British Zombie Breakout

  Copyright Peter Salisbury October 2011

  Cover painting by Daphne Coleridge

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The contents must not be copied and distributed or re-distributed by means of printed paper, electronic transfer or by any on-line means, without the express permission of the author.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This story is entirely fictional and any resemblance to any person or place is entirely unintentional and coincidental.

  British Zombie Breakout

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: At The Harbour

  Chapter 2: One Word

  Chapter 3: Drawbridge

  Chapter 4: Fishbone Alley

  Chapter 5: Haunted

  Chapter 6: Weapons

  Chapter 7: Dungeon

  Chapter 8: Ghost

  Chapter 9: Let Me Out

  Chapter 10: In the Thicket

  Chapter 11: A Mother's Pride

  Chapter 12: Maisie's Triumph

  Chapter 13: A Smell of Burning

  More by Peter Salisbury

  Chapter 1: At The Harbour

  Sarah's head shot up from where she leaned at her computer screen. 'Is that the siren?' she said. 'Karen, open the window.'

  Karen was nearest the triple glazed, energy-saving windows. She swung the catch and pushed, to be rewarded with the grinding wail of the klaxon on the school clock tower.

  Sarah walked to the window and looked out at the harbour. There was blue sky all the way to the horizon.

  'Floods in this weather…?' she said.

  'That or…' Karen ran to the multiband radio in the corner. A clenched fist pressed to her mouth, she used her other hand to fumble with the presets until she got speech.

  '…ombies broke out last night from the secure facility seven miles from Kilkorne,' the announcer intoned in a solemn voice. 'The public is instructed to avoid…'

  'No!' Sarah shrieked. 'Not again!'

  '… contact with zombies. A Ministry spokesperson said today that a significant military presence…'

  Sarah flew across the room and rapped on the glass partition which divided the shipping office into two sections. Janet Raymond turned and waved Sarah to open the door. With the radio bulletin continuing in the background and the siren audible in the distance, Sarah got as far as opening her mouth before Janet, the harbourmaster, spoke.

  'Zombies?'

  Sarah nodded and turned back to grab her coat and handbag. Karen was already by the door to the stairwell, holding it open for the other two women.

  As the three clattered down the wooden stairs, Karen said, 'The fishing boats are all out, that just leaves Mercator, Cornish Imp and the sailing dinghies.'

  'We should have called the coastguard,' Janet said, stopping on the bottom step.

  'They'll know, they've got even more radios than we have.'

  'OK, let's see if we can start Cornish Imp's engine. I bet Jack's gone off with the key.'

  'Well, it is his boat.'

  The three women burst out the front door of the harbourmaster's office and ran beside bright blue railings which edged the concrete strip of the quay. To their left was the harbour and the sea, to their right a picturesque fishing village that was in the process of descent into mayhem. Halfway along the quay, they heard a shout from behind. Two men were running towards them.

  The women huddled in fear together for a moment. Then recognition broke over one of their faces.

  'It's my Bill,' Karen said. 'Looks like he's got Graham with him, too.'

  'Thank goodness,' Sarah said, waving as if her life depended on it.

  'Where are you going?' Graham said, leaning on the railings to catch his breath.

  'Get a boat and sail out the harbour, of course,' Janet said.

  'Fleet's out, they're no help.'

  'We know that, Bill. And the wives caught the early bus to work in Buntinton.'

  'The fewer people left in the village the better.'

  'Quite, but right now there's just us,' Janet said. 'We need to get a boat ready to go for when the children arrive.'

  'Mercator, it's the biggest of what's left,' Graham said.

  'Electrical fault,' Bill said. 'Won't start.'

  'What?'

  'It's got an electrical fault. They're coming to fix it tomorrow.'

  'Cornish Imp, then,' Graham said, taking his wife's arm and leading her further down the quay, past the incessant slap, slap, slap of the dinghies' rigging against their jostling masts, to where the long cabin of Cornish Imp rose in white with red trim beyond them. It was a tourist boat mainly used in the summer season. If it hadn't been for the zombie threat, it would have been in dry dock being painted.

