Road to London: City of the Dead

VIII
July 11th

Israel was bored. If the word bored can even do justice to the sensation of utter numbness that filled his mind, body and soul. The pins and needles in his feet had stopped being an annoyance days ago and now he couldn’t even remember what it felt like not to have pins and needles. His nails were almost completely gone from where he had chewed and then filed them repetitively out of pure boredom.

Latiwa prodded his leg with her foot. She was asking for attention which was massively out of character for her so he ignored the plea. She prodded again, and again he ignored it, choosing instead to stare into empty space. When he saw the foot come at him for the third time out of the corner of his eye he slapped it away hard.

With his peripheral vision he could see that she had a pained expression on her face but he ignored this as well. When she came to her senses and realised what a whiny little bitch she was being she would hate herself for it later. But for now she stood up with a “hmph!” that attracted almost everyone in the hall’s attention as the room was as silent as Israel.

It was nearly eight o'clock and the sun was going down so it was too late to go foraging for supplies or search for survivors or bury bodies down in the town. In the month or so since this whole business had started he had spent most of his days working reluctantly yet gratefully under Conrad’s instruction establishing something that only just resembled an infrastructure at St. James’.

A number of unforeseen problems had arisen that meant that the students could not return to their previous dorms. These included the fact that a year nine girl had been mauled by a starving Alsatian while searching houses and had died from infection. There was also the issue of the local state school just outside the far side of Carmyu; ‘Hilltree Sports College’ who had gathered much like themselves but also claimed parts of the town for themselves and had already started a number of fist fights, some of which had resulted in breaks and wounds that Conrad feared may turn septic without treatment.

It was then that Israel had suggested raiding the town pharmacy, but this too had ended in disappointment when Conrad had intuitively decided to confiscate all of the morphine and amphetamines that were Israel’s original target in the first place. So for now he had to make do with the quickly diminishing supplies of weed that he had looted from his previous dealer’s house two days after the Deaths.

He was pretty stoned at the moment, after bunning about four packed zoots with Latiwa on the roof of the hall earlier. It was wearing off now though, which was making him irritable and his head-ache from yesterday’s scrap was returning. He was about to rest his head against the wall and have a kip but the television screen zapping into focus roused him.

When the broadcasts had first begun Israel had been sceptical of the weedy looking kid and was determined not to be sucked into this. But (just as his friend Bill had suckered him into Eastenders) he had found himself a conformist, flocking to the T.V at ten every night to hear what Jamie had to say.

“Again,” Jamie began. His face showed a gloomy expression but Israel suspected that this was forced and the boy was thoroughly enjoying his time in the spotlight. “We regret to inform you that we have had no success in further investigating the cause of the Deaths, or any potential cure.” There were no groans from the students. No change in mood or atmosphere for this had been the message for the past two weeks.

The only thing that had been established was that it appeared the Death had taken place as the sun had risen across England, which had been deduced by reports that communications with Wales and Cornwall had failed before the Death reached London, but not the other way around. This was also supported by the fact that the Death had taken approximately twenty minutes to reach the East coast, which is the difference between the
Sun rising at Land’s End and at the mouth of the Thames.

Israel didn’t listen to the rest of the broadcast. He reckoned everyone else hadn’t either. They didn’t watch it for the news; they watched it because it reminded them of turning the television every week to watch the new episode of the Inbetweeners or Top Gear. They needed this.

It was because he had tuned out that he noticed Eleanor Turnpike push open the doors to the hall and sprint through the mass of sleeping bags to reach Conrad and Katrina, who were deep in hushed talk. After a few seconds Israel noticed a look of severe shock appear on the boy’s face, which was replaced by intent seriousness. Intrigued, Israel rose and made his way over to the head boy who was walking towards the door with a friend who Israel knew from history; James.

Nathan was standing by the exit next to Svet, who was watching the broadcast like a zombie. Israel signalled for him to follow and the two caught up with Conrad quickly. When they were out of earshot from the rest of the students, Israel asked what was going on. “Apparently,” said Conrad, who looked hesitantly at the girl who had brought him the news, “Ellie says she heard noises coming from the English block.”
“You mean the rooms where we...” he trailed off as Conrad nodded.
“There’s probably a fox or something in there that got in somehow but can’t get out.” Ellie quickly added.
“Yeah, probably.” Put in Nathan, whose face was stone cold.

Only a few of the older students knew what was actually in the English rooms, as Conrad had quickly stamped out the rumours and had claimed that the stink was due to a pipe bursting or something like that. Just as Eleanor had said, there was a regular banging coming from the door of English Two as they came around the corner.
“Ok,” Conrad said as he walked over to the door and took the ring of keys of his jacket pocket. “I’m gonna open this door, the racoon or whatever it is, is gonna run out and then we close the door back up.” The others nodded. Israel noticed that the banging had grown more frequent. Surely if it was a fox (seeing as this was Blighty so it most certainly was not a raccoon, which is a scummy American animal) then it would have run away from the sound of people.

He was about to voice this when Conrad swung the door open. For some bizarre reason Israel had expected there to be nothing behind it, which was what happened in films like Dawn of the Dead and Paranormal activity (the second of which Israel thought was a bollocks film). He definitely was not expecting Mr. Burns to faceplant out of the door and onto the concrete.

