A Matter of Brains

VI

‘While the Chainsaw-Shotgun is based on sound
principles, it does in fact possess a poor field record.'

‘Yup.’ Dan nodded at the crowd below. ‘That’s congregating if I ever saw it.’

jjjjj‘Are you sure?’

jjjjj ‘Yeah look. They have a central figure, see?’

jjjjj‘You mean the one with the hole in her neck that’s atypically large of rallying commanders?

jjjjj ‘The very one.’

jjjjj The DJ was met with a very large whack on the head. I’m not much a fan of onomatopoeia, but I do like personification. It said: ‘WHALLOP!!’ The hand responsible placed a menthol cigarette between her lips and took a puff. Fiona never was one for the running gag.

jjjjj Crowds had formed both above and below. The survivors huddled atop the precipice of Old Trafford’s roof, zombies clawing at them from the car-park. The undead ranked thousands; their mass spilling out into the city like a turbulent sea. If any comparisons are to be drawn from the book of Revelations, let it be here.

jjjjj ‘Let’s keep clear of this one, lads!’ cried Death, as Pestilence had taken to pissing against a post box. That was it for the most part. There were also some olive trees precariously laden with candles; but these looked a bit dodgy and most gave them a wide berth.

jjjjj ‘I wonder what they want,’ said Dan.

jjjjj ‘What do you want?’ cried Jeff.

jjjjj Suddenly the cries and moans of a thousand damned ceased in unison. All kneeled without the slightest hint of a command. Only one remained standing: the voice of the undead, the demon spawn of Bear Grylls and Ray Mears combined, the unholy Suzie Morningham.

jjjjj ‘We seek the blood of Doomsday Dan!’ she cried skywards, which was a feat and a half considering her well ventilated trachea.

jjjjj ‘Aww…’ said Jeff. ‘I was rather hoping I would turn out to be the hero in this one. After all, it started with me.’

jjjjj ‘No,’ said Dan. ‘You’re just the one seeking adventure, remember? I’m the one with a purpose that comes from being the last of something.’

jjjjj ‘Well if you’ll recall, on page fourteen it was stated that both Jeff and I had a purpose beyond mere survival. That we were shambling towards a very important future.’

jjjjj Fiona exhaled a menthol cloud. Only Dan could see it, but she was getting really rather cross.

jjjjj ‘What about me, ey?’ she snapped. ‘What the hell am I doing up here with you idiots?’

jjjjj ‘I thought you were just a two-dimensional character introduced for us to lust after?’ said Dan.

jjjjj ‘Two dimensional…!? Two dimensional…!? Do you call these two-dimensional?’ She pointed to her chest. It was true: you certainly couldn’t call it two dimensional - although two Ds were involved.

jjjjj ‘If it makes you feel any better,’ said Jeff, ‘as protagonist, I always thought you and I would end up mercilessly and rigorously accosting one another.’

jjjjj He was met with a whack on the head. As far as whacks on the head go this didn’t have much more to say than the first; but let me remind you that whacks are usually judged by severity and not eloquence.

jjjjj ‘Ow,’ replied Jeff. About a six.




Suzie Morningham stared up at the rabble on the roof. Now was her moment. She stood at the pinnacle of humanity, her hand fingering the lynchpin that would bring about the fall of a six-thousand year old empire. The cinematography would be just right for this one. Nice establishing shot followed up by one of those menacing zooms that are usually accompanied by a choir singing in some minor key. A Minor. Oh yes… she liked that. A bit basic but it would have to do until the remake.

jjjjj She was doing everything right: the horde, the horsemen. She had even hired a helicopter to help with the long-shots! Yet up on that damn roof her nemeses were bickering about characterization! This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen at all. Something was in the works here, maybe the bugger-up of some unforeseen protagonist.

jjjjj ‘Oh toss,’ said the queen of the undead. ‘What is Jeff doing up there?’

jjjjj She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Several strands became dislodged between her fingers. It wouldn’t be long now.

jjjjj ‘Start the assault.’




‘Well, as I was trying to explain,’ said Dan. ‘While there can be two protagonists, it’s a very messy affair; and at best, one of them will end with a severe cop-out. There just isn’t enough room for all the loose ends to be tied. Let’s look at some examples. Toderov often said tha-’

jjjjj ‘Err, chaps?’ said Hugo. ‘They’ve started the assault.’