  'When did Jack start mooring it right down the far end?'

  'Since the last lot of vandalism,' Bill said. 'Keeps the engine room locked now, too.'

  And it's nearer to the end the kids'll be coming from.' Janet said.

  'Where is Jack anyway?'

  'Took his wife shopping. I saw them drive off when I came out the house first thing,' Sarah said.

  'So we'll have to break into the front cabin.'

  'And hope he hasn't taken the ignition key.'

  'Speaking of kids,' Janet said, 'where are they?'

  The five adults hovered half a dozen yards from the lacquered deck of Cornish Imp, straining their eyes to follow the village's tiny winding streets back to the school more than a mile away. Its square grey buildings and white tower nestled up against the woods at the foot of the hill on which stood Kilkorne castle, the place that gave the village its name. The small huddle of would-be rescuers stopped dead as the sound of gunfire echoed through the town and distant screams drifted on the breeze that was heading out to sea. A flock of gulls leapt into the air, squawking and flapping.

  Army trucks plunged down the road traversing the old cliff face at the tail end of the village. The gunfire redoubled and a plume of smoke rose from the school.

  Another movement caught Bill's eye. 'There,' he pointed. 'There're zombies in the High Street, see?'

  Two limping figures dressed in green quarantine clothes, followed by half a dozen more disappeared behind the bank and the supermarket. Moments later, an army vehicle swept after them, accompanied by the sound of squealing tyres, automatic weapons fire and breaking glass.

  Looking the other way back to the school, Bill said, 'I can see some kids have got away. They're going up the hill to the castle.'

  A brief smile flickered at Janet's mouth and she pressed her hand to her chest. 'The one in front, on the bike, I think it's Stevie.'

  'Come on,' Graham said, 'we can't stay here, not with zombies and the army coming down the High Street.'

  'What about the plan?' Karen said.

  'The "all sail to safety on a boat with the school kids and anyone else still alive" plan?'

  'That's the one.'

  'How many people and kids do you see queuing up to get on the boat?' Janet said, still staring at the castle.

  'But there's no point trying to get in the castle,' Karen wailed. 'It'll all be locked up.'

  'Janet, where's Samuel?' Sarah said.

  'I took him to catch a train at seven-thirty.'

  Sarah looked puzzled, Janet's partner Sam was the village's part-time customs officer. He was always there, which was why his other part-time job was to look after the castle.

  'He's got a course on medieval weaponry, or something.'

  'So we can't get in the castle,' Sarah said, 'because Sam's off "doing weapons", we can't use Cornish Imp because Jack's gone shopping…'


  'And the army are chasing zombies right this way,' Karen added, wringing her hands and trying to hide inside Bill's coat.

  'Not a problem!' Janet said, hand on hip and waving a stout leather purse. 'As the part-time custodian's partner, I get to carry the spare key.'

  Chapter 2: One Word

  Monday morning looked as though it would take off as usual when the teacher began what should have been an hour of History, followed by an hour of Grammar. At ten past nine, a wild-looking kid burst into the classroom.

  'Fats, typical!' Alex thought. 'There's always got to be someone late.' At sixteen she took pride in getting herself to school on time and looking smart.

  The boy's shirt was hanging out and his tie was crooked. He was so out of breath, he couldn't speak, so the teacher made him sit down. Alex thought he was just late for school but he sprang back up a second later and without asking went straight to the whiteboard behind the teacher's desk. Grabbing a black marker, in large, shaky letters he wrote one word:

  ZOMBIES

  'The zombies are coming?' Miss Smith shrieked, jumping back as though the kid was already infected.

  'Yes,' he gasped, eyes wide and head nodding as if to make it fall off. Right on cue, the school alarm blared out and the screaming began.

  Miss Smith didn't manage to get all her words out about moving in an orderly fashion before the whole class was out of the door and into the corridor.

