“Where the hell is he?” Gordon asked, referring to Mickey Round.
Nobody answered, because nobody knew.
“I'll check out the back.” Lloyd began to head for the door. “His rowing boat's still there, so he must be about somewhere.”
Lloyd took a short walk around the cabin, his wet feet dragging through the bracken and long grass, and once he reached the back of the place the mystery of the missing Mickey Round had been solved.
Lloyd put his T-shirt over his face and his footsteps made the buzzing flies disperse a little once he got closer to the decomposed body. Lloyd had to look away once he saw the maggots writhing excitedly out of the man's eye sockets, and was convinced he was going to be sick. He gulped in a few deep breaths of air and seemed to have kept the little food he had left in his stomach.
He had no idea how Mickey Round had died, but judging by the state of his body he had been dead for weeks. Natural causes?
That's the problem with living on your own, especially when you're an old man, Lloyd thought. If anything happens, there's no one to come to your aid.
He took another gape at the body and guessed that he could have had a heart attack whilst he was outside, collapsed, and never got back up again. Whatever way he died, it removed the problem of trying to persuade the owner if they could stay or not.
Lloyd returned to the cabin to see the three sitting down on the couch, all had towels wrapped around their shoulders.
“Great.” Lloyd smiled. “You found towels.”
Gordon put his hand to the side of him and threw one at Lloyd, which he caught. “And one for you.”
“Any sign of the old man?” Joan shivered next to Junior, and her teeth began to chatter.
“He's dead,” Lloyd bluntly said. “His body's round the back. Looks like he's been dead for weeks. Probably a heart attack or something.”
“We found some food in a cupboard,” announced Junior. “Some tins and stuff. No milk or anything.”
“I don't think the guy has a fridge.” Gordon spoke up.
“The water from the sink will keep us hydrated.” Lloyd took a walk over to the cupboard and could see tins of beans, ravioli and tuna. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to keep all four going for another two days.
“I'm exhausted.” Gordon groaned, and tried to joke, “It's early evening. I think I'm gonna find a corner and sleep for a day.”
“Do you think we should keep a watch tonight?” asked Lloyd.
“Defo.” Joan scratched at her dark hair and said, “I can do the first stint. Gordon can do the last if he's that tired.”
“But what's the point if they're over there?” Junior spoke with tiredness in his tone.
“Just to be on the safe side.” Joan smiled at Junior. She could see he was nervous. “If they somehow become brave enough to try and cross, or even quickly learn how to swim across, which I doubt, then someone needs to inform the rest of us what is happening.”
“And if they do?” asked Junior, unsure he wanted to hear the answer.
Lloyd intervened, “Then we untie the rowing boat, drag it across the island and put it into the water on the other side and head to the other side of the land, where the forest is.”
“I don't want to go into the forest.” Junior shook with the cold and his nerves.
“Neither do I, son. But I don't want to get bitten either.”
“What's that noise?” Gordon stood up, and all of them now stood, in silence, listening to the faint sound of engine noises.
Lloyd peered out of the door and squinted his eyes upwards. Above him he saw two Panavia Tornados scream past, and watched them until they were just spots in the sky. He felt a presence from behind and turned around to see Joan, Junior and Gordon behind him, all trying to get a look at what had been causing the noise.
“That's a good sign, isn't it?” Gordon spoke from behind.
Lloyd nodded. “I think so.” He wasn't so sure.
Lloyd opened the door wider and stepped out. It was late evening and the sky was dull with black clouds. Drizzle began to fall from the heavens and Lloyd walked out with his towel still around his shoulders.
“Come in, Lloyd,” Joan called out. “You're gonna get soaked ... again. You'll catch a death.”
Lloyd ignored her words and walked up to the rowing boat and stood at the edge of the water. He looked across and could see trees and some parts of his abandoned pub, but no Runners.
They were gone.
“They're gone,” Lloyd announced.
He was soon joined by the other three, still with their towels around their shivering shoulders, and stared out in disbelief. Although there was relief, nobody cracked a smile.
“I wonder if they'll be back.” Junior stood next to his dad and gently pressed his head against his shoulder. This had been the first time that Joan had seen any emotion between father and son, and was touched by what she saw.
“I think the planes drove them away.” Lloyd stood up straight, still shivering. “At least nobody will need to keep a watch now.”
Junior queried, “You mean they were scared of them—the noise, I mean?”
“I don't think so, Junior,” said his father. “I think they were probably distracted by them, maybe even tried to follow them. They're still human, but I don't think they have the intelligence that they had before they were infected.”
“I've seen the films,” said Junior. “But I never thought they'd be this quick.”
Knowing what Junior was trying to say, Gordon said, “They're not zombies, Junior?”
“No?”
“No. They're still people, technically still alive, whose bodies are ravaged with some sort of biological pathogen that transforms the hosts bodies and minds. The immediate change is a total reversion to an aggressive, feral personality type.” Gordon laughed, “Maybe you should have paid more attention to the TV rather than your Xbox.”
“That's my fault,” Lloyd spoke up. “I didn't really want him to see all of the footage they were showing. He'd seen enough; then I urged him to go to his room and told him that things should die down in a few days.”
