28 Days Late

1

‘Regardless of circumstance, it is imperative that you
taunt a fallen opponent.'

A late winter sun hung above the Liverpool Sea, shimmering down upon its tranquil waves with an intensity reserved for the complete destruction of the ozone layer. Cancerous rays cascaded off the Mersey waters, brining to light the decaying ruin at the shore. The streets were regulated by the hustle and bustle of a thousand undead hands clawing at the brains of the living in a very picturesque-manner. There was not a cloud in the sky or breath of wind upon which the stench of death could be carried. Armageddon was feeling pretty good about itself right now. But all things considered, Jeff Capell was having himself a rather rough day.

jjjj‘Oof,’ he said.

jjjjIt wasn’t like Jeff to be punched: but recently the occasion seemed to be creeping up on him more and more. And in his considered opinion, it was becoming something of a nuisance.

jjjjThe bodyguard to whom Jeff owed this pleasure was named Murray; and Murray’s employer was none other than the highly esteemed Daniel Bower: Director, Chairman and all around head-honcho of BBC Liverpool. In fairness, it was not Jeff’s idea that he should receive a sound thrashing, nor was it his fault. Once again he found himself to be the bloody victim of circumstance. You punch through one sentient zombie’s brain and suddenly you’re on the naughty list. Sometimes the world just makes no sense at all…

jjjj ‘Mr Capell,’ said the Director, chomping a Turkish cigar in a manner above purpose. ‘Do you know how long it’s been?’

jjjj Jeff shrugged defiantly. It seemed the right thing to do, despite granting him another stone fist to the abdomen.

jjjj ‘A month. A whole month.’

jjjj ‘Well to be fair, February is the shortest month. By May standards you’d have no grounds whatsoever,’ Jeff replied, receiving an overcooked knuckle-sandwich for the effort.

jjjj ‘Regardless, you have not supplied sufficient payment for your helicopter rental four weeks ago. Therefore I feel it is time to move forward.’

jjjj ‘And I would very much like to join you. However, and I feel it is my obligation as a citizen in debt to point this out, you often refute my attempts at repayment as worthless,’ Jeff said thoughtfully. Murray made no such effort, and replied in the thuggish manner to which his pay-check is owed.

jjjj ‘Money is worthless. No more banks means no more money,’ the Director explained to the whimpering heap on his carpet. ‘What I require of you is something much more practical. How would you like to become a reporter?’

jjjj ‘A reporter?’ This did not fulfil the punch criteria. Murray frowned like a kid whose ice-cream had just taken a dirt nap.

jjjj ‘Oh go on then…’ said the Director.

jjjj‘Oof,’ said Jeff.

jjjj ‘You’d be looking for stories of great human interest. Real hero stuff like your own previous adventures. Catch them in the act. Pure unscripted action. Real uplifting stuff.’

jjjj ‘So you mean when they’re at their most dangerous?’

jjjj ‘That’s one way of looking at it. But who knows, maybe even liven things up a bit by getting yourself involved! Look at Phil in your story. Just went along for some footage, saved the day! Now he’s got a place in the next Harry Potter novel!’

jjjj Jeff decided against pointing out the flaws in the Director’s sentence. He had digestion to think about… which made his alternative choice of words seem slightly bizarre.

jjjj ‘And if I refuse?’

jjjj He was referred to the burly man who had become rather acquainted with his kidneys as of late. Murray was one of those barrel-armed, barrel-chested, all round barrel type folks you’re sure Donkey Kong would have a field day with but are too smart to say anything about. Far from being barrel-faced, Murray was actually quite the looker. But unfortunately Jeff had already formed a relationship with the man, and it didn’t look like they would become romantic any time soon.

jjjj Jeff weighed his options. Not that it helped any; but he always thought it would be nice if it did, seeing as all of the world’s problems could be solved with the introduction of a very large stone. Sadly, the office was bereft of boulders, and thus our man was forced to comply.

jjjj ‘Excellent!’ cried Mr Bower, who possessed a keen talent for reading between the lines. ‘You have one week. Remember: it has to be sensational! Uplifting! Dramatic! Well... you get the idea. And if you don’t…’

jjjj Mr Bower nodded towards Karl.

jjjj ‘It’s Murray, sir.’

jjjj ‘So it is.’

jjjj Jeff was pitched from the office in the time honoured manner of a drunk. Tradition dictated that as he gathered himself from the floor and went about removing the dust which congregates around such areas, a person in Jeff’s position should immediately make an aggressive demand for his hat. But because he hadn’t been wearing one or seen any worth stealing, the newly promoted journalist decided to let this custom slide. Murray wasn’t quite prepared for this, and ended up hurling a head cap anyway.

jjjj Here was a fine number; looked like a trilby. Soft, narrow brim, deeply indented crown and just a tiny pinch at the front. Jeff may not have been an expert of cranial accessories: he had always believed there were better things to gain proficiency in, but this was definitely a number worth holding on to. So hold onto it he did.

jjjj Now suitably attired in the noggin department, the reporter took to his current conundrum. First of all he would have to find a story that was stirring, sensational, spectacular, seasonal… and satirical? Alright, so maybe he wasn’t quite so good at the pitch; but what with all the troubles going on in the world there was bound to be something interesting going on somewhere…




The BBC hadn’t been affected by the holocaust as much as everybody would have thought. It was true numbers were down, but percentages were way up! Besides all that, they had finally smitten the advert-spewing rot box that was formerly referred to as ‘Sky.’ Once again they possessed an unchallenged empire. They were infallible behemoths amongst the broadcasting gods. Nay… there were God.

jjjj Around the country, the lights and sounds of the usual introduction began to play. Red rings emanated from a decaying, glassy earth as terrifying bleeps replicated the last pulses of a human heart, a dying machine, or perhaps the final ticking of a time bomb. It was a horrifying event that inspired fear in millions. It was the BBC news.

jjjj ‘Hello, you’re watching BBC News with Fiona Mayes and Doomsday Dan,’ said a small beardy man whose facial hair no longer wound above his ears in a uniform grin. ‘Today the ongoing coverage of the Super Zombie phenomenon that has been sweeping the nation: latest reports are in Newcastle. We had a reporter in the field but have been regrettably informed that his brains were consumed.’

jjjj ‘This is the news that Super Zombies have been appearing more and more frequently ever since our own incident only weeks ago,’ said the more attractive of the two. ‘Luckily, as I’m sure most of you are aware, Dan and I were able to escape due to the assistance of a BBC news-chopper. However, the attack has left Old Trafford crippled and Manchester city without a local broadcasting station.’

jjjj ‘Today’s instance is the fourth reported example of a zombie tactical siege and if trends continue, this may well be the end of us all. For now we have an expert on the supposed cause of this intelligence: Dr Sydney Langdon working from his underground lair not too far away from the studio. Hello Sydney.’

jjjj The man on screen wouldn’t have looked too out of place if he had wandered onto the set of Hammer Horror. He was a small wiry fellow from the same school of balding as Dan. White puffs emerged from atop the scientist’s ears, which had hooked about them a thick pair of specs that told you this chap wasn’t going to last until the end of chapter three. Once upon a time he had spoken with the same pronounced accent as Dr Strangelove, but gave it up after people started getting suspicious.

jjjj ‘Hello Dan. It’s good to be here.’

jjjj ‘So what can you tell us about what makes these Super Zombies tick?’

jjjj ‘Well Dan, as we already know, it occurs after the introduction of spoilt dairy to the ghoul in question. You see, when a zombie is infected, the synaptic nerve linking to the “higher thoughts” of a human being is disabled, leaving only instinct and rage. Dairy, when soured, secretes a fume - as anyone who has been around it knows. Now what this fume does is dissolve the synaptic block through a system of pro-moderate fusion modulation… essentially, allowing limited access to cognitive abilities.’

jjjj ‘Is that right?’ nodded a straight-faced Dan, pretending he knew what the hell was being said.

jjjj ‘That is what we have been led to believe, yes.’

jjjj ‘So is there any advice you can give?’

jjjj ‘Well first and foremost would be to not hurl anomalous cartons out of the window, whatever your intentions may be.’

jjjj ‘Thanks very much, Sydney. We’ll talk to you later.’

jjjj ‘And now,’ said the co-host, ‘leather: has the time of the highway warrior finally come? We’ll find out in an extensive report.’




