Zombie Castle (Book 1) (4 page)

‘Look out!’ my neighbour screamed at the screen. We watched transfixed as the other zombies literally fell on the two struggling men who, by now, had fallen to the ground. Live on television we watched as they were literally torn apart and devoured by their attackers.

The view switched abruptly to the studio, as someone had clearly realised that it was too much for people to see. The news anchor sat looking stunned, unable to say anything. The screen went to a commercial break.

My neighbour immediately changed over to BBC One, as that channel offered uninterrupted, commercial free, viewing. The screen showed a message stating that they were experiencing technical difficulties and that normal service would be resumed as soon as possible. He flicked through all the other channels; they all showed the same message.

We looked at each other in shock. What the hell was going on?

I turned and ran into our caravan. The children were still in the playground, waiting for us to tell them when it was time to leave.

‘Talking again!’ said Becky irritably. ‘We’re supposed to be going out for the day and all you do is stand around chatting to people. I saw you..’

I stopped her halfway through her tirade, shouting, ‘Just shut up! Something fucking weird’s going on. I’ve just watched someone being eaten alive on TV. I need to find out what’s happening.’

Becky looked at me in shocked silence. We know each other so well she realised immediately that I was deadly serious.

‘What?’

‘You heard me. I‘ve just seen a news reporter and his cameraman being eaten by other people live on the news!’

‘Where?’

‘Somewhere in London I think.’

I turned the TV and the radio on. The TV was still showing the technical difficulty message so I tried the radio. None of the pre-set national stations were broadcasting, so I started to scan manually. Without turning round I said, ‘Go and get the kids NOW darling.’

I managed to find a working station. I didn’t know which one it was but I guess that was irrelevant. The presenter was screaming excitably.

‘Please everyone, just listen. I don’t know how or what is happening. It’s not a joke. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Thousands of people have turned into what I can only describe as… zombies… and are attacking everyone. Please find somewhere safe. I can see them now out of my window. Until the authorities can sort this out don’t, for God’s sake, go outside.’

He was rambling and speaking ten to the dozen, which made him all the more convincing. It definitely sounded true; he’d have to have been a very good actor to be faking that.

Becky came in, pushing the children in front of her. They were both looking upset and a little bewildered at having their playtime interrupted by an overwrought mother.

As they entered the caravan the presenter shouted, ‘RUN! For God’s sake get away…………! I’m sorry, I can see someone walking down the street below my studio. I can’t get her attention and she’s heading straight for them.’ In the background you could hear the sound of banging on glass. ‘I can’t get her attention. I can’t open the windows here. Hold on, I’ll try to break the glass. Oh God, she can’t hear me!’ The banging grew more frantic and then…. ‘Nooooooo!’ A few seconds later there was silence, apart from the sound of the presenter retching.

We all stood there, momentarily immobilised by shock. Finally the silence on the radio was broken by the presenter. His voice was quiet this time, hoarse with emotion.

‘I’m sorry but I can’t begin to describe what I’ve just witnessed. I can only explain that a crowd of zombies has just slaughtered someone in the street below me. They’re still feeding on the poor woman. Jesus Christ!’ He began to cry, ‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered, ‘I tried to get your attention but you just couldn’t hear me.’ All we could hear then was sobbing, as the man broke down completely.

Becky looked at me, pale as a ghost. ‘WHAT is going on?’

‘You know as much as I do,’ I replied grimly. ‘Ten minutes ago that bloke next door called me over because of what he was seeing on TV, and you’ve just heard what that DJ saw. I haven’t got a clue. But the one thing I do know is this is no joke. It can’t be. It just can’t. But zombies! For fuck’s sake! It can’t be real.’

I saw Stanley smile and look up at me and realised that I’d sworn in front of the children.

‘Sorry Stanley,’ I added hastily, ‘just ignore dad for a bit. I need you both to stay in the van for a little while. I need to have a word with mommy.’

I motioned for Becky to follow me outside. The man from next door was standing on his step having a cigarette. His hand was shaking visibly. He walked over as soon as he saw us.

