road.
  ‘Fucking hell,’ Graves says, when he sees the almighty undead horde.
  ‘Yeah, I know… right? Oh well, fuck ‘em, we’ll get through them somehow. Now try to describe exactly where you saw it last?’

A sudden noise and groaning comes from behind us and we look round to see an undead sliding down the embankment, directly into the recruits. They burst away and Dave immediately dives in and starts striking the head with the butt of his rifle. Some of the other lads join in and the zombie groans as he is pummelled by several rifle butts at the same time.

Dave then whips out one of his knives and slices it across the throat of the zombie soldier, a spray of crimson starts spurting out and Dave rolls the undead over so the blood goes into the ground. Once he is done he looks back at me and gives a thumbs up.
  ‘Fuck me, Dave - can’t you go more than five minutes?’ I whisper over to him, he just shrugs and gives a small smile.
  ‘Now, Curtis, sorry mate - where was it?’
  ‘That’s all right, Sir. It was to the left of the crossroads and down a bit.’ He indicates with a wave of his arm.
  ‘Okay, let’s get back.’

We belly shuffle back to the group and I shake my head reproachfully at Dave, as I look at the undead lying in a pool of blood.
  ‘Dave, I think you and I should go for the
Land Rover,
the rest of you stay put.’
  ‘Okay, Mr Howie,’ Dave nods and starts getting ready.
  ‘Blowers, you’re in charge, until we get back. If you hear us firing, then start shooting those fuckers and move slowly back up the road, okay?’
  ‘Yes, Sir,’ Blowers grins and nudges Cooke.
  ‘Hear that Cookey, you can’t start bumming them, until we hear shooting.’
  ‘Fuck off, Blowers,’ Cooke grins back at him.
  Dave puts his rifle on his back and takes his two straight-bladed knives in his hands. I reluctantly leave my beloved axe and just take the rifle.
  ‘Tucker, look after my axe mate, please don’t lose it,’ I ask him, as I prepare to go.
  ‘Yes, Sir!’ Tucker swells with pride and clutches the axe protectively with both hands.
  ‘Ready, Dave?’
  ‘Yes, Mr Howie.’

We move off, keeping low.

We cross the road and get over the embankment, then down the other side. We move at a fast pace but bent over and aim far left, behind the row of houses. We quickly pass the sandbag safe area then move further left, so we are well away from the road.

Up close, I can see the houses are not really well-maintained at all, and none of them have glass in the windows; just empty holes with shutters held open. The garden fences to the rear gardens have been relatively well kept, and I guess this adds realism to the place.
  Within minutes, we are past the houses and nearing the road, coming into the crossroads from the left. The undead are still densely packed and we have to go quite far down the row of houses, before we see a sufficient gap to move forwards. We get to the back of one of the properties and start inching forward, until we can lean out and peek down the road. The
Land Rover
is parked to the side of the road furthest away from us. There are zombie soldiers shuffling and groaning near it, but the gaps between them look fairly decent.
  ‘I reckon we can make that Dave, you up for it?’
  ‘Yes.’
  We dart out and start sprinting down and across the road, dodging round zombie soldiers who immediately turn and start moving towards us.

The rancid stench of rotting meat is disgusting and I can see their skin already looks to be decomposing. I don’t engage the zombies this time, but stick with dodging round and through them, until I reach the vehicle. Dave, on the other hand, can’t help himself and has already slit a few throats by the time we get to the car. We clamber into the front and I thank god as I see the key still in the ignition. The diesel engine splutters loudly, and, apart from the low groans of the undead, the area was quite silent.

The noise immediately gets a reaction and more of them start moving towards us. I turn the wheel hard, surprised at how much force is needed and I realise these vehicles don’t have power assisted steering. I have to roll forward and then back a few times, until I am facing the other way; knocking over a few zombies in the process.
  Once we are turned round, I drive off and keep going down the road, until the row of houses ends. Then I turn left and drive onto the plains and head back towards the area we left the recruits.
  ‘Well mate, I think they know we are here now,’ I say to Dave who just nods back at me.
  I drive round the backs of the houses and then past the sandbag safe area and onto the road. The recruits must have heard the engine and are moving out into the middle of the road as we come round the corner. I stop the vehicle, but leave the engine running and jump out.
  ‘Curtis, can you drive, mate? Did you ever drive your Dad’s
Land Rover
?’
  ‘Yeah, loads of times,’ He replies and starts moving over to me.
  ‘Right, you and Dave get back to the armoury and get the ammunition for that GMPG…’
  ‘GPMG,’ Dave calls out.
  ‘Yeah, that thing. You and Dave get the ammo, we’ll start shooting the fuckers from here, got it?’
  ‘Yes, Sir,’ Graves gets into the driver’s seat as I yell one last instruction at him.
  ‘Curtis, we won’t be able to hold them for long - so be quick.’
  The
Land Rover
roars off, leaving me with the recruits.
  ‘Well lads, they know we are here. I reckon we should spread out in a line and start shooting them, you up for it?’
  ‘Sir, can I put one on the top of each embankment, to watch the flanks and the rear?’ Blowers asks.
  ‘Good thinking mate, yeah, do that.’
  ‘Cookey, you take the right flank, Smith you take the left flank, keep a good look out and make sure you keep checking behind us.’ Blowers gives a clear instruction and they both start scrambling up.
  The horde are all facing our way now and look immense, even from this distance. The army uniform seems to amplify their numbers and make them look even more sinister.
  ‘Fuck it, some still have their NATO helmets on,’ Smith shouts down from the top of the embankment.
  ‘Well, there ain’t much we can do about that is there?’ I respond. ‘Apart from shooting them in the knees.’