Jeff fretted up and down the corridor as he felt somebody wearing a trilby should. He paced and he muttered, he wondered and spluttered, but stumbled upon no conclusions. This might have been because Jeff wasn’t in search of answers, and if he was then this particular five meters of hallway wasn’t particularly enlightening.

jjjj The corridor was as long as it was uninteresting – and it was a long corridor. Really, it wouldn’t have been worth describing were it not for the necessity to kill time. Luckily, Jeff caught a reflection of himself through the door of a far, far more interesting room. It had trampolines and everything.

jjjj By most accounts Jeff was a handsome chap, as they always are. Chiselled jaw, defined cheekbone, aquiline nose. He had the full package. His was a body that would keep you up at night, whisper sweet nothings and then disappear the next morning with nothing so much as a note. Oddly Jeff had never looked like this in previous descriptions… It was almost as though he’d gotten to style himself this time around. And style he had.

jjjjHe possessed the rugged manliness one would expect of an Apocalypse survivor; but was elegantly counter-balanced by the trim sophistication of a person sporting a trilby. Apart from the mismatched hat and office attire, the only true oddity of Jeff’s appearance were his forearms, which had been toned into gladiatorial proportions though a past life spent winching for electricity.

jjjj‘Eureka!’ he cried, having come to no immediate conclusion. Instead, it was the open door he applauded – or rather, the one passing through it.

jjjj ‘Hey Jeff,’ said the passing newsreader. ‘Nice trilby.’

jjjj ‘Dan! I need your help.’

jjjj ‘Look… there’s no semi-skimmed and there’s nothing we can do about that. Company policy is all.’

jjjj ‘No… not that. This is about the helicopter rental.’

jjjj Dan raised an inquisitive brow. ‘You met Murray? Is that how you got the hat?’

jjjj ‘Yeah, we exchanged pleasantries,’ Jeff rubbed his kidneys. ‘But I think I’ve finally got a way out.’

jjjj ‘Hey, that’s good news! So shoot.’

jjjj ‘I’ve become a reporter.’

jjjj The American’s face dropped, proceeded to the first floor, sought the nearest tube station, and began digging.

jjjj ‘That’s not great, Jeff. You know what happens to most reporters.’

jjjj ‘Yeah, but look at me. I’m a heroic kind of guy with a talent for saving the day, kicking ass and getting the girl.’

jjjj ‘Phil did all those things! Why do you think he’s the one with the part in the next Harry Potter?’

jjjj ‘But I’ve got a trilby!’ Jeff made beckoning motions with his hand. Dan’s expression shifted to a blend of uncertainty and admiration. He was no expert, but it was a fine hat. ‘Come on Dan… just one story then I’m out for good.’

jjjj ‘Well… ok. But only because of the hat. I heard the guys in Lancaster had to fend off a bunch of the Manchester horde recently. Maybe they’ll have a good story.’

jjjj ‘That’ll do nicely, Dan,’ said Jeff, taking to his heels and setting course for the roof.

jjjjThe newsreader stared curiously after his departing co-worker. Jeff seemed to have changed somehow… It was almost as if he’d gotten to choose his own appearance this time around. He would have to see makeup about that.

jjjj ‘Notice he kept the forearms though,’ he mused, heading in the direction of Mr Bower’s office in search of a new hat.

2

‘Make sure to check all locks before and after sex.
While procreation is important, your chance of survival is
reduced by up to 80%'

Armageddon had finally straightened itself out. Tie knotted in a perfunctory Windsor, cufflinks spat on to the point of gleaming. Here was a Doomsday to be hung upon the mantle, baby-pictures of Genesis grinning smugly to one side. The world was so cute back then. Remember that time it got into the apples? Those were the days.

jjjjjLiverpool was a lightless city. Ash hovered about the night air as a sordid curtain. The ruins of the city were behaving as such. And somewhere through the mist came the undisputable moan of the undead. It was a scene that would break even the most hardened of survivors, prompting them home in search of a warm blanket and a nice cuddle.

jjjjjAnna had no home. She didn’t even have a blanket come to think about it. In fact, there was very little besides stunning good looks and a fab pair of heels that she did possess. Anna was one of those wasteland warriors: those scavenging rogues that have become synonymous with Mel Gibson and Kevin Costner. She could kill without the faintest bat of an eyelid. She would sup guiltlessly from the discarded skull of an old acquaintance. And she hadn’t brushed her teeth in days.

jjjjj There are two schools of thought when it comes to the leather-bound apocalypse: the first is that of the mohawked dominatrix clad in spiked hockey pads. These are the ones you’d best avoid – raping and killing and all manner of unsavoury things. Thankfully Anna belonged to a more virtuous lot: those with lavish long legs, ruby red lips and just a touch of the amnesia to complete the package. Nobody knew where she had picked up the skin-tight ensemble, or where she acquired deadly kung-fu skills – all that’s certain is that she was the stuff of box office gold. Which is unfortunate, considering the boxes hadn’t lasted long.

jjjjj A thick four-inch heel struck the earth, which was passive by nature and did very little in response. The same could not be said for a certain pair of nearby predators. These were a vicious lot: self proclaimed rulers of the ash and masters of the ambush. It was only through sheer perplexity that they ceased their efforts to remain hidden.

jjjjj ‘Look at that, Jethro. She’s found herself some of those expensive leather heels that would be utterly useless in the zombie apocalypse.’

jjjjj Anna’s attention was immediately brought to an ambiguous rock that had previously evaded mention. It was a real rock: a man’s rock. Jagged around the edges and not too safe to climb on. This right here was a rock that would do nicely in the weighing of options. As for the speaker, she could see no trace.

jjjjj ‘You’re right, Molam. And one of those ridiculous leather ensembles that’s devoid of any sporting affiliation whatsoever,’ came a second eager voice.

jjjjj Anna’s head darted amongst the stone, although not literally of course. All she upturned were bodies and bones. The speakers echoed like an incantation, clinging only to the periphery of her perceptions, when in fact the two had simply rigged up surround sound to the area.

jjjjj ‘Do you think we should have her?’ said the voice that was Molam.

jjjjj ‘I do actually. Let’s.’

jjjjj Suddenly a sweeping sensation snatched Anna from the floor, flipping her at breakneck speak and leaving her suspended within a previously invisible net. The world looked no better from this angle; in fact it might have even looked worse. This perception wasn’t helped by the appearance of two mohawk sporting psychopaths.

jjjjj ‘Look, Molam,’ said Jethro, giving his captive an interrogative prod of the stick. ‘This one seems to have graduated from the skin-tight school of leather.’

jjjjj ‘You’re right, Jethro! Did you know that I once applied to such a place? Never stuck it through in the end.’

jjjjj ‘Through no fault of your own, I would imagine.’

jjjjj ‘You would imagine correctly. I always found the outfit to be rather vulgar.’

jjjjj ‘More vulgar than the rape and murder you did so happily perform before?’

jjjjj ‘Steady on… I was only following tradition. Besides, I always found the alternative a little tight about the crotch.’

jjjjj ‘Ah…’ said Jethro, with a way of worldly wisdom. ‘The crotch, is it? They’d have a lot more blokes enrolled if it weren’t for that, no doubt.’

jjjjj ‘Right so. But then again who are we to question custom? To tell you the truth I was always more of a la-cross player.’ The Mohawk gave a wave of his hockey stick. Anna stared on in bafflement. ‘I suppose that wouldn’t make so much of a weapon though.’

jjjjj ‘Quite right. So do you propose we should tuck in then? All this speculation has given me something of an appetite.’

jjjjj Anna swung in silence, contemplating the demise of these two lowly goons. Molam reached into his jacket and produced a mean looking blade.

jjjjj ‘Shall I carve?’

jjjjj ‘It would be my honour.’

jjjjj The pink haired one approached - a deviant grin spreading cheek to cheek as he raised his blade in anticipation of the first cut. Anna smiled in response. Hers was one of sunny magnitude that utterly baffled the oncoming wastelander, but did nothing to reduce his enjoyment.

jjjjj ‘So what’s you’re name then?’ enquired the barbarous chef. Anna continued to grin sweetly.

jjjjj ‘Not a talker, ey? Well I’m Molam, and this is Jethro. You might have heard of us. We’re wasteland wandering extraordinaires. We’re the ones with that little set-up at the Apollo. A reality show where ghouls meet live members of the public.’

jjjjj ‘All the world’s a stage…’ grinned the other, raising a dramatic hand skywards.

jjjjj ‘And perhaps we have a new player, Jethro.’

jjjjj ‘My sentiments exactly.’ Anna smirked in grim anticipation. ‘Unless of course the hunger gets too great.’

jjjjj Molam conferred another prod of the stick. ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ he said.

jjjjj ‘Grr,’ said Anna, smiling widely.

jjjjj ‘Er, Jethro… she just grr’d at me.’

jjjjj ‘Well grr back then,’ replied the wastelander, preparing the business end of an even stouter stick.

jjjjj ‘Grrrrrraaaaarrrrrghhh…’

jjjjj ‘Good show, Molam.’

jjjjj ‘Not me, Jethro.’

jjjjj ‘Ah… then perhaps it’s time we exit stage left.’

jjjjj Two mohawks bobbed into the night ash, and that is the last we shall see of them for now. However, much to Anna’s disappointment, the owner of the Grargh chose not to follow in their stead, preferring instead to opt for the catch of the day.

jjjjj But Anna was determined to end up as an entirely different fishing cliché, and fetched from her person what most Australians would confidently identify as a knife. The net put up a fierce fight to be sure, but it wasn’t long before the arse of this particular stunner was forcefully reintroduced to the floor - which came as something of a disappointment to her because she’d paid a king’s ransom for the outfit. Oh well. Not the end of the world.

jjjjj ‘Braaaaaaaainssss,’ moaned a nearby creature; though it was actually pondering the futility of existence. There wasn’t much left in this human fuel. Green energy was the way of the future. He had tried explaining to his peers that husbandry was a dire necessity, but some people are just so difficult to communicate with!

jjjjj Anna faced the shambling ghoul, face set in sadistic joy, knife poised for the strike. She had twelve years of Jujitsu under her tight leather belt, and a waist to pull it off. The zombie thought little about tactics, pondering only the futility of their collective existence.

jjjjj ‘Braaaaaaaaaains…’ it said sagely.

jjjjj ‘Ahh,’ said Anna. ‘Now should do nicely.’ And with a flourish of the foot, the zombies head became one with the earth.

