The Undead Day Twenty (37 page)

‘What they laughing at?’ Cookey asks, pulling on his new trousers.

‘Probably you eating that lube,’ Nick says, fastening his belt then working to get the pistol holster in the right place.

Blowers turns to bend over. His frame clad only in boxers as he unknowingly presents his arse towards the perfume counter. A split second later the sound of three women laughing floats down.

‘You alright?’ Nick calls out.

‘Fine! Yep fine,’ someone shouts down, the voice somewhat strangled and choked from laughing.

Now is the time for Maddox to bridge that gap. He could make a comment, an observation or a simple passing remark on how nice it is to be clean and wearing new clothes. He could at least try and deep down he knows that first step will be rejected but in time he will be accepted. However, what he also notices is that he is now losing his identity even more than before. The clothes he wore were his own and he maintained a difference of appearance to the others. Now he is wearing the same as them. Black trousers and a black wicking top. He has uniformity which to him is a step into being what
they
are.

So he doesn’t offer to bridge that gap. Instead, he scowls and feels the isolation growing more profound until finally, they are all dressed and his last shred of pride feels lost and gone.

The lads head back down the aisle, leaving Mo to resume his serious work of sentry and guard to the three inside the store. Blowers, Cookey and Nick each offered to take over for a bit but he stated he was happy enough to stay.

‘We up?’ Clarence calls out, seeing the lads stroll back down.

‘Yep,’ Blowers says, giving a thumbs up.

‘Got lube,’ Cookey says, showing them the tube in his hands.

‘Got a longbow,’ Roy says, still eager to show them what it can do.

Clarence looks at Howie and the worry shows in the big man’s eyes. The energy is pouring off Howie. The disquiet of mind. The unsettled nerves that long to be running and fighting and doing anything instead of sitting still. Clarence knows Howie is doing this because everyone else needs the downtime to decompress and the day is already long. The afternoon has given way to evening and soon the twilight will come. They’ll get their kit and move off to find somewhere for the night. He rises from his chair, thinking to find a time later to broach the subject of what happened, or ask Paula or Marcy to do it tonight. Probably Marcy. She’ll be the best one when they take first watch. One thought leads to another and he smiles at his bag now full of horse treats ready for the Second Watch Biscuit Club.

‘We’re going up,’ Clarence calls out to the lads at the front. The five men walk up the aisle. One huge. One holding a longbow. One dark and brooding. One small and pushing his glasses up his nose and one other small man that shows no outward expression as he spots Mo standing sentry.

Mo spots Dave and almost comes to attention. Visibly straightening to stand taller at the sight of the five elders heading towards him. These men hold power. An aura of capability surrounds them. The lads are tough, Marcy and Paula are exceptional but these men are the core. Roy suits being with them. Reginald too. The five have a presence that seems to silence any noise save for the tread of their feet and the rustle of bags and kit. Nobody can kill Dave. Nobody can outthink Reginald. Nobody can match Clarence for strength. Nobody can fire a bow like Roy and nobody will ever come close to Mr Howie.

They nod and smile at Mo. A few gentle words spoken that lift him inches until Clarence pats him on the shoulder and drives him back down.

That aura goes with them into the store and the mood, that only a minute ago was jovial and child-like in humour, grows serious and meaningful.

‘You okay?’ Marcy asks, looking directly at Howie.

‘Fine,’ he says, ‘you?’

‘Yeah fine.’

‘Roy,’ Paula says, smiling at him then at Clarence then back at Roy and moving quickly to hide the slight fluster she suddenly feels inside.

‘I fired my longbow,’ Roy says, smiling happily.

‘Oh,’ Paula says. ‘Er, any good?’

‘Very good,’ Clarence booms. ‘Took a sign off at the fittings.’

‘That’s great,’ Paula says.

‘Perhaps I will go and check on Jess,’ Charlie says, as polite as ever in the astute sensing of a feeling of imposition at the dynamics changing so quickly.