Hollywood is somewhat lacking in the grand tradition of zombie assaults: Dawn of the Dead had one, maybe even Evil Dead once you get past how rubbish their defences were. But apart from that, nothing. Thing is, assault is not really a tactic zombies are known for. It was all very well for Suzie to say they would trample walls underfoot, but this was either a metaphor or showed a gross underestimation of mechanics.

jjjjj The obvious thing for screenwriters to do was sneakily tinker with the words. That’s why you’ll always have a ‘siege’, or at the very best, a ‘prolonged assault’. But make no mistake, zombies want in and they want in now: it’s just that cinema re-branded it to protect the zombies’ feelings, which is a shame let’s face it, because they could probably do a cracking job if they pulled their fingers out.

jjjjj At the scene of Old Trafford, fingers had been vigorously pulled out, and were now wrapped around the breathless jugular of many a nameless intern. This likely had something to do with Suzie, who had not only raised an awareness of tactics, but an inventory of very handy siege equipment. Ghouls shambled vertically in a manner that looked a bit squiffy in terms of physics. Several introduced ladders to the outer wall. Others rode in complex towers, crafted from the fusion of scaffolding and Royal Mail vans.

jjjjj Higher up, the crack of rifle fire creased the air as defenders frantically jammed ammunition into their barrels. The intern formerly tasked with winching the coffee was now saddled upon one of those old rotary machine guns with the big-handle for a trigger. Bullets were falling like hail, and the zombies were all out of umbrellas. They fell by the hundreds, but nonetheless clamoured on.

jjjjj Jeff clutched his trusty yet seldom used cricket bat. It had saved his life once before, hopefully it could do the same again.

jjjjj ‘You know in retrospect, I probably should have picked up the air-rifle when Suzie dropped it,’ he said to Hugo.

jjjjj The first undead claws reached around the rooftop, hoisting after them bodies of foul, rotting decay. These were promptly swept to their doom, but as their density grew, so did their chance of survival.

jjjjj Felicity puffed away a menthol cloud. She wasn’t getting involved in this one. No sir-ee. She didn’t have a purpose after all: so why should she help along the narrative?

jjjjj A zombie’s head was extracted by the swift bludgeon of old England. Jeff gazed at his amputated adversary, a one liner perched evasively on the tip of his tongue.

jjjjj ‘Umm…’ Bloody hell, he thought. He’d used his entire knowledge of cricket in chapter one! This simply would not do. His eyes were drawn to another intern, who had apparently opted for baseball on opening night.

jjjjj ‘Double!’ he cheered coolly as a cranium made acquaintance with the clouds.

jjjjj Ok, so it wasn’t the best, but at least it was something.

jjjjj ‘Hey, buddy,’ Jeff said. ‘Wanna trade?’

jjjjj ‘Sorry. I don’t really know that much about cricket, and you already used the ashes joke.’

jjjjj ‘But… but I’m a main character!’

jjjjj ‘Nah mate, see Dan over there? He’s the main character.’

jjjjj ‘What? No chance. I got the opening dialogue!’

jjjjj ‘So did George Orwell in the last bit.’

jjjjj ‘Well it’s my narrative now!’ huffed Jeff.

jjjjj ‘Good for you, mate. Good for you.’

jjjjj Jeff turned from the cocky intern to witness another zombie parted of its beloved noggin.

jjjjj ‘You whipped his bails off there, mate!’

jjjjj ‘Argh!’

jjjjj Suddenly there was a crunch, a ripple, a shudder, and a tremor – in that precise order. Everything went wobbly for a couple of seconds, the way they sometimes do after that particular series of verbs. Seems Jeff did have some pull as a main after all, for the intern was momentarily deprived of his footing and went plummeting off the stadium very much after the fashion of Alan Rickman.

jjjjj ‘Have a nice trip,’ said Jeff, hating himself for it immediately.

jjjjj He searched for the cause of this quake, and saw to his dismay that the zombie war machine had latched upon the third floor window. Ghouls shambled up the scaffold (they really have a talent for shambling) and into the airlock. Fat lot of good it would do them. That place was sealed tighter than the crotch of a wetsuit.

