Zombie Dawn Outbreak (9 page)

Rob hobbled forward, unable to keep up with the speed his friends had attacked with. He smacked the first target he could reach with his truncheon, but he was tackled from his shield side. With his injured leg Rob couldn’t stay standing and tumbled to the ground. He hit at the creature that had knocked him down. As he tried to fight his new target, it reached his legs and bit into his thigh in a gap between his armour. The man screamed out in agony. Lifting his upper body he hit down on the base of the skull of his new attacker until blood poured out across the ground.

Gary looked down the street from where they’d come from, an ever growing horde was approaching.

“Get to the car and get out of here!” shouted Richards.

The sergeant helped Rob to his feet whilst Matt and Gary kept fighting wildly.

“Get going now!” shouted Richards.

Gary looked around, he was finally beginning to understand the necessity of survival at any cost. There was no glory in a last stand when no man on earth would be alive to remember it.

“Matt, come on!” shouted Gary.

Gary clicked the remote control to open the car and charged at a creature blocking his path, he lowered his head and rammed its skull head first with his riot helmet. The zombie flew several feet into the side of the car. Without stopping Gary rushed at it with his knee, smashing the creature with the robust plastic limb protection he wore. The zombie’s head twisted sharply as the blow landed and it slumped to the ground. He opened the door and threw his shield and baton onto the back seat.

Matt leapt onto the car bonnet and slid across it. There was one final creature in his way. He punched it in the face and then beat his baton into its stomach. The zombie dropped down. Matt swung the door open and kicked the beast’s head into the doorway before smashing the door shut on its head. He slammed the door continuously until blood seeped down the car sill.

“Get the fuck in the car you idiot!” shouted Gary.

Matt threw his stuff in and jumped into the car. The two men looked out at Richards and Rob. The injured men were fighting more than a dozen zombies, with more incoming.

“Give ‘em hell!” shouted Gary.

He started the car and immediately slipped the clutch, sending the front wheels into a spin. The car roared off down the road. It would be the last time they saw their friends, at least as they knew them.

Berkshire, England

They had spent the morning dying of heat and boredom. The three men went out of the canteen and down the corridor towards their office. Jones was already ahead of them, his office being closer than theirs to the canteen. The sleazy boss was probably busy knocking golf balls around his office, never having anything better to do than insult those on a smaller salary.

“Stop that right now! You’re a disgrace!” Jones shouted.

Without stopping, all three men ran into the room. Sarah, one of the office girls was lying on top of Chris, her body wriggling. The three colleagues stood not wanting to get involved, but still watching the situation unfold, it would be funny if nothing else. Jones stormed towards the pair, furious. He put his hands onto Sarah’s shoulders and pulled her off Chris.

“What the fuck?” said Jones.

Sarah slumped lifeless down to the floor and the others could now see some of what had shocked Jones. Blood poured from her neck, flesh ripped from the throat, her white blouse dripping in her own blood. The same blood trickled from Chris’s mouth and he now had a crazy expression on his face. Jones struck out his hand and pointed in anger at him, shouting at the man, his hand and finger shaking as he couldn’t control himself.

Chris reached out and took hold of Jones’s arm and bit into his index finger before ripping it from the hand. Blood was spurting from the wound as Jones screamed out in agony, clenching his bloody hand with his other. Dave and his friends still stood where they had, unable to move, in total shock. Chris stumbled to his feet.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jones screamed.

The blood soaked employee said nothing, but began staggering towards the panicked boss. Jones turned around to face Dave and his friends, utter shock on his face.

“Do something!” shouted Jones.

Before Dave could even think of a response to the situation Chris pulled Jones back and bit deep into his neck, the man screaming out once again, louder this time. Blood spurted from his neck as Chris drove his teeth in deep. Dave looked around, his two friends had already left the room. Suddenly feeling very vulnerable, he leapt out the doorway and shut it behind him. He rested back against the wall, his two friends there beside him.

