The Common Cold (Book 1): A Zombie Chronicle (5 page)

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Authors: David K. Roberts

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BOOK: The Common Cold (Book 1): A Zombie Chronicle
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The shop was empty of people, well, almost. Two policemen were
slumped on the floor, propped up against the soft-drink and sandwich counter.
They looked bad; both had what appeared to be bite marks on their hands, and
one had a chunk taken out of his left cheek. They were certainly on the turn,
their complexions pale, rings under their eyes, skin drawing back outlining the
bone around their eye sockets. Daniel cautiously approached and checked them
over, the officers barely acknowledging his presence. Both were armed, with a
holstered pistol and rifle across their chests. They were those modern plastic
guns, Heckler and Koch, if Daniel’s memory served him correctly.

Rob, checking the shutter wasn’t going to be opened easily
from the outside, came over to look more closely at their wounds.

“They’re turning. Have you tried to talk to them?”

“Not yet,” Daniel replied, “I’ve been looking at their
wounds. They seem to have been attacked by those things out there.”

“Can I suggest you don’t get all medical on them. They’re
going, and soon they’ll be a danger to us.”

“Yeah, I know. It just seems so brutal.”

“Danny, suck it up, bud. We’re on Shit Alley, about to
embark on a paddle-less
journey
up Shit Creek. Help
me take their guns from them, they don’t need them anymore.” Rob was matter of
fact about their predicament and the things they would have to do to survive;
he was coming to terms with his new environment faster than Daniel. Perhaps it
was the American heritage; the preponderance of guns and conspiracy theories in
recent years, that made the transition easier for him to accept, or at least
come to terms with.

Between them, they took the pistols and rifles from the
officers, who offered no resistance. They now had a couple of spare magazines
of ammunition each, so, with this firepower, they were now loaded for bear,
according to Rob. With a little tuition, Daniel felt more at home with his new
weaponry. He’d used shotguns at his public school, and had been a marksman
during his time in the Combined Cadet Forces on both Lee Enfield bolt-action
and Martini action rifles. Anyway, it seemed his wish had come true; he had his
fucking big guns.

Chapter 6
Stand By Me

The Infected pursuing them had given up banging on the steel
shutter, losing interest in their erstwhile prey. Unfortunately, they also
chose to loiter aimlessly outside the entrance, just like a bunch of feckless
teenagers hanging around the local off-licence.

“So, looks like we’re here for a little while now,” Rob
said, peering through the slits of their defence. Looking at the policemen on
the floor, he continued. “We need either to end it for these guys, or wait
until they turn into whatever these things are, and then do it.”

“I’m in no hurry to off a couple of cops; I’d rather wait
until they turn, I reckon it will be pretty obvious when that happens.”

“Glad you said that. I don’t really want to add actual
murder to our list of achievements for today.”

Daniel looked around the shop and saw the perfume counter.
Of course, he thought, I’d better let Janet know about our fragrance trick.
Pulling out his phone and checking the battery level, he saw it was already
fifty per cent used up. God, these old iPhone batteries sucked; they used
battery power like it was going out of fashion. He tapped in Janet’s number and
it began to connect. It was ringing, great.

“Hi,” Janet spoke, her voice a whisper.

“Hi, babe. Are you still in the library?”

“Yes, that bloody monster won’t go away from the door.” She
sounded stressed, more so than before. “I’m not sure if we’ll ever get away
from here.”

“Well, Rob and I have come up with a way to make them less
interested in us. Have you got any perfume on you?”

“What? Yes, in my handbag. Why?”

“Which one is it?”

“Poison.”

“Good, I’ve never really liked that one. It’s too strong.”

“I like it,” she replied defensively.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. The point is, it’s strong and
it should work.”

“You’re talking in riddles,” she interrupted, irritably.
“Get to the point.”

“Okay, don’t be so touchy,” Daniel replied, trying to smooth
the frayed edges a little. “Rob and I sprayed ourselves all over with his
aftershave. It appears to have worked, as the zombies didn’t show any interest
in us. We think it’s the live human smell that attracts them, especially if
we’re frightened. We got most of the way down a main road here, without them so
much as looking at us. Spray yourselves, and see if that creature loses
interest.”

“What do you mean, almost?” Janet was astute, and always
knew when Daniel was holding something back. She could sniff out a lie or
omission from two hundred paces.

“Sorry?”

“You said you almost got to the end of a road without them
showing any interest?”

“Nothing, don’t worry. We’re holed up in a chemist right
now, on Cannon Street Station. We’re okay,” he said, emphasising the last word.
“We’ve got guns as well.”

“Guns! What do you mean you’ve got guns? Have you gone
completely mad?” she hissed. “Where did you get them? What do you know about
guns?” The questions were coming thick and fast; they didn’t have time for
this.

