British Zombie Breakout: Part Three (7 page)

Since the
stolen phial of virus had wreaked its havoc in the hands of
extremists and a third zombie epidemic had been averted, the day
was getting closer to when everyone could at last return to their
previous lives, as far as that was possible.

Chapter
14: Steve On
TV

Maisie chased a
stewed prune around her plate. 'I'm like totally bored with hotel
food and I want to see my mum.'

'Your mum does
a full choice of breakfast menus, does she?' Alex said, eyeing her
own plate and wondering if she should have gone for the kipper
rather than the eggs Benedict. For once Steve wasn't there to
negotiate a swap with.

'No but there's
like no peanut butter. A bit on toast would be nice.'

Rachel paused
from gnawing on a slice of melon. 'Maisie, you only have to
ask!'

'I know but I
don't like to.'

Rolling her
eyes and pushing back her chair, Rachel set off to the hot food
buffet bar in search of a piece or two of crispy bacon.

It was the
morning of the eighth day at the hotel. Boredom and frustration had
eaten away at the fugitives initial euphoria at being extracted
from the zombie battle at Stannicvale. Even though the kitchen
would provide whatever they wanted and a whole range of
entertainment equipment had been made available, what they needed
was something to do. Steve was the lucky one. With his mother's
permission, he'd been whisked away by armoured limo to the studios
at Television House.

Before the
fugitives were even awake, the British Prime Minister took the
decision to speak to the whole population of the United Kingdom.
Police cars with loud hailers patrolled the streets of every town
and city, and TV and radio announcements were repeated from dawn.
At nine o'clock sharp, the Prime Minister made a simulcast on every
channel:

'The second
outbreak of zombieism has been eradicated on British soil. Yes,' he
said with a smile of such reassuring warmth that it dared anyone to
disbelieve him, 'there are no longer any zombies in Britain.'

The PM stopped,
as if for a round of applause before continuing, 'Every person
infected from Kilkorne and the surrounding area, all the new
infectees in fact, have been saved from developing the late stages
of the disease and are, at this very moment, being returned to
their homes. This proves without doubt the effectiveness of a
newly-discovered vaccine against the zombie virus.'

'Now that a
successful vaccine has been tested, production will be ramped up.
It is my intention that every person in the UK will be inoculated
within a month. This, however, is not the only good news I have
interrupted your TV or radio schedules to speak about.' He looked
to his right and the camera panned in that direction to show a
rather apprehensive-looking young man.

'On my right
here, I have Mr. Steven Reynolds. He was a key player in devising a
weapon in the fight against zombieism, not only in the United
Kingdom but across the world. This young man is the inventor of the
Zombie Detector Torch, or ZDT, a device you will be seeing a lot of
in the future. Steven, please tell us briefly how it works.'

Steve's
expression indicated that he'd rather eat his own trainers than
speak up in front of the Prime Minister and every radio and TV
owning member of the UK population. However, the voice of the
programme director in his earpiece reminded him that if he'd
survived a zombie attack, he could say a few words on TV. Blushing
deeply, Steve said, 'The torch makes people's eyes glow green if
they're infected with the virus.'

'And why is
that important, Steven?'

Steve's jaw
felt as it had become paralysed, until the voice in his ear
reminded him that his mother would be watching the broadcast. 'Oh,
erm, because it works within only a few hours of someone being
exposed to the virus.'

'I understand
that the torch,' The PM held up a small metal cylinder, which in
fact was a theatrical prop, 'will expose a proto-zombie even before
a blood test.'

'That's
correct.'

'Thank you
Steven for that useful explanation. Combined with the vaccine, this
torch will be of the greatest assistance in persuading world
leaders to open their borders once more to UK citizens and to
release the stranglehold on the UK economy.'

The camera
refocused on the Prime Minister. 'It is early days yet but I am
hoping to enter talks with the United Nations this very week. Thank
you all for your patience and endurance.'

