British Zombie Breakout: Part Three
Read British Zombie Breakout: Part Three Online
Authors: Peter Salisbury
Tags: #horror, #adventure, #zombie
British Zombie
Breakout – Part Three: Zombies Go Global
Peter
Salisbury
copyright Peter
Salisbury December 2011
Cover painting
by Daphne Coleridge
Smashwords
Edition license notes:
This edition is
for your personal enjoyment only. No part of it may be copied,
distributed or re-distributed by any means in any form, whether on
paper, electronically or online without the express permission of
the author.
This story is
entirely fictitious and any resemblance to any person or place is
entirely coincidental and unintentional
Table of
Contents
Chapter 1:
The Last Of The Zombies?
Chapter
10: If It Wasn't You, Who Was It?
Chapter 12:
Zombies Turn Up The Heat
Chapter
1: The Last Of The
Zombies?
The last of the
captive zombies were so far gone they hadn't responded to the new
vaccine. Five bodies were burnt in the Facility incinerator. A
sample of fully infected zombie blood had been removed from the
twisted corpses before they were destroyed and an extract placed in
a single phial within a computerised safe. Only when the miserable
wretches had been reduced to ash would the Zombie Alert Status be
returned to zero.
'Surely,
Mason,' The Minister said through an encrypted line, 'keeping even
one phial of the stuff means you're making the same mistake as your
predecessor?'
'Smith was
careless with testing vaccines, not with how the sample was
kept.'
Professor
Albert Mason put his feet up on the steel edge of his desk and
swung back in his chair. He'd be glad to spend some time away from
the Breathdeep Biological Research Facility. In a day or two it
might actually be possible to get away from the stench of zombies,
from having to maintain the strictest bio-hazard protocols, and at
the same time assist the army in tracking down the zombies which
had escaped.
'So, Mason, my
sources tell me the army picked up the fugitives from
Kilkorne.'
'That's
right.'
'How far did
they get?'
'They managed
to stay ahead of the zombies, until the showdown at Stannicvale.
That was the worst encounter yet. The commander in charge said he'd
never seen such ferocity from the zombies. Blood, bits and slime
everywhere. Not a single one was taken alive. The southern part of
the town is the most horrendous source of infection.'
'Where are the
fugitives now?' the Minister said, ignoring the major issue of the
clean-up operation that would be required after the zombie
battle.
'They'll be
held in quarantine until I get them back here,' Mason lied. The
fugitives' location was to remain a secret, especially from the
Minister and they certainly weren't going to be kept at
Breathdeep.
'So they're
infected?'
'Too early to
tell for sure.'
'I thought your
army commander friend had given orders to shoot on sight.'
'I guess the
guys who actually found them drew the line at women and kids.'
'But you'll
arrange some sort of infection incident after you get them at the
Facility; put them in a cell that's not been cleaned out or
something?'
'That's not
hard to arrange.'
'You'd better
not drop the ball on this one, Mason.' The Minister's tone was
stern, displeased at the professor's evasion. 'Because right now
the detector gadget is going into production at the factory I've
acquired. This is going to be an absolute gold mine.'
'The Zombie
Detector Torch, ZDT.'
'ZedDeeTee, or
as the Americans will call it the ZeeDeeTee. Got quite a ring to
it: they'll love that. I'll use it in the ads.'
'I'd have liked
to work on optimising it first.'
That wasn't
anywhere near truth; during the latest crisis Albert Mason had
worked, eaten and slept at the Breathdeep Facility. In the past
week, he'd done little else than try to stay one step ahead of the
marauding zombies, while they bled, drooled and littered the
countryside with their rotting body parts. In fact, he couldn't
wait to get away for a night or two, so the last thing on his mind
was improving the ZDT.
'You said the
thing worked better than anything you'd tried before.'
'Always room
for improvement.'
'That's good to
hear because in a few months' time, I can be selling the new,
improved model and everyone who bought the first version will want
to upgrade.' The Minister laughed, unpleasantly.
'You're going
world-wide on this, then?'
'Absolutely. As
soon as you confirm to me the fugitives are out of the way, I'll
make an announcement to the world press.'
'It would be
inconvenient to have someone lodging a patent on your
invention.'
'Your
invention, Mason; you simply didn't realise how much it was worth
when you 'sold' me the rights.'
'I'll keep you
informed of what you need to know.' Albert Mason had no intention
of passing any useful information to the Minister for Home Affairs.
He was a ruthless, conniving man, who would rather see a teenager
die of zombieism in a dirty cell, than have the lad who invented
the ZDT get the recognition he deserved. Mason's plan was to have
the escapees from Kilkorne recovered to safety and make sure the
Minister was arrested before he had chance to even announce the
existence of the detector torch.
After ending
the call with the Minister, the professor took a long draft of
coffee from a plastic cup on his desk. It was no longer even warm,
the coldness increasing its bitterness. He'd have drunk anything to
remove the taste of the conversation with the Minister. Swinging
his feet back down to the floor, he straightened his back and
grasped the VHF radio from beside the computer keyboard. After an
exchange of passwords, he was patched through to Commander Douglas
Hodgeson.