‘The TV’s on, but all the channels are just showing an emergency broadcast. It’s a message telling everyone to stay at home and avoid contact.’

I walked over to his window and looked in at the TV.

True enough, a text message was rolling across the screen: ‘
National Emergency Message. Please stay in your house. Avoid all contact with anyone. Monitor 1050mz on medium wave for information updates.
’

‘I’ve just checked the radio and it’s broadcasting the same info,’ said our neighbour from behind me.

Becky joined us. Looking up, we saw the children watching us anxiously through the caravan window.

‘Tom, what’s going on, why have all the stations stopped broadcasting?’

‘Becky, as I said, you know as much as me. But as crazy as it might sound, we have to believe what we’ve heard. Somehow or other, there are zombies attacking people. What we need to know is where they are. We have to take this seriously.’

My neighbour spoke up, shaking his head. ‘This is stupid. It can’t be happening. It has to be a joke or something. Zombies don’t exist!’

‘Well you explain what we’ve just seen and heard then!’ I shot back. I would dearly have loved for it to be one big hoax but somehow I knew it wasn’t. I had a gut feeling.

He looked at me. I could see that he wanted to deny what was happening but his eyes were full of fear. He wanted to believe it was all fake because he didn’t want to comprehend the alternative.

As we stood there, I thought back to a conversation I’d once had with a group of friends at a dinner party. We’d been talking about the latest films we’d seen and the conversation had turned to the number of zombie films that had been released lately. I’d joked that it was all to prepare us for a coming apocalypse so that it wouldn’t come as a shock when it finally did happen. I’d laughed and said that we’d be better prepared to defend ourselves because knowing how to kill a zombie would be an essential bit of information. In short, I’d suggested that all the films were part of a government-sponsored education programme to teach civilians how to survive. Everyone knew, I’d informed them, that you have to destroy the brain to kill a zombie!

I turned to Becky, ‘Darling, we have to take this thing seriously until we’re told otherwise. Look around! This is no place to be if we’re attacked. And a caravan won’t give us enough protection. We need to get home. I say, we leave the caravan here and go now before panic sets in.’

Becky was shocked. ‘You can’t be serious!’

‘I am! I say we leave the caravan here and get home as quickly as we can. If it all turns out to be nothing we can always come back for it in a few days’ time.’

‘What do we tell the kids?’

I thought about it. ‘The truth I guess. Because if it is really happening, we’ll all need to be prepared.’

Becky and I looked at each other for a moment, then we both ran into the caravan. The children were sitting there quietly. They knew something was wrong.

I took a deep breath then spoke, ‘Kids, we’re going to leave right now and go home. We won’t be taking the caravan so while mommy and daddy get things ready, you need to pack your bags with a few clothes and some toys. Becky, pack up as much food and drink as you can while I throw some of our clothes and some other stuff into a bag.’

It didn’t take long for me to grab a bag and empty the overhead lockers where we kept our clothes. As I was taking the body boards and towels out of the car, I had the first of many strange conversations with myself. If we come across a zombie, what will I kill it with?

I hold a shotgun licence and have a number of shotguns at home, so one of those would have been my weapon of choice. But until we got there and I took them out of my gun-safe, I was going to have to make do with whatever was available. Thinking back to all the zombie films I’d seen, I went and rummaged through the storage locker at the front of the caravan and took out the broom and a roll of duct tape. I took the kitchen knives out of the kitchen drawer, and put one in the door pocket of the car. Then I removed the head of the broom, taped a knife to the handle and managed to make a rudimentary spear.

‘What on earth are you doing?’ said Becky in astonishment, as she emerged from the caravan carrying a cool box and two bags full of food and bottles of water.

‘Making a bloody spear,’ I snapped, ‘What do you think I’m doing? Stanley!’ I shouted, ‘can you find your cricket bat and put it in the back of the car.’

She put the bags down and sighed. ‘Is this really necessary?’ she asked.

