The following is a teaser (the first three chapters) of a new novel by the zombie master himself, AngusEcrivain!

---

In The Beginning...

"Keep it the fuck down, will you? Jesus fucking Christ. Those things are attracted to noise. Didn't you see what the fuck they did to that yappy miniature labradoodle?"

"Easier said than done, man. Difficult to 'keep it the fuck down' when this bloody caravan shifts on its blocks at the slightest breath."

"Might have something to do with the fact there's fucking nine of us squeezed into a van designed for four."

"What the fuck are they, anyways? OK so I know what the fuck they are, but...Are they really?"

"Unless you've got a better fucking explanation for people eating people, and then those people dying and turning into people that eat fucking people then yes, they really fucking are."

"Zombies. Man, that's fucked up. I mean there's an element of awesomeness to it 'cos y'know, zombies, but that's some seriously fucked up shit and Jesus fucking Christ will you get your tits out of my face. Not the time or the place."

"Sorry, not much I can do about it though. These girls have a fucking mind of their own."

"They're right outside. Fuck, I can hear them scratching and pawing at the fucking caravan. These things aren't built strong. Much more of that and the entire thing's gonna' collapse around us."

"We've just gotta' sit tight and wait it out. The police will be here soon, or the army or some shit."

"Have you seen any fucking zombie movies? No one's coming, because everybody's already dead, or fighting for their own fucking lives, or just like us hiding somewhere suitably inappropriate waiting for help that ain't gonna' come."

"No need to piss on everyone's chips quite like that. He's right though. Eternal optimist I might be but fuck, we're on our own here, and we can either sit here and wait until this caravan does collapse around us and get eaten by...zombies, or we can try and fight our way out and make a break for it."

"Make a break for it? Where? Assuming we don't get the fuck eaten out of us straight away, where the fuck are we going to go?"

"The car park. I know I can't be the only one whose car keys are digging into my leg. We run like fuck for the car park, pile into a couple of cars, and get the fuck out of here. We already know the other option ain't a feasible one, and there aren't any others."

"There's no way we're all going to make it."

"No offence but I don't know any of you. We're all in here by total chance, that we happened to be running for our fucking lives and saw someone else heading in here. Don't get me wrong I'm sure you're all fucking lovely but I don't owe any of you a damn thing, nor do any of you owe me anything. Those of us who make it will end up being bestest buds I'm sure, but until then..."

***

Sweating, panting, and covered in more blood and other bodily fluids than he had previously thought possible, Richard stood tall over the now-motionless bodies of three zombies, gripping the tyre iron in his right hand. The worst part about that, was that he was sure he had seen at least two of the three corpses the day prior, though of course they had not been corpses at that point.

Hearing a noise he glanced to his right towards the edge of the car park that was lined with a smattering of trees - birch, if that made any difference. Though it was dark, the only spotlight in the area being way over the other side of the car park as it was, he easily made out the two people running hell-for-leather towards him. The fact that they were running, told him they were still human at the very least.

"This is it!" one of the two, a female, yelled, as they drew closer. "There's no one else, they didn't make it."

"Then we go," he replied. He was just about to clamber into the drivers' seat of the Ford Fiesta, when a thought struck him. "Have either of you been bit or scratched?"

"The fuck difference does that make?" the second of the two runners asked. "We can worry about injuries and shit later. Right now we gotta' bolt!"

"The fuck difference it makes, is that we've seen first hand that a bite or scratch equals zombie," said the female, making a show of displaying that she had not been bitten or scratched, as Richard did the same.

"The two of us are clear," he said, pointing towards the young man with the tyre iron. "Now it's your turn."

"I'm not showing you shit. Give me the fucking keys."

"My car my rules, man," Richard replied, calmly. "And you're not getting in 'til I can see you're in the clear."

"Fuck that..." The man lunged clumsily towards the car but Richard stood firm and pushed him back. He stumbled upon the gravel, and landed heavily on his behind.

"Guess you're staying here then," said Richard, gesturing to the girl that she should get into the car. "Last chance to show us you've not been bit or scratched, before we leave you to whatever fate the fuck befalls you."

"You're not fucking leaving me here." The young man scrambled quickly to his feet and tackled Richard to the ground, the latter covering up as best he could as fists rained down upon him. It was while doing so, that he caught sight of what looked very much like a nasty and septic bite, upon his forearm.

Struggling, Richard managed to shift his weight and shrug his attacker off him. As the young man scrambled upon the ground Richard was upon him, his knees upon his chest as he caved in his skull with the tyre iron.

He delivered many more blows than were probably necessary, until he really was beating what was nothing more than a bloody, pulpy mess.

"Now we really have to go," the girl said, leaning her head out of the car window as she spoke.

Richard brought the tyre iron down once more upon what used to be a human head. Then in silence he got to his feet and quickly took the drivers' seat as his own. Within moments, the car took off at speed, it and its occupants leaving the caravan park and the shit show into which it had turned, in the rearview mirror.

