One
Adalaide gripped the mallet tightly, the position of her hand upon the handle permitting a swing of the maximum possible velocity when combined with the weight of the rubber head.
It was not as though there was anything to hit, mind you, but whilst Ilona was scouting the small zoo a few miles from the Sussex coast leaving her alone on watch, it was only logical that she was ready for anything.
She crouched beside the sign that once upon a time told any driver who passed that it was the entrance to ′Druisilla’s Park,′ allegedly the best small zoo in the country if the brochure Adalaide had retrieved from a spot out of the wind was anything to go by.
All Adalaide knew for certain was that now, it was not the most sensible place to be. Despite the fact she was hidden from view, the girl felt incredibly exposed. In part, she suspected, that had something to do with the fact that for the last few months she and Ilona had hardly left each other’s side. It was only at times like this, when they were incredibly short on food and going into an unknown area completely blind, that they were apart.
To her left she could see roughly eighty percent of the car park without having to reposition herself. There were a few vehicles there, people carriers for the most part though a Citroen ZX parked almost within touching distance made her feel a little more at home, if only for a moment.
The zoo itself was just off the main coastal road that ran from Pevensey in the east to Portsmouth and beyond, to the South-West of England. That was where Adalaide and Ilona were headed. The South-East was fast becoming a hotbed of zombie activity, what with the proximity to London and to the Channel Tunnel, out of which the girls had watched on several occasions thousands upon thousands of zombies arrive from mainland Europe, having shuffled and shambled for over thirty-miles beneath the sea, and the two young women were only just about able to keep a few miles between them and the swelling horde. As more and more zombies joined in the party the throng spread naturally north and west in search of food.
Of course, they both knew that at some point it was likely they would have to swing north, once they had managed to get far enough in front of the horde to do so with as little risk as possible. If they did not, it was quite likely they would become trapped in Cornwall, England’s most south-western county, with little chance of escape.
Adalaide glanced at her watch. Ilona was taking far too long for her liking; twenty minutes already. She decided that she would wait until it got to half an hour, and then she would go in search of her friend.
“Maintenent,” she muttered definitively to herself. “She has been too long.”
Adalaide stood slowly, taking a little time to stretch the stiff muscles of her legs. Then, with a quick glance around to ensure she was safe to do so, she scampered across the car park towards the zoo’s entrance, the mallet in hand.
With ease, she swung herself over the green, waist-high railings, and set about finding Ilona.
She was quite surprised to see that the park was laid out as if it were a village. Low buildings lined narrow, overgrown lanes, and many strange and wonderful animal noises filled the air.
Around several corners she walked, taking great care to make as little noise as she possibly could as she passed by the animal enclosures. Most were empty, their former occupants having apparently fled in search of a good meal.
As she rounded another corner, Adalaide saw Ilona and was about to call out to the girl when she realised she was hiding, peering around the edge of a building as she did her best to keep the twenty or so zombies in sight.
Adalaide quickly scanned her immediate surroundings but the closest thing to her behind which she could hide was a good ten feet away. Worse still, getting to the storefront would require walking upon gravel, and she most certainly had no intentions of doing such a thing. That left only one option; she had to go back the way she had come.
Ilona turned and noticed her presence for the first time, her eyes wide. Neither girl was opposed to taking out a zombie or two, but twenty was too great a number without risk of being eaten alive or worse, getting bitten and left to turn.
Adalaide took a tentative step backwards, followed by another and another.
The dull thud as her mallet came into contact with something metallic, a wayward sign declaring that ′fun and games,′ could be had at the penguin enclosure she discovered with a quick glance, sounded like the loudest most obtrusive noise in the world.
The girls turned their heads in unison, their muscles tensed and senses heightened as they waited to see if the zombies had detected their presence.
Mutilated heads and bodies swung, limbs flailing as the group of undead corpses turned towards them.
“Run!” Ilona yelled as she did just that. Adalaide did not need any encouragement though and she sprinted with the other girl hot on her heels.
