The Undead Day Twenty (17 page)

She swaps the grenade from her right hand to her left and pulls the pistol from the holster on her hip while pushing the safety off all in one smooth movement. She aims out to sea and plucks the trigger to send the booming retort of the gun across the bay. An intake of air that she expends with one word as she turns to every man and woman now looking at her.

‘INCOMING…’

Nine

‘Oh my. Oh my oh my that was really rather unexpected.’

Blowers sticks his head up from the bundle of bodies. Blinking hard and trying to shove Blinky’s arse from his face.

‘Gracious…yes indeed,’ Reginald says excitedly.

‘Blinky…Blinky…’ Blowers says.

‘What?’ she says, her voice muffled.

‘Arse…get it out my face.’

‘Get Cookey’s knob out of my eye then.’

‘That’s my knob.’

‘Get Nick’s knob out of my eye then.’

‘Indeed. This is most interesting,’ Reginald says, rocking forwards and back on his feet. He looks at Heather and grins. He looks at Paco and grins wider. ‘Hive mind eh? Well, and that was a strong one wasn’t it. Most strong. And from two I might add.’

‘Blowers?’ Cookey shouts from somewhere in the pile.

‘What?’ Blowers grunts, still trying to shove Blinky’s arse from his face.

‘Did you see it?’

‘See what?’

‘See what he asks,’ Cookey says, popping his head free from under one of Clarence’s legs. ‘Charlie, Marcy and Paula were sex wrestling…’

‘We were doing no such thing,’ Paula says, easing back from Marcy.

‘Did anyone else see it?’ Cookey asks, looking round. ‘Oh you lame bastards…seriously it was like the best thing ever.’

‘You think everything is the best thing ever,’ Nick’s muffled voice shouts.

‘No but this was, like it actually was,’ Cookey says. ‘Er…can I get out now please, Clarence?’

‘Why you asking me?’

‘I’m under your leg.’

‘Are you? What you doing down there?’

‘Haha!’ Reginald says. Still grinning at Heather and Paco. ‘Most interesting. Indeed. Yes that was very strong wasn’t it?’

‘Right, everyone sod off,’ Howie shouts. ‘Someone’s on my leg.’

‘That’s me,’ Marcy says.

‘My other leg.’

‘Still me.’

‘What the hell was that anyway?’ Paula asks. ‘Nick, you got any cigarettes, honey?’

‘Er…bit stuck at the moment, Paula.’

‘No idea,’ Howie grunts, trying to work out if it really is Marcy on his legs. ‘You’re not moving…’

‘I can’t,’ she says, ‘Blinky’s on my legs.’

‘Blinky’s arse is in my face,’ Blowers says.

‘I’m under Clarence’s leg,’ Cookey says. ‘But I saw Charlie, Marcy and Paula sex wrestling so…so I don’t really mind.’

‘We were not sex wrestling,’ Paula says, shoving a hand into the bodies. ‘Nick? Where are you?’

‘Here.’

‘Where? Where are the cigarettes?’

‘Pocket.’

‘Which one?’

‘We could get everyone off first,’ Howie says.

‘This pocket?’

‘That’s…whoa! That’s not my pocket.’

‘Oh shit…I am so sorry…that wasn’t your…’

‘No it’s fine…’

‘I’m telling Lilly Paula was sex wrestling then groping Nick’s willy.’

‘Cookey! Which pocket then?’

‘Over a bit.’

‘Seriously, can’t we all just get up first?’ Howie says.

‘That’s my pocket,’ Clarence says.

‘Fuck’s sake,’ Paula says, pulling her arm free. ‘Right, everyone get up. Blinky, come on…’ she grabs a leg to pull which elicits groans and yelps.

‘Hive mind eh?’ Reginald says, still holding that grin at Heather and Paco.

‘Reggie, stop it,’ Paula says, holding Blinky’s leg. ‘You’ll scare them off…just give us a minute,’ she adds with a polite smile to Heather. ‘Blinky, pull your other bloody leg out.’

‘Yes, Miss Paula.’

‘I say,’ Reginald says, peering at the bundle of bodies. ‘You really should get up now.’

