by Oliver Smith
They both laughed enjoying each other’s company and grateful for something light-hearted to talk about.
She continued, “Seriously though, Danny. I’m worried about him. All of this ‘clearing the streets’ must be taking its toll on him. You read about PTSD and things like that. Just look at the woman outside yesterday, she’d cracked mentally, we can’t be letting Danny get into that state.
“We should call on him this morning and make him come out with us to search for Dawn. It’ll give him something to focus on and distract him from killing dead folk.”
The words revolved around Jack’s head. He knew what Danny was doing but hadn’t really stopped to consider the effects to Danny’s mental wellbeing, this combined with the fact that Dawn had still not come home was troubling.
Jack got up, he was naked again, Lucy didn’t look away however, she followed him with her eyes as he rummaged in the wardrobe for something to wear. He looked round and caught her looking, she smiled and looked away. He stopped himself from making a comment and quickly dressed and turned to Lucy and said, “No time like the present, Danny is always up early anyway.”
Lucy jumped out of bed; her t-shirt lifted as she scarpered out of the room giving Jack a glimpse of her wonderful behind. His loins stirred, and he cursed himself that he might have missed an opportunity to be close to her again.
Lucy was quick getting dressed and joined Jack on the landing. She gave his hand a little squeeze and grinned at him. His heart melted a little more. She motioned for him to follow her and they headed downstairs, out the back and under the fence panel to Danny’s backdoor.
Rapping on the door didn’t produce any effects from inside. Lucy tried the door handle, it was open. She pushed the door open ajar and called, “Ooooo oooo, helllloooo.”
She turned to Jack and grimaced at herself and said, “Too chirpy, maybe you should go in and wake him. It’s only 6:30 so he can’t be out already.”
He hesitated before stepping through the doorway, Lucy behind him almost clinging to his back. There were no signs of life in the kitchen and living room. The layout of the house was similar to Jack’s, but most of the interior walls had been knocked through to create an open plan living space. It was immaculate. There were no pots and pans in the sink, no dust, it was an OCD paradise. Jack called out to Danny, but there was no answer again.
“Just go and wake him. I can’t do it; he might get the wrong idea.” Lucy said.
“How do you know I might not give him the wrong idea?” Jack said smiling.
Quick as a flash, Lucy laughingly said, “You’re not masculine enough.”
Jack feigned a hurt look and went upstairs. Lucy waited downstairs in the lounge.
On approaching the master bedroom, the same room as in Jack’s house, he saw a note taped to the door, it read:
Jack & Lucy
Read this. Do not enter.
Jack called down to Lucy and she raced up the stairs, hearing the urgency in his voice. She approached and he ripped the note off the door and handed it to her. He then went to try the door handle, but she held his arm and showed him the note.
Read this. Do not enter.
Lucy handed the note back to Jack, he opened it and read out loud:
Dear Jack and Lucy,
I don’t know either of you very well, but I thought you deserved an explanation.
After seeing you yesterday and disposing of the dead you encountered I set off determined to find Dawn. I made my way to the hospital, but it was impossible to get in.
I then went along the 3 routes that she could have taken to get home. Eventually I found her. I saw her car and there she was. She was dead. Mercifully, she had died in the car and not become one of those soulless creatures. She’d crashed head on to a van and looked like she hadn’t suffered.
Anyway, I’ve decided I’m going to join her in the next world. I’m nothing without her and cannot continue to live like this.
Please do not come into the room.
Let me rest in peace for eternity with Dawn.
Remember me as a good person and one who loved God and his fellow man.
I bid you goodnight. Farewell.
Danny.
Silence filled the air. Jack looked up to Lucy who was on the verge of tears. He held her and they both sobbed quietly as Danny lay on his bed, stone cold and dead on the other side of the door. He’d arrived home late the previous evening, had taken a bottle of whiskey and all of the painkillers he could find upstairs with him. He wrote a few notes, discarded them and settled on the one that Jack and Lucy had found taped to the door. Danny had drifted off to sleep hoping to see Dawn once again.
