A Dead Disappointment

by Birch, S. C.

  “Hostile, three o’clock.”

  The soldiers all spun round again and slaughtered two shufflers.

  “So like I was saying,” continued their leader as though nothing had happened, “he wants you guys to talk to everyone and give information videos or some shit like that. I don’t know. Oh,” he looked at Jack, “and we want a blood sample from you. So on you come then, follow us. We’re going to take you to safety. And the name’s Andrew, by the way. Andrew Samson. Any issues, just ask for me.”

  Owen slid forwards a little, “Eh, I need to go home first.”

  Andrew looked at him, “Why’s that?”

  “My-my dog’s there. I need to get him.” Owen was praying that his fame gave him a little leeway. But it didn’t.

  “Not a possibility.” said Andrew, “We need to get you to safety, now. No discussions.” and before Owen had a chance to protest, Andrew turned to his soldiers and waved his arm in the air, “Let’s go, Boys!”

  ***

  Owen drove behind the convoy. Every time he was sure one of the soldiers ahead wasn’t looking at him, he spun his head around in all directions, looking for a road or lane he could slip through and make his way back home. But the guns in front of him and his friends behind forced Owen to abandon his dog. And it broke his heart.

  Owen felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and heard another two in his car ding. But he ignored it.

  Lucy pulled her phone out and read the text. “That’s good actually. Cam’s said not to use out talkies in case they listen in. And he’s asked that we don’t call him paranoid.”

  Owen nodded to show that he understood, but he didn’t talk.

  “I’m really not happy with this.” said Daniel.

  “Me neither. I really don’t like this.” said Lucy.

  Their phones dinged.

  Emily: “Are we actually following these manic fuckers?”

  Grace: “Looks like.”

  Grace again: “Jack said we should get Mortimer and make a run for it.”

  Emily: “The dick would say that wouldn’t he! Still not forgiven you for that.”

  Grace: “Jack said something rude. I’m not telling you what. But he’s not happy.”

  “What’s everyone saying?” asked Owen.

  “Err,” said Lucy, “Jack and Em are fighting. But he did say we should just get Mortimer and ditch the soldiers.”

  “Tell them we can’t. I don’t think they’re going to let us just leave.” said Owen, although it pained him to admit it aloud.

  So Lucy sent a text: “Owen says we can’t leave. We need to keep following them.”

  Emily sent the next text: “Bullshit! They can’t force us into this! It’s a trap!”

  “Emily says that they can’t make us do anything. And something about this being a trap…” said Daniel as he relayed the message.

  “Oh, I think they can,” replied Owen, “unless you want to take your chances and hope they don’t fucking kill us. And tell Emily to shut the fuck up and stop referencing shit.”

  Daniel: “Owen thinks that they might kill us if we try it.” but he ignored the request to tell Emily to shut up.

  “Got a plan.” said Daniel with his voice, then he went silent and looked at the two also in the car.

  “What plan?” asked Owen after the silence became more annoying than he could handle.

  “We stop the cars and tell them that we aren’t going anywhere unless they get our parents.” said Daniel.

  Lucy texted everyone the plan.

  “I think we should do that.” agreed Owen. But he knew that his parents would still be abandoned, what with living in another country. But, at least Owen could help keep his friend’s families safe.

  Lucy checked her phone, “Emily says that her parents would probably just stay where they are.” Then the phone dinged again, “And she’s saying that Cam doesn’t want his brother and sister near these guys.”

  “Can’t say I blame him.” said Owen. “And I’m betting I know how you feel about this?”

  Lucy nodded.

  The plan was abandoned.

  Instead they followed the guns in front of them. Every now and again a zombie or few would appear on the road and the soldiers decimated them. And every time, Owen felt a churning in his stomach, his heart dipped inside of him, and he gripped his steering wheel a little tighter.

  Day Fourteen

  As the trucks ahead started to slow down, so did Owen. The city was dark and the roads dim. Ahead Owen saw Andrew down jump from a truck. The headlights illuminated him. He approached a large metal wall. But he left the light and Owen could no longer see him.

