The Undead Day Twenty (14 page)

‘What is?’ Heather asks.

‘All these bites. He gets bitten more than anyone else…I swear he just shoves his body in their mouths when they attack him.’

‘Who is that other woman?’

‘Which one? Marcy?’

‘Yeah, she’s so beautiful,’ Heather says quietly, turning to look at Paula then blinking as though realising she just made eye contact with another human being and looking away quickly.

‘She is. She adores Howie too. Never seen someone more in love…until now,’ she adds with a glance at Paco. ‘She was infected but turned back…’

‘They said,’ Heather says, realising she is having a conversation with someone else after just having a shower with someone else. The world is weird.

‘She sort of kept her mind when she was…infected or turned or whatever it is. Like a super zombie or something. Could speak, think…she turned hundreds…maybe more…’

‘She killed them?’

‘I guess,’ Paula says, working on the next bite. ‘But she was infected. The infection did it…not her. She turned Reggie but he kept his mind too, although it was Marcy that controlled him…until it wore off or they healed…I don’t know but yes, there’s two people with a worse history than all the rest of us together and we love them as much as the others…so we can’t be that bad.’

‘How did…I mean…if Marcy did that…why didn’t they kill her?’

‘We’re all linked,’ Paula says, wondering how far she should go in telling Heather while knowing they need Heather and Paco to stay with them for a while. ‘The infection has a hive mind…that’s how it controls all the people it turns. Like a collective consciousness or something. We’ve got that.’

‘What?’ Heather asks sharply, turning to look at Paula.

‘We’ve got a hive mind,’ Paula says simply. ‘Not all the time…we can’t read each other’s thoughts or anything like that but…when Howie gets in a certain way we sort of…connect? It’s only happened a couple of times.’

‘Shit,’ Heather mutters.

‘And they’re scared of Howie.’

‘Who are?’

‘The zombie things…they’re scared of him. We’ve all seen it…they still attack but you can see it happen sometimes.’

‘Why?’

‘We don’t know. We don’t know anything. We don’t know what you are either or Paco…but we’ve got Reggie,’ she adds with a smile. ‘All done on your back. I’ll leave it with you…’

‘Paula? You in there?’ Marcy calls from outside.

‘Yep.’

‘Got clothes for Heather…Clarence has given a top and trousers for Paco and we found some underwear here, hopefully it’ll fit.’

‘Okay if Marcy comes in?’ Paula asks.

‘Er yeah, yeah I guess so,’ Heather says, looking back to see Marcy leaning through the door before coming in.

‘Oh you look much better. Did you get the cream?’

Heather lifts it up, looking at Marcy now knowing what Paula told her. She’s never seen someone so perfect in appearance. Like someone from a movie. Heather glances at Paco with a sudden stab of jealousy but his eyes remain fixed staring back at her, tracking her every move. She looks at Marcy quickly who smiles as though she didn’t see that look just happen. There’s no trace on the woman. No red eyes, nothing.

‘Hopefully they’ll fit,’ Marcy says, holding up the clothes. ‘Went for black stuff…that okay? It hides the dirt and black is always flattering…not that you need flattering,’ she adds with the expertise of someone highly skilled in the art of making casual conversation. ‘Need anything else? Oh, hair bands…’ she says, pulling a few from her wrist. ‘Er…well, shout if you need anything. We’re downstairs,’ she adds, placing a hand on Paula’s arm.

‘I’ll come down, see you in a minute?’ Paula asks, moving towards the door.

‘Yeah, minute…’

Seven

A sea of corpses from the house to the vehicles now brought down the driveway. An assault rifle rests across the crook of his arms. His feet planted. His eyes watching. A cigarette between his fingers on his left hand.

‘Marine,’ Clarence says, nodding as he stops at Blowers side.

‘Para,’ Blowers says, nodding back. ‘Do you say para or something else?’

‘Airborne sky gods? Maroon machine? World’s best regiment? Any of those will do.’