-
Lucy and Jack didn’t speak much for the rest of the morning, they had returned to Jack’s house and sat around studying print outs of instructions again. Lucy was deflated and low, but Jack was finding it difficult to think of anything to lift her or his own spirits, so they sat in silence.
Around lunchtime, Lucy lifted her head that she’d been resting on the arm of the couch and said, “We need to bury Danny. He deserves that after what he did for us yesterday and for saving your life.”
Thinking of the physical logistics of digging a hole and moving Danny’s heavy frame to the garden were Jack’s first thoughts. Angry with his own selfish reaction he wondered how long it would be for Lucy to realise that he wasn’t that good a man. He responded, “You’re right. We should do it sooner rather than later though.”
Sensing the need to be chivalrous after his self-regarding thoughts, he continued, “After lunch I’ll go in there and cover him up in a sheet, you don’t need to see him like that. I’m probably going to need your help to carry his body, but before we do that, we’re going to need to dig a hole.
I’ll sort Danny out and then we can dig a hole. I’ve got some old wood from when I had my staircase done so we can mark his grave.”
Lucy walked over to Jack and kissed him tenderly.
Chapter 18 - Next Door
Jack put off seeing to Danny’s body straight away, he couldn’t face him yet so decided to concentrate on digging the hole. Lucy was quick to help and they both dug in silence as they worked tirelessly on a task neither of them would have been able to comprehend doing just a week ago.
The day had turned out to be warm with the sun breaking through the sparse clouds. The soil was still wet and heavy from the rain and the task was arduous. They dug on in silence, the laughter and flirtation between them had vanished as they both wallowed in the harsh realities of the world they found themselves in.
The hole took a couple of hours to dig and they were both physically exhausted. Jack got a bucket of water, which he’d filled in the rain, a sponge and some shower gel. He took hold of Lucy’s hands and began to wash the mud off them. He couldn’t seem to lift her spirits, but she let him wash the mud away with a distant look on her face.
They rested for half an hour in the warm spring day. Birds flew overhead and could be heard chirping, unconcerned with humanity’s struggles. Jack decided it was time to face up to the task he’d been avoiding and make Danny presentable so that Lucy could help move the body without seeing his corpse in the flesh. It was stupid really, Lucy had driven through thousands of corpses on her escape out of Manchester, but Jack felt as though this was different and was more personal to her recent history. He ushered Lucy inside, made her a drink and told her to rest while he went next door.
Gingerly making his way upstairs in Danny’s house, Jack paused outside the door and counted down from five. He had used this technique since he was a little boy, he remembered taking a bath before school and always counting down from five to get up out of the hot water and into the cold. This time the countdown was far more serious.
Opening the door slowly, Danny’s image started to appear, he was fully clothed including boots lying on top of the covers. The duvet had been cast aside to the corner of the room. It appeared as though Danny had considered everything and positione
d himself in the middle of the bed ready to be wrapped in the sheets should someone take the time to bury him. Jack remembered his previous perception of Danny and the irritation that he used to feel when faced with Danny’s niceness. What a fool he had been, Danny was too nice for Jack that was clear.
Jack walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at Danny. He looked peaceful, he could have been asleep were it not for his grey pallid complexion. Sighing loudly, Jack said, “Danny mate. You could have survived; you could have come with us. I understand though. I hope there is an afterlife and I hope you found Dawn and you’re both happy. Thank you Danny.”
He reached for the corner of the bed and pulled the sheet out from under the mattress, he did the same with the other corners. He folded the top and bottom of the sheet over Danny’s head and feet and then stood on the left side of the bed and folded the sheets over the lifeless form. He tucked the sheets under the body and rolled Danny over twice to wrap the sheets around him. Jack had zoned out through the entire process and let his mind drift to avoid the stark reality.
