Originally this chapter of NLB was going to be split into two
parts. The thing is, I couldn't find a decent place to break the chapter
in two so I decided to put the entire 6500 words here instead.
If this is your first time here, go to the index to start from the beginning.
This chapter, jumps back to Caryn's perspective, in terms of time
line, well you'll be able to see. Any feedback would be much
appreciated.
3: Caryn Denny had arrived early, as
usual. He had always been the reliable member of the drunken duo, always
on time, unlike his counterpart Mr. 'What, there was something I was
supposed to do?'
The two of them were a right pair, both about 6
foot tall, Phillip probably a little taller, both of them with long
lanky, brown hair, brown eyes; generally adorning themselves with Metal
T-Shirts and ripped jeans. The difference being that Phillip had a
sharper jawline and slightly hawkish nose whereas Denny had rounder,
softer features. They almost could have been brothers.
Denny had
brought a girl, a petite brunette, with hazel brown eyes, standing at
around 5’6, she reminded me of darker skinned Beyoncé. She politely
shook my hand and introduced herself as Jocelyn. She had brought a box
of After Eights as a dinner gift, Denny brought out a bottle of Chilean
Red called ‘Casilliero del Diablo’. In turn I was a little speechless,
Denny had never so much as mentioned a girl before, he was 23 and I was
starting to think that he was gay. Not that there would have been
anything wrong with that.
“Why don't you come and help me open it?” I said making frantic 'follow me' motions to him with my eyes.
Jocelyn sat down on my three seat sofa in the living/dining room, while
I bullied Denny into telling me where they had met. This was big news.
It only took seconds of pestering for him to explain, a cheeky little
smile on his face as he divulged to me that he had met Jocelyn at a pub a
couple of weeks back and were getting along but not dating yet . I
practically cooed with delight, he gave me this awkward look.
“What?” I asked. “Am I overreacting?”
He shrugged.
“Okay, maybe a little.” I admitted. “I promise not to impose.”
I straightened myself up and tried to not smirk as I poured us three glasses of wine.
Denny and I walked back into my main room and sat down in the chair
opposite Jocelyn and Denny sat next to her. I explained that the food
would be ready in less than an hour, and that we were waiting for
Phillip and my other guests to arrive.
Jocelyn was nice, she was
an English Lit student, and was near the end of her second year at
Sussex. As she was telling me about her courses I kept looking at Denny
who was hanging on her every word. I put on some music, one of Denny’s
favourites: 'So much for the Afterglow' by Everclear. Jocelyn asked for a
copy about three songs in and it was then that I knew she was perfect
for him.
Denny was practically glowing.
Phillip was still not
there, this didn’t surprise me all that much as it was likely that he
had forgotten about this dinner completely but I thought it strange that
Kerry and Reese were late too.
“So what do you do?” Jocelyn asked me.
“I work in a shop; well actually I am working up to assistant manager.”
I replied feeling awkward. Here was this girl, barely out of her teens
asking me what I did. What did I do? I worked in a clothes shop, a
small, malnourished boutique. A drab, hippy little place with ochre
walls and poorly lit displays in grimy windows. I worked for just above
minimum wage but only because the owner, a woman with bangles on her
wrists and threads in her hair and flowery dresses, thought it a crime
to pay me any less. I graduated with a first and here I was, hoping that
my useless owner might consider me for a promotion.
Then the phone, sitting on the stand next to my chair, rang.
Shaking the thoughts from my head I picked up the receiver and answered:
“Hello?”
“Hi, it's Phillip.” The all too familiar voice sounded out.
“Where are you?” I said, feeling myself start to fume, it was obvious that he had gone out drinking.
“Not important, is Denny there?” I noted a hint of desperation in his voice.
“Yes, why, do you want to talk to him?” I asked.
“Lock the door now and don't let anyone in but me.”
“I beg your pardon?” My mind was reeling, what was going on? Was he in
trouble with drug dealers, debt collectors or worse?
“Just do it.”
“Look-
“For fuck's sake just do it!” He yelled into my receiver. “Look, for
once, instead of arguing with me just do what I ask you. Lock the doors,
and turn on the television if you want to know what is going on.”