“According to what we've seen,” Gordon turned to look at Junior, “an infected individual will attack any human, regardless of past emotional connection, with rabid ferocity, and all the strength and mobility they can muster. Both the biological infection, and its primal hosts spread quicker than the creatures in the Romero films you've been watching.”
“So what's worse? Them or...” Junior paused and began to feel his throat tighten with emotion.
“I think the good news is that these things are more fragile than what you've seen in the movies.” This time it was Joan's turn to speak. “The better news is that we're in the middle of nowhere and I'm pretty sure we, humans, will overcome this. I reckon these Runners have an average life-span of only weeks or months, as the body begins to dehydrate, muscles and other organs should begin to fail.”
“And we've seen ourselves that they can be killed just like you and I,” said Gordon, trying to appease the teenager that was now showing signs that he was ready to break down. Whereas zombies require their brain to be destroyed before final death, and can be intact for years without food, water, or even oxygen.”
“We'll be fine.” Lloyd now had his arm around his frightened son. “We just need to ride it out, that's all.”
“Dad?”
“What is it?”
Junior broke down in front of Gordon and Joan, but appeared oblivious that they were next to him. “I'm scared.”
As both father and son hugged one another, Joan tapped Gordon on the shoulder and made a head gesture to suggest that they should both leave Lloyd and Junior alone during this emotional and delicate period.
With a towel still around their shoulders, Gordon and Joan squelched their way back to the cabin, kicked their shoes off and took off their wet socks and crashed on the couch together.
“You okay?” asked Gordon.
&nbs
p; “Not bad, considering...” Joan smiled.
Gordon leaned his head back and looked up to the ceiling. He then closed his eyes and could feel the head of Joan resting on his shoulder. “I wonder where Junior's mother is?” murmured Gordon.
Joan was too tired to respond. It had been a few days from hell, and neither one was absolutely certain what was in store for them the next day. As for now, all they both wanted to do was sleep.
When Lloyd and Junior returned from outside, Joan and Gordon had moved and were now snuggled up on the mattress, still with their towels around them. Lloyd and Junior decided to share the couch.
They all lay down and worried about what tomorrow would bring. Gordon remembered something that was on his friend's coffee mug from work. It stated: The struggle you're in today, is developing the strength for tomorrow.
“Good night, people,” whispered Lloyd. “Here's to a better tomorrow.”
Nobody responded, and the owner of The White Horse pub turned on his side and closed his eyes.
It was time to rest.
Chapter Thirty Three
Wednesday 6th June
He was lucky if he had had more than four hours sleep. Lloyd Dickinson was spent the night before, but as soon as he closed his eyes the magnitude of what had happened over the last couple of days had finally hit him. He shed tears in the late evening, quietly in the darkness of the cold hut, and did his utmost from breaking down completely and waking Junior up.
Once he woke up, he looked around in the dusky place. Cracks of light spilled through the hut, suggesting to Lloyd that it was early morning, and could see the outline of Gordon and Joan, both snoring gently. He slowly got himself off the couch, trying not to disturb his son, and stood up straight. He refused to moan as soon as he felt the smarting in his lower back. Was it old age or sleeping on that damn sofa?
After putting his shoes on, he headed for the door. After seeing them drown he was confident there were none on the small island, but was still reluctant to go out.
He stepped out into the morning sunshine, and looked behind him where the forest could be seen. He then turned to look over where his pub was situated, walked a few yards, then stopped altogether once he was a foot away from the water. He glared at the sparkling pond, the sun hanging in the cloudless sky, and couldn't see any sign of the bodies that had perished the evening before. Maybe they were now at the bottom of the pond. Or... No! He shook his head, refusing to let the paranoia snowball. They were all dead. The ones that followed them into the water had all perished.
He glared at the trees and could see parts of the building to the establishment he had ran for years, and his vision became blurry once the events took a hold of him again. He became emotional. For minutes he stared out, then began furiously rubbing his eyes when his blurry vision clocked a shape coming out of the trees, where his pub's car park was, and now standing by the side of the water.
“What the..?”
He remained staring at the figure at the other side of the water, and remained transfixed, convinced that it was a non-infected human being. Even though the shape that was definitely a man was a fair distance away, Lloyd thought that he had seen this individual before.
Both individuals, from afar, gazed at one another. Lloyd then suddenly gasped when the figure raised its hand in a 'hello' gesture. He knew who it was.
“Fuck!” Lloyd quickly turned around once his shoulder was tapped, to see Junior standing behind him. His heart was smacking against his chest after getting his fright, and scolded, “Don't fucking do that again!”
Junior never responded. He stood next to his father, and nodded in the direction at where their pub was, where the man was standing. “Is that one of them?”
“No.” Lloyd shook his head. “It's a lot worse.”
“What do you mean?”
Lloyd opened his mouth to say something, but paused. Eventually, he spoke, “That man is someone you don't wanna know. I didn't think I'd ever see him again.”
Junior was baffled by his dad's gibberish, and failed to respond. The man from the other side raised his hand once again.
