The Undead. The First Seven Days (92 page)

Chris indicates the area of flatland immediately in front of the row of houses.
  ‘We need it all the way across the entire width of the spit, will three of you be enough to do this?’ Chris asks.
  ‘Yes, Sir, the digging won’t take long, cutting the grass and laying it across will take the longest part, err, may I ask how you are going to fix the spikes in?’ George asks.
  ‘We’re going to speak to engineers next and ask them to arrange it,’ Chris replies, looking at the experienced man.
  ‘That’s a long strip you’re planning Sir, right across the width of the spit and the spikes will need to be driven in quite a way to hold fast, but done without blunting the ends, especially if you’re using metal. Also, where will you get the spikes from?’
  ‘There’s a workshop here; we’ll find some engineers and mechanics to try and sort them out. You think spikes will be hard to do then?’ Chris asks, openly taking their advice.
  ‘Not impossible, but certainly difficult, we’ve got enough people here to do it, but if you’re concerned of some of them being infected, then it will be bloody hard for you to trust that many to go outside,’ George says.
  ‘Okay, good point, we’ll see if it can be done. Where are the diggers?’
  ‘Over on the west side, stacked up between the two walls. We managed to get quite a few vehicles in the gap.’
  ‘That’s good thinking, keeps them safe,’ Chris says.
  ‘I’ve got runners telling your families you’re busy for a little while, they can go to Sergeant Hopewell next door if they’ve got any concerns, and I’ve jacked up some guards to go with you. I’ve had to use some of your people Chris, mine are all tucked up, but I’ve briefed them to what’s needed,’ Howie says, coming back into the room. ‘Whenever you’re ready gentlemen.’

Howie leads the men out of the planning room and down towards the gate, stopping to speak to Blowers and Cookey, who are leaning against a post, smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. Their assault rifles are strapped across their shoulders, allowing the rifles to rest at the front.
  ‘Lads, how’s it going?’ Howie asks, as they walk closer.
  ‘Mr Howie, we’re just having a coffee,’ Cookey replies, guiltily.
  ‘No worries, lads, you don’t have to apologise, I know you’ll stay alert. Has anyone tried to get in or out?’
  ‘Nope, we’ve had a lot of people come and ask us questions,’ Blowers says, stubbing his cigarette out.
  ‘How do they seem when they’re speaking to you?’ Howie asks.
  ‘Nervous and pumped up, to be honest, Sir, like they want to be doing something, rather just waiting,’ Cookey replies.
  ‘Okay. Just to let you know that we’re taking these chaps out into the flatlands with some plant machinery, in case anyone questions the noise or anything,’ Howie explains, as Cookey opens the small walk-through gate for them.
  They step into the wide lane between the inner and outer wall. The concrete walkway is now covered with a cropped layer of grass. They turn left and walk down into the area that runs between the two walls; the plant machinery and other vehicles coming into view, as the lane bends to the left. Several armed guards are recognised by Howie, from back in the commune, and, already spoken to, follow at a discrete distance; their weapons gripped and ready.

Howie pauses to let the three men walk on to their vehicles: ‘Okay, so you know what they’re doing, keep a close eye on them and make sure they don’t leave their vehicles and go into the estate. We’ve got a couple of our people already in the housing area, so be very careful if you have to venture in. In fact, I would say, don’t go in there, unless absolutely necessary and make sure you let us know on the radio… got it?’ Howie says to the guards who nod back, as the nearest of the diggers starts up with a noisy roar.
  ‘We might be sending more people out , but I’ll let you know if we do,’ Howie says, leaving them to it and walking back to the gate.
  Once inside, he walks slowly back towards the south wall, thinking of the plans they have put in place; a visual image forming in his head.