‘You okay, Charlie?’ Howie asks as the girl goes past.

‘Yes, fine, thank you, Mr Howie.’

‘Charlie?’

‘Yes, Mr Howie.’

‘Maddox was wrong in what he said…’

‘I should not have broken that man’s finger,’ Charlie replies quickly, firmly and dipping her eyes in apology as she speaks.

‘Not now,’ Paula cuts in. ‘We’ll discuss it later but Charlie? Do not worry. You’re fine, okay?’

‘Thank you,’ she says, nodding respectfully and seemingly hesitating as though waiting to see if Mr Howie is happy for her to go.

‘Catch you in a minute,’ Howie says. ‘Right, we got new kit then? Is that lube?’

‘Yeah it was er…just a joke for the lads,’ Marcy says.

‘Howie, this is yours,’ Paula explains, ‘Clarence…yours is the huge pile…Roy, this is yours, Dave…yours is right there next to Reggie’s. We’ll leave you to get changed…Marce, can you grab that empty bag please love, we’ll empty that drinks cabinet while we’re here.’

The two walk off back to the gloom at the rear as the five start dropping kit to undress and clean. Reginald, being a sensitive soul, takes his to the other side of a shelving unit for a degree of privacy while the others disrobe where they are without shame or worry.

‘Tense,’ Marcy whispers, holding the bag open for Paula to load with bottled drinks.

‘Just a bit,’ Paula whispers back. She glances up over Marcy’s shoulder to the perfume section and the reflection of Clarence and Roy cleaning themselves with wipes. She pauses, growing still as Marcy clocks the way her eyes flick left and right. Marcy turns to look and spots the two men as Paula resumes loading the bag.

‘You okay?’ Marcy asks, glancing back at Paula.

‘Fine,’ Paula says.

Marcy stares at the reflection and finds Howie in the view but even with the intimacy of her relationship with him it somehow still feels wrong to be looking. ‘Strange days,’ she mumbles, turning back to look at Paula.

‘You sound like Howie,’ Paula remarks.

‘Hmmm,’ Marcy says. ‘So you fancy Clarence then?’

Paula freezes again. Her left hand in the cabinet. Her right in the bag held by Marcy. A look of panic steals across her face. An imploring look up at Marcy who flinches and edges closer.

‘Wow,’ Marcy whispers, lowering down to make extra sure no one can hear them. ‘I was only joking…’

‘Yeah, yeah, haha, funny,’ Paula tries to laugh it off but the words stumble out awkward and weird.

‘Oh my god, Paula…you fancy Clarence?’

‘I’m not thirteen, Marcy,’ Paula says stiffly.

‘Still a woman though,’ Marcy retorts. ‘Does he know?’

‘Know what?’

‘Paula,’ Marcy says in such a way it tells Paula she thinks she is talking shit.

‘No,’ Paula groans, receiving the
stop talking shit
message loud and clear.

‘Christ, Dave. You done already?’ Howie’s voice floats back to them.

‘Yes, Mr Howie,’ Dave’s dull tone comes a second later.

Paula huffs and turns to plonk her arse down on the front ledge of the drinks cabinet. A can of Coke Cola in her hand. The full sugar one too. She pops the cap, lets the bubbles rise and takes a long drink before offering the can to Marcy.

‘Share?’

‘Ta,’ Marcy says, taking the can as she plonks down next to Paula.

They share the can of coke, listening to the deep voice of Clarence and the others all making conversation as they change. Marcy goes to say something but Paula waves her hand
.

‘We’re done,’ Howie calls up.

‘Okay,’ Paula calls down. ‘We’ll be down in a minute…got a few more bits to get.’

‘Need a hand?’ Clarence asks making Marcy smile mischievously as Paula slaps her leg.

‘No, we’re fine, thanks, Clarence.’

‘
Mo’s still on the door
,’ Howie transmits as he walks out with the others.