  The convoy started moving again. As they slowly moved forwards, more of the city came to view. It wasn’t a wall; it was a gate. And it was being pulled open by a few people. Maybe builders? Mechanics? Owen didn’t know, but they looked like regular men.

  The gate was walled on either side, made from vehicles and rubble. This “wall” ran through the roads and pavements, intertwined with the tall buildings.

  Lucy leaned forwards and pushed herself between the two boys, “I hate to say it, but I’m actually impressed that they built all this so quickly. I mean, look at it. It’s been thirteen days and they’ve already secured somewhere. That’s quick.”

  Owen looked at his dashboard, “Fourteen days. It’s ten past twelve.”

  “Oh, ha-ha.” Lucy shot at him.

  Metal ground down on concrete as the gate was opened. Andrew approached the cars and waved them in. Owen changed gear and crept forwards, behind the soldiers. He passed the gate and felt like he was being swallowed by a beast.

  Owen had spent years submerging himself in apocalyptic things. Video games, movies, books, comics, TV. Everything he could get his hands on. And this City looked as fresh-apocalyptic as he could have ever imagined. Its innards were huge. The buildings all tall and old. Made from grey stone and lined with windows. The streets were dark even though the streetlights were on. The convoy moved slowly. They drove around broken furniture and garbage. Thin smoke clogged the air. The people clogged the streets. Huddled in doorframes, lying in sleeping bags, and some were coughing painfully. Many of the shops on the street were open. The insides illuminated with light and more people, some soldiers and some others, stood inside, taking refuge and shelter.

  The car and Owen crawled through the streets, deeper into the city. It was dank, dark and dirty. Less homeless people now, but more soldiers.

  “This was a really bad fucking idea.” Owen said.

  “Well, we’re kind of stuck now.” Lucy sat back in her seat and pulled up her knees, wrapping her hands around her shins.

  Their phones dinged again. Lucy checked it, “Emily says it a trap again. Why does she keep saying that?”

  Owen shook his head, “Just ignore her.”

  Andrew was walking along, talking into a phone. He nodded and passed the phone to another soldier, then walked up to Owen’s window and rapped his knuckles on the glass.

  Owen rolled down his window.

  Andrew thumped a hand on the roof and leaned into the car. His eyes slid off passengers then settled on Owen, “We’re taking you to the Tomkins Hotel. We need you to stay there just now. Being a P.O.I and that.”

  “P.O.I?” asked Owen.

  Andrew nodded, “Person of interest. We’ll put your friends in the camp we’ve set up and you’re for the hotel.”

  Owen heard Lucy draw in her breath.

  “No. No, I need them to come with me.” he said.

  Andrew looked down at Owen, “Why’s that?”

  “That’s just how it is.” Owen said, “Think of us like a package deal.”

  “That should be alright. These two can come with then.” said Andrew.

  “No!” said Owen, “That’s not an option. I need all of them. The other four, too.”

  Andrew stared in silence.

  “It’s not negotiable.” Owen said, “All of us or none of us.”

  An
drew pushed up his helmet with his thumb and sighed. “Fine. But you’re all sharing a room.”

  “I can live with that.” said Owen.

  Andrew patted the roof of the car and walked forwards.

  Owen, who had been holding his breath, let it all out, “Oh holy shit.”

  “This was a horrible idea.” said Lucy.

  “Thanks, man,” Daniel said. “That was really, really good of you.”

  As Owen followed the trucks ahead, he was waved down by Andrew so headed in the direction of his pointing gun. He drove around the corner of a large building and looked up. It was something his mum always used to tell him to do when he was a kid. Every surface of the building was covered in glass that once would have reflected the moon but was now grey and haggard. And there was something, a little niggling in the back of Owen’s head as he pulled into the carpark. Something had gone wrong here.

  Owen grabbed his walkie-talkie, phone, bat, and left the car.

  “Grab everything you need. Quickly.” Andrew said.

  Owen went to the back of the car and grabbed a bag.

  “That’s enough.” Andrew said. “This way.”

  In silence, the gang followed. They went back up the street, and into the front entrance of the hotel.

