“That was shotgun fire,” said Bruce.
Jake grinned and turned to Bruce.
“That’ll be Paddy,” said Jake.
The positivity of the man, as well as the continued evidence of more survivors, gave Bruce an immense feeling of hope. Despite enjoying some of the carnage he was able to dish out, he knew that life was going to become a whole lot more difficult before it got any easier.
If they could find three survivors in a matter of hours, then perhaps there were many more around the country and the world. For the first time he considered how lucky he’d been. This was a case of simply being in the right place at the right time, with the right clothing and the right friends. He turned around to his friends.
“Get ready, we’re surely going into another shit storm,” said Bruce.
The men grabbed their rifles and stretched out their aching limbs.
“Let me just say, you’ve all been good mates, we’ve got this far together,” said Bruce.
None of the men replied, they were in shock to hear such sentimental words from their wise cracking and bad mouthing friend.
“Right, enough of this girly talk, let’s kick some arse!” he said.
Jake took a bend quickly, the tail end of the vehicle sliding on the dirt. The V8’s power kept roaring as he didn’t let up, steering with the gas pedal. The men in the back held on tight just to avoid being thrown out of the bed. A dozen zombies were in front of Paddy’s house, perhaps more inside. Another shot rang out. It came from inside the house.
“Sorry to trouble you, mate, but we could really do with a hand here,” said Jake.
“No problem, lets nail these fuckers,” said Bruce.
Jake slammed the brakes on just thirty yards short of the front door and the wheels ground to a halt. The racket drew the attention of many of the zombies, who turned to look at the group with a blood lusting look.
Christian and Connor began laying down fire with their rifles whilst Bruce and Dylan leapt from the side to join the fight. They really had begun this fight far too close for comfort, Jake not thinking wisely about a plan of attack. The creatures were already stumbling towards them with more pouring from the house.
Bruce and his group opened up on full auto, panicked by the sudden realisation that they’d jumped out of the pan and into the fire. Jake had taken the under lever from his granddaughter and had joined the fight from his open door. Bruce’s magazine, his last, had run out in seconds. He threw the gun down and pulled his poleaxe from the truck.
“Right, who wants some?” said Bruce.
The others’ weapons were all empty before he could even take a few steps away from the truck bed. Bruce went forward as the others grabbed their steel from the vehicle. Holding the poleaxe in a high vertical guard, he swung the weapon down in a perfect diagonal cut to the closest creature’s head. The metal poleaxe hammer smashed the skull in one blow, sending the body hurtling to the ground.
With the weapon head now resting on the ground, Bruce swung the weapon upwards with a back edge cut, the rear spike smashed into his second attacker’s head. The rather large, blunt spike could not penetrate the head but it didn’t matter, the blunt trauma knocked the creature off its feet. Walking up to the creature he hammered the bottom spike through the eye socket of the creature whilst it still lay on its back.
Bruce’s friends had now got into action, hammering away with the big lumps of blunt steel they each had. The four armoured men were fighting in an utter bloodthirsty frenzy. The creatures were dropping all over the place and blood poured out over the ground. These hand-to-hand weapons were exceptional at fighting the slow, unarmed zombies. However, few people ever realise the biggest weakness of using these tools is fatigue.
After just two minutes, the men had killed thirty one zombies with a combination of rifle fire and hand weapons. They were utterly exhausted, each man breathing heavily with sweat dripping from their dirty faces. Jake rushed though the smashed entrance of his sister’s house.
“Paddy! Paddy?” called Jake.
“Jake, wait!” said Bruce.
He couldn’t stop the man rushing into the house with an empty rifle. Bruce followed in after him.
“Dylan, stay here and keep watch!” said Bruce.
Getting to the stairs he found a partly demolished barricade leading to the upper floor. Jake was sat at the top of the stairs with his sister. Her shotgun was on the floor and she looked tired and pale.
“Jake? Is she ok?” said Bruce.
