The Common Cold (Book 1): A Zombie Chronicle Page 5

  “I’d pay good money to see the content of the emails he’s sending,” Rob said, watching the retreating form.

  “I wouldn’t even want to begin to imagine,” Daniel replied.

  Once Mike had disappeared around the far corner, Daniel retrieved his desk leg and Rob locked up this time, ensuring no-one would enter or leave the office again. Together they walked back down the stairs, exhausted.

  On returning to the building’s foyer, they re-applied the aftershave spray, doing each other’s backs and legs. It was important that no surface could possibly emit pure human odours.

  “This bottle is pretty much empty,” Rob said, putting what was left back in the bag, which he slung over his shoulder. “Have you any idea how much this stuff costs?”

  “If that’s your biggest worry today, mate, I’d be grateful,” Daniel replied, amused by Rob’s skewed priorities.

  Ready to face the street, they walked to the main entrance and looked out.

  “Remember, make all your movement as smooth as possible, and nothing sudden,” Rob said, stating the obvious, using conversation of any kind to buoy up his courage before they committed themselves. The image of the couple being brought down by the pack, as well as their more recent escape from Mike, was still vivid in their minds. Who knew the salesman could move that fast? He’d never shown evidence of athleticism in life. Ironic really, to be fitter in death than in life.

  Breathing deeply, summoning all their willpower, Rob and Daniel stepped out into the street. Looking straight ahead, trying to mimic the awkward movements of those around them, they proceeded down the road. It was relatively empty, a few people loitering to their left, and only one, a skinny woman, between them and Cannon Street. They reached the end of Queen Street, and had just turned the corner, when they walked slap into an ambling crowd of Infected, who were audience to a larger, denser press, intent on something in their midst. Neither man wanted to contemplate what had attracted the others to this spot.

  In spite of their appearance, none of these creatures was paying them more than cursory attention. They might not pick up many girls with this much aftershave on, but at least it had the same effect on zombies. For that, they were grateful.

  Along the entire length of Cannon Street were abandoned cars, dead bodies liberally strewn everywhere, some partially eaten, all adding to the scene of horror. Some of the vehicles had rolled onto their sides, blocking the street. A few had caught fire as fuel tanks had been ruptured, black streamers of cloud rising into the clear morning sky. The scene was reminiscent of Beirut in the seventies; a no-go area, hostility everywhere. In some of the cars were passengers and drivers. All had turned; some of the drivers, especially in the taxi cabs, were make-believe driving, much like Mike’s attempts at work. Some memories of a former existence clearly remained in these monsters, ingrained as they were, in the people who had earned a living at it.

  Ambling past the crowd, keeping to the less populated areas of the road, they had made it most of the way to the station when it happened.

  Standing on the pavement at the entrance of Dowgate Hill as it intersected with Cannon Street, they heard it before they saw it; a black BMW seven series, revving at its max, came barrelling down Cannon Street from the east. As it progressed, bodies flew off the bonnet, arms and legs flailing, spewing aside like snow from a snow plough’s blade. As it neared, they could see the driver, a middle-aged, heavyset man, his face contorted with terror, frantically trying to maintain control of the car, occasionally mounting the pavement to avoid colliding with other vehicles. He continued down the road, leaving a trail of carnage in his wake, heading straight towards Daniel and Rob. At the last moment, the duo leapt sideways. The driver continued on his way, but was brought to a standstill by the sheer density of the crowd Rob and Daniel had just circumnavigated.

  The panicked driver could be seen thrashing desperately around the interior of the car, trying to prevent entry of the Infected. Several gunshots were heard, two of the attackers fell, lifeless once more. The swarm of Infected required more than the force of bullets a single gun could deliver, and it was only moments before the poor bastard was overwhelmed, screams of fear and pain reverberating from the car, an unholy sense of satisfaction passing through the milling crowd that could even be detected by the only two healthy people alive on the street.

