‘We won’t need to take it; we’re going to get them on the bikes. More manoeuvrable, faster off the mark. We’ll be in and out before the zombies even turn around.’
I felt like I was the only voice of reason in the house; despite knowing that we had to offer some sort of help to the five people stuck in town, there was no way I was going to let anything we did jeopardise the haven we had here. Apparently I was the only one with that opinion.
Danny had totally bought into the idea. He had trawled the news stations and, in his head at least, had developed a very thorough dossier on the strengths and weaknesses of the creatures outside our wall. He’d found clips of the zombies walking, always slowly, just as Nick and Jenny had claimed. He had footage of them being stopped with fatal head shots, but all we needed to do for proof of that one was step up to the front gate with an ornamental sword in hand.
Danny had even found one newscast where a soldier, talking back over his shoulder at the camera as he patrolled an inner city road, had almost walked right into the jaws of one of those things. With no time to aim his weapon, he had simply extended his right arm with a solid jab at the zombie’s jaw. Danny loved the scene. Slowed it down, rewound it, commentated on it like it was a boxing match.
The male zombie was taller than the soldier, standing at over six foot. His face was unmarked, his fair hair long and floppy in the front. The white shirt he wore was torn open and speckled with blood. He looked more like someone who had crawled out of a car wreck and was entering the first stages of shock than the walking dead. Except for the eyes, of course. The zombie fell to the floor and the cameraman initially backed off as the soldier had taken up a defensive position with his rifle now aiming at the head of the creature. Then he turned and called for the camera to be brought closer. The cameraman zoomed in over his shoulder.
The zombie hadn’t been killed, but had been completely knocked out. The sound from the footage was muted, but it was clear that there was some debate about holding it as a prisoner or not, and then the soldier shot it, a single bullet in the forehead, and the debate was over. More and more film, more and more reasons why Danny and Jenny felt we could do this with next to no risk.
‘But any risk is the difference between life and death,’ I argued. ‘The smallest error and…and… and how are we going to get through the gate, anyway?’
Dan just looked at me and smiled. ‘Matt. If this works, you are going to love it.’
* * *
This time it was Nick who stayed with the children. Danny led me outside while Jenny headed into the kitchen. The numbers of zombies had not increased, but that horrible noise intensified as we crossed the driveway. Danny gave them the finger. He didn’t say anything, just that grin and a look in his eyes I knew meant no good.
The ladder was still leaning against the side of the garage and he picked it up and placed it against the front boundary wall, at the very furthest corner from the gate. As he started to climb the ladder, I caught his pant leg in my right hand. ‘Just be careful, yeah?’
‘Bro, this is a walk in the park.’
He got himself to the top of the wall and immediately started shouting at the zombies, swinging his arms around, bouncing along the wall towards them, then edging back to the corner. I mounted the ladder myself, thinking that if he fell I could be up to the top, pull the ladder up and drop it down the other side in seconds, just like when we brought Nick and his family in. I climbed up enough so I could see just over the wall but could also see the gate, too. I tried my best not to look at the smear of blood still evident on the road.
There was a definite shift in the attention of the monsters, a movement towards the noise Danny was creating. He had gained their attention, that was for sure, but he was not drawing them away from the gate.
‘Danny, this isn’t going to work. Just get down before you…’
‘Have some faith, bro. Here comes Phase Two.’
Jenny came out of the front door with a half full carrier bag. She kept her eyes on us for the few seconds it took her to cross the drive, handed me the bag, and tucked herself into the corner of the wall, where she couldn’t see the zombies and, I guess, couldn’t be seen by them. I looked in the bag. There were two chickens in there. Raw, cut into quarters.
‘You are kidding me?’ I practically snapped back at her. ‘This is our food! We don’t know how long we’re going to have to last on what we’ve got!’
I knew we had more than enough in the cupboards, freezer, and fridge to string this out for a good couple of weeks, but I had to say something.