I
started to panic; this was different to our other fights. This time we
weren't verbally sparring over some little thing and I didn't know why
he was getting so upset.
“Look, I promise you I'll be
there soon.” His voice was calm. “Can you just promise me you won't open
the door to anyone except me?”
“What about my guests?” I
asked as I could feel tears brimming up; I was confused by his manner.
Why was he doing this?
“How were they getting there? Were they coming by car?”
“No, Phillip what is going on, are you in trouble?” As I said that
Denny looked up at me from his seat next to Jocelyn. “Phillip are you
listening to me?”
“If they didn't come by car then they are fucking dead already.” He said bluntly.
“Phillip you are scaring me.” I said, fighting back the tears.
“I'm sorry, I... look I have to go.” He hesitated again; when he spoke
his voice was softer. “I promised I'd see you soon, but if anything
happens... shit, I love you.”
I was stunned; the big, drunk, buffoon had said it.
He hung up before I had a chance to say anything else and then I did
start to cry. Within seconds I felt Denny's arms around me as I
blubbered. I rested my head against his shoulder and smelt his
deodorant; it was the same as Phillip's: 'Sure, for men'.
I patted him on the shoulder and pulled away.
He asked me what was wrong.
“Lock the door, please.” I asked handing him the keys.
He didn't ask any more questions and did as I requested.
I looked at Jocelyn and gave her a pathetic smile:
“Did I smudge my make up?” I asked finding a tissue and wiping under my eyes, looking for evidence.
“Not badly.” She said, looking concerned. “Bad news?”
“No, no.” I laughed picking up the remote from my coffee table and
switching on the television, I half expected to see Phillip's face
plastered across it with a title like 'wanted for murder'. “That was
just my boyfriend.”
“Just your boyfriend?” Jocelyn said in disbelief.
I plonked myself down next to her and Denny came back and sat the other
side. I flicked to the BBC and it was the news. There was some kind of
police official giving a statement to a circle of microphones and tape
recorders.
“... Do not try to leave your house
under any circumstances. The police are currently working in conjunction
with the military to get this sudden threat under control. What I do
advise is that if you are in any of the listed quarantine areas, it is
even more important that you do not try to leave those cities and towns
to avoid spreading the virus...”
It cut to a reporter,
unremarkable in every way, his breath steaming from his mouth as he
started to speak. His white hands clutching his mike.
“We
cannot be sure what is the cause of these outbursts of violence that
have emerged, seemingly, from nowhere. Some experts are suggesting that
it maybe drug related, some kind of terrorist or immigrant upsurge. We
do know that the new Prime Minister will be holding an emergency press
conference in only a matter of seconds...”
The scene changed
to the usual conference hall type, the borders of the walls adorned with
ornately carved plumes with gold leaf coverings, behind the center
pedestal was a classical painting of some sort possibly Baroque period.
The camera panned the chairs in front of the podium; it was easy to see
that there were no way near as many reporters as normal. Flashes started
going off as the Prime Minister walked in and smiled at the 'crowd'. If
Phillip had been there he would have called the man a 'suit' and it
felt quite appropriate name for this person who stepped up to his place
in front of the reporters. He could have been tall but it was hard to
tell by the way that the camera was pointed at him, he wore his colours
in place with his political party and his tie offset them by being
green. His face was drawn and pallid, the fake smile stretched over his
chin looked more forced than the times I'd seen him before.
A few more flashes went off before he started speaking:
“I
would first like to reassure everyone that we have everything under
control. I have been in close communications with the Ministry of
Defense. There will be a soldier on every street corner of the affected
cities, a police officer on all those not.”
He then went
straight to questions, which struck me as odd. All politicians like to
waffle on about nothing in particular, yet this man's opening speech had
been so brief.
“Is it true that these attacks may
be drug related, and if so how do you explain that these incidents are
happening all over the world?”
The suit's smile almost faltered. I noticed he was sweating a bit.
“First
off, hello. Secondly, I think that 'attacks' is too strong a word for
what is going on at present. Furthermore we have no strong evidence
either way. We suspect that some of these egregious acts may have had
something to do with narcotics and the use thereof.”