We’ve got spotters out front, so we should get notified when they arrive. There could be undead already in the estate watching us, but we can’t afford the time or people to sweep it clean, and Dave is in that area rigging some traps up. The zombie army has to come this way, so they have to go through the estate. Dave blows some of them up and slows them down. Then they push into the flatlands and into the trenches, with either spikes, or something else, to hurt and hamper them.
  After that, they have to negotiate the first bank and, hopefully, a load of vehicles set to explode; then the second bank and the deep ditch. After that, we’re on our own. How many will they bring? Will they be armed? Fuck, what if they’re armed? We’ll be slaughtered. Nothing we can do about that, I suppose we can fall back into the Fort, if we have to, but it won’t take long for them to get through. Mind you, we’ve got the Saxon up top with the GPMG; we can put more rifles and weapons up there and hopefully the cannon with grapeshot, if Dave can sort them out.

Thinking all this through, Howie realises how much they’re relying on the quiet man. Leaving him to rig the estate, which must be a hell of a task, then needing him to work out the cannon too. If they didn’t have Dave, they would be at a loss. Howie knows he would have been dead a long time ago, if not for Dave.
  Thoughts race through his mind, as he slowly paces back towards the south wall, oblivious to the many people who stop and stare at the man with the dark hair and dark features. There is something about his manner and appearance, the way he walks slowly, planting each foot in turn; the faraway look on his face, that puts them off from disturbing him. A few of the less sensitive ones step forward to interrupt his thoughts, only to find strong hands placed on their arms from the more astute people; holding them back with discretely shaking heads.

Children go quiet as Howie walks through the camp, his mind racing with a thousand images and thoughts but his face is stony and grave; eyes down and subconsciously avoiding trip hazards and guide ropes stretched out from the many tents.
  To Howie, it’s like a movie in his mind; an image of grotesque decaying forms racing through the estate with sharpened, yellowing teeth. The traps fail to go off, then they leap over the pits and surge too quickly past the non-exploding cars, only to fall on the weak lines; devouring and wiping them out instantly.

Keep them coming, keep them running after them, until they eventually fall down and die again
.

But then he has an overwhelming desire to fight them. To stand on that line and face them down. Howie thinks back to the feeling of battle; the horror and the fear, the blood and gore, the knowing that, at any point, he could be taken down and killed - only having his own strength and speed to rely on. The feeling of glory, the sense of doing something that is right; standing with his people and fighting with them, charging into almost certain death, but doing so knowing you’re all in it together.

The pull of that feeling is hard to ignore and Howie accepts that there is a big part of him wanting that  final showdown.

Take as many down as you can Howie, and then fight them. They don’t think of fairness or equal sides, so hurt them, cut them down and do what it takes, because that fight will be the end
.
  Howie snaps back to reality, to find that he is in the middle of the camp. There is silence all around him. Howie lifts his head and nods once to the mass of people who stand and stare at him, before walking quickly towards the south wall and back to the reality of planning the impossible.

‘
You’re with me’ Dave says to Jamie.
  ‘Okay,’ Jamie replies
,
getting to his feet.

  ‘You… you… and you two - come with me,’ Dave points to several of the guards nearby, handpicking the ones he had seen fighting; serious men with calm expressions, fit and athletic. They get up and make ready, without question.
  ‘Get some fluids and food, meet us at the gate,’ Dave says, walking away towards the Saxon, Jamie following behind him.

They reach the Saxon, just as Curtis and the rest come out of the planning room. Dave opens the rear doors and climbs in, rummaging through the bench seat cupboards, to pull two heavy, bulging canvas bags out. Dave then exits the Saxon, to see Jamie staring at the bags.
  ‘Grenades,’ Dave explains.
  ‘Okay,’ Jamie replies.
  ‘Leave both of your rifles here, take this and put it on,’ Dave says, handing Jamie a pistol pouch with belt loops at the rear; the black stock of the handgun poking out.
  Jamie hands over the two rifles; Dave slides them into the rear, as Curtis arrives at the vehicle.
  ‘We’re leaving our rifles here, take care of them,’ Dave instructs Curtis.
  ‘Yes, Dave,’ Curtis replies, still making the name
Dave
sound like the word
Sarge
.
  ‘Ammunition,’ Dave says, handing Jamie spare clips for the handgun.
  ‘I’ve never used a handgun before,’ Jamie says.
  ‘I’ll show you,’ Dave replies.
  ‘Okay,’ Jamie says, looping the heavy pouch onto his belt, to his right side.
  ‘Ready?’ Dave asks.
  ‘Yes, Dave,’ Jamie replies.
  They walk towards the gate in silence, each carrying a bag full of grenades over one shoulder; two quiet men with pistols strapped to their sides, walking silently through the camp. They reach the gate and wait in silence for the other guards to catch them up.

