When There's No More room In Hell: A Zombie Novel (16 page)

That reminded Steve, he needed to c
all Marcus and try Claire again. “Yeah, maybe it would be a good thing to have. Do you remember how to use it?”

“Not sure. B
een years since I last even looked at it but if we get it working, I'm sure it'll all come back to me, and Jake is a whiz at the technical stuff. If in doubt, I’ll read the manual.”

Steve nodded with a smile. “Always the case with us men isn’t it, read the instructions as a last resort. I’m gonna see if I can use my phone
. I’ll be outside, Jen, and I’ll let you know if I manage to speak to Marcus.”

Gary looked at Kevin.
“Sorry young man, but the game will have to wait. I'm gonna give the newcomers the guided tour and introduce them to everyone. I'm sure the other children will be happy to have a few new play mates to join them on their endless games of hide and seek about this old building.”

“Other children
? So we’re not the only ones here?” Liam asked

“Not at all,” Gary replied with enthusiasm, “t
here are five others here, three girls and two boys.” He looked at Jennifer and Helen. “Some of the staff managed to bring their families in with them. There are eighteen of us altogether, including my wife, Karen, and she's on cooking duty tonight so you're in for a treat.” He walked ahead of them, humming as he went, with Sarah, Liam and David close behind.

“Will we get to see the animals?” Sarah asked him.

“I don’t see why not. I think it would be good for them to see kids still showing them an interest. Animals aren’t much different from us you know. They still need to know that they're wanted, now and then, and that someone cares.”

Sarah turned to the rest and grinned from ear to ear. She loved animals and the thought of having an entire safari park at he
r fingertips filled her with excitement.

Steve couldn’t get an answer from Marcus. He got the usual overseas dial tone, but there was no answer. He hung up and typed out a lengthy text message, giving him the rough details of where they were and how things looked.

Next, he tried Claire again.

14

Roy was starting to get on her nerves. Claire watched him as he paced about in their bedroom where they had taken to spending most of their time to keep out of sight from the street below.

He had
steadily become more and more anxious and by now he was more or less in a constant state of panic. Since the news had broken, he had refused to believe what was happening. He had stood and argued with the TV and radio, demanding to know how the dead could come back to life and start eating people and what the government was doing about it.

He had always lived his life through a set routine. He went to bed at the same time every night, went to work on the dot every morning. Even his
rare nights out with friends were organized and arranged to the letter. Claire always suspected that he had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Even his wardrobe and sock drawer was neatly arranged accordingly and now, with the world turned on its head, his carefully packaged life had been pulled apart and he was unable to deal with it.

“For fuck sake
, Roy, will you just sit down and relax? I'm the one that should be in a panic. My daughter is out there somewhere and I can’t get in touch with her. I don’t know if she is safe or not, but I'm managing to hold it together.”

“She's with Steve. They said they would be heading for a safe place.” He stopped and turned to her
. “I just feel like we’re trapped here, Claire, and that eventually those things are gonna come crashing through the door.”

Claire rolled her eyes. Sometimes she had to wonder what she saw in him. There had never been any real adventure or
excitement between them. At least with Steve she had never known what was going to happen next. But with Roy, it had been the stability that she had gone for. With someone who was so regimented and set in their ways, there wasn’t much chance of a spanner being thrown into the works.

He was never late and she doubted that many other women would find him at all interesting. Though
, without doubt, he was an attractive man. He was, nevertheless, a dull bore. She didn't even get excited sexually by him. Their bedroom activities consisted of a once a week twenty minute session that left her feeling unfulfilled and wondering why she even bothered.

Now, with the chips on the table, she also discovered that he was the sort to crumble at the first sign of trouble.

“Your van is parked up against the front door, Roy. There's no way they can get past that and I haven’t seen any of them driving cars. Besides, there's only a few of them right now and if need be, we can always get out. Steve may have had a plan to get somewhere safe, but how do I know he got there? He told me not to try and phone him and that he would call when he gets there. That was last night and I haven’t heard anything since.”

