Zombie 18

By Alan Cowsill

In a post-apocalypse world where everyone over eighteen has become a zombie, seventeen-year-old Alex Stevens and his friends fight their way across England to save Alex’s kid sister from certain death. But the dead are not the only threat they face in a world plunged into chaos…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alan Cowsill
• Release date: Mar 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9780995699434

Alan Cowsill

Alan Cowsill has worked as a writer and editor for Marvel UK/Panini and Eaglemoss. He created the award-winning Classic Marvel Figurine Collection and DC Super Hero Collection for Eaglemoss Publications and presently edits the Marvel Chess Collection and Marvel Movie Collection for them. His books include DC Comics: A Year by Year Visual Chronicle, The Spider-Man Chronicle, Marvel Avengers Character Encyclopedia, Colin the Goblin and the award-winning graphic novel World War One (Campfire). He was also one of the writers of Revolutionary War (Marvel).

Book preview

ONE

I will not die.

I know it’s going to happen. I know it’s going to happen real soon, but I’m going to fight it.

I am going to STAY in control. I am NOT going to lose it. I am NOT going to die.

Who am I trying to kid?

Jack died. My folks died. Just about everyone I’ve ever known’s died. And I’ll die. That’s why I’m doing this. Why I’m writing this down in one last mad crazy rush before it happens.

Before I become one of them.

Maybe it’ll help me hold on to things. Or at the very least let you know what happened to us all.

Maybe it’ll even help you.

I don’t really care. I’m here and I’m about to die and I need to do something so my last few hours aren’t spent screaming and crying and…

My name’s Alex Stevens and I’m seventeen years old.

Tomorrow’s my birthday.

Tomorrow I’m eighteen.

And that’s why I’m going to die.

I know the old world wasn’t perfect, but these days it seems that way. It really does.

It’s less than three months since the Change and I miss so much. So many things. So many people.

Still, at least I made it to London. I always wanted to come down here. Used to think I’d live down here when I was older.

Older.

That’s a laugh. Today I’m about as old as you can get.

I arrived here at first light after taking the walk yesterday. Didn’t take me long to find this place. One thing about what’s happened, there’s plenty of decent accommodation available if you can put up with the neighbours. I can hear them groaning and shambling about down below. Thought I saw some kids in what’s left of Parliament earlier but I stayed clear. I’ve left people behind me. I don’t want to do a Jack and try to kill them. That would be most uncool. Not to mention wrong.

So here I am. Top-floor penthouse and what a view! I’m sitting on the balcony as I scrawl these words, looking out over what’s left of London. Big Ben’s just across the river. It’s seen better days. There’s still smoke coming out of a hole in the clock face on the south side. The Houses of Parliament seem to have got off lightly. It's clearly seen better days but at least it's still there. The other buildings lining the Thames are pretty much burnt-out shells. In the distance, way over the city, a few buildings and tower blocks are still burning. The Shard’s gone, snapped in half. What’s left of it a jagged needle on the horizon. All the cities burned after the Change. Guess they didn’t have much choice. All that gas and electric running wild. All the dropped cigs and left-on cookers.

Boom!

To the right, I can see St. Paul’s Cathedral and it still looks amazing. Okay, so there’s a massive hole in the roof, but the cathedral is still there watching over the Thames. Which is more than can be said for the Pineapple or Gherkin or whatever it was called. Nothing left of that at all.

Listen, sorry if I’m rambling, but this is more for me than you. I’m also trying to work out where to start from. I mean, obviously, here and now. With me overlooking London’s destroyed skyline, the sun rising, a few corpses staggering around aimlessly below. The London Eye’s still there. It’s stopped turning, but the pods are filled with people who were trapped inside when the Change occurred. They’re dead, but that doesn’t stop them moving. Being dead doesn’t stop most people moving these days. At least if you’re over eighteen. The living dead will be trapped in those small glass pods until the whole thing eventually topples over into the Thames, or they stop being zombies. Still, at least they have a nice view. Other zombies are occasionally queuing up at the foot of it. How weird is that? They should get a life.