“What the hell was that all about?” asked Barry.

“No fucking idea, mate,” said James.

“Have you not seen Dawn of the Dead, you idiots?” asked Dave.

“Fuck off! That’s just plain silly,” said Barry.

“Oh really, so you see people bite each other to death regularly?” Dave said.

The door reverberated as a loud smashing sound rang out from inside the office. The three men jumped at the sudden sound.

“What do we do?” asked James.

“Why are you asking me?” Dave responded.

“Well you watch those kinds of movies,” said James.

“But most of the characters in those movies die,” said Dave.

“Then do the opposite!”

The beating on the door got louder, as if several people were now attacking it.

“To Jones’s office!” shouted Dave.

It was the best thing Dave could think to do. Never investigate in these circumstances, those who do always die in the movies. At least Jones’s office would be empty, and he wouldn’t need it anytime soon. As the three men ran down the corridor the door behind them burst open, none looked back to observe the scenario. They reached the office and slammed the door quickly behind them.

“Help me move this desk over!” said Dave.

The men slid the table across the entrance, blocking the door.

“What the fuck, mate?” said Barry.

“Turn that radio on!” said Dave.

Screams echoed around the floor of the building, the men each looking at one another in fear and astonishment.

“Hit the radio!” shouted Dave.

“Why?” asked Barry.

“Because I want to know what the hell is going on in the world!” said Dave.

Barry turned the radio on, and the worst kind of modern dance music resonated from the device.

“Radio one, what a faggot,” said James.

Quickly twisting the tuning wheel Barry was flicking through stations.

“Barry, seriously, we aren’t trying to listen to music, I want to hear the news!”

“I know, I know,” said Barry.

He kept flicking the channels of the DAB radio.

“Barry!”

The station flicked on to Planet Rock, with the familiar sound of Saxon airing. Barry looked back with a grin. Dave shook his head at the complete lack of understanding of priorities from his friend. Finally, the track came to a close and it was time for the one o’clock news. The men all stood silently and intently as the screams of panic and pain ran through the seven floors of the building. They were at least partly comforted by the sturdy table which constituted their barricade.

“We’re getting reports that following an attack on Parliament just minutes ago there are more than fifty dead and wounded, including injuries to the Prime Minister. No reports have yet given any information about the motive for the attack, though similar violence seen in Canada and France this morning has already led to speculation of terrorist activity,” said the news anchor.

“That was no terrorist attack!” said James.

“No, but they clearly don’t know that yet,” said Dave.

“So what happens now?” asked Barry.

“Well usually people draw guns and start shooting,” said Dave.

“This is England, mate. What do we do?” asked James.

An almighty crash resounded from beyond the windows, and sirens could be heard in the distance. They moved to the window to look out across the street. A car was upside down, half resting on another parked at the side of the road. Screams rang out across the street, whilst people ran in all directions.

“What can we do?” asked Barry.

“Well we can’t stay here,” said Dave.

“Why not?” asked James.

“Look outside, the world has gone to shit, and it’s only going to get worse,” said Dave

“Right, so what’s the plan?” asked Barry.

“Get to my car and get out of here.”

“Alright, but how do we get past those things?” asked Barry.

“You mean zombies?”

“Uh, yeh!” said Barry.

“We ask them nicely to move aside. Think you idiot. We kick the shit out of them!”

The two men looked bewildered, but not Dave. He was in his element, bored of the endless toil of his pointless work. He could finally get out some aggression. It was game time.

“Right, so how do we fight them?” asked Barry.

“Find something big and heavy and hit them across the head with it until they stop moving,” said Dave.

The men looked around for anything that could serve as a weapon. Barry took hold of a wide branched plant that was more like a small tree, putting it over his shoulder. James took out the golfing umbrella from the coat rack whilst Dave grasped Jones’s prized club, a putter he kept about for office games. What a sad bastard.

“Right, you both ready?”