She knew that with her
determination and fitness, the things outside wouldn't be able to get her. There was only a few of them staggering about in the street at that moment and nothing had stirred in the area for the past few days. Not since the crazy man had driven his scooter along the road screaming something about being a 'Mobile Restaurant', then set fire to himself before disappearing out of sight.

Claire was a keen ru
nner. She had been since her school days and although she knew full well that she wasn’t the most academic of people, she made up for it with her physical abilities. She had always kept herself in top shape and four years earlier, as well as her running groups she had discovered an all women’s Karate Club in her area. She had never missed a session since, and won competition after competition; something she suspected that Roy resented. She did her best to stroke his ego but there was always the invisible wall that went up whenever she spoke about her achievements to him. Instead of being proud and full of encouragement for her, he either dismissed her interests as a waste of time or changed the subject just as quickly as she had brought it up.

Now she was passed caring about his feelings. In the time of crisis, she was proving to be the Alpha, while Roy became a frantic bag of nerves. She would have to drag his arse through this if he was to survive.

“Right, they said they were headed for the Safari Park, so why don’t we head there too?” She looked up, hoping that the suggestion of a course of action would bring Roy into a calmer state with his mind more focussed.

Roy sat down and sighed
, “Because we don’t know if they actually got there, and if they did, if the place is safe or not. We could be heading into a thousand of those things.”

“Yeah, true. He did say to sit tight for now and he will let us know. God I hope Sarah is okay.”
She leaned forward from the bed and placed her face into her hands, rubbing at her tired eyes with the palms.

Roy placed his arm around her.
“I'm sure she is, Claire. Steve wouldn't take any unnecessary risks. He's a good Dad regardless of his many faults.”

They sat and watched out of the window for a while, neither of them speaking. For the last week
or so they had cried, argued, talked and none of it had gotten them anywhere. Claire had become resigned to the fact that the planet had gone to rat shit and her only concern now, was Sarah.

Her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, then the theme tune to
The Simpsons began to emit from her jeans. They both stared at each other for a second, apprehensively, before she reached into her pocket and pulled out her shocking pink mobile phone and flipped it open. It said ‘Dick Head’ on the screen, her contact name for Steve.

Claire fought back a feeling of
dread and pressed the green button.

“Steve? Thank God, where are you, is Sarah okay?”

She heard his voice at the other end; it sounded distant but the line was clear. “Yeah, she's fine. We all are....”

She stood up
and began to pace the room as he spoke, holding one hand cupped over her unused ear and the phone to the other.

Roy
was sitting on the bed and following her with his eyes, trying to work out what was being said, the feeling of angst building inside him the more he was left in the dark.

Claire looked at him and recognised the familiar look of apprehension in his face. S
he pulled the phone away from her ear and spoke. “It’s Steve. They made it to the Safari Park and they're all safe. There are other people there too.” She placed the phone back to her ear and continued to pace about, nodding, humming and throwing in the occasional ‘yes’ and ‘no’.

Roy assumed that Steve was giving her instructions and explaining what the next plan was and what she needed to do.

“Steve? Steve, are you there, can you hear me?” She looked at the phone then tried to call him back. The line was dead again.

“What's happening then? What did he say?” Roy was eager to hear what he had told her.

“Well, before the line went dead, he was saying that they have a secure wall all around the park and they are living in a mansion with other people. He said that he is gonna come for us within the next few days and once he has it all organised, he will let us know and that we are not to move from here until then.”

Claire was clearly relieved. Sarah was safe and that was all that mattered. She didn't savour the idea of dying herself
, but as long as her daughter was alive then she could deal with anything.

She sat down heavily on the bed
, and before she knew it the tears were flowing uncontrollably. Everything caught up with her, and now that she knew Sarah was out of harm’s way, she could afford to let her guard down for a moment and all the tension and strain was released in a deluge the moment the wall came down.

Two hours later, she awoke on the bed. Roy had tucked her in and left her to sleep. She must've cried herself out and the exhaustion must've been following close behind the tears because she couldn’t remember
stopping crying.

