As always if this is your first time here, don't start with this chapter, instead I recommend going to the index and starting there.
I know it must be shocking for some people to see two episodes out so close together but hey, I had a good week.
6. Melissa/Duck
Smoking pot made me feel better about everything, which is kind of funny seeing as it kind of, a little bit, maybe, made me feel depressed at the same time. Before it had just made me uptight and paranoid, but once you get past that and stop really caring whether you look like an idiot it just helps you ignore everything. It's a little like getting drunk but instead, you stay in the same place, you don't slur as much or make passes at people you don't actually like.
Me and my boyfriend, Paul, were having a week of staying inside. We smoked, listened to Spacehog and Prince Paul; ate pizza (microwaveable) and watched cartoons. The halls were all dead, which was fine by me as it meant I didn't get one of my crazy fucking 'friends' showing up at my place and going on about some stuff about how they had met some guy in a metal club who was really nice or something. To put it lightly they were starting to get on my nerves.
Paul was also starting to get on my nerves, when he got really stoned he got a little randy and that always put me off him. Worse, he was still hung up on his childhood career as an advert star. He was in a bunch of them where he played some kind of adorable cherub, apparently. He was the face that sold chocolate bars, cereals and a pair of trousers for short kids. He was anything but short now. When he got really wasted he would talk about it for hours like he was going to be famous for something other than some 10 second section that had him being licked by a dog. Freak.
I say that, but he could be fun and he did have nice weed.
It was on about our fourth day of doing nothing but watching Invader Zim DVDs, drinking really bad wine, eating snacks and smoking a lot of pot when someone decided to bang on our door. For a few seconds I thought that it might be my roommate back from her parents’ house. I freaked out and tried to clean the room. Paul just slouched on the bed and asked me what I was doing. The guy was such a lazy dick, I swear if he tipped over an ashtray, he'd just leave it there and wait for it to evaporate.
The banging continued for a few more seconds and then just stopped abruptly.
I froze and just looked at Paul. He shrugged and started lighting his spliff. I tried to rationalise, my roommate had a key, maybe she had lost it, and maybe it wasn't her at all.
Then a very familiar voice shouted through the door:
“Duck, it's me, George.”
I relaxed but then my mind started to worry about what he wanted. We were in two classes together, maybe he was here to tell me about some paper I'd missed or worse still, I'd forgotten about a presentation (I fucking hate presentations, getting up in front of people and talking to them – ugh).
“Duck, can you let us in?”
My first thoughts were ‘us’? Who was with George? Why did they want to talk to me? What had I done? Was it bad?
Paul got up and opened the door. George and this guy I'd never seen before burst into my room.
George paused for a second before:
“Dude, close the door, now” He then walked forward and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Ducky, we need to get the fuck out of here.”
I can't remember how I reacted exactly; I kind of, sort of, shriveled away from his touch. I don't like people touching me.
I twisted out of his grip and just sort of looked at him, I was still a little too stoned to really properly do anything. (Ugh)
The guy I didn't recognise closed the door.
“Duck?” George didn't move forward as he talked to me. “We need to get out of here”
I asked him why.
“This is going to sound crazy,” George looked from me, to Paul, and then to the guy he was with.
“Look, I'll explain later. My Uncle has an apartment on the sea front, it is high up, it has reinforced doors-
I cut him off with a 'What the fuck?'
He hesitated and looked at me right in the eyes, he had these light blue eyes, they looked like crystal.
“Have you not been watching the news?” He asked and then shook his head before I could answer.
“Of course you haven’t, you wouldn’t be here if you had.”
“Hey, I can talk for myself.” I snapped.
“I don't have time to explain.” George pleaded. “Right now, there are a few of them in the building already.”
Who? What? George, make sense.
“Please, come with me.” George looked at Paul. “Both of you. Oli has got us a car.”
That’s when the sound started.
It was like someone was drunkenly brushing up against the wall outside, not just brushing really.
They seemed to be leaning into the plaster, digging out chunks of paint and concrete as they went. As the sound of scrapping got louder I could hear someone grunting. It was like someone was trying to snort a line of coke and getting nothing then breathing out their disappointment. That was when I started getting really scared.