Sorry, that probably wasn’t funny.

I can also see Charing Cross station and the dead are there too. A few trains crashed and burned. The hotel above the station pretty much collapsed in on itself. Must’ve been one hell of a blaze. A couple of trains are jutting out of the wreckage, melted and charred from the heat. One train’s hanging off the bridge leading into the station, almost as if it’s trying to decide whether to take the plunge into the dark water below. There are a few corpses standing on what’s left of the platforms. They shuffle about, chasing the odd pigeon or fighting over some scrap of meat they’ve found. They seem to be waiting for trains that will never arrive.

Anyway, I’ve got to start before, that much is obvious. Not too far before though. I mean, you don’t really need to know about the time I cut my leg open playing football in the back garden and had to have stitches. Or how I used to stay up late watching horror movies with my dad. My mum used to say they’d give me nightmares but Dad said they’d be good for me. Guess he was right about that one. These days I think of those movies as basic training. No, you don’t need to know about that, but you do need to know about Jack’s birthday and maybe just before that.

When we first met the girls.

Yeah, let’s start with the girls. Kim, Molly and Cara.

Meeting them saved our lives.

We were staying at a Retreat in Ilkley. It was a school trip to mellow a few of us out before the exams and a vague attempt to make us feel more religious at Easter – after all, the Retreat was run by monks. There were thirty of us on the trip. Four from each year plus five teachers to make sure we didn’t get into trouble – or in Kegs’ case more trouble than usual. Our school, Campion, was in St. Helens, a small town about ten miles from Liverpool. It’s not a bad school and it’s not a good school. Actually now it’s a burnt-out wreck of a school filled with the living dead, but you know what I mean. I was in the sixth form, not much time left at the place. A prized position at Huddersfield University waiting for me providing I got the right grades. (A and two Bs, in case you’re wondering. Exams cancelled due to apocalypse.) The trip was only for a few days. A look at York and a life-affirming walk on the moors that sucked big time. It was raining and the moors were all kinds of boring. The highlight was Mr Lee getting shouted out by a couple of Rangers for taking kids out on the moors when the weather was so bad. He got us lost and we all got soaked.

That’s when we met the girls. Not out on the moors but on the way back to Ilkley. We’d pulled into a service station to get some petrol. I was in the newsagents hoping to find a decent book to read when Jack and Matt came rushing up to me as if their lives depended on it.

Reckon he’ll be able to handle the mission? Jack smirked.

Think so, Matt grinned. And let’s face it, the only other option is Kegs.

All three of us looked across the shop, to where Kegs was busy picking on a couple of kids from Year Eight, smacking one over the head with a comic. Kegs was something of a throwback to prehistoric times and the worst bully in the history of the school. It was an all-boys school, by the way. Which explains why I was hopeless at talking to girls and totally terrified when Jack grinned and said, Come with us, we’ve found you a girlfriend.

I knew Matt and Jack pretty well and was friends with Johnny, Matt’s younger brother. They were like a school double act and could get away with murder – mainly because everyone liked them. Matt was captain of the rugby team, while Jack liked cricket. Actually he was obsessed with cricket and was the only person I’ve ever met who could do a googly and actually knew what ‘silly mid-off’ meant. Think Jack saw sport as another way of impressing girls (which was his favourite hobby) while Matt saw sport as a way of helping him get into the RAF. That was his main ambition and probably what made him slightly more human than a lot of the other rugby players at the school – who tended to be more like Kegs in their outlook and attitude. Matt’s brother Johnny should have been on the school trip with us, but had got in trouble at cadets the week before and was staying back home as some kind of punishment duty. All part of the fun when your father runs the local squadron.

Anyway, the girls. When Jack mentioned them, I was terrified.

Er, I just want to get a book, I mumbled, hating the fact that I was blushing at the thought of talking to girls. I was seventeen, it was ridiculous. I’d have to start talking to them sometime. It was just that, right there and then, tomorrow seemed a much better time to start.

