The Z Infection (42 page)

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Authors: Russell Burgess

Tags: #Zombie Apocalypse

BOOK: The Z Infection
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I could see the others converging on
me.  I knew this was how many others had met their end, unable to get free of
one and being swamped by several others. 

I hit him again and again.  I think I
broke his jaw with the second punch.  I know I almost broke my hand.  Still he
wouldn’t let go and the others were getting closer by the second.

Finally, I reached into my belt and
grabbed my new secret weapon.  As the man made one last lunge towards me, I
brought the knuckleduster around and caught him with a vicious blow on the side
of the head.  The three nails embedded themselves in his skull and there was a
momentary look of something that resembled surprise on his face, before his
body went limp and he slumped on top of me.

I couldn’t waste any time though. 
The others were almost upon me.  I rolled the body off me and grabbed for my
axe.  I swung at the first one, trying to keep him at bay as I fought to buy
myself a little time.  It didn’t do much.  They had no fear at all.  Why would
they?

I swung again, catching him with a
glancing blow as another one came into range.  I was out of ideas and out of
time.  My rifle was lying useless on the ground, too far away to reach.  I
swung again.  And suddenly the man’s head erupted in an explosion of blood and
brains.

I fell back to the ground and a
second later heard the shot.  It was a rifle.  There was another and then a
third.  The infected were dropping as they were being shot.  Then there were
figures amongst them.  At least ten.  They were using knives and axes and cut
through the rest of the dead, with a skill that surpassed anything I had seen
before.

When it was over I got to my knees. 
I was surrounded by a group that numbered at least fifteen men and women.  One
of the men picked up my rifle and examined it. 

‘This is payment for us saving your
life,’ he said.  His accent was Scottish.  I assumed he was local.

‘We’ll take your axe as well,’ said a
young woman.

There was nothing I could do.  Even
if I had been in a condition to fight, there were far too many of them for me. 
So I let them take my weapons and thanked the stars I was still in one piece. 
For the time being at least.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

Clive Westlake

09:30 hours, Wednesday 27
th
May, Hounslow,
West London

I was really pleased with the way my
new group came together.  They were frightened, that was to be expected, but
they were also determined to live.  They had all seen terrible things and all
had lost loved ones.  Some had lost their entire families, while others were
like me and had no idea where they were or if they were alive.

Once they were comfortable with their
new weapons I decided to test their resolve.  Peter was first up.  We were
moving as a group through a quiet suburban area, scavenging for anything that
would be of use, when one of the group signalled that we had company up ahead.

I went forward for a better look,
then motioned for the others to join me.  It was a woman.  She was elderly and
on her own.  It was as good a time as any for Peter to be tested.

‘She’s your target,’ I said.

He swallowed.  ‘She’s old.  Can’t I
have one who’s about my age, or a bit older?’

‘What’s the matter with you?’ I
whispered.  ‘That old woman is as capable of taking you out as any of them.  It
makes no difference what age they are.’

He looked uncertain, but deep inside
he knew I was right.  It didn’t matter what age they were, they were all
dangerous.  Once you got past the sympathy for their state, it was much easier
to deal with them.

‘Okay,’ he said.  ‘I’ll do it.’

He was about to go for her when I
took him by the arm.

‘Remember,’ I said.  ‘Aim for the
head.’

‘I remember,’ he said.

He stood up and walked into the
street.  She didn’t see him at first, but then something alerted her and she
tensed before turning to face him.  Peter stopped.  He had a golf club in his
hands and had sharpened it to a point, effectively turning it into a spear.

The old woman howled at him and began
walking his way.  Peter held his ground.  He had some guts.  Many would have
turned and ran.  But he stood there, calm through his fear, until she was
almost on him.  Then, in one movement, he stepped back and thrust the spear
towards her at the same time. 

The point caught the woman in the
face, but obviously didn’t go through her brain because she kept coming.  Peter
yanked the point back out and took two more steps backwards, steadying himself
for the continued attack.

As she bore down on him again, blood
pouring from the wound in her face, he lunged.  This time the blade struck the
woman in the forehead.  There was a crack of bone as it went through her skull,
followed by a noise like as sigh as her body first tensed and then relaxed.  She
was dead.  Properly this time and her now lifeless body fell to the ground.

Peter withdrew the blade and walked
back to the group.  He was greeted with congratulations and pats on the back
from his peers. 