‘We’re bloody trying,’ Howie says.

‘Well do hurry up. The fort is most likely being attacked…’

That does it. A massed disintegrating of limbs pulling apart and bodies popping free that stand with wild hair and wild eyes.

‘You said they’ll attack here,’ Howie says, sending Marcy flying a few feet to the side.

‘Well they are not so I would surmise they are attacking the fort instead.’

‘Load up…’ Howie says. ‘We’ll discuss this later.’

‘Too bloody right we will,’ Paula says, running past Heather then stopping to smile awkwardly. ‘Er…so we think the fort is being attacked…’

‘That man just said that,’ Heather says, pointing at Reginald.

‘Reggie,’ Paula says. ‘So we…we need to go…er…jump in Roy’s van.’

‘What?’ Heather asks.

‘The blue van. Jump in…we’ll figure everything out in a minute.’

‘You expecting a big attack?’ Howie shouts, running past Roy’s van.

‘Not excessively so,’ Reginald says. ‘Perhaps a few hundred…’

‘Righto…Maddox? You coming?’

‘Or you can stay here,’ Cookey mutters.

‘Seriously, jump in Roy’s van. It’s only Reggie in the back,’ Paula says, dropping her voice a notch. ‘And he doesn’t stare…much…he doesn’t stare much.’

‘Er…’ Heather says.

‘Come on, we’ve got to go…’ Paula says, grabbing Heather’s hand then reaching for Paco but stopping at the last second. ‘He won’t kill me will he?’

‘No!’ Heather says, glaring at Paula for a second before glancing at Paco. ‘No!’

‘Paula!’

‘I’ll jump in with Roy…come on, the fort’s being attacked.’

‘How do you know that?’ Heather asks, allowing herself to be dragged towards the blue van.

‘Reggie said and he’s never wrong with that sort of thing.’

‘I am never wrong with any sort of thing…oh, are they coming in here?’

‘They are, shift your arse and let Heather sit down.’

‘I’m fine,’ Heather says.

‘Reggie, move your backside.’

‘I said I’m fine,’ Heather says.

‘Fine,’ Paula says, heading for the front as Roy clambers into the driver’s seat. ‘Right…bloody hell that was something else that was…’

‘Wasn’t it,’ Roy says, starting the engine.

‘Roy, you got Charlie with you?’

‘Howie, it’s Paula…she not with you?’

‘I’m in the trailer with Jess, Mr Howie.’

‘…er…why?’

‘For rapid exit. I just need someone to open the door when we arrive.’

‘Are you on the horse now?’

‘Yes, Mr Howie.’

‘How the fuck…you’re sitting on Jess in the back of the horsebox trailer thing?’

‘Yes, Mr Howie. Just need the door opening when we get there.’

‘Now that is dedication,’
Paula says into the radio.

‘Bloody is,’
Clarence replies, his deep voice booming through the speaker in the back of Roy’s van.

‘Wish I was Jess…’

‘
You got Heather and Paco with you?’
Howie asks.

‘Yep, with Reggie…they can hear you by the way.’

‘Can they? Oh…er…so Heather and er…Paco…sorry about all that. We’ll explain later. We’re moving out…’

Heather stares at the speaker then to the front to see Paula shaking her hair out before pulling it back into a ponytail. She looks round to Reginald pulling a notepad from his bag then to Paco watching her intently. Every instinct is still to run and go away but it’s like a huge wave pulling her along so fast she can’t even think to try and swim for freedom.
Go with it
. That’s the voice in her head. Not that she has much choice seeing as the van is now steaming behind the army truck with a horse trailer bouncing behind it. She edges closer to Paco, her hand finding his.

‘You said a few hundred,’ she says to Reginald, swallowing before speaking to get moisture in her dry mouth.

‘Water on the floor, love,’ Paula says, still fiddling with her hair. ‘By your feet, help yourself.’

She looks at Paula then down at the case of water bottles feeling jarred and too slow to react. Water. She’s thirsty. She grabs two bottles, one for herself, one for Paco.

‘Thirsty?’ Paula asks.

