“There!” Paddy said, pointing.
All eyes followed his finger and spotted the little clearing where a few chunks of part of the collapsed east wall of the famed Tower of London had come to rest. The upper half of a person pulled itself over a rock and then tumbled back down into the tall grass, disappearing from sight.
“Seems odd,” Vix muttered. “But I doubt we will ever put together what happened. Best we be on our way. I’d like to make the objective before dark so that we know what we are dealing with.”
“Looks like the fires burned out right around here,” Seamus observed.
Everybody nodded in agreement. The landscape of London had been ravaged by massive fires. Rumor had reached New England years back that some sort of war between various factions vying for control of the dead city had erupted. The cloud of smoke that rose had been visible for miles in every direction. Vix had not really given it a second thought back then. Only, now that she saw it firsthand, it made her sad. So much had been lost, but to see all traces of a famed empire reduced to ash was enough to make her eyes brim with tears.
The group pushed on and it became almost impossible to tell where they were. Signage had long since been destroyed, and with none of the buildings still standing, it was simply a matter of following the banks of the Thames. There was an ominous surrealness as the south side was mostly just suffering the ravages of time. The fire had obviously been contained to the north of the river and so it looked like two different worlds. One all skeletal remains of buildings, and the other, vine and moss covered as Mother Nature reclaimed what was once hers.
“It’s gone!” Vix said, the excitement coming clearly in her voice.
Paddy turned, his eyebrow raised in question. “Correct me if I am wrong,” he turned back towards the direction they were headed and pointed at the looming structure that actually looked surprisingly intact, “but it is right there.”
“No, you booze-addled imp,” Vix said with a dismissive laugh and wave of her hand. “The Eye. That horrid amusement ride that marred London.” Vix pointed across the river at a lump of twisted metal and debris. She actually clapped her hands. “I hated that bloody thing.”
At last, they reached what had once been St. James’s Park. What had once been the park’s lake now looked more like a swamp. The fire had practically destroyed all the greenery, but the new growth was beginning to push through.
“Everybody halt,” Gable whispered. Mike was standing beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other pointing to something out in the bog.
The order rippled through the group and Algernon, Paddy, Seamus, Randi, and Vix came in close when Gable motioned them over.
“Somebody is in there,” Gable whispered, pointing to the low but very thick tangle of dead wood and new growth.
Almost on cue, several figures emerged, all of them dressed in animal skins, holding primitive looking weapons. Most had their faces painted in outlandish and even frightening designs. They fanned out, but it was obvious that there could not be more than fifty of them unless they had some still hidden and in reserve.
“Victoria?” One of the savage looking men stepped forward, lowering his weapon and signaling for the others to do so as well before he took a few more steps closer.
“Do I know you?” Vix asked, shooting daggers from her eyes as Paddy began to chuckle and sing-song the name Victoria. He quickly made a zipping gesture on his lips and assumed a more serious expression.
“I thought you were dead,” the man said with obvious disbelief in his voice.
“I’m sorry, I still do not have any idea who you are,” Vix replied.
“Gary. Gary Mumford?” The man made a showing of putting the wicked but crude looking axe he’d been holding on the ground in front of him and then stepped over it to close the distance a few more steps closer to where Vix had come forward from her group. “We were all at the Audleys Wood Hotel with that git Nigel and his trollop…Claudia.”
Vix cocked her head to regard the man before her. The name had rung a bell, but that had been so many lifetimes ago that it was too fuzzy to be certain. Plus, the man she recalled was more of a bookish sort; certainly not the barbaric visage standing before her now.
“I must look like the worst sort of heathen,” Gary suddenly blurted with a laugh. “You like the get-up? He did a full circle to show off his apparel. “I went for sort of a cross between Mongolian warrior and Viking. You would be surprised at how easy some folks scare off when they think this place is the home to savages.”
“I take it you know this person?” Mike had stepped up beside Vix; he waved his hooked hand in Gary’s direction.
“We survived the early days together,” Vix said wistfully, surprised when what had once been a sharp pain when she recalled her late husband was no more than a distant ache.
“You seem to have arrived with a bit of an army,” Gary said, closing the rest of the distance.
Three of his people came forward as well, but stood just a few feet behind him. Unlike Gary, they still held their weapons, and they eyed the newcomers with open suspicion.
“We are determined to make a stand against—” Vix began, but Gary cut her off.
“Dolph.” A ripple of angry curses could be heard from many of the people lurking close enough to hear the name spoken aloud.
“He is a lunatic,” Vix agreed, hearing the sentiment not only in Gary’s words, but also in the reaction from his people.
“And you would do that here?” one of the women stepped up beside Gary.
Vix gave her a quick once over. The woman had dark hair and under that red and white war paint or whatever it was they had all over their faces and bodies, Vix could detect a hint of perhaps something similar to Chaaya; perhaps Indian or Middle Eastern. She wore a sort of skirt made from animal skins, and her upper body was wrapped in leather strips that left nothing to the imagination. For just a moment, Vix had to wonder how the woman put it on. Did she have somebody hold the end and then she would twirl in circles in order to wrap the leather around her?
Shaking away the distraction, Vix pressed on. “We intend on securing Buckingham Palace.” Another ripple made its way through Gary’s group, and Vix saw something on their faces that made her pause.
“You will be lucky if half of you survive.” Gary’s words were spoken in a whisper.
“Why is that?” Gable asked, taking a spot beside Vix.