Getting closer to the woman he could already see clear signs of blood on her bare forearms. Bruce knew that this could be a very dangerous situation. Nobody wants to off a relative, especially when they’re still living and breathing. At the same time, she could endanger more of the group. Not knowing what else to do, he jumped right in.
“Have you been bitten?” asked Bruce.
“Yes, by one of those foul things,” said Paddy.
Jake shot a fearful look at Bruce, already suspecting what was coming next, but not wanting to accept it. He looked back to his sister.
“You know what this means, Jake,” said Bruce.
“We need to bandage up these wounds Paddy, let’s get you downstairs,” said Jake.
“Jake!” shouted Bruce.
“What!” said Jake.
“What’s all this fuss about? Stop shouting and start making some sense, both of you,” said Paddy.
The two men looked at each other, neither fully agreeing with each other’s hypothesis on the subject.
“Bruce here thinks that you’re going to become one of those creatures because you’ve been bitten,” said Jake.
She looked at her brother in shock. She’d put up a brave fight and had felt such relief to finally see her brother and be saved. All of the comfort she’d just felt was snatched away from her. She looked at Bruce with a long face.
“Is this true?” said Paddy.
“Yes, without a doubt, we’ve seen it too many times to think otherwise,” said Bruce.
“But how can this happen?” said Paddy.
“We really don’t know. Two days ago we were living our normal lives, and within minutes people were being bitten, dying, and getting back up and biting more people,” said Bruce.
“So I will die from this?” said Paddy.
“Yes, you will stop breathing, die, and then come back to life as one of them,” said Bruce.
“We don’t know that for sure!” cried Jake.
“Yes we do. I don’t know why or how, but we know for certain it will happen once you’ve been bitten by one of them,” said Bruce.
“I don’t want to live like that,” said Paddy.
“No, it might not happen!” said Jake.
“You have trusted this man thus far, and he risked his life to save me, so I trust him,” said Paddy.
The woman picked up the double barrelled shotgun that lay beside her and gave it to Jake.
“Please, make sure I never become one of those things,” said Paddy.
“No, no, I can’t do it, I won’t!” screamed Jake.
“Then you would rather a stranger did it for you?” asked Paddy.
Jake looked up at her. The distinguished and tough old man had tears streaming down his face. He was not a coward or a weak hearted man in anyway, far from it, but this was most difficult thing ever in his life. He looked back at Bruce.
“Please, give us a minute,” whispered Jake.
Bruce nodded, and walked out of the room. He went down the stairs and out the front door. His friends were sat about, weary from fighting.
As he came to a halt, a shot rang out, yet another survivor lost.
Bristol, England
It was pitch black and Zack was stood in the middle of the street. All around him was the rubbish and decay that had followed the zombie outbreak. Cars were abandoned, litter blew across the road and the many houses and businesses around him had been burnt or looted. It hadn’t taken long for things to fall apart. None of this mattered though because Zack had a plan and right now a large group of the undead were blocking his route.
As the group reached him he calmly swung his ninja sword, killing a zombie with one swift cut. The edge of the razor sharp blade cut down through the skull and into the torso of the creature. He shouted out with joy as the blade literally cut the thing in half. Blood and gore sprayed over Zack but with no effect, other than to encourage him to strike another zombie in the same way.
Stood next to him were his best friends, each of them armed with an assortment of close quarter combat weapons and each dealing death in any direction the zombies came from. It was like they’d been doing this for years, it was a bloodbath and they were right in the middle of it.
“Holy shit, man! Did you see his arm come off?” laughed Max.
He wielded an evil looking two handed machete that had a series of spikes running down its back edge. He was in his early thirties and wearing a rough but sturdy looking leather jacket. The sound of laughter echoed from the others at the amusement of the situation.
“Come on, let’s take the petrol station,” shouted Tim, the third of the group.
Tim was already losing interest in the swirling melee and wanted something else. Another group of at least a dozen more zombies were heading towards them and Tim rushed forwards, hacking at them before the others could help in time.
“Tim you ass, stay with us!” shouted Zack.
The others stood watching, starting to get just a little annoyed at the idiot Tim who seemed to spend his life trying to lure them into stupid situations just for his own amusement.