'Doug, how's it
going?'
'The fugitives
are safe,' said the man who controlled anti-zombie operations
across the south west of England. 'I personally checked them with
the torch you gave me.'
'And?' Mason
was on the edge of his seat.
'Clear, all of
them. I'm sending you bloods of course.'
Mason let out a
heavy sigh. 'Thanks for keeping them safe.'
'Priority old
boy, 'til we get the Minister.'
'You're taking
the escapees up to London?'
'And I'll have
another unit take the Minister into custody.'
'None of the
men in that unit have any connection to him?'
'Totally
trustworthy. Don't worry.'
'The guy's such
a snake, a real "every man has his price" type.'
'That's why I'm
not leaving it up to the local boys.'
'OK, well you
need to move quickly. If he catches wind of any of this, he'll be
gone.'
'Like I say,
don't worry. We're flying in; take off in five.'
'Let me know as
soon as it's done.'
'Of course.
Then we start on the clean-up.'
'Your best bet
will be at night, using the helicopters with the spray equipment
and the high power UV lights to track down all the body parts and
anything else the infectees have left.'
Hodgeson
laughed, 'You mean the zombies.'
Chapter
2:
Interruptions
The ten
fugitives from Kilkorne were stationed in a secure location in
London. Their potential to become overnight celebrities meant also
that they had to be absolutely guaranteed clear of the zombie
virus. It was quite a blow not to have been immediately reunited
their families, however that could not happen while the Minister
was still at large. Their anxious relatives were paid personal
visits by security personnel who made it clear that although they
were in no danger, the fugitives must remain in quarantine and that
there must be no contact with them for several days. Still rampant
zombie paranoia meant that any release of information to the press
was prohibited.
While the
Commander posted guards on the fugitives, somehow the Minister
managed to evade being taken into custody.
'Doug have you
got him yet?' Professor Mason asked in a routine update.
'It's
incredible, each time my men get close, he vanishes. It's as if
he'd anticipated being on the run and been planning this for
months.'
'Sounds just
like him.'
'At least this
cat and mouse game as put an end to any public appearances and
interrupted his programme for the ZDT.'
'Maybe so but
I'd be trying to predict what other schemes he'll be planning to
bring into play.'
Since being
placed in an inconspicuous but comfortable hotel, it was still
unclear to the fugitives, whether they had been captured or
rescued. After being on the run for several days, it felt weird
being trapped in a building which was guarded round the clock,
supposedly for their protection. They were permitted no phone calls
or other means of communications to the outside world. Despite
having been inoculated with the latest vaccine, they were to be
kept there until the end of the isolation period. Each member of
staff and all of the guards had been inoculated. Everyone kept a
close watch on each other for early symptoms, including involuntary
baring of teeth and snarling or tingling and loss of feeling in the
limbs. No-one expected the fixed stare, drooling, biting or extreme
aggression of the later stages which foreshadowed the gradual and
prolonged decomposition of the body.
After three
days in the south London hotel, the fugitives neared the end of
their quarantine period. It was seven in the evening and they were
settling down to a final dinner before being released after
breakfast the following morning.
'Where's
Steven?' Janet said, looking around the dining room. The escapees
were taking their seats at a large oval table previously used by
the hotel for weddings and birthday parties.
'Steve's in the
TV lounge,' Alex said.
'Didn't he hear
the dinner gong on the PA?'
'Sure, I was
right next to him but he wanted to see the last five minutes of
some science programme we were watching.'
'Well, I would
be grateful…'
'I'll get him
at once, Mrs Reynolds.' Alex left the room as the waitress began
serving starters.
Five minutes
later Alex hadn't returned.
Janet sighed
and put down her spoon. 'This is becoming just a little tiresome,'
she said.
Maisie glanced
at her friends Fred and Rachel. 'Do you want us to, like, go and
find them, Mrs Reynolds?'
'I think we've
got quite enough young folk wandering around, thank you!'
'I'll go,'
Sarah said, jumping up. 'My starter's a cold one anyway, you eat
your soup.'
Within a
minute, Sarah's voice broke from Janet's walkie-talkie. 'They're
not here, Janet. The place is in a bit of a state, actually.'
Janet stood up,
her napkin falling across her bowl, a dark stain of tomato soup
spreading from one corner. She grabbed the walkie-talkie and
squeezed the talk button. 'State?'
'Coffee table
turned over. Cups, cushions on the floor.'
'Graham, call
them on the PA, if you would.' Janet ran to the TV lounge along the
ground floor corridor, past reception with its four armed guards
and locked outer doors. One of the guards fell in behind her.
Graham's voice crackled out of the hotel PA system and echoed
around the empty hallways, ' Steven, Alex! Report in immediately
please.' He repeated the message three times but there was no
response.
Back in the
dining room, Bill looked across at his wife and rolled his eyes.
'What's the panic? We've all seen the way Steve and Alex look at
each other the past couple of days.'