The BBC news-chopper floated gently through the sky, which was impressive considering the ferocity with which the blades hacked the air. Lancaster’s finest pastures passed dolefully below. The cattle had long since jumped fence, seeking new and exciting exploits in foreign lands – or perhaps they had just been eaten. It was difficult to tell. The city below was bereft of anything that defined life, but it had not yet been completely destroyed. Jeff couldn’t even be sure they were in the right place until they touched down on the rim of Lancaster Hospital.

jjjjj ‘Oy, oy, oy!’ cried the survivors’ ambassador, rushing to the impromptu landing pad with his arms flailing like a panicked linesman. ‘No landing on the roof! What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

jjjjj ‘I’m a reporter with the BBC,’ said Jeff, stepping from the bird with a quick flash of identification. The man’s face stopped, dropped, and rolled in precisely the way Jeff hoped it wouldn’t.

jjjjj ‘Then stay the hell away from here. We all know what happens to reporters.’ Jeff didn’t, but was quite content with assuming for now.

jjjjj ‘Well you’ve just dealt with the last of the Manchester Horde. I’m sure you can handle whatever trouble’s coming my way.’ The Lancasterite looked sceptical, but a visual sweep of his proud defences quickly affirmed the statement.

jjjjj ‘Well what would we get out of it?’ said the old man.

jjjjj ‘Fame? You’d become immortalised as people who stood up in moments of great adversity, overcoming the odds to save the day…’

jjjjj ‘So nothing useful.’

jjjjj ‘Not really, no.’

jjjjj The man put a hand to his hairless chin and gave it a good thoughtful rub.

jjjjj ‘What about cash?’

jjjjj ‘Hmmm…’ said Jeff, mimicking his client despite not having much to think about. ‘Two-thousand.’

jjjjj ‘I won’t go a penny above five-thousand.’

jjjjj ‘Four?’

jjjjj ‘Deal.’ The two exchanged shakes. ‘Name’s Bill. I used to be a doctor.’

jjjjj ‘That’s funny. I used to be a dentist. I’m Jeff. So where shall we get to talking?’

jjjjj ‘I won’t say a word until the chopper has shifted it,’ huffed Bill, gesturing towards the positively roaring whirlybird.

jjjjj ‘Take her up, Phil!’ shouted Jeff, miming rotaries with his finger. The pilot was less than happy, but took off nonetheless, privately mumbling something about leaving them all behind for Hogwarts.

jjjjj Two measures of whiskey were dutifully splashed across a wooden table. Bill knocked his down in one. Jeff went about setting up the video camera.

jjjjj Here was a dark looking room: once the Chief of Medicine’s office, now a hectic base of operations. Illegible blueprints covered the wall. Hastily drawn battle-plans and do-it yourself procedurals were attached to a board supporting more pins than a highly ineffective hand-grenade. Disused shot-glasses and coffee mugs punctuated the over-packed desk, which was otherwise covered in weapons, ammunition, and most importantly: the Civilian’s Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse.

jjjjj This was the modern Holy Bible. The thing that you either had to live by, or die without. Never had such an important book been penned before this. Ironically, not many people had needed it until the Great Blackout. So despite the book’s popularity amongst looters, the author had to go and live penniless amongst the trees. It seemed like the sensible thing to do.

jjjjj ‘So what can I do for you, Jeffery?’ said Bill, helping himself to another measure of the good stuff.

jjjjj‘Just tell me your story. At least the epic parts.’

jjjjj ‘Do you want the sex, or just the killing?’ grinned the old man. Jeff thought about this; though he would have preferred not to.

jjjjj ‘Both… So long as they’re mutually exclusive.’

jjjjj ‘All right then. Well the way I remember it, it all started around twenty days ago. We had already heard from Fiona Mayes’ Mayday Report that a bunch of those mindless bastards were headed our way, so we were being extra careful with our shifts and defences. Wasn’t a thing in the world that could catch us unaware then… at least we didn’t think so.

jjjjj ‘Couple of nights later we hear this racket kicking off and figure it’s just another survivor off to meet his maker. Unlucky for us, this one was determined not to go down without a fight; and next thing we know he’s banging on our doorsteps, yelling at the top of his lungs. What else were we supposed to do?’

jjjjj ‘So you let him in?’ Jeff asked, pen hovering above a blank notebook. Bill nodded.

jjjjj ‘We watched him of course. We’re not idiots. Besides, he had a wound that looked a lot like a bite mark. He said he bust it on the door, but we all knew the truth. Also, he was covered in this white-crud. Didn’t register that until later though, for obvious reasons.

jjjjj ‘Later that night he fell asleep in a sealed room. I watched over him, expecting to cap the bloke when he came to. Then BAM!’ The old timer slammed his glass against the desk, whiskey flew out in all directions. ‘He’s talking as clear as you or me. We let him loose. If he hadn’t changed by then, it wasn’t going to happen. So when the horde finally shows up, we stick him on a gun.

jjjjj That’s when he turns out to be a little more bitey than we first thought. Takes out damn near half the team. Lucky we had a running gag involving turpentine or we’d never have gotten rid of him. As it was, big climactic finale, large explosion, and Bob’s your uncle. End of Story.’

jjjjj Jeff leaned back against the uncomfortable neck of his chair, his pen still a stranger to paper. It was remarkable. The similarities to his own story were amazing: from the treacherous zombie to the way they beat it. This titbit Jeff kept to himself, knowing full well the account would be worth more untainted.

jjjjj ‘Sounds like a good enough story for me,’ said the rookie reporter, thrusting a blank notepad into his satchel. ‘I’ll just speak to the others for verification and then I’ll be on my way.’

jjjjj ‘And the four thousand pounds?’

jjjjj ‘Will be yours,’ said Jeff, who was yet to consider how he might come about such quantities of useless cash.

jjjjj ‘Well in that case you don’t need verification from the others. We’ve got the whole lot on film. We were going to broadcast it ourselves, but now that you’re here we might as well not bother. Cinematic quality this is. We’ve even got a choir in the background for some of it. Weird they’d show up, but there you go…’

jjjjj Jeff was never one to question good fortune: but as it had so often turned around and taken a great chunk of his arse it seemed like a trait he should have developed by now. As it was, the ominous warnings that come with such good favour were firmly tucked besides the notepad. Glasses were filled. Cheers were exchanged. And that, as they say, was a wrap.

3

‘Script? Script!? I don’t need a stinking script!
Do you know who I am!?'

Back in Liverpool the clouds had taken their usual form and were brooding darkly above the city. Acid-rain fell with an extraordinary likeness to household pets, dulling the proud statues which kept vigil over St George’s Hall. Despite the fact this potent downfall would eventually decay the zombies and save the human race, most Bretonnians still acknowledged the weather with a good long moan. Karl the bodyguard was amongst these, though for very different reasons.

jjjjJeff Capell stood before the BBC Director’s desk with precisely no reason to be struck. On the contrary, he had done his job well and he had done it fast. Once again proving that the carrot is most effective when attached to the end of a very broad stick.

jjjj‘So you’re saying you got this from Lancaster,’ said Mr Bower, casting a keen eye over his newly acquired package.

jjjj‘Yep. They had it pre-filmed and everything.’

jjjj ‘Even the choir?’

jjjj Jeff nodded gravely. It was not beyond his experience to suspect supernatural tinkering in the ether.

jjjj ‘So what you’re saying is that you relieved an outpost of their footage, and expect four-thousand pounds for the effort. Which, might I remind you, you all already in debt.’

jjjj Jeff nodded a second time, gravity holding steady. This could have had something to do with Karl, who had taken to rubbing two lumbering hands together as if trying to evoke fire from between them.

jjjj ‘Please tell me why I shouldn’t just kill you now.’

jjjj ‘Well… you did say money was worthless,’ Jeff offered. ‘Besides, it’s really bang up footage.’

jjjj ‘But it’s not your footage. Did you assume we used to send reporters out into the world with nothing more than a grappling hook and a lockpick? No. We sent them out with video cameras and notebooks.’

jjjj ‘I know but liste—’

jjjj ‘Murray?’

jjjj ‘Karl.’

jjjj ‘So it is.’

jjjj ‘Oof.’

jjjj ‘Anything else?’ said the Director.

jjjj ‘Well I think there’s another story to be found in this…’ ventured Jeff, rubbing his stomach. ‘This account’s almost exactly the same as mine. Everything about it. Even the choir!’

jjjj ‘So? Perhaps you’re just terrible at finding stories.’

jjjj ‘No… I think this is something bigger. There have been more and more super zombie attacks happening recently. It could be related. I think they’re planning something big!’

jjjj Mr Bower’s face was set in a grim frown. Jeff didn’t like where this was going. His suspicions were quickly confirmed by the burley bodyguard and his bronze first. Jeff nursed his breakfast. Karl smiled cheerfully, stroking his hand like a kitten.

jjjj ‘If we didn’t have so many missing reporters, and you didn’t owe me such a large sum of cash, I must admit I would be very reluctant to work with you again. I didn’t ask for a conspiracy theory. I wanted action! So go out there and bring me action or so help me God I’ll tie you to a pole and dangle you from the walls!’

jjjj The meeting ended with that. It probably could have gone better. Jeff was ejected head first into the corridor by a grinning hulk. Bruised ego, wallet, and bum, our hero did what anybody would have done.

jjjj ‘I believe I had a hat!’ he cried, as his beloved trilby whistled through the door.




