Deadfall: A Zombie Apocalypse Thriller, page 8
“You live alone?” said Joe.
“Yeah. What’s it to you?”
“Far from here?”
“Got a flat in Deptford. Why? There trouble that way?” He looked away in thought. “I hope the buses are still running.”
Joe looked at Mathew. “We got to take him with us. He won’t make it otherwise.”
Arthur smirked. “Uh? You lost your marbles? I made it home through the riots in 2011. I’ll be fine.”
Joe looked back outside at the bridge. “The bridge doesn’t look guarded. We get across that then head towards your mates.”
“You do that,” said Arthur. “Me? I’m going to pay a little visit to the supervisor, and log…a … complete…” He walked past Joe and stood on the dock, looking across the oily dark waters to the bank on the opposite side and the person that was stumbling there. “That man… drunk… or…” His expression detailed what his mind couldn’t make sense of, for the person clearly only had one arm, and their head was limp against their chest. “What the hell is that…”
Joe walked a little closer, standing in the doorway. “That’s one of them. What attacked us before, they were the things as well. And probably that animal you tussled with.”
Arthur turned around and Joe could see in his eyes, that he was starting to believe. Both men though failed to see the dark mass moving beneath the gentle lapping waves until it was too late.
There was no roar accompanying the crashing of waves, as something of white mottled fur and pink gums containing rows of blood red teeth broke free of the canal and took the middle-aged man with one sweeping, tearing movement which cut short his scream.
Joe was on his rear, water and blood splattered across his person before fully realising what had happened. He scrambled upright, pulling his knife from its sheath and ran back to the drenched door, but only caught the beast sink back beneath the water carrying its blood-soaked prize with it.
“What the fuck was that!” shouted Mathew.
“It… looked like a polar bear…”
“Alive or dead?”
“Does it matter.”
“Shit… it just took him…” He looked down. “The animals are what caused the initial panic. I heard a soldier say they were almost impossible to put down. Zombie pigeons I can live with, but polar bears? Lions?”
Joe continued watching the water which had returned to gentle lapping waves.
“Has it gone?”
Shadows were now eating through the glass and concrete of the city, hiding what lurked there and sedate ripples cascaded across the surface of the water. “I think so. We need to go.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LIZ
Liz peered through the few inches of gap between James’ curtains and the window frame. The front of her house as well as the rest of the street was bathed in a pink glow from the setting sun, and within the shadows behind her own drapes, things moved. Her house was being haunted by the living dead.
“They still there?” said James, who was seated on his sofa behind her. A cold cup of coffee was on the armrest as well as a bowl of crisps he had laid out on the wooden coffee table.
“Yes.”
“There’s nothing you can do for now.”
“I should have left a note… something for Joe. He will think I’ve left the house. I have to go back and do that.”
“It will be dark soon…”
“I know. But if he thinks I’ve left, he won’t know I’m here.”
“If the things are inside you can’t go back… Maybe leave a note on your car?”
She nodded. It was a good idea. “Yes, I’ll do that in a bit. Thank you.”
“What for?”
She turned around. “For this. Everything. You could have just left me there. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight…”
He smiled. “Meh, I needed the company!”
She smiled in kind and turned back to keeping watch while her mind tried to make sense of the past few hours.
He slid a small radio closer to him and switched it on. “Although I still need tea bags.”
She smiled.
Static then voices came from the device. “Hey, I’m getting something.”
A stern sounding male voice continued talking. “We are getting reports from France that the whole of the United Kingdom is being placed in quarantine by other nations, with nobody being allowed to leave or enter the country. Some are saying though that a handful of private planes and boats did make it out before the quarantine was put in place and searches are on by neighbouring nations to track down those people. Returning to the situation within the country, which has not faced a national emergency like this since World War Two. The eleven major evacuation camps, positioned around the country, are already near full capacity due to the constant flow of people from the cities and with the internet being down for most people, there are a whole lot of us who are worried about loved ones that we can’t contact. For now, I’m going to keep broadcasting from my own little radio station on the isle of Wight on the south coast. There’s not a lot of point playing ads, but I think we could all do with a little music. So here’s—”
James turned the volume down. “So still nothing on what’s causing this.”
“They probably know but aren’t telling people. Don’t want to make matters worse.”
“I’m not sure how it could be worse… You’re not going to move away from that window, are you, until we put a note on your car?”
“No.”
He stood. “Then that is what we need to do. I’m guessing it’s still light out?”
“Just…”
“Can you see any of the things in the street?”
She pulled the curtains back a little more and stretched to look as far left and right as she could, which was roughly fifty yards in both directions, with no sign of any movement. “I think it’s clear.”
He moved to a sideboard and grabbed a sheet of A4 paper from the printer there, then a marker pen and handed it to her. “Write the note, I’ll keep looking.”
He took her place as she moved to the table and scribbled a note mentioning she was across the road. “Okay, I’m ready.” James was looking to his right. “You see something?”