jjjjj ‘Errr, Dan,’ said a voice that had turned out to be more than just a voice. ‘They broke the code. They’re storming the building.’

jjjjj ‘Aww hell,’ said Dan. ‘Quickly! Fall back inside!’

jjjjj ‘Why?’ puffed Fiona, still stropping.

jjjjj ‘Because it will make for a more exciting and climactic finale…’

jjjjj ‘Surely the roof would be better for that.’

jjjjj ‘Well we already used the Alan Rickman bit.’

jjjjj Fiona shrugged. It was a fair point, but she wasn’t going to let him know it.

jjjjj ‘Well all right then.’

jjjjj Hugo sighed. ‘This isn’t going to be one of those scenarios where we keep losing ground while a speakerphone yells out, “Fall back! Fall back!” over and over is it? Because we might as well just skip to the radio room right now. It would save rather a lot of time.’

jjjjj ‘We’ll just have to find out.’




‘Fall back! Fall back!’ blared a speakerphone, much after the way of all great speakerphones.

jjjjj Interns and executives fired into the crowd, but were subject to an uncomfortable amount of ground loss before the ever advancing wall. Luckily our heroes had taken the advice of their pal Hugo, and were currently enjoying cold, milkless coffee - due in part to the death of the intern that had been winching it.

jjjjj Still, cutting directly to the scene of the climactic finale might seem a bit of a cop-out to some readers – so you’ll be happy to hear there was another pacing the halls. No, it wasn’t the illusive George Orwell. It was none other than the commander, conqueror, and queen of the dammed.

jjjjj Suzie Morningham smirked as another manikin fell victim to the crowd. Take that Bobby Charlton! This was more like it! This was how it was all going to end! Dan was right where she wanted him: sealed in the radio room, trapped like a rat. It couldn’t have gone better if she’d planned it – which she had! And things were going swimmingly as a result.

jjjjj Now there was only one more turn of the wheel, one last revolution, and the night would finally come.




Bangs sounded upon the metallic door of the radio room. They were the deep, menacing kind that usually make big dents after a while and imply some bad stuff’s about to spill through. This door wasn’t going anywhere though. Sixteen inch aluminium-steel alloy, fusion modulated to atomic precision. Nothing was getting past that baby.

jjjjj ‘Are you sure we’re ok in here?’ asked Jeff, who had taken to wearing a worried frown.

jjjjj ‘Oh yes I am indeed,’ Dan said. ‘That door’s sixteen inch aluminium-steel alloy, fusion modulated to something or other.’

jjjjj ‘Sorry… “aluminium”?’ said Jeff.

jjjjj ‘Yes aluminium…’ sighed Dan. Maybe that pronunciation wasn’t what being an American was about after all. He’d probably find out soon though: there were only a couple thousand words left. ‘Either way, it’s tough as nails. And it doesn’t half give you some privacy. The way I see it, they’ll be waiting for a veeeeeeeeery long time.’

jjjjj ‘Oh… I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ Hugo grinned menacingly. ‘I say we’ll be getting together quite soon actually...’

VII

‘Accost (transitive verb): to approach and stop
somebody in order to speak to that person.’

Doomsday Dan had recently found himself on the wrong end of a hostage situation – it may be difficult to argue which is the right side of this particular scenario, but know that Dan was most definitely on the other one. The teeth of his captor braced menacingly, only inches from his neck. Jeff and Fiona stood powerlessly at the side; Jeff possessing an expression of panicked awe; Fiona puffing away a scented cloud.

jjjjjLittle they know, the DJ’s temple had met with a certain button on its decent, and once again the entire city trained its ears on the infamous pair. Most wore a look similar to Jeff’s; but somewhere out there, one listener was in the midst of laughing his arse off. And whoever they might have been, they bore an uncanny resemblance to George Orwell.

jjjjj‘Hugo!’ cried Jeff. ‘Why?!’

jjjjj ‘Oh big surprise!’ Hugo huffed. ‘It turns out the zombie was a baddie! Hardly a shocking turn of events,’

jjjjj ‘I’m actually a little surprised,’ said Dan.

jjjjj ‘Yeah, me too,’ added Jeff.

jjjjj ‘Oh really? Well that will do a rather nice job of covering up the next naff twist.’

