The Undead. The First Seven Days (27 page)

Dave and I look at each other and he shrugs.
  ‘Um…who is searching us?’
  ‘PC Jenkins will be searching you.’
  ‘I can’t Sarge… I’ve got the taser.’
  ‘Right. Where’s Ted?’
  ‘He went to the toilet, Sarge.’
  ‘What about Steven? STEVEN!’
  She yells out and a very thin man with large, thick glasses appears at the doorway. He is dressed in a blue shirt, unlike PC Jenkins and the sergeant who are both in black shirts.
  ‘Yes, Sergeant?’ Steven asks.
  ‘Search the prisoners…I mean these men please, while PC Jenkins covers you with the taser.’
  ‘Me Sergeant? I’m just a PCSO - I can’t search people…’ he looks terrified.
  ‘It’s not a request, Steven - and you can search persons under the supervision of a uniformed police officer.’
  ‘Why don’t I take the taser and let Tom search them?’
  ‘He can’t take the taser - he’s not had the training.’

PC Jenkins looks alarmed.
  ‘Oh… but I can search people though, can I?’
  ‘Well yeah, it’s completely different – it takes training and skill to use a taser - it’s not a toy.’
  ‘Enough! Thank you. Tom will cover with the taser and Steven will search them,’ the Sergeant barks out and they both fall quiet.
  Steven moves forward and stops in front of me, I smile at him, feeling sorry for the position he is in -  he’s clearly scared.
  ‘Steven, you’re in the way,’ PC Jenkins says.
  ‘What?’ Steven turns and sees the taser pointing at him - realising that he has blocked PC Jenkins’ aim.
  ‘Oh, sorry, move over mate,’ Steven asks Dave to move over so he and I can step to the side.

We start shuffling around, and Dave bumps into me, then tries to move and again bumps into me.
  ‘No, you need to move that way,’ Steven says to Dave.
  ‘Oh, this way,’ Dave moves the wrong way and steps in front of Steven.
  ‘Steven, get out of the way,’ PC Jenkins says.
  ‘I’m trying,’ Steven is getting flustered at Dave, as he keeps stepping the wrong way, and I start to get the impression that Dave is doing it on purpose.
  ‘Sorry, sir, I’ll move,’ again Dave gets it wrong and Steven looks red in the face, the space is confined and PC Jenkins is berating Steven for blocking his aim.
  ‘Steven… move out of the bloody way.’
  ‘Mate, you’re in the way - can you just move please,’ Steven snaps at Dave.

I don’t know why Steven doesn’t just search Dave first - as he’s the closest now, but he’s blustering about and not thinking straight.
  ‘Steven - will you get a grip and search these men,’ the Sergeant yells at him.
  ‘I’m sorry, I’ll go this way then,’ Dave steps round Steven so he is behind him and is standing between PC Jenkins and Steven.
  ‘For god’s sake, this is just stupid,’ PC Jenkins rubs his head.

Dave spins and snatches the taser with one hand and pushes PC Jenkins in the chest with the other. PC Jenkins gets knocked backwards; leaving the taser in Dave’s hand. Dave steps back, so he is at the end of the desk, he then points the taser at the Sergeant, then at Steven and finally back to PC Jenkins, who is leaning against the wall with a look of horror on his face.
  ‘Now just you wait…’ The Sergeant starts to yell at Dave in her squeaky voice.
  ‘SIT DOWN AND DON’T MOVE.’ The
parade square
voice from Dave.

The Sergeant quietens immediately and sinks back onto her high chair and I imagine her feet dangling down, not touching the floor.

I smile, just a small twitch of the lips as I stare at Dave in admiration.
  ‘Bloody hell mate! Well done.’
  ‘Thanks, Mr Howie.’
  Dave continues moving his aim from one to the other, showing them that he has a clear shot. Steven is standing in front of me, frozen in terror.