‘What was that song?’ Blowers asks, pretending to be thinking.

‘Oh here it is,’ Clarence says, chuckling in his deep voice.

‘Can’t remember how it goes now…oh I got it…para para in the sky living proof shit can fly…’ Blowers says, taking a big step away with a grin.

Clarence rolls his eyes, pulls a face and plants his feet to rest his assault rifle across the crook of his arms. ‘Marine marine in a boat…living proof shit can float…’

‘Buttfucker,’ Cookey says, strolling over to plant his feet and rest his assault rifle across the crook of his arms.

‘He just called you a buttfucker,’ Blowers whispers at Clarence, nodding at Cookey.

‘I didn’t,’ Cookey says, lighting his cigarette. ‘I called
you
a buttfucker…buttfucker…’

‘Who is?’ Blinky asks, planting her feet to rest her rifle across the crook of her elbows.

‘Blowers,’ Cookey says.

‘Fact,’ Blinky says.

‘What is?’ Nick asks, going through the same as he lights a smoke.

‘Blowers is a buttfucker,’ Cookey explains.

‘Ah,’ Nick says, exhaling his smoke. ‘Fact.’ He adds, staring hard at Maddox who walks over but doesn’t plant his feet or rest his rifle across the crook of his elbows.

‘So what’s happening now?’ Cookey asks after a few seconds of silence.

‘No idea,’ Nick says, looking at Clarence.

‘Same,’ the big man says, shrugging casually which is still a monumental movement of bones, muscles and sinew lifting to plummet back down.

‘Can’t believe she said spastic,’ Nick says, chuckling at the thought.

‘Fucking funny,’ Cookey says.

‘Can’t believe you sprayed your coffee on Nick,’ Blowers says.

‘Can’t believe it’s not butter,’ Cookey says.

‘Can’t believe you’re so ugly,’ Blowers says.

‘Can’t believe you put that penis in your pocket yesterday.’

‘Can’t believe you…’ Blowers pauses, thinking hard. ‘Nah I’m out.’

‘Already?’ Cookey asks, disappointed. ‘Blinky?’

‘Fist me.’

‘Okay, Nick? You got one?’

‘One what?’

‘One I can’t believe.’

‘I can’t believe you just asked me.’

‘Ah, good one…I can’t believe…’

‘So is that Paco Maguire?’ Blinky asks, cutting across Cookey.

‘You serious?’ Blowers asks.

‘Yeah. Is it then?’

‘Fuck me, Blinky.’

‘I don’t do cocks.’

‘Yes, it’s Paco Maguire.’

‘Oh. He’s famous.’

‘Yeah?’ Cookey asks.

‘He’s famous as fuck…’

Maddox hides the irritation at the mindless conversation and watches the front of the house closely.

Inside Roy’s van, Reginald shakes his head as the conversation outside rolls forever and always gently on. It’s comforting though, in a strange way. Knowing they are there. Knowing that nothing can get through them, even if all they talk about is bottoms, genitals and faeces.

New things have happened that impact on the never-ending thoughts in his mind. He opens his bag, finds his notepad and spreads it open on the desk to read over his last entry.

Minutes pass with his mind absorbed from the soothing background noise of the mindless banter outside. His pen scribbles. Notes and observations. Connections made. Strengths of arguments increasing as other weaken. Objective, subjective and conjecture. Fact, opinion and guesses. He frowns, pauses frequently then scribbles on with the pen scratching over the paper.

He stops writing, reads it back and clicks the pen.
Safety off.
He smiles again and even adds a little chuckle at his new joke that he really rather likes. The others have all got big heavy guns they can click and make noises with. He has a pen. It also clicks. He clicks it again, feeling the tool vibrate within his hand. He clicks it off then back on. His eyes narrow, his jaw sets. He clicks the pen on and nods manfully as though staring down the enemy that all quake in fear at his mighty penmanship before fleeing in all directions.

