rossi | 10. Working Stiffs

"Yeah, since Z-Day, things have gotten a bit trickier in our line of work. Used to be all you needed to worry about was a broken gas line, maybe a pocket of methane catching alight from a spark, unstable tunnels collapsing, flooding, that sort of thing. Now days... well, lots of folks, when things got back, thought to go hide underground. It seems crazy now, but there is a logic there. Tunnels are easier to block that doors - you just knock the supports out and you've got a dead end. You can travel easier - from one end of the city to the other without seeing daylight. And there's the whole bomb shelter mentality. When something bad happens, go to ground.

"Of course, all it took was one infected person and your safe underground community turned into a death trap. Sure no-one could get in, but no-one was getting out either and after a few weeks, everyone was a goner. And they're still down there, getting hungrier by the day.

"Since the war ended, reconstruction's been the top priority. Getting the power back on, getting people back into housing, getting the sewerage and water back on. Problem is, all the infrastructure is down there, with them. And no-one's crazy enough to go down there and take 'em out - that's suicide, right there.

"So we came up with something different. If we can't go down to them, we'll get them to come up to us."

The crew is setting up the 'gate', which isn't really that much different from the cattle gates used in stockyards. It's designed to allow one body through at a time, to control the flow. Today's site is a sewerage tunnel - the grating was reinforced with iron plating during the war and it was a struggle to cut it off quietly, but they're ready now.

A van pulls up, bigger than a mini van but smaller than a delivery truck, one of those mini-moving vans they used to hire out. The crew busy themselves getting into position as the driver and his passenger get out and move to the back to open the door. Those by the gate are armed - the classic 'blunt instrument', mostly, given the rarity of ammunition still - and they have an air of grim expectation.

The back door of the van rattles open to reveal a cage. Inside is one of the infected. In life it was male, middle-aged - now it is a slavering dead-eyed creature with grey skin sloughing off in patches. Somehow, someone has managed to dress it in an orange jumpsuit, the sort convicts wear and the effect is disconcerting, a reminder that no matter what they are now, zombies were once human beings.

It's not a thought anyone is comfortable with.

The effect is short-lived. As soon as the infected detects us, it begins to moan, that distinctive, spine-chilling sound a zombie on the hunt makes. Everyone moves as one to insert their earplugs. And then we wait.

It doesn't take too long, although it feels like forever, listening to that groaning keen. It's faint at first, but then there's an answering moan, then another, echoed by the shuffle of feet. The first infected to reach the cage pauses only briefly as the 'doors' clang before and behind it, straining to move forward. One of the workers, a younger man with arms like a weightlifter's, takes off its head with a smooth motion and the body collapses, held upright by the cage. Two crew with HAZMAT coveralls and gloves do the removal, dumping the remains in the skip brought in for the job and the next one is let through to meet the same end.

At the end of the day, the skip is full and the crew are exhausted. The 'judas goat' is hauled off to wherever it's kept and earplugs are finally removed, sounds strangely sharp and clear after the prolonged muffling. I share a cigarette with the foreman, who is watching as the disposal team comes in to remove the skip and set its contents on fire - it's the only way to be sure.

"Staff turnover's pretty high in this job. Can't say I blame 'em - listening to that sound all day, it makes a man squirrelly. But we're getting things done, but by bit. and we haven't lost a man yet. And that makes a difference."

He grins and blows a smoke ring. "It's a tough job, all right, but someone has to do it."