The Carpark

"I can't imagine how shitty you're feeling right now... Doing that, what you did, I mean it was the only option, but fuck..." The drive had been a silent one up until that point, other than the steady hum of rubber upon tarmac. "I'd say I wish I could take your place, but I'm not gonna' lie that would be all kinds of bullshit."

"It's all good," the young man replied, not taking his eyes off the road. "I'm good... I mean, it was the right call. It would've been a whole lot worse if I hadn't."

"Well I can't argue with that. I'm Candace, by the way."

"Richard," he replied. "We really need to work out where we're heading, this tank isn't going to last forever."

"Agreed. I don't know this area for shit though," said Candace. "I was only out here for a week with the fam. Can't beat a caravan holiday in fucking February, right?"

She took a deep breath, and though she attempted to fight it a handful of tears slowly made their way down her cheeks, brought on by the mere mention of her now-dead family.

Blinking her tears away she reached forward and turned the knob to activate the radio, twisting it until she found a station that was something other than static.

"...reported on some strange stories, believe me, but this is the oddest. Eyewitness reports say that Clive Banks, a pensioner who died beside the pool whilst enjoying the Gran Canaria winter, actually woke up and began biting and ripping flesh from people. Moments later, his victims began to display the same strange symptoms... I just, I don't know what to say. Can you believe this Andy? This has got to be a hoax, right?"

With that she flicked the radio off, slowly shaking her head.

"Sounds like it's worldwide... We should get off the road, Richard, and see how things look in the morning."

"Good shout," he replied, hitting the brakes harder than was entirely necessary before pulling a U-turn in the road. "We passed a Tesco about half a mile back. We can park up there."

Moments later, Richard pulled the Fiesta into the supermarket carpark, and selected an area as far away from any other vehicles as was possible. Both he and Candace alighted, and surveyed the carpark while keeping tight and close to the vehicle. Neither had any desire to be caught unawares.

"I don't see any movement," said Candace, her eyes focused upon the cluster of cars parked near the entrance to the supermarket itself. "I think we'll be alright, overnight at least. Right now though, I really have to pee."

"Don't stray too far from the car," Richard said with a chuckle. "Nothing pervy or anything like that but y'know, better safe and whatnot."

"Ah you wish," she replied, though in truth Candace had no intention at all of straying too far from the vehicle and as such, she held onto the rear bumper for balance as she squatted behind the car.

As she did so she heard the sound of running water close by, a river or a stream, she surmised. The sound itself, of course, aided her nicely.

Satisfied that she had done what she needed to do, and once she had sorted herself as best she could, Candace made her way back around the vehicle.

"Take the back seat," said Richard. "I'll sleep here, in the front. Not that it's going to be particularly comfortable but hey, figure I ought to be a gent on this occasion."

"I'm not going to argue," she replied. "I just hope you don't snore."

"Same goes for you," said Richard. "Don't particularly relish the thought of waking up to a horde of zombies clawing at the windows!"

***

The mid-February sunlight streamed through the Fiesta's rear window, its obnoxious brightness waking Candace with a start as it fell upon her face. She realised she had drooled a little while sleeping, and used the back of her hand to wipe her mouth as she pushed herself to an upright position.

She was alone in the vehicle, which meant Richard had likely woken a short time before her.

With a quick glance through the windows on all sides to ensure all was clear, Candace scooted forward across the back seat, opened the door, and stepped out into the day.

It was cold, and though the Sun was trying its best the remnants of an overnight frost were plainly visible atop the roof of the car.

She wandered slowly around the carpark, taking care to make as little noise as she could. If the night before had taught her anything, it was that zombies appeared to be attracted to noise and while she was as certain as she could be that there were none in the immediate vicinity, Candace figured it could only pay to be cautious.

She found Richard sitting upon a row of shopping trolleys, stacked horizontally as they were beneath a shelter close to the store entrance.

"I'd say penny for your thoughts, but those trolleys take pound coins," Candace said quietly, as she approached. "Been up here for long?"

"About twenty minutes or so," the man replied, his gaze fixed upon the closed sliding door some thirty yards distant. "You know there's probably a few zombies in there, right?"

"Yeah, never doubted that for a second."

"So the question is, how do we get them out so we can play a game of Supermarket Sweep? I mean neither of us know how long this... situation, is gonna' last. I figure we should get a few days' worth of supplies at least."

"Famous last words and all, but I really can't see this whole thing lasting much longer than that. I mean there are plans in place, right? They'll call in the Army or whatever, to take care of the zombies, and then things will be able to go back to normal."

"That's pretty much my thinking. 'Course it could end up being a whole Walking Dead scenario, but I figure positive thinking is definitely the way to go at the moment."

"Let's not worry about what may or may not happen," said Candace, much more lightheartedly than she actually intended. "I don't know about you but right now, my caffeine and nicotine levels are both well below where I'd like them to be, so we need to work out how to get into the store, get what we need, and get the fuck back out of there with our arses intact."