  Diving out of the way of the car had caused Rob and Daniel to come to the attention of some of them. In spite of the mayhem all around, some of the zombies had noticed their evasive action, and were approaching them as they lay on the ground. Rather than experiment with the fact that the aftershave may or may not still be working, they leapt to their feet and ran at full pelt towards the station. Behind them came a strange keening, not dissimilar to a pack of hunting dogs in full tongue.

  As Rob and Daniel entered the concourse, they saw a half closed metal shutter over the entrance to Boots the Chemist, directly in front of them. With what would, from a third party perspective, look like perfect examples of a slide to home base, they slid under the shutter. A solid stack of product halted their progress abruptly, showering them in plastic bottles and packages. Righting themselves quickly, together they yanked the shutter all the way down. Three of pursuers slammed violently against the barrier, unable to stop in time as they chased down their quarry, who, for the moment at least, seemed to be safe.

  The shop was empty of people, well, almost. Two policemen were slumped on the floor, propped up against the soft-drink and sandwich counter. They looked bad; both had what appeared to be bite marks on their hands, and one had a chunk taken out of his left cheek. They were certainly on the turn, their complexions pale, rings under their eyes, skin drawing back outlining the bone around their eye sockets. Daniel cautiously approached and checked them over, the officers barely acknowledging his presence. Both were armed, with a holstered pistol and rifle across their chests. They were those modern plastic guns, Heckler and Koch, if Daniel’s memory served him correctly.

  Rob, checking the shutter wasn’t going to be opened easily from the outside, came over to look more closely at their wounds.

  “They’re turning. Have you tried to talk to them?”

  “Not yet,” Daniel replied, “I’ve been looking at their wounds. They seem to have been attacked by those things out there.”

  “Can I suggest you don’t get all medical on them. They’re going, and soon they’ll be a danger to us.”

  “Yeah, I know. It just seems so brutal.”

  “Danny, suck it up, bud. We’re on Shit Alley, about to embark on a paddle-less journey up Shit Creek. Help me take their guns from them, they don’t need them anymore.” Rob was matter of fact about their predicament and the things they would have to do to survive; he was coming to terms with his new environment faster than Daniel. Perhaps it was the American heritage; the preponderance of guns and conspiracy theories in recent years, that made the transition easier for him to accept, or at least come to terms with.

  Between them, they took the pistols and rifles from the officers, who offered no resistance. They now had a couple of spare magazines of ammunition each, so, with this firepower, they were now loaded for bear, according to Rob. With a little tuition, Daniel felt more at home with his new weaponry. He’d used shotguns at his public school, and had been a marksman during his time in the Combined Cadet Forces on both Lee Enfield bolt-action and Martini action rifles. Anyway, it seemed his wish had come true; he had his fucking big guns.

  Chapter 6

  Stand By Me

  The Infected pursuing them had given up banging on the steel shutter, losing interest in their erstwhile prey. Unfortunately, they also chose to loiter aimlessly outside the entrance, just like a bunch of feckless teenagers hanging around the local off-licence.

  “So, looks like we’re here for a little while now,” Rob said, peering through the slits of their defence. Looking at the policemen on the floor, he continued. “We need either to end it for these guys, or wait until t
hey turn into whatever these things are, and then do it.”

  “I’m in no hurry to off a couple of cops; I’d rather wait until they turn, I reckon it will be pretty obvious when that happens.”

  “Glad you said that. I don’t really want to add actual murder to our list of achievements for today.”

  Daniel looked around the shop and saw the perfume counter. Of course, he thought, I’d better let Janet know about our fragrance trick. Pulling out his phone and checking the battery level, he saw it was already fifty per cent used up. God, these old iPhone batteries sucked; they used battery power like it was going out of fashion. He tapped in Janet’s number and it began to connect. It was ringing, great.

  “Hi,” Janet spoke, her voice a whisper.

  “Hi, babe. Are you still in the library?”

  “Yes, that bloody monster won’t go away from the door.” She sounded stressed, more so than before. “I’m not sure if we’ll ever get away from here.”