‘Just give me the bag,’ said Dan, suddenly more sedate now that his moment of reckoning had arrived. ‘And get yourself up here. You are about to see how we’re going to clear the gate.’
I climbed up the rest of the ladder and stood on the side wall, not on the front one with Danny. I could still see the tops of most of the zombies’ heads. I told Jenny what to do if both of us fell down the wrong side, but was not entirely convinced she would be able to react at all if such a situation presented itself.
There was definitely more agitation amongst the zombies as Danny pulled the first lump of raw meat out of the bag.
‘Nice and easy with the first one,’ he said, and dropped it off the wall and onto the edge of the road.
The reaction was instantaneous. They moved as one, just as they had when they had seen Dan’s blood; although they were moving at nothing more than a shuffle, seeing that many advance at once was intimidating. I could suddenly understand why people had been caught by these things. As they approached the raw chicken, the groaning grew louder.
‘MMMMMMMMMMMM!’
They began to jostle each other, those with upper limbs that still worked pushing the weaker ones over into the road or against the wall.
The distance from the gate to the corner where Danny had dropped the meat was about thirty metres. It took the fastest of the zombies nearly forty five seconds to reach it. And when it did, its leg seemed to give way underneath it, and it fell, face first, onto the food, slurping and chewing like a crow on road kill. Almost in the same instant, the others lost interest. Some turned and began to walk back towards the gate. Others simply rotated in circles as if unsure what to do next. Danny made that call for them.
‘There’s more here, you scum!’ he yelled, jumping up and down on the spot.
He was now standing directly over them, so I leant across and hooked my hand into the belt of his jeans. Realising he was taking too much of a risk, he stopped, turned, and acknowledged me with a raised palm. He then starting lobbing the chicken pieces further and further away, into the road, and once again the zombies competed in their macabre race. The last chicken leg landed at least five car lengths away from the corner of the wall. As it hit the ground, Danny started counting out loud.
‘One…two…three…!’ And then he fell silent, signalling that we should both climb down to where Jenny was waiting.
Danny jogged over to the Range Rover and climbed up onto the roof, clapping his hands and whistling. Jenny retreated to the front door of the house, but didn’t go back inside. She obviously wanted to see how this was going to pan out as much as we did. I joined Danny, staying on the ground but positioning myself as I had when I had put the blade through the zombie’s eye the previous day, so I could track the dead’s return.
All the while, we could hear the sounds they made when they were feeding. This was as close as I wanted to get to that sound. I looked up at my brother and, amazed, realised that he completely believed in what he was doing. Suddenly, one of the zombies was back at the gate, staring up at Danny. I had been miles away and I jumped backwards when I saw just how close it was.
Danny laughed, ‘Ha, he’d have got you if the gate hadn’t been there. But look, it took about eight and a half minutes just for them to get back. We can do this, Matt.’
I hated to admit it, but he was right.
* * *
‘So we can get out. But how do we get back in?’
We were back in the house, in the lounge, a news channel on with the sound muted. Danny had left the children playing computer games upstairs while we had caught up on the latest updates. The Forces were taking control of the areas immediately around their bases. Did this mean that help might not be far away? The news also told us that the zombies, even the BBC was referring to them by this name now, tended to congregate near to where human survivors were holed up.
This explained why they had stuck around at our gate and why they had surrounded the hairdressers’ shop and the farm. For what we had planned, this was vital news. Unless there were other humans locked in between the house and town, we shouldn’t run into any more groups of the creatures.
Danny outlined the plan in simple steps, speaking confidently and making it all sound so simple.
He finally looked at the three of us.
‘Now the difficult bit.’
Well, it was good to know he did have some perception of the risks involved in what we were really going to be doing.
‘If we run into any zombies between here and town, we swing left and head up towards the prison, regroup, and try again. If not…’
Danny ran through the crucial stage of his plan. Twice.
Jenny and Nick nodded all the way through. Well, they would be the ones nodding, wouldn’t they? They got to stay safe within the walls the whole time.
