The Undead Day Fifteen Read online

  Copyright © R. R. Haywood 2014

  R. R. Haywood asserts his moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved.

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters and events, unless those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead (or undead), is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Design, Cover and Illustration by Eddyart.

  Edited by Rachael Brimstone.

  Five hundred and thirty miles above the Earth, the MetOp polar orbiting meteorological satellite records and transmits the data acquired by the high powered equipment and sends this information to the Svalbard Satellite Station in Norway. The satellite recorded the onset of a storm and then monitored the progress throughout the night.

  Its a storm unlike any other. A storm so powerful it has changed the coastline of many countries and caused destruction on a level that makes the rise of the undead appear paltry in comparison.

  Should mankind had not fallen, the storm would have been discussed for many years. It would have destroyed homes, flattened businesses and shattered lives. It would have been given a name. The most likely name would have been Jonas, for that was the name of the scientist allocated to work at the satellite station the evening of the storm. His name was on the rota and Jonas had always wanted a storm named after him.

  Jonas is dead. His lifeless, half eaten body lies rotting halfway out of the doorway to his apartment. His wife killed him. She sank her teeth into his neck and savaged his windpipe before severing a main artery and being sprayed by the hot shower of crimson.

  So the storm went unnamed. There is nobody left to monitor the data being sent by the MetOp satellite, but the satellite doesn’t care. It does what it is programmed to do and will continue for many years, or as long as the solar panels on its huge wings continue to absorb power.

  The satellite watched the storm and now watches something else entirely unique. The cessation of mankind, of the vehicles, the factories, the sudden drop in jet fuel, has triggered a new weather front.

  One that is far more dangerous than the storm.

  The Undead

  Day Fifteen

  The Fog

  R.R Haywood

  One

  I do not want to move. This place is the best I have ever known. Right here, in this tiny room that smells of damp, with bare concrete walls and no natural light. Here on this thin mattress laid flat on the hard floor.

  I’ve slept long and deep, there was a dream but I was too slow on waking to capture the fleeting images and the emotions that went with them. I know it was something powerful and weird but it’s gone now. My body aches, my muscles are sore from being rested for a few a hours. My head thumps with a dull ache and my mouth feels bone dry. I’m thirsty, really thirsty. Hungry too.

  But I don’t care. This room is warm and quiet. Lani still sleeps and her body is pressed close to mine. Dave and the others are on the other side of that door. Clarence, Cookey, Blowers, Nick and I know Meredith will be nearby. This room is probably the safest place in the whole country right now.

  Lani’s breathing is deep and soothing. She breathes in and breathes out. She inhales air that fills her lungs and then blows it back out. She does this naturally and without conscious effort. Her heart pumps blood and works those lungs for she is alive. I am too. We are both alive. I stroke my fingertips on her bare shoulder, feeling the soft warm skin. Silky black strands of hair lie across my chest and I can smell her odour too. A pleasant, feminine smell, musky and sensual. She moves, a slight adjustment of position and I can’t help but smile when she moves in closer to me and a slender hand reaches across my chest in an almost protective embrace.

  Lani would protect me. This woman would give her life for me. She already has really. They took her during the fight but she came back. Was it her that made me immune? What about Cookey? Was he already immune or was it our blood pumping into his that saved him? Meredith can’t be turned but none of us know anything. We’re no more knowledgeable now than we were a few days or a week ago.

  We need doctors. That has to be the priority. For the sake of mankind we have to find out how, or why Lani, Cookey and I are immune. We have to find out if the dog, Meredith is significant to this immunity. Are all her breed immune or just her? What about other dogs?

  More questions than answers. Every time we turn a corner we face more uncertainty and dilemma. Still. We ain’t dead yet and the body count on their side only gets bigger by the day. What was it Dave keeps saying? Fifty million people in this country so the few hundred thousand we might have killed so far is still a drop in the ocean to what could be left.