Daniel Cooper sat in the BBC news makeup room, being fussed about by all the carriage that normally fills the place. Poms and puffs and powders batted him from every side, filling the air with a thick white cloud of cosmetics. Dan seemed to have changed since his last appearance. He had somehow acquired the full bag of tricks: chiselled jaw, defined cheek bone, aquatic nose. He was nothing short of a stunner.

jjjj His beard surged forth like a rugged Robinson Crusoe, more than making up for the slight deficiency topside. His features were etched to perfection and glistening pectorals shimmered in the harsh light above the mirror. Dan admired his reflection and winked, as if to say, ‘Damn right.’

jjjj Suddenly the door flung open, white powder making good its escape. The frame that stood within the frame was none other than Jeff Capell: hero, reporter, and by all sound reasoning, corpse.

jjjj ‘Hey there, Dan.’

jjjj ‘Little busy here.’

jjjj ‘I need your help on another story.’

jjjj The anchor shooed away those fretting at him and turned to face his friend.

jjjj ‘Another story? I’m still surprised you survived the first! How could Bower possible ask you to do another?’

jjjj ‘He said it wasn’t action-packed enough.’ The anchor stared interrogatively. Jeff’s eyes sought a point of distance. His shoes slid guiltily across the floor. ‘And I might have offered someone another four-thousand pounds…’

jjjj ‘I knew it!’ cried Dan, offering his arms to the sky. ‘You never did know when to quit.’

jjjj ‘Well what can I say? I’m a heroic kind of guy with a talent for saving the day, kicking ass and getting the girl.’

jjjj ‘That’s very inspiring, Jeff; if not a little suspect. But I’m still not helping.’

jjjj ‘Come on…’ Jeff lowered his voice to a bare whisper. ‘I think the super zombies are planning something. The story in Lancaster was almost exactly the same as ours.’

jjjj ‘Hmm… you think the super zombies are planning something? Wow… that’s almost as surprising as a zombie turning out to be the bad guy.’

jjjj ‘Hey now!’ pointed Jeff. ‘That was really cleverly set up!’

jjjj ‘Either way, I’m still not helping. If you want to get yourself killed then that’s fine by me. I’m not having a part in it.’

jjjj ‘Well fine!’ shouted Jeff, turning from his former friend. ‘Then I’m taking these back!’

jjjj The double door closed on a small beardy man who was bereft of any attributes fitting of Robinson Crusoe - with the possible exception of smell.

jjjj ‘Bastard…’ Dan muttered, as distraught makeup staff flocked all around.

jjjj Jeff was back to pacing in the corridor. It was the same long and uninteresting corridor as before. Somebody had attempted to liven up the place by introducing a houseplant; but so far this had failed miserably. Jeff spent a long time in this place, contemplating his next lead, when eventually one came straight for him.

jjjj ‘Jeff…’ said Fiona Mayes, accosting the man in a manner some might describe as rigorous. ‘I think I have what you want.’

jjjj This was enough to stop Jeff in his tracks. In fact, there was very little besides a broken belt that prevented his trousers from meeting the carpet there and then.

jjjj ‘You do?’

jjjj ‘Dan told me about your situation,’ she said, looking grave.

jjjj ‘He did?’

jjjj ‘Yes, and I think I know what you need.’

jjjj ‘You do?’ Jeff wasn’t the best at flirting - lucky then that he received a small brown parcel instead of being whisked away to the trampoline room. ‘What’s this?’ he tried to hide his disappointment.

jjjj ‘It’s a new tape. Hot off the press. Looks like a horde is on its way to The Trafford Centre as we speak. If you hurry you could probably get there in the nick of time.’

jjjj ‘Wow… thanks, Fiona.’ Jeff smiled warmly into her eyes. ‘But… why would you do this for me?’

jjjj ‘Because the look on your face when I said I knew what you needed was priceless,’ she laughed, whipping out a menthol cigarette and lighting it in the customary manner.

jjjj ‘Oh…’

jjjj ‘Maybe one day...’

jjjj ‘Really…?’

jjjj Jeff looked into his true love’s eyes.

jjjj ‘Oh…’




A silhouette stood amongst the ash. Hers was a shapely figure: joyous to behold even by those who feared her. She fretted away at the earth with endurance closely resembling legendary, driven by a motive more similar to insanity. The ground at which she struck was not laden with gold, coal or any other material of practical use. A common passer by might have assumed an intense dislike of the area, or shady deeds regarding the whereabouts of a missing Mohawk. For the truth was so well hidden that even Anna was clueless as to why she dug.

jjjj She pressed on regardless, separating chunks from the Earth with persistence that would shame even zombies. The spade went in, sat around for a while, and was once again wrenched into moonlight. This was a routine the garden tool was more than happy to perform, being that it was a spade and all; but every so often the event was punctuated with the arrival of the ghoul. This particular gardening implement had no quarrel with the undead, other than the occasional coffin breakout – so when it suddenly found itself embedded within three inches of grey matter, the spade felt like it had been unfairly forced into choosing sides. It never complained of course; but when the soft bed of ash and soil was interrupted by a sudden clang of metal, it seemed time to pack it in, bandage its blade and call it a day.

jjjj Anna discarded her mutinous assistant, setting about the ground with the intention of a mole. It was a messier ordeal, but definitely more liberal in the way of precision. So it wasn’t long before an entire hatch was revealed. ‘Project 24’ the door boasted. This could have been because it had little else to boast about. Its main security feature being four foot of shifted earth, the hatch wasn’t much in the way of defences. It took little more than the turning of a wheel before the passage was open.

jjjj The inevitable corridor that followed seemed to possess the feng-shui of an underground lair. Ventilation pipes ran two and fro, steam leaking at intervals in a way that left the safety protocols of the establishment very much in question. Concrete was the order of the day, stretching duly in every which direction. Anna proceeded down a labyrinth of these tunnels, following only a forgotten memory. It seemed as though anybody would have trouble navigating, for despite the fact that directional stripes ran along the wall, they were flaking and discoloured in places. So the eventual discovery of a complex door seemed nothing short of a miracle.

jjjj Sixteen inch aluminium-steel alloy, fusion modulated to atomic precision. Not even the most motivated of spades could pierce this barrier. You’d have better luck digging around. Anna made no attempt at this: she merely smiled sweetly at the obstacle’s head.

jjjj ‘I’m here now,’ she told it.

jjjj Miraculously, the way slid open, allowing Anna to step inside a creepy looking laboratory. Affronts to God lined the shelves like penny-sweets. Bubbling test-tubes contained who knows what. Strange looking animals lay curled in viscous jars, showing no awareness of their peculiar abode. It was the kind of place that frequently rang out with cries of, ‘It’s alllllllllllliveeee!!!’ because anything that could survive in such an environment certainly deserved a dramatic response.

jjjj Anna didn’t pay much attention to all this. Instead, she found herself taking the side of a strangely familiar man. I need only mention the spectacles.

jjjj ‘Project Anna,’ said Sydney Langdon. ‘What can I do for you?’

jjjj Project Anna was somewhat blunt in her response, and suddenly the dear professor found himself hoisted amongst his inventory.

jjjj ‘Who am I?’ she demanded, as amnesiacs often do.

jjjj ‘What is the meaning of this?’ stammered the good doctor.

jjjj ‘Who am I?’ Anna slammed her fist into a jar. At the time it had seemed like a good idea, but the release of a scaly abomination and the coating of her hand in goo brought about second thoughts.

jjjj ‘You are Project Anna. You are a response to the super zombies.’

jjjj ‘What did you do to me?’

jjjj ‘We made you what you needed to be. You volunteered, after all. The Zombie Apocalypse was going terribly. With the introduction of the super zombies, it would all be over very quickly. Without the Project, we wouldn’t have stood a chance. You have to fight the super zombies. If you don’t… we’re doomed.’

jjjj ‘Tell me then… if super zombies have always been such a threat, why now? Why weren’t they getting covered in milk in the first place?’

jjjj ‘The milk…’ the scientist explained with nerves resembling steel, ‘the milk is a fabrication. It is both true and a false at the same time.’

jjjj ‘What do you mean?’ Anna decided against a second jar-smash.

jjjj ‘Well it’s not really milk… We genetically engineered the serum from a compound known as T45. After that it was a simple case of packaging.’

jjjj ‘You made the super zombies!?’ cried Anna. ‘Are you insane!?’

jjjj ‘We had to. It was the only way we could—’

jjjj ‘Garrrrrrrraghhhh!’

jjjj ‘Excuse you,’ said the doctor.

jjjj ‘It wasn’t me. Please, continue.’

jjjj ‘Arrrrrrghhh!’ replied Dr Langdon, suddenly sharing an embrace with a dubious test subject.

jjjj The scientist fell to the floor without a breath, the creature that took his life still nibbling affectionately on his ear. The abomination looked almost like amphibious hamster of sorts.

jjjj ‘Cute,’ said Anna, setting about the deceased scientist’s computer. ‘Now let’s see what we can’t find out.’

4

‘The government has made a point of scattering weapons
and ammunition throughout the country in crates. Help
yourself, but be considerate of others.'