No one speaks for a few seconds.
  ‘…’ello, ‘ello, what’s going on here then?’
   An older man walks in: late fifties, thick set and bald with weathered features. He has a rolled up newspaper under his arm and is holding two disposable cups of hot liquid. He stops and looks at each of the people in the room.
  ‘Oh dear… tut tut - well this seems a bit of a pickle, don’t it? Excuse me mate, these cups are scalding hot, it’s these cheap cardboard things, they burn your bloody fingers off.’
   He steps round Dave and goes behind the desk, putting both the cups down and blowing on his fingers.
  ‘Tea’s there, Debbie,’ he doesn’t even look at the Sergeant who is frozen. The new man is also wearing a black shirt, but he has the initials D.O. on the sleeves. Finally, he looks at Dave, then at me.
  ‘So? What’s it like out there? Still hot ‘n’ horrible is it?’
  ‘Er… yeah - you could say that.’
  ‘Well - it had to happen, didn’t it. So which one of you has the army voice? I heard it all the way down the block and I thought - there’s a voice from the services if ever I heard one. It took me back a few years - I can tell you.’
  ‘It was him!’ I point at Dave, almost feeling like a schoolboy, dropping my mate in it.
  ‘It was you was it? What were you in?’
  ‘I can’t say.’
  I bloody knew he would say that.
  ‘Ah, I get it,’ he taps his nose and winks knowingly at Dave, then looks at the taser with distaste.
  ‘You got that off young Jenkins didn’t you? I kept telling him not to keep waving it about! Did he listen though? No, he didn’t. They never do these young ‘uns. Mind you, we never needed ‘em in my day.’
  ‘Oh… you’re a policeman, too?’ I ask him.
  ‘No, no, not anymore. I did my time and got out.’ He points to the initials on the sleeve of his shirt. ‘Detention Officer now. Five years army, then twenty-five in the job and I thought to myself… Ted it’s time to get out, but I keep coming back, like an old fool.’
  The old timer is calm, keeping us chatting, but I can see that he is appraising Dave and I constantly; years of hard situations and having to rely on his wits have left him sharp and the experience is oozing off of him.
  ‘Ted? I’m Howie and this is Dave - it’s very nice to meet you.’
  I step up to the desk and extend my hand, it’s awkward, but Ted stands up and leans over, my hand is dwarfed as his giant fist closes round mine.
  ‘You too, Howie. Nice to see someone still has manners.’
  Ted turns to Dave and offers his hand.
  ‘Dave… I think we can put it down now.’
  ‘Are you sure, Mr Howie?’ Dave says, as he eyes PC Jenkins suspiciously.
  ‘Yes mate, I’m sure they won’t do anything silly - will you?’ I look at PC Jenkins.
  ‘No…’ he stammers, still scared.
  Dave lowers the taser and puts his hand out to Ted, they shake hands very briefly and then Dave pulls back and wipes his hand on his trousers.
  ‘I did wash them, you know.’
  Dave looks at his hand, then back at Ted.
  ‘Oh, sorry.’
  ‘Ah, I’m only joking - I didn’t wash them really.’
  Dave goes back to wiping and Ted laughs out loud; a nice, deep, hearty laugh.
  ‘Ah… you Special Forces boys are all the same - trained killers I’ll grant you - but funny buggers though.’
  PC Jenkins’ mouth drops open at the mention of Special Forces. He stares at Dave with a keen interest.
  ‘Bloody hell, are you SF? I knew you were SF the way you took that taser off me. Wow! Two SF in here. So are you on operations then? I knew they would send the SF in.’
  ‘We aren’t Special Forces! We’re just trying to get somewhere and got caught out, that’s all.’
  ‘Where are you going?’
  ‘Salisbury.’
  I knew it was a mistake the second it came out of my mouth.
  ‘Salisbury Barracks! Wow, that’s so cool! Is that where the HQ is?’
  ‘What? No! Look we aren’t Special Forces.’
  ‘So… why are you going to Salisbury?’
   What can I say? I can’t tell them we’re going to steal a tank. We’ll just sound even more suspicious – but, thankfully, Ted steps in.
  ‘That’s enough young Jenkins - you leave it alone with all the questions.’
  ‘Dave… I think we can give the officer his taser back.’
   Dave looks at me, then at PC Jenkins, he checks again to make sure I’m not going to change my mind and slowly hands it over; turning it, so that the handle is facing PC Jenkins, who takes it and looks at Dave like a puppy.
  ‘You can keep it - if you want.’
  ‘PC Jenkins, that is the property of the constabulary and not yours to give away,’ the Sergeant is back with us, feeling confident again, now that Ted is here and Dave has handed the weapon over.
  ‘Sorry, Sarge.’ He looks crestfallen, chastised in front of his new hero.
  ‘Can we get our weapons back now?’ Dave looks to Ted, not at the Sergeant.
  ‘I don’t think that will be a problem, will it… Sergeant?’
  Ted defers to the sergeant, but has made it clear what he thinks - she looks trapped and scared.
  ‘Look, Sergeant. I promise you that we are not psycho’s or anything - we just got caught out, you’ve seen what’s happening out there. The weapons can stay there if you’re sure we’re safe in here…’
  Ted steps in again. ‘Oh, this nick is safe. It’s built to handle terror suspects, so the security is very enhanced. The only way in to this part of the building is through the big gates or that outer door. The interior door is solid and can only be opened from this side.’
  ‘Okay, then we’ll leave them there, for now.’
  ‘Tell you what gents, why don’t I take you to the canteen for a brew - that all right with you, Debbie?’
  ‘Well, it’s time for the emergency strategy meeting anyway and you two can come.’
  She gets up and walks out from behind the desk. Stepping down from the raised area, she looks tiny - shorter than Dave by inches, but with the same, wiry frame. She walks out of the room and down the corridor - Dave follows her with his eyes.
  ‘I’ll show you the way, after me,’ Ted goes out next, followed by Steven and PC Jenkins.