Looking down once again at the mummified body, Jack was satisfied that Danny was ready to be moved. He was about to go and get Lucy when a screech of tires stopped him in his tracks. Rushing to the window, Jack looked down and saw a BMW stopped outside his house, four hooded youths were out of the car and making their way to the front door.
One thought screamed out in Jack’s head. LUCY.
He ran past Danny’s body and downstairs two steps at a time, when he saw Lucy closing Danny’s back door. She was carrying her bat and raising her finger to her lips in a shushing motion. Lucy ran towards Jack, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him upstairs.
They moved into the spare room at the back of the house and she whispered, “It’s that gang from Manchester. I recognised the little stocky guy through the window in the door.”
“How do they know where we are?” Jack asked, panic setting in.
“I don’t know, the last I saw of them was shortly before I met you. It could be coincidence.”
Jack raised his eyebrows in doubt.
Lucy continued, “There was four of them, they didn’t hear me leave, I locked the patio door behind me, there’s no way they could guess we’re here. We should just wait it out.”
Amazed at the clarity of Lucy’s mind, Jack gazed at her in wonder; he would never have thought to escape out of the back, let alone remember his hammer or to lock the door behind him. He agreed with Lucy and they sat nervously listening to the banging as the gang began to kick at the front door.
-
Richie kicked at the PVC door with a furious look, his features crinkling around his large nose, as he grunted with each blow. One of the door panels collapsed inwards and Richie crouched to reach around for a key. He found it hanging in the lock on the other side where Jack had left it in case of the need for a speedy exit. Richie pulled the key out of the slot and handed it to Naz.
Unlocking the door, Naz, followed by Richie and two others, swarmed in. Naz commanded, “You two check upstairs, me and Richie will take care of down here. We want the woman, remember, yeah?”
The two men followed their orders and ran upstairs wielding an axe and machete. Naz and Richie did the same downstairs. A quick sweep of the house saw that it was empty. The two from upstairs joined Naz and Richie in the lounge. All eyes were on Naz.
Naz looked down at the coffee table where two road atlases were cast down. Richie made his way to a shelf and picked a picture up, asking, “Is this the guy Naz?”
Looking at it, Naz snarled, “How the fuck should I know Richie you thick cunt. Dale saw him, not me. Fuck knows why that lazy bastard stayed in the fucking mansion.”
He stopped to wipe the spit that had exploded out of his mouth as he roasted Richie pedantically. Richie stood there, his body language showing nothing as his mind raged with fantasies about crushing Naz’s skull with his own hands. Naz continued, “Take the photo and show it to Dale. It’s the same type of car outside alright.”
One of the others picked up an open map that lay on the table. Highlighted routes were all pointing to the same destination. Eastloch in Yorkshire, he studied it and said whilst handing the map to Naz, “Looks like we’ve missed them, they were planning a trip.”
Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Naz spoke again, “Fuck me. Am I the only one with any brains around here? Why the hell would they go on a trip like this and not take their maps? I bet they’re out getting supplies.
“Come on let’s get the fuck out of here and see if this is definitely the fuckhead we’re looking for.”
On that note a bang at the front door followed by a phlegmy moan got the four men’s attention. Richie stepped forward with a smile, taking a large hunting knife from a sheath in his belt, and said, “Mine.”
He opened the door and grabbed the dead man by the neck and pushed the knife forcefully into the creature’s ear, pushing through skin, bone, and eventually brain. The dead man went limp, but Richie continued to hold it by the throat as he twisted the blade back and forth, causing a nauseating wet sound.
“Fuck’s sake Richie. Put him down you sick fuck. Let’s go, yeah?” Naz said. Deep inside he feared Richie, but he couldn’t back down to him or let him see his fears. He watched Richie drop the body and stepped past the deranged stocky little man, stepping over the limp sack of skin that fell over the doorway. The others followed Naz as they got back in the BMW and left with the same urgency as their arrival.