The Trafford Centre sat glumly in its braces, eying the ghoulish customers which cluttered its floors with grim detriment. Never before had the cavernous structure been so desperately strapped for space. Feet, hands and moans filled every corner, store and stand. The proud fountain that had once stretched upwards of fifty-foot towards an elegant dome skylight was now nothing short of a stagnant pool. Dizzying moans echoed about the place as though originating from deep underground. Sadly none of them cast regard to the fabulous signs of sales and savings that hung solemnly from the rafters. From the looks of things the store might be reporting its worst quarter since opening day.

jjjjThose who still had money in their pockets and sense in their brains didn’t really have time to ponder the deficiencies of capitalism, or marvel at the wayward growth of consumerism that had lead to a vast monetary divide and accommodated the ever increasing threat of a conglomerate monopoly to family owned businesses. They were more concerned with the protection of their skulls.

jjjj This particular group had taken up arms from the ever practical JJB Sports, and were quickly learning the deficiencies involved in the bargain isle. They hacked through the crowds with the assistance of golf clubs, tennis rackets, and any bat you could care to name. Fastened about their chest was the traditional armour of an American linebacker. The plates had been moulded with the finest forms of fusion modulation, but even this couldn’t prevent the odd fatality along the way.

jjjj Five reached the stairs, a stream of ghouls shambling in their wake like an inebriated conga-line. One stopped to buy his companions some time, another was caught in a momentary dilemma regarding cost and convenience – both were consumed in moments. Only three saw daylight: a desolate curtain of ash that only informed them of the futility of their escape.

jjjj Blackened puddles of acid rain splashed underfoot as the three waded closer and closer to the edge. A rampant car-park fifty-foot below told a story of madness and destruction that had occurred during the Great Blackout. Still the innumerate horde approached, writhing and moaning and showing no awareness of the world outside of the still breathing trio. A nurse rushed forward, attempting to cleave an exit. She was devoured in an instant. The two remaining survivors looked into the face of certain death. With the ghouls ahead and the fall behind, it seemed an obvious decision.

jjjj They stepped up to the cusp of the roof, toes suspended by nothing but air, the rest preparing to follow suit. Both men formed the sign of the cross, whispering a silent prayer despite being religiously neutral only months ago. Hands clasped together in a form of immortal camaraderie.

jjjj Then suddenly, like Gabriel’s roaring trumpet, the powerful rotors of a helicopter became audible. The BBC logo emerged from the ashes like a divine hand. A man with refined features and a nice looking trilby was hanging from the door.

jjjj ‘Climb on board!’ he shouted. ‘We’re getting you out of here!’

jjjj The two surviving heroes took to the skies not a moment too soon, but before they could breathe a sigh of relief, the piercing scream of undead claws scraped against the metal. A creature clung to the handle, tearing at the door above a hundred feet of open air.

jjjj ‘I will kill you!’ it cried unoriginally.

jjjj Suddenly, flames burst forth in a mushroom explosion culminating from a running gag involving pipe-cleaners. The super zombie was shaken from its grips, falling dramatically into one last earth shattering blast that had no precisely business being there. Then they were free. The fires of The Trafford Centre faded into the distance. The two surviving heroes gratefully looked down on the city, knowing that their journey was finally over.

jjjj ‘Well,’ said a man bearing the name of John, ‘that went well. Do you think we could stop off for a pint on that way back? I’m parched. Name’s John. That’s Nick. Cheers for saving us.’

jjjj ‘Not a problem,’ boasted Phil. ‘After all, I’m a heroic kind of guy with a talent for—’

jjjj ‘Hey that’s, great,’ interrupted Jeff. ‘So do you mind telling us what happened down there?’

jjjj ‘Well from what I could tell there were some zombies and we blew the hell out of them,’ explained Nick, picking shrapnel from his jacket.

jjjj ‘Anything more substantial? Perhaps something on the subject of talking zombies?’

jjjj ‘Oh yeah… Dave. He was one of them. Didn’t say so at first, of course,’ said John fidgeting with the suffocating straps of his helmet.

jjjj ‘Sneaky bastards,’ agreed Nick.

jjjj ‘So you guys had a traitorous super zombie too?’

jjjj ‘Yep,’ replied Nick. ‘Said he was a milk man. I guess he was in the end… Good thing we had that running gag about pipe cleaners or we never would have made it out alive.’

jjjj ‘Speaking of which,’ said John. ‘I told you I was a main character!’

jjjj ‘You were right about that,’ sighed his colleague, withdrawing a battered ten pound note from his pocket and reluctantly handing it over. ‘But at least I got some decent lines in.’

jjjj ‘True. That one from the second act was pure gold! Shame it all went down hill from there.’

jjjj ‘You mean with all the puns?’ Neville lit a cigarette, leaving an erratic trail of smoke pouring from the window.

jjjj ‘I mean with all the sex. Everyone knows if you have sex in a horror than you’re not going to make it to the end. But you did… which means…’ His eyes lit up. ‘You clever bastard!’

jjjj ‘I know… what a twist,’ Nick beamed. ‘And to think they wanted to cut that bit with the leaf-blower. ’

jjjj ‘Err… easy on the fourth wall guys,’ Jeff warned.

jjjj ‘Oh says you,’ huffed John. ‘We all saw you bickering about characterization on the roof. What was that, “I got the opening dialogue!”? And talk about a deux ex machina ending!’

jjjj ‘Hey… you had a similar one,’ argued Jeff, whose feelings were genuinely starting to hurt. He stopped, giving them both a stern once over. ‘Wait… how do you even know all this?’

jjjj ‘We watched it.’

jjjj ‘What?’

jjjj ‘Yeah. We saw it live. Good stuff for the most part, if a bit cheap at times,’ continued John.

jjjj Jeff attempted to scratch his head, but was limited by the spread of his helmet. Instead he took to rubbing the stubble on his chin.

jjjj ‘That’s odd,’ he said. ‘Besides, wasn’t the Trafford Centre already wiped out?’

jjjj ‘Yeah, that’s why we needed to do a remake,’ explained Neville, wrestling with a packet of in-flight peanuts. ‘It was a boring story otherwise: a wee bit depressing.’

jjjj Jeff observed the clouds of ash that powdered the dead city of Manchester. It was a bit.

jjjj ‘Hence the sex scene,’ said John. ‘Livened things up a bit.’

jjjj ‘So the super zombie… was there one first time around?’

jjjj ‘Not that I can recall,’ said Neville, popping a salted snack into his mouth. ‘From what I heard they just got careless. Too many entrances in a mall: that’s why not many survivors go there.’

jjjj ‘But in your story?’

jjjj ‘Oh yeah,’ said John. ‘Super zombies aplenty. There we were, minding our own business, playing golf and generally having fun, when this guy drives a milk truck right into the delivery entrance. We’re a little pissed, but if he can drive at least he’s not one of them – so we save him. Get to know him a while and this other girl shows up – only she’s been dead a little longer than the first. Suddenly the zombies start congregating.’

jjjj ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ chipped in Neville, ‘and no, they weren’t.’

jjjj ‘So anyway, she says she wants to get hold of the video equipment we were going to broadcast the remake on, and they start assaulting the walls. We fought them off as best we could, but the milk guy turns out to be one of them. Neville shoves him one of these.’ Neville produced a fuzzy length of wire from his pocket. ‘And that takes care of that. We fought to the roof and then you show up. Good timing really. Made for some excellent footage. We were going to broadcast it ourselves… but I guess you can have it now.’

jjjj Jeff let out a long and exaggerated, ‘Hmmmmmm…’ Things were starting to seem a bit too convenient.

jjjj ‘Nice trilby, by the way.’




Jeff Capell once again stood before the desk of the BBC Director, the man himself sitting quizzically behind it and examining the new package that had arrived only moments ago. Murray or Karl hulked to the side, grinning at the news that Jeff had once again failed to produce a film. This time however, Jeff was not prepared to be beaten. On the contrary, he wanted to be in that office; because just like Suzie Morningham’s face, he was gonna bust this thing wide open.

jjjj ‘It’s a conspiracy,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘The super zombies are infiltrating buildings and taking them out. We have to put out a report. We’ve lost five settlements in the course of a month.’

jjjj ‘Well it was February…’ said the bulky bodyguard.

jjjj ‘Not anymore.’

jjjj Mr Bower thumbed through the papers with a feigned look of interest, footage reaming away on a laptop in front of him. It was blockbuster quality to be sure. Sex, explosions and gunfire. May not have been the way of the old BBC; but now they had a gap in the market to fill, and it looked like Jeff would be the one to fill it.

jjjj ‘Conspiracy, you say?’

jjjj ‘Certainly looks that way.’

jjjj ‘Would this be a conspiracy of the sensationalist variety, containing many moments of shock, revelation and awe?’

jjjj ‘Almost doubtlessly.’

jjjj ‘And assuming for a moment that I was to believe you, and I assure you that I do not, could it be assumed that the course of your investigation would turn up numerate and exciting articles such as these?’

jjjj Jeff nodded slowly. Here was a person who could sniff out an advantage once it had been thrust beneath his nose.

jjjj ‘How would you go about presenting this report?’

jjjj ‘Through a series of investigative journalistic examples, including interviews from key witnesses and footage from the events themselves… It’s all very BBC,’ he was sure to add.

jjjj Mr Bower admired an explosion on the laptop. It was sensational, no doubt about that. Jeff Capell may have been an impetuous one, but it did seem as though action had a habit of following in his wake. The addition of a video camera to the proceedings certainly seemed like a logical step in the pursuit of ratings.

jjjj ‘Very well, Mr Jeff,’ the Director said, bringing his hands together just so. ‘I will allow you to follow this course, but only on the condition that you liberate more of these tapes for our program.’

jjjj ‘I’d have it no other way.’

jjjj ‘Good then. We have a deal.’ The two men exchanged a perfunctory handshake. ‘Would you like me to accommodate you with your trademark exit?’ Jeff nodded. ‘Karl?’

jjjj ‘Murray.’

jjjj ‘So it is.’

jjjj Jeff took leave of the Director and his lackey, finding himself in that same old uninteresting corridor which now boasted the addition of a homemade painting. It was a tragic water-pastel piece that depicted the decimated skyline of Liverpool. Sadly it added little in the way of interest. For once Jeff had no intention of staying here: his course was clearly set ahead of him. But before any such path could be followed, there was business to attend to.

jjjj ‘I believe I had a hat!’ he cried, trilby returning to his side.