‘
Yep, thanks
,’ Paula radios back.

‘So?’ Marcy asks into the silence that follows. ‘Wanna talk?’

Twenty-One

‘Charlie, you come inside, love,’

‘On way…are we here for a while? I’ll leave Jess out if we are…it’s too hot in the horsebox if we’re not moving.’

She never imagined they would be like this and to hear them talk is weird. Nice but weird. She glances at the radio in the central console then across to Paco who, in the last few minutes, has suddenly discovered his fingertips are the perfect size for shoving up his nose.

‘Stop it,’ she says, reaching over to pull his right hand down as his left hand comes up to continue the exploration. ‘Paco, stop it. You’ll make it bleed.’

Paco leaves his nose alone and smiles at Heather. ‘Ether.’

‘What?’ she asks, glancing ahead to the road then back at him.

‘Ether.’

‘Yes, what?’

‘Ether.’

‘Yep.’

She decided to drive round the town rather than going through it. She did consider driving through and
accidentally
bumping into them again, then maybe stopping for a bit and you know, just hang around and chat with Paula and stuff. Then she worried it would be obvious and weird so she navigated the Toyota off the slip road and into the country lanes that fed round the town towards the big hill on the far side. Now she drives steady with her left hand resting on the top of the steering wheel and her right hanging out the window to feel the air rushing by. She should close the windows to make the air-con work better but it’s nice to feel the hot air blasting over her arm.

‘Zade.’

‘You’ve had loads.’

‘Ether…’

‘What?’

‘Zade.’

‘No. You’ve had too many.’

‘Ether…zade…’

‘Paco I said no…actually, know what? You’re a grown adult so if you want Lucozade you can have Lucozade…’ she reaches back to rummage through the bag as he grins widely with an expression that makes her chuckle.

She hands the bottle to him. He takes it but finds her holding on. He looks at the bottle then at her as she lifts an eyebrow.

‘Zade…’

‘Yep.’

He tries to pull it gently from her hand but she holds on. He frowns, puzzled and trying so hard to understand what he is required to do. That expression brings forth a rush of guilt that she’s treating him like a child and he’s not a child. His behaviour is sometimes child-like but he is a man. A grown adult and a very dangerous one at that. As she sends the signal from her brain to her hand to release the bottle so he suddenly grins.

‘Ank-you,’ he blurts, gravelly and broken but clear enough to be understood.

It makes her feel worse. The tiny nuances of emotions that lift and plummet and form the day of a human being.

‘Welcome,’ she says, slowing the Toyota to a stop at the edge of the junction. Right is towards the town. Left is away from the town but the direction she wants is ahead to go up that big hill and find somewhere to rest for the night. A nice barn or stables in a large field and with a sweeping view of the town below. The heat makes her think there will be a storm soon, which in turn sends a creeping sense of dread crawling up her spine. Astraphobia has dominated her life since childhood. A debilitating fear of thunder and lightning that stems from the realisation of a complete loss of control. That the forces of nature can make such noise and throw barbs of pure bright energy at the ground terrifies her. Her mother was a heroin-addicted prostitute that died when Heather was young. The system failed thereafter and Heather was left to suffer the awful circuit of foster homes where the foster carers were not allowed to hug or show physical affection, either that or they showed too much physical affection and in the wrong way. Those formative years shaped her life. She was intelligent but could never settle or make a decision on what she wanted from life. Only that whatever she chose had to be away from other people. All of those things manifested into a fear of a loss of control, and a storm is the biggest reminder of the insignificance of a mere mortal.

Now, for the first time in her adult life, she is making connections to people. Paco is a person, albeit an extremely strange one who is currently trying to pick his nose, drink Lucozade and stare at Heather all at the same time.

She heads left with an instinct telling her the road will lead up the hill. As she drives, and as Paco guzzles, picks, delves, fidgets and stares she thinks of the people down in the town and resumes the train of thought that Howie and the others are not what she expected.

