Death Plague Omnibus [Four Zombie Novels] (35 page)

How long would it take the Americans to imagine the same syndrome spreading through their own cities? How long would it be before those plague pits were consumed by nuclear fire? If they didn’t do it, Billy knew the Russians or Chinese would press that button.

Billy shivered; he gazed back across the landscape, almost waiting for the mushroom cloud to appear on Birmingham’s skyline.

“We’re better off out of the city.” Billy threw his cigar down and wandered over his two men. The village of Seeton spread out before him, “Like a ripe apple, just ready to pick,” he muttered.

“Sir?”

Billy placed his hands on the top of the big man’s head. “Jacob, my friend, we’re about to embark on an exciting adventure. Look down there and tell me what you see.”

Jacob did as he was ordered. “Houses and a few shops, sir.” He shrugged. “Was that a trick question?”

“We’re setting up a new base down there. My intention is to ride into that village and inform the inbred locals that I’m their new ruler.” Billy enjoyed the look on their shocked, surprised faces. “If there is any dissent, then I’ll just allow my two enforcers to cut off a couple of ears and fingers and perhaps let you rage through Seeton’s womenfolk.”

Both Jacob’s and Craig’s face lit up like Christmas trees. Billy nodded. “The village is small, it’s remote, and should be easy to defend.”

The two minders looked at each other, and Billy had the feeling that his announcement had just disrupted whatever plans these two had already discussed. Craig nodded once before looking up at Billy.

“Sir, forgive us if we seem a little stunned at what you suggest, it just…”

“Yes, you expected us to find this girl, punish the little bitch, and get back home in time for tea and crumpets, yes?” He reached across, grabbed the front of Craig’s jacket, and pulled the stunned man off the wall. “Unlike you two dim-bulb halfwits, I have the ability to see beyond the front of my fucking face. There’s over a million people in our city and most of them will now be dead—dead yet still roaming the streets, eager for warm meat.” He released Craig and took a deep breath. “Is that what you really wish to return to? You two fucking clowns couldn’t even deal with one of those cunts, what will you do when there are hordes of them howling for your lovely warm blood?”

Billy saw the man’s hand casually drift down towards the back of his jeans. He wasn’t a fool; Billy knew exactly what the minder had stashed there. He snapped his arm forward and this time, Billy wrapped his fingers around Craig’s throat. He did not intend for this fool to cut short his interesting future by having a pig sticker shoved through Billy’s eyeball.

From the corner of his eye, he spied the other minder slide off the wall. “Don’t even entertain the thought of coming to Craig’s assistance.”

“I wasn’t, Sir…”

“Don’t you fucking lie to me! Is it not bad enough that I have one Judas in my midst?” Billy turned his attention back to Craig who appeared to be having a little difficulty in breathing. Billy could sympathise, only last week he had a horrible sore throat, not even his old gran’s hot honey recipe got rid of it.

He eased a grip ever so slightly, just to show that despite Craig’s obvious traitorous actions, his employer was willing to show him a little compassion.

“Now, Craig, have you washed away all those naughty thoughts yet?”

“Sir?”

Billy spun around. “This had better be fucking good!” he growled.

Jacob nodded, then pointed beyond the low wall. “Sir, we’ve got some company approaching.”

Billy dragged the minder over and looked down. “Shit, so we have.”

A group of the dead was following a terrified teenage girl up the grass embankment. Those things had been dead for some time, and Billy had trouble working out how they could still be moving, let alone have enough sense to locate and chase their prey. The girl abruptly took her eyes off her pursuers, saw the three men, and almost lost her balance.

“Help me!” she cried.

“Jacob? How many of those rotting cadavers can you see?”

“There’s twelve, sir. Shouldn’t we be helping her?”

Billy released the other minder who fell to his knees clutching his throat and trying to cough.

“Did you hear that, Craig?” he asked, crouching down. “Twelve dead things moving very slowly. Look at her, a healthy young girl like that could easily evade their clumsy movements and yet those things are closing in on her even as we speak. Just like you, Craig, she refuses to believe the reality of the situation. Now, that sort of thinking is expected for a civilian, but you are a cold-hearted killer.” He paused. “At least I thought you were.”

Billy stood up and snatched Jacob’s pistol out of the man’s hands. He targeted the two corpses closest to the sobbing girl and demolished their faces with two shots. Billy dropped the smoking gun back into Jacob’s hands.

“Craig, just this once I’ll forget your disgraceful indiscretion. It’s been a difficult few hours and just like that girl down there, and you too have refused to accept the reality.”

He scooped up Craig’s dropped handgun and thrust it into the minder’s hands. “There are five left each, gentlemen. Head shots only, please. Once they’re on the ground, bring that girl to me.”

He slowly wandered back to the van, smiling to himself as the cracks of gunfire shattered the silence. A few moments later Jacob approached Billy carrying the dazed girl in his arms. Craig stayed at a respectful distance.

He leaned towards her. “Are you okay, sweetie?” he asked, smiling. “There’s nothing to worry about now. My friends have stopped all those bad men.”

Jacob gently put her down, keeping hold of the girl’s hand.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“It’s the least I could do. My name is Billy; I hope we will be friends. What are you called?” He laughed. “It seems a bit silly to call you sweetie all the time.”

He watched the big man run his fingers through the girl’s hair; Billy guessed that the girl must be in too much shock to notice.

“Andrea Ellis,” she replied.

He nodded. Jacob had formed an attachment to the girl, and his reverent and protective stance really was quite touching. Billy watched Craig trying not to smirk; he’d noticed it too. Andrea couldn’t have been more than fourteen, an age bracket more associated with his favourite ex dealer’s deviant behaviour. Even so, Billy intended to make good use of this unexpected bonus.

He kneeled down in front of the girl. “Do you live round here, Andrea?”