Eleanor screamed and Israel turned his face away, more because of the stench than the sight of his headmaster’s body splayed out on the floor. After sitting in a boiling room for a month in the middle of Summer there was no surprise that it was the worst thing he’d ever smelt and he would later describe it as; “Fuckin’ rank!”

Israel (and he was sure everyone else) was trying to imagine how the corpse had uncovered itself and been propped up against the door, ready to fall when it was opened. His breath caught in his throat when the arms began to push the decaying husk off the floor and it slowly rose to its feet.

The eyes were gone. Probably because of the thousands of insects that had been consuming them slowly in that tiny, scorching room. Mr. Burns had never been a tall man, but now he seemed colossal and terrifying. As the mouth opened a dozen or so flies emerged from inside along with long, drawn out and pained groan.

The five of them were rooted to the spot but when the thing began to creep forward, Israel saw Nathan’s hand instinctively go to his pocket. He whipped out a small switchblade (which are illegal in Britain) and the thin edge sprung out with a click. When Burns was within a metre of him, he stuck the point between the headmaster’s ribs just as Daniel Day-Lewis had shown him in the film “Gangs of New York”.

Burns stopped as the knife went in. He rasped for breath, letting Nathan know that the lung had been punctured. As he withdrew the blade, a dark red patch began spreading across Burns’ yellow pyjamas. The teacher looked down at the hole, then back to Nathan. So fast that neither Israel nor anyone else could see, Burns leapt on Nathan and pushed him to the ground, bearing his teeth and straining to get at the bare flesh right in front of him.

Israel ran and picked up Nathan’s knife, which had fallen on the ground. He took it in his right hand and plunged it repeatedly into Burns’ back, more maroon patches appearing everywhere like some grotesque form of chicken pocks. The monster screamed as it was stabbed but didn’t let go. Instead it grabbed Nathan harder and it was all the boy could do to keep pushing.

“Move!” came a shout from James. Israel obeyed and watched with wide eyes as James smashed a fist sized rock over Burns’ head. There was a loud cracking noise as the skull was split and the body stopped moving. Blood poured out of its open mouth and onto Nathan’s face. A lot of it went into his mouth and eyes, blinding him.

Even after the corpse had been rolled off him, Nathan stayed on the concrete floor. He ignored Israel when he offered him a hand up. After pacing around the group in a number eight shape, Israel took a very deep breath. “O.K., I’m gonna go ahead and say it. That was a fucking zom...”
“Don’t!” cut in James before he could say the word that was on everyone’s minds. “To say that word is to acknowledge that we are in some kind of fucked up George A Romero film, which I assure you we are not.”
“But it was! You saw it!”
“I know what I saw.” said James slowly but calmly. He still held the bloody rock in his hand and was looking down at the scarlet Nathan, whose eyes were still fixed on empty space. “But just don’t say the fucking word.”
“Aright ok!” Israel was bouncing, apparently unaffected by the fact that he had just assisted in a brutal murder. He was obviously pumped full of adrenaline because he couldn’t stand still. “I mean, I shanked that thing like ten times but then you just raped it in the head with a fuckin’ boulder!”

His bouncing slowed and then ceased entirely when he saw two cafeteria workers in their night clothes standing in the doorway. They were in a similar state to Burns, though their eyes were intact and staring directly at him. Without a word he bent down and slapped Nathan on the forehead. “Nathan!” he whispered. There was no response. Nathan seemed to be in some kind of trance. “Get the fuck up!” Still nothing. Using the knuckle on his middle finger Israel jabbed Nathan hard in the ribs.

This familiar feeling jerked Nathan back to reality. He took a look at the two dinner ladies, then Israel, then got up and sprinted away across the quad leaving the others behind. Israel and the group watched him run, then set off after him when the dinner ladies screeched and began closing in. Upon seeing that the two Dead women were not alone and were almost matching their speed, James stopped just long enough to turn and send his trusty rock at the pair. It caught the fatter one in the forehead and dropped her where she stood.

Israel was shitting himself but was also thrilled. He wanted to stop running and take the fight to them, but the tiny shred of common sense in his warped mind kept him fleeing for his life. As he reached the sports hall he saw the doors were shut, even though Nathan obviously got their before him. Had his friend locked him out? Even though he knew that he shouldn’t lead those disgusting things back to the others, his legs didn’t agree and with his shoulder first he flew through the door, meeting far less resistance than he had anticipated.

He bowled into a group of students, knocking a few over and then lay on the floor panting. Conrad and James followed a few seconds later and collapsed similarly. While people asked them what was going on the three watched the door swing and then close, too scared to speak or move. After a few seconds all hell broke loose.

Eleanor screamed as she fell through the entrance. A young caretaker was on her back with his hands wrapped around her and his jaw latched onto her shoulder. She hit the floor with a thud and flailed beneath the Dead’s grip. There were tears in her eyes. A boy who’s name Israel didn’t know ran to her and tried to pull the man off but a second Dead staff member tackled him to the floor and began biting at his face and neck with a mouth full of rotting teeth.