She’d sort of tracked them for the last couple of days, and having seen what they leave behind, she assumed they would be hardened, cold, bloodthirsty bastards who didn’t give a shit about anything other than killing the infected. As it turns out, only one of those presumptions has proven to be correct, that they are hardened. Yes, she admits to herself, there are degrees within them of being bloodthirsty cold bastards but through necessity rather than design. In fact, they appear to be incredibly caring and loyal, and while at the same time as being highly capable, they are ridiculously incompetent. Mind you, it has only been what, twenty days since it began?

‘That’s fair enough then,’ she tells Paco then tuts as he quickly pulls his finger from his nose. She bursts out laughing at the sudden memory of the old woman shoving the coffee cup into him that was so wrong but so funny at the same time.

Paco goes still at her laughing but the sound is nice and even though he doesn’t know what made her laugh he grins and laughs too. Broken and guttural but clearly a chuckle.

‘
Blinky, you come up and get changed,’

‘Yes, Miss Paula, Sir. One way now, Sir.’

Heather’s eyes flick to the radio with a puzzled expression at Blinky calling Paula sir. They are right there, in that town doing whatever it is they do. Again she gets that prickling feeling of weirdness at the connection and inclusion. She can hear them talking and they sound so normal and…well,
informal
she guesses is the right word.

‘Anyway,’ she tells Paco who looks over with deep interest. ‘We’ve got our job to do haven’t we?’

Paco doesn’t say if he considers the question to be direct or rhetorical but holds his Lucozade bottle upside down to show Heather it is now empty.

‘We’ll chillax tonight then…oh my god…did I just say chillax? I said chillax. I hate myself right now…’

‘Ether.’

‘Yes, I know. I said chillax. I bet that’s something you would say.
Hey there, I’m Paco Maguire and I’ve shagged a thousand women and I like to chillax…’
she mimics a deep American voice at him as he waggles the bottle upside down.

‘Dirty bugger,’ she tuts at him. ‘Anyway, so…we’ll find somewhere tonight then make a start in the morning. Yes? Agreed? Paco? Do you agree? Say yes I agree…Paco? Say yes…’

‘Ess.’

‘Agreed then…’

‘Zade.’

‘Eh? Already! No more, Paco. Seriously…so what do we do anyway? Like just knock on doors and tell people they’re immune?
Oh hi, we’re from the fort and this is the famous actor Paco Maguire that was bitten by a dog for being a zombie but he’s totally fine now…so yeah, you’re immune. Please go directly to the fort and do not tell anyone….especially the zombies…
what do you think? Do we say that?’

‘Zade.’

‘No more, Paco. I suppose that’s all we can do really, isn’t it? Just find them and tell them what they are. I mean, what else
can
we do? Oh, oh yeah, I guess we could actually take them to the fort…you know…to make sure they get there safely. Hmm, I think that’s what Howie meant actually. What do you think?’

‘Ess.’

‘Yeah? You think so too? I think so too. Okay, we’ll do that. So we find them
and
offer to escort them. Do we do one at a time or several all at once? I think there’s a couple near here so we could do both…’

She drives and chats as the vehicle starts a gentle incline that grows steadily steeper as the road weaves up the side of the hill. High hedgerows on both sides block their view from anything but the immediate area.

Pure coincidence means they miss the infected pouring over the land towards the town they drive away from. They don’t see the lines rushing down the hill and they drive through the gap between two hordes crossing the road from one footpath to the other with no knowledge of any such thing. The engine blots any sound of running feet. The restricted view blots any view of the forms running. Instead, they climb steadily as Heather chats on feeling an ever so strange sense of being just slightly at ease with the world. Like things are right and not wrong for once.

‘Blowers, the others can come up.’

‘Yep, cheers, Paula.’