jjjjj ‘Eugh…’ groaned Fiona. ‘There’s another twist? What does this look like to you, an Arthur Conan Doyle novel? Let me guess… the clamouring horde turns out to be a red herring.’

jjjjj ‘Don’t be preposterous… Now, enough time wasting! Open the door! Do as I say or your American friend learns what it is to be a martyr.’

jjjjj Fiona shrugged. Hugo made menacing jabs. This really wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry.

jjjjj ‘I’ll do it…’ Jeff sighed.

jjjjj The door handle was a heavy one. Sixteen inch aluminium-steel alloy if Dan was to be believed. Then again he had predicted the door would stay shut, and low and behold, here we are only a minute later and it’s being hefted open. Luckily, years of winching had given Jeff an edge over heavy vaults – especially ones that are fusion modulated. So with a heave and a grunt, the airtight panel slid from its block, and revealed an entire corridor or hungry ghouls.

jjjjj There was one face that Jeff noticed right away. In fact it was rather difficult to miss once he spied the hole in her neck that was unusually larger than most.

jjjjj ‘Suzie!’ he cried in surprise. ‘You’re the central figure!?’

jjjjj ‘You buffoon!’ she replied, storming into the room. But her voice was not directed at Jeff. ‘You were supposed to kill him and find someone else!’

jjjjj ‘Apologies… apologies, your majesty!’ said Hugo, kneeling so that his tailcoat swished about the floor. ‘But… why?’

jjjjj ‘Because he’s a complete pillock! That’s why!’ Suzie sighed. ‘Ah well… I suppose all is not lost. Why, behind me lies a compact tunnel of my minions, clamouring to devour you at any given moment.’

jjjjj Jeff looked towards Hugo; nearly four chapters of friendship bonded them together. He could hardly believe it was going to end like this.

jjjjj ‘Why, Hugo? How could you do this to us?’

jjjjj ‘Yeah,’ added Dan. ‘Didn’t you wanna find out why you could talk?’

jjjjj ‘Oh I figured that out ages ago…’

jjjjj ‘What!?’ exclaimed the humans of the room, as well as those in other rooms across the city. Even George Orwell was stumped by this point.

jjjjj ‘What’s the one thing you notice Suzie and I have in common.’

jjjjj They thought about it for a moment - even Orwell.

jjjjj ‘You’re zombies!’ shouted Dan.

jjjjj ‘You’re both foul betraying bastards!’ tried Jeff.

jjjjj ‘You both stink worse than Dan,’ stared Fiona. ‘And you’re covered in white crud.’

jjjjj ‘I think she’s got it,’ winked Hugo.

jjjjj ‘The milk made you able to talk!? You have got to be kidding me,’ said Jeff.

jjjjj ‘I told you it was naff.’

jjjjj ‘Well how did you even find out? It’s not like you ever spoke to her or anything.’

jjjjj ‘You recall I once told you about the zombie shared consciousness, and how we were all linked on a higher plane.’

jjjjj ‘I recall you saying that it didn’t work with just zombies.’

jjjjj ‘Well it doesn’t… Simplistically speaking there is no higher consciousness to latch onto. But neither Suzie nor I are zombies, remember? We are much much more. It was mere minutes after her reanimation that we discovered the cause of our humanity, and went about fulfilling a much more brain-friendly task.’

jjjjj Dan went to make a comment about their use of the word friendly, but instead found his head being brazenly introduced to the dashboard. They had met before.

jjjjj ‘That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t kill Jeff,’ said Fiona, looking as uninterested as ever.

jjjjj ‘Why you are intelligent, miss. I shall rather enjoy consuming you.’

jjjjj ‘Don’t forget your place, Charles.’ Hugo frowned at his queen, bowing his head before continuing.

jjjjj ‘Unfortunately the old drones were unable to cotton on to the notion of following the leader. We needed a human for them to pursue – bait. Bait that would lead us right here. There’s also the small matter that I might not have been one-hundred percent on the directions…’

jjjjj ‘Well that about clears everything up for the zombies’ motives,’ nodded Jeff.

jjjjj ‘Indeed,’ replied Hugo. ‘And here was me thinking they wanted nothing more than brains. Oh wait… we do!’ he laughed manically. ‘Now all that’s left is to take a bite of your pal Dan and we’ll be done with it.’

jjjjj ‘Oh, I don’t think so… pal.’