Ted appears, smiling.
  ‘Going anywhere nice?’ Ted asks.
  ‘No,’ Dave replies, flatly.
  ‘Oh, right,’ Ted pauses, the smile slowly disappearing.
  ‘We need some vehicles,’ Dave says.
  ‘Okay, how many do you need?’ Ted asks.
  ‘Three,’ Dave replies.
  ‘Anything in particular?’ Ted asks.
  ‘No,’ Dave answers.

Ted walks away into a nearby room, selecting keys from a key cupboard.
  ‘Can you drive?’ Dave asks Jamie.
  ‘Yes,’ Jamie replies.
  ‘Good,’ Dave says.
  Ted returns, handing the keys over, as the four guards reach the gate, each of them with a rucksack on their backs.
  ‘The vehicles are between the walls, to the left,’ Ted says, as they step through the gate.
  ‘Okay,’ Dave answers.
  ‘Funny bugger, that one,’ Ted says, closing the gate behind them.

They walk down the lane, until they reach the vehicles; Dave stopping to look at the keys, then at the vehicles, trying to figure out which key fits which vehicle.
  ‘You’re going on point duty - you each get a radio. One of you has to go to the furthest point out that the radio will reach, keep checking in on channel two, until you lose signal, then come back. The other two, I want on the sides and out as far as the radios will reach. Got it?’ The guards nod back, as they take the radios and switch them to channel two, using the small dial at the top.
  ‘The one furthest out takes one of the vehicles. The other two, out to the sides… one gets a vehicle and you arrange where the other gets dropped off and the pick-up points, in case it goes bent - we keep the other vehicle. You will be there for some time, I will try and get relief for you, but that may not be possible. You are the advance contact points, without you we will not have advance warning of when they come. Do not engage and give away your positions. Report back at the first sight and pull back to the Fort. Got it?’ Dave says, they each nod.
  ‘Stay alert,’ Dave says, handing all of the keys to one of the guards. The man sorts through them then hands a set to Jamie.
  ‘For that one,’ the man points to the first vehicle.
  ‘You get the vehicle ready,’ Dave says to Jamie.

He nods in return and walks over to get into the driver’s side, adjusting the seat and checking through the controls. Jamie glances out to see Dave speaking intently to the other men. Finally, they nod back, with very serious faces, and break away, heading for their vehicles.
  ‘Okay,’ Dave says, getting into the front passenger seat.

Jamie starts the engine and pulls away slowly. They get to the big vehicle gates on the outer wall then Dave gets out and pushes the gates open, waiting for the vehicles to drive through. Jamie pulls over to allow the other two to drive on down the road.

