The Undead. The First Seven Days (60 page)

I make Smith go up ahead of me and I climb up one-handed, holding the baby with the other arm, while the mother screams and chases me, holding the other child. I pass the baby up to Smith who takes it - like it’s a bomb about to go off.
  ‘Quickly, pass me that child now,’ I say to the woman.
  ‘No, don’t take my baby,’ she screams in blind panic.

I drop down and push her to the ladder and force her up the first few rungs. She climbs up, clutching the child.
  I force them up quickly, apart from the old woman, who, due to her age, takes a little longer. Mark is right behind her and goes to push her up faster, causing her to slip down.
  ‘Fucking hurry up, or we’ll all die, you old cow,’ Mark shouts at her.

Blowers steps in quickly and punches him hard to the side of his head, causing him to smack against the wall and slide down.

Blowers then stands over him, watching him intently.
  ‘The rest of you get up quickly, this man and I will wait till last,’ Blowers says, through gritted teeth.

Mark stares up at him, with a look of horror on his face, but stays down on the floor.
  ‘DOORS ARE GOING,’ Dave shouts from the main area.
  ‘Blowers, get up there quickly, and you,’ I shout to Blowers and point at Mark, the last ones to go up.
  I run back to the door leading out into the main area and see the glass doors slowly buckling inwards, the glass cracking noisily as the pressure builds.
  ‘Get back to ladder and up to the roof now,’ I shout and Cookey and McKinney sprint past me.
  Dave and I kneel down, just a few feet from the door leading to the back area and the ladder.
  ‘You next, Dave.’
  ‘No.’ Dave states.
  ‘Fine, then we’ll both stay here,’ I say stubbornly, and we both raise our rifles and take aim at the doors.
  ‘Are you going or what?’ I say, after a few seconds.
  ‘Nope,’ he answers.
  ‘Okay, be like that.’
  ‘I will, Mr Howie.’
  We both watch the doors, both of us being unwilling to be the first to break away.
  ‘They’ll be through those doors any second now, Dave.’
  ‘Yes.’
  ‘So… you’d better get going, then.’
  ‘You really should go, Mr Howie - I’ll cover.’
  The glass fractures and doors start buckling further open. I glance over to him and he looks back at me as I grin, he smiles slowly back at me.
  ‘Ready, Dave?’ I ask him, turning back to the doors.
  ‘Yes, Mr Howie.’
  The doors burst open and the zombies start pouring in. We open fire on fully automatic, cutting them down in droves and sending them back to hell.

They surge forward: zombie men, zombie women and zombie rats.

Just as they reach us, I lean over and slam the door closed and brace it with my back.
  ‘I’ve got the door, you go now,’ I shout at Dave, who runs forward and starts pushing against the door next to me.
  ‘Dave, I’ve got the door - get up that ladder now.’
  ‘I’ve got the door, Mr Howie - you go.’
  ‘I got to the door first - so it’s mine.’ I shout back at him, over the thumps and bangs.
  ‘No, Mr Howie.’ He grunts, straining at the door.
  ‘Right, I didn’t want to have to do this, but you said I was in charge,’ he shoots a look at me. ‘So, if I’m in charge, then I’m ordering you to get up that ladder.’
  He stares at me.
  ‘Okay, Mr Howie. Move quick though. The door won’t hold.’
  ‘I know mate, now go.’ I shout.
  He releases suddenly and sprints to the ladder and starts climbing up fast, as soon as he gets half way up he shouts down ‘NOW.’
  ‘COMING,’ I shout back and jump away from the door and start sprinting towards the ladder.

The door bursts open behind me and I hear them charging into the room.

During those milliseconds of running I work out that if I grab that ladder they will be on me before I can climb up.

Dave, or anyone else up there, won’t be able to shoot down, because I will be in the way. Dave would most likely drop down and try to fight them all and get killed in the process, and Dave is the strongest chance they all have for survival.