‘Yeah I am actually,’ Roy says.

‘Chuck two up please,’ Paula asks.

Heather hands them over and gets two more. One for herself and one for Paco. Again she pauses, thinking fast with a feeling she needs to catch up with the speed everyone else is working at. ‘Water?’

‘Hmmm?’ Reginald asks, glancing up from his notepad. ‘Oh yes, yes please. It is rather hot again today.’

They drink water. In the back of an armoured van she drinks water with a woman on the back of a horse in a trailer behind them while driving to a fort that is being attacked.

‘You said a few hundred,’ she says again.

‘I did,’ Reginald says, lowering his bottle from the tiny sips he was taking. ‘It’s very hard to calculate the precise number as I have not had sufficient time to analyse the surrounding geographical area but yes, I would estimate the opposition to be anywhere from three hundred to a thousand.’

‘A thousand?’

‘That is the most I think the other player will field but yes.’

‘A thousand?’ Heather says again.

‘More likely a few hundred,’ Reginald says as though to give re-assurance.

‘Don’t worry,’ Paula says, leaning round to look back at Heather. ‘Seems a lot but…well, you’ll see. Listen, on that point…Paco can fight?’

‘He can but not against three hundred or a thousand…’

‘It’s fine. Honestly,’ Paula says. ‘You’ll see what I mean. What about you? Can you fight? Marcy and I will probably stay here with Reginald unless it goes completely tits up then we’ll go in…actually, having said that, it’s probably best if you stay with us for the first one until you get an idea of how it works. Can you fire an assault rifle?’

‘No…I…’

‘It’s okay. Honestly,’ Paula says, exuding confidence from every pore of her body. ‘Pistol?’

‘No…I mean I can probably…’

‘Okay, at the back with me and Marcy then. Blowers will run you through the basics when we get a chance….what about Paco?’

‘What?’

‘Will Paco stay back or…’

‘No, if he sees them he’ll attack…he always does.’

‘Okay…
Howie, it’s Paula. Heather will stay with me and Marcy at Roy’s van. Heather said Paco attacks when he sees them so he’ll most likely go in with you.’

‘Roger, got it.’

‘It’s Roy. Want me in with you or overwatch?’

‘Overwatch please mate. Everyone listen in, we secure Lilly first…Dave and Mo, go straight for Lilly. Nick…don’t do a Cookey and run in blind. We go together, we stay together and we push to Lilly together. Clear?’

‘Boss.’

‘Sir.’

‘Clear.’

‘Understood.’

‘Yes, Mr Howie.’

‘I’ll put overwatch on Lilly.’

‘They know what they’re doing,’ Paula tells Heather. ‘You’ll see…’

*

‘We haven’t got a fucking clue what we’re doing,’ Howie says, shaking his head as he pushes his foot harder on the accelerator.

‘Say that again.’

‘We haven’t got a fucking clue…’

Clarence looks over, his face deadpan for a second before the grin breaks. He shifts to look back at the others. ‘She’ll be fine, Nick. She’s immune.’

‘Yep,’ Nick says tightly as Marcy reaches out to rest a hand on his shoulder.

‘She’s nails, mate,’ Blowers says.

‘Hard as,’ Cookey adds.

‘Probably won’t be any left for us,’ Blowers says.

Nick smiles but the worry is there in his eyes. He swallows and looks down to the back to Dave and Mo.

Dave stares back. His eyes unblinking. His whole bearing devoid of expression. ‘I will not allow any harm to befall Lilly, Nicholas.’

Nick blinks and looks away sharply. A sudden lump in his throat. Cookey widens his eyes. Blowers coughs and swallows. Clarence looks at Howie. Marcy exhales slowly. A feeling amongst them. The air thick around them. Howie drives faster.

Ten

The word repeats, mutates and spreads fast. The drivers of the plant machines jump to run down the road. Men and women carrying stacks of goods drop their loads to flee for the beach. Every boat available aims for the shore with engines opened to gain what speed they can. The seeds of panic are sowed, watered and grow roots to drive minds wild as heads turn to see the solid dense wall of human forms running at them.