There are lots of ways a shift of power can occur. For politicians it could be an unruly populace. For football-players it could be the inevitable own goal that occurs while the goalie is tying his shoelaces. But nothing says “I’m in control, now lump it," like a good old fashioned Smith & Wesson Model 29. And lucky for the powerless, this is precisely what was clutched in the hands of Daniel Cooper, voice of Manchester. It was all very Dirty Harry.

jjjjj ‘Seems to me you could have done that earlier, Dan,’ said Jeff. But the DJ was having none of it.

jjjjj Despite Hugo’s objective pessimism, Suzie’s smirk was still set upon her bloodless lips. She had the air of a ghoul with an ace up her sleeve, or perhaps an even larger gun. In this case, her particular trump happened to be the allegiance of a thousand undead.

jjjjj ‘You think you have anywhere to go?’ she mocked. ‘Do you think I even care for the lives of these insignificant drones? This room is sealed, and with it, your fate…’

jjjjj ‘Ooo… that was a good one.’

jjjjj ‘Tear them limb from limb.’

jjjjj The horde piled forwards as a sixteen inch aluminium-steel door looked on helplessly. His agent had requested a fortune to get him into the finale. Oh well… it thought. I suppose you’ve got to work your way up to airlock. Especially the kind that eject aliens into space. Dan Cooper had no sympathy for the gaping panel, but then again why should he? At the moment he was more focused on his moment of glory, and the daunting eventually of a one liner.

jjjjj Hugo made a lunge. Dan fired a shot. The zombie’s brains retreated to the back of the room, showing a blatant disregard for his torso. Hugo’s body fell to the ground.

jjjjj ‘Cheerio… old chap,’ Dan said, trying on his best impression.

jjjjj ‘I would have gone with, “the only thing you’ll be biting is dust,”’ said Jeff.

jjjjj ‘And that’s why you didn’t get the part.’

jjjjj Dan took to his feet and fired a few shots into the crowd. Suzie’s forehead might have received a friend for her trachea, but a ghoul was dragged in the bullet’s path. Head chunks splattered across her in an overly gory, unquestionably distasteful manner. The horde marched on.

jjjjj The radio room was air-tight. There wasn’t a door, rope or conveniently placed ladder that could save them now. The situation seemed hopeless; and Dan was well aware that being the guy with the gun in an advancing wall of zombies rarely ends well. Also his ears were starting to hurt a bit.

jjjjj ‘I’d say now would be a good time to leave,’ he said to the others, who had been waiting patiently to do so.

jjjjj Old Smithy swung around, missing nary a noggin in its particular arc; yet when the shot rang out it was followed by the diverse shattering of glass. A large hole had been introduced to one side of the studio. The window from which Dan had received many stern looks over the years was now spread across the floor of the next room. It was through this passage that our heroes took flight.




‘Which way?’ cried Jeff, as they slammed into the stairwell, undead hot on their tail.

jjjjj ‘We can’t go to the roof! We already used the Alan Rickman bit!’

jjjjj ‘Well the entrance is completely sealed off…’

jjjjj ‘What about the pitch?’ suggested Fiona, a menthol cloud hovering in her wake. ‘We could make a joke about the offside rule!’

jjjjj ‘But you wouldn’t possibly get it…’

jjjjj Jeff was met with a solid whack to the head.

jjjjj ‘There’s no choice,’ said Dan. ‘We’ll just have to wing it.’




The Old Trafford grass swayed loftily in the breeze, towering well above regulation height due to the zombification of the gamekeeper. Vegetable gardens had been planted in the penalty area of both teams; which may seem like the worst possible location for them, but there you go. It was a sight no Man U fan wants to behold. But perhaps most harrowing of all, were the spectators.

jjjjj Every seat from A to Z was filled. Red shirts filled the house, with not one Man United logo in sight. This lot was not as rowdy as the usual crowd, nor were they as frightening – but if one thing could be said to their credit, it’s that each of their heartbeats rested on an unsettling 0 per minute.

jjjjj Suzie Morningham stepped onto the pitch. It would be the same shot they use to film the teams coming out of the locker room, only in slow-motion, and with an accompanying choir singing in E minor. Just a little menacing, but with a nice medieval lilt to it. Then the helicopter would sweep in for some faux-news footage and that would be a wrap.