Even before the
end of the official broadcast, the media had initiated what became
days of end-to-end newscasts with on-the-spot reporters and
pictures from around the world, playing guessing games as to which
country was most likely to open its borders to UK citizens and
where the first planes and ships carrying supplies bound for the UK
would embark from.

'Why couldn't I
have gone with Steve to be on television?' Rachel said, expressing
her exasperation at having to remain in the hotel with everyone
else. Even Mrs Reynolds had not been permitted to accompany her
son.

'Because, like,
you haven't invented anything,' Maisie said.

'We all did
something,' Fred complained. 'I did plenty of useful stuff with the
sword, cutting through those bushes when we escaped from the
castle.'

'Yes, Maisie,'
Rachel said in a sulky voice, 'you even got our bags and stuff when
the floor collapsed.'

Maisie smiled.
'That was like pretty cool, actually.'

Since the
kidnapping, no-one was very keen to use the TV lounge anymore and
the fifty-inch screen had been relocated to the bar, which had
become the place where the fugitives gathered every day between
meal times. It did, however, serve as a constant reminder to Rachel
of her passionate desire to be 'on the other side of it'.

'It's not just
inventing the torch,' Sarah said. 'Steve did save you all by
getting you in the castle and squishing those zombies.'

'But you drove
the van right out of Kilkorne with us all in it.'

'Like through
that whole army camp!' Maisie was breathless with excitement
reliving it over again. 'Those sentry guys with guns, like trying
to catch you out.'

'I don't know
what was worse, following the army trucks up the cliff road with no
lights, hoping we wouldn't get seen…'

'Or drive off
the edge.'

'Oh, Maisie!
Don't remind me about that. I was going to say "or going through
the camp".'

'We could hear
you from behind the boxes inside the van.' Fred said. 'It was
really hard to stay quiet, especially when you were telling the
soldier about the pies.'

'I'll never
know how I managed that. I was scared half to death.'

'But you still
did it. You should be on TV, too.'

They'd lost
count of how many times they'd recounted each other's role in the
escape from their village after the second zombie breakout from
Breathdeep. The teenagers were of an age when the story never
seemed to tire.

Alex had thus
far kept out of the conversation. 'I expect we'll all get our
chance to be on TV now that the news is out,' she said. Alex had
also wanted to go with Steve, not to be on TV but just to be near
him. She had to trust the sergeant to keep him safe, after he'd
made it clear they could better maintain security with Steve on his
own.

As soon as
Steve returned from recording the broadcast with the Prime
Minister, they were given the news: Rachel's desire to be on
television was to be fulfilled that very evening. Steve would also
be interviewed in a special news programme, along with each of the
other of the escapees, including Maisie, Fred and Sarah. After
months of depressing zombie reports and the resulting economic deep
freeze the country had sunk into, the whole nation was hungry for
news of something going right for a change.

Chapter 1
5: Rachel's
Night

Rachel left no
opportunity unexploited in the 'run-up' to her debut on national
television. She spoke personally to the network producers,
suggesting programmes featuring her preparation for the show,
following every step of her makeover with celebrity hairdressers,
make-up artists and stylists. Managing to get a word in somehow,
Steve put up the idea of having a feature on Old English
Monuments.

The media swung
into action, surrounding the hotel with photographers and TV
cameras. A limo arrived at one point to take Rachel and Maisie to
an upmarket salon for makeovers and on from there to a heavily
sponsored shopping trip. The excitement increased as news came in
of deals done with international media companies for rights to show
the interviews. Rachel returned to the hotel long enough to deposit
Maisie and show off her new look in front of the others, quite
beside herself at the thought of being on global TV.

At seven in the
evening, a lively and dramatic theme tune played as Rachel made her
way to The Sofa where, before sitting down, she bowed and twirled
to raucous applause from a 'live' audience of TV soap actors, news
anchors, pop singers and sports personalities.

'Rachel,' said
the show's host, 'Everyone is so thrilled to see you at last.'

'Thank you,'
she said, grinning so hard she could barely speak. 'I'm very
excited to be here.'