‘Right, listen up,’ Paula says outside. Clearly addressing everyone. ‘Heather doesn’t like people staring at her. So don’t stare at her. But be subtle. Not too subtle. Be subtle but not too subtle. Just don’t stare at her. But then don’t all look away at the same time either because that will be really obvious…’

He stops playing with his pen and puts his notepad back in his bag before going to the back door to idly look out and round at the others. His gaze rests on Maddox for a few seconds.

‘…so just be nice but normal, but not too normal or weirdly nice. Just don’t stare…I mean, not all of you stare but don’t start whistling at the same time or checking fingernails…’

Reginald looks round from his perch. Everyone else is here. Howie is here. An idea comes to mind. Will it work? Will they see any difference? Will Paco pick up on everyone else’s reaction and do the same. He’ll need to be isolated.

‘One or two can stare, more like casually looking but not staring…right, Blowers, you look over with Nick…er…Clarence, you glance but then glance away as though looking at the trees…’

‘Mr Howie?’

‘Yes, Reggie?’ Howie exclaims, glad of the distraction from Paula’s increasingly detailed instructions

‘Am I free to speak?’

‘Er…yes?’ Howie says carefully.

‘About Paco and Heather. Can they hear me?’

‘Not from this distance if you keep your voice down,’ Howie says.

‘How do we know Paco is not a Trojan Horse?’

‘A do what now?’ Howie asks.

‘A Trojan Horse? A spy.’

‘Oh…oh I see…I was thinking of condoms then for some reason.’

‘Ah yeah,’ Marcy says, clicking her fingers and nodding at Howie. ‘So was I.’

‘Yeah?’ Howie asks. ‘Makes me feel better.’

‘I was too,’ Paula says.

‘And me,’ Nick says. ‘What you tutting at?’ He asks Maddox.

‘Nothing,’ Maddox says, looking away.

‘Blowers was thinking of condoms too,’ Cookey says, ‘on men’s will…’

‘Good lord,’ Reginald says, huffing loudly. ‘Paco may be a spy.’

‘Oh…er…and that’s a bad thing?’ Howie asks as Nick glares at Maddox rolling his eyes with the frustration now evident in his expression.

‘Yes! Yes it is a bad thing.’

‘Roger that. Paco being a spy is a bad thing. Got it.’

‘We must be sure he is not a Trojan…stop sniggering. We must be sure he is not a spy.’

‘Righto, Paula?’

‘What?’

‘Find out if Paco is a spy.’

‘How?’

‘Ask Reggie.’

‘Reggie?’

‘Gosh you are all insufferable. Completely insufferable.’

‘Sorry, Reggie,’ Howie says.

‘Sorry, Reggie,’ Paula adds.

‘Sorry, Reggie,’ Blowers takes it up.

‘Sorry, Reggie,’ Cookey passes it along.

‘Stop it!’

‘Sorry, Reggie,’ Nick says.

‘I mean it. I really do mean it. Stop that…’

‘Sorry, Reggie,’ Blinky says.

‘Good gosh! Someone stop them. Clarence?’

‘Stop it,’ Clarence rumbles.

‘Thank you,’ Reginald snaps.

‘Welcome…sorry, Reggie.’

‘You are all damned idiots!’

‘They’re only playing,’ Marcy says, waving at her hand at him. ‘So go on then brainache?’

‘We may have a spy in our midst and you are making blasted jokes again.’

‘Want me to say sorry again?’ Howie asks.

‘No I do not. I do not wish that. I wish you to bring on that hive mind thing when he comes out so…’

‘Oh no,’ Marcy groans. Everyone groans apart from Maddox who looks round with fresh interest.

‘It’s the only way,’ Reginald says firmly.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ Marcy sighs.

‘Mr Howie, we have to know if Paco is within our hive mind.’

‘Hive mind?’ Maddox asks, looking at Howie.

‘Tell you later…I’m lost, Reggie. How does that prove anything? He doesn’t speak.’

