The Undead. The First Seven Days (56 page)

  The rat sits and watches the group, fully controlled by the infection as it takes in the area; the rat is made to piss down the sides of the waste bin, so that others can track its location. Another one pops its head out from some bushes further back and watches the rat on the waste bin.

  Then another one climbs out of a drain cover and watches the one in the bushes.

  More start popping out all round the area, watching the others and marking the site; pissing where they stand, so that the infection can use their powerful sense of smell. Within minutes, there are rats throughout the fuel station site. Their red eyes almost glow against the darkness of their fur.
  The scent markers work and rats from miles around are sent surging towards the location. A scent trail is laid by each rat, as it gets closer to the smells left by the preceding rodents.
  Survivors fighting for their lives against the rats invading their homes are suddenly dumbfounded when the rats turn as one and start running away. They look out of their windows and peek holes to see a thick black carpet of black bodies all running in one direction.
  The motorway that Howie and the recruits used just a short time ago is slowly filling with sleek black bodies and fat black bodies - first in ones, then twos, then small groups - until they are piling in from the sides, the drain covers - all pushing towards one direction.
  Slowly, the infection is able to watch the group from many different eyes, but it holds the rats back, and waits.
  The infection has learnt to resist the urge to send these small hosts in now, it must wait until there are enough to overwhelm them.

_____________________________________

‘Got it,’ Nick Hewitt bellows from behind the counter.
  ‘Well done mate, nice one,’ I say from the end of the aisle.

  I had just taken cans of warm drink out to the lads, carrying them in a basket and letting them select the one’s they wanted. Then, while I was waiting for Dave and Nick to figure out how to get the power supply to switch to the generator, I stocked up the back of the Saxon with more chocolate bars and snacks.
  The room suddenly fills with light and the chilled cabinets start up with a clunk and a whirl. The pumps outside make a noise, as I watch the lads all turn to look at them and start smiling.
  ‘Is the pump ready, Nick?’ I ask him.
  ‘Um, hang on Sir, I’m just figuring it out.’
  ‘How do you know about these things? Have you worked in fuel stations before?’
  ‘No Sir, I just like technology and electrical stuff, computers that kind of thing. I love figuring out how stuff works.’
  ‘Oh right, I thought all of you were unemployed?’
  ‘We were - I was.’
  ‘How come, if you can do this kind of thing? There must have been employers out there desperate for blokes like you.’
  ‘I’m dyslexic, Sir,’ he looks up at me, with grin. ‘The Army was going to help with that… well, they were going to… anyway.’
  ‘Bloody hell, didn’t they do that at school.’
  ‘Not really, they thought I was pissing around and just not trying and, by the time they figured it out, it was too late really and I lost interest. I was bunking off all the time. Oh… here we are, right… that should be it.’
  ‘Have you done it?’
  ‘I think so. Try it now and give me a shout if it doesn’t work,’ he says as I leave the store and cross to the pumps.

  I unwind the fuel cap and sniff the hole; just to be sure it’s diesel and not petrol. I wouldn’t have thought these things would run on petrol, that would cost a fortune, but after the last time we put the wrong fuel in I double check.
  I press the lever in on the black handle and feel the vibration as it starts to pump fuel into the tank. I give a thumbs up back to Nick who returns the gesture and starts walking out from behind the counter. Then he stops and goes back and slides up the metal shutter that hides the cigarette display. He looks over at me; gesturing towards the tobacco display. From his manner it appears he is asking if it’s okay to take some cigarettes.

  Bless him; he doesn’t have to ask me.

  I give him another thumbs up and nod vigorously, showing that I don’t mind. The fuel pumps steadily into the tank as I watch Nick load up bags with all of the cigarettes, tobacco, papers and lighters and stroll back outside.

  He goes over to the lads and shows them the contents and I’m surprised when Blowers, Cookey and McKinney all take a packet and light up.

