The Undead. The First Seven Days (78 page)

He looks at me and nods once, taking a step to stand just in front of her.
  ‘FORM UP,’ Dave bellows and the men drop back to form a ring round Sarah. She looks to me in horror.
  ‘We can’t go into that lot…’ she says, terrified.
  ‘We have to Sarah; there’s thousands of them all round us. The only hope is to get back to our vehicle. Just stay with Dave.’
  ‘Who?’ She asks, confused.
  ‘Sarah, this is Dave… Dave, this is Sarah - now let’s go.’ I take front, centre position again and we start to step forward as Clarence drops the hose, to fall back into step by my side again.

Within seconds, we are back in amongst them, fighting and slicing our axes into their soft decaying bodies. We have our prize; we have the chalice we came for.
  We are warriors and all that we need is something to believe in. To protect those that need protection, to have that principal and to fight for it with every breath we take. Not one of us flinches or questions this, for, in our hearts, we know the reason we are here. To stop the evil from taking her.

We fight you to give her life and we will carry on to be sure that happens.

  Our shape holds as we battle on. They can push as hard as they like, for all they do is force the ones at the front onto our deadly blades and axe heads.
  Clarence swings the axe with his almighty strength and heads are sent spinning in the air, as he chops through necks. Dave sticks by Sarah’s side, taking small lunges, if one pushes through a gap left by the men at the sides.
  Our tactic works and, once again, we make progress - slowly gaining back to the Saxon.

Darren fights with courage and bravery; the infection pulling back to watch him during this battle.

As the Saxon powered closer and closer to the building the infection made a conscious decision to watch from within and learn from his natural reactions. Darren feels his uncertainty just leave him and, once again, he feels the surge of adrenalin as the last seconds before the battle slowly tick away.
  He fires from the back of the Saxon and then moves aside to watch with pride as Howie launches out to attack them single-handed.

He slots the bayonet on his rifle and bursts out with his mates and the other men to charge into the undead. Feeling hatred and glory he fights to follow Howie and Dave. They saved him and gave him respect and protection, they made sure he was okay and they did so many small things that grew a deep respect in him. For that he fights, and the infection learns the mixture of chemicals pouring into Darren’s system that make him feel like this.

Darren hacks away at the zombies and grimaces with determination as they fall under his blows and swipes; aiming for the throat and thrusting deep into their necks. The infection floods every zombie in that area with an image of Darren and makes it clear that they should not touch him.
  As they gain ground, Darren feels invincible as he cuts down zombie after zombie; not realising they lunge at him but hold back from biting. Several chances present themselves as his increasing reckless bravery leaves him open, but they suppress the urge to bite, as Darren becomes the safest man on earth at that moment.
  They start fighting back towards the Saxon and the infection plans for the next phase. It floods Darren with adrenalin and a feeling of confidence. Darren laughs as he attacks them; feeling that he cannot be touched. The infection increases the flow, as Darren surges into them for the attack. The infection has learnt what chemicals to release to flood a body with that same feeling of: love, pride and devotion towards another body, and it keeps Darren safe, as they fight their way back to the vehicle.
  Within a few metres of them reaching the vehicle, the infection pulls them all back and makes every undead step away and leave their path clear.

We fight on, getting closer and closer to the Saxon, when they suddenly pull back and step away from us. Mid-swing they move as one and there is open space in front of me as the axe rotates and almost takes me over with it.
  ‘What’s going on?’ Blowers shouts, in alarm.
  ‘They’re pulling back,’ Tucker shouts, with victory in his voice.
  ‘No, it must be something else, we haven’t won this,’ Big Chris, shouts.
  ‘STAY TOGETHER AND KEEP IN FORMATION,’ Dave shouts, as we move through the clear path, towards the Saxon.
  A noise. I look over to see Darren laughing with unrestrained glee.
  ‘We’ve fucking beaten them, the fucking pussies are giving up,’ he shouts.

Dave glances at me and I shake my head.