‘Darling, if this actually turns out to be true, we need to be able to defend ourselves. So unless you can think of another way, I figure it’s better to be safe than sorry.’ With a wry grin on my face I continued, ‘Twenty minutes ago I was packing body boards. Now I’m making a zombie spear. Let’s not talk about what’s necessary or not. I think, unless we hear otherwise, normal has just gone out of the window!’

A few minutes later everything had been hastily thrown into the back of our Volvo XC90. Warning the children to be careful of the knife, I put my spear and Stanley’s cricket bat on top of the pile.

My neighbour was still outside, pacing backwards and forwards and chain smoking.

‘We’re off mate!’ I shouted. ‘Look after yourself, and if it’s all a hoax we’ll be back in a few days.’

He nodded, a dazed look on his face.

As I started the car, I glanced at the fuel gauge. ‘Shit!’ There was only a quarter of a tank. Nowhere near enough to get home.

‘Let’s hope the garages are still open,’ I muttered. ‘We haven’t got enough fuel to get out of Cornwall, let alone home.’

As we drove out of the caravan site it looked as if some of the other families were hurriedly packing their cars. That worried me. ‘This journey could get interesting. If other people have come to the same conclusion as us about what’s going on, we’re going to have to be careful. People are capable of doing stupid things when they’re panicking.’

As I drove as fast as I dared along the narrow lane, Becky tried to find a working station on the radio.

‘See if you can find that channel the TV message was on about, 1050 medium wave wasn’t it?’

It didn’t take her long to find it. The message had now been replaced by someone making an announcement:

‘This is the Emergency Public Broadcast Service for Her Majesty’s Government. We have very little information about the current situation but this is what we know so far. A global virus has broken out. Victims initially develop cold like symptoms but then develop severe psychosis. In other words, they become extremely violent and irrational. Reports are coming in of people being attacked and bitten and the death toll is rising.’

The voice paused and then continued. ‘Please avoid all contact with other members of the public until we can discover more about the situation. Do not travel! Stay where you are. We will continue to provide updates when we can. Monitor this frequency at all times. Until then this message will continue to be repeated.’

The message began again, so Becky turned the volume down. We just looked at each other. Daisy, who had been listening to every word, started to cry.

I spotted a petrol station up ahead and slowed to pull in as Becky turned round to comfort her. I breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared to be open. The lights were on and there was a car at one of the pumps. I pulled up alongside one of them, looked round at them and said, ‘Everyone stay in the car.’

The pump had a self-service function, so I inserted my credit card and started to fill the tank. Glancing nervously around, I couldn’t see where the other driver was, so I assumed that he or she must be somewhere in the shop or maybe using the toilet. A few minutes later the tank was full. Replacing the nozzle and retrieving my credit card, I walked around the car to check that everything was ok.

As I could now see the other car from a different angle, I realised that a pair of feet was sticking out from the side of the car. A feeling of unease crept over me. Not wanting to, but knowing that I was going to have to, I crept cautiously over to the car. As I got closer I heard a strange grunting sound. It reminded me of the noise a pig makes while foraging.

Slowly, scarcely daring to breathe, I leant forward to look around the bonnet of the car. I jumped back in shock and screamed. Something wearing a uniform with the garage brand on it had its face buried in the gaping bloody cavity of what had once been its poor victim’s stomach. On hearing my scream, the creature raised its head. Its face, almost unrecognisable as that of a human being, was smeared with blood and it looked directly at me and snarled like a wildcat laying claim to its meal. Backing away, and almost falling over in my haste to get away, I stumbled back to my car.

Grabbing at the handle of the door, I yanked it open, threw myself into the seat and slammed the door again. Taking a few breaths to calm down, I turned to Becky and said shakily, ‘It’s NOT a hoax!’

‘What do you mean?’ She was looking at me when Daisy let out a single high pitched scream from the back.

The zombie had made its way over to our car and was standing behind it. It stared vacantly through the rear window, a piece of intestine still hanging from its mouth, which moved as it tried to chew and swallow it.

Daisy’s scream attracted its attention and it made its way clumsily round the side of the car. Its shirt was blood soaked and shredded and I could see what looked like livid bite marks on its arms and body.