'Now tell us,
how do you feel about your narrow escape from the zombie-ridden
village?'

'Kilkorne? It
was always a bit of dump. Y'know, for a teenager.'

The host's
smile wavered for less than a second. 'But being overrun by zombies
might have been a more important reason to leave.'

'And the army.
They were just as keen to catch us and take us to that Breathdeep
place, where everybody dies.'

'You mean where
they developed the vaccine.'

'Maybe so but
the first time they all died, including my sister.'

'I'm so sorry
to hear that,' the interviewer said, with a sincerity born of
personal loss. 'So many people lost loved ones in the wake of the
first zombie breakout from there.'

'You'll make my
mascara run!' Rachel said, her lip trembling.

'We'll move on
in just a moment but first I must reassure our…' the interviewer
paused to make sure Rachel was paying attention, '…global audience,
that everyone who was taken to Breathdeep from Kilkorne has made a
full recovery.'

'Of course,'
Rachel said, 'It's easy to forget that everyone in the whole world
is watching.'

The interviewer
stopped and gave Rachel his most disarming smile. He was a
well-known celebrity who had risen through the testing ground of
presenting childrens' programmes, comedy stand-up, and had reached
what he considered his personal pinnacle, that of hosting chat
shows.

'I'm sure the
viewers are more interested in the part you played in the escape.
When we come back after the break, I hope you'll be able to give us
some exciting revelations.'

After several
minutes of advertising, the pair returned. Rachel was laughing at a
joke the presenter had just finished before the sound came up.

'So, Rachel,
this programme is syndicated world-wide. You'll be recognised in
the street after tonight's show. What are your feelings now?'

'Well it's
y'know, great to be on TV. I always wanted to be on TV.' Rachel
crossed her legs and clasped her hands around her knees, the bright
pink dress she had chosen shimmering with sequins in the studio
lights. Leaning forward she smiled at the billions of people she
imagined were hanging on her every word. 'It was very scary,
y'know, our escape. Like I said everyone was out to get us.'

Keen to deflect
Rachel from the previous topic, the presenter guided her towards
some of the features of the escape which had already had plenty of
coverage, thanks to Steve. 'I understand the castle played quite a
part.'

'Oh, yes, we
hid there. Twice in fact. We thought the dungeon was haunted but of
course it wasn't.' Rachel laughed, prompting spontaneous applause,
and the presenter joined her, encouraging her to continue on a
lighter note.

'Course I never
believed it,' she lied, having been at least as terrified as
Maisie.

The presenter
was finding it hard going. 'You hid there twice, and borrowed some
Old English Monuments items from the castle shop.'

'We were hungry
and later it was cold at night. They do really good chocolate and
blankets.'

The presenter's
laugh was indulgent and professionally polished to be infectious at
the same time, taking in both Rachel and the studio audience. 'What
was the best bit for you about the castle?' he said after a pause
for more clapping.

'Next to the
chocolate, squishing the zombies was the best.'

'Squishing the
zombies?'

'Oh, yeah!'
Rachel squirmed with excitement and began on her version of events.
'When we first got past the turn style into the castle, the zombies
were still chasing us, so we tried to get the drawbridge up but
they kept climbing on it 'til it fell down.'

'That must have
been terrifying!'

Rachel nodded
and went on in at breathless speed. 'They kept on coming, you know,
kind of lurching like they do. All horrible and disgusting.' Rachel
pulled a face and moved her arms to give her impression of a
zombie. 'Anyway, we made this big gate thing come down on
them.'

'The
portcullis.'

'That's it.
Really heavy, so it squished them good.'

'I see. They
were trapped underneath it?'

'Yeah, loads.
Three or four of them, maybe more. So gross!'

'And it stopped
any more getting in?'

'Exactly. Then
we hid inside until they went away.'

The advertisers
were paying big money to really cram in the adverts, so already the
floor manager was signalling to the interviewer. For his part, the
interviewer was keen not to interrupt Rachel at full throttle.