Before I knew what was happening they’d almost dragged me out of the newsagents to the entrance to the food court, where six schoolgirls were chatting and giggling to each other.

They were all about our age and in school uniforms far smarter than ours. Not that we had ours on. We were in our trekking gear, which in my case made me feel even more stupid.

Which one do you fancy? Jack whispered, adding seriously, I bagsy the one with the bob though. She’s lovely.

I mumbled something lame and suddenly found myself facing the girls with absolutely nothing cool or interesting to say. Not that it seemed to be damaging Jack’s chances. Don’t know how he did it, but within a few seconds of flashing his smile and making them laugh, he’d peeled the girl with the bob from her friends and led her away from everyone.

Cara, what are you like! one of her friends laughed.

For his part, Matt seemed glad the major competition had gone and was almost holding court, the girls eating up his every word.

Kegs alert, I whispered.

Alright girls, who wants me? Kegs said, a little too loudly for his own good.

So, anyway, this glider…? a girl called Molly asked, ignoring Kegs completely.

It was pretty amazing, Matt smiled. Just me and the pilot miles above the countryside. They let me fly at one point too.

Are you a cadet as well? another girl smiled.

No, I replied, feeling incredibly stupid. I got a new bike a few weeks ago though.

Really, what kind? My boyfriend’s got a Harley.

Err, not a motorbike, I mumbled, deciding to stare at my feet for a few years. Just a bicycle. Good one though.

Oh, the girl said, sounding a little disappointed. Never mind, maybe you’ll get one when you’re older. When I’m on the back of my boyfriend’s Harley, it’s, like, so totally awesome.

Don’t listen to Denise, a new girl said, joining her friends. One, it wasn’t a Harley, just some cheap second-hand rust bucket, and two, it wasn’t her boyfriend, just some dodgy biker who fancied his chances.

Denise made a strange sound and started to blush herself.

I looked up and was pretty much stunned.

Kimberly Davis. It was a little like being struck by lightning. Kim looked more like twenty than seventeen and was a little shorter than me, with deep brown eyes and long jet-black hair curling around her shoulders. She was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Swear to God.

Dude, you’re staring, Matt whispered, laughing and then adding, Can’t blame you though. She’s a babe.

I’m Kim, she smiled. So, do you come here often?

Matt laughed out loud at this and started chatting away to her. For my part, I couldn’t talk. My palms were suddenly even sweatier and my stomach had gone AWOL.

It turned out they were on the way back to their private school from a hockey tournament.

What school? Matt asked.

St. Mary’s, Denise said.

Excuse me, I think you’ll find it’s actually St. Mary’s School for Girls, Kim smiled, putting on a posh accent and then adding in her normal voice, At least, that’s what they tell our folks when they fleece them for the fees every term. Not that my parents are bothered. They’re too busy travelling around the world to care what happens to me and Lizzie.

We both looked at her expectantly. Kegs too, who’d been strangely quiet since Kim’s arrival. Judging by the look on his face (and I know this from talking about it later) he was a little bit in love with her himself.

My sister, she said. The one playing the really violent games in the arcade. Don’t think they’ve managed to refine her that much yet. Thankfully.

We both glanced at the arcade, where an innocent-looking twelve-year-old was blowing monsters away on some computer game. A young kid from our school called Billy was watching her, totally smitten.

What do you think you’re doing? a stern woman’s voice said from nearby.

Kim flinched a little as one of her teachers walked out of the toilet – and straight into Jack and Cara, who were kissing like their lives depended on it.

I said what are you doing? she repeated, her voice making ice appear around her.

Biology 101? Cara smiled, still holding a slightly nervous-looking Jack by the hand.

Coach, now, the teacher ordered.

Looks like it’s time to go, Kim smiled, moving away. After all, they don’t want you corrupting us sweet innocent girls.

We both laughed at this, and I’ve got to admit I felt a little lost when they left. The world was suddenly a little less colourful.

"See, it wasn’t that