box flares instantly; a bright light and stench of sulphur. I drop the box and pull myself in, ducking down below the window.
I hear a whooshing noise as the lighter fluid ignites. I peer out, just a glimpse, before I run.
The flames are spreading quickly, leaping from undead to undead. I remember the sickening smell of burning flesh from last night and I quickly move away from the window, down the stairs and out of the back door, to the gate and out into the street.
I turn left and start running, bat in hand.
I reach the end of the street and turn left again, this takes me out onto the main road. I look back down to the shop and can see thick, black smoke and flames licking at the side of the building.
Bodies on fire… they are still standing there; like they haven’t the sense or intelligence to move away. Even the ones standing on the outside aren’t moving away. They wait at the point they last saw me; ever hopeful to find one more piece of living flesh to bite into.
The building has caught light now, flames are shooting up the side, more smoke pluming into the air. There is an undead female moving across the square, heading towards the flames, and another undead behind her.
Further on, past the fire, I can see the undead moving up the street, heading towards the blaze.
They are like insects at night; drawn to light. I don’t know if it’s the action, the movement, the fire or just the crowd of other undead that draws them.
I move away and head towards the garage.
Last night I watched as they massed at the front of my house and behind my front door. But then I was screaming abuse at them from my window, alerting them to my presence. Then the armoured van went past, the horn sounding repeatedly. Was it the noise of the horn that pulled them away or the already huge stream of undead in its wake?
The thoughts give me hope.
Maybe I can carry something that will distract them with movement or noise; something I can throw if I get cornered or trapped. There are plenty of children’s toys that bounce about with loud noises and flashing lights. I should have kept a can of lighter fluid and matches… I could set one of them on fire, which will draw others to it while I get away.
I need supplies and weapons.
The bat is good; it’s longer than the hammer and means I can keep them away from me.
A gun would be perfect, but I have no idea where to find one, the only guns in Britain are shotguns, even a double barrelled shotgun only gives two shots at a time, but a shotgun is also long and heavy - like a bat.
I think of the movies and news reports, of robbers using sawn off shotguns. That would make them smaller and lighter to carry, but reduces their secondary use as a blunt instrument or a ranged weapon.
The police have guns, you see them quite a lot these days, armed police with pistols on their belts. They keep the bigger guns locked in armoured boxes in the car. I guess there must be armouries in the police stations.
That gives me another thought… maybe the police are holed up in their stations? If they have weapons and strong buildings they could remain safely inside. Boroughfare has a police station in the town centre - I should have gone there first.
Ridiculously, I wonder if they would arrest me if I was armed with a gun.
The garage is detached, a sprawling collection of buildings, workshops and lock ups.
To either side of it is wasteland. There are old wrecks and pieces of machinery rusting in the grounds. Big ,double, wooden doors face out onto a hard standing; oil stains on the ground. There is a single fuel pump in the middle, hardly used as the price is always so much cheaper at the supermarkets.
There are two cars on the front, an old Vauxhall Cavalier on a jack; the drivers side wheel is missing. The other one is a silver Nissan Micra .
I move slowly over to the Micra , the bat is held in my right hand, out to the side. The car is locked. I walk over
I hear a whooshing noise as the lighter fluid ignites. I peer out, just a glimpse, before I run.
The flames are spreading quickly, leaping from undead to undead. I remember the sickening smell of burning flesh from last night and I quickly move away from the window, down the stairs and out of the back door, to the gate and out into the street.
I turn left and start running, bat in hand.
I reach the end of the street and turn left again, this takes me out onto the main road. I look back down to the shop and can see thick, black smoke and flames licking at the side of the building.
Bodies on fire… they are still standing there; like they haven’t the sense or intelligence to move away. Even the ones standing on the outside aren’t moving away. They wait at the point they last saw me; ever hopeful to find one more piece of living flesh to bite into.
The building has caught light now, flames are shooting up the side, more smoke pluming into the air. There is an undead female moving across the square, heading towards the flames, and another undead behind her.
Further on, past the fire, I can see the undead moving up the street, heading towards the blaze.
They are like insects at night; drawn to light. I don’t know if it’s the action, the movement, the fire or just the crowd of other undead that draws them.
I move away and head towards the garage.
Last night I watched as they massed at the front of my house and behind my front door. But then I was screaming abuse at them from my window, alerting them to my presence. Then the armoured van went past, the horn sounding repeatedly. Was it the noise of the horn that pulled them away or the already huge stream of undead in its wake?
The thoughts give me hope.
Maybe I can carry something that will distract them with movement or noise; something I can throw if I get cornered or trapped. There are plenty of children’s toys that bounce about with loud noises and flashing lights. I should have kept a can of lighter fluid and matches… I could set one of them on fire, which will draw others to it while I get away.
I need supplies and weapons.
The bat is good; it’s longer than the hammer and means I can keep them away from me.
A gun would be perfect, but I have no idea where to find one, the only guns in Britain are shotguns, even a double barrelled shotgun only gives two shots at a time, but a shotgun is also long and heavy - like a bat.
I think of the movies and news reports, of robbers using sawn off shotguns. That would make them smaller and lighter to carry, but reduces their secondary use as a blunt instrument or a ranged weapon.
The police have guns, you see them quite a lot these days, armed police with pistols on their belts. They keep the bigger guns locked in armoured boxes in the car. I guess there must be armouries in the police stations.
That gives me another thought… maybe the police are holed up in their stations? If they have weapons and strong buildings they could remain safely inside. Boroughfare has a police station in the town centre - I should have gone there first.
Ridiculously, I wonder if they would arrest me if I was armed with a gun.
The garage is detached, a sprawling collection of buildings, workshops and lock ups.
To either side of it is wasteland. There are old wrecks and pieces of machinery rusting in the grounds. Big ,double, wooden doors face out onto a hard standing; oil stains on the ground. There is a single fuel pump in the middle, hardly used as the price is always so much cheaper at the supermarkets.
There are two cars on the front, an old Vauxhall Cavalier on a jack; the drivers side wheel is missing. The other one is a silver Nissan Micra .
I move slowly over to the Micra , the bat is held in my right hand, out to the side. The car is locked. I walk over
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