“First of all, we didn’t commit a crime to get them.
Secondly, both Rob and I can use guns. I think you’re worrying about the wrong
things, right now. Calm down, please, or you’ll attract the attention of that
thing outside your door.”

She sighed, exasperated, but realised he was right. Her
stress levels were through the roof. Now wasn’t the time to discuss such
irrelevancies. “Oh, for God’s sake, this is all just going from bad to worse.
If you’ve got guns, can you come and get us then? We’ll stay put in here,” she
replied, resignedly.

“That might be the right thing to do. Are there any more of
those things in the library?”

“Not that I saw, although I did see a children’s group when
I arrived. I reckon they must have run off by now. Can’t think they’d stay
around with the weirdo out there.”

Daniel thought for a moment. He hoped there was just the one
zombie in the library. If they remained quiet and out of sight, they’d be safe.
These things didn’t appear to actively hunt, not that he’d seen anyway.

“Good, whatever you hear or see out outside the room you’re
in, don’t go out and try to play heroes. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t say
how long it will take to come and get you, we don’t know what’s between here
and Eltham. We’ll just do our best to be as quick as possible. If you stay in
one place, then you need to stay out of sight. Okay?”

“I’m sure we can do that. I’ll try the perfume trick, see if
it works.” She rummaged through her bag, “good, it’s almost full.”

“Brilliant. Listen, my battery is running low, so perhaps we
should text for now, keep my battery going a little longer. And yours.”

“Sure,” she sounded disappointed.

“Maybe I can find a charger in this store, but for now…”

“Alright. I love you,” she said, making no effort to hang
up.

“I love you, too. I’ve got to go now. Bye.” In spite of his
desire to keep the connection going, he pressed the disconnect button, and the
line was cut. Now he felt down, lost. He was very glad his friend was with him;
it would go a long way towards making this situation more bearable, endurable,
even possible. Right now all he wanted to do was scream, make a noise, anything
to rail against an unfair world. If only he’d not gone into the office this
morning, taken the day off sick instead, then maybe he and Janet would be
together, facing this as one. But then his friend would be facing this
situation on his own as well. There was no right side for the coin to land on.

He looked up. This was quite a big store, maybe they did
have a charger.

“Rob, can you keep an eye on these two? I need to see if
they sell a suitable charger for my phone.”

“Yeah, sure. While you’re at it, they do sell rucksacks.
Grab a couple and load them with aftershave, water and food. These sandwiches
will do just fine,” he said pointing at the shelf stacked with fresh produce.
Rob was taking charge; he was clearly in his element.

Daniel hurried over to the electronics counter. Walking
around to the staff side, he nearly tripped over a young sales assistant, lying
on the floor, clearly dead, blood covering her white coat. Her throat had been
ripped out. Even if she could have come back to life, and that didn’t look
likely in this case, there would be no support for her head. The blood and gore
all over the floor, its coppery smell making its way to his nostrils, made him
retch. He vomited, his lamb brains from breakfast coming back to join the
sticky mess. After all they had seen this morning, her young, fresh face, eyes
open, fearful in death, resting on top of the gory mess that had been her
throat, had finally caught him out. His surprise had been complete; the two
policemen lying back there near the entrance had allowed him the false
assumption that this shop had, somehow, been missed by the chaos outside.

Daniel delved through the cupboards and, finding what he was
looking for, grabbed two white boxes containing chargers, one of them solar
powered. With a fleeting glance back at the unfortunate girl, he walked
unsteadily over to the rucksacks and picked two from the stand. Plugging his
phone into a spare electrical socket, he hoped there would be enough time to recharge
it adequately. Then he opened the two bags and began to fill them with
supplies. Thinking straight once more, he also put medical supplies into the
outer pockets of each bag. Now they were ready.

“Nice job, man,” Rob said when he saw the bags Daniel had
dropped at his feet. “What about morphine and antibiotics?”

“Do you know how to administer them?” Daniel asked, doubting
whether either was capable of delivering anything other than a death, high on
pain killer.

“Well, they might still be useful. We may meet a doctor on
our travels. Better to have them, and not need them…”

“Point taken.” Daniel said, and stepped around the
prescriptions counter, carefully this time. He hadn’t told Rob of his gruesome
discovery, why add to his misery? Feeling a frisson of guilt for being back in
the depths of the dispensary, he wondered where to start. Fridge, they’d be
refrigerated, probably. There it was, in the corner; the padlock had been
smashed. They were too late, he thought.

Most of the fridge’s contents were smashed or missing, but
he managed to find a few useful phials, which he put in a cold bag purloined
from a shelf out in the shop proper. Along with syringes and needles, he split
them between both back packs.

