The Dead Walk The Earth II (22 page)

They passed by the escalators leading to the upper floors and continued towards the rear of the department store. Above their heads, they could hear the occasional dull thud and thump as something moved about in the darkness. It could have been the infected or it may have been survivors, but they were not there to investigate.

Marty led them through a door and they emerged into the storage area of the shop. Racks and boxes filled nearly every space in the cramped room and for a while, they remained still as they scrutinised their surroundings. One behind the other, they headed for the rear doors that they hoped would lead them into the alleyway of an adjacent building.

Bobby raised his rifle and pointed it at the exit while Marty counted backwards from three and then pushed the bar of the fire escape, allowing the heavy door to swing open. Immediately, Bobby stepped back and began to squeeze his trigger up to the point just before firing.

A figure stood framed in the doorway and silhouetted in the pale light that filtered in from outside. Its body was emaciated with the white bones of its ragged shoulders shining brightly in contrast to its dark and withered skin. Its scrawny neck appeared far too delicate to support the weight of its head and hanging around its knees, the fetid remains of its intestines spewed out from the gaping cavern of its abdomen. Its long wiry hair stood out in strands from its scalp and it cocked its head continuously as it emitted questioning grunts and groans. It was completely blind. Its eyes were gone, along with much of the soft tissue of its face. In their place were colonies of maggots that squirmed through the remains of the flesh and slowly ate away at the muscle and sinew that was left behind. The creature could see nothing but it was obvious that it could detect movement and sound close by as it stood, trying to zero in on the source.

Marty reached out and slammed the stock of his rifle into the side of the figure’s head. The dull crack echoed in the narrow passage behind the store and was quickly followed by the sound of the body hitting the ground as it collapsed under the heavy blow.

Marty stepped forward, slammed his heel down into the side of its head, and felt the skull collapse beneath his boot. The infected let out a low grunt then remained still as the men filed out from the building and into the anticipated alleyway.

It took some time before they had managed to circumnavigate the large build-up of infected in the area. Sneaking through shattered buildings, along narrow backstreets, and over the numerous corpses that littered the pavements, the team slowly advanced. They stopped regularly, taking cover in the shadows or behind the debris of civilisation as groups of meandering corpses staggered by, completely unaware of the living men that were close by and watching them through the green glow of their night vision.

By the time they were approaching their destination the sky above had begun its slow transition from night to day. Thick banks of cloud still raced across from one horizon to the next but the slowly rising sun was beginning to penetrate through the blackness of the night and illuminate the earth below. Stan and his men soon had no need to wear their NVGs. They could see clearly enough the city around them and the remains of the thousands of bodies that filled the streets.

After four months of abandonment by the living, the buildings were already showing signs of decay. The pavements were beginning to become overgrown with weeds and the smaller animals and insects had not hesitated to take up residence in every available space. Nearly every window of the city had been smashed, leaving the interiors wide open to the elements and everywhere the men looked, Mother Nature was claiming back her ground.

“That’s the factory, just up ahead of us,” Stan whispered as the six of them sat huddled against the side of a wall.

Ahead of them, an old brick building that looked out of place from the rest of its surroundings was sprawled over a wide area. It was built from red brick with large ornate windows and chimneystacks that towered high into the sky and dominated the land around it. Surrounding the complex was a wall with an old iron gate. The entrance had been violently forced open at some point and sat precariously clinging to its hinges. By whom, they could not tell. It could have been the living, looking for supplies or a place to hide, or it could have been the infected hunting the people that were trying to get away from them.

The place looked deserted. There was no sign of movement beyond the gate or in amongst the buildings of the factory, warehouses, or offices. Beyond the complex, the tall building of the apartment block could be seen. Its modern architecture, mostly glass and steel, was in stark contrast to the nineteenth century brick of the factory. From what the men had seen on the maps and satellite imagery, the apartments shared the same grounds as the factory. The perimeter wall of the industrial buildings had been extended to encompass the new addition with a wall separating the two buildings. 

“Marty, Bobby,” Stan hissed, “have a look about and give us a call on the radio if it’s clear. Bull, give them some cover.”

The three men nodded and moved towards the gate. Bull positioned himself close to the entrance’s security cabin while the other two moved in to the complex. Stan, Taff, and Danny remained in the street, keeping an eye on the outer perimeter.

The road was filled with burned and overturned vehicles of all shapes and sizes. Bodies lay motionless in the gutters and countless bones and pieces of blood-stained and tattered clothing cluttered the pavements.

Danny noticed the abundance of odd shoes discarded within the street and absentmindedly wondered just how many corpses there were walking about with one bare foot. The thought amused him and caused him to smile fleetingly.

Taff looked at him and raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but Danny shook his head and continued to scan his surroundings.

The buildings facing the factory lay in ruin. Some had been burned to their frames while the remainder bore the marks of the devastation in their masonry. Smashed windows, caved in doors, and bullet holes pockmarking their outer walls. There was no visible sign of the infected but their intermittent moans could still be heard through the adjacent streets and from within the buildings. Apart from the static debris that filled the area, the street was devoid of anything moving.

“All clear. The place looks empty, Stan,” Marty’s voice informed them over the radio five minutes later.

With a nod from their commander, the remainder of the team moved in through the factory’s entrance and met up with the others. From there, they split into three groups. Bull and Danny remained at the entrance, covering the gate with their light machineguns, while the others began a three-hundred and sixty degree sweep of the building’s grounds, moving in opposite directions and meeting up on the far side.