  Between the intermittent blasts from the klaxon, which doubled as the local flood warning, Alex could hear more screaming. Everyone tore off down the corridor away from the screams and out into the quad. Most of the others, including Miss Smith, ran off in random directions but Alex stopped to listen. The noise of breaking glass and hideous thumping and crunching sounds were coming from the direction of the Head Teacher's office. There was no way she was heading in that direction. Maisie, Rachel and Fred hung back with her. The late kid puffed past towards the bike sheds. That looked like a smart idea on his part but Alex and her friends didn't have bikes. Alex figured if they could get through the bottom corridor and out the other side, they might be able to get out onto the street and away.

  Stuff being smashed and fresh screaming began from the admin block, so it seemed like a good time to break away. Alex ran as fast as she could across the close-cropped grass of the quad, jumped the corner of the flower bed, dodged past an urn that was ablaze with petunias and ran straight through the open door into the bottom corridor. The other three came through right behind her. She could see Maisie was about to open her mouth but she signalled them to be silent. Apart from the now more distant screams still issuing from the admin block, the corridor was quiet.

  There was a thin trail of zombie blood on the concrete floor leading from where they must have broken in, and what looked revoltingly like it might once have been someone's ear, or maybe even a nose. In the instant Alex motioned the other kids forward to make a run for the school main entrance, a zombie burst through the swing doors at the far end of the passageway. It was a hundred feet away but that was way too close. Rachel screamed and ran for the exit with Maisie close behind. The zombie was relatively healthy looking, still having both arms and legs, though its hair was falling out and its face looked horribly melted. It broke into a loping run and Alex certainly wasn't going to check if it was missing an ear. Fred seemed to have frozen, so Alex shoved him hard towards the exit and took off, past caring whether or not he stayed to be mauled.

  Rachel was already at the school main gate with Maisie close after. Alex heard Fred shout. He wasn't far behind her but was pointing to the left. Up ahead, the two girls looked that way and saw a bunch of zombies heading towards them. They were in a worse state than the one they'd seen only moments before but, with the one behind them, Alex could see a trap forming. Fred caught up and Alex grabbed his arm, shouting to Maisie and Rachel to go for the side gate. As soon as they were through it, Alex looked up the hill and had an idea.

  'Come on, this way,' she said, pointing to the remains of a medieval fortress.

  The kids ran towards the castle that was about half a mile up the road from the school. There wasn't any screaming in that direction. It was on top of a small hill overlooking the harbour, which was the heart of their little village. Alex knew the castle had a museum and the place was defensible; there were weapons, and she'd seen the drawbridge working on a school trip. Glancing back, she saw Maisie and Fred flagging. She screamed for them to hurry, pointing at the zombies that were still following, milling through the swing gate at the school. The late kid swept past on his bike. His dad was the curator of the castle museum and Alex guessed he had a key to the turnstile.

  Alex knew that normally the place didn't open until midday but if they could get in they might be able to keep the zombies out.

  Alex pointed at the turnstile. 'You got the key, Fats?' she yelled.

  'If you call me that once more, you can go right back and be killed,' he said with unexpected ferocity. 'My name's Steve.'

  'Steve, sorry.' Alex hung her head for a moment, reminded of how bad it felt when people called you names. Steve searched in his pocket for the key to unlock the three-quarter height turnstile in the perimeter fence. If it was locked once they were through it wouldn't stop the zombies completely but it would slow them down while they climbed over.

  Rachel ran up alongside and rattled the fence with both hands.

  'Come on, Fats,' she screamed. 'What are you hanging about for? The zombies aren't going to wait.'

  Alex saw the look in Steve's eyes and she grabbed Rachel's arm and swung her around.

  'Look,' Alex said, 'He's called Steve, OK, and he's probably the only one who can save us, so don't call him names, alright?'

  Rachel's eyes opened wide and she looked at Steve's key, then back to see how close the zombies had come.

  'OK, Steve. Anything, just open the damn place up.'