Another
reporter asked him if he didn't find the increasing number of reports of
gangs roaming the streets in most major cities across the world
worrying.
“It is hard at this present moment to
gauge seriousness of such claims. Bearing in mind that so far these so
called 'gangs' are insulated cases.”
Another reporter pointed
out that television and radio broadcasts were advising people to stay
inside and that the Prime Minister was calling in the army had
instigated such call to arms only minutes previously.
“That does seem like you are taking this situation quite seriously. Wouldn't you say?”
The ‘suit’ was now sweating profusely. I marveled at the drops he had
to wipe with a handkerchief from his brow. I'd never seen such a public
display of errors in terms of makeup and lighting.
I looked at Denny and Jocelyn, who returned my attention with concern engraved in their faces.
“It
is merely a precaution, a safety net in case the situation becomes
aggravated. There have been a couple of reports of possible Al-Qaeda
links to some of the occurrences in America. So yes in a way we have to
take it seriously, but no I don't think there is any real need for
concern at this current time.”
The man indicated to another journalist.
“The blackout two weeks ago, this disturbing new virus that has been going around, do you think that these might all be linked?”
The Prime Minister laughed jovially, despite his perspiration.
“I sincerely doubt it.”
The question worried me the most. I wondered what if they were all connected?
Had Phillip been attacked? If he had why hadn't he told me? Was he
sick, no, he wouldn't be coming over if he was, would he? Did he think,
maybe, that by closing the door that would keep me safe from the
disease?
I'd had a headache yesterday, and after the television scare I had considered going to the doctor's. Was I ill?
“What
about the virus, how do we know that the military are immune? If they
are, then does that mean there is an inoculation? If they aren't
impervious how can you guarantee that there will be enough able bodies
to back up your claims?”
The ‘suit’ coughed, reached for a glass of water took a big slurp then recommenced.
“That isn't just one question, that's three masquerading as one.
“I
can safely and decisively say that.” He coughed again. “I can say
without a shadow of a doubt there is nothing that we cannot handle. As I
said, so far in Britain, these anomalies are isolated to a few areas
and committed by deviants who will be apprehended.”
I switched
channels, tired of hearing responses that contained no actual answers.
ITV news was blaming lax immigration laws and increased gun crime for
the outbursts of violence.
Channel four had snuck a reporter into
Manchester, there were no visuals. But he was describing a crowd 'of
what appears to be two hundred homeless, drunks stumbling down the
street'.
“This reminds me of that cartoon made by that guy who did the Snowman book.” Jocelyn said.
“The Snowman book?” I said frowning, trying to take everything in.
“You know,” she said. “The one with the terrible ‘I’m walking through the air’ song.”
I looked at her in disbelief.
All of a sudden someone started banging on my front door.
Denny and I got up, there was a small hallway leading from my dining
room/living room and the banging, that persisted, echoed through it as
we walked towards the front door. Bracing myself against the coats on
the coat rack. I attempted to say something.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“It's me.” I recognised Phillip's voice. “Let us in.”
I quickly unlocked the door and opened it.
There he stood, almost six foot, a big grin on his face. His arms were
drenched in blood, and there was a meat cleaver in his right hand.
It took all the energy I could muster to not freak out.
He took a couple of steps forward and I backed away, almost bumping
into Denny. He stopped and frowned then he must have seen what I could
see, because he swore under his breath.
“Look, Caryn, I can explain.” He started.
My attention was drawn briefly to the person who walked in behind. I
was going to look back at Phillip but then I had to double take.
It was Dan.
Then I dragged my eyes back to Phillip.
“We haven't got much time.” Phillip said as Dan closed the door.
“I'll explain as much as I know then we have to get out of here.”
Dan, shit, Dan, the great departed.
I looked at him and he seemed to be as surprised to see me as I was to see him.