“Thought I saw some shadows moving… But it still looks clear. Let’s get this done. You keep watch from downstairs, I’ll run to the car, place it under the wiper and run back. Simple.”
They made their way out of the flat, down the internal stairs to the ground floor.
Liz nodded to the closed door to the other flat. “Anyone in there?”
James walked to the front door, looking through the small panels of glass to the side of it to see if the front garden was still clear which it was. “I don’t think they returned. It’s empty.” He looked back at her. “Ready?”
She nodded and he pulled the door open and peered out into the twilight of a warm summer evening, then stepped onto the slabbed path and moved quickly along it, onto the pavement and kept on going. He quickly got to the car, pulled the wiper back and—
An ear piercing wail cried out, together with the car’s lights flashing on and off. “Fuck!” He slid the piece of paper beneath the wiper, turned and ran back across the road, where he almost bumped into Liz running the other way. “Where you going?” he shouted.
There was no time for an answer, and she resisted glancing along the street. Instead she ran up her path, unlocked her door, pushing it open and seeing the hallway clear, grabbed the car keys from a small drawer unit. Spinning around, she pointed and shook the key fob at her vehicle.
“Turn off!” she cried, repeatedly pressing the small plastic device.
The lights switched off and the street fell back into silence. It took a few seconds for her ears to adjust and pick up the noises coming from the room behind and the creaking boards above. She ran to the door, pulling it closed behind her and kept on going, across the street to where James was waiting.
He started to move back into the house, but she remained on the path, looking back at her house, a sudden dose of bewilderment washing over her.
“Come on!” he whispered.
She angled her head to the sky. Her mind suddenly captured by the absurdity of the situation. “Is this really happening?”
“Yes!” he said, raising his voice a little and anxiously looking down the street.
Nodding, she walked with him back inside and he closed the door, resting on it, his breathing heavy.
“Um, James?”
“Yeah?”
Liz looked at the door to the downstairs flat, which was open a few inches. “That door wasn’t open a moment—”
Something fell to the floor inside the ground floor flat.
James ran to the bottom of the stairs pulling Liz with him. “Come on!”
She resisted, staying at the bottom. “How many zombies you know can open doors?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know! I don’t know what they can do! Let’s get back up stairs!”
Liz took a step towards the flat’s entrance, the floorboard creaking below her. She knocked gently on the door. “Hello?”
She waited for a response as did James a few steps higher behind her, although he was shaking his head.
Suddenly there was a scuffling sound. Liz pushed the door open, seeing a long combined living and dining area. The sound was coming from her right, and was now accompanied by swearing. She moved into the room, ready for anything.
A slight figure, a foot smaller than Liz, dressed almost in all black with a small backpack was slamming their fists into the patio doors, while also yanking hard on the handle. They swore again.
“Hey, It’s okay. I just want to talk,” said Liz. James appeared alongside her.
The smaller person, from their build and protests of not being set free, a girl, spun around. They were wearing a woollen mask and ski goggles.
Liz held her hands up. “I don’t care what you take from this flat. It’s not mine. Maybe I can help you. I’m Liz. This is James.”
“I’m looking for food,” said the girl.
James pointed to the other door, the one he presumed led to the kitchen. “Look in there.”
“I have. It’s gone.”
Liz briefly looked at him. “This man has food. I’m sure he won’t mind giving you some.”
James remained quiet.
“What’s your name?” said Liz.
“Jewel.”
“Okay, Jewel… how about you come up—”
A pale faced figure came out of the dwindling light of the back garden, slamming up against the patio door before Liz could finish. The girl jumped away, hitting up against a chair. They all watched what appeared to be a man of middling years, with decaying black teeth and torn trousers revealing legs covered in veins, sliding nailless fingers over the glass, which shuddered.
“Come on,” said James, “We can shut the door to this flat. Even if he gets in, he won’t get out.”
Jewel moved around the dining table, her hidden eyes not leaving the thing outside, and moved into the building’s hallway. James closed the door, looking at her. “How you get in there?”
“Kitchen window was open.”
“Ok.” They quickly made their way up the stairs to the landing, then into the flat where he slid the old bolt at the top, across.
Jewel stood in the hallway, seemingly not knowing what to do with her hands.
“You still need the mask?” said Liz.
The girl removed it, revealing black, tied back hair and brown eyes, and a scar on her left cheek. “So, food?”
“What are you? Fifteen?” said Liz.
“Sixteen and what of it?” She followed James into the kitchen, where his opened the first cupboard, which was full of packets of biscuits and crisps. She frowned. “You know this stuff is bad for you, right?”
“You want some of this, or not?”
She grabbed some biscuits and some crisps and put them in her pack.
“Do you live with your parents?” said Liz.
“Nope,” said Jewel, opening the next cupboard without invitation. Her eyes lit up on seeing cans of beer. “You can’t get alcohol anywhere. All looted. That’s why I’m going through the houses. You don’t run into the gangs.” She started to put the four pack in her bag, when James took it, breaking the pack in half and handed two back. She frowned and put them away.