All it will take is one bite or scratch and I’m done for, and they are moving fast now. There is no way I can go for the ladder; it just can’t be done.

Time slows down as I reach my hand out to grab it and pull my arm back at the last second, then race forward into the storeroom, slamming the door behind me.
  I lock the door and push the bolts in at the top and bottom as I hear Dave bellowing my name and the growling of the zombies as they impact on the other side of the door. The door is solid wood and will hold for a bit, plus the door isn’t that wide - so they won’t be able to get that many bodies across it. But they can press in from behind and eventually the door will go.
  I pull the opened cage sides down across the door and pile boxes and items in front of it. Sweating and breathing hard, I step back and look round. Tucker has left some supplies down here and I smile as I realise that even during those frantic few minutes he managed to get some of the supplies up onto the roof. I sink down onto the top of some boxes and change magazines in the assault rifle. Next, I pick up a bottle of water and take a long drink, before I settle down to listen to them thrashing against the door trying to get to me.
  I hear muffled shots; the lads must be shooting down onto the horde below. I feel numb and suddenly very alone. I know that if I had gone for the ladder, I would never have made it, but already there is doubt in my mind that maybe I could have gone for it. But they were right behind me and I only just managed to get this door closed.
  One bite, that’s all it takes.

Dave screams as Howie runs past the bottom of the ladder, he is at the top aiming down with his rifle, ready to drop them as Howie climbs.

  But he went straight past and into the storeroom.

  Dave hears the door slam shut and his mind calculates that Howie got into the room safely.
  ‘MR HOWIE,’ he bellows and then listens.
  ‘MR HOWIE,’ he roars again.

  Still nothing.
  ‘GET ON THOSE SIDES AND KILL THEM,’ Dave turns away from the ladder and storms over to the front of the building.

  The people from
Burger King
are huddled in the middle of the roof, cowering down, while the recruits and the old man fire down into the massed undead.
  ‘SMITH! WATCH THAT LADDER,’ Dave bellows and starts firing down into the crowd; Howie told him he was in charge and had to go.
  In Dave’s mind, things are black and white - right or wrong. There are leaders and there are followers. Even at the supermarket, Dave admired Howie as he reminded him strongly of some of the best officers he had served under. Hard working, kind and considerate - but also not a fool. He was always willing to make conversation and show a genuine interest in his staff. These traits are rare in an officer and Dave admired that Howie for the traits.
  Dave knew he was without purpose when they attacked the supermarket that night.

  He fell back on his years of training and natural instincts to protect the base; protect the place that recruited and paid him. Then Howie showed up and, instead of panicking or screaming, he showed those traits even more. He stood next to Dave when they started to attack again. Over the last few days, Howie has shown what a natural and strong leader he is, sticking to the primary objective - but being flexible enough to adapt and overcome whatever is in his path. Doing the right thing at the right time and doing something that the Army had never done with him - Howie encouraged Dave to be human, to joke and to smile.
  And that first battle when they charged the zombies in Boroughfare town centre, Howie didn’t allow the anger to control him.

  He channelled it and made it work for him. He was clumsy and took unnecessary risks, but Dave could see the battle lust in his eyes and knew that Howie was a man to follow. Since then, Dave had protected Howie.
  Howie took the recruits and showed them kindness and respect and, by doing so, he became their natural leader too. He protected them during the battle to get the Saxon and knew how to get them safe before the night came, and, even after that, when most men would weep or break down, Howie took the time to check on the recruits’ welfare and make sure they were all okay - then joked with Dave.
  Dave knows those are very special traits, he has been in countless war zones and on countless operations and can see when someone is good.

  Howie is good.

  Howie is his friend and his leader.
  To Dave, killing is a skill that comes naturally; he doesn’t relish it or dream of it. Killing is just something he is able to do easily. He is small and can move quickly and is able to co-ordinate his movements to achieve maximum efficiency. Only, with Howie, has he felt that bloodlust, that feeling of fighting alongside a fellow warrior and defeating something evil.
  Dave feels something he very rarely feels. A feeling inside growing and gnawing at him. The assault rifle in his hands becomes something weird and strange, something that doesn’t belong to him and he stops firing and lowers the weapon down gently, then stands still to examine this feeling inside him, trying to block it out - but it pushes up inside of him and tries to take over his mind and body.