He hadn't changed much, except he looked even more like a hippy (or
'fucking hippy' if you listened to Phillip) than he had done. Shit, it
had been four years; I wondered if I had changed since we had been
together. I laughed at myself inwardly, it had been four years, I wasn't
a broke student anymore (I was now a half broke employee). My hair was
shorter and I didn't wear those stupid long dresses I'd been so
enamoured with. He still had dreadlocks (damp with what I imagine was
blood), still wearing those awful T-shirts with Hendrix or Jim Morrison
(today it was actually Led Zeppelin) and baggy flares. He couldn’t be
more 1960s if he tried.
“Okay.” I said slowly to Phillip, drawing my gaze back to my boyfriend. “Why are you covered in blood?”
Phillip shifted uncomfortably looking at his shoes. Then he slid the meat cleaver between his belt and jeans.
“This is going to sound unbelievable.” He sighed, looking at all
three of us, Jocelyn having joined us. “But this is the truth and my
friend Dan here, can back me up.”
Dan nodded. Then Phillip said the most ridiculous thing:
“Brighton is being overrun by zombies.” He said, raising his hand
to silence me. “I didn't want to tell you over the phone because I knew
you were going to react like this.”
“React like what?” I asked. “Like my boyfriend is a retarded, possibly psychotic person?”
“Look, it’s true, all of it.” Phillip had this wild eyed look to him that made him look properly crazy now.
“Hi, my name is Dan.” Dan took care to wipe his hand against the
thigh of his flares before doing shaking my hand. Then he shook Denny's,
and Jocelyn's.
I started trying to process what Phillip had just
said. I mean, zombies appeared in movies not on our streets. Yet it all
sort of made sense; in a psychotic Hollywood-gone-wrong sort of way.
That or Phillip had met up with Dan in a pub got really drunk and then
for some absurd reason decided that they were now best friends and that
the only way to seal their relationship was to start murdering people.
“Have we got any of that JD left?” Phillip asked.
Denny got him the bottle that we had stored underneath my kitchen sink
and he began to drink. As I watched him, I found my voice again:
“Phillip, please tell me you saw the news, you met Dan in a pub and
you thought it would be really funny to play a trick on us.” I said as
calmly as I could.
He stopped drinking; he slowly pulled the neck of the bottle from his lips and cocked an eyebrow.
“Why the fuck would I do that?” Phillip asked incredulously. “Have you been watching the news?”
Why indeed.
“We've been lucky so far but we need to move while we still can.”
Phillip said, letting out a satisfied grunt as he finished what was left
of the JD. He always did that when he had his first whiskey of the day.
“Where are you going?” Jocelyn said timidly.
“Dan's place.” Phillip said. “Sorry, but who are you?”
She told him.
“Why don't we just stay here?” I complained. “If it is so dangerous out there, why are we going to risk it?”
“Dan got me here,” Phillip said, casting a dark look. “I'm not letting him go back out there on his own.”
“It's okay.” Dan started to say. Then Phillip stopped him.
“No, you helped me. Besides I think we should stick together, you
know they always split up in films and then most of them die.” Phillip
walked towards my room, leaving bloody footsteps on the wooden floor.
My boyfriend returned with the baseball bat he had given me as protection.
“When they split up, the only ones to live are the lead lady, and
sometimes man. In zombie films it's even rarer that anyone lives.” He
handed Denny the cleaver. “I can't risk not being the lead.”
I wanted to tell Phillip that this wasn't a film, that I wasn't Jamie lee Curtis.
No matter how hard I tried to convince myself, I couldn't see a reasonable explanation why he was doing this.
“It isn't too far to the car.” Phillip said putting his ear to the
door. “Sweetie, go and get two decent sized knives. You and...” He
looked at Denny's partner.
“Jocelyn.” She whispered in a frightened voice.
Phillip returned the side of his head to the door, a look of concentration on his face.
Dan took my arm gently and asked me to show him where the kitchen was.
Dumbly I walked him there. My apartment wasn't big but the cooking area
was a separate room and isolated enough so as to make the conversation
that ensued between Denny and Phillip incomprehensible.
“If you have anything big, like a rolling pin or knife like one of
these.” Dan waved the blade in his hand. “Best to take one of them.”
“Dan, this is crazy.”