  “Well, Rob and I have come up with a way to make them less interested in us. Have you got any perfume on you?”

  “What? Yes, in my handbag. Why?”

  “Which one is it?”

  “Poison.”

  “Good, I’ve never really liked that one. It’s too strong.”

  “I like it,” she replied defensively.

  “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. The point is, it’s strong and it should work.”

  “You’re talking in riddles,” she interrupted, irritably. “Get to the point.”

  “Okay, don’t be so touchy,” Daniel replied, trying to smooth the frayed edges a little. “Rob and I sprayed ourselves all over with his aftershave. It appears to have worked, as the zombies didn’t show any interest in us. We think it’s the live human smell that attracts them, especially if we’re frightened. We got most of the way down a main road here, without them so much as looking at us. Spray yourselves, and see if that creature loses interest.”

  “What do you mean, almost?” Janet was astute, and always knew when Daniel was holding something back. She could sniff out a lie or omission from two hundred paces.

  “Sorry?”

  “You said you almost got to the end of a road without them showing any interest?”

  “Nothing, don’t worry. We’re holed up in a chemist right now, on Cannon Street Station. We’re okay,” he said, emphasising the last word. “We’ve got guns as well.”

  “Guns! What do you mean you’ve got guns? Have you gone completely mad?” she hissed. “Where did you get them? What do you know about guns?” The questions were coming thick and fast; they didn’t have time for this.

  “First of all, we didn’t commit a crime to get them. Secondly, both Rob and I can use guns. I think you’re worrying about the wrong things, right now. Calm down, please, or you’ll attract the attention of that thing outside your door.”

  She sighed, exasperated, but realised he was right. Her stress levels were through the roof. Now wasn’t the time to discuss such irrelevancies. “Oh, for God’s sake, this is all just going from bad to worse. If you’ve got guns, can you come and get us then? We’ll stay put in here,” she replied, resignedly.

  “That might be the right thing to do. Are there any more of those things in the library?”

  “Not that I saw, although I did see a children’s group when I arrived. I reckon they must have run off by now. Can’t think they’d stay around with the weirdo out there.”

  Daniel thought for a moment. He hoped there was just the one zombie in the library. If they remained quiet and out of sight, they’d be safe. These things didn’t appear to actively hunt, not that he’d seen anyway.

  “Good, whatever you hear or see out outside the room you’re in, don’t go out and try to play heroes. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t say how long it will take to come and get you, we don’t know what’s between here and Eltham. We’ll just do our best to be as quick as possible. If you stay in one place, then you need to stay out of sight. Okay?”

  “I’m sure we can do that. I’ll try the perfume trick, see if it works.” She rummaged through her bag, “good, it’s almost full.”

  “Brilliant. Listen, my battery is running low, so perhaps we should text for now, keep my battery going a little longer. And yours.”

  “Sure,” she sounded disappointed.

  “Maybe I can find a charger in this store, but for now…”

  “Alright. I love you,” she said, making no effort to hang up.

  “I love you, too. I’ve got to go now. Bye.” In spite of his desire to keep the connection going, he pressed the disconnect button, and the line was cut. Now he felt down, lost. He was very glad his friend was with him; it would go a long way towards making this situation more bearable, endurable, even possible. Right now all he wanted to do was scream, make a noise, anything to rail against an unfair world. If only he’d not gone into the office this morning, taken the day off sick instead, then maybe he and Janet would be together, facing this as one. But then his friend would be facing this situation on his own as well. There was no right side for the coin to land on.

  He looked up. This was quite a big store, maybe they did have a charger.

  “Rob, can you keep an eye on these two? I need to see if they sell a suitable charger for my phone.”

  “Yeah, sure. While you’re at it, they do sell rucksacks. Grab a couple and load them with aftershave, water and food. These sandwiches will do just fine,” he said pointing at the shelf stacked with fresh produce. Rob was taking charge; he was clearly in his element.