Dave blocks it and tries to focus, but it screams inside of him, it demands to be released and it will never go away until it is let out.
  ‘BLOWERS,’ Dave roars, his voice rising above all the noise and weapons firing.
  ‘YOU’RE IN CHARGE.’
  Dave lets the feeling out.

He releases it to purge into his blood stream and pump around his heart. He closes his eyes as the pressure builds and threatens to overwhelm him. Then the feeling is in control of him and he opens his eyes and draws his knives; one in each hand with the back of the blade pressing up against his forearms.
  Dave looks down into the horde and leaps from the building, straight into the middle of them, as that feeling takes over completely. That feeling of anger.
  Dave is angry.

I sit in the storeroom feeling sorry for myself, sorry that I’m separated from the others. Then I think of Dave. He has the address book in his bag and I know nothing will stop him from finishing what we set out to complete.
  I feel bad for ordering Dave away from the door like that, but he is a special man and the recruits need him more than they need me. I can laugh and joke with them, but it’s Dave that has given them the skills to survive and he can carry on showing them and protecting them.
  Under Dave’s tutelage the recruits will prevail and I know my sister is in good hands with them too. They will fight together or die together, and they have already shown the commitment and camaraderie they have built up. I feel proud to have fought with them and I feel especially proud to have fought alongside Dave.
  I know he struggles with day to day living, and is unable to see irony or sarcasm and cannot work out the things people mean when they say something different. But then, I think back to some of the little quips he has made and it shows that, even under the most extreme event known to mankind, people can still evolve.

The building is surrounded by rats and zombies and they all want to kill us. The lads can fight them off for a while up there but they have proven they can wait longer than we can fire, and there seems to be an endless supply of them.
  But the rats and zombies are trying to get into the building and are all facing inwards. Not the other way. I get to my feet, my blood starting to pound in my ears.
  My sister stands the best chance of survival if Dave can get to her. Those recruits stand the best chance of survival if Dave takes them, and those survivors we found here stand the best chance of survival if Dave is alive to lead the recruits.

If I can get to that GPMG I can even the odds, and even if a rat or a zombie bites me, the infection won’t be instant and I can still fight through or lead them away.
  It’s a chance worth taking, for Sarah, for the recruits and for those people.

Dave must survive and if that means I charge out to my certain death then I will do it. I’ve been lucky so far and I admit to myself that is mostly down to Dave, and if he could keep a clumsy fool like me alive, he will be able to do it for them.
  I draw the long bayonet from the scabbard on my belt and fix it to the end of the rifle, wishing I had my axe with me. One magazine in the rifle and then the knife on the end and that’s it to get me to the Saxon.
  Fuck it! I do this for Sarah, for the recruits and for Dave and I kick open the rear doors and burst out to find a whole load of nasty zombies on both sides.

The door had swung hard and knocked two of them off their feet.

I run forward as they immediately turn and start chasing me. I out sprint them and run down the back of the building and see more of them pressing into the sides of the building. I run out and away from the building and into the car park, then turn and drop down on one knee and fire the assault rifle into the zombies closest to me.

They drop down from each shot and I thank the Lord for whatever has made them weaker. I run on as more of them start running after me and I see more turning away from the building, coming towards me. I turn right and start towards the front of the building; the rage and anger building inside me. I get to the corner and see the Saxon immobile, a few feet from the building; hordes of zombies are facing away from it, towards the front and surging into the open doors of the services building.
  I run forward, desperately trying to reach the Saxon, before they see me - but the ones chasing me must send some signal or make noise because they turn and start towards me. I drop down and fire the remains of my magazine into them; tearing them apart and watching them fall and get blown backwards.