Not too far away in a recently disclosed underground location, the site of Project 24 was enjoying the gentle affections of a woman’s touch. Rows of unethical jars were now categorized by evil. Bubbling chemicals had been stored properly in the fridge. And various fizzling wires that ran about the place had been neatly tucked beneath the folds of an elegant Tuscan rug. The former whereabouts of the rug remained ambiguous, though a person guessing Tuscany would probably not be far off. The important thing was that it was sitting pretty in the centre of the lab and awaiting its true purpose: the disposal of Dr Langdon.

jjjj A scaly abomination cast a critical eye across the room. It looked nicer to be sure, but one would be hard pressed to say it delivered the quaint aesthetic of the underground lair which its designer had intended. As it was, the place was beginning to look more and more like a kitchen – or God forbid… a lab of acceptable moral standards. Dr Langdon would not be pleased about this.

jjjj ‘Dr Langdon would not be pleased about this,’ the creature reiterated to a nearby Anna, who was diving through the archives with the enthusiasm of a dolphin.

jjjj ‘You’re the one that killed him,’ she said, tapping away at the keyboard.

jjjj ‘How was I supposed to know that I was poisonous? I just wanted to give my dad a cuddle.’

jjjj ‘Well it’s too late now.’

jjjj Rob, for that was the abomination’s name, sighed, looking down at his creator and soon to be accommodating Tuscan rug.

jjjj ‘Oh father, I hardly knew ye.’ He gave the ear another affectionate nibble, acid tipped fangs making short work of the connective tissue. Rob quickly spat it out, where it melted happily into the floor.

jjjj ‘So what are you looking for again?’ he asked, discovering to his immense joy a scaly set of wings.

jjjj ‘He said he created me. He said I volunteered. I’m hoping my past identity will be on here somewhere so that I can find out what he’s done to me.’

jjjj ‘Because apart from the leather ensemble and stunning boots, you really are a hideous beast,’ quipped Rob, expelling slime from any number of holes. ‘I really wouldn’t take it personally. Just be happy with what you’ve got.’

jjjj ‘Well maybe I can find out what it is I’m supposed to do.’

jjjj The amphibious hamster took clumsily to air, achieving little more than a few second of erratic wobbling which ended with another smashed jar. Anna went on hacking.

jjjj ‘Looks like I was genetically engineered as well. T45: it’s all here. They took ten of us and introduced us to that stuff. Some became strong… others died… and the rest became… you know.’

jjjj ‘Surprise, surprise. Who would have guessed this lab performed genetic engineering?’ Rob croaked mightily.

jjjj ‘What’s strange is that it looks like the super zombies were no accident. There were two different experiments, and whoever put them there did it on purpose. The only thing I can’t figure out is why.’

jjjj ‘Say, while you’re at it, could you figure out what I’m supposed to be.’

jjjj ‘You’re a freak,’ Anna replied bluntly.

jjjj ‘Oh.’

jjjj ‘So it looks like there were four of us that survived. It says we were designed to stop the super zombies. The others were released across the country, gallons of this genetically engineered milk along with them. By now there are probably hundreds of talking ghouls walking the streets.’

jjjj ‘Can you find out who did it?’

jjjj ‘The names of those who funded the programs are anonymous. But it looks like some of their payments made an imprint in the sub-sector’s fusion modulator.’

jjjj ‘I bet it did…’ sighed Rob, who had stopped paying attention.

jjjj ‘If I can just hack the mainframe…’ Anna made frantic keystrokes. It was the kind of hacking you usually see in films – the kind that replaces CCTV footage with Rick Astley, or changes microwave clocks through the magical power of the internet. Within seconds she had cracked the code.

jjjj ‘Oh my God…’ she said. ‘It’s him!’

jjjj Rob gasped despite the fact the person on screen meant precisely nothing to him. Then the camera swung towards Anna, revealing the image to the audience. It was a beardy looking fellow who seemed to possess more than one of Robinson Crusoe’s more notable features. It was a face of great esteem. One that the entire country would recognize… and Anna was about to meet him in person.

5

‘Make sure it looks good.'

Music was no stranger to the suburban road that ran alongside The Swan. Since the modest pub’s construction, countless records had spilt out onto the asphalt. Whether it was the jarring hum of the antique jukebox, or a local’s stirring rendition of Roxanne, there wasn’t a door in the world that could restrain the merriment behind the iron-framed glass. Tonight was no different. The local’s pallet had been extended to include not only the veteran drinkers of old, but also a crowd of wavering one-timers, who only graced the door upon some special occasion.

jjjjThough the chalk emblazoned sign had been engulfed by a rowdy band of revellers, any newcomers would have had little difficulty identifying the occasion. A sordid mix of rotting flesh and tattered rags hung loosely from the partygoers. The makeshift dance-floor played host to a drunken exhibit of shuffling and shambling. Blood splashed the bar as liberally as ale. Talk of the Zombie Costume Contest had spread quickly throughout the wasteland, and it was beginning to look like The Swan was host to the largest shindig in town.

jjjj This wasn’t the first event that Johnnie the bartender had thrown together. Why only last month he had attempted a gathering of this very theme. He’d spent many hours toiling tirelessly about the bar, hanging colourful confetti based on human entrails, and lovingly sweeping ash across every surface he could manage. Come the big night, the familiar aesthetic of The Swan had disappeared beneath a bleak rendition of the world outside. Johnnie had smiled then, helping himself to a bottle of scotch reserved only for celebration or mourning.

jjjj Opening hours had come swiftly. Much to the dismay of his loyal regulars, he’d kept the place shut until seven thirty, which was only permitted only through a generous extension of the final call. So when the bar finally opened its doors, a respectable clientele of shuffling ghouls poured immediately inside. Little did Johnnie know, or many of his customers for that matter, one of the undead had stealthily integrated itself. Those waiting at the door had heralded him as an actor totally dedicated to the event, only to find themselves devoured moments later.

jjjj It was an upsetting time, and it had dealt his business an unwelcome blow; but tonight Johnnie was confident of the establishment’s security. This was mainly due to the joint efforts of a hired bouncer named Murray and his foolproof three question scheme. Nothing had gone wrong just yet, and although a few fights had broken out, it looked like the sanctity of the fortress would remain untainted.

jjjj Jeff Capell eyeballed the ghoulish barkeep, clad in one of his finest blood-splattered ensembles. He had spared no attention to detail. The purchase of arts and crafts may have been difficult in these trying times, but the acquisition of body parts was no longer such a taboo. As it was, Jeff was sporting a veritable Frankenstein of dismembered ears, hair, and teeth.

jjjj ‘One of the usual, Johnnie,’ he said, drumming a rotten series of fingers across the ashen bar.

jjjj Johnnie drew one pint of golden nectar from the pipes and set it on the counter. Jeff revealed a crumpled fiver and handed it to the beghouled barkeep.

jjjj ‘Keep the change, my man,’ he said, much to the astonishment of the proprietor. ‘I have quite recently run into a business venture of prosperous forthcomings. Needless to say I shall soon be a very wealthy man.’

jjjj ‘Kind of you to pass on the good fortune then,’ said Johnnie, scrutinizing the authenticity of the valueless paper.

jjjj ‘I would have it no other way,’ replied Jeff, taking his pint and steering it through the horde in search of his peers.

jjjj Dan, Fiona, John, Nick and Phil crowded around a four person table. The arrival of the sixth received little welcome when it was discovered his round had somehow been evaded yet again. Jeff joined the others with a guiltless shrug, gently blowing a layer of ash from atop his beverage. ‘Couldn’t carry them,’ he shrugged by way of excuse.

jjjj The other’s costumes lacked something in the way of originality. John and Nick were the only convincing pair, and that was simply because their outfits were completely and utterly unchanged since their last scene. Nick had been sceptical about coming as a survivor, but when the reaction of Johnnie shifted to something of delight, the two had taken to sitting smugly in their chairs and occasionally indulging ghouls in mock battle.

jjjj Dan had gone to great lengths to secure the authenticity of his wardrobe. He had undertaken much research through the breaking and entering of the local parish; and confidently believed that the recently deceased Father Douglas would have had no issue with the emancipation of his ceremonial robes. Jeff was more interested in Fiona’s delicate wear. From somewhere she had liberated the uniform of a nurse, but judging from the length and practicality of the ensemble, most of the lads assumed the hospital’s wardrobe to be full, and that it was the strip joint down Avon Street that was short an article on its rack.