  Fuck ‘em. We’ll win.

  ‘You’re thinking too loud,’ she whispers in a hoarse voice, ‘I can hear the cogs from here.’

  ‘Sorry…and er…’

  ‘Don’t,’ she moves in closer.

  ‘Sorry about last night…’

  ‘I said don’t,’ she exhales slowly and buries her head further into my side.

  ‘I was so tired…’

  ‘Howie, you don’t have to say anything.’

  ‘Yeah but I feel terrible, like…you know…the first chance we get alone and I fall asleep…’

  ‘I get it,’ she sighs, ‘you just don’t fancy me.’

  ‘What?! No…’

  ‘I’m joking,’ she chuckles, ‘forget it, I was asleep about a second after you anyway…my bladder is going to burst in a second but I’m too cosy and warm.’

  ‘Can we stay here all day?’ I wrap my arms round her body to draw her closer.

  ‘You’re the boss, Mr Howie,’ she replies, ‘you could order me to stay here and I will unwillingly comply,’ she finally lifts her head to grin at me. She looks stunning. Hair plastered across her forehead, sleep marks on her skin and a bit of sleep in the corner of one eye but she is beautiful beyond compare. ‘However,’ she groans, ‘the great and mighty Mr Howie will be needed by the masses of survivors…and I am going to wet the bed in a second…oh,’ she looks down at her own naked body, ‘I’m nudey in front of Mr Howie.’

  ‘Nudey!’ I burst out laughing.

  ‘Rudey nudey,’ she nods seriously, ‘close your eyes please while I get up.’

  ‘Not a chance,’ I grin wolfishly and make a point of opening my eyes wider.

  ‘Pervert,’ shaking her head with a wry grin she stands up and pulls the cover with her, wrapping it round her body in one smooth move that leaves me naked and completely exposed.

  ‘Oi,’ covering my privates I roll onto my side.

  ‘Oh it’s alright for you to gawp is it?’

  ‘Give me that cover back,’ I make a grab for the corner but she jerks away too fast for me.

  ‘Come and get it.’

  ‘Get what?’

  ‘You sound like Cookey now,’ she laughs, ‘you have a lovely bum, Mr Howie,’ she adds with a nod down at my naked backside presented to her.

  Fifteen days into the apocalypse. Death everywhere. Destruction on a scale that leaves me reeling. Loss, suffering and pain and still I’m too shy to uncover my willy in front of her.

  ‘I would say the same but I haven’t seen it,’ I look back over my shoulder and let my mouth drop open at the sight of her dropping the cover to stand unashamedly naked in front of me. The humour is g
one suddenly, a yearning look on her face. Not lust but something else, like a need to be open, completely open. Her actions invoke a response and I roll over, rising swiftly to my feet as I take my hands away from my privates to stand naked before her but we keep our eyes locked and staring. The lamp in the corner is soft with yellow light. It’s warm and snug in here and I feel no shame now.

  She smiles softly and holds a hand out. I take it, entwining my fingers in hers. She finally breaks eye contact and lets her gaze drop to my shoulders and a look of pain flits across her face as she takes in the bites, cuts and bruises all over my body. Soft fingers trace over the wounds, clear teeth marks where one of them got their mouth on me.

  ‘I can see your stomach muscles,’ she smiles up at me, ‘you need to eat more…Howie,’ she stares directly at me now, ‘look at me.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘No,’ she smiles softly, ‘at my body.’ I do as bid and finally wrench my gaze from staring at her eyes. That I’m in love is a given but there is something else here, something deep and strange. I don’t need to see her body to know I want her physically. Her spirit, the essence of the person has captivated me, her ferocious protection and dedication.

  Ah, but I’m a bloke and I do look down and what a view. Slender, defined, sleek and so powerful and lithe. Not an ounce of fat anywhere on her body.

