Gordon took the four steps to the main door as slow as he could, had one more look around, then opened the door. He stepped inside, went into the living room and sat next to Joan. Lloyd and Junior were at the other end of the couch.
Joan looked at Gordon and said, “Marvin has gone back to the shed.”
“Has he now?” Gordon looked unimpressed.
“He's gone to pick up a few more of the gas canisters,” said Lloyd. “Saves us a bit of time tomorrow. He insisted.”
Gordon rubbed his head and heard the jeep pull up outside. “Relax,” said Gordon to Lloyd, noticing that he was about to get to his feet. “I'll give him a hand to bring the stuff in.”
“Thanks, man.”
Gordon left the place and shut the door behind him as Marvin was getting out of the jeep.
“You seem quite keen on helping all of a sudden,” Gordon remarked, walking over to Marvin.
“Always like to help,” Marvin chuckled. “I'm a true Christian, Gordon. You know that.”
“It's just that ... I thought we were going to wait until tomorrow.”
Marvin opened the boot, placed the canisters on the ground and shut the door.
“Come on!” Marvin snapped, then looked at the caravan to see if anybody was looking. “Out with it.”
Gordon began grinding his teeth. “I don't know what you mean.”
“Gordon, life was short enough before all of this. Now it's a lot fucking shorter. You now have to live your life like it's your last day.”
“Marvin, I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Marvin took a step forward, so that he was inches away from Gordon's face. His action was threatening, but Gordon refused to back down. “Apart from money and cars, what's the things in this world that a man needs?”
Gordon exhaled noisily, refusing to answer him.
Marvin continued, “Sex and alcohol.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“You saw me in that office, in the shed, didn't you?” Marvin revealed a slow and wide smile, turning Gordon's stomach.
Gordon didn't answer, but his gulp was a giveaway.
“Before I left, I thought I had seen someone in the window, but put it down to my imagination. But with your silent treatment on the way back, I gathered that it was you. You don't like me, so I'm guessing that you were gonna grass to Lloyd about me.” Marvin then began to laugh and put on a fake, whiny voice, badly impersonating Gordon. “Lloyd, Lloyd. Marvin's a naughty boy. He fucked a Runner, and if you don't believe me you can check her out in the shed. Her pants and trousers have been taken off.”
“You're a sick cunt.” Gordon spoke with the rage building, saliva leaving the corner of his mouth.
“Took me a while to realise, but I went back down there and grabbed a few canisters and moved the girl to a more ... let's say ... respectable position. Even put her trousers back on without getting any blood on me.”
Gordon moved away, heading back to the caravan.
Marvin grabbed his shoulder, forcing Gordon to turn around. “Hear me out,” said Marvin. “I'm a big believer in safer in numbers. We're stronger when there's more of us. That's our best chance of surviving. I know you don't like me, but I wouldn't do anything bad to anyone in our group.”
“I don't believe you. The way you treated Kelly—”
“Seriously. I'll watch your back, if you'll watch mine.”
“I'm touched.”
“I'm just trying to have a little fun before my time's up.”
“You finished?”
Marvin nodded.
Gordon silently helped Marvin to put the canisters in the dining area of the caravan, and once it was done, Gordon announced that he was going to lie in one of the rooms for a while.
“You okay?” asked Joan.
Gordon nodded. “Fine. Just need a rest for a few minutes.”
Gordon Burns went into one of the smallest bedrooms he had ever been in, and struggled to find room to get his shoes off. Once he did, he climbed on the bed and lay on his back.
He thought about what relatives he had left, back at his original home in Staffordshire, then began to think about his work colleagues in Gretna. He hoped they were like him: struggling, but still alive and not infected. It'd be good to see them again. He loved some of his work colleagues more than he loved some of his family members.
Despite what was going on and what was happening, he was glad that he was still alive and he was glad that he wasn't infected.
He was praying that it would stay that way.
He was certain that this was just the beginning, and wasn't sure if he had the stomach, the balls and even the luck to last another week unscathed.
He hoped so.
God, he hoped so.
PART THREE
Chapter One
Wednesday 13th June
Gordon Burns woke up in one of the caravan’s bedrooms with sweat under his neck. He sat up and forgot for a few seconds where he was. He released a sad sigh when it all came flooding back to him.
Since they had reached the caravan park, Joan, Gordon and the three Dickinsons had experienced welcome days of no incidents. Their existence was monotonous, but at least they were safe and were not fleeing or hiding from the Runners.
Not a single Runner had been seen for days, and all hoped that that was the way it was going to stay. They were in the north east of England, miles from the nearest town, and although the monotony was killing them, they were still alive.
Gordon got out of his bed, ruffled his hands through his dark hair, and then quickly got dressed.
As he walked out of the room, Gordon ran his fingers through his dark hair and then ran them over his stubbly chin. He went to the bathroom, peed, and then took a look in the mirror. The weeks of being petrified were taking its toll on the man. He looked like he had aged ten years.