jjjj ‘So Jeff, you think you’ve got this whole thing uncovered?’ said Dan, swigging mightily from a flask labelled ‘Holy Water.’

jjjj ‘Oh yes,’ said Jeff, with the confidence that three pints often grants. ‘It is well within my belief that the super zombies are up to something.’

jjjj ‘You don’t say,’ said Fiona.

jjjj ‘Oh I do say! Because recently it has come to my attention that they have started infiltrating buildings and tearing them down from the inside. Let’s look at the facts: before us, no super zombies were recorded. But since they attacked Old Trafford, there have been five other cases.’

jjjj ‘Well maybe that just means they’ve all come about at the same time,’ suggested Dan.

jjjj ‘Which would imply that the whole milk thing is nonsense,’ replied Jeff under the authority of a furtive eyebrow. Dan doubtfully knocked back another draught. ‘But here’s the thing that’s really shocked me…’ He lowered his voice to a hushed tone so that all around leaned in expectantly. ‘Of every single super zombie attack, at least two people have survived…’

jjjj ‘Coincidence.’

jjjj Jeff dutifully shook his head, pieces of face peeling off as he did. ‘Think about it: of zombie attacks, only 20% of times somebody makes it out alive. During co-ordinated super zombie attacks, there’s 100% survival rate so far.’

jjjj Dan sighed deeply, rising to his feet whereupon he said: ‘It won’t be 100% for long. You’re going to get yourself killed,’ and made off in the direction of the gents. Jeff watched his friend depart with a discouraged frown on his flaking face. Dan was his best chance of finding the lead…

jjjj He turned to his second.

jjjj ‘You believe me, don’t you, Fiona?’ he said to a pair of breasts precariously perched on the extremities of a nurse’s uniform.

jjjj ‘I believe Dan. But then again I don’t really care.’

jjjj Jeff looked after the others. Nick and John were writhing beneath a clamorous horde of undead. Phil had marched himself over to the bar, where he was perusing the affections of two attractive looking ghoulettes with limited success.

jjjj ‘Then could you tell me where to find the author of the Civilians’ Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse?’ he whispered.

jjjj Her depthless eyes fixed upon Jeff a look of dire concern. ‘Why do you want to find him?’

jjjj ‘He wrote hundreds of pages on zombies: what do to, how to react. When it gets to the section about super zombies… it looks edited. It seems like he knows more than he’s letting on.’

jjjj Dan returned from the lavatory, taking the opportunity before he sat to wrangle a loose fly. He observed the others with apprehension, but did nothing more than take another swig of his emptying flask.

jjjj ‘Nobody knows where you can find him,’ Fiona said unconfidently.

jjjj ‘Find who?’ asked Dan.

jjjj ‘The author of the Survival Guide.’

jjjj ‘Nobody knows where he is…’ he repeated.

jjjj Jeff studied his acquaintances’ expressions. He was never a master of poker, but these two might as well have laid their cards upon the table right there and then. For news reporters, they certainly were bad at being straight faced.

jjjj ‘Alright,’ said Jeff, eyeing the ancient clock on the wall. ‘If I win the costume contest, you have to tell me. If either of you win, I’ll leave you alone.’

jjjj Dan studied Jeff beneath a genuine clergy costume. There was no way he could lose. Fiona was similarly themed. Jeff’s bland civilian wear didn’t have a hope in hell. It was because of this neither reporter hesitated to shake. With five minutes to go before the contest, there could still be a good hour to be enjoyed in silence.

jjjj ‘What if none of us win?’ said Dan.

jjjj ‘Oh trust me… one of us will win.’

jjjj Jeff’s confidence was based primarily on the knowledge that Johnnie was notoriously easy to bribe. The Swan itself was a living testament to this. Every shimmering article that lay beyond The Swan’s doors seemed to have stemmed from some shady deal. A row of historical silver pennies buried within the bar-top had been a present from the local contractor that had somehow forgotten to connect the pipes, leading to a disastrous opening night in which the local off-license had to be raided. The brass pipes themselves were afforded to Johnnie when a lass working at the brewery had accidentally shipped a potent mix of coca cola which resulted in the mass inebriation of children. Jeff had already laid the foundation with the fiver, and before the competition began he had prepared a treat that no sane man could turn down.

jjjj The clock struck the hour that had been long awaited of it. A huge cheer rose from the undead as a decaying barman took to the stage. Johnnie cast a judgemental eye across the crowd, though a winner had already been picked, and stepped in front of a microphone that had been subjected to an unethical amount of karaoke over the years.

jjjj ‘Welcome all, to The Swan’s second zombie-costume contest!’ This provoked a huge cheer from some; others simply crossed themselves in memory of those lost. ‘I’m glad to see that everything’s going better than last time. And choosing the winner was certainly a difficult task…’ He paused to behold half the crowd winking furiously up at him, Jeff and Dan included in their number. ‘But there can only be one winner! And that winner is…’ An expectant silence filled the room. Johnnie’s pockets weighed satisfactorily upon his costume. ‘Miss Fiona Mayes!’

jjjj A scanty nurse mounted the stage to the rapturous applause of a hundred faux zombies. Amongst those, the odd dirty dealer shook their fist at the lights and swore the downfall of Johnnie Marlow. Jeff was amongst these, and cursed noisily beneath the revelry of the crowd as a victorious Fiona winked at him from above. The smirk on her face said, ‘Don’t mess with me,’ while the name on her apron read Nurse Cleavage – a disappointing reveal into the world of amateur strippers.

jjjj ‘And this beautiful young ghoul from our very own BBC News wins a bottle of bubbly and gets a night on the town with the proprietor of this fine establishment!’




Jeff sat glumly at the bar, swigging occasionally from his glass. Johnny applied frozen peas to his face like leeches - his vain attempt to settle a bulging eyeball. Beneath the makeup, blood and ash, the barman’s countenance had faded to the complexion of a dying man. Jeff felt no sympathy however: his pockets were still lighter than usual and Johnnie had shown no signs of attempting to reimburse him.

jjjj ‘I thought we had a deal!’ cried Jeff, expertly slamming his pint so that nothing escaped.

jjjj ‘What can I say?’ replied Johnnie, between the careful application of carrots to his eyelid. ‘You offered me a night out with Felicity. I liked my chances better this way.’

jjjj ‘And look where it got you.’ Jeff took a draught of liquid reassurance. The amber concoction swilled about his stomach and pushed uncomfortably against his bladder. His only lead was cold. Now he might never find the reclusive author.

jjjj ‘Why did you want to win so badly anyway?’

jjjj ‘I was trying to find the Civilians’ Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse author,’ sighed Jeff.

jjjj ‘Oh hell, I can tell you that,’ said Johnnie. Jeff’s face lifted from his glass in a way the barman knew meant profit. Smiling between rotting lips and a frosty bunch of vegetables, he said, ‘But of course it’ll cost you.’

jjjj Jeff’s vengeful gaze turned to the barman’s good eye, his way of letting Johnnie know exactly what it would cost him. The barman’s face fell, along with some carrots. Looks like the lead wasn’t cold after all.

6

‘All the world’s a stage.'

Jeff surveyed the Welsh moors with a look on his face closely resembling loathing. In fact, the look was loathing, but because the majority of his facial muscles had been paralyzed by the cold Cymru air, all Jeff could manage was a red faced contortion practised only by people of the valleys and a torpid young gentleman named Ted. Strangely enough, Jeff’s days as a Scottish wee-un would have considered such conditions sun bathing weather; but in accordance with tradition, not hell, high water, or even a brief dry-spell can stop a Brit from scowling at the cold. He clung to his trilby as though it were a hot-water bottle, contemplating what ungodly force had brought him to this desolate place. It wasn’t long before he was reminded.

jjjj ‘We’re coming up on the forest now!’ shouted Phil, inadvertently shepherding a herd of sheep below. ‘Are you sure this is the place? I haven’t seen a house for miles.’

jjjj ‘That’s the idea.’

jjjj Minutes later, a cold rush of air flooded the cabin as the door was pulled open. The atmosphere approached freezing; it was almost as if a spectral fog had infiltrated the craft and was kicking back with a cold beer and an ice lolly. Already Jeff could feel the frosty condensation slinking towards his preferably temperate nether-regions, and it was with a grim optimism he donned his narrow-brimmed bonnet. The rope ladder tumbled out shortly after, and nods were exchanged as the reporter began his harrowing decent.

jjjj ‘Good luck, Jeff. See if you can grab me an autograph.’

jjjj ‘Bye, Phil.’

jjjj ‘Nice trilby, by the way.’

jjjj There were some upsides to the gruesome conditions. Jeff’s liver had taken a rather stern pounding at The Swan the previous night, and if anything the flight over had exacerbated the feeling of wretched discontent that one usually associates with a hangover. As it was, Jeff’s nose, now a frosty icicle, was registering pain far greater than that which had previously gripped his skull. By the time his feet reached terra firma, Jeff had forgotten all about his alcohol related qualms for the far more pressing issue of hypothermia.

jjjj He sauntered through the forest not unlike a lass known for her particular crimson shawl. He curved around the pines, leapt over the logs and ducked fallen branches to confront the cottage of his search. Here was a traditional affair, the sort you’d see on a Cornwall postcard as opposed to the woodland hovel of a mountain recluse. A tiny garden out front boasted frosty vegetables of all modes and descriptions. And tending to them was a burly looking man who featured more than one of Robinson Crusoe’s more notable characteristics. He went about his work with grand delicacy, entrenching a gardening fork at intervals and dropping bulbs with the daintiness of a gourmet.

jjjj Jeff approached him as one would approach a deer: slowly, and with an unsettling apprehension towards being head-butted. A precarious twig announced his approach.

jjjj ‘Who’s there?’ called the burley giant.

jjjj Jeff stepped from the trees under the authority of his ID and replied, ‘Jeff Capell: BBC News,’ flicking his trilby in that suave way reporters often do.

jjjj The recluse sighed, stepping from the garden with mammoth strides. ‘Well you’d better come in then,’ he said.