  Daniel hurried over to the electronics counter. Walking around to the staff side, he nearly tripped over a young sales assistant, lying on the floor, clearly dead, blood covering her white coat. Her throat had been ripped out. Even if she could have come back to life, and that didn’t look likely in this case, there would be no support for her head. The blood and gore all over the floor, its coppery smell making its way to his nostrils, made him retch. He vomited, his lamb brains from breakfast coming back to join the sticky mess. After all they had seen this morning, her young, fresh face, eyes open, fearful in death, resting on top of the gory mess that had been her throat, had finally caught him out. His surprise had been complete; the two policemen lying back there near the entrance had allowed him the false assumption that this shop had, somehow, been missed by the chaos outside.

  Daniel delved through the cupboards and, finding what he was looking for, grabbed two white boxes containing chargers, one of them solar powered. With a fleeting glance back at the unfortunate girl, he walked unsteadily over to the rucksacks and picked two from the stand. Plugging his phone into a spare electrical socket, he hoped there would be enough time to recharge it adequately. Then he opened the two bags and began to fill them with supplies. Thinking straight once more, he also put medical supplies into the outer pockets of each bag. Now they were ready.

  “Nice job, man,” Rob said when he saw the bags Daniel had dropped at his feet. “What about morphine and antibiotics?”

  “Do you know how to administer them?” Daniel asked, doubting whether either was capable of delivering anything other than a death, high on pain killer.

  “Well, they might still be useful. We may meet a doctor on our travels. Better to have them, and not need them…”

  “Point taken.” Daniel said, and stepped around the prescriptions counter, carefully this time. He hadn’t told Rob of his gruesome discovery, why add to his misery? Feeling a frisson of guilt for being back in the depths of the dispensary, he wondered where to start. Fridge, they’d be refrigerated, probably. There it was, in the corner; the padlock had been smashed. They were too late, he thought.

  Most of the fridge’s contents were smashed or missing, but he managed to find a few useful phials, which he put in a cold bag purloined from a shelf out in the shop proper. Along with syringes and needles, he split them between both back packs.

  “Right, which scent do you want, Rob? I think I’ll stick with Fahren
heit for now.” Daniel asked, eager to get going.

  “Me, too. I think mixing smells will make me want to kill myself, let alone the bloody zombies out there.”

  The two picked out several bottles of aftershave; it was an unsaid rule that neither picked up a perfume. Daniel considered himself appropriately in touch with his ‘feminine side’, but still felt that it would just be wrong at so many levels.

  Having re-applied the aftershave, Daniel went back to the shutter and peered out. Two of the trains had clearly failed to stop in time, and had smashed into the buffers, leaving crumpled carriages concertinaed, looking like a petulant child had smashed its train set. Bodies were lying all over the platforms, a few moving awkwardly across the ground, leaving smeared trails of blood, looking stark on the off-white concrete and granite flooring.

  “There aren’t many of them on two feet out there. Those from our chase seem to have wandered off, just a few getting off the trains.” He peered around a little more, and saw a possible opening they could use at the far side of the concourse, near the higher numbered platforms. “It seems clear over there, near platform six.”

  Rob had joined him at the shutter, and saw what he meant. “You could be right,” he agreed. They were both eager to get out of the shop, and on the road as soon as possible. That’s why they missed the movement from behind. Rob was suddenly pulled backwards, and with a shout of surprise, landed on his back, one of the policemen under him. His back pack had saved him, he had been trying out the weight, making sure movement was easy. Daniel whipped around in surprise, and drew the pistol tucked in his trousers at the base of his back. Fumbling, he managed to aim the gun at the officer.

  “I can’t get a shot, you’re in the way! Roll off to a side, now!” he screamed at Rob, desperate to get this fucker before he got one of them. Glancing sideways, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. The other officer was lunging at him. Too quick for the dead officer, Daniel stepped backwards, bringing the lumbering man in front of the pistol. A shot rang out and the poor bastard’s head exploded, leaving a red mist hanging in the air and brain matter flying across the shop, spraying the two struggling on the floor.