  She groans suddenly which snaps my gaze back up, ‘sorry she winces, ‘but I am actually going to wet myself…gotta go,’ she lunges in and kisses me quick and hard on the mouth before wrapping the covers round her body and darting for the door.

  ‘Morning,’ she calls out, which tells me the others must be up and about already, ‘you making the coffees?’

  ‘Yes,’ I hear Cookey groaning and grin to myself. Normality is here. Shaking my head I start getting dressed and wonder what calamities will befall us today.

  Two

  ‘Paula.’

  A feminine hand reaches sleepily from the covers, the fingers groping to press against Roy’s lips, ‘ssshhh,’ she mumbles.

  ‘Paula,’ Roy repeats, his tone slightly more urgent this time.

  ‘Not again, Roy,’ Paula pleads but snuggles in closer against his body.

  ‘My testicles are hurting,’ Roy blurts out.

  Paula emerges from the cover, blinking heavily she tries to focus in the gloom of the dimly lit room, ‘seriously?’ She asks.

  ‘Seriously, they’re aching…I must be getting ca…’

  ‘Roy,’ She cuts him off, ‘we’ve had sex three times since we came in here…I’m not surprised they’re aching.’

  ‘Yeah but…’

  ‘When was the last time you had sex?’

  ‘About an hour ago.’

  ‘Not with me,’ she smiles sleepily, ‘I meant before…you know…before me.’

  ‘Oh, er…god…years?’ Roy shrugs, ‘I don’t know but a long time.’

  ‘Years? No wonder then,’ Paula comments drily, ‘years without then three times in a few hours…’

  ‘It was four actually,’ Roy corrects her.

  ‘Was it?’

  ‘You fell asleep during the last one.’

  ‘Did I? Oh…sorry…did you finish?’

  ‘No! That would be wrong,’ Roy looks aghast, ‘I was pretty tired too by then anyway so…’

  ‘So it’s three then,’ Paula squints at him, ‘does it count if neither of us finish?’

  ‘Oh well,’ Roy thinks for a second, ‘well there was certainly penetration and that is the actual act of sexual intercourse so, I would say yes, yes it does count.’

  ‘Okay, four then,’ Paula flops back down to sink her head onto his chest, ‘er…I don’t want to sound all cheesy or anything but um…it was bloody amazing,’ she looks up coyly, ‘we haven’t stopped for the last day….fighting all night and then that…no one has ever done that before.’

  ‘Done what?’

  ‘Made love to me four times in a night.’

  ‘It wasn’t night,’ Roy says plainly, ‘it was daylight when we came in here.’

  ‘Same thing,’ Paula shrugs again then shuffles position to lift her upper body up and rest on her elbows. ‘Did you enjoy it?’ She immediately regrets asking. A reminder of the old Paula, the Paula that needed validating by others. The Paula that needed people to tell her she had done a good job.

  ‘Yes,’ a firmness to his tone. A straight answer to a straight question. Paula smiles to herself. There are no games with Roy, no playing hard to get. His He looks across to stare into her eyes and blinks several times as a confused look flits across his face, ‘listen,’ he begins tentatively, ‘I’m not good with words and…well or people really, words and people,’ he nods to himself, ‘I get self-obsessed with my anxiety and…’

  ‘Roy, you don’t have to explain anything…’

  ‘No, I want to,’ he says quickly.

  A sinking feeling hits her stomach, a premonition that a rejection is about to follow.

  ‘I say the wrong things and offend people and I can be quite blunt and rude sometimes…what I mean is…I think you are a very nice person and everything but the er…well the world has ended and…’

  ‘It doesn't matter,’ she says softly, ‘it was nice being with you now,’ she rubs the sleep from her face, stretching her jaw as she exhales slowly.

  ‘I get obsessive about things and it’s hard for others to understand that.’

  ‘Roy, you don’t have to explain anything. So what are your plans?’ She asks with another sigh and a tone that suggests the conversation should move on.

  ‘Plans?’