I look over to McKinney and put my fingers to my eyes, then point at Darren: ‘Watch him,’ I mouth, and McKinney nods and steps closer to Darren.
  ‘Ha! You fucking losers, we win, we fucking win,’ Darren screams out.
  ‘Darren, calm down mate,’ I call out as we keep stepping towards the Saxon, only a few metres away now.
  ‘Why? We’ve won, we’ve fucking won, we’re untouchable, we can’t be beaten,’ Darren shouts louder and laughs.
  We get to the Saxon, the rear doors still open.

Dave climbs in first, as I help Sarah up.

Dave goes straight to the GPMG to try and get it working again. The lads and men start piling in, as Darren stands away from us all.
  ‘COME ON THEN, COME AND FIGHT ME,’ Darren goads them and holds his rifle above his head.
  ‘Smithy, get back here now,’ I shout out, but he’s too far gone.
  ‘FUCKING COME ON THEN, COME AND TAKE ME, YOU CUNTS,’ Darren screams and suddenly drops the rifle and charges into them.
  ‘SMITHY, STOP,’ McKinney shouts and runs after him.
  ‘NO, STOP,’ I shout, but Darren runs and starts attacking them, taking swipes with his bayonet and thrusting forward to stab them.

McKinney catches up with him and tries to pull him back. McKinney tries harder and Darren swings out hard, knocking McKinney to the ground.
  ‘DARREN, STOP,’ I shout and start forward, as the horde suddenly approach and start grouping round Darren.
  ‘YOU FUCKERS,’ I shout and charge forward.

The zombies drop down onto McKinney who is trying to crab away; within seconds, he is swamped with zombies that bite into his legs and stomach. I reach them and swing the axe out to cut them away. McKinney screams from the pain of the bites. I kill those on him and they suddenly draw back again. I drop down to McKinney’s side and watch as the blood pours from his mouth. I look down at his savaged body and see his innards spilling out of the ragged wound to his stomach.
  ‘Mr Howie… I’m sorry, Mr Howie…’ McKinney whispers, as more blood cascades out of his mouth.
  ‘It’s okay, mate, I’m sorry. You’ve fought so bravely. You are so very brave,’ I feel tears spilling down my face, as I cradle his head in my hands.
  ‘Mr Howie, kill me - don’t let me become one of them,’ he speaks slowly.
  ‘I can’t, you’ll be okay, we can get you help,’ I weep as I speak, trying to offer him some comfort.
  ‘Kill me, don’t let them take me,’ his voice grows weaker, as Dave drops down to my side and stares at me.
  ‘Don’t you fucking touch him,’ I snarl at Dave. ‘Don’t you lay a hand on his fucking head,’ I scream out, as strong hands grip me from behind and pull me away.
  ‘DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HIM,’ I scream at Dave, who stares back at me. I see a tear spilling down from his eye, but I keep yelling.
  ‘Easy, Mr Howie, take it easy,’ Clarence’s deep voice fills my ear, as he pulls me back.
  ‘DAVE, DON’T FUCKING DO IT, DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE,’ I scream and I see more tears fall down Dave’s face.

He drops his head and cradles McKinney in his arms. He holds him close, as I scream and fight to break free.

Dave gently sweeps his blade across McKinney’s throat and I see the red blood pouring out from the open artery.
  ‘DAVE, NO,’ I scream and my legs go out from under me.

Clarence grips me hard and pulls me back and I hear Sarah’s voice but can’t make out any words.
  Dave gently places his hands on McKinney’s face and I watch as he closes McKinney’s eyes, then he slowly stands and looks at me, his cheeks wet from the falling tears.
  Seeing McKinney die and then Dave crying, breaks my heart and I feel myself being pulled into the back of the Saxon. Dave climbs in beside me.
  ‘Where’s Darren?’ Tucker asks, in a quiet voice.
  ‘They took him,’ Clarence says.
  I hear sobs breaking out round me and I watch as Dave’s face remains expressionless, but he is still crying.
  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Howie,’ Dave says quietly, staring down at the floor.
   I see the hardest man I have ever met, crumbling in front of me, from that simple act to fulfil a dying man’s wish - and I fight my emotions back under control.
  ‘No, Dave.’

