Sudden Death: A Zombie Novel (43 page)

There was a long pregnant pause, all eyes focussed
expectantly on Chuck.

“Yes,” the big man admitted.

“So, go on, tell us who you really are,” Muz demanded.

“I
’m Colour Sergeant Chakamunda Chijioke of the Grenadier Guards, currently attached to the J2 division of the UK’s Joint Task Force.”

“Holy crap,” Car
l gasped.

Everyone else was silent for a m
oment, taking in what the man had just said.

“I’m not understand,” Tom stated then, confused by the long words Chuck had used.

“He’s a soldier,” Amy clarified.

An expressi
on of pure thunder crossed the Polish man’s face then, his skin flushing as red as beetroot, and he sprang to his feet. Amy and Margaret jumped up too, putting themselves directly between the stocky man and Chuck.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Chuck told Tom, while still keeping his handgun trained on Muz’s head.

The two women pressed their hands down on Tom’s shoulders, which were heaving up and down as he sucked in rapid lungs full of air. Eventually though, he slumped back into his seat.

“So, tell those army guys up there who you are and they’ll let us through,” Carl asked.

“No. They won’t. It doesn’t matter who I am. I could be the Secretary of Defence and it wouldn’t make the slightest difference,” Chuck told him, then leaned forward to speak directly into Muz’s ear. “Now drive this back to that tower block.”

Muz could tell from the man’s tone of voice that the gun at his head wasn’t a bluff. He edged the truck gently forward across the grass and back onto the road, turning right, back the way they had come. No
one besides Chuck dared to say a word.

“You might not realise it,”
Chuck stated, his words cutting through the tension. “But I’m just trying to keep you all alive.”

No
one responded. Tom continued to stare unblinkingly at him with open aggression. Chuck felt like he needed to keep talking and justify himself.

“If we had driven through that wall, this truck, armour plated or not, would have been vittled up in seconds until it resembled Swiss cheese and all that remained inside was a pile of bloodied bodies.”

Still no one passed comment.

“You know what?” Chuck said. “Fuck all of you.”

As Corporal Cheeseburger watched the truck retreat, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Looking back, he saw a United Nations soldier in a blue helmet holding out a foam cup filled with steaming tea.

“Cheers,” Cheeseburger said, taking the beverage.

Though he was thankful for the hot brew on this chilly morning, he resented having to acknowledge the presence of the UN soldier. Normally, he and the rest of the Marines here completely ignored the men in blue lids. Bringing cups of tea were all they were good for.

As he sipped at the brew, he looked back out over his section of the road. The police truck had disappeared out of sight along
one of the adjoining side roads and he scanned for any other signs of movement.

Lying here in this fire position was mind numbingly boring and he was counting down the minutes until the end of his stag. He had been lying up on the roof for the best part of the night and it had been easy to imagine, in those dark quiet hours that he could see or hear things crawling around in the street below. Just as he was thinking this, something flicked past his ear and he jumped, spilling his tea.

“What the fuck was that?” he shouted.

“What was what?” the Marine to his right called back, immediately alert.

“Dunno. Something just flew right past my…” Whatever it was flashed by again. “Jesus.”

“Get a grip, Corporal,” the Marine called over, laughing as he did so. “It’s just a soddin’ bat.”

Cheeseburger saw now the tiny winged creature performing acrobatics in air just above where he lay. They had seen plenty of them since they had got here, disturbed from their roosts in the lofts of the houses by the military activity.

“This hole may be riddled with zombies,” the other Marine said, “
but I think it would be really piss poor luck if we had to fight off vampires as well.”

“Hilarious,” Cheeseburger replied, trying to cover up his embarrassment.

Muz drove along the road, avoiding any of the cannibals staggering around in the street in front of them, rather than running them over, as he had on the way here. The last thing he wanted was a sudden jolt to cause that gun of Chuck’s to go off. They passed the twisted remains of the broken horse. Muz failed to see the mucus-drenched cat with a haunted expression on its face sat beside the fallen equine, and winced at the bump, as one of his wheels drove over it, crushing it flat with a sloppy crunch.

Making it back to Salisbury Court, Muz mounted the grass area and parked as close to the entrance of the block as possible.
Chuck lowered his weapon from Muz’s head and walked to the rear door of the Jankel.

Tom, already stood on the lawn, seized the opportunity of the soldier dropping his guard to climb down from the back door and lunged at him. The hefty eastern European managed to get in three rapid solid punches that struck Chuck in the face before he pushed him off and raised the nine millimetre at him.

“Do that a-fucking-gain,” Chuck challenged him, his teeth red with blood.

“Stop it, the pair of you,” Margaret chastised them, daring to stand in the line of Chuck’s aim.

Chuck looked flustered, as everyone else continued to emerge from the vehicle and stand around on either side. He didn’t know where to look, didn’t know who else might attack him next.

“Calm down, Chuck,” Amy told him but the gentle words had little effect on the man who was panting heavily and spitting out blood.

As if the situation were not tense enough at that moment, a gang of five youths emerged from round the corner of the tower. Carrying various assorted weapons and their hoodies and jogging bottoms stained with blood, it was evident they weren’t out taking a casual stroll.

“Who the fuck are you lot?” Chuck demanded, turning his Browning to face them.

“Yo man, you better back it up,” the skinny black kid in the yellow and black bandana told him, full of bravado. “Don’t put dat in my face, bruv.”

“Yeah blood, who you fink you pointing dat shit at,” another of them said, brandishing his length of pipe.

“Where did you come from?” Chuck asked aggressively, keeping his gun trained on them.

The hoodies just looked at one another, pursing their lips, displaying among themselves how unafraid they were by the handgun.