‘I thought I told you people never to come back,’ said the recluse as a brass pot whistled quietly in the background of his tranquil estate. ‘I don’t know how you keep finding me.’

jjjj ‘Johnnie the bartender told me.’

jjjj ‘That treacherous swine…’

jjjj ‘But I’m off here strictly off the record. I have a few questions I’d like to ask,’ said Jeff, his pen readied before the snowy notebook.

jjjj ‘Well as usual, I’ll try my best to answer. Just please keep your sources a secret.’

jjjj Jeff nodded, taking the opportunity to tip his hat provocatively. The one opposite said nothing. ‘Well, first of all I’d like to know how, despite your fame, nobody knows your name.’

jjjj ‘A matter of choice,’ he shrugged. ‘But if you really want to know, my name is Full Creeks.’

jjjj ‘I don’t get it.’

jjjj ‘I doubt many will. You can call me Creeks.’ The kettle screamed and Creeks went about serving tea. This stuff was like nothing Jeff had ever tasted. It was as though it had been flown in especially from the orient. Sadly no semi-skimmed though. Jeff was sure to compliment the host on his fine tastes.

jjjj ‘So why are you here?’ asked the ranger of the moors, lifting a dainty cup above his beard and taking a dignified sip.

jjjj ‘I was wondering about the super zombies.’ Creeks eyes fell to his mug. ‘You seem to know more about zombies than anybody. I was wondering why there’s so little information on the subject.’

jjjj ‘Well that’s a matter for Sydney Langdon…’

jjjj ‘They’ve lost contact with Dr Langdon, and nobody knows where he lived anyway. Besides, he recently said on the news that it was rotten milk that caused their intelligence, which I know for a fact is false.’

jjjj ‘But surely you more than anybody would believe this considering your encounter with Hugo.’

jjjj Jeff frowned. It might have been his super-reporter instincts kicking in, or his previous ill-fortune in the company of bearded Crusoe look-alikes, but he didn’t like where this was going. Not one bit. ‘It can’t be true. Super zombie attacks are on the rise every day. They must have come from something.’ Jeff stared provocatively into the mountain man’s wild eyes. ‘You can stop the attacks if you just tell me what you know about them.’

jjjj Creeks sighed, setting his cup delicately upon a pewter plate. He withdrew from his pocket a tattered looking copy of the Civilians’ Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse. It was a first addition, not as fancy looking as the gold emblazoned hardbacks, but a tried and tested guide that was worthy of the highest mantelpiece.

jjjj ‘Have you looked at this thing?’ he said, flipping the pages between meaty fingers to find a previously marked section. ‘Look at this. Page 45: In the First Panic.

jjjj ‘If the Zombie Apocalypse has come to your door DON’T PANIC!’ Jeff had always thought the capitalisation of Don’t Panic to be a little self-defeatist, but there you go. ‘The first step to ensuring your survival is the mass hording of supplies and firearms. Raid your nearest gunsmith for a hefty arsenal of guns and ammo, and take these immediately to your nearest supermarket to gain dominance over the unruly crowds. Once you have weapons and supplies, head immediately home and begin fortification (how to fortify a house on page 68). DO NOT under any circumstances attempt to make for the roads or oceans: this is by far the most dangerous course of action that a survivor can undertake.’

jjjj ‘What about it?’ asked Jeff, once he had reached the bottom of the page.

jjjj ‘It’s not what I wrote at all. None of it makes sense. Why wait where you are with limited supplies and weapons? You’d at least want to head for larger fortifications like most survivors did. The original book is over there,’ he pointed to a large and scruffy looking notepad cased within a pristine glass container. It was a jam-packed volume with loose pages spilling from the sides. Truly the work of an author. ‘That one says to get the hell out of there.’

jjjj ‘So why let them change it?’

jjjj Creeks shrugged his hulking shoulders. ‘Editor wouldn’t publish it otherwise. That’s not all they changed. You’re milk theory’s right, that’s for sure.’

jjjj ‘So where did the super zombies really originate?’

jjjj ‘Not a clue. But it has got something to do with Langdon: that’s for sure. If you ask me, they were trying to keep people cooped up for a reason.’

jjjj ‘Why would they do that?’

jjjj Without answering, the hermit leapt to his feet like an alerted dog. His eyes were wild and his motions frantic.

jjjj ‘Because none of this is real…’ he whispered. ‘Run for your life!’

jjjj Jeff had barely risen when the deafening crack of gunfire thundered throughout the mountain air. In seconds, the roof of Creeks’ tranquil cottage had been reduced to its baser elements, a flurry of woodchips raining down like snow. The helicopter became immediately visible, as well as the path of destruction it had carved into the forest and titanic minigun it had used to do so.

jjjj Creeks had already disappeared into the undergrowth, leaving Jeff the only target still standing. As with most people, this was a situation he found himself strangely uncomfortable with; so before the electric whir started up again, the reporter had taken to the trees with the agility and courage of a gerbil.

jjjj The hulking minigun preferred to rely on strength alone, and decimated the foliage in which Jeff had sought his refuge. Between the roar of one hundred rounds per second, an army of fir trees crashing to the ground with someone to hear them, and the frightened screams of our brave hero – there was an unusual amount of noise about the valley. The sheep were startled to say the least. Desolate farmers emerged from their homestead to perform perfunctory tutts before returning to their stew. But the helicopter wasn’t bothered about all this, neither was the minigun – they were a thick-skinned pair it must be said.

jjjj Jeff emerged on the edge of one of those dusty roads, highly concerned about the density of his own skin. The helicopter hovered somewhere above like a kestrel searching out its prey. A quick patting of his pockets revealed nothing of day saving utility, unless his perpetually blank notebook could be considered a worthy bribe. Instead, our man simply tilted his hat in a roguish fashion, caught his breath, and started hurriedly down the road.

jjjj He didn’t get very far, because after about a hundred feet he was scooped up by something very fast and very red that to his immense relief turned out to be a motorcycle. Only furthering his delight was the revelation that his driver was of the lady type.

jjjj ‘Hello,’ he said, contemplating whether or not to ask if she too could feel an immense power surging between her legs.

jjjj ‘Hello,’ replied a creature of dubious moral origins. Jeff gave the entity a quick once over in hopes that its name had somehow slipped his mind. Once it was established that no such being could have come about beneath the grace of God, he turned his attention back to the considerably more attractive biker.

jjjj ‘What’s that?’ he asked.

jjjj ‘I’ll explain later,’ she snapped. ‘First I’ve got to lose the chopper.’

jjjj ‘Oh alright then,’ Jeff said, wrapping his hands around the leather waist far tighter than was necessary. Trees enclosed the rocky road with density that would befuddle even the most piercing of x-rays. Since Jeff had not heard the swath of the rotor for minutes now, and the boom of the cannon even longer, he naturally assumed they would be sitting pretty any moment.

jjjj Sadly this was not the case, for after a few turbulent miles in which Jeff’s crotch was brought under the same scrutiny as a can in a paint mixer, the trees fell away to nothing, and revealed a dangerous looking silhouette in the side mirrors.

jjjj ‘It’s back,’ the scaly-hamster noted, just as a downpour of 7mm rounds did a grand job of resurfacing the road.

jjjj ‘Take the handles,’ ordered the sleek driver. Jeff complied with just a moment’s hesitation. It was this point in films where something reckless and extremely dangerous usually happens, so the reporter couldn’t help but wonder whether he was about to die leaning that Dan had been right all along. His complaints were quickly silenced however when the femme fatale swivelled on the seat, setting her rather admirable arse upon Jeff’s lap.

jjjj Jeff continued along the road with an unusually smug grin for a person being pursued by a death chopper. He had a good feeling about this lass. The introduction of a pistol to the works only consolidated Jeff’s intuition, as well as the short burst of rounds that followed.

jjjj There wasn’t a sound in the world that could have torn his eyes from the road at that moment; but when the ping of a successful strike went unnoticed, it was the long juddering halt of the copter’s blades that drew the bike to a lengthy halt. The helicopter shook uncontrollably in the air, jerking around like a wounded animal. Then, suddenly, a fire burst from the rotors Hollywood style and the vehicle began its loud shuddering decent.

jjjj The ruin of a farmhouse sprang out of nowhere to accommodate the plummeting craft with satisfactory levels of destruction. A huge crash filled the air as the chopper was swallowed beneath flimsy tiles. There was a disappointing silence; and then, after a few wavering moments of anticipation, the final magnificent boom scattered smoke and debris to the air like celebratory fireworks.

jjjj Jeff’s new partner looked him in the eye with a devious smirk on her face and a smoking pistol in her hand.

jjjj ‘Wow,’ was the first thing that sprung to mind.