Gordon gave off a wry smile and headed for the kitchen area of the caravan to make himself a coffee, trying to make as little noise as possible. Joan was sleeping in the next bedroom. He decided to leave the coffee for the time being and went over to the couch. He sat down and gave off a moan and rested his head on the top part of the sofa.
A small smile developed on his features when he thought about last night. After they had all eaten together, Gordon and Joan left Marvin, Lloyd and Junior to go back to their own caravan and have sex. Lloyd said he'd keep watch on the night, but because of the lack of Runners, everybody was confident that the scary incident at Blanchland wouldn't happen at this place. However, there was always a chance of the odd stray to reach the campsite.
After sex, Joan and Gordon slept in the same room briefly, but because of Gordon's snoring he was politely asked to go in the other room and had managed seven hours without a single nightmare about the gowned man from the first night.
His trance-like state only lasted a few seconds when a noise at the side of the caravan made his heart almost jump out of his chest.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He slowly got to his feet and could feel and hear his ankles and knees cracking as he made his way over to the front window of the living room. His fingers pulled back the curtains and held his breath as he looked out. He could hear the sound of his heart beating furiously and thought that he was going to have a cardiac arrest. He was certain that a lot of older men already had since this crisis broke out.
He looked to the left, but there was nothing there. A sound to his right made him quickly turn his head and it took a while before his brain could process what it was that he was staring at.
Gordon released a relieved breath out; he managed a small smile and could already hear that the most important muscle in his body was beginning to calm down. He continued to gaze at the fox and admired its beautiful coat and bushy tail. Gordon jumped when the animal was given a fright and ran off, making the man paranoid.
Why did it have a fright? Did it sense Gordon's presence? Was it something else that spooked the fox? A Runner?
He plonked the bottle on the side and headed for the bedroom where Joan was sleeping. He popped his head in the room where she was. She was still dead to the world; she looked peaceful, and Gordon thought it would be cruel to wake her. It wasn't that late and he was sure that the Dickinsons in the next caravan were still in their beds.
He decided to leave her be and headed for the main door to get some fresh air.
He opened it and sat on the first step. He gazed into nothingness and his eyes were suddenly attracted to movement coming from one of the windows where Lloyd, Marvin and Junior were staying.
Gordon gritted his teeth as his eyes clocked Marvin Dickinson. He was naked in the bedroom and was sarcastically waving at Gordon after he spotted him. Marvin grabbed his cock, to simply get a rise out of Gordon, and Gordon Burns turned away and decided to go back inside.
Gordon shook his head and muttered, “Fucking prick,” before slamming the front door shut.
Chapter Two
Marvin Dickinson was the first to wake up out of the three of them. He stepped out of the bed, completely naked, and could see Gordon Burns staring at him from the other caravan.
After tormenting Gordon, the only way Marvin could, he got dressed and then crept out of his room and tried to make as little noise as possible, aware that Lloyd and his nephew, Junior, were in the next room. He was fully dressed, wearing blue jeans and a black T-shirt.
He went into the bathroom and emptied his bladder. He shook his cock and put it back into his pants, then reached for a bit of toilet roll so he could blow his nose. Once both nostrils were emptied, he screwed up the toilet paper and threw it into the toilet. He then looked in the mirror and gazed at his short grey hair. It was a skinhead a few weeks ago, but it was growing like wild fire. He rubbed his stubbly chin, and then pulled out a dark hair that was hanging out of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
He thought about Joan and Gordon in the next caravan. They thought it was better and healthier for the group to be split, especially with Marvin around, but Marvin thought it was a bullshit excuse.
He knew that Joan and Gordon hated him; he wasn't stupid, and he also knew that Joan and Gordon were also fucking each other. She wasn't the best looking girl in the world, but Joan would get it, good and hard, Marvin thought.
He continued to think about Joan and felt a twinge in his groin. He revealed a smirk and pulled his bottom clothing down to his knees. He grabbed his already-erect penis. He then threw his head back whilst he began tugging away, imagining that Joan was sucking him off.
He did this for a minute, then stopped playing with himself when he realised he was embarrassingly close so early. He opened his eyes, took a step back and was now fantasising that he was taking Joan from behind. He tugged away furiously, cussing under his breath, pretending to call her names, and threw his head back when he realised he was getting close again. Normally, especially if he was at home, he would tear off a few pieces of toilet paper and wrap it around his cock, so that the semen would be collected and not fly onto a wall or something. But today he didn't care.
As soon as he was finished, he ripped off some toilet roll, wiped the mess and then wiped himself before putting it into the toilet water. Despite his pee earlier, he managed another small one, just enough to clean out the tubes, as he would say, and pulled his clothing back up.
Once his top button was done on his jeans, he unlocked the bathroom door and left for the living room.
It was time for a cup of tea.
*
The creak from the floor made Gordon sit up.
He smiled when be saw the frame of Joan Burnley walking towards him. She was dressed just in her pants and the T-shirt she'd slept in, and had tucked her shoulder length hair behind her ears.
“That's a nice view,” Gordon spoke with a cheeky grin.