The two men shrugged their shoulders and nodded in some sense of agreement. All of them only wished they lived in a country where men carried guns. Dave took hold of the desk and drew it back. Edging closer to the door, he opened it cautiously and peered out through the gap to the corridor. There was a blood trail running from their office, out past Jones’s and around the corner, but no sign of anyone. The three men edged into the corridor.

“Go for the lift,” Barry whispered.

“No you idiot, think about that for a minute, we’ll take the stairs,” said Dave.

James started walking off towards their office, far quicker than they had cautiously left the previous room. Dave stood upright and stared at him in astonishment.

“Where are you going?” Dave insisted.

“To get my coat,” he replied.

“Don’t be an idiot, it’s hot out there anyway,” Dave replied.

It was too late. James was already through the door, having followed the trail of blood, something only a fool would do.

“Bloody hell, come on then,” Dave said.

Barry and Dave carefully continued on and into the office, the door hanging from the bottom hinge. Getting back into the workplace they had unfortunately become so intimately acquainted with over the last few years, they found nothing of note, except blood. The two watched on as James took his coat from his chair and threw it on, he turned around with a grin on his face, but it quickly turned to a grimace of fear.

“Fuck!” James shouted.

The two men looked around to see the ever cringe worthy sight of the cheap suited Jones, now dripping in fresh blood down his perfectly ironed shirt. Congealed blood was caked around his neck injury, which had all but appeared to have stopped bleeding. The creepy management git didn’t say a word, just groaned and began walking towards the men. His right hand was outstretched forward, showing the grizzly stump where the finger had so recently been removed. The two men backed up until finally they bumped into James.

“What now?” asked James.

“Hit the bastard!” yelled Dave.

James went first, using the umbrella like a club, but it just bent and broke over the skull. Barry swung the plant with all his power, using the root and pot end as a weight to bear down on the boss’s head. The pot shattered, knocking him down to one knee. Earth poured out across Jones’s head, sticking to the blood across his face.

“Fuck this!” shouted Dave.

He threw down the golf club and ran over to his work station. Taking hold of his crappy old CRT monitor and without attempting to unplug anything, he wrenched it up and off the table. Lifting the monitor above his head, Dave ran and smashed the bulky thing onto his boss’s head. The monitor completely enveloped it, the rim of it resting on his shoulders. His body twitched before finally collapsing to the floor. Dave looked back at his friend while still standing over the body of his victim.

“That was fucking cool, mate,” shouted Barry.

“I’m starting to like this day,” replied Dave.

“Time to go,” said Barry.

“To the Batmobile!” shouted James.

The three men were walking out of the room and into the corridor, but immediately stopped when they saw Sarah. She simply stood there, head down and motionless. She did however block the way to the stairs. The three slowly moved closer towards here, with no response. Finally in reach, Dave prodded her with the golf club, but still no response so he prodded harder.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

Sarah’s head shot up to look at the three, her eyes were frenzied, her skin mottled and wrinkled, congealed blood decorated her face.

“Shit!” shouted Barry.

James stepped forward, formed a type of martial arts guard, snap kicked to her stomach, making her keel forwards, then side kicked to her face sending her tumbling onto her back, but she simply got back up and drove forwards.

“What the fuck mate, no time for kung fu, let’s kill this bitch,” said Dave

Dave quickly lifted up the golf club and brought it down on to Sarah’s head, but she’d lurched towards them and the club hit her with the shaft, causing it to snap in half. The golf head flew across the corridor, Dave was left holding just twenty inches of the shaft. Looking up at what he had left, it had gone quite sharp when it snapped. He changed his grip and drove the golf club into her head, but missed the eye socket as intended, driving right through her cheek and into the mouth. She still kept shambling towards the three friends.

“Mmm, fuck, shit, balls, uh, take both her arms and hold her down!” shouted Dave.

The three men were backing up at the same speed Sarah was shambling towards them. Barry and James looked at each other with amazement.

“Are you mental, mate?” said Barry.

“Stop fucking around and do it, now!” shouted Dave.