  The lobby was filled with soldiers who were either standing on guard or talking to each other and laughing. The place smelled of disinfectant and metal. Andrew and a few other guns led them to a large lift which they crammed into. Andrew pressed the button marked ‘Seven’. The lift shuddered into life and started climbing. The gun never left Andrew’s grip. Owen could hear shuffling behind him, but he didn’t change his focus. Metal grinding screeched inside the cramped box.

  The lift jolted.

  They all got out.

  Owen followed his escorts through bright corridors, over a worn carpet and past beige walls till they reached door ‘Seven Fourteen’.

  Andrew pushed the door open and stood beside it, “In you go.”

  Cameron and Lucy were the first in. Then Daniel. Then Jack and Grace. Owen waited. Crossing over the frame and into the room marked an end of something. Owen wasn’t sure of what; his freedom, civil rights, safety, life? But he didn’t want to give up so easily. This was his only protest.

  Emily grabbed his arm and pulled him through.

  The room was small. Two single beds pressed together devoured most of the space. The far wall was entirely widowed. Owen dropped the things he had been carrying on a bed and walked to the window. He could faintly smell something like a mixture of sickly sweet sweat and rotting meat.

  “Listen up.” said Andrew, “I’m locking you in for security reasons. When we need you, we will come get you. Someone will be here in the morning with food.” he pulled the door closed and locked it behind him.

  Owen looked outside. He could see soldiers trailing the streets, the makeshift wall, and beyond that, outside of the city, some warehouses and smoke. Below he could see his cars. And behind that, crammed into an alley, Owen could see a herd of hungry and cold looking people, cowering together.

  “This was a really, really fucking bad idea.” Owen said to the world outside.

  Jack dropped himself down on the bed, “Yep.”

  “What we do now?” asked Emily.

  Cameron shrugged.

  “TV, maybe?” said Daniel.

  “May as well.” Lucy said. She walked to the wall-mounted television and turned it on.

  The channels were dead. Static.

  “Well that was a bust.” she said.

  “I need out of here.” Owen said.

  “How you planning that?” Jack asked, “Don’t think you could survive the jump from here.”

  “Hmmm, maybe he could.” said Grace.

  “No, he wouldn’t. Nobody could.” Jack replied.

  “I think he could. Owen, didn’t you do your own stunts in that movie?” she asked, and Owen nodded, “There. He probably could make it.”

  “What?” Jack scoffed. “That’s not how it works!”

  Grace shrugged and sat on the bed beside him.

  “Good lord you confuse me.” Jack said then pulled Grace in close.

  “Yep. Gonna be sick.” said Emily.

  Jack glowered at her, “Oh just don’t start vomiting blood or anything like that.”

  “Fuck up, dick face.” Emily said.

  “No!” Jack stood up, “Do you know what? Just no! None of us would be here if it wasn’t for you fucking off earlier! You do not get to have a go at anyone right now.”

  Emily pulled herself up the wall, “Fuck you! They were in that city the same as us!”

  “Why are you such a fucking idiot all the time?” asked Jack. “You honestly think that if we’d all left together then we would still end up here?”

  “Yes!” Emily shrieked.

  “Oh my God, you’re so unbelievably stupid!” Jack screamed, “If we all die here then it’s absolutely your fucking fault!”

  Emily screamed and flew for Jack with her claws bared.

  “Nope.” said Cameron as he wrapped his arms around Emily’s waist.

  “I’m going to kill him!” Emily screeched as she kicked. “Just fuck off!”

  Cameron put Emily in the bathroom and held the door handle, keeping her locked inside. She slammed her hands against the door and screamed at everyone.

  “Emily?” asked Cameron once she stopped screaming.

  “What!” Emily croaked back.

  “I think all things considered, you might want to keep calm.”

  There was a long silence behind the door.

  “Fine!” Emily shouted.

  So Cameron let go of the door and out sulked Emily. She threw herself on the floor and folded her arms.

  “Same goes for you, Jack.” said Cameron, “You aren’t fucking morons so don’t start acting like you are.”

  “Fine!” said Jack as he too sulked.