  Tucker declines and walks over to the Saxon, as Dave walks back round from behind the building with Curtis.
  ‘Do want you a packet, Sir?’ Nick asks me.
  ‘Nah… you’re all right mate. I gave up a little while ago, would be a shame to start now - right at the end of the world.’
  ‘Okay, lads do you want any smokes?’ Nick calls up to Jamie and Darren on top of the Saxon.
  ‘Yeah… I will in a minute mate. Best not smoke here with all this fuel about,’ Darren calls down.
  ‘Probably a good idea,’ I say.
  ‘Is it okay if I go over to the side for a smoke, Sir?’ Nick asks me.
  ‘Yeah, mate  no problem.’
  Dave walks up and watches the fuel handle. Curtis joins Nick Hewitt and Blowers chatting away and takes a packet of cigarettes, opens it up and lights one. They all stand chatting, blowing smoke into the air and I notice they keep their observations up and are constantly scanning the area.
  ‘Fuck me, they nearly all smoke,’ I say to Dave.
  ‘Squaddies, Mr Howie - they nearly all smoke.’
  ‘I thought soldiers had to be super fit.’
  ‘There’s a difference between being fit and being healthy.’
  ‘Have you ever smoked, Dave?’
  ‘No, Mr Howie.’
  ‘I used to, but I gave up. Watching them now makes me want one though.’
  ‘Are you going to have one?’ He asks me.
  ‘God no, far too expensive, I can’t afford them any more.’
  ‘True, they do cost a lot.’ Dave answers, missing the joke. ‘Or you could just sign for them, seeing as you’re a manager…’ He says, not missing the joke.
  ‘Bloody hell, Dave… did you just make a joke,’ I ask him, shocked at his reference to when I met up with him in the supermarket and tried to get him to take some clean clothes from the clothing section. He had refused, saying he had no money and I told him I would sign for them.

  Dave just gives a slight smile, but his eyes are glinting.
  ‘Well mate, you are changing. Becoming an instructor, smiling and even making jokes now, I just don’t recognise you anymore, you’ve changed - you’re not the person I met.’ I smile at him.
He looks puzzled and stares at me. ‘I am,’ he says.
  ‘I was just joking, mate.’
  ‘Oh, okay.’
  ‘SIR,’ Jamie Reese shouts out loudly from his position above us on the Saxon.
  ‘What’s up, Jamie,’ I lean back to look up at him, but he is facing the other way.
  ‘Sir! There are lots of rats all around us.’ Reese says.
  ‘Rats? I wouldn’t worry mate, they’re just getting brave, now all the people are gone.’
  ‘I don’t think so, Sir. Maybe you should look.’ He sounds concerned and I get Dave to hold the pump lever down, while I clamber up-top.
  ‘Where, mate?’ I ask him, once I’m next to him.
  ‘Everywhere Sir, have a look,’ he says. I take the rifle and look through the scope. I scan quickly from left to right.
  ‘You’re too high, Sir, look down to the bottom of the bushes - at the edge of the car park,’ Jamie says.

  I can just see the top of the main services building, where the shops and cafes are. I lower down to the bushes. As I focus and watch, I see black shapes emerging and then staying still. I sweep along the bottom of the bushes and can see hundreds and hundreds of rats, watching our direction. I keep sweeping and see more emerging every few seconds and my heart misses a beat as I notice their small, beady, red eyes.

  Zombie eyes.

  Zombie rats.

They don’t move though, but just squat still, watching all of us.
  ‘Everyone… back in the Saxon right now - but do not run,’ I shout out.

I hear footsteps as the lads all start heading back, all of them quiet and I can tell by the noise they are walking fast.

  The pump switches off as Dave extracts the nozzle and I hear the clunk as he rests it back on the stand.
  More and more rats are coming into the perimeter and I sweep the scope over to the access road and almost shout out, when I see a thick black carpet of undulating bodies sweeping towards us.
  ‘Smith, get that gun aimed on the access road leading in, is everyone loaded up?’ I shout down.
  ‘Apart from you and Jamie yes - what’s going on?’ I hear Blowers say.
  ‘Lads, there are thousands of rats watching us and more are coming. They are wild, zombie rats. Jamie, I want you to get back inside, mate.’ I hear movement as Jamie drops down to the rear and climbs into the back.
  ‘Smith, you drop down, mate - I’ll take the machine gun. Curtis, can you hear me?’
  ‘Yes, Sir,’ Graves replies.
  ‘Get up front, into the driver’s seat and get us out of here,’ I say, trying to keep my voice level and calm.
  I glance over and see that Darren Smith has dropped back down.