“It won't be like this in a couple of months,” said Joan. She then sat beside Gordon and rested her head on his shoulder. “It's gonna be freezing in here in a few months. We’ll be walking round fully-clothed.”
“Ah, but we have those gas canisters now, don't we?”
“We should use them for cooking, not for heating.”
Gordon smiled and added, “We can't freeze to death.”
“Of course not. We'll just have to wear extra clothing to bed. Did you see the clothes that were left behind in the cupboard?”
“No,” Gordon shook his head, “but I did see the two dressing gowns hanging up on the door of the room that you slept in.”
A silence enveloped the pair of them and both seemed content to sit in quiet, until Gordon ruined the tranquillity and spoke up.
“I can't stop thinking about them,” he said.
“Who?” Joan mumbled. She wasn’t sure who he was talking about. “The Runners?”
Gordon nodded. “Yes.”
“We haven’t seen any for days.”
“I know, but we can't stay here forever, and what Lloyd was talking about last night frightened the shit out of me.”
Gordon was referring to the evening before when they had dinner together, all five of them, and Lloyd had announced that if they wanted to stay where they were and stop moving about for while, then they would have to go out and risk looking for supplies. What they already had wasn't going to last with five mouths to feed, especially when one was a ravenous teenager. He had mentioned that not only was there a farm a mile up the road, but there was also an industrial estate where numerous businesses were, including a supermarket and a petrol station. Lloyd admitted that he didn’t know the area well, but had passed through it once, many moons ago.
“Lloyd has a point,” murmured Joan. She still had her head on Gordon’s shoulder and was now drifting off back to sleep. “If this thing is not being dealt with by the authorities, we need to get as much stuff as we can. The petrol has probably gone, but there might be some food left at the supermarket that he mentioned. And who knows what's at the farm?”
“Lloyd said he was taking Marvin with him,” said Gordon. “Have no idea when they’re gonna go.”
“I know.” She nodded. “I think two's enough.”
“That guy's a fucking liability.”
“Who?”
“Who do you pissing think?”
“Marvin?”
“Of course.”
“He certainly has his own way of doing things, that’s for sure.
Gordon clenched his fists and began to grind his teeth. “How he treated Kelly, killing Jory, and then raping that Runner ... he's just unstable. I really hate the fucking cunt.”
“So do I.” Joan then began to giggle, “Let's hope he doesn't make it back.”
“What are the chances of that happening?”
“You never know.”
“Just the four of us.” Gordon smiled and began to daydream about life without Marvin Dickinson. “That sounds good to me.”
Gordon could now hear Joan snoring gently on his shoulder. He decided to stay where he was and give her an extra half an hour.
It looked like the pair of them were going to be on babysitting duty sometime, with the two senior Dickinsons out on the road, leaving Junior behind, but Gordon was happy with that. Marvin would be out of the way and he would get to spend the day with Joan. It could be a lot worse.
Chapter Three
Lloyd Dickinson sat up in bed after having a bizarre dream about being chased by a gang of hamsters. He snickered as he thought about the dream, and then lost his smile when he looked around the bedroom and realised where he was and the predicament he was in.
When they arrived at the caravan park, Junior
moaned on the first night that he wanted to sleep on his own. Lloyd wouldn't have any of it.
Lloyd wouldn't be able to settle, with his son in the other room, and told him that the sleeping arrangements, despite there being three bedrooms, weren’t up for discussion. But for the last couple of nights, Junior had his own room.
Lloyd crept out of the bedroom and put his clothes on that he had been wearing for the last couple of days. He sniffed the sleeve of his red T-shirt and pulled a face. He had no idea how long they were going to stay here, but the visit to the farm and the supermarket that they talked about the other day would have to include getting clothes as well as food and gas.
Fortunately, they had a black Hyundai jeep sitting outside, the same one Lloyd used to escape from Blanchland whilst the others walked along the bank of the canal.
Lloyd opened a bedroom door and peered into Junior’s room to see the teenager dead to the world. He closed it and headed for the living room area of the caravan. He could see that Marvin was already sitting on the couch in the living room. Lloyd sat next to his older brother and said, “I wonder if Gordon and Joan are up.”
“Gordon's up.” Marvin nodded and added with a grin, “I was waving to him just a few minutes ago.”
“Waving to him?” Lloyd looked at Marvin suspiciously. “Marvin, you're not the type of guy that waves to people, not in a friendly way anyway.”
“I'm hurt by your comment,” Marvin laughed.
Lloyd began, “Anyway, I've been ignoring it for a few days, but I've noticed you and Gordon don't really speak anymore. What's going on there, man?”
Marvin took a slurp of his tepid tea and hunched his shoulders. “The guy just doesn't like me. He's a proper fucking wimp. I think the Jory thing freaked him out.”
“Well, you did stab the man to death in the middle of the road.”
“He was infected. And besides...”
Lloyd nodded, remembering a conversation the pair of them had a few days ago. “I know. He made your life a misery in prison...”
The Monsterland Trilogy [Books 1-3] Page 30