  “So is everyone calm again?” asked Owen.

  Silence.

  “Fuck it. If you’re not, you can get locked in the toilet. Okay?” Owen didn’t wait for a response and continued talking, “We’re going to sleep. Don’t know what’s happening tomorrow.”

  “You mean later today?” Lucy cut in.

  Owen gritted his teeth and swallowed his rage, “Yes. Thank you, Lucy. Just everyone sleep.”

  He marched over to the door and flicked off the lights. Owen walked back to his post and past everyone as they moved around, trying to find somewhere to sleep. He lay down by the window and looked out of his captivity. Owen couldn’t see the moon or stars, only buildings, soldiers, and survivors. It enraged him. Zombies were unbelievably easy to kill, so why in the hell had the world broken-down? Owen spent the night on the hard, gritty carpet trying to sleep, but mostly looking at freedom beyond that wall.

  * * *

  Sunlight filled the room. Thumping at the door deafened it. Owen wasn’t sure if he had managed to get to sleep or not. But now he decided he wasn’t going to. Owen stretched out his stiff back as he dragged his feet to the knocking.

  “Yeah?”

  “Please stand back, I’m coming in.”

  The door unlocked. It dragged over the carpet, and in the frame stood a soldier with a gun and another with a box. The box was dumped at Owen’s feet then the soldiers started to leave again. But before they left, one said: “Big fan!” with a huge smile.

  “Thanks.” Owen said flatly.

  Then they were locked in again.

  Owen dropped to his knees, pulled out a little butterfly knife tucked away in his boot, and sliced the tape running along the box.

  “What’s that?” asked Daniel.

  “Tell you in a minute.” said Owen as he opened the box. It was filled with thin silver foiled blocks. Confused, Owen picked up the box and looked over it.

  “Err,” he said, “emergency rations.”

  “Nice.” Daniel plunged forwards and tore open the packet with his teeth and munched away. His c
hewing speed dropped and now he looked like he was trying to swallow chalk, “These aren’t good.”

  “Didn’t think they would be.” Owen said. “Sorry.”

  “Shut up.” said Lucy who was trying to sleep with her back up against a wall.

  “Sorry.” Owen said again. He looked around the room. Grace and Jack were on the bed with Daniel, and Lucy on the floor beside. He had been by the window and Cameron was sleeping on the floor across from them all. Owen scanned the room again. Emily was missing. How did that happen? He threw himself up and flew open the bathroom door. Found her. Emily was sleeping, curled up with Grace’s fur coat and a blanket, purring away in the bath.

  “Like you do.” said Owen. He walked away and lay back down by the window. He watched as soldiers fired their guns at approaching zombies outside of the walls. Owen pressed his face against the dirty glass wall. The zombies were faster than before. They were still slow, but now they seemed to be able to jog. But then again, maybe Owen was imagining it all. What with being cooped up in a tiny and overpopulated room.

  Some hours later, an ear-piercing noise rang through the little room.

  “Gnrrr! The fuck is that?” asked Jack from under a pillow he had wrapped around his head.

  The television had switched itself on. The screen was filled with thick, coloured blocks.

  Emily wailed out from the bathroom, “Turn that off!”

  Owen went to do just that. He reached the television as the blocks and ringing disappeared. The screen flickered and showed a woman with long, blonde hair, a fake nose, fake lips, fake breasts, and a frozen face. She sat on a large, decorative sofa with lush wallpaper behind her and a thick, cream carpet under her. And that was it. The rest of the screen was sparse. Then she started talking in a high pitched, energetic voice.

  “Good afternoon, everyone. As you know, it’s twelve o’clock so it’s time for our little get together.”

  “I recognise her.” mumbled a sleepy Lucy.

  “Me too.” said Owen as he backed away from the television and sat back in his spot, “Can’t think where, though.”

  Cameron pulled himself along the floor and sat at the foot of the bed.

  “I know I don’t need to introduce myself, but I heard that we had some new arrivals last night, forty-three of them, so I will, just in case they are so confused by this awful time that they have forgotten me. I’m Lucy Crawford -”