“Right, which scent do you want, Rob? I think I’ll stick
with Fahrenheit for now.” Daniel asked, eager to get going.

“Me, too. I think mixing smells will make me want to kill
myself, let alone the bloody zombies out there.”

The two picked out several bottles of aftershave; it was an
unsaid rule that neither picked up a perfume. Daniel considered himself
appropriately in touch with his ‘feminine side’, but still felt that it would
just be wrong at so many levels.

Having re-applied the aftershave, Daniel went back to the
shutter and peered out. Two of the trains had clearly failed to stop in time,
and had smashed into the buffers, leaving crumpled carriages concertinaed,
looking like a petulant child had smashed its train set. Bodies were lying all
over the platforms, a few moving awkwardly across the ground, leaving smeared
trails of blood, looking stark on the off-white concrete and granite flooring.

“There aren’t many of them on two feet out there. Those from
our chase seem to have wandered off, just a few getting off the trains.” He
peered around a little more, and saw a possible opening they could use at the
far side of the concourse, near the higher numbered platforms. “It seems clear
over there, near platform six.”

Rob had joined him at the shutter, and saw what he meant.
“You could be right,” he agreed. They were both eager to get out of the shop,
and on the road as soon as possible. That’s why they missed the movement from
behind. Rob was suddenly pulled backwards, and with a shout of surprise, landed
on his back, one of the policemen under him. His back pack had saved him, he
had been trying out the weight, making sure movement was easy. Daniel whipped
around in surprise, and drew the pistol tucked in his trousers at the base of
his back. Fumbling, he managed to aim the gun at the officer.

“I can’t get a shot, you’re in the way! Roll off to a side,
now!” he screamed at Rob, desperate to get this fucker before he got one of
them. Glancing sideways, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. The
other officer was lunging at him. Too quick for the dead officer, Daniel
stepped backwards, bringing the lumbering man in front of the pistol. A shot
rang out and the poor bastard’s head exploded, leaving a red mist hanging in
the air and brain matter flying across the shop, spraying the two struggling on
the floor.

Anger and resentment fuelling him, Daniel walked calmly over
to the struggling pair, put the gun to the fighting policeman’s head and pulled
the trigger a second time. Blood and brains plumed from the far side of his
head and he flopped back, dead on the floor. Rob quickly got up; the weight of
the rucksack had prevented him from righting himself during the struggle. He
had been as helpless as a tortoise lying on its shell. Another lesson learnt,
almost too late. Neither was sure what to do about the problem, all their
supplies were deemed useful and necessary. They would just have to be careful
in the future.

They were both covered in fresh blood from the blowback of
the two shots. Daniel walked over to the Baby Care section and grabbed half a
dozen packets of baby wet-wipes. “I reckon we’ll be needing more of these
before we’re through.” He broke one open and, taking a couple for himself,
threw the pack to Rob.

Picking up his phone, and seeing it now had an eighty per
cent charge, he unplugged it, stored the charger in the back pack, and turned
to go.

“As the shepherd said to the sheepdog, let’s get the flock
out of here.” He smiled as the shutter was raised as quietly as possible. They
stole across the concourse as quickly as they felt they could go without
attracting attention, arriving at the farthest platforms without incident. The
track alongside platform six was free of trains so they jumped down, being
careful not to sprain anything. They had approximately fifteen miles to go; as
yet they had no idea how much of it would have to be done on foot.

“All these trains are electric, Rob. That’s the live track,
just outside the pair for the wheels.” Having nothing with which to test for
current, it seemed safer to assume it was still live. They began the long
march, occasionally stealing a look backwards to make sure they weren’t being
followed.

Arriving at the end of the covered area of the station, the
duo stepped out into the sunshine. The day wasn’t warm, but they were grateful
for the sun; it gave them a feeling of hope as they trod carefully, crossing
over the river towards London Bridge. They made their way across to the
opposite side, and peered into the river. Dozens of bodies floated and
floundered in the water, most still moving clumsily, trying to stay on the
surface.

“I wonder if they can drown,” Rob mused, “it’s not like
they’re really alive. I don’t think.”


Dunno
. Right now, I don’t care.
Let’s keep our eyes peeled.” Daniel was tired, tired of what they had done. All
the mayhem he’d seen today had shaken him to the core. On the other hand, he
was much more focused; taking the holsters from the dead cops meant wearing the
gun would be easier, both for carriage and its use; this made him feel more
secure. Wearing his back pack and his rifle slung on his right shoulder - he’d
mimicked how the policemen had worn it for a quick response - he looked ready
for business, and by God, he felt it as well. His squeamishness at killing was
now gone. He was going to get to Janet at the library, or die in the attempt.

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