For a moment the rest of the students in the hall just watched and those who could not see listened, for they were all too horrified to do anything at all. The only sounds to be heard were the screams of the two teenagers and the grunts and groans of the ravenous Dead. Then as a third Dead (the remaining dinner lady, who still had the bed sheet wrapped around her legs) arrived the panic set in.

Everyone, boys and girls began screaming and running at the same time. They all piled over each other to try to move away from the door. Israel saw young girls crushed underfoot by the tide of teenagers but he still couldn’t move. He was less than a metre away from Eleanor, who he thought and desperately hoped was now dead.

There were now six Dead in the hall including the two busy eating and not including the two that made up their meal. They stooped like gargoyles, scanning the mass of people before them and choosing their targets with salivating mouths. Israel realised that Nathan’s flick knife was still in his hand so he got to his feet and got ready for the worst brawl of his life.

He noticed someone come up beside him and turned to see Wayne. He was almost as surprised to see the Irishman by his side with his trusty bat in hand as he was to see his previous teachers ripping apart members of their classes. He punched the boy gently on the shoulder and smiled weakly. Wayne didn’t return the smile and Israel looked down to see with disgust that the Irishman had pissed himself. To be honest he didn’t blame him. He may have done the same if he hadn’t gone ten minutes ago.

The dinner lady ran towards Wayne with her hands outstretched. He shouted as loud as he could as he swung the bat at her. The edge connected with her neck and she fell sideways like a ragdoll, her spine broken. Her eyes were still open. They stared at Israel, lifeless. With this Wayne belted towards the clutch of Dead swinging his club like a madman, despite Israel’s protests. He managed to fell one with a blow to the head before he was overrun, disappearing under a mess of teeth and nails. Pieces of flesh were strewn out of the pile along with splashes or dark blood and Wayne’s yells soon died down to a soft whimpering, then nothing.

It was now and only now that Israel, James and Conrad began to back away to join the rest of the crowd. When the Dead were finally done with their first set of victims they rose as one. Many were holding dripping limbs or strips of skin. Without warning they charged into the mass of students and mauled whoever they could reach. A boy next to Israel was wrestled to the ground and screamed when the fingers that he had rammed in the Dead’s face to protect himself were chewed off.

As fast as he could Israel took the Dead by the hair and slit its throat with Nathan’s knife. The body gurgled on its own blood and then died suddenly with a shudder. The boy rolled it off himself then clambered away as fast as he could. There were more and more Dead entering the hall and it was all Israel could do to try and finish off the ones that were preoccupied.

He saw Conrad with Wayne’s bat in his hands. He was standing back to back with another year ten girl who was armed with a rounders bat. Whenever a Dead came close they would systematically strike it down and had amassed a respectable ring of corpses around them. He recognised the girl as the one who had saved Conrad’s girlfriend from having his face pounded in during his fight with Wayne.

The Japanese girl moved and struck with a speed and grace that contrasted hugely with Conrad’s crude clubbing. He watched them for a while, before running to the pair and forming a triangle. The three moved cautiously, the two batsmen thrashing the hell out of any Dead they came to and then Israel slicing its neck open or jamming his knife into their chests repetitively.

By the time the three came to the door, they were covered in gore from head to toe and had butchered at least twelve Dead between them. There were still about six Dead tearing into the ranks of teenagers and Israel could see at least twenty bodies lying on the floor motionless with various injuries that pumped blood onto the floor around them.

Israel was about to lead the counter-attack when Nathan pushed passed him. Israel saw two large kitchen knives in his hands, clean for now but he was sure this was about to change. Before he could join him, Nathan had bounded up behind the nearest Dead, (who was munching on an unconscious girl’s thigh) pulled him off by his neck and plunged the knife in his right hand into the Dead’s stomach. The thing screamed as Nathan twisted the blade violently and then went stiff.

A second Dead turned to face him. Without really knowing what he was doing Nathan tossed his left knife through the air. By what Israel guessed was a stroke of luck the blade sunk into the thing’s chest, bringing it to its knees. The Dead was a young, blonde art teacher who Israel had used to think was quite pretty. Nathan strode up to the blonde woman, yanked her off the floor by her scalp and then hacked at her neck with his remaining knife until the body fell to the floor, minus a head. It was sickening to watch and Israel had to choke back the vomit.

In under a minute Nathan had killed all the remaining Dead in the hall. His weapons were stained dark red-black and had hair and strips of clothing clinging to them. There were twitching hands and stomach contents all around to show off his wet work. When he was done he stood still. Israel noticed that he wasn’t even breathing heavily. His eyes and face were obscured by his long dark brown hair that was now matted by the clotting blood.

Next Israel looked to Conrad, whose eyes were filled with tears as he surveyed the carnage. There were corpses everywhere, barely more than children. The air was filled with the wails of the dying and the maimed, who squirmed on the ground in pools of their own blood and urine. The sight was disgusting. Conrad sat down on the floor, unable to do anything at all except blubber. Israel slapped him on the shoulder, trying to get him to move and take control of the petrified people in his care.

This was Conrad’s responsibility, not his. And for that Israel was unspeakably grateful.