She threw off the bed sheets and walked to the bathroom. She could hear Roy moving about in the room next
-door and it sounded like he was looking for something as he rummaged through cupboards.

“What are you doing
, Roy?”

He was leaning over a large black canvas bag and looked up, surprised to see her. She stood watching him, her eyes squinting in the light that shone through the window
from the rear of the house.

“I'm packing some stuff
love.” He sounded almost cheery. “If we’re gonna be leaving soon, then we need to have some things don’t we? I'm just grabbing what I think we need.”

Claire scratched her head where her hair was standing on end
. “Ah right. Well, I'm gonna see about getting cleaned up. I need to wash, I feel like the floor of a public toilet, so I’ll have a look at how much water we have in the tank now; may as well use it because whether Steve gets here or not, we’ll be leaving soon anyway.”

“How do you mean?” He looked concerned now and Claire could see the panic returning
to his face.

“And you're the one with the degree? Think about it, what are we gonna do? Spend the rest of our lives locked in here? Plus, my daughter is safe and sound and I
want to be with her whether Steve makes it here or not, and I'm not going stinking like the arse end of a tramp.”

She and Roy spent the rest of the day and night
searching through the house, looking for things they would need. It was more to keep themselves occupied than anything else and now that they had a focus, they both felt better about the situation. Even Roy seemed more masculine and less like an empty wetsuit.

They
each packed a bag with clothes and food and a bag for Sarah too. Claire had insisted that she would probably need clean clothes and a few of her personal belongings, such as her diary and photo album as well as her favourite teddy. Now all they had to do was to wait for Steve to call.

15

It was still early morning in Baghdad and the sun wouldn't be up for another couple of hours, but with much of the city ablaze, it seemed more like late evening as the sun was beginning to set. Visibility was good and Marcus decided that the time had come to leave.

During the previous days, reports of other teams from other companies making a break for it had come in. Some had been successful but others had found themselves trapped within the city and in need of help. But help would never arrive.

Marcus and Stu
had opted for a route that would take them through the less built-up outskirts of the city. Though the journey would be longer, there was less chance of running into difficulties and finding themselves trapped like the others, unable to escape.

A city-
wide curfew had been announced, but with the American forces too busy pulling out, there was no one to enforce it. It had been left to the Iraqi security forces and the city had soon crumbled into mayhem as a result.

Orders had
been passed down to the teams that no one was to attempt a break out from the city and that all vehicle keys and weapons were to be handed over to the management staff at each location, so that they could be centralised and redistributed.

Management were in panic. They had finally realised that the teams had the upper hand. They had the vehicles, the weapons and the experience to get out for themselves. After years of the men on the ground being shit on from great heights by the people
who sat behind desks and computers, telling them to ‘put up and shut up’ and to ‘just make it work’, the tables had turned and management soon realised that they would more than likely be left behind and not even considered as the teams bugged out.

The teams themselves scoffed at these orders
to hand over their assets and dismissed them out of hand. Few members of management had the nerve to approach the teams and demand the keys and weapons. Rumours of people being shot in other companies by people holding grudges were already doing the rounds. With panic and confusion reigning and other priorities, no one was likely to care about some desk jockey getting his comeuppance.

“You think Mickey will come for the keys?” Ian asked Stu.

Stu huffed, “He's a fucking dick if he tries and thinks we’re just gonna hand them to him. No one else has and I think Mickey knows that Marcus would just tell him to shit and fall in it.”

They were standing in the parking area
, keeping watch over their vehicles. Over the past week it had occurred to them that if everyone else thinks of escaping, then weapons, ammunition, kit, equipment and even vehicles would be a priority as it had been to Marcus’ team. When it comes to survival and every man for his self, it was prudent to post guards.

Soon, Marcus and the rest of the team arrived and began the final checks and preparations to leave. The tension was thick in the air. They all knew of other teams trying for the same thing and being
swallowed up within the city. He had received the text the day before from Steve informing him that they were at the Safari Park and what the situation was, and now it was their turn to take their chances.