“Wish it was.” He shrugged. “We almost couldn't get out of my block
of flats. We broke into one of the apartments and used the scaffolding.
We would have been dead otherwise.”
I rummaged through my cutlery draw and picked two of the biggest knives I had.
“I didn't know you and Phillip were friends.” I said. He seemed
sober which must have been some kind of novelty for us both. He also had
an expression I'd not seen on his face before.
We stared at each
other, it was hard to tell if he wanted to say anything, his eyes were
glazed, not drunk glazed, something else.
“We only met
tonight.” Dan broke eye contact and started through the doorway and back
towards Phillip. Then over his shoulder: “You should probably turn the
oven off.”
I had completely forgotten about the dinner. I didn't
want to look at how bad it was, I reasoned that I could give Phillip a
bollocking later, and just spun the dial to '0?c'.
We returned to
the hallway with what we had. Phillip was still listening at the door
when we walked up to him, his hair covering almost all of his face.
“I don't think there is anything there, yet.” He swung the door open.
“Could I at least pack a few things?” I protested.
“No time.” Phillip said darting onto the dark metal staircase that led to the pavement.
Denny followed straight after, I could hear the clanking of their footfalls on each degree as they descended.
Jocelyn looked at me and we both hesitated, she shook her head at me. She had a half hysterical smile on her face.
“This is a joke right?” Jocelyn asked no one in particular.
“No it's not,” Dan replied, sounding laid back. “Now you guys better start moving or we'll get left behind.”
Like a starter gun had been fired off in our heads, we ran. Jocelyn was
in front of me, her silhouette standing out against the light of the
street lamps glaring at the corner of my building. I could make out
Denny and Phillip at the ground floor. Denny was talking excitedly, but I
couldn't hear what it was about.
I could hear Dan panting behind
me; I almost smiled at how out of shape he was since we last met. I
wondered, bizarrely, if he had a beer gut hidden under that baggy top.
As I tried to delight in the fallen ways of previous lovers it started
to gnaw at me.
Why was I able to listen to Dan? Why was Denny's
chatter, although indecipherable, audible? Why it all wasn’t drowned out
by drunken pub goers being evicted at closing time?
Admittedly my
apartment was as far away from a pub as you could get from one in
Brighton (well Hove actually), it had been why I'd chosen it, yet there
should have at least been a few inebriated chants.
Then we were
greeted by a cacophony of noise. By this time Phillip was standing at
the corner of the alley way, Denny had gone ahead. His position was
casting a long shadow back towards us,
At first it was only a few
cries, bad enough as it was, but then another, and another, all
harmonising with first ones, the noise was increasing as I got closer to
the corner where Denny and Phillip were standing. In the safety of my
little flat with music turned up I had been oblivious, but now, this was
real.
It occurred to me for the first time in my life that I might die.
Phillip urged us to move, I forced myself to run faster. I saw Jocelyn
hesitate so I grabbed her right hand and pulled her with her me.
Dan accelerated past me, not quite as unfit as I had thought, or maybe urged on by fear.
The car was only a few feet away, parked awkwardly on a double yellow
line. Denny was waiting for us looking around frantically for the source
of the screams.
Phillip was behind me, keeping pace behind me, he could have over taken me if he had wanted to but stayed in line.
We slammed our backs against the side of the car; Phillip turned around
and put a protective arm around me. There was the scraping of metal
against metal as Dan tried to find the place for his key in the lock.
Someone started yelling, it was closer than the other shouts. A man
hurtled into view about a hundred yards from us. He was dressed in a
suit and tie; his shiny shoes clopped against the tarmac as his jacket
fluttered out behind him. He was waving his hands and yelling what
seemed like 'no,no,no'.
Phillip took a step away from me in his direction and braced himself with the bat out in front of him.
About a dozen more people appeared behind the first, also flailing their arms and running at break neck speed.
“Oh my God, oh my God, holy shit.” Jocelyn blathered beside me.
I looked over my shoulder and beyond the hood of the small car. There
were more of 'them' coming from the other direction. These were slower,
but in greater number.