“Gangs?” said Liz.
Jewel held her bag, judging the weight. “Yup. No coppers, so gangs are running everything now.”
“What about the things?”
“The dead?” said the girl.
“As long as you’re not cornered, you’re alright.”
“And the dead animals?”
The girl scoffed. “Animals? You off your brain, bruh? Ain’t no dead animals. Just people. Zombies, like.”
“There are animals too…”
Jewel frowned. “I ain’t afraid of any dead animals. If I see any, I’ll just kill them with this.” She produced a small, black handgun, making the other two in the small room tense up and move ever so slightly back. She shook her head. “Don’t fret. If I was gonna shoot you, I would have done it down stairs. Anyway, thanks for this stuff, but I gotta be on my way.”
She moved towards Liz, who remained in the doorway. “Stay with us.” She ignored the obvious intake of breath from the man nearby.
“Uh?” said Jewel.
Liz nodded towards the window and the almost darkness beyond the glass. “It can’t be safe out there. Why don’t you stay until light?”
The girl looked at James then back to Liz. “You ain’t my mother. I’m fine out there.”
With some resignation Liz stepped to the side, letting the girl pass, who then paused before moving out of view. “Be careful.” It was a strange thing for a stranger to say, thought Liz.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JOE
Joe eyes’s shifted from dark window to dark window of the two-story brick built homes which bordered the street. Were they empty? Had all of central London left?
The last vestiges of daylight were being replaced with gloom. To Joe it felt as if a lid was closing above him, sealing him in with whatever else was left in the city.
With Mathew, he walked quickly along the pavement, checking for any movement where the streetlights did not reach. There were noises though. In the distance, muffled, nondescript sounds of unknown origin were just audible.
But where they were was silent apart from their hearts beating in their ears and the soft padding of their boots on the dry concrete.
Mathew checked the map on his tablet, then nodded to the road ahead. They quickly crossed, spotting the small abandoned car in the center of the road, and swept past. Even if this street was devoid of any other vehicles, most of the main routes were not, being jammed with columns of cars, vans and trucks, their doors open, their cabins and usually their storage compartments, vacant.
It wasn’t just the dead that had emerged during the day, but also those that would take advantage of those that had fled. Most of the stores they had passed were empty shells, their contents either gone or dispersed across the pavement outside.
It also turned out that having an SUV was a waste of time during the apocalypse. At least in the city. Too many people. Too many cars, not enough room to escape. Joe wondered how nine million people did get out, and where they were now? Once he found Tia and her grandmother, and got back to Liz, they were going to have to do the same. Get out of the city, although how he would do that, without the use of his car, he wasn’t sure. First things first though, drop off the computer nerd, then head south again and find the shop.
They walked past a set of garages, one of which was open. He shone his torch’s light into the rectangular space and snorted. A classic sports car looked back at him. Half a million pounds worth of British engineering just sitting there, completely useless.
They kept on moving, walking in fits and spurts when they had the energy.
Mathew looked up at a terrace of Victorian homes, which they hurried past. “There must be some people in these places, right? They can’t all have left?”
Joe looked up at the same void beyond the glass panes that inhabited every other building they had jogged past. Maybe those that were left in the city were too afraid to turn their lights on? Not wanting to draw attention? It made sense and he didn’t have time to go door to door to find out if it was true or not.
They were in a wider street now, with grander, multi-storey blocks. Along the central strip ran a line of vehicles, most with the doors open. A shadowy four-legged creature had its head inside one of them.
Joe spotted it first, some hundred yards away. He placed his hand across Mathew’s chest, stopping him from protesting vocally, and inviting him to look along the street. Mathew nodded and they started to backtrack, then turned around fully to make haste in the opposite direction.
A boom made them both flinch and duck. Joe spun around first, stopping to make sense of what he just heard. The thing laid dead on the ground. Around it stood two men in silhouette from a streetlight behind them, where more were standing.
Mathew leaned forward to try and better see. “Are they soldiers?”
Joe could tell from how they were holding the weapons, they weren’t. “Not soldiers. We need to—”
One of the men shouted in Joe’s direction, but they were too far to hear what was said. Joe and Mathew started to back up again, picking up speed when the two men with guns began to run towards them.
“Shit!” said Mathew.
Joe shook his head for being stupid enough to take a route which had no nearby side streets. They were next to a high, black iron gate, an entrance to an old but exclusive looking block of flats. He pointed to them. “Quick, over this!”
“I can’t climb that!”
Joe locked his fingers together. “Come on!”
Mathew tried to ignore the oncoming rush of people and placed his sneaker on Joe’s hands, who then lifted him higher, where he grabbed the top railing and scrambled over. Joe jumped up, grabbing the same iron beam, pulling himself to the top and climbed over the spikes.