Clean Up on Aisle Five

Richard grinned as despite the fact he really had no idea what he was doing, he managed to get the vehicle running, a small European hatchback of some kind, having spent several minutes fiddling with the exposed wires beneath the steering column.

Making use of a relatively sturdy stick retrieved from the ground beneath the row of trees that lined one side of the carpark he jammed the accelerator pedal to the floor and the engine quickly reached a somewhat high-pitched, painful crescendo. And that was where it remained as Richard left the vehicle in the carpark's approximate centre.

"Jesus fucking Christ that's loud," he said, muttering to himself as he gave Candace the thumbs' up. From his vantage point beneath the shelter, once again sitting upon the shopping trolleys, he watched as the girl entered the supermarket via the automatic doors. Once inside she stopped and reached to a point just above the door, on tip-toes in order to do so, and flicked the switch, allowing the door to remain open.

Once that was done she darted across the twenty-five yards or so of open space, between the now open doors, and the trolley shelter.

"Nicely done."

"Right back at you," Candace replied, quietly, as the two of them fixed their collective gaze upon the supermarket entrance. "Now we just sit back and wait, I guess."

They did not have to wait at all long for within moments, zombies began to trickle out of the supermarket, moaning, groaning, and shuffling, as they made their way across the carpark towards the hatchback.

Men, women, and children... Former men, women, and children, anyway... As far as either Candace or Richard could see, the virus did not seem to discriminate at all. The zombies did not appear to pay their fellow undead much heed, either. When one bumped into another there was no retaliation, no sign at all that they might attack each other.

"We give it ten minutes," said Richard, his voice so much of a whisper that it was almost inaudible. "I figure that should be plenty long enough for the place to empty out. Then we go in, and shut the doors behind us."

***

Once inside, the two of them headed straight for the clothing section and grabbed a pair of rucksacks.

"We fill these with anything we need," said Candace. "We're going to be on foot, so remember anything too heavy is only going to slow us down if we need to make a run for it."

"Guess a few six-packs are out of the question then," Richard replied with a chuckle. "Be careful. We'll meet by the cigarette counter in ten minutes. Figure you're going to want to top things off with all the smokes you can squeeze in."

"How well you know me." Candace grinned, turning as she headed towards the health-related section of the supermarket.

It seemed that she and Richard were the first people to enter the building since everyone had turned into zombies, for although there was a good deal of produce scattered on the floor where members of the undead community had likely bumped into shelving units and knocked things off, there was no sign that anything had been raided or stockpiled.

She held one of her rucksacks open at shelf height and slid packets upon packets of ibuprofen, aspirin, and antihistamines, into it, before turning to the other side of the aisle whereupon she repeated the process with feminine products and cleansing wipes, all of which she knew for a fact were going to come in incredibly handy at some point in the not-too distant future.

Candace grabbed a tin opener from a display at the end of the aisle as she passed, and made her way down among the various bottles and cans of soft drinks. She grabbed a four-pack of Red Bull and forced that into the already near-full rucksack, and helped herself to a single can of the energy drink from the shelf which she downed in situ in four or five easy swallows. It was the mineral water she was most interested in though, and she broke down a multipack of twenty-four small bottles, squeezing what she could into the same rucksack and dropping the rest into the still-empty one she carried.

"Not gonna' lie, I kinda' like this kind of shopping," she said with a chuckle as she rounded the corner of the canned goods aisle to find Richard already there, filling both his rucksacks with as much as he could. She proceeded to do the same.

"It definitely has its perks, for sure," the young man replied with a grin.

Soon their luggage was full, and that left only one thing.

"Cigarettes, and then I'm done," said Candace.

"I'll meet you there in a second," Richard replied, turning as he started to run down the aisle in the opposite direction. "There's a sports section, reckon a couple of cricket bats might come in handy."

"Alright," said Candace, turning. But she had taken no more than two steps before a zombie rounded the corner of the aisle. "Shit!"

She had no idea where the creature had come from, but she really did not have time to think about the fact that it was pretty weird neither she nor Richard had seen such a thing in the store until that point.

The rucksacks upon her back were heavy but manageably so, and she had no doubt she would be able to outrun the creature, and would probably have managed to do so had she not taken a blind step backwards and slipped upon an unfortunately placed, stray can of plum tomatoes.

Cursing beneath her breath as she struggled to right herself the creature was upon her, its teeth bared and arms outstretched, though by the time it fell onto her it was headless and she was absolutely coated in whatever insides and entrails spewed forth.

She wiped the goo from her eyes and looked up to see a woman with her hand outstretched, attired in a pair of sturdy boots, a pair of incredibly tight, short, shorts, and what very much appeared to be a vintage Nirvana t-shirt. To top off the ensemble, she carried a hockey stick, and if the blood dripping from it was anything to go by it was with that, that the woman had taken care of the zombie.

"Thanks for the save," said Candace as she accepted the woman's hand and assistance in getting to her feet.

"All good," she replied, her accent an odd combination of American and Eastern European. "Get your friend. We need to go, now."