jjjjj ‘As you can see, there is nowhere to run. Hand over Daniel, and you will save yourself a couple minutes of breathing.’

jjjjj ‘I’d actually prefer to breathe a little longer if I’m honest,’ voiced Jeff.

jjjjj ‘Same,’ added Dan, who had made a point of being out of ammo.

jjjjj ‘Very well. If you hand him over peacefully I will smear you in rotten milk before you are consumed.’

jjjjj ‘It’s sad, but that’s the best offer I’ve had all day…’

jjjjj Suzie stepped closer. Jeff moved to block her. The goalie tended potatoes and was generally minding his own business.

jjjjj ‘If that’s the way you would have it,’ she said.

jjjjj The queen of the undead wrapped her decaying hands around Jeff’s wrist, drawing cinematically closer for that final, damning bite. Jeff, taking something of an objection to this, wrenched back his arm with the power only seven hours winching a day can endow.

jjjjj Suzie toppled forward and clattered upon the floor. Jeff made a thought of shouting, ‘Yellow card!’ but decided against it. His nemesis bore her teeth for a sneaky chomp of the leg, only to be intercepted and belted towards the top-left hand corner. Of course she didn’t nearly make it that far, but who had expected her to?

jjjjj ‘Bah.’ She wiped a trickle of coagulating blood from her mouth. ‘You cannot possibly beat the undead in hand to hand.’

jjjjj ‘Oh yeah?’ replied Jeff, swinging fifty-five pages of forearm references directly into the lady’s snoz.

jjjjj There was a crunch, a splat, a crackle and a snap – and in that precise order. What remained of Suzie Morningham lay sprawled across the centre mark. None could dispute it was a first round knockout, but that made the football thing seem a bit inappropriate: so they kept their mouths shut.

jjjjj ‘Offside!’ called Fiona, who had secretly been dying for a one liner.

jjjjj ‘Women …’ Jeff rolled his eyes, receiving a whack as punishment.

jjjjj The crowd didn’t seem all too happy about this sudden turn of events. With their connection to leadership severed, they retained their usual shambling personality and began to, you guessed it, shamble right on over to those on the pitch.

jjjjj ‘I think it’s about time we left…’ said Dan.

jjjjj ‘How? Everywhere’s packed!’

jjjjj ‘Oh, I think I have an idea.’

The helicopter’s camera focused in on the waving trio. Not that they needed to wave: this camera had a fusion modulated zoom function for the detection of crime on a sub-atomic level. And besides all that, the pilot was already on his way over for a stern chat.

jjjjj ‘Oy! Twat!’ he shouted at Jeff.

jjjjj ‘What you think your doing, giving the old hokee-cokey, how’s your mother, this ain’t Sunday to our boss? Ey?’

jjjjj ‘Excuse me?’ said a flabbergasted Jeff, hair flapping beneath the sweep of copter blades, zombies closing in all around.

jjjjj ‘That’s our boss, mate,’ he pointed to the headless corpse. ‘She hired us, and by the way I see it, you owe us a fair bit of cash.’

jjjjj ‘I’ll pay you if you get us out of here,’ Jeff suggested.

jjjjj ‘Suits me. Phil! Take her up!’

jjjjj The trio scrambled into the chopper just as the first undead fingers got a hold of it. But before you could say Jack and Jill, spend-a-penny, leave-a-penny, they were off in the air showing clouds what 240rpm really means.

jjjjj ‘So where you boys off to?’ asked Dan.

jjjjj ‘The BBC station in Liverpool,’ replied the pilot. ‘TV licenses went a bit bung-end come the apocalypse, so it gets most of its dosh filming exciting stories like yours.’

jjjjj ‘Exciting stories? Did you know rotten milk was a major plot point?’

jjjjj ‘So I heard, mate.’

jjjjj ‘Works for me,’ grinned Dan. ‘So what are you two gonna do?’

jjjjj ‘Well, I was hoping that Fiona and I might rigorously and mercilessly accost one another at some point.’

jjjjj ‘Jeff, do you even know what accost means?’

jjjjj Jeff looked it up. He wasn’t happy.

jjjjj ‘Oh… well in that case I guess I’ll come with you then. Do you think they’ll have any milk at the BBC?’

jjjjj ‘Just skimmed.’