  ‘Are you staying here or…?’

  ‘Oh right, what are you doing?’

  ‘I’m staying, Roy. It’s up to you what you do.’

  ‘I want to be with you,’ he says in that flat tone, ‘so I’ll stay.’

  ‘Pardon?’ She looks up in surprise.

  ‘I want to stay with you,’ he looks over at her again, ‘so I’ll stay here…’ He seems to become aware of his presumptive tone, ‘I mean that’s what I’d like to do, er…is that okay?’ He asks with a shake of his head, clearly out of his depth trying to deal with such a sensitive topic.

  Paula blinks and stares for a second, ‘you want to be with me?’

  ‘Yes, isn’t that obvious? I couldn’t make love to just anybody,’ a disgusted look crosses his face, ‘all those germs and dirtiness, god no…I mean…the very thought of sharing bodily fluids with anyone is disgusting, but you…well, you’re different.’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Oh completely,’ he nods emphatically, ‘you make me feel safe.’

  ‘Safe!? Roy, you are one of the toughest men I have ever met…’

  ‘Hmmm?’ He looks confused for a second, ‘tough? Me? I’m a bloody wreck!’ I can’t get through a day without thinking I’m dying of some disease…you make that go away,’ he nods again, ‘something about you, something…’ he squints while trying to think, ‘something calming.’

  ‘Right,’ Paula says slowly, ‘I’m sure there is a compliment in there somewhere so…er…thank you?’

  ‘I mean,’ Roy continues blithely, ‘if you can tolerate me that is, I’ll probably piss you off within a day or two so just tell me to fuck off when that happens.’

  ‘Swearing doesn’t suit you,’ Paula says, cocking her head to one side, ‘you speak so well, pronouncing all your letters and your tone is educated…’

  ‘Oh, sorry.’

  ‘Don’t apologise, you don’t ever have to apologise to me, Roy. I’m just making an observation. And I can get pretty annoying too, really bossy and…’

  ‘You…bossy? I never noticed.’

  ‘Very funny…so you don’t mind making love with me then? Sharing my bodily fluids and all that.’

  ‘Not at all,’ he grins, ‘shall we do it again?’

  ‘I’m quite sore but er…um…ah whatever, it’s the end of the world.’

  Three

  The woman grows in stature wit
h every passing hour. Striding through the fort with clipboard in hand. She is still young yet others many years older defer to her natural authority. She looks different, the way she walks with a straight back and head held high. A sense of confidence that is reassuring, that she knows what to do, she knows what must be done.

  Lenski looks up at the sky, noticing the low cloud that seems to be getting lower every few minutes. The deep blue sky and scorching sun of the last two weeks has gone, chased away by that brutal storm. The fort is in a mess. Complete chaos to the untrained eye but she can see the organisation within that chaos. Groups of people work to clear the ruined debris from the ground, stacking it up near the front gates ready to be taken away later.

  More workers slowly start picking away at the hastily formed barricade at the rear gate under the watchful eye of a crew headed by Darius. Others pick through the piled up debris, selecting and putting to one side anything that can be used again. Wood for building or material for cover.

  Young children sleep and rest on the ramp that leads to the high walls, the only proper dry ground and again under the watchful eye of another crew tasked to guard them. Women stay with the children, caring for them, giving maternal affection and soothing words. The young boys brought back by Nick are quiet and terrified with faces etched with shock. Those that do sleep do so fitfully with frequent cries that speak of dark nightmares and the horrors they have witnessed.

  A third crew remain outside the gates, tasked to watch and do nothing else. No entry to anyone. No exit to anyone. The fort is now a secure environment. It has to be this way.

  Yet more people have been tasked to provide her with a full inventory of stock; food, supplies, clothing and equipment. So many of these survivors have only the clothes they are wearing and no other possessions. The children will need clean clothes, vitamins and nutritious food. Everyone needs clean clothes, vitamins and nutritious food.