The Undead Day Twenty (26 page)

Seventeen

‘Turn right…’

‘Yep I see it, Reggie.’

‘This is the access lane that runs for approximately six hundred yards to the car park which borders the premises.’

‘Yep. Big sign we just passed says the same thing,’
Howie says into his radio.
‘Layout?’

‘From studying the topography I can see we have open fields on all sides. There are several smaller buildings and what appears to be one very large structure.’

‘That will be a sand school, Mr Howie,’ Charlie calls forward.

‘A what?’ Howie asks.

‘Sand school.’

‘What the fuck is a sand school?’

‘A school for sand,’ Blowers says.

‘Really?’ Howie asks.

‘No it’s an area used for schooling horses…the surface is sand,’ Charlie says.

‘Ah…why isn’t it called a horse school then?’

‘I don’t know, Mr Howie.’

‘Should be called a horse school…
Reggie, why isn’t it called a horse school?’

‘I beg your pardon? Oh I see. I gather Charlie informed you the large structure is a sand school and you are now questioning the name of it. Is that correct?’

‘Should be called a horse school.’

‘Indeed. I am sure it should.’

‘I’m hot.’

‘I see. Well. Thank-you for informing me of that.’

‘Hot as fuck.’

‘Indeed. Again thank you, Mr Howie.’

‘Stupid name for a school. Should be a horse school…we’re here, looks empty. Everyone out.’

The Saxon shuffle commences. Dave and Mo drop out. The first to gain the ground. They turn with rifles raised as they move out and create space for the others. The rest shuffle bums down the bench seats to reach the back doors and drop out. Meredith bounds out to land and sprint with excitement at seeing Paula coming from Roy’s van. She hasn’t seen Paula for at least ten minutes and needs to show that by whining, snaking and licking while her tail swishes and sways. Paula fusses her head. Calling her a good girl before Meredith decides the time for re-connecting is now over and she must run about sniffing things and have a piddle. Everyone watches the dog for reaction. Rifles up and voices hushed as they move quietly away from the vehicles with boots crunching over the unmade surface of the big car park.

Blowers walks out to the middle turning a full 360 to see the view. No vehicles in the car park. The doors and windows to the buildings look closed and secure. No noises. No signs of infected. He spots rabbits in the fields bordering the car park, which re-assure him that nothing has gone through recently and scared them off. He takes in the big structure of the sand school. The size of an airplane hangar with two huge sliding doors and a curved old stained corrugated iron roof. He spots normal sized doors and signs that welcome visitors to the café, the reception and urging them to shop in the outlets.

His team turn to view but keep a close eye on him. Waiting for instruction. Blowers signals to Blinky first,
pointing at his own eyes then to the lane they just came up,
watch that lane.
Blinky nods and is off, jogging lightly. She drops to one knee and locks on with her rifle up and ready. To Mo and Charlie,
you two, watch those buildings and the fields beyond. That is your side.
To Cookey and Nick,
the sand school and the sides.
He drops his head to talk quietly into his radio.

‘Reggie, it’s Blowers. You got cameras on?’

‘Indeed I have.’

‘Roger that. Big area to cover. Watch all four please.’

‘Yes, yes of course, Simon.’

‘Overwatch on.’

Blowers glances up to see Roy in position on top of his van. He looks round to Meredith, double-checking for signs of aggression from the dog.

Two sides have open ground. One side is blocked by the sand school building but the last side where all the smaller buildings are give him concern. Too many places they can come from. Lots of little lanes and walkways. Lots of buildings, sheds and stables.

‘Watch that side,’ he whispers to Maddox, ‘too many rat runs…’ Blowers looks up to Roy and waves a flat hand in the same direction, showing the bowman his concerns. Roy nods once and turns to hold that side in the centre of his view. When Blowers looks again he spots Howie, Clarence and Dave heading towards the smaller structures. Rifles up. Feet placed carefully. Paula and Marcy right behind them. He holds his team in the middle while the elders clear the rat runs.

The tension mounts. The continual life and death pressure to watch, to scan, to stay alert and use every sense at your disposal.