‘We shall be able to tell from his reaction,’ Reginald says. ‘I will go inside the hallway with Dave and Mohammed to monitor him. You commence the hive mind and I will gauge his reaction.’

‘You sure?’ Howie asks reluctantly. ‘I can only do it by thinking bad things…’

‘We will be attacked imminently. We need to know if…’

‘Eh? We’re being attacked?’

‘Yes! That’s the whole point of knowing now…’

‘When? Which way? How…’

‘Whatever they have left in this area of course.’

‘Fucking hang on. We’re going to be attacked here?’

‘Yes, Mr Howie. Did I not just make that clear?’

‘Maybe you could have opened with that?’

‘Opened with what?’

‘Being attacked. Right…so you want me to…I can’t hear anything.’

‘Oh well I am sure they have changed their mind and gone somewhere else then based on your astute sense of hearing.’

‘Meredith isn’t reacting.’

‘Good Lord. They are going to attack. I would attack if I had resources here. They will attack. You will kill them then we can get on with our jobs…now, please wait until Paco and Heather are in…what now?’

‘I didn’t say anything,’ Howie says.

‘It looked like you were going to say something.’

‘Nope.’

‘Wait until they are in the hallway then commence the hive mind…’

‘What if I can’t?’

‘You must. You did it last night.’

‘Yeah but I’m all chilled out now. Had a coffee a few minutes ago and…’

‘I am sure Marcy can do something to prompt you. Now, wait until we are in the hallway. We will pass a message when we are ready. Dave? Mohammed?’

‘Yes, Reginald.’

‘Did you hear all of that?’

‘Yes, Reginald.’

‘Good good. Good stuff. Now, you must wait, Mr Howie. Do not commence it until we are ready.’

‘Fuck…do I have to?’

‘Yes. Yes you must. We must know. Paco is a big man and very strong and anything he hears or sees will be known by the other player if he is a spy.’

‘It does make sense,’ Paula says.

‘Does it?’ Howie asks. ‘None of this makes sense. Nothing makes sense anymore. We’re outside a big old house somewhere near the fort surrounded by bodies waiting for a world famous actor and his shy girlfriend to come down so we can see if we’re all fucking telepathically linked. Yeah that’s so normal that is.’

‘Stop ranting,’ Marcy says.

‘Keep ranting,’ Paula adds quickly.

‘Good point. Keep ranting,’ Marcy says. ‘Think bad things.’

‘Not yet,’ Paula says. ‘Reggie isn’t ready.’

‘Think nice things,’ Marcy says.

‘Not too nice though,’ Clarence adds helpfully.

‘Think medium things…like in the middle,’ Marcy says.

‘What the fuck?’ Howie says slowly. ‘What the actual fuck?’

‘You know, things in the middle…build up slowly…er…think of…think of…’

‘Stepping in dog shit,’ Cookey says.

‘Good one,’ Marcy says. ‘How annoying is that? Stepping in dog shit?’

‘Oh my god,’ Howie states. ‘This is fucked up.’

‘What’s up from dog shit?’ Marcy asks.

‘Ooh,’ Paula says thinking hard.

‘Getting dog shit on your fingers,’ Nick says.

‘Imagine,’ Marcy says, staring at Howie, ‘getting dog shit on your fingers.’

‘And you burnt your dinner,’ Cookey says.

‘And your dinner is burning,’ Marcy adds.

‘And you ran out of milk and can’t have a cuppa,’ Paula says.

‘Oh that’s so annoying,’ Marcy says. ‘Yeah, imagine you’ve got dog shit on your hands and your dinner is burning and you ran out of milk…’

‘It’s the fucking apocalypse,’ Howie mutters. ‘There is no milk…’

‘Late for work?’ Clarence asks.

‘Alarm didn’t go off,’ Nick says.

‘Slept in,’ Cookey says.

‘Shit the bed,’ Blinky says.

‘Slept in, shit the bed and the alarm didn’t go off and now you’re late for work,’ Marcy says.