“Follow me,” he said as he disappeared through a doorway.
The others were left out in the street with the sight of more zombies heading their way. Either they stood and fought or they followed Tim.
“Come on you noobs, this is a shortcut!” he shouted from a distance.
Max started to move towards the door and without even speaking followed after him. The doorway led into a shop front and then a dark and secluded looking corridor.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this!” said Zack as they moved quickly through the building.
There was no sign of Tim until he started screaming at them from the other side of the building.
“Shit, they’re all over me man, help me!” he screamed.
The other three rushed to him, finding his mutilated corpse on the ground and surrounded by at least a dozen zombies. Before they could turn to find a way out a loud wail from the horde announced they were trapped. Max pulled the door behind them, trying to hold them back but the creatures simply ripped through it and poured inside. There was only one other way out, a window at the side of the room. Zack tried to make his way across so that he could climb through but Tim managed to get in the way, too busy swinging his weapon to notice him.
“Stop wall blocking you noob!” cried Zack.
It was too late though. With no place to go and totally surrounded the three fought as hard and as fast as they could but it wasn’t enough. After one too many bites it was over and one by one they fell. The computer screen faded to black with the familiar message of ‘Game Over’.
Zack slumped back into his chair and sipped from a can of coke. He wore a loose pair of jeans, t-shirt and looked like he was in his mid teens. He certainly didn’t looking anything like his gaming avatar!
“Tim, you’re such a knob. You got us owned again. Next time, if you want to join our game you need to follow orders,” said Zack in a dismissive tone.
Max started laughing, his voice coming over the voice communication software they were using.
He pressed a few keys on his keyboard as he took another swig from the can. Tim answered back, using his keyboard though rather than the voice communication. Zack leaned in closer, reading the small text, laughing as he read it.
“Stop bullshitting man, your cat didn’t step on your keyboard.”
Max continued laughing, his delayed crackling voice coming through the speakers. Almost as suddenly as it had started his laughter stopped, yet Zack could still just about hear his breathing. Listening carefully he was convinced he could hear Max’s television set on.
“Max?” he asked.
“Holy shit, have you seen the news?” said Max, his voice making Zack jump.
“Fuck me, Max, I thought you’d gone,” laughed Zack.
The others two players didn’t seem interested. Either that or they had simply found other more interesting things to do, so he carried on.
“According to this newsflash, the outbreak is getting worse. They think it’s some kind of virus outbreak. They’re saying people are turning on each other, biting and stuff,” he added.
“That, my friends is why we’ve been staying low and gaming the last couple of days,” said Zack. “When these kinds of epidemics start people can get a bit crazy. Just keep your heads down and order in more pizza!”
There was a pause for a short while as the friends considered Max’s news.
“Hang on, biting, like zombies? Weird. Anyway, I’m gonna do some single player for a bit. Work on my tactics, you on later?” said the usually quiet Tim.
“Yeah, I’ll be on later. Tim, you need the practice anyway, mate.”
“What about the news?” asked Max.
“Who cares, it’s probably just the bird flu or some other crap. The best thing if this is a really serious problem is to keep indoors. They said yesterday they thought it was a kind of flu. Stay in, eat pizza and game. Simple,” said Zack.
“Good plan, though…isn’t that always your plan?” asked Max.
“So? Anyway, right now I need a bio break and then hopefully my bloody pizza will arrive. See you all back here in thirty minutes,” answered Zack.
He removed his headset whilst he waited for their responses. The other player confirmed with the exception of the fourth one who had an unpronounceable name, due to all the special characters he’d used.
He left the computer and popped to the bathroom, still thinking about the fourth player. Either he was an insanely good gamer or more likely, he was a ten year old trying to act tough, thought Zack. Based on the last game though, he was almost certainly another noob. He might have felt their superior but Zack was only fifteen himself, though as far as he was concerned he was the best gamer out there and that meant he was the best, period. He washed his hands and then returned to his computer, his hunger now really starting to take hold.