At the shore side, Doctors Anne Carlton and Andrew Stone try and hold nerve to complete the medical checks of the new arrivals but the panic grips. The threat of the infected coming towards them makes them flee with everyone else towards the boats.

Lilly doesn’t feel panic. The icy determination settles as her cold blue eyes stare at the coming darkness. This is what it feels like then. This is what Nick faces every day. This is what Mr Howie leads them against.

‘Wait there,’ Peter says to his men before walking behind Kyle to fall in next to Lilly. Joan comes forward with Pea and Sam. Gary follows suit. The very few left holding weapons stand back, unsure if they should be running for the boats or waiting here.

Lilly turns to view behind them and the people still running for the shore. She looks out to the sea and the boats trying to get back while the others disgorge the goods they loaded to take on people.

‘You’ve not enough boats there,’ Peter says quietly.

‘Some will have to do two trips,’ Lilly replies. ‘We’ll fight from here,’ she adds, looking to her group. ‘We need to buy time for the boats to get back.’

‘There’s a few hundred coming down that road there,’ Peter says.

‘I can see that,’ Lilly says. ‘We’ll need more magazines,’ she adds to Joan before turning to the older men stood further back. ‘Go down and cover the beach…go back with the last boat and make sure the gates are secured.’

‘You staying here?’ one of them asks, his voice breaking with fear.

‘Now, please,’ Lilly says coldly, turning back to face down the road. The grenades go into her pockets. She draws the spare magazines that are placed on the road at her feet. Every movement is calm. Her hands steady. Her eyes flick up gauging distance to the thick mass coming towards them. This is what Nick has to see every day. This is what the others do. She is one of them. She will hold the line.

‘Nuts,’ Gary mutters, taking a knee next to Lilly to place his magazines on the ground.

‘Is a bit,’ Lilly says. ‘Go back to the fort if you want.’

‘Yeah right’ he says, yanking the bolt back on his rifle.

‘Sam, Pea? You two go back with the others.’

‘Okay,’ Sam says, dropping to take a knee.

‘We’ll do that,’ Pea says, doing the same on the other side.

‘Single shot at first, aim well,’ Joan says, walking in front of them handing out full magazines from a thick black duffel bag.

‘Thank you,’ Lilly says, taking the spares.

‘Thank you,’ Gary says, taking the spares.

‘Thank you,’ Sam says, taking the spares.

‘Thank you,’ Pea says, taking the spares.

Kyle looks at Peter. Peter looks at the coming darkness then down to the five holding the line. Just five. One old woman. One ex-squaddie that should know better and two other women clearly terrified. All of them forming up on an ice-cold young woman staring death in the face without a flicker of fear. That spirit extends with an aura that reaches back to send a pulse of energy into the hard man. He turns and nods once to twelve strong men that stride from the van to take the line. Tattoos on arms and necks. Leathery skin and twinkling eyes that smile down to the old woman, the ex-squaddie, the two women and the ice-cold girl holding them all in place. They take knees. Weapons held. All manner of weapons.

‘You’ll not be kneeling there now, Miss,’ Peter says quietly, resting a hand on Lilly’s shoulder. She rises smoothly to step back as he takes her place, handed an assault rifle by one of his men.

Peter looks left and right up and down the line. ‘Ladies, maybe you’ll be going back to your fort.’

‘And maybe we shall stay right here,’ Joan says, arching an eyebrow.

‘Soldier boy,’ Peter says, lifting his rifle into his shoulder. ‘You’ll be marking the distance now.’

‘Roger that…’ Gary says, rolling his eyes. They get closer. So many of them and sickening in the way they run so perfectly together. The sound reaches them. The crunch of feet hitting the road together. Like a drumbeat that grows. They spread out wider across the road but maintain perfect form. Hearts beat harder. Hands tremble. Nerves fray. Voices in heads tell them to go, to run and never look back.

‘HOLD,’ Gary shouts, sensing the fear rippling down the line. He holds another few seconds. ‘TAKE AIM…’ weapons lift. Some shake from the hands holding them. A ripple of motion from the line extending across the road. Less than twenty against hundreds. ‘Ready, Lilly.’

