by Murray, Lee
“Bump-ity, bump-ity,” Ava said.
Opposite the crash site, I parked the computer chair to dash over the road. Darren grabbed my arm. “Seb,” he said. “Don’t go over there. Don’t you know anything? A crash like that? The fuel lines are bound to be severed. The whole thing could explode at any second.”
I looked across the road at the car sandwich. “I have to,” I said. “Whoever it is, we have to help them.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Darren said.
We looked at the crashed cars. There was no movement. No sound. Didn’t explosions always happen within seconds of impact? I thought of the video game—Bastion Axestone strolling away while the car went up in smoke behind him. It’d taken us a few minutes to get here. Surely, if the cars were going to explode, they would’ve done it by now?
“I’m going in,” I said. “Look after these two.” Not waiting for Darren’s reply, I sprinted across the road.
“Seb,” Grandma called after me. “Be careful.”
“Careful,” echoed Ava.
I tiptoed through the chunks of glass, keeping an eye out for smoke. The car in the middle was crushed like a coke can. I peered through the space where the back window used to be. The seat was squished and littered with glass, but I couldn’t see any passengers.
Turning to the hatchback, I threw open the door. Air bags oozed out of the gap. The driver was a man about Dad’s age, his face as white as the foam on Ava’s fluffies.
“You okay?” I said.
Dazed, he nodded.
He was conscious, at least. “Let’s get you out of there,” I said. But the shock of the crash must have affected him because he made no move to get out of the car. It was as if he’d forgotten what to do.
Suddenly, I thought I smelled petrol. It occurred to me that I might’ve imagined it. A subliminal thingy because Darren had warned me the car might explode. But what if it wasn’t? What if there really was a fuel leak? I had to get the driver out.
I stooped and, whipping a piece of stray metal off the driveway, I plunged it into the airbag, freeing him from the billowing cushion. I pushed the floppy fabric out of the way and unclipped his safety belt, taking his arm to pull him out.
He shook me off. “Wait!” he said. “I have to get…” He leaned sideways, plunging underneath the passenger airbag, searching the foot-well on the far side of the car. “Where are you?” he said, his voice urgent.
Who was he looking for? A baby? A pet? Without a seatbelt they would’ve been hurled forward, possibly hitting the windscreen in the crash. Had the airbag saved them from injury? But the hood of the car was totally mangled, crammed against the vehicle in front.
“Quickly!” I said, fighting the urge to run back across the road.
The man moved his arms, feeling for something.
I held my breath. Come on, come on…
“There you are!” he said finally, relief in his voice. I was pretty relieved myself.
Beaming, he sat up.
My heart sank. It was his phone. He unplugged it from the charging station.
“How am I supposed to charge it now?” he said, already tapping at the tiny screen. He clambered out of the car. Dumbfounded, I stepped back to let him pass. The man staggered away.
I’d braved an explosion just so he could save his phone? And now he was going to leave? I ran after him, plucking at his jacket. He didn’t stop, so I ran around him. Facing him, I raised my hand. “Hey, who are you? What’s going on? You can’t just walk off as if nothing’s happened. You’ve been in an accident!”
The man stared at me blankly. “An accident?” he said.
I didn’t get a chance to reply. The car exploded.
CHAPTER 8
The force of the blast threw me across the next driveway. I landed on my back on the grass with my breath whooshed out of me. It was as if an Olympic power lifter had dropped a loaded barbell on my chest. I lay there, sucking in air and looking at the sky, surprised at how normal and sky-like it was.
Across the road, Grandma and Darren were screaming, “Seb!” Ava was shouting, “Hot! Hot!” Even Cody was whimpering.
Rolling over, I pushed myself to my knees and checked my body for stray flesh wounds. “I’m okay. I’m fine,” I said, giving them all a reassuring wave, but already Darren was stepping into the road, pulling Cody with him.
A bit shaky, I stood up. The red hatchback had been obliterated. Fire licked though its blackened carcass, dark smoke spooling into the air. I sucked in my breath. I’d been that close to dying!
