London by Frank Tayell

Author:Frank Tayell [Tayell, Frank]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2013-12-27T05:00:00+00:00

Part 2: An Empty England

Day 35. The Walworth Road, London.

19:15

Killing the zombie in the garden wasn't hard. I opened the door, swung myself two steps and let go of the crutch's grip, letting it swing from the loop I'd attached to my arm. The zombie was starting to rise from its crouch as I took a firmer grip of the hammer I'd been awkwardly gripping with my right hand. As I brought the hammer up I adjusted my stance, better balanced I swung it down just as the creature started to turn towards me, the blow landing just above its right ear.

The noise is something I won't forget, a cracking sucking sound as the skull shattered and a brown sludge-like ooze sprayed out. I don’t know what a brain should look like but I’m pretty sure it's not that. It collapsed onto the path, and that was that. It was over in a matter of seconds. I didn’t even have to see its face.

Everything was going to plan. I took a moment to look around, to make sure everything was clear, then I pulled the bike out, closed the door and began making my way down the path.

The bike didn't work, not like I'd hoped, perhaps if I'd been able to practice... I’m glad I brought it though because there was another zombie, invisible from the house, hidden behind the low front wall. I didn’t notice it until it had already lunged at me. Its legs were gone, along with half of its jaw, it couldn’t move far, couldn't move fast, but if the bike hadn't been between me and it, I'd be one of Them now.

Reflexively I let go of the bike, letting it fall as it tried to claw at me, its arms becoming tangled in the frame. I froze. I just stood staring at it for I don't know how long. I tried to lift my arm but it was like moving through water. All I could hear was my own silent scream. All I could see were its crazed eyes flecked with grey, vacant but still very human. I brought my arm down, but there was barely any force to the blow, the hammer glanced off the side of its head, bringing away a chunk of hair and flesh and brown pus, exposing the white skull beneath.

I struck again and again and again. It stopped moving after the fifth blow.

I was in shock, I guess. I left the bike there, I didn't even try to disentangle it. Time didn't slow down, I wish it had, if anything it sped up as I slowed down. Every step seemed to take an age as I limped over to the car. I told myself to focus, to stay on task, that I'd get the radio and then get back inside call for help and a helicopter with an extraction team would be here before nightfall.

Foolish!

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