Maddox wipes his forehead then dries his hand on the back of his trousers. He looks over to Blinky then over to the others.

‘Eyes back on your side, Maddox’ Blowers whispers.

‘Stinks of death through here,’
Howie’s whispered voice comes through the radio. Eyes sharpen. Mouths open to hear better. Senses buzz with awareness. Blowers feels his heart rate raise slightly as his body, now experienced in such things, prepares to dump adrenalin in case of a fight. His hard eyes snatch glimpses from Cookey and Nick to Mo and Charlie then round to Blinky. To the van. To Roy. To Maddox. To Paula and Marcy just going out of view following the elders. He strains to hear, to listen for any such sound that will give awareness to something going wrong.

Minutes pass. Long minutes of heightened senses. Sweat drips. They breathe the hot air and wait.

‘Horses,’
Howie’s voice again. Sad and angry at the same time.
‘Left in the stables…’

Blowers closes his eyes for a split second at the concept of the suffering that must have taken place. Pure anger follows a second after. Hatred for his kind that worried only about themselves and gave no care for anything else. That manifests to a pinpoint focus of something more than hatred for the infection. They caused it. They made this happen. A second after that and the professional soldier returns with hard eyes staring out to do the job at hand.

‘You okay?’ Cookey mutters across the car park to Charlie.

Charlie doesn’t say anything but stares ahead to her side. Her own head fills with the too unwelcome images of horses trapped in stables without water or food. She knows it’s unusual to put horses in stables this time of year. Most are out in warmer weather and they would have stood a chance at survival. Horses left in stables were most likely sick, injured or in foal. Which just makes it even worse.

Mo reaches out to her. Just a touch of a hand on her arm with a fleeting act of re-assurance that signifies the communal respect and decency. Charlie likes horses. Mr Howie just said some horses are dead, therefore the manifestation of the pity and grief they feel is directed to Charlie.

‘You okay?’

Blowers turns in surprise at hearing Blinky using the radio. Her tone soft and worried for her best mate.

‘Yes,’
Charlie transmits back.

The elders come back. Grim faced with barely concealed fury showing. Rifles lowered. Only Dave looks the same as ever and in that they all see his coldness of life and that nothing touches him save his love for the boss.

‘How many?’ Charlie asks, her polite tone so eerie in the otherwise silent air.

‘Too many,’ Paula says, dropping her eyes as Marcy strides across the car park towards the Saxon with tears streaming down her cheeks.

‘Couple looked like they bust out,’ Clarence’s deep voice only adds gravitas to the emotion of the moment. ‘That’s something I suppose…’ he adds darkly.

‘Let’s get what we need and get out,’ Howie says, ‘Nick, you got a smoke mate? Mo? You getting anything?’

‘Nothing, Mr Howie.’

‘Meredith seems fine,’ Blowers calls out.

‘Okay, Charlie, any idea which building we need?’

‘That one, Mr Howie,’ Charlie says, her voice still clipped and raw as she points to a central structure. Blowers looks at the building and notices the difference. That one has bars on the windows, the door looks thicker, more solid and there is an alarm box on the wall. He thinks back to Salisbury when Dave told them which one the armoury building was. It seems so long ago now. Like months, years even.

‘Mo, you fancy backing the Saxon up. We’ll rip the door off.’

‘On it, Mr Howie’ Mo says. He goes to turn then stops and again reaches out to touch Charlie’s arm again, ‘you’s okay yeah?’

‘I’m fine, thank you, Mo.’

‘Blowers, Maddox…’ Howie calls out, taking a smoke from Nick. ‘See if you can get into that big building.’

‘What for?’

‘MR HOWIE DOES NOT NEED TO EXPLAIN HIS ORDERS,’ Dave roars, striding across the car park at Maddox. ‘MR HOWIE GIVES ORDERS. YOU FOLLOW THE ORDERS…ARE WE CLEAR?’ The voice is huge. Enormous. A drill sergeants depth and volume roaring as the small man stops nose to nose with Maddox. ‘DO WE HAVE A PROBLEM, MR DOKU?’