Beside me, the driver of the hatchback was getting to his feet too. He had a nick below his ear. A random bit of car must have hit him in the blast. Blood dribbled down his neck and inside the collar of his shirt. He was pale. Trembling.
“Are you okay?” I said, my own knees wobbling.
“My phone! I can’t find my phone.” Stricken, he cast his eyes around frantically for the mobile.
I felt a stab of anger. Who cared about his stupid phone? Moments ago, metres from where we were standing now, two cars had just gone up in flames. Somebody might have been seriously hurt. Incinerated.
Me, for example.
“Please, help me find it,” the man pleaded.
“It’s over there,” I said, pointing to the gutter. The man ran over and snatched at the phone, lifting it out of the muck as if it was the magic chalice from a fantasy movie. He checked the screen, his face relaxing when he saw it was intact. Thumbs sliding over the display, he gave a sigh. Straight away, it was as if I wasn’t even there.
Darren joined me. He grabbed me by the arm. “Seb? You okay?” he said, looking me over. I think he was really worried.
“Yeah.” I tilted my head at the driver of the hatchback. “I was wrong. The driver can’t help us.”
“Another zombie?”
I nodded. “Completely obsessed. He can’t help himself. It’s pathetic.”
We watched as the man lurched away, heading down Hulme Street, obsessed with his phone.
“They’re all infected, aren’t they?” Darren said gloomily.
I had a sudden thought. Maybe not.
“Come on!”
Sprinting forward, I caught up with the driver. Before he had a chance to react, I yanked the phone out of his hands.
“Hey! Give that back,” he protested. He lunged at me, his face dripping blood.
I ducked, wheeling to stay out of his clutches, the phone huddled against my chest. “Darren, let the dog go!” I shouted, evading another lunge from the zombie.
Darren didn’t have to be told twice. He dropped the leash and Cody bounded over.
“Cody, intruder,” I commanded, pointing my finger at the man, who was still swiping at me, trying to snatch back his precious phone.
Immediately, Cody pulled his lips back, baring his teeth. He growled low in the back of his throat. It was Cody’s only trick. He’d never actually bitten anyone—he was more of a big baby than a bully—but his vicious guard dog impression was scary enough to make the guy back off.
“Okay, okay. Call your dog off, kid. All I want is my property,” the man said. He took a step backwards, his hands outstretched to ward off the dog. Cody growled again.
Cody had the situation under control, so I turned my attention to the mobile.
“Seb, I don’t think you should touch it,” Darren warned. “My mum, your parents, Jason—they’re all using a device. If you use that phone, you could become a zombie too.”
“But there’s been an explosion. An emergency. If there are any adults left—any not affected by the subliminal quotient—where do you think they’ll be?”
Darren shrugged. “The FBI?”
For a smart guy, sometimes Darren can be pretty dense. Shaking my head, I punched in the number for Emergency Services and raised the ph
one to my ear. The dial tone bleeped as I waited for an operator to ask what service I required: police, fire or ambulance.
“My phone. Come on, give it back,” whined the driver of the burned out hatchback. Cody pulled back his lips and rumbled in response.
I waited.
No one answered.
Sighing, I cancelled the call and handed the driver back his phone.
CHAPTER 9
We trudged home. Grandma, Cody and Ava went inside, but Darren and I lingered on the deck.
Plonking himself down on the orange computer chair, Darren swivelled left and right, the castors bumping on the deck. “I should get home, too,” he said. “I need to check on Mum—make her eat something.”
I nodded, expecting him to head off, but Darren didn’t stand up, just kept on twirling. I could tell he wasn’t keen to leave, but what choice was there? Until this zombie-thing was sorted, it was up to us to look after everyone.
“Thanks for helping me with Grandma,” I said.
“No worries.”
“If I get a chance, I’ll do some research on the Zombie Apocalypse game tonight—see if I can reverse its effects.”