Heather looks down at the radio once again musing on how normal they sound and idly wondering what they are doing right now. By looking at the radio she misses the glimpse of the infected man disappearing into the field as she navigates a bend in the road. Paco continues shaking his bottle and also misses the infected man.

On they drive without any knowledge of what they drive through. It’s hot. The windows are open. They have things to do and a destination to aim for. They have guns and food and drinks. That air of complacency that infests the team in the town and makes them separate and relax their awareness extends to Heather now. They’ve had a battle today already. The team have had two in fact. The first in rescuing Paco and Heather and the second on returning to the fort. Those things, coupled with the heat, reduce the expectation of a fight.

The road winds on up the hill, snaking between the high thick hedges. At times she cranes to see through to search for the top of the hill but those times are fleeting and uncommitted in serious intent.

Paco asks for
zade.
She gives him water. He stares at the water and asks for
zade
and so they focus on the issue surrounding Paco having too much sugar and glucose, which serves to distract from the invasion underway.

They reach the crest of the hill. The pinnacle. The top. The summit. A plateau of land formed millions of years ago by the shifting of plates deep within the earth that made the peaks and dips. On this peak rests fields, meadows and glades of trees complete with stables, barns and all manner of gloriously rural outbuildings that promise an evening of quiet rustic shelter. They drive slowly so Heather can enjoy the decision making process. She reaches a five bar gate leading into a field that slopes down a little with a promise of a commanding view of the town below. A block of wooden framed outbuildings to one side. It looks good. She jumps out to open the gate as Paco jumps down to follow her opening the gate. She gets back in to drive through and waits for Paco to get back in so she can drive through.

She deliberates for a few seconds on whether to close the gate behind them or not and after weighing the options she concedes it is better to have an open escape route so leaves the gate open.

She looks ahead to the buildings and drives the Toyota bouncing over the pitted grass. A hose on the side is a good sign as it means they can have a decent wash and get changed. She sighs as she stops the vehicle and stares at the idyllic setting and that promise of a beautiful evening stretching out in front of them. Hopefully there will be bales of straw or hay they can split to make soft beds to rest on. Old blankets and a small fire to cast a flickering glow.

With the engine switched off, she clambers out and waits for Paco while remembering what Blowers said about taking her rifle with her. Does she need it here? They’ve got pistols and she’s got Paco. She goes to walk on then stops, tuts and goes back to the vehicle to pull the heavy rifle out that she checks the way she was taught to do.

‘Perfect,’ she says a few minutes later after breaking the lock on the barn door to see the best inside-of-a-barn she has yet to see. A concrete floor. Bales of straw. Old blankets stacked up. A gas stove too. Matches and even a pan for boiling water. She stretches and sighs, suddenly feeling very tired. She didn’t sleep last night but spent the previous day and night running and fighting. She should be exhausted and ready to drop. ‘Looks nice eh?’ she says to Paco.

‘Ess,’ Paco doesn’t actually know what he is saying yes to, but he does know that giving a verbal response seems to make Heather happy.

‘Can we see the town from here?’ she asks him.

He doesn’t know if they can see the town from here but follows as she walks on across the field that starts sloping down to that promised view of the land below. It takes a few minutes to get far enough into the field to allow the lay of the land to drop away enough and with the sun starting to set so she has to blink and squint and use her hand to shield her eyes.

‘
Mo’s still on the door
.’

‘
Yep, thanks
.’

The transmission startles her. The unexpected hearing of voices from the radio now on her belt. She recognises Howie’s and Paula’s voices and again wonders what they are doing as her eyes adjust to the glare and she begins to make out the details of the town below.

Time stops. Her blood runs cold as her heart thunders from normal to frantic in the blink of an eye. Paco stiffens, growing in stature as his hands ball into fists at the sight of thousands of figures running into the town from all sides. So many. So so many. She blinks and stares harder, seeing thick dense hordes already in the town. Every street seems to be full. Every road is choked with them. She scans while her hands tremble and her legs suddenly grow rubbery and weak.