“That was Dolph’s parting gift. It seems that he had a massive cart loaded with a bunch of the zoms that were exposed to high amounts of radiation over in France at one of their power plants. Word is that he actually forced a hundred of his captives in there as well. A few months ago, one of the local clans made a try for the place. We never heard or saw them again.”
“And even if you could kill the zeds inside, it is likely that the place is contaminated,” the woman beside Gary said with grave finality.
Vix felt her stomach twist. Once again, her plans involving the taking of Buckingham were doomed to end in failure. Her head dropped, and she didn’t know if she was angry or sad.
“I say we use Dolph’s own idea against him,” Paddy said, suddenly appearing at Vix’s side.
“What do you mean?” Mike asked.
Vix looked up to see that not only had many of Gary’s people come closer now that it seemed clear there would be no skirmish, but also her own rag-tag band had gathered as well. All eyes had shifted to Paddy. He grinned big and motioned for Seamus to come hoist him for all to see…and hear.
“Tell us what you mean,” Gable insisted.
“The noisemakers, you big oaf.”
***
“Dad!” Ronnie screamed as Chad jumped back.
“Run!” he shouted, breaking into a sprint.
The father and daughter ran as fast as they could, neither of them so much as risking a look over their shoulders as they did so. Chad kept just behind his daughter out of instinct and habit. Nothing was going to come from behind and take her down without going through him first.
When they reached the edge of the woods, they both began to slow down just enough so that Chad could speak through the ragged panting that was a sign of how out of shape he had allowed himself to become. He had to make a few attempts before he could actually speak.
“Zombies…hundreds of them,” he managed.
“How?” Ronni asked.
“No idea, but there is a tunnel that goes on for at least a few hundred yards. Probably farther.”
“How could the patrols from the camp miss it?”
“They probably didn’t go far enough into the woods. Plus, it wasn’t like the thing was obvious or had any signs pointing to it.” Chad slowed to a walk and finally risked a look over his shoulder. “Whatever is down there…hell…I don’t know. But I saw a helluva lot of zombies coming.”
“Did I hear a scream?” Ronni stopped at the edge of the path that would take them back to the camp.
“I think so.”
“We need to tell the coordinators here. Security is going to want to know.”
“Agreed,” Chad said with a nod. “Just let me do the talking.”
They walked the rest of the way back in silence. Every so often, each of them would look over their shoulders like they expected to see a zombie horde on their heels at any time. However, there was no sign of a single zombie. Not only that, but they could not even smell the smoke anymore by the time they reached their cabin. Stopping just long enough to deposit their gear inside the door, the two headed to the main lodge.
Chad was not surprised that the chief of security was less than pleased with their having slipped out of the confines of the authorized secure zone, but he was even more upset to discover that there might be a herd of zombies in the area—not to mention the whole thing about some possible underground bunker complex.
“I need you to take me and a team to the location,” the security chief said once Chad had finished giving every detail he could think of.
“You don’t want me to just show you on a map?”
“If that entrance is as well hidden as you say, I don’t want my people out there looking around for something and end up being overwhelmed by a possible herd,” the burly man said as he rose and grabbed his weapons belt and ushered Chad and Ronni towards the door.
Twenty minutes later, with the noonday sun shining brightly overhead, Chad and Ronni were leading a group of the recreation camp’s security personnel through the woods. Along the way, Chad learned that the security chief was a man named Mark Reynolds. The man had been in his final week of Marine Boot Camp when everything went to hell. He and a group of his fellow Marines had managed to stick together for the first several months before they even suffered their first casualty. He was serving his third tour as the security chief for this particular campground. He loved the mountains and was an avid skier.
“Sure as hell didn’t think I would ever have the chance to hit the slopes again during those first years,” Mark said with a good-natured chuckle that seemed very natural for the big man. “Can’t recall too many zee-pocalypse scenarios where folks got to take vacations, ski, and snowboard.”
“I think the movies left that stuff out,” Chad agreed.
“I gotta take your word for it,” Mark said. “Honestly, I wasn’t too into that kinda stuff back in the day. Give me a John Wayne movie or some Eastwood and I was good. I never had any use for horror. It just seemed so stupid. Monsters? No such thing…right?”
When they reached the point where they could smell smoke again, all casual conversation ceased. The rest of the team was made to spread out and told to keep their eyes open and be ready for anything. That last command proved to almost be unnecessary. Just as they reached the crest of a small ridge, the leading edge of what proved to be a relatively small zombie herd (by the current standards at least) was stumbling into view.
“This is different,” Mark said with a curt nod as he released the safety on his crossbow. “Correct me if I am wrong, but these all look relatively fresh.”
“That was what we noticed as well,” Chad agreed.
“You didn’t think that was important enough to share?” the big man grunted as he crouched down and signaled for the rest of the team to halt.
“I…uh…” Chad stammered, but Mark simply gave him a dismissive wave.
“I think we have it from here. If you think you can find your way home with no trouble, why don’t you and your daughter return to the campground?” It wasn’t a request.
Ronni opened her mouth to protest, but Chad gave her a tug and led her away before she could say anything. As it was, he thought they might be in some sort of trouble for having left the grounds. There were a lot of security issues involved. The biggest being that unauthorized movements like what he and his daughter had partaken of was a way for people to get injured and turn inside the walls. That was a big no-no.
They returned to their cabin and waited for the inevitable knock on the door. When it came, they still both jumped, neither realizing that they had gone a few hours without even speaking. Chad had actually drifted off to sleep. It was one of his quirks; if he was extremely stressed, he would often suffer a mild version of narcolepsy. Ronni simply sprawled on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, every once in a while giving her dad a nudge if he began to snore too loudly.