‘FIRE,’ Lilly shouts.

That small line fires. A booming crescendo of noise that makes every person on the shore spin round to stare in abject terror.

Infected drop. They drop to get trampled and lost from view as that thick snake keeps charging towards them. The weapons fire. Assault rifles. Single shot bolt action rifles, shotguns, pistols and old army issued weapons stolen, pilfered and bought over the years. The sound is immense. The smell of cordite and shot hanging in the air. Ears ring. Shoulders recoil. Infected drop time and again. Lilly fires with them. Single shots but taken fast. Her finger plucking the trigger again and again. They kill many. They see it happen but it seems to make no difference. Every infected that drops is instantly replaced.

‘KEEP GOING,’ Kyle’s voice booms, the power of him resonates as he stands taller, glowering with energy.

Magazines are changed. Bolts yanked back. They fire weapons as fast as they can. Joan gets headshots. Bursting skulls apart one after the other. Pea fires into the mass. Her senses deafened and gone. There is just here. There is just this moment now. Sam changes magazines, knocking the old one out to ram the new one in. She glances at Pea then faces back to do what must be done.

The boats load on the beach to carry the people away to the fort. The drivers fight and argue to stop the people clamouring to get in for fear of capsizing. Shouts sound out. Angry scared people desperate to find safety while the guns fire and the infected charge.

They fire faster. Gary, Joan and some of the men give burst fire from weapons to fell as many as they can. Pea keeps single shots but goes as fast. Sam spits to the side to clear the shit from her mouth.

‘FASTER NOW,’ Kyle thunders. Pacing up and down behind them. ‘FIRE QUICKLY…’

‘We’re trying, Father,’ the man with the Stengun says, the vicious weapon booming louder than all the rest.

Too close now. Too many and no sign of their numbers reducing. ‘We have to dress back,’ Gary shouts, twisting to get Lilly’s attention.

‘DO IT…BACK…GO BACK,’ Lilly shouts. The line rises, staggered and broken to slowly start easing back. Peter glances to the van then forward to the horde and that awful synchronised running. They still get kills and the ones they don’t kill still fall to be trampled underfoot but that sight is worst of all. The merciless nature of the beasts coming at them. The sheer disregard for their fallen kind. The hunger they project. They start screeching too. High pitched and primeval. A solid wall of noise that tightens the balls of fear in the guts of those few. Screams from the beach come back. People running into the sea to try and swim instead of waiting for the boats. Others sob and fall to knees to weep in terror.

‘BACK…’ Lilly changes magazine, ditching the used one to push the new one in. They fall back slowly towards the van. Peter glances again, his face a mask of aggression as he gauges distance.

‘GO BACK NOW,’ he shouts at Lilly then turns to Sam and Pea. ‘GO BACK…TO THE BEACH WITH YOU…FOR THE LOVE OF GOD,’ Peter thunders the words out. ‘FATHER…GET THE WOMEN AWAY NOW…’

The horde breaks uniformity to charge screaming and wild. The pure hatred clear on the fetid twisted faces rushing towards them. The fastest sprint out from the horde. Arms pumping with poise and balance but with lips pulled back showing teeth. The least human yet and another step taken from the species from which they originate.

‘Sam, Pea, Joan…to the beach….NOW!’ Lilly sees how it will end. She can see the numbers coming at them and knows she will stand and fight and die here. The men around her burst for the van, ditching firearms, rifles and shotguns to grab clubs, bats, sticks, swords and bladed weapons.

Chaos on both sides of her. The beach is still too full. The first boats are on their way back. Heads in the sea as people try and swim away. The wild splashes as yet more run into the water. The heat of it. The sheer frenzied last few seconds before that impact comes. In that instance she knows truly what Nick faces and gives honour for knowing him and those he fights with. How so few hold against so many is beyond her. They can’t do that here. They don’t have Howie and in him she knows the power lies. On Howie they form. On Howie they fight.