  I lower the sniper rifle and ease myself into the hole and take over the GPMG.

  I pull the lever back and aim directly at the entrance to the access road. Movement catches my eye and I look over to the shop area. The fuel pumps are covered by a large flat roof, to keep customers dry when they are filling up. The store building also has a flat roof - that is only inches away from the edge of the fuel pump roof. Black bodies are running and jumping onto the fuel pump area roof.
  ‘Shit, they’re above us – quick, Curtis, get us out of here,’ I shout down.

  The engine starts and I hear Curtis grinding the gears, as he tries to select first. Then I hear skittering noises directly above me as the rats tiny claws scratch against the top of the metal roof.
  I look back to the hedgerow, just as thousands of rats burst out and start running directly towards us. More are coming from the other side and, within seconds, the ground is covered by the rodents as they surge forward.
  ‘NOW, CURTIS,’ I bellow and then realise that if I open up with the GPMG, I run the risk of hitting the fuel pumps, which would blow us all sky high.
  The Saxon starts forward and rolls away from the fuel area. The rats are already close to the vehicle and I move round in a circle to see them come from all directions. Curtis increases his speed and turns to go back down the access road, which we came up. The tyres start hitting the rats and I hear popping noises and crunches as they are squashed under the giant wheels.
  ‘KEEP GOING,’ I yell and wait until we are clear of the fuel pumps, before opening up with the GPMG.

  The rat’s bodies are small but there are so many of them that I can’t see the road surface now and the heavy calibre machine gun rips through them; sending bodies flying into the air. But, for every rat that is torn apart by the machine gun, several more appear.

  I spin round to face back towards the pumps and see them pouring round the sides of the building, all heading our way. Now thousands of rats with red bloodshot eyes surge towards us and, as we clear the end of the flat roof, I see bodies dropping down onto the top of the Saxon.
  ‘FUCK! THEY’RE ON THE TOP,’ I scream out and feel the Saxon give a burst of speed, as Curtis tries to shake them off.

  Several of them fall off, but a few remain and start walking towards me, rocking with the motion of the vehicle. I can’t shoot them, as I don’t know if the rounds will penetrate the armoured vehicle from this close range and the gun won’t aim down that low.

  I open fire on the fuel station and pour rounds into ground level.

  Bodies get burst apart and blown away and I see mini-explosions of blood, as the large bullets rip through their bodies.
  I keep firing and the rounds hit the fuel pumps; I aim for the one we were using. As we get onto the access road and are crushing hundreds of rats beneath us, the fuel pump explodes into flames with a massive bang. Thick, black smoke billows up and rolls across the flat roof and over the sides. The fuel in the pipes gets set alight and, within seconds, the other pumps are exploding; sending scorched bits of rat body past me from the pressure wave.

  Each pump goes with a massive bang and a huge fireball erupts upwards, incinerating the flat roof within seconds. The structure collapses from the sudden, intense heat which sends more flames and smoke billowing out the sides. Another huge fireball explodes and this one is much bigger than the previous; the remains of the roof are launched high into the sky - jagged chunks of metal flying off in different directions.

  One large chunk is sent wheeling through the air, directly at us, and I drop down, just as it bounces off the rear and goes spinning over us - landing directly in the path of the Saxon.

  Curtis slams the brakes on and we all go flying forward, then off to the side, as he steers round the obstacle.
  ‘There’s fucking thousands of them,’ I shout out, above the noise of the engine screaming and the huge explosions behind us.

  Just as I move back towards the GPMG hole, a big, fat, black rat drops down onto the floor of the Saxon. We all shout and scream and start stamping down with our boots, but the speedy body darts and weaves through us.