Both and George and this Oli guy froze as soon as the groan started, George looked at me and I could see that he was as desperate as me.
“What the fuck is that?” Paul whispered.
The scrapping and groaning stopped.
George silently raised his finger to his lips to indicate to not say anything.
The scrapping moved a little quicker now, straight towards our door.
I looked back at Paul, he looked like he was about to start hyper ventilating.
The nails then started scratching against the door from the outside.
George looked at Oli and motioned to him. They went to the handle then George looked back at both of us.
“The car is down in the car park, you can't miss it, it's the only one that’s green.” He whispered as he gripped the door handle. “The doors aren't locked. Get in and don't let anyone in except us.”
“What about you?” I whispered, almost afraid to say anything as the scratching got worse.
“Don't worry about me, just get to the car.”
He gripped the handle tightly and then looked at Oli and nodded.
Oli nodded back, I hadn't noticed before but Oli was now wearing a pair of knuckle dusters.
Then George yanked the door open.
A guy plunged through the door, his arms flailing out they managed to grab Oli. In response the little black guy wheeled him into the room, past us and onto my bed.
“Run!” George yelled.
I didn't need another shout and just started running as fast as I could, making each foot step pound down one after the other. Paul was right behind me. It was only about 30 seconds to the lifts but my lungs were burning already and my heart was pounding when I pressed the button to summon it. I could vaguely hear Paul murmur something, but over all that I could hear the sound of feet pounding against the metal plates on the steps up to our floor.
The lift doors started to open, I jumped in and lent against the back wall. Paul bundled in after me and pressed the button for the ground floor.
As the lift took forever to make up its mind up about closing. The pounding of a set of feet was getting closer.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” I felt like I was chanting as I looked at the doors that did not want to close. Paul leaned forward and jabbed at the ground floor button angrily.
The doors started to close.
The feet sounds were now on our floor.
The doors were almost completely closed.
A face appeared outside through the few inches between the two doors and I gaped. There was blood all down her shirt; her eyes were turned up into the back of her head.
Then she stuck one of her hands between the two doors.
And the doors stopped and jerked open again.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. That is all I could think.
She lunged screaming at Paul. He managed to push her off of him back into the hall. She stumbled only a little and then ran back at him, scratching and biting as she came. Paul looked so out of place in a fight, he managed to grab her hands as she got close and hold her off as she leaned into him. Her neck was craned forwards trying to get at him with her teeth. He dragged her out of the lift and back into the hall, I was left, stunned.
Then the lift doors started closing again.
At some point I had slipped down to the floor and just found myself watching Paul and the woman disappear behind the metal.
The lift slid slowly down.
I tried to figure out what had happened. We were being attacked by drunks, blind drunks, blind drunks that bit people. Or, more likely, zombies. Fucking hell, zombies, real, dead, zombies.
The metal box I was in juddered to a halt and I pulled myself to my feet and ran out of into the foyer of the building then out into the car park. There was only one green car and I ran to it, opened the back door and jumped in.
Within a few seconds the whole car was secured. The only sound I could hear was my own ragged breathing. I looked back at my block and as if on cue Paul appeared, hobbling quickly towards the vehicle.
I had these images of poor dopey Paul talking to this crazy zombie woman, poor dopey Paul who couldn't punch a woman even when she was attacking him. I popped the passenger seat door nearest him.
He bundled into the car. There was blood all over his hands. That is when I shrank away from him.
He looked at me from under his floppy blond brow as he tried to get his breath back, his eyes full of this hurt look that I found so painful to take in. I looked down from his face to his hands.
I looked up to see both George and Oli were outside, Oli was searching for his keys.
To avoid looking back at Paul I leaned over into the driver's seat and let them in.
George came in first, shunted over into the passenger side as Oli followed. Oli soon had the car in gear and driving out of the car park.
I looked back at Paul and his bloody hands.
He was still looking at me with that hurting/hurtful expression.
“Are you bitten?” I asked.
“You, you left me.” He said and then leaned between his legs and vomited.
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