By the time Adalaide swung herself over the green railings once again, Ilona was right behind her. Their Buell was right across the other side of the car park towards the rear, as when they had arrived bring attention to themselves had not been particularly high upon their list of priorities. Now, however, and especially considering there were yet more zombies between the girls and the motorcycle, they wished they had been a little less cautious.
“We must fight,” said Ilona, her teeth gritted. “Kill.”
“They are too many,” said Adalaide. Unlike her Latvian friend, her accent was much less pronounced than it once was, although there was still no doubt at all as to the girl’s origins. “But we have no other choice.”
Turning, she saw the zombies gathering at the railing, pushing forwards apparently unable to work out why they were unable to make any progress.
“That gate will not hold for long,” Adalaide muttered. “We must leave the motorcycle and find another vehicle.”
As much as Ilona hated to admit it, Adalaide was right. She sighed, quietly. The Buell had served her well over the last few months, even before her meeting with the French girl, and it was with a heavy heart that she said, “you are right, Adalaide. We stay here and we die. I do not want to die.”
They turned and ran for the exit, heading straight to the road. Turning left would take them to the village of Alfriston a little over two miles away, whereas to the right was the main road which itself was littered with abandoned vehicles. The girls knew the road held little of use to them as they had painstakingly checked every feasible vehicle on their way to the park.
“Over the fields,” said Adalaide. “There is another village. There were signposts, but I do not remember the name.”
“Is no matter,” Ilona replied. “Is closest place and we might find shelter.”
“Or more zombies…”
“Yes,” the Latvian girl said, sprinting across the road with Adalaide at her side. “Let us hope not too many.”
***
Several minutes later and rather out of breath; the two girls crested the rise at the top of the hill, having sprinted across two or three fields. To their left was a large farmhouse, or at least what remained of it because whether it had been done deliberately or not, the building had been gutted by fire.
Turning to look back down and across the fields, they could see that the zombies chasing them had managed to force their way through the hedgerow at the bottom and whilst it would still take them some time to reach the peak, reach it they would.
They quickly decided it would be best to move on. Along the lane that ended at the burnt out farmhouse were several cottages that at first glance appeared to be in a much better state of repair. What caught Ilona’s eye though, despite her knowledge that they really did need to find some kind of shelter, was not any of the cottages. No, it was the bright red pick-up a few hundred yards further on, parked beside a similarly bright red telephone box.
As they drew closer to it, the girls could quite clearly see that the bed was laden with supplies, secured beneath a sheet of weathered tarpaulin.
“I do not see anyone here,” said Ilona, quietly. “But this is fresh…”
“I think it is still being loaded,” said Adalaide in agreement.
“Damn straight it’s still being loaded.” The girls whipped around at the voice to see a dirty, bedraggled looking man. His hair was long and his beard unkempt, whilst the clothes he wore had most definitely seen better days.
“You girls got any designs on stealing my shit,” he said, gesturing to his waist where a shotgun resided in a makeshift holster, “then I won’t be shy about killing you.”
“We are not stealing,” said Ilona, her eyes resting upon the shotgun at the man’s waist. “But we must leave, there are zombies.”
“Where?”
“Behind us, in the fields,” Adalaide continued. “There are too many to fight.”
“Guess you girls want a ride then, eh?”
Both nodded in response and the man continued.
“Well there’s not much else here, to be honest. I’ve got enough supplies to last me a couple of months but the three of us would get through it all in half the time.”
“Where are you going?”
“Headed south, south-west,” he replied. “Heard tell of some kind of sanctuary down there, completely free and safe from zombies; figured it was worth a look.”
“We will come with you,” said Ilona, before adding as an afterthought, “if it is allowed?”
“It’s allowed,” he replied with a smirk as he gestured towards the truck. “Hop in. I’m Sam, by the way.”
“I am Ilona.”
“Adalaide.”
“Pleasure to meet you both, now let’s see how long we can stay alive, eh?”