I heard the comforting sound of the central
locking flipping up on all the doors. I pulled the handle of the back
door and opened it, pushing Jocelyn out of the way in the process. She
was watching the approaching attacker.
I slid hurriedly into the
place furthest from the door. I gazed out the opening, behind the first
thirteen runners, there were now maybe thirty more, these dispersed in a
haphazard manner, some slinking into back roads, others followed the
ones approaching us.
Jocelyn was practically thrown in next to me, Denny diving in straight after.
The first man was almost upon us. Phillip jerked the passenger door
open and almost had the door closed but just at that point the man
managed to jam his arms between the two frames and attempted to pry them
apart. Phillip pulled hard and the runner squealed in pain.
I heard myself scream. Phillip opened the door and kicked the bastard in the knee, and he went down with a grunt.
Phillip went to close the door again when the man called out weakly, I barely heard him:
“Wait, please.”
I saw Phillip stare at him in disbelief, then reach forward to pull him
in. He yanked our attacker onto his lap then yelled to Dan 'to get the
fuck out of here'.
The first proper group was almost on us and as
the car pulled away I got a look at them, their faces ashen, all of them
had their eyes turned up to the top of their heads.
“How do they see?” I asked, but no one heard me over Denny and Jocelyn's yells of terror.
Dan gunned his car and caught a few of the group with his bonnet, sending them spinning into the gutter.
I heard our new companion cry out as a couple tried to grab his
outstretched legs. Phillip pulled him in further and slammed his side
shut. I saw, with revulsion, that he severed a hand in the process.
Dan piled the car through more of the assailants then he moved it
straight at the slower group I'd seen first, and in the direction of the
center of Brighton.
The man in Phillip's lap started thanking us profusely.
“What's your name?” Phillip asked.
His response was lost as bodies bumped against the wind shield and flew out behind us.
“Sorry what was that?”
“Gray, I'm Gray.” He said, sounding calmer.
“Well done Gray, you almost got yourself killed.” Phillip said scornfully. “Dumbarse, why didn't you speak?”
Gray composed himself as best he could then crawled over my partner and
into the back seat next to me, giving me an apologetic look as he did
so. After he was sat properly he addressed Phillip:
“I
didn't have time.” He checked his arms and chest; I couldn't tell if he
was looking for wounds or cigarettes. “I didn't know I had to.”
“I bet you saw 'For the love of the Game', didn't you?” Phillip sneered.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The Baseball film that was on the other night.” Phillip said.
“The one with Kevin Costner in it?” Gray enquired. Phillip nodded. “Yes, I saw it at the cinema, but what's-
“This is what I'm fucking talking about!” Phillip bellowed, making us jump.
Phillip leaned around and poked a finger menacingly into Gray's chest.
“YOU WATCH A PIECE OF SHIT FILM LIKE THAT AND I BET YOU'VE NEVER SEEN EVIL DEAD!”
I grabbed Phillip's arm and pulled it away from the poor man, glaring at him as I did so. He pacified somewhat.
“Well actually,” Gray hesitated. “I have. But-
Phillip snorted and then added grumpily:
“So how come you can't recognise a zombie when you see one?”
“Z-Zombie?” Gray spluttered. “Oh come on. That's, that's pure fantasy.”
“Actually.” This from Dan. “Couldn't the zombies talk in 'Evil Dead'?”
Phillip shrugged off the comment:
“Gray have you seen 'Dawn of the Dead'?”
“Yes.”
“Well there you go!”
“The people I was with, the people in the pub...” Gray trailed off.
Dan ran a few more zombies over.
Phillip went to say something.
“Phillip, please enough?” I shouted at him. All I wanted to do at that point was close my eyes and go to sleep.
Phillip turned his anger towards me, but then it dissipated as he saw
my face. I realised that I must look terrified, and he seemed to
comprehend that he wasn't helping.
His face softened then he
flipped back into a proper sitting position in time to laugh at another
road kill. I watched the body on the road behind us collapse into a
physically impossible contortion, and then scramble up to a standing
position
“We'll be at my house in about five or so
minutes.” Dan said looking at us in the rear view mirror. “Be prepared
to run.”