Something else happens though. Something of a power that is staggering to behold. Kyle walking backwards dragging Sam and Pea with him to force them away. His eyes furious and Lilly sees what the others saw in the kitchen of the golf hotel. She sees that power resonating as the man seems to grow with fire blazing in his eyes. Time slows. Everything in pin sharp clarity. Every noise. Every sight. She can feel the heat bearing down. She can see the faces of the infected and that most terrible of hunger that drives them on. She can see the wild fear fuelled aggression in the faces of the twelve strong men led by Peter who choose to hold a line that means nothing to them except for the honour of a girl who would have stood alone. She sees all of that and more. She sees Nick’s face. The tenderness in his eyes. The love he gave her that was so pure. She sees Paula smiling at her and feels the strength of Clarence when he hugged her like a father. Like her father should have done except he was weak and he failed. She will not fail. She will not allow it. As that snarl comes so she sees Kyle’s face raging as he sweeps between Sam and Pea drawing the pistols from the holsters on their hips as he goes. Those pistols rise in hands that are used to holding such things and forward he goes. Striding with glory and righteous power.

‘BACK YE HEATHENS…’
The voice rolls. The voice booms above all else. The man grows and fires the left then the right. In that instant she tracks the line of the bullets to the heads blowing apart from the perfectly placed shots.
‘GET BACK…STAY BACK…YE WILL NOT WIN…’
Every shot hits. Every shot counts. Lilly ditches her rifle to throw it aside. The thing is useless now. She draws the pistol to stand side on, aiming with a hand made steady by the ice running through her veins.

‘See me,’ she murmurs and fires. One more drops.

‘HEATHENS…FOUL BEASTS THAT YE ARE…’

‘See me...’

‘GO BACK TO SATAN…GO BACK WITH YE TAILS BETWEEN YOUR CLOVEN FEET…’

‘The Father’s a gun toting badass so he is, Peter.’

‘SEE ME...’

Lilly’s arm holds rigid and each new aim is a twitch of ruthless calculation. Kyle’s arms cycle back and forward. The pistols held almost tenderly as he fires and takes the recoil into his arms with a speed that is both stunning and effortless.

‘BACK I TELL YE…’
he fires the left, shooting the arm forward to pluck the trigger.
‘BACK…AWAY FROM HERE…’
the right hand goes forward to fire then drops back as he goes on.

The words he shouts become a weapon as much as the pistols in his hands.
Belief grows. That’s what it is. It’s the belief to stand and hold against something you know is evil. To spite the fear inside and do the right thing for the right reasons. To hold while everyone else runs away. To be steady and keep your nerve. She fires with Kyle. Sending every last bullet they can before the horde impact. The sound of their feet thunders towards her. A seething broiling mass of once human form but now of clawed hands and wild red eyes that drool strands of filthy tainted saliva. Animals. Worse than animals. Unclean beasts that do not belong.

The pressure of it. The pureness of that second. Her eyes steady and holding, knowing they see her unafraid. Without fear. She is one of Howie’s. They know this. She sees the wilt and the sudden fear in their eyes at the sight of her and the words thundered by Kyle. She smiles cold and glorious without regret and without remorse for the lives of their kind she takes.

The horde closes in, pumped and charged despite the prickle of fear. The bullets run out. It’s done. Over. Howie will come and sweep them aside and the big gates of the fort will lock to keep her brother safe but she will die here. As the impact comes so a thick tattooed arm loops round her waist to lift her from her feet. She goes back in Peter’s arms as he twists to pass her on to the next who holds his arm around her waist to pass her back. She gets passed one to the other as the rest rush forward to brace the impact of the horde hitting. A rippling crash of meat against meat. Voices screaming loud. Men roaring as they swing weapons to cleave, hack and butcher. She fights to go back in. Screaming to be let go. Screaming as she sees Kyle with a blade in his hand gripping the hair of a woman as he slits her throat from behind. She’s thrown away. Pushed far to stagger and trip but rallies to go back in. Seeing Gary swinging a machete into the neck of one while Peter swings a sword into the head of another. She draws her knife, goes low and runs hard to rise to fight to stab to kill and feel the hot blood of her enemy on her hands.