Finally Dave and I leave the room and start down the corridor. I lean in to whisper to him: ‘I don’t like her much.’ The bossy attitude has annoyed me, he looks at me and pauses, before answering quietly.
  ‘I do’.

The corridor is long and we pass cell doors on both sides; every few metres we have to turn sharp left or right.
  ‘It’s designed that like on purpose, stops anyone being able to shoot all the way down the corridor, and it disorientates anyone trying to escape.’
  Ted gives us a commentary, until we reach a solid, metal door.
  ‘Are we leaving this area? I thought you said it was specially fortified in here?’
  ‘It’s okay, the whole building is safe - we keep checking it.’
  The Sergeant opens the door with a key and steps out; Steven follows her, then PC Jenkins.
  ‘Tom, where are you going?’
  ‘To the meeting, Sarge.’
  ‘Tom, you know you have to stay here.’
  ‘But, Sarge…’
  ‘No buts, stay here to let us back in and watch the prisoner.’
  ‘But that’s not fair, why can’t
he
do it?’ PC Jenkins points to Steven.
  ‘Don’t drag me into this, I’m not trained to look after a prisoner.’
  PC Jenkins stares at Ted, who steps up and looks down his nose at PC Jenkins.
  ‘Something on your mind, lad?’
  ‘No, I’ll stay…’ He sighs and steps back in, holding the door open for Dave and I to step through.

Ted chuckles as the door closes.
  ‘Keen as mustard and just about as bright too.’
  ‘Did he say
prisoner
?’
  ‘Oh yes, one of our locals.’
  ‘But, with all this going on, why don’t you just let him go?’
  Ted chuckles again.
  ‘Old Harry? He don’t want to go anywhere - he’s homeless. He spends more time in here than at the shelters. Every time it gets too cold or too hot he breaks something and waits to be arrested, bless him.’
  ‘Bloody hell, does he know what’s going on out there?’
  ‘What him? He’s madder than a bucket of frogs, we tried telling him but he just gibbers on… nah, he’s alright - wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
  ‘So… why is he in a cell then?’
  ‘He always has the same cell - gets very strange if someone else is in there. The door is open and he can do what he wants, he can’t get out or open a window - so he’s quite safe.’
  We go up a flight of stairs and Dave is keenly looking about, taking in all of the exits and windows, checking and re-checking constantly, and also glancing at the Sergeant’s small behind.

Then we head along a carpeted corridor, passing several dark and empty offices on the way, full of blank monitor screens and office swivel chairs.
  ‘Where do you get the power from? The grid went out everywhere else.’
  ‘There’s a generator in the basement, we have to be able to run the cell block in the event of a terrorist attack - we turned everything else off, so we don’t use too much juice.’
  The Sergeant ahead of us opens a door into a large conference room and switches the lights on; the room is flooded with bright, fluorescent light. She then turns a few of them off, leaving just one strip on.
  I feel better now that we are with the organised authorities, they must have contingency plans and regular updates from the government and they might be able to help find my sister.
  The Sergeant is odd, but I guess she is just the Desk Sergeant, or whatever they call them. We enter the room and the Sergeant indicates for us to be seated at the large, oval desk. Then she goes to one end and sits down. There are weighty hardback files and manuals in front of her.