None of them
had been out into the city since the contact that had left three of their men dead, but they had seen and heard enough. Reports flooded the operations room of the virus spread and the hordes of infected that roamed the streets. Any civilian that was able and had the means, had tried to flee the city, but the majority had never gotten far. With the road blocks, unorganized roadways, burning streets and civil unrest, they had been easy prey for the masses of dead and infected in the confusion of a city brought to its knees.

News fo
otage and reports showed the dead and infected staggering through streets around the world and attacking people, but it was still hard to believe; the dead had actually returned to life and now fed on the living.

Gun
fire and explosions could still be heard from within the city as the survivors fought off the dead as well as each other. Militias had taken control of individual districts and as well as fighting the common enemy, the infected and the dead, they also fought each other and the security forces. It was hard to believe that even with all that was going on, loyalty to certain Imams and religious and political views were still strong enough to make them wage war on one another.

Marcus
had decided to take three vehicles with two men in each. The gun turrets would be left unmanned until needed. Marcus had reasoned that most of their trouble would be from stalled traffic and blocked roads rather than armed attack. Ian and Jim would take the lead with Marcus and Sini in the second vehicle, leaving Stu and Yan to bring up the rear.

They loaded up and bega
n the final checks of their personal kit and weapons, making sure that it was all easily accessible and ready to use. Marcus checked that his M4 rifle was ready to fire and that the magazine was firmly attached. Next he checked the pistol on his hip and his spare magazines in his assault vest and in the grab bag at his feet. Every man in the team was doing the same thing.

“All call signs this is Marcus, radio check.”

“That's good to me mate,” Stu answered.

“
Strength five to me,” Ian said.

Marcus clicked the send button again
. “Roger, that's Lima Charlie all round. Lead off when you're ready, Ian.”

“Roger that mate
. That's us mobile.”

They left the car park just as the first rays of sun touched the tops of the buildings. Marcus looked over toward the operations room as they passed and Mickey was stood there watching them.
Marcus expected him to be ranting and raving and trying to stop them, but Mickey just waved and over the radio they heard, “Good luck boys”.

There was nothing to say in reply so Marcus just gave him the thumbs up.

It was obvious that Mickey had been aware of their preparations but he had done nothing to stop them. Marcus doubted that it was due to fear and more to do with him being a decent man. He probably knew that the end was coming and that eventually the International Zone would be overrun and that it would be too late by then to escape. He hadn’t asked any of the teams to hand over their weapons or vehicles and probably had his own plan of escape. Marcus hoped that he would make it as he watched him walk back to his office.

They
headed south through the International Zone and toward the 14
th
July bridge that crossed the river Tigris from the safe area and into the southern part of Baghdad. The plan was that once across, they would head east through the outer edges of the suburbs and pick up the road North toward Ba-qubah and from there, they would continue North along the length of Iraq and toward the Turkish border.

Everyo
ne knew all too well that it would be easier said than done. They had studied every map and aerial photo they could find, checking routes and scrutinising streets and towns. Any information and intelligence about the cities and towns along their intended journey was gathered and a number of alternatives had been discussed and planned should the primary plan go wrong.

One of the alternatives
was to head for Syria. But that would mean travelling through places like Fallujah and Ramadi; cities that were trouble even at the best of times. Now with the world falling apart and the militias in those towns seizing control with no one to stop them, it would be a tough job to get through untouched. On top of that, those places were densely populated and if they didn't receive trouble from the militia, then it was a guarantee that they would from the infected.

The primary choice was the best that they could come up with. After Ba-qubah the only large cities on their route were Kirkuk and Mosul, both easily bypassed as long as the roads were still accessible.

The decision had been made to try and make the entire journey to the border in one day and be in a laying up position close to the crossing point by last light. That would leave time to have a look at the actual border crossing and any obstacles or problems, and to take the necessary action from there.

“There's always a chance that the border could be heavily manned
,” Stu had said during the planning. “With all the shit going on, the Turks may have brought extra troops and armour into the area to stop the flood of refugees and the likes of us too.”