  Hands shaking, Steve unlocked the turnstile. They let Rachel go first, then Alex helped Steve get his bike through while Fred and the Maisie caught up. Steve re-locked the turnstile, jumped on his bike and took off up the path to the moat fifty yards away. The three girls and Fred followed, until their feet drummed on the wooden slats of the drawbridge.

  The five kids huddled under the solid stone arch which joined two towers that formed the massive gatehouse. The zombies swarmed all over the turnstile, falling down, growling, snarling and getting back up again. It would have looked funny if the zombies hadn't been intent on murder.

  'What do we do, Steve?' Alex said, her nerves popping while she watched him stand his bike against the ancient masonry on the inside of the gatehouse.

  'The drawbridge,' he gasped. 'We might not get it all the way up in time but we should try it anyway.'

  'Do it.' Rachel screamed, clenching her fists and bouncing up and down on her toes. 'Quickly!'

  Chapter 3: Drawbridge

  Steve shoved at a door that gave access into one of the towers, forcing it open.

  Each tower held one of the enormous chains for the drawbridge, either side of the towers the wall continued to make a full circle around a raised mound. The castle had a dry moat, so even if they got the drawbridge up, the zombies could still climb down and up the other side. It would slow them down a lot, though, and right then, to Alex, it seemed like the best option.

  Alex watched Steve go straight to a panel recessed in the wall and saw him clicking switches. Then a motor hummed and whined up to full speed. That was just as well because some of the zombies were already only fifteen yards from the far side of the drawbridge.

  'The drawbridge is electric?' Alex said.

  'Of course. You'd need a dozen men to haul it up otherwise.'

  'I guess they did exactly that before electricity.'

  Alex peered round the side of the door in the tower and saw the chains tighten. The far lip of the drawbridge had lifted a half yard when two zombies jumped onto it, beckoning to the ones behind. Four more scrambled up to jo
in them and they reached down to help the others. The motor slowed and the chains groaned with the strain, even the stone walls seemed to shudder at the enormous effort of raising the massive wooden bridge.

  'It's too slow, Steve, they're climbing onto it and it's going to tip them towards us,' Alex cried.

  Just then the main power cut and solved that particular problem. The drawbridge dropped back with a crash, hurling five of the zombies to the ground but trapping another two who screamed horribly. The wail of the klaxon on top of the school clock tower cut out at the same time, leaving a moment of eerie silence that was quickly replaced by screams.

  For a second the remaining pack of zombies stopped short at the far end of the drawbridge, as if wondering if it would start to move again. It didn't and so within the space of a breath they stepped past those trapped, dead or injured as if unseen. With the smell of untainted human flesh in their nostrils, snarling and drooling, they began to lope across the drawbridge.

  The kids were minutes from death, when Steve took control.

  'Fred, go to the other side and open the door, like this one,' he said, pointing to the tower on the left.

  Fred and Maisie shouldered the door open, making its old hinges creak dreadfully.

  'Now what?' Maisie shouted.

  'Can you see a big wheel, like a ship's wheel?

  'Big, black metal thing with, like, handles round it?'

  'That's it. You need to unhook the chain that stops it from turning, then release the brake lever at the side.'

  'OK, done that,' Fred called.

  Rachel and Alex watched Steve do as he'd instructed the others but rather than releasing the brake completely, he let it out gradually. The wheel should have begun to turn but it didn't.

  'Keep clear of it,' Steve said, 'If the brake slips, the wheel will spin like crazy.

  Steve moved the brake lever some more, but the wheel still didn't move, let alone spin. Alex dodged back out to see if the portcullis was moving. It wasn't but the zombies were nearly upon them.

  'Is the brake fully off?' Alex screamed at Steve, one eye on the zombies. 'Because nothing's moving, except for them.'

  'It's stuck!'

  'What are we going to do?' Rachel yelped. Alex could see she was as white as a sheet and practically frozen with fear.

  'What if we pull on the wheel?'