“Who is it?” asked Junior.
Lloyd sighed, “Just a man I once knew.”
“I think he wants to come across,” said Junior.
“Probably.” Lloyd nodded.
Junior looked at his father and said, “Well?”
Lloyd took a few steps over to the rowing boat. He untied the small boat and began to gently push it into the water, then jumped in. “You stay there,” Lloyd ordered.
Junior nodded obediently and saw his dad slowly drift away and pick up the two oars that were inside the boat. Lloyd began to row as if it was something he had done before, whilst Junior looked on, then took a gape at the man that was standing at the water's edge.
“Dad, are you sure about this?” Junior called out.
Lloyd smiled at his son as he went further away. “I suppose I have to. He's my brother, your uncle.”
“Uncle Marvin?” Junior muttered to himself.
Lloyd's oar had struck something whilst trying to cross, and guessed correctly that it was one of the drowned bodies that he had struck. There were no other obstructions as he reached the other side.
He stood up as the boat scraped along the pond's floor and saw his big brother. He looked older, even a little haggard looking. Lloyd stepped out of the boat and his feet touched the dirt at the edge of the pond.
“You made it then,” Lloyd said to the waiting man.
Marvin nodded. “Sure did, bro. How about a hug?”
“Let's not bother.”
Marvin looked awkward, peered over his shoulder, and then turned back to stare at Lloyd. “They attacked your place?”
Lloyd nodded.
“Look...” Marvin cleared his throat before he continued further. “I know you hate my guts—”
“Are you coming over, or what, man?”
“Really?”
Lloyd nodded.
“But why?”
Lloyd sighed, “You're an arsehole, but you're still my big brother.”
Both men got into the boat and Lloyd rowed it gently, knowing that there were drowned bodies underneath him, and was paranoid about hitting one of them again and losing an oar. The slow row eventually came to a stop once they reached the small island. Marvin looked up and saw a kid he had never seen before. The kid smiled, and Marvin smiled back.
“Come on.” Lloyd stood up and stepped out of the boat, then began to tie it up. “You can meet some friends of mine.” He then stood next to his son, who was waiting by the water's edge, and put his arm around him. Lloyd watched Marvin get out of the boat and introduced Junior to the man. “This is your uncle,” said Lloyd.
Junior just stood and stared, and Marvin released a thin smile and made a quick nod of the head. “Pleased to meet you. I reckon you've heard all about me.”
“Yes.” Junior nodded. “All bad.”
Marvin snickered at the young boy's honesty. “Well, he's definitely a Dickinson.” He looked over at Lloyd with a smile on his face. “Let's go and meet these friends of yours.”
All three turned and trudged towards the cabin. Lloyd's and Junior's clothes were almost dry from the previous evening's adventure, and were thankful that neither one of them had ended up with a stinking cold.
Junior turned to Lloyd. “Dad?”
Junior had stopped both men in their tracks.
“What is it?” asked Lloyd.
“What do we do now? I mean ... what are we going to do in the long-term?”
Lloyd looked at his big brother for help, but all Marvin could muster was a shrug of the shoulders. Lloyd turned back round to his son. “I suppose...” Lloyd cleared his throat. “What we're gonna be trying—going to do ... is survive, and not get infected.”
“I wonder what it's like?”
Lloyd was baffled by Junior's query, but guessed, “To be infected?”
Junior nodded, and Lloyd could now hear M
arvin sighing impatiently by the side of him. “I suppose it could be like...” Lloyd was struggling for an answer. How the fuck should he know what it was like? Lloyd tried to guess, “It'd either be like ... still being aware of who you are, but having no control over your behaviour. Or, as if your mind has been wiped clean, and ... oh, I don't know. Let's just get the hell inside.”
“Here, here,” cackled Marvin.
Before Lloyd had a chance to open the door to the cabin, the door opened and standing in the doorway was Gordon.
“I thought I heard noises,” said Gordon.
Lloyd could hear that Joan was stirring, and said to Gordon, “Sleep well?”
“So-so.” Gordon gazed at Marvin, waiting for an introduction.
“Oh.” Lloyd shook his head and announced, “This is Marvin. My brother.”
Baffled, Gordon nodded at Marvin and opened the door wider and moved away, allowing the three into the cabin. Gordon then stepped out of the cabin and took in a breath of fresh air, and wondered what kind of surprises and horror this new day was going to bring.
He gaped over at the pond where the Runners had been and where some had perished, and felt a twinge of sadness. They would gladly rip him to pieces if they had the chance, but the few that had drowned were still human beings. He puffed out his chest and tried to swallow, but his tight throat was making this a hard task to do.
Gordon lowered his head, thankful that he hadn't been infected, and had a moment to himself. A minute later, he raised his head once he heard Joan in the background, asking where he had got to.
Taking a few more gulps of air, he returned to the cabin and shut the door behind him. He had no idea what the future held for him, but today, for the first time in years, he was going to pray to a God that he had ignored for most of his life.
He couldn't think of anything else he could do.
PART TWO
Chapter One
The Monsterland Trilogy [Books 1-3] Page 15