He looks at me with fear in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say gently and I hear more sobbing break out round me.
  The rear doors are pulled closed and the engine starts.

The road must be clear, because we pull away and I feel the motion of the vehicle. Sarah drops down at my side and she holds me as I fight to keep the tears from coursing down my face.

Dave and I stare at each other as we drive away.

Darren is pulled into the horde and fights with fury, still thinking he can take them all on.

As Howie weeps over the dying McKinney, the infection floods Darren’s system with images and voices that tell him he is the leader now. The infection floods through him, taking him over and turning him. Darren feels the pain course through him as his systems shut down, his heart slows and he dies quietly from the deadly infection; whilst being held gently by the many hands of the undead round him.
  His eyes close as he ceases to be. His life is over and he is gone. Then they open quickly and Darren Smith stares out from red, bloodshot eyes, as his heart starts again and the blood is pumped round his now undead body.
  The infection floods him with a feeling of confidence and strength.

The infection floods the horde with the same feelings that Darren used to have: devotion and pride. Now it is no longer targeted towards Howie, but to him, Darren Smith. The undead back away from their new leader and hundreds of red, bloodshot eyes, stare at Darren as he slowly gets to his feet.
  They back away and create space round him. Darren stands and looks out to the dead form of McKinney. Then, as the zombies fall back to stand in a long line behind him, he stares up at the retreating Saxon and watches as it slowly drives away, through the gap left by the zombie undead.

Darren Smith stands and stares; thousands of undead all round him, gazing at him with devotion and love. Chemicals are sent coursing through thousands of bodies and a different set of hormones and chemicals are sent through Darren.

  I am Darren.
  I am death and I will come for you, Howie.
  I am death and I will come for you, with my army.

DAY SEVEN

Thursday.

High above the surface of the Earth, water vapour forms in the troposphere and white clouds expand and quickly cast shadows over the already darkening land.
  Those clouds form and move with the wind and soon cover the once vibrant city of London.

The already grim looking streets and buildings appear more despondent, as long shadows form over the bloodstains and the rotting corpses that litter the ground. The abnormally high temperatures of the last week have scorched this normally wet land. Swarms of flies and insects drift round the streets, moving from corpse to corpse, laying eggs. Those eggs soon hatch in the perfect breeding ground and the corpses look alive as thousands of fat, white maggots writhe and burrow their way through the skin.
  The first drops of rainfall drop through the warm air to land on the windscreen of the Saxon Armoured Personal Carrier driving through those grim city streets, back to Tower Bridge.

By the time the Saxon enters the Bridge, sheets of rain are covering the surface with spray. Visibility is instantly reduced and the Saxon slows to a stop. One by one, the men climb out from the vehicle and stand under the purifying downpour; letting the water cleanse them from the dirt of battle. Crimson pools form at their feet as the blood is sluiced from their skin and clothes. They hold their heads back, open mouthed, and drink the cascading, cool water. They wipe their hands, pull fingers through their hair, and then wring their clothes out, to rid themselves of the filth and gore.
  The three losses they suffered are heavy on their minds and hearts and their tears blend with the rain as they cry silently. Now they can grieve and mourn those losses. They know more hardship awaits them and later there will not be time for mourning.
  Sarah stands close to the doors of the Saxon, sensing the bond between these men and realising this experience is not hers to share. She watches Howie closely, and can already see the change in her brother. The goofy, playful, sweet-natured man has been replaced by a hardened warrior. She doesn’t know how he came to be here or what happened along the way, or why the men follow him, but she saw the reaction Howie had to the dying lad and felt the emotion in all of them as they watched him die.

Sarah held Howie as he wept in the back of the vehicle and looked round to see them all with tear-filled eyes, and that small man called Dave... he stayed by her side throughout the battle back to the Saxon and the way he moved was extraordinary. It’s clear to Sarah that there’s a deep connection between her brother and Dave.