“Could you lend me the keys? I need to get home.”
Gray suggested timidly. “I need to get in touch with my family, my
friends.”
This elicited a guffaw from Phillip.
“You mean give you the car?”
“I'd bring it back.” Gray offered, wary of Phillip.
“No you wouldn't.” Phillip laughed again.
I saw a man kneeling in the road just ahead of the car's headlights, he
started to get up as Dan bore down on him, and his mouth was dripping
blood. Then he went under the wheels with a grotesque thud. The whole
car shook as we trampled him.
“Look around you, it's not that you wouldn't, you couldn't, people are dying all around us.”
The vehicle went silent as we looked out the windows. There were fires
starting all over the place, zombies littered the streets, we approached
the central square of Brighton, and although the road itself was fairly
clear either side of the Perspex bus shelters was carnage.
I
watched as one bloodied victim sat up, eyes rolling up into the top of
her head. She would have been in her mid-twenties, she had on a tattered
pin striped suit. She might even have been pretty before something had
bitten and clawed chunks out of her face neck and arms. I looked out
through the back window to try and catch what happened to her next but
the glass had now steamed up.
As Dan made a dodgy right turn to
head down to the beach, I caught a glimpse of a group of maybe six or
seven people being chased by ten or eleven fast zombies and another
dozen or so of the slow ones, two or three of them casually lurched
after our car.
I felt the car churn forward underneath me as Dan
sped it down the hill. He turned it right at the bottom then almost
immediately right again and into an impressive looking driveway that ran
perpendicular with the sea.
The houses that weren't burnt down
looked expensive; it was a step up from the pathetic little apartment
that Dan and I had shared.
The area was strangely calm; I could see
some figures lurking in the shadows at the other side of the park
opposite and a few more up the road. Unlike the shopping center, there
didn't seem to be too much conflict.
“We haven't been
noticed yet.” Phillip said opening his door, the bat in his other hand.
“Let’s go before they head for the car.”
“Who?” I asked bewildered, there wasn't anyone around.
“I want to catch the ones in the flats off guard.” Phillip got out of
the car and marched towards the flight of steps that I assumed led to
Dan's place. It was about 5 stories high, the ‘ground floor’ was done up
with ornate plastering but past the first floor it was exposed brick,
the entire front was latticed with scaffolding and it looked like it was
in the process of having graffiti removed.
I got out, Gray was
right behind me. Denny exited on the other side and chased after his
friend, hopping around the car, Jocelyn came to meet with me, slipping
her hand back into mine and giving it a squeeze. I looked at her, hoping
I looked more confident than I felt, and nodded at her.
Dan followed Denny, his pace less decisive.
“We can't take them head on.” Dan protested, stepping up next to my boyfriend.
“Why not?” Phillip said confidently. “There are more of us.”
“There's probably twenty of them.”
“And they are slow and stupid.” Phillip shot back. “Besides if we block the door we can keep the rest of them out.”
“That's too dangerous.” Dan argued on.
“Caryn could you give Gray your-
Phillip didn't finish his sentence because two zombies came hurtling
out of the broken front door of the building. Phillip and Dan moved up
to greet them, Denny, not to be left out, brought up the rear. Behind
these two first sprinters there were more undead coming out of the
entrance.
Jocelyn screamed as Phillip brained the first 'runner'
and Dan stabbed the second in the forehead. I didn't know what I'd
expected, but one thing was for sure, I wasn't prepared for that much
blood.
Both bodies collapsed, jittering and spasming as they slid onto the grass of the building’s front garden.
Denny hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his options, it didn't
take him long to bolt after the two who advanced on the zombie mob that
staggered in front of them.
For a few seconds I wondered if my life was going to turn into one big 80's video nasty and then I hastened behind them.
I looked at Gray and Jocelyn, he was standing with his mouth open, his
glasses slid down from the bridge of his nose, gazing dumbly at Phillip,
Jocelyn had started crying in coughing fits with her free hand clasped
against her mouth.
Conscious of how vulnerable we were I pulled her
after me, towards the house. I looked around hurriedly, wondering if
any of the zombies had caught on that there was food in the area.