Darren stopped his spinning and stood up. “Don’t do it, Seb. Please.”
I kicked at the edge of the deck with the front of my trainer. “I have to, Darren. Talia thinks this is all my fault.”
“It’s too risky,” he said, shaking his head. “What if you turn into a zombie too?”
Grinning, I pretended to be a zombie, extending my arms and shuffling towards him, dragging one foot behind me. “Feed me, feed me,” I slurred.
Darren shoved me away. “Cut it out, Seb. I’m serious.”
I dropped my arms. “What? I’ll be fine. Nothing happened when I used that guy’s phone.”
“That’s different. You only used it for a second, and to make a phone call. You weren’t connected to the net.” He gazed over the rooftops at the setting sun.
“Well, there has to be something we can do.”
Stepping off the deck, Darren took his bike helmet off his handlebars, stuffed it on his head, and clicked it under his chin. “We could sleep on it. It’s what my mum always says. Things might be better in the morning.”
I walked with him as he wheeled his bike down to the road. “Yeah, maybe,” I said. It was a desperate hope. Flicking my chin upwards, I said, “See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
I waited until he turned into Snodgrass Avenue before I lifted the garage door. The roller rumbled and creaked. Jason didn’t turn, although he had to have heard it. Like a gargoyle, he was hunched over his laptop. His shoulders must ache something terrible. I lowered the roller door—it grumbled the last few centimetres—and made my way to the back of the garage.
Lifting the headphones away from Jason’s left ear, I spoke into the gap. “Jase.”
“Hmm?”
I slipped the headphones down around his neck. “Time to come in, man. It’s getting late,” I said.
He shrugged me off, promptly putting the headphones back on again. “For crying out loud, Seb. I wish you’d get off my back. I wish you’d all get off my back,” he snarled. “Can’t you see I’m working here? I said I’d come in, and I will. Just leave me alone!” He shook his head angrily and went back to his tapping.
Yes, but Jase, you said you’d come in three hours ago.
I realised that tactic wasn’t going to work. I couldn’t leave him in the garage. He’d already been here one night. But I couldn’t force him to come inside either. In a play-fight, Jase could get me in a headlock and plastered to the floor faster than a champion speed-eater scoffs a hotdog. I’d have to coax him somehow.
I watched him for a moment, sitting there at the back of the garage amongst Dad’s old golf clubs, his fishing rod, and a shelf of half-used paint cans. Mesmerised, Jason tapped at his laptop. He was completely hooked. Hooked. That was it! I would lure him inside using the laptop as bait.
I unplugged the computer at the wall. Immediately, its battery kicked in.
Now for the headphones.
I pulled the headphone cable from its socket and braced myself for my brother’s reaction.
“Hey!” Jason hollered. “Cut that out. I was using those.”
“It’s okay, Jase. It’s only for a minute. That’s what I came to tell you. Mum says you can work in the kitchen tonight,” I fibbed.
“She did?” Jason looked puzzled.
“Uh-huh. She’s even cleared a space for you at the table.” I picked up the laptop. “We should probably go in—you know, take advantage of the offer—before she changes her mind.”
With the laptop open and glowing like a fairground, I walked backwards towards the garage’s side door. Not certain my plan would work, I walked slowly, keeping the laptop enticingly within arm’s reach, as if teasing a kitten with a piece of string.
Jason stood up and pushed back his chair. Sluggish from two days spent bent over his computer, he lurched forward, his arms outstretched to keep his balance. It was working. I almost whooped with joy.
Jason shuffled closer.
I retreated.
He ambled forward.
I took a pace backwards.
It was as awkward as the ballroom dance lessons Mr Dunn had us doing for rainy-day PE, but step-by-step, we edged towards the door. I slowed to switch off the garage light with my elbow. Then, barely daring to check my feet, I stepped down the two stairs to the path.
Jason kept coming, his eyes mesmerised by the laptop. But he wasn’t watching where he was going—
“Watch out for the step!” I shrieked.