‘As long as we keep
those
busy,’ Jenny said, thumbing in the direction of the front of the house, ‘then getting back in really is the easiest part. And then you use the same route but in reverse until we’ve rescued them all.’
‘If we wear our full leathers, it’ll take more than a glancing blow to draw blood.’
‘Okay, but how do they feel about taking such a risk?’ I butted in, worried over whether those we were rescuing would actually agree to our plans. ‘Have you even asked them?’
Frankly, I hoped this would be the deal-breaker.
Dan fixed me with a look. ‘Bro, they’re going to starve.’
I sighed slowly, contemplatively. ‘Then what choice have I got? When are we doing this, Danny?’
‘If it’s dry, first thing tomorrow morning.’
We spent the early part of the evening rooting through the garage and shed to accumulate as many weapons as we could. Danny’s obsessing in front of the television and computer had provided another potentially lifesaving gem of information: the zombies, right across the nation, had not yet worked out that glass broke. According to Danny, they had also not realised that animals were food; maybe sheep and cattle didn’t smell quite right to them anymore. I wondered whether there had been any horses in the stables at the farm.
But the fact that they didn’t even attempt to break in anywhere, even where they knew there were people, made us feel that although we were taking a risk by opening the gates. Many of the doors inside had locks on them, so there would be a way to barricade ourselves in, and if push came to shove, access to the loft was possible from the pull-down ladder in the hatch in the spare bedroom.
The garage didn’t offer much in terms of weaponry. A baseball bat that could be cut down for one of us to carry inside our motorbike jacket on our journey into town, a few broomsticks that could be sharpened at one end, a grass rake with pretty strong prongs, and an old motorbike chain, one end of which Danny covered in masking tape to create a makeshift grip. We had the sword, of course, and that remained leaning on the inside of the front door, ready for action.
Danny and I headed down to the shed while Nick and Jenny spent some time with the children and cooked food for the seven of us. As we walked, I tried to see if Danny was sure we could achieve our goal or if he was simply caught up in the moment.
‘We don’t know these people, Danny. Is all this worth the risk?’
‘We didn’t know Nick or Jenny or the kids until they came knocking. Would you have thrown them out if another hundred zombies had followed them to our front door? No. I know you wouldn’t. I’ve been chatting with Claire and Susan on the internet, and they are just normal people. They’re nice and they don’t want to die. We can do something about it.’
The shed was, as it always had been, unlocked. It was big, about two metres wide and four metres long, with a door that faced out into the garden. I pulled the door open and stepped inside, right into a face full of cobweb. There was no electricity feed out to the shed but there was enough light in the cold evening for us to see. Due to its size, the frame of the shed was solid and thick rafters ran along both its length and width. Danny reached up and swung on one, exaggerated his grunting as he worked a few chin-ups.
‘If we decide to throw charcoal bricks and wood kindling at them, then we’ll be okay,’ I said, pulling a three-quarter full sack out of one of the corners. ‘No, wait, here we go.’
A shovel, some rope, and, most importantly, a handheld woodchopper were behind the bag.
Danny grabbed the axe and started swinging it around, a little too close to me for my liking.
‘Take it easy, will you? Come on; let’s go show them what we’ve found.’
‘Just one second, bro.’ And he was off, up the garden and onto the driveway. I realised what he had in mind as I tried to catch up with him, and by the time I made it to the drive, he was already on the bonnet of the Range Rover with the axe firmly embedded in the forehead of a female zombie. Thick, dark blood had spurted across the windscreen of the SUV and Danny was now trying to wrestle the axe head back out of her skull as the lifeless body tried to collapse to the ground.
The noise from the remaining zombies changed. The moaning became higher pitched, almost like cats wailing. Their feet stomped with more effort, some making slapping sounds as they impacted the tarmac, others slushing in the remains of the dead. Suddenly the axe came loose; the backward force Danny had been exerting came into play and the axe pin-wheeled through the air back over his head, landing just a few inches short of my feet.