To my horror I saw a woman running at full speed, her lower jaw and eyes were missing, and she was almost upon us.
She pounced on Jocelyn yanking her from my grasp, her teeth aiming for
my friend's throat. Jocelyn screamed in horror as the woman gripped at
her flailing wrists and tried to lean forward.
I hesitated, no, I froze.
I'm not Dan, I'm not Phillip, I told myself. I can't do this, I'm not capable.
I looked around desperately for some help. Someone who would pull this
beast from off of Jocelyn then I looked at Gray and saw his face,
contorted in fear. He was starting to back away, looking for somewhere
to hide. In those split seconds, he made me sick to the stomach. Not
just for his brazen display of cowardice, for being a pussy; but because
he was mirroring my own thoughts. He was being just as useless as me.
I gripped the steak knife with both hands and yelled 'YOU CUNT' as I
jammed the ten inches into the creature's cranium. The sentiment was
aimed more at Gray than the zombie.
As I felt the blade lodge into
the thing’s brain a thought flashed through my head about when I went to
see a play with my Mum called the 'Vagina Monologues' and they asked us
to shout out that word as way of reclaiming it from the connotations
and the ugliness it had acquired. I had sat there laughing as my mother
and I joined in with the crowd. My mother, a no nonsense house wife, who
had no idea what exactly the plays were going to be about gleefully
enjoying the 'liberation'.
But now a cunt was this fuckhead Gray,
standing and gawping at me as I yanked my bloodstained knife from the
dead body's skull, I gave him the foulest look I could muster.
Briefly
my attention was drawn back to Jocelyn pushed the body off her,
spluttering, as she got to her feet but then I scanned the area again.
There was a group of two or three that had started stumbling towards us
from a pedestrian walk way that led out into the square it was hard to
tell if they were heading for us as they heads bobbed in and out of view
behind a hedge but I didn’t want to find out.
I hastened Jocelyn
to go for the entrance, I looked at Gray. He snapped out of whatever had
been going through his head and he brushed past both of us and hurried
up the steps.
I swung my head round as a door three houses up burst
open and a man came hurtling out. He lost his balance and rolled down
the steps of his house, yelping with each impact.
Another man
followed him, but I could see that he was already one of them. This
zombie took the steps with more success and caught up with his target on
the pavement. The group of slow zombies veered away and pushed open the
metal gate of the house and joined in. I didn't look and hated myself
for being relieved that the potential pursuers were now occupied.
Denny, Phillip and Dan had fought their way clear into the ground floor by the time I got inside.
It only took a few seconds to dispatch the last zombie, I watched as
Phillip smacked the bat into the corpse enthusiastically. He
straightened up afterwards and looked at his companions who stood
getting their breath back.
Then he turned around, and the way he
looked scared the shit out of me. He seemed to tower over both Dan and
Denny, the limited stark light of the hallway's bulb cast shadows over
his face that made the grin on his face look demonic. The clumps of gore
on his taught cheek bones showed up black adding to the macabre image.
This is what he wants, I thought as he strode towards me, it's like he
has been waiting for this one moment, so he could stop working in a
shitty little shop, stop taking all the bullshit he bitches on about
every day, stop sinking to the level of all the morons he deals with and
instead, go round killing people.
His grin widened, hefting the
baseball bat onto his shoulder. At the same time as realising how
psychotic he was it occurred to me that he had traveled through the
middle of Brighton, a city that was now full of undead to find me and he
loved me.
The dumbarse, probably insane person, standing in front of me was in love with me.
He sauntered past me and slammed the flimsy internal door shut.
“That isn't going to hold.” Phillip commented.
“We could always use some of the furniture from this flat.” Dan offered
walking through a door to my right. Denny followed.
“Genius!” Phillip exclaimed. “Does that mean the old bat copped it?”
“She's probably the person who opened the door in the first place.” Dan answered from within the flat.
“Heh, her fucking pigs showed up.” Phillip sneered.
Phillip started into the flat then his head reappeared around the frame.
“Hey, Gray, are you going to fucking help us?”
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