“My dad owns a dairy farm just over a mile from here.”

Amazing, she said that with hardly a quiver in her voice. Kids adapted so quickly. “I’m sure that your parents must be worried sick. Do you want us to give you a lift home?” He smiled. “Just to make sure that no more bad guys come after you.”

He stood up and nodded at the other minder. “Craig, be a darling and just pop our guest in the back of the van.”

Billy looked down at the girl’s fingers buried in Jacob’s huge hand. The minder understood the message and let her go. He waited until they were both out of range before speaking.

“Jacob, I need to know every single detail about that village; make sure she tells it all. I don’t care how you retrieve the information as long as you’re quick about it. Once you’ve cleaned her out, you may do whatever you like to the lovely Andrea.”

It warmed Billy’s heart to watch the minder moan with pleasure.

“Consider this my gift to you for staying loyal. Just ensure that the girl dies after you’ve had your fun, and make sure she stays fucking dead.”

Jacob grinned and rushed to the back of the van. Billy grabbed another cigar from the cab and wandered over to the low wall. He gazed down at the village. He knew that he would enjoy his stay in Seeton.

Chapter Nineteen

This was one thing that he didn’t expect. Dean jumped as the pub doors slammed shut behind him, and the silence made the sound even louder. He looked around the deserted lounge of the Rose and Crown, not seeing a single soul.

He padded over to the bar, wondering if the pub had yet to open. This was too strange for words. This place was the hub of the community; even as a teen, the Rose and Crown was always packed out on a night and for much of the day too. The closest pub was over five miles away.

“Is there anybody here?”

This was just ridiculous, was this help yourself tonight or something? He let out a heavy sigh. Dean really could not do with this hassle. Where the hell was that stupid bartender?

It was as if everyone in the entire village had all done a runner. He’d seen nobody on his journey into the centre, and Dean had also noticed a disturbingly large amount of boarded up shops, including the pet shop. He was at a loss at what he could do now. He couldn’t continue without the help of another small animal.

He leaned back against the bar and considered just what choices he could make now; short of breaking into the pet shop and making off with one of their animals, he was at a loss. Dean sighed heavily and gazed into the open fireplace at the far side of the lounge. The sound of crackling wood and the low flickering flames enhanced the old world charm of the pub. This type of pub did not exist back in London, not for at least fifty years anyway. Strange how he’d never really taken much notice of the fire until now; not surprising considering on every other occasion the Rose and Crown was full to the brim of Seeton’s finest.

Half a dozen small, framed pictures hung above the mantelpiece, each one depicting various rural scenes of Seeton from decades ago. It didn’t astonish Dean to discover images of cows in four of the pictures. He then grinned to himself, maybe he ought go out into one of the fields and bag himself a cow? Seeton had more cows than people. Getting in the first injection wouldn’t be too difficult; those big dumb things were used to people.

He once remembered getting a right bollocking off Ken Ellis when he caught him and Tom in the act of cow tipping. He never did find out just what the farmer was doing hiding behind a wall at four in the morning.

The problem would arise with attempting to administer the second injection after the original solution had killed the animal and then brought it back to some resemblance of life. Dean tried to imagine a half-ton animal acting like that little gerbil, and he threw away his idea with contempt. Without a rifle to administer the second solution, it would be the equivalent of sneaking up on a ravenous polar bear to give it a kiss.

“Way too large,” he muttered.

“Can I help you, mate?”

Dean’s throat almost ejected his insides; he spun around, trying to regain his composure. Judging by the huge grin plastered across the blond youth’s acne ridden face, Dean guessed the kid found the whole situation terribly amusing.

“Sorry about that, mate. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He didn’t look sorry at all.  After looking at the boy’s well-muscled arms planted on the bar’s surface, Dean decided not to make an issue out of it.

“I’ll have a pint of that, please,” he said, pointing to one of the pumps. He’d never heard of the make before, not that it mattered. He’d only come in here to see if he could find the owner of that pet shop. After his little scare, he felt he needed something to calm his nerves.

As the young man drew his pint, Dean looked past his bulky body and through the open door behind the bar. The room beyond had been furnished in the same style as the pub, and the only difference was the large amount of electronic equipment scattered around the maroon room. He then saw what the young man must have been watching and attempted not to smirk. It appeared that the barman had a passion for old cartoons. Dean watched Jerry run along the top of a curtain rail, being chased by a very upset Tom. Dean then saw another cat curled up asleep on a rocking chair beside the television.

A cat would be just perfect for his needs. There must be dozens of felines skulking around the village; maybe he should purchase a tin of cat food and try to lure one back to the house.

“Here you go.”

Dean nodded and handed the man a ten-pound note. He took a sip of his drink, trying to remember if his dad’s neighbour’s had any cats. It seemed to be his only viable option apart from using a cow; what other choice did he have?

“Where is everyone by the way? Is it normally this quiet?”

The barman thrust Dean’s change into his open palm; Dean got the impression that his company was not welcome in here.

“They’re having some sort of meeting over at the village hall.” He nodded over to the tap room. “One of our rooms is occupied, so some fucker had to stay behind to keep an eye on the place.”

Dean looked across at the other room through the small window in the door; he saw the back of a blonde head, so he wasn’t as alone as he first thought.

“Do you think you’ll be needing anything else? Only, I’ve got some college work to catch up on.”

Dean shook his head, wondering if this big oaf had realised that he’d left his television on.

“Right,” he mumbled before turning and marching back into the room. He slammed the door behind him.

“What a charming young man.”

He brought the glass to his lips and took another swallow. He pulled a face…this stuff was bloody horrible. Dean placed the half full glass back on the bar and headed for the main door. As he grabbed the handle, the door to the tap room swung open and a young woman ran out and raced over to Dean.