Dave closes the gates and gets back into the vehicle.
  ‘Where are we going?’ Jamie asks, as he pulls away.
  ‘Into the estate, we’re going to set some explosives,’ Dave answers. ‘We also need to sweep as we go.’ Dave thinks of all that Mr Howie and Chris have to contend with; he didn’t need to ask if they wanted the area swept, they have enough to think about.
  Jamie drives down the long, straight road, past the banks and then through the flatlands, finally reaching the housing estate.
  ‘Drive down to the right,’ Dave instructs, as Jamie turns the wheel, going down the road between the two rows of houses - one row on the flatlands side.
  ‘Park at the end,’ Dave says.
  Jamie pulls the car up at the end of the cul-de-sac. They get out and walk round to the back of the vehicle. Dave pulls his pistol out and indicates for Jamie to do the same. Dave then shows Jamie how to load the ammunition clip and pull the sliding top back, to engage the first round.
  ‘They kick quite a lot, use a two-handed grip, same as the sniper rifle - squeeze and fire,’ Dave says.
  ‘Can I fire here?’ Jamie asks.
  ‘Yes, they won’t hear from this distance,’ Dave answers.
  Jamie raises the pistol and copies Dave; firing once - the loud retort sounding out into the quiet air.
  ‘Good, you anticipated the kick without dropping or lifting the weapon. Two shots per target, like this,’ Dave says, lifting his own pistol and walking towards the front door of the nearest house. As he steps onto the garden path, he fires two shots very close together. The rounds strike the door at mid-height, millimetres apart.
  ‘Got it,’ Jamie says, walking towards the same door and firing twice into the same height as Dave hit, both rounds hitting within millimetres.
  ‘Good, we call it a
double tap
, aim for the head, if you can, and be ready to re-load quickly. Don’t be afraid to put it away and go for bladed weapons, if you need to.’
  ‘Okay,’ Jamie answers.
  ‘Show me a re-load,’ Dave instructs and watches Jamie eject the clip, catch it with one hand, drop that same hand down and swap for a fresh full clip and slam it home; racking the top back - all within a second or two.
  ‘Sorry, that was slow,’ Jamie apologises.
  ‘That’s okay, you’ll get faster the more you do it,’ Dave answers. ‘We’ll do the first house together.’
  ‘Okay,’ Jamie replies.
  They move up the path, until they reach the front door. Dave steps close to the front door and stares at Jamie.
  ‘How many windows to the front?’ Dave asks.
  ‘Two on the ground level, two on the first floor,’ Jamie replies, without breaking eye contact.
  ‘Describe them,’ Dave asks.
  ‘The ground floor, far left, appears to be a lounge window; net curtains restrict the visibility, but the curtains are drawn back, which indicate the people are either not at home or were not home when the event happened. The other window looks similar, so it might be a dining room - it does not look like a kitchen,’ Jamie replies.
  ‘Upstairs?’ Dave asks.
  ‘The far left has partial net curtains with curtains drawn back, but there is no view of the inside from ground level. The right side is the same, but the curtains are half drawn across.’
  ‘Are the windows closed or are any of them open?’ Dave asks.
  ‘I think they are all closed,’ Jamie replies.
  ‘Okay, it’s your first time, so I will allow for that, but, in future, remember this - we don’t
think
, we know. Got it?’
  ‘Yes, sorry,’ Jamie replies.
  ‘Good, now the door. Tell me about it?’
  ‘Wooden, inward opening and hinged on the right,’ Jamie replies, looking straight at Dave.
  ‘Good, how many locks and where are they?’
  ‘Central lock on the door handle to the left, letterbox is situated at standard height - I was unable to tell if there are any further locks.’
  ‘Good, how can we tell if the door has further locks?’ Dave asks.
  ‘I don’t know, pressure?’
  ‘Yes, push against the door next to the door handle, does it yield?’ Dave asks and watches Jamie push hard.
  ‘No,’ Jamie answers.
  ‘Now, push at the top of the door, does it yield?’
  ‘Yes slightly,’ Jamie answers, then pushes at the bottom. ‘The base yields too; no locks on the top or bottom.’
  ‘Good, so we know that to force entry we aim for the central lock… now, do we use a shoulder or a foot?’ Dave asks.
  Jamie considers for a split second. ‘A shoulder will risk injury and I don’t think people our size could generate enough force… the foot?’ he asks.
  ‘Correct, men the size of Clarence and Chris can use shoulders, as they have huge amounts of power and strength. Men our size do not, so we use our feet, but, before we do that, what should we do first?’
  ‘Look for a key?’ Jamie replies.
  ‘Good, and also…’ Dave pushes the handle down and the door opens slightly. ‘We check to see if it’s actually locked first.’
  ‘Got it.’
  ‘Room clearance,’ Dave says, as they step into the hallway. ‘Working together we clear as we go, one remains at the door facing out, the other enters, we do not lean around corners with our weapons held out ready to be taken off us. Got it?’
  ‘Got it.’
  ‘Good. We walk in fast, with the weapon held ready to use, we face forward and sweep, like this,’ Dave says, as he enters the first room on the right, pushing the door open with his foot and stepping in quickly.