Marcus had agreed.
“That's just a bridge that we will have to burn as we cross it. By the time we get there, it'll be too late to turn back I reckon and we’ll be committed to whatever course of action the enemy and ground dictate.”

Jim looked up
, his eyebrows knitted together. “Enemy? We at war with the Turks now?”

“We are at war with everyone my
friend. It is survival of the fittest,” Sini laughed and slapped him on the back then looked to the rest of the group for approval in his statement.

“Sini is right lads,” Marcus nodded to him,
“anyone who gets in our way, we have to treat them as a threat. Every person out there is gonna want our food, weapons and vehicles and they're not gonna ask nicely if they think they can just take it from us. Plus, I promised my missus I’ll be home for Christmas.”

The group let out a bout of nervous laughter.

As they reached the bridge they began to slow down. The checkpoint was still manned by the American Army, as they knew it would be, and it would take some smooth talking to explain what they were doing and get through. The cover story that the team had agreed upon was that they were tasked with rescuing a bunch of western reporters from the Sheraton Hotel.

If it was any other checkpoint manned by the Iraqi Army, they would
have just barged through, but the Americans had an M1 Abram’s Tank pointed straight at them.

As the lead vehicle approached
, an officer stepped from the other side of the tank and waved them forward. He gestured something to one of his men and the road was made clear for them to continue. The two APC’s that completely blocked the road were manoeuvred just enough to let the team through.

Sini raised an eyebrow at Marcus and as they passed the American guards
; the officer waved and shouted to them, “Stay safe guys and God speed.” Everybody waved in return. The first hurdle was crossed.

“That's the call sign complete.” Stu spoke over the radio informing Marcus that the whole team was through the checkpoint.

They continued across the bridge toward the first junction. The ground was littered with countless corpses that had been picked off by the snipers that flanked the checkpoint. The soldiers had probably taken no chances and had more than likely shot infected and non-infected alike as they had approached the bridge.

Bodies lay sprawled in the morning sun, some on the hard tarmac and others entangled in the chicanes and barbed wire; all had shots to the head.

“Roger that, Stu, okay Ian, hang a left at the second junction.”

They turned
east and headed through the suburbs. A low drifting smog from the numerous fires clung to the ground. Buildings smouldered and crashed cars and dead bodies were everywhere. Some bodies were nothing more than skeletons, others were burned or dismembered, lying in pools of festering and bloated entrails and clotted blood. Debris was all over the road and the drivers had to pick their way through as the commanders in the seat next to them kept an eye open for the infected or any other threat.

Apart
from the bodies and trashed vehicles and buildings, the streets seemed deserted. Packs of dogs scurried between houses and along alleyways feeding off the corpses', and birds swooped in to pick up the bits left behind when the dogs dropped their guard. Swarms of flies were thick in the air and, even from inside the vehicle, Marcus and Sini screwed their faces in disgust at the pungent smell of the bodies that littered the streets.

Marcus watched as they passed a broken down
car. Across the hood lay the body of a man sprawled on his back, his arms and head hanging down to the wheel arch. His rib cage looked like it had been torn open, with dried blood splattered all around him and his rib bones pointing up into the sky. His skin had turned black and green as it lay baking in the hot Spring sun. His hands were gone from the wrists down and a large dog had its snout buried into the wide open skull, smearing its face with blood and gore. A cloud of black bloated flies took to the air as the vehicles passed the corpse, and the dog turned and growled at the men in the trucks as they passed, as though protecting its meal from them.

After cro
ssing another junction, Ian’s vehicle came to a shuddering halt and began to reverse. The rest of the team followed suit and Ian’s voice came through the radio, “Back up, there's a huge crowd in front of us about fifty metres up.”

The team continued to reverse.

“Man the guns but hold fire for now.” Marcus was climbing into the turret as he spoke. “Do they look like infected, Ian?”

“They look it to me
, Marcus, and they're heading for us too. Fuck, there's shit loads of them coming from the side streets too.”

Without time to think, Marcus had to make a decision. Turn back or try and push through? He didn't like the idea of heading back because there was nowhere really for them to go other than back to the I.
Z or into the city and neither option was appealing.