Maddox tries staring him down but staring Dave down is like trying to take an arm from Meredith. There is only one outcome and that is pain. Lots of pain. Maddox sees it. He sees the complete lack of emotion and the void in Dave’s eyes where even the hardest men would have a flicker of something. He blinks and looks away, showing submission from a simple instinct telling him this man will kill him.

‘No…’

‘NO, DAVE,’ Dave roars, taking a step forward that makes Maddox take a step back.

‘No, Dave,’ Maddox says, louder this time, humiliation showing in his face.

‘Someone coming out,’ Nick cuts in.

Blowers spins from the enjoyable spectacle of watching Maddox being balled out to see the wooden side door of the hangar now open with a man standing halfway across the threshold. He’s big too. Six four at least with wide shoulders and a fleshy strip of fat gut shows between his t shirt and jeans. Days of growth on his jaw. His hair wild and greasy. He lifts a thick arm as though to offer greeting while squinting at the sunlight hurting his eyes.

‘Thank God,’ the man says, the relief evident as he comes out further from the doorway. He shows his hands are empty as he walks slowly towards them. ‘Been here since it started…’

‘You’ve been here for twenty days?’ Paula asks.

‘Yeah…s’mine…I own it…I’m Frank,’ he says, twitching his head to the hangar behind him. ‘What’s happening then? Government back are they?’ Frank walks towards them. Comfortable in his environment and relieved at the sight of what he perceives are uniformed armed personnel in army trucks. He shields his eyes from the sun showing a meaty forearm smeared with dirt.

‘How many of you in there?’ Howie asks in such a tone it makes Marcy drop from the Saxon to walk quickly towards him.

Frank spots Marcy with a flicker of appreciation at the sight of her showing in his eyes. A wet tongue pokes out to lick his lips as he clears his throat and makes an effort to suck his gut in. ‘We’ve got…’

‘What the fuck was that?’ Howie asks, staring at the man.

‘Howie,’ Marcy says, speeding up at hearing the dangerous low edge to his voice.

‘What?’ Frank asks, still flicking his eyes to Marcy’s chest.

‘Stop it.’

‘Stop what?’ Frank asks, unable to compute or understand what he’s being asked to stop as he smiles and winks at Marcy.

‘Fuck me. Stop it. Stop fucking looking at her…’ Howie snaps.

‘Eh?’ Frank asks, blinking hard a few times before offering a knowing smile. ‘Sorry, she yours is she?’

‘What the fuck?’ Howie says, stunned at the response.

‘Yeah so you the army right? Who’s in charge? That you is it? We got people inside. Food ran out a few days ago but we got a foal in but that’s almost gone now and…’

‘Do what?’ Howie asks, taking a step close to the man despite Marcy’s hand on his arm.

‘So what’s happening? Where you putting everyone? My lot want to stay here but we’ll need supplies, beds and…of course I don’t mind using my business but there’ll have to be compensation cos…’

‘You did what with a foal?’ Howie asks.

‘Got one in didn’t we. Food ran out so…well they’re tender and…’

‘You ate it?’ Howie asks, stunned again.

‘Yeah,’ Frank scoffs, ‘I just said that. Food ran out…Christ, mate, you in charge are you? Ran out of officers did they? What are you, like a sergeant or something?’

‘You ate a foal?’

‘Yes. We ate a foal,’ Frank says, opening his hands to emphasise his point.

‘A baby horse?’

‘Listen, mate. You got an officer I can talk with?’

‘No. What about…I mean…okay,’ Howie says, exhaling noisily as he struggles to understand what his brain is telling him. ‘Okay, er…have you seen any infected here?’

‘What’s that? The things? Nah they stayed in the town I think. We been alright but…’

‘Stop,’ Howie says, holding a hand out. ‘They haven’t come here? Is that right?’

‘I just…’

‘And you ate a baby horse? Is that right?’

‘Listen mate…’

‘And you let the other horses die in the stables for what reason now?’