They checked the doors, the outbuildings and more importantly, the wall that encompassed the factory complex. Next, they chose their point of entry and prepared to move inside the main building. The two gunners were called up from the gate area to join the rest of their men at the large bay doors leading into the factory floor from the far right hand corner.

Bobby led them in with Bull close on his shoulder. With the extra firepower of the Minimi, it would afford them to put down a massive weight of fire into the confined space of the factory while they withdrew to the open area outside.

Inside they found very much what they expected to see in a building of that sort. Old and rusted machinery, grated walkways, masses of piping, and asbestos-coated partitions that separated the factory floor from the office areas. Corrosion coated nearly every surface, along with dust and dead vegetation. It appeared that the place had not been in use for many decades and weeds and moss had begun to spread over the abandoned equipment and workstations.

Above them, the corrugated roof bore the tell-tale signs of neglect. Large holes gaped up into the morning sky and networks of pipes, some of them hanging from their rickety brackets, crisscrossed the lofty ceiling. The place had probably sat slowly rotting away and steadily becoming forgotten about by the city council. The swathes of graffiti that covered every available space and the empty beer cans and used syringes that carpeted the floor was evidence enough that the place was long out of use.

The six men spread out and advanced along through the main workshop. Their eyes scanned every inch of the ground and peered into every dark recess between machinery and workstations. Small offices and cupboards without windows presented themselves as dark caves needing to be cleared by torchlight and the countless nooks and crannies that could hold a threat had to be checked before the advance could continue.

Everything was done in complete silence and systematically. It took them just over an hour to confirm that the area was safe. They had seen no infected, but evidence of them having been there at some point was in abundance. In one of the offices, Danny had discovered the remains of a number of people. It had been impossible to estimate their number due to the state of their bodies. They were little more than skeletons, completely stripped of their clothing and flesh, dismembered and scattered over the floor.

Next, they moved out and towards the tall apartment block next door. It was separated from the factory by a breezeblock wall with an old rusty gate obstructing the entrance. It was easy for the team to bypass the corroded padlock and enter into the narrow walkway along the side of the building. Again, Bull remained behind to cover the factory and watch their rear. He placed himself at the gateway that separated the old Victorian building from the more modern living space.

“You be careful, fellas,” he whispered to them as Stan led the team along the walkway, “and don’t talk to any strangers.”

“Even if they have a huge bag of sweets?” Taff quipped through his radio as he followed on at the rear of the group.

They made their way along towards the rear of the building. It had originally been the administration offices for the factory, built in the 1970s and had been converted into an apartment complex when the factory had closed down. The car park at the back was still filled with dozens of vehicles and the doors leading in through the main entrance had been barricaded. Like every other defensive position throughout the city, the barriers had not been able to withstand the sustained assaults of the infected. Now, the doors lay smashed and pushed to the side. Overturned furniture that had been hastily piled against the entrance filled the space beyond the threshold and swathes of dried blood covered the walls and floor of the foyer.

Floor by floor, while Danny remained in the entrance hall, Stan, Taff, Marty, and Bobby moved through the building, clearing each apartment as they went. Most of the doors had been forced open or left askew and many were now empty. Trails of blood were everywhere and it appeared that the occupants had either turned or escaped through the chaos. Human remains were in abundance and the powerful stench of rotting bodies was heavy in the air. However, there were no indications that any of the infected were still inside.

An hour later and they reached the final floor. There were six storeys to the building and four apartments on each, except for the top level. There were only two doors there. Much larger and more luxurious than the floors beneath, these had been the penthouse apartments that would have cost their owners twice, maybe three times as much as the rest of the residences in the building.

In the last apartment to be cleared, Bobby was almost taken by surprise. Turning the handle and pushing the door inwards, he was greeted with the gaunt faces and lifeless eyes of two infected that came charging along the hallway towards him. He flung himself to the side of the doorframe and raised his rifle just as the first of the bodies shot out from the gloomy apartment. Bobby’s timing and judgement were precise and the stock of his M-4 crashed into the side of the decomposing woman’s head as her ghastly face appeared over the threshold. The impact sent her crashing into the doorframe with a loud thud and then into a heap on the floor where she lay sprawled and motionless with thick congealed blood oozing out from the gaping wound in her skull.

As soon as his blow struck the first body, Bobby snatched back his rifle and thrust it into the face of the infected that quickly appeared behind the first. With a loud crack, the weapon struck the dead man square in face. The man reeled back along the hallway as the butt of the rifle crashed into his features, shattering his nose and cheekbones. He let out a startled grunt as the blow landed and he dropped to the floor as his legs continued forward and his body was thrown backwards from the force of the blow. Bobby stepped into the doorway and simultaneously drew his knife from its scabbard. With a single thrust, he pushed the blade through the reanimated corpse’s eye and ended its unholy existence.

The rest of the team had remained on the landing, watching Bobby as he expertly dealt with the threat. They knew that he could handle the situation and any attempt to help him would have only resulted in them getting in the way.

Bobby huffed and nodded to the others before disappearing into the dark hallway. Taff followed closely and together, they cleared the spacious rooms, one by one. There were no more infected waiting for them. However, what they did find were the bodies of two children, eaten to the bone, lying strewn across the living room carpet in vast pools of dried blood.

Stan and Taff moved up to the roof to confirm they had eyes-on on their targets and to establish communications with the Operations Room on the Isle of Wight. To the south they were able to see the junctions they intended to use as their muster points for the infected clearly. Visibility was better than they had anticipated and they were able to see far into the distance along the ruined street. There were quite a few reanimates wandering around through the buildings, roads, and intersections but they were not in anything like the expected mass numbers they would be once the sound devices were triggered.