“You fink dis is the first time I’ve had a piece in my face, bruv,” the youth in the bandana said, laughing mockingly.

“We don’t mean you any harm,” Margaret said. “Chuck, put that thing away.”

“Harm us?” the hoodies laughed back. “Try it, blood. See what happens, innit.” They were laughing as raucously as jackals now.

“Yeah, test us, cuz.”

“They’ve got knives,” Amy warned the other nervously.

Growing braver, the hoody in the bandana who, it seemed, was the leader of this gang, walked closer to Chuck. Muz couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The idiot kid was actually trying to intimidate a man who was holding a gun in his face.

“Any of yous been bit by dem messed up dead people?” the black youth asked.

“No, I can assure you we’re all clean,” Amy told him.

“Nice dog,” the gang leader said.

“Thanks,” Amy replied, pulling Digby tight to her side.

“I wouldn’t mind a dog like dat.”

“What about you, bitch? You been bit?” one of the other hoodies carrying a huge butcher’s knife asked Margaret.

“If by that you mean to ask whether I have been bitten, you rude little boy, the answer is no,” Margaret said, refusing to give an inch.

Still making a display of ignoring Chuck’s
weapon, the gang leader squared up to Muz.

“Fucking Fed. What you got for me, bruv?” he demanded.

Out of the corner of his eye, the copper could see that Chuck’s gun had followed the youth and was still pointed at his head, the man’s finger wrapped tight around the trigger. Muz slowly extended his arm out to the big man, gesturing for him to stay calm.

“A lump hammer,” Muz told the kid, bringing his weapon up to rest against his shoulder.

The hoody leaned in closer, eying him and kissing his teeth, before turning to his mates. “Check this. The po-po finks he the man, cuz. You ain’t got no back up now, blood.”

“We’re all just trying to survive,” Amy implored.

The youth in the bandana smiled at her but didn’t reply. Instead, he turned to Jay.

“I know you
, don’t I?” he asked. “You Femi’s little white cousin.”

“Yeah,” Jay responded. “Are you, like, the Graveyard Fam?”

The skinny black youth crossed his arms over his chest and nodded with affected pride.

“We famous, blood,” he said to his mates, causing them to laugh again.

“Really?” Chuck asked with a smirk. He was beginning to take control of himself again and his confidence was growing. “Did you idiots call yourselves that before all this happened or is it something you came up with because you think this is a film or something?”

“Nah, man. We always been called dat,” the gang leader told him.

“Yeah, it’s what dey call ironic, innit?” another of the gang, a tall fat kid, chipped in.

Chuck laughed. “Big word for a little turd.”

“Please don’t wind them up,” Amy begged, painfully aware of how close this was to turning violent. Yes, Chuck had the gun but she knew he would only manage to fire it once or twice before they stabbed him, then who knew how it would turn out.

“Why you hanging wiv a Fed, cuz?” the skinny black kid asked Jay.

“He’s alright for a Fed, cuz,” Jay tried to defend Muz.

“What’s wrong wiv
you? Ain’t no Fed alright, fam,” the gang leader replied.

“Dat’s the bare t
ruth. We should merc him, innit,” another of the gang added.

“Listen to me,” Margaret said. “We’re staying in this block until all this is over and we don’t want any trouble.”

“You got trouble,” the gang leader told her. “This is our block now.”

“Aw, come on, fam. Allow it,” Jay asked him.

“Allow it? Allow it? You tellin’ me allow it?” The youth’s level of aggression was beginning to build again now.

“Nah, boss. I’m just askin’, innit.”

“Askin’? You don’t ask me nothin’, you get me?” The anger in the skinny black kid’s voice acted as a cue for his mates and they readied their weapons in their hands.

“Yeah, boss. Sorry, man,” Jay said, trying his
best to placate the gang leader.

“I’ve had enough of this shit,” Carl suddenly declared, producing the empty assault rifle, which had until that point been slung over his back, hidden from the eyes of the gang. “
May I suggest you all do yourselves a big favour and fuck off?”

The gang leader’s demeanour instantly changed, as Carl actually pressed the muzzle of the rifle against the tip of his nose and he staggered back in shock.

“Whoah, easy, mate,” he said, recovering his composure a little and trying to save face in front of his friends. “Me and my crew, we was just messin’ wiv you. Chill, bruv. We ain’t staying. We heading up to that army line over the fields. We gonna get outa dis shit hole.”

“Believe me, fam, they won’t let you through,” Jay tried to tell them. “We just come from the cordon.”

“We’ll make them let us through, innit,” the black youth said, straightening his bandana with unconscious nervousness while thrusting out his chest.

“Yeah, we ain’t afraid of no army guys,” his big fat friend added. “Bunch of pussies finking dat they bad just ’cos they got guns.”

“An army guy tried to test me one night before all this shit,” another of the arrogant kids said. “When I was out with my girl, he called the bitch a sket. Dropped him with one punch. Bang. Bouncers had to call for an ambulance, innit. Swear down.”

His gang mates looked at him as though they knew he was lying.

“I swear down,” he protested.

“Come on, let’s get outa here,” the leader said. He lurched aggressively at Muz, as though he might be about to throw a punch but then turned and walked away.

“But…” Jay began to say.

“Let them go,” Chuck told him, as the gang put up their hoods and began to scurry off, laughing among themselves.

The big fat youth turned back as he continued to walk away. Making one hand into the shape of a gun, he mimed firing off a couple of rounds at Carl.

“But…” Jay started again.

“Just let them go,” Muz agreed with Chuck.

The group stood and watched the young idiots strut off along Lacey Drive, making sure they were actually leaving the area.

“Let’s get inside,” Margaret then said, hoping the previous animosity among the group had been set aside.