Too late. Jason tumbled out of the garage and down the stairs. He thrust his hands forward to brace his fall, his wrist turning inward as it struck the path. I listened for the crack of bone, but if there was one, it was drowned out by Jason’s grunt.
I put the laptop down on the path and rushed over.
“Are you okay?” Slipping my arm inside his, I helped him to his feet.
“Is it broken?” he said, reaching out his hand. He didn’t mean his wrist. Like the driver of the hatchback, he only cared about his laptop. He was nothing like the Jason I knew. It was like his brain had been invaded by aliens or something. It was tragic.
“Mind the hands,” he used to tell us. “These hands are my ticket to fame and fortune. Just you wait and see,” and he would drop to his knees, jamming an air guitar and lip-synching the closing bars of some imaginary stadium anthem to make his point. The real Jason was prissy about injuring his hands. Even used it as an excuse to get out of washing the saucepans once. And to dodge the yard work more than once. But not zombie Jason. His wrist sprained, maybe broken, and his palm grazed and seeping blood, all this Jason cared about was his cyber-fix.
“The laptop’s fine,” I replied, stooping to pick it up.
Jason grasped at the air, trying to grab the device. I walked backwards again. Towing him along by a cyber-thread, I led my zombie brother up to the house.
CHAPTER 10
Warm yellow light greeted me when I opened the door. Grandma was cooking dinner, Ava was playing with her puzzle on the floor, and Cody was pushing an empty juice box with his nose. Everything looked almost ordinary.
But Dad was gone.
“Where’s Dad?” I asked, setting the laptop up at Jason’s usual place at the table.
At the bench chopping vegetables, Grandma turned. “I think he might’ve just popped to the loo,” she said.
My heart doing loop-de-loops, I plugged in the laptop, adjusted the screen and helped Jason to sit down. Dad had left the table. Maybe he’d snapped out of the fog he’d been in earlier. Logged off? Gone up to get dressed? I hardly dared to hope.
I was about to go looking for him when Grandma crossed the room and put her hand on my
back. “I’m pleased you came to fetch me, Seb,” she said softly. “It was the right thing to do. This virus is nastier than I thought. Your father barely even noticed I was here.”
My shoulders sagged. So there hadn’t been a miracle after all. Dad wasn’t cured. Wherever he was, he was still behaving like a zombie. I felt like I’d dropped a double scoop ice cream on the footpath.
Jason groaned and clutched his head in his hands. This time, I wasn’t fooled. I checked his laptop. Ha, I was right—the laptop had decided to re-start and he couldn’t bear the wait. He could’ve been one of those Pavlova dogs Darren had told me about. The ones in that famous experiment where the scientist made them wait for their food. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Jason started drooling. He was already whining and twitching.
Grandma’s face though, crumpled in concern. “Not you too, darling?” she crooned as if Jason were a baby. She wiped her wet fingers on a tea towel, and put the back of her hand on Jason’s forehead, checking his temperature. “You’re not too hot, at least.”
Jason ignored her. His computer had rebooted. He put his headphones on, punched in his password and went back to his tapping.
Grandma shook her head wistfully. “Such a nasty bug. I suspect they all have dreadful headaches.” She nodded towards Jason’s headphones. “I checked on your mother a moment ago—took her up a cup of tea and an aspirin. I’ve never seen Grace looking quite so grey. I tried to get her to come away from her work, but you know your mother. So dedicated to her job.”
Ava patted Grandma on the arm. I hadn’t seen her toddle over. “Jason’s gotta owie,” she said.
I’d completely forgotten about his tumble outside, but it was all Ava could see. With her head at table height, she had a slug’s-eye view of Jason’s palms hovering over his keyboard. That, and up his nose.
“Yeah, he…um…had a bit of a dizzy spell on the way in and tripped on the path,” I explained to Grandma.
“We are in the wars today, aren’t we?” said Grandma, turning one of Jason’s hands over for a closer look.
Jason snatched his hand away. “Ouch!”