‘That,’ I said.  ‘Is how it is done. 
Once the brain is pierced they cannot exist.  Hit the brain every time and we
win.’

They were buoyed by the success, but
I knew it wouldn’t last.  They would need more victories like this one and I
had a plan to boost their confidence even more.

We found a narrow alleyway in one of
the nearby streets.  It had houses on either side, hemming it in and was just
about wide enough for three people to walk through it side by side.  At one end
it led out onto a common and at the other it disappeared into the housing
estate.

‘This would make a perfect defensive
point,’ I said. 

I reminded the group about the
Spartans at the Battle of Thermopylae, when they held off tens of thousands of Persians
with only three hundred men.  It was met by a few blank faces.  Obviously a lot
of them had never heard the story.

‘They were outnumbered by about a
thousand to one, but they still killed thousands of their enemies.  They did
that because they chose the ground and chose it well,’ I said.  ‘They packed
themselves into a tight space, which made the greater number of Persians
useless.  If we could draw the infected down this alleyway, their numbers would
count for nothing.  They don’t think like humans any longer.  They won’t look
for another way to attack us.  They will just keep coming and we will keep
killing them.’

‘We’ll tire,’ said the married guy. 
‘They don’t get fatigued.’

‘Agreed,’ I said.  ‘So we will limit
the number we target.  Fifty should be enough to start with.’

‘Fifty?’ said his wife.  ‘That’s a
lot.  There are only eight of us.’

‘That’s six each,’ I said.  ‘You’ve
seen how easily they go down when you hit them right.  It doesn’t matter if
there are two or two hundred.  In this space it won’t make any difference. 
They will only be able to come at us two or three at a time.’

‘How do we get them in here?’ asked
one of the girls.

‘Noise,’ I said.  ‘They are attracted
to sound.  We go out onto the common and attract them to us, only we don’t stay
out there to die.  We retreat into the alley and they will follow.  We have
three people in the front line and two behind them.  The other three will act
as a reserve in case the first and second rows get tired.’

‘And if others come behind us?’ asked
another.

I looked around.  Every back garden
had a gate.  I pushed the first one and it opened.

‘We go in there,’ I said.  ‘Then
through the house and out the other side.’

There was another discussion as we
talked through how many we should aim to fight in this first proper
engagement.  In the end I explained that we would have to decide at the time if
there were too many for us to cope with.

‘We can always run away to fight
another day,’ I said.

So it was decided, in a somewhat
democratic process, that we would make our first stand against the infected in
that narrow alleyway in Hounslow.  It wasn’t exactly a glamorous setting, for
humanity to start its fight back against the dead, but we were way past glamour
by now and it was a start.

 

Callum MacPherson

11:52 hours, Wednesday 27
th
May, Central
London

I was amazed by what Xiaofan and
Claire had achieved in such a short space of time.  They could be almost
self-sufficient, tucked up in their fortress.  They had food and security,
which were the two main things, but they also had weapons and some luxuries
too.  Yes, they had to take some risks from time to time, going out into the
streets when they ran low on certain things, but their set up had given me an
idea.

Once they were satisfied that we
posed no risk to them, they allowed the rest of my men to join me.  We used our
own rations for our evening meal, to preserve their food as much as possible,
but we were given a beer each and they let the lads use the hot tub.

I had called the base to explain that
we were safe for the time being and they were relieved to hear it.  The chopper
had a more serious problem than was at first thought and it had been grounded. 
All the others were already committed on other jobs and we were told that we
couldn’t get extracted until the next day.

So we had settled in for the night,
taking over the whole living room as our temporary billet.

The next day I took Xiaofan and
Claire to one side.

‘What you have here isn’t unique,’ I
said.  ‘But it is impressive.  You could remain here for months, if not years. 
I doubt that you’ve had many problems from the infected this high up?’

Claire laughed.  ‘They did get into
the building once, but Xiaofan dealt with that.  What really worries me is what
happens when the power goes off?’

‘I spoke to Headquarters about that
recently,’ I said.  ‘They have pulled out all the stops to keep the power on
for as long as possible.  It isn’t easy, but it can be done.  When I go back I
will be making sure that it stays on in this part of town for as long as
possible, but you have to accept that it might go off eventually.’

