Read Online The Undead. The First Seven Days by R R Haywood - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: R R Haywood
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shop is on the main through-road and it’s a modern, large, convenience store - more like a mini-supermarket.
I slow down as I drive past, scared that I will see my Dad amongst them.
No sign of him, but they are standing outside the shop, peering in.
As I go past, I see movement from within the shop - there are people inside. The windows have posters and signs up and I can’t see them clearly, but someone is waving at me and I catch a glimpse of another person standing with them.
My Dad could be inside! He might have gone there for his newspaper and become trapped with some other survivors.
I think about going straight to their house, but if he is inside I could be too late if I have to come back.
I slow the car and look back; there are five undead, all adults.
One of them looks like a delivery driver, wearing matching blue trousers and jacket, another is very old - even from here I can see his hunched over thin frame and wispy grey hair, he is only wearing baggy shorts and a white vest, the shorts are pulled up high and the vest is tucked in.
There are two undead women, late middle-aged, both dressed in sensible trousers and shoes and sleeveless jackets with pastel coloured shirts. They look like they were dog walkers: early to bed and early to rise, clean living with dogs that are always perfectly behaved and expertly trained.
The last undead is a young male, he is dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt.
I watch them move; slow and shuffling, facing into the shop. They are trying to walk ahead and are pressing their bodies against the door and windows, banging into each other.
I look about, but I can’t see any more undead anywhere. If I am going to do this I have to be quick, the noise and movement might attract more and I don’t want to end up trapped inside too.
I leave the car in the road, engine running and door open. I take the bat and leave my bag. Then I go back and close the door; in my mind is an image of an undead sitting on the backseat, waiting for me.
As I slam the door, the old male undead turns round and watches me; he starts shuffling towards me straight away. Within seconds, they are all turned and moving towards me - like an unspoken message has passed between them.
I think about getting back in the car and leaving the people inside the shop to their fate, but I would never forgive myself if I did that.
The undead are still moving slowly and again I think about last night and how different they are now; arms hanging down limp at their sides, heads lolling about, walking with straight legs - which accentuates the movement of their upper bodies.
I need to separate them, they are too close together for me to risk attacking them, even with the range of the baseball bat, it would only take one of them to lunge quickly and I could get bitten.
I look at the area… the pavement has obstacles: a bike rack, litter bins and post box. There is a high step down from the pavement to the road, these are things which will impede my movements and could cause me to trip or fall.
But the road is wide and clear, with no obstructions.
I move off to my right, luring them into clear ground. I’m choosing my battle ground, selecting where to fight and it feels strange. There is almost a sense of excitement, a weird feeling, like just before the roller coaster moves off. I am scared, yet excited.
The old man is nearest; he saw me first and has the head start. I thought his old age would make him slower and the others would go past him, but they move at roughly the same speed. It appears the undead are not hampered by age or infirmity.
Watching the old man come towards me, makes me uneasy - he looks very old and frail and there is a large wound on the top of his right shoulder where the flesh has been bitten away. There is blood all down his front; it is also smeared up his neck and on the side of his face.
I’m getting the same feeling as I had when
I slow down as I drive past, scared that I will see my Dad amongst them.
No sign of him, but they are standing outside the shop, peering in.
As I go past, I see movement from within the shop - there are people inside. The windows have posters and signs up and I can’t see them clearly, but someone is waving at me and I catch a glimpse of another person standing with them.
My Dad could be inside! He might have gone there for his newspaper and become trapped with some other survivors.
I think about going straight to their house, but if he is inside I could be too late if I have to come back.
I slow the car and look back; there are five undead, all adults.
One of them looks like a delivery driver, wearing matching blue trousers and jacket, another is very old - even from here I can see his hunched over thin frame and wispy grey hair, he is only wearing baggy shorts and a white vest, the shorts are pulled up high and the vest is tucked in.
There are two undead women, late middle-aged, both dressed in sensible trousers and shoes and sleeveless jackets with pastel coloured shirts. They look like they were dog walkers: early to bed and early to rise, clean living with dogs that are always perfectly behaved and expertly trained.
The last undead is a young male, he is dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt.
I watch them move; slow and shuffling, facing into the shop. They are trying to walk ahead and are pressing their bodies against the door and windows, banging into each other.
I look about, but I can’t see any more undead anywhere. If I am going to do this I have to be quick, the noise and movement might attract more and I don’t want to end up trapped inside too.
I leave the car in the road, engine running and door open. I take the bat and leave my bag. Then I go back and close the door; in my mind is an image of an undead sitting on the backseat, waiting for me.
As I slam the door, the old male undead turns round and watches me; he starts shuffling towards me straight away. Within seconds, they are all turned and moving towards me - like an unspoken message has passed between them.
I think about getting back in the car and leaving the people inside the shop to their fate, but I would never forgive myself if I did that.
The undead are still moving slowly and again I think about last night and how different they are now; arms hanging down limp at their sides, heads lolling about, walking with straight legs - which accentuates the movement of their upper bodies.
I need to separate them, they are too close together for me to risk attacking them, even with the range of the baseball bat, it would only take one of them to lunge quickly and I could get bitten.
I look at the area… the pavement has obstacles: a bike rack, litter bins and post box. There is a high step down from the pavement to the road, these are things which will impede my movements and could cause me to trip or fall.
But the road is wide and clear, with no obstructions.
I move off to my right, luring them into clear ground. I’m choosing my battle ground, selecting where to fight and it feels strange. There is almost a sense of excitement, a weird feeling, like just before the roller coaster moves off. I am scared, yet excited.
The old man is nearest; he saw me first and has the head start. I thought his old age would make him slower and the others would go past him, but they move at roughly the same speed. It appears the undead are not hampered by age or infirmity.
Watching the old man come towards me, makes me uneasy - he looks very old and frail and there is a large wound on the top of his right shoulder where the flesh has been bitten away. There is blood all down his front; it is also smeared up his neck and on the side of his face.
I’m getting the same feeling as I had when
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