-
Lucy and Jack heard the gang leaving and sneaked past Danny’s body to see the car drive away from the bedroom window. They went back to Jack’s house and saw the body in the doorway. Jack was quick to pull it outside and shut the door. He locked the door and managed to bend the forced door panel shoddily back in place. Turning to Lucy, he said, “We need to leave, now. It’s not safe here, they’ll come back, I know it.”
Surveying the room, Jack swore.
“What’s wrong?” Lucy asked.
“They’ve taken a picture of me and Amy. Why would they want that? It was my–” He cut off, not wanting to finish his sentence. It was a picture that was important to Jack and was, without cloud backup, lost. In the early months after the accident, Jack often spoke to Amy through the photograph and pleaded with her to come back. It was the light in the photo that made her sparkle, showing her smile, kind eyes and sense of fun.
Seeing the look on Jack’s face, Lucy knew what he meant and didn’t question him, she stroked his arm sympathetically. She had left her memories of George in a storage unit in London. She couldn’t get to them, but knew they were there and that one day, if the time was right, she would be able to get them back. This was a comfort.
“Okay, let’s do this now.” Lucy made the call.
Chapter 19 - Highwayman
It took less than an hour for Lucy and Jack to get their stuff together and the car packed. It would have been quicker, but one of the dead wondered down the street and hung around for a little too long. Neither of them wanted to go out and deal with it so they’d silently and individually made the decision to let it wander off.
Jack had taken a plastic jerrycan from the garage and snuck next door to Danny’s car. He’d had to get the keys from inside Danny’s house to open the car’s fuel cap and had felt guilt whilst rummaging around the recently deceased man’s house.
With his hose pipe, jerrycan and ’how-to syphon fuel’ printed instructions, Jack managed, after some difficulty and a rancid petroleum mouth, to fill up the jerrycan. He made a mental note to take a bottle of water, to swill his mouth out, with him next time. He took the petrol, and with a funnel he’d found in the kitchen, topped the Citroen up. He went back to Danny’s car and filled the jerrycan up once again and secured the lid. Extra fuel for the trip, just in case.
The two of them had reasoned that it could take up to three days to make it over to Yorkshire, so they packed food and water for the trip. The hammer and bat would ride in the
front with them along with the maps. They were going to share driving and navigation, but Jack was driving first.
Jack looked at Lucy and said, “We’re all packed, the car is fuelled. Are you ready?”
“One last thing, then let’s go.” She replied and got a pen and piece of paper and sat down at the kitchen table and began to write a note. Lucy left out of the back door, under the fence and came back soon after.
Turning to Jack with a smile, her eyes teary, she said, “I know we can’t bury Danny, so I wanted to leave something nice for him.”
“What did you write?”
“Just the truth. He was a good man.”
Jack didn’t question further, he took Lucy by the hand and gave it a little squeeze. They quietly left the house, Jack locking the door for the last time. They drove down the road, Jack leaving behind his old life: Amy and Ruby, the years of happiness and the past five years of simply existing. Watching out of the rear-view mirror, he choked down shuddering sobs and swallowed hard.
The car moved away from the house and from Danny. A folded note lay on top of his body and read:
My name was Danny. I was loved as a husband, a son, and a friend. I am with my beautiful wife Dawn and we are happy. 17/05/2017.
-
The route they had chosen was over 300 miles and zigzagged avoiding major roads and built up areas. The pre-apocalypse route would have been about 100 miles, so they’d added a lot of distance for their own safety.
They were still in the village heading out, driving slowly to conserve fuel, Jack had wished he’d syphoned more petrol as the car was a little over half full. A mile down the road, Jack slowed the car down to a crawl, a dead man staggered across the verge and towards the car, Jack said, “Fuck me, that’s Wes Brown.”
“Did you know him?” Lucy asked with compassion.
“No, err no. He used to play for Manchester United, he’s a footballer, he was a footballer. I think he lived around here.” Jack responded, the surreal nature of seeing someone he’d seen play football at the highest level; now a reanimated corpse was just too bizarre for him to comprehend.