‘What happens then?’ Xiaofan asked. 
‘We rely on the security doors to keep the infected out.’

‘We could board them up for added
security,’ I suggested.  ‘We could secure all the ground floor windows too,
then rig up a rope ladder from one of the first floor flats.  I’ve not met a
zombie yet, who could climb a ladder.’

‘What about lighting and cooking?’
asked Claire.  ‘I’m used to hot food and I like my hot tub.’

‘We can drop in a generator and some
fuel for emergencies,’ I said.  ‘We can also drop in tools, weapons and
ammunition for you.  This could be a fortress.’

They looked at one another. 

‘I’m happy to stay if you are,’ said
Xiaofan.

‘Looks like it’s a done deal then,’
said Claire.  ‘We stay.’

By late morning I had been advised
that the chopper was ready to come back to collect us.  I gave our location and
gave them a list of things I wanted for the two women.  Those included the
generators and fifty litres of fuel, automatic rifles with enough ammunition to
last for several days, extra food, water and medicines.

My request was greeted with some
degree of surprise but I assured them that I would explain everything when I
returned.

Just before midday I was contacted
again and told that the ETA for extraction was at 11:50 hours.  I assembled the
men on the flat roof and when the chopper arrived the equipment and supplies
was lowered down to them.  Once that was done we transferred it inside the
apartment, while our transport landed on a nearby roof and waited for us.

I gave the girls a crash course in
how to use the rifles and made sure that the generators were properly
positioned for them and they knew what to do to switch them on.  Then I said my
goodbyes and promised I would return soon.

When we were finished, one of my men
called the chopper and it returned and hoisted us up.  Then we were away,
leaving those two determined women to their rooftop paradise.  I envied what
they had there.  It was something really special and it was something I would
have given anything to have.

I was still thinking of it when I was
nudged by the co-pilot of the helicopter as we approached the Northern
Operating Base.  He pointed to the ground and I had to hold onto the seat as I
feared I might have fallen out through the shock of what I was seeing.

On the ground, marching towards the
Northern Operating Base, was an army of infected that stretched as far as the
eye could see.  Never mind thousands, or hundreds of thousands.  There must
have been a million of them. 

‘Where the fuck did they come from?’
I yelled.

He held up his hands.

‘We need to tell the Commanding
Officer at the base bout this,’ I shouted.

‘Already done,’ he yelled back. 
‘They were already aware of this swarm and are engaging them as we speak.’

As I looked on I could see the armour
from the Northern Operating Base, backed up by infantry, making their way
towards the swarm.  It looked like a pitiful force against that mass of
infected, but I knew they weren’t engaging the enemy to try to win a battle. 
They were hopelessly outnumbered, without a chance of winning the fight.  They
were simply buying time for the others to escape. 

 

Sophie Westerly

12:15 hours, Wednesday 27
th
May, Windsor
Castle HQ, Windsor

I found Kareef on the wall near the
front gate of the castle.  He was gazing down at the swarm of infected below
and was in his own little world, where everything was good and his wife and
children were safe.

‘Hey stranger,’ I said.  ‘Have you
been avoiding me?’

He shook his head.  ‘No.  I just
needed some space to think.’

I stood next to him.  If anything the
swarm that surrounded us seemed to be even greater than before.  I couldn’t see
where it ended.  The stench was horrific.  We were slowly getting used to it
now but most days, when I took my turn on the wall, I still had to cover my
mouth and nose with a scarf.

‘Have you made a decision about what
you’re going to do?’ I asked at last.

I feared the answer.  I liked
Kareef.  He was a nice guy and he had saved my life several times.  It was
becoming a standing joke.  Every time he mentioned it he added more to it.  I
think, at the last count, it was about thirty.

‘I can’t stay here,’ he said.  ‘I owe
it to my family to look for them at the very least.  But I don’t know where to
begin looking and even if I did there’s no way out of here while this lot
surround us.’

He was in despair.  I really feared
that he might lose hope altogether and do something stupid.

‘The northern safe zone was supposed
to have been set up just outside Aylesbury,’ I said.

‘They told me the zones were never
used.  They were overrun before they were implemented,’ he said.

‘That’s true,’ I replied.  ‘But the
idea was there and they had begun to organise them.  Maybe they just moved
somewhere else?  In any case your wife wouldn’t have known that.  She might
have headed in that direction, thinking that it was safe.’

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