by Alex South
“Where’s Poppy?” Laura said again.
Duke slipped past the man and entered the hallway. The man stared at Duke as he left, then back at the group.
Chapter 3
Duke arrived in the corner of a large rectangular living room. Wooden floors soaked up the diffused brightness from the spherical lampshade in the middle of the ceiling. Accompanying this were several wall lights — throwing themselves upwards, creating cones of brightness on the orange paint. There was a single window, but it had been boarded up. Only small fragments of the outside world squeezed through its edges.
For a second, Duke thought he had come the wrong way. Then, he saw another door in the opposite corner. Crossing the room diagonally, he found that it was indeed the kitchen. He entered. Moving around the marked wooden table that held the centre of the room, he approached the magnetic knife rack on the wall, now pulling the first one down and testing its sharpness with his finger.
He knew that this made sense. He had to take this opportunity. If he could kill her, then maybe this would all end. There was no way to avoid it; his responsibility was clear. Yet his insides squirmed, as if to twist away from the choices he was making.
“Duke, you can’t go,” he heard Jess say behind him. Frustration prickled under his skin. She could never see beyond the obvious.
“I get it, Jess. But I have to,” he said.
He felt her grab his arm, “But… why?” He didn’t look at her.
“Duke, you have to listen to us.” He recognised the voice behind him as Elena’s. “And if you still want to, we could go with you.”
Duke chose a knife, turned and tucked it into his belt. For the first time he saw that the man was in the kitchen, hovering awkwardly at the edge of the room – looking extremely worried. “All right,” Duke said, addressing Elena as he moved his jumper to hide the hilt, “you’ve got thirty seconds.”
Elena’s brow creased. Her eye’s wide in appeal. “I don’t think she is causing it. Her zombies are not like the rest of the zombies. They were sleeping and they didn’t bite. But the rest of them are not like that. All the zombies normally bite and don’t sleep. So, I don’t know how you think she is controlling them.”
“She controls them. She’s… she’s a part of it,” Duke said.
“What do you think will happen? What do you think? That you stab her and all the zombies can drop dead?” said Elena.
“Yeah.”
“How? How can they?”
“I don’t know how.” His eyes flicked towards the doorway. “I gotta try,”
“She isn’t keeping them alive. She’s controlling them only.”
“You don’t know that. She’s… the queen, you know… it’s a hive.”
“No, no, no,” Elena shook her head, “that’s not true. No, no, no.”
“Listen, if I don’t come back, I’m sorry and God bless.”
Elena moved closer to Duke and tried to take both his hands. Duke avoided her grip and moved towards the door. Jess remained wrapped round his arm.
“Jess, get off!” said Duke.
“Don’t go. Don’t go. You’ll die!” Jess shouted.
“Get off! Jess!” he wrestled her off him, accidently knocking her to the floor.
Chapter 4
John was aware of the fight happening in the kitchen, but was more focused on Laura. She was lying on the sofa, with John kneeling by her side — her pulled-up t-shirt revealed an ugly mix of dark brown and red.
Dreadlocks stood a little way back, roughly in the centre of the room — whilst the man was almost as far away as he could be. He still hadn’t said a word. Duke marched through the room, followed by Elena and Jess.
“Laura, I really think we should disinfect it,” said Dreadlocks.
“I said ‘no’!” Laura shouted, “Don’t touch it! It’s stopped, all right? Just leave it. Leave it.”
At that moment, John heard Duke shouting from the corridor, “Get off me! Jess… for fuck’s sake.” There was shouting and screaming, and then the sound of a front door being slammed. With a slight wave of shock, John realised that Duke was really going to do it.
“I’m going after him,” said Dreadlocks, running to the front door. John heard it open and close again.
Laura’s head was on the arm of the sofa. “Don’t go after him. Stay here.”
“I’m staying here,” John reassured her. Elena and Jess came into the room from the hallway. Jess was crying. A long moment passed in which no one said anything.
“I’m going to be all right,” said Laura quietly. “I need to stay still, that’s it. I’m going to be all right.” She took a slow breath. “I’m going to be all right.”
“Are you warm enough?” said John, “Do you need anything?”
“No, turn the heating on?” she said, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling.
“Hey, can you turn on the heating?” said John to the man.
There was a silence. They all waited for a reply that never came. The man only stared at his shoes.
“Hey, can you turn on the heating?” said John.
“It’s broken,” said the man finally.
“Who else is here?” said Laura.
“No one.” Grunted the man.
“No?” The disappointment was clear in her voice. “Was there ever?”
“A woman was here. She’s gone,” he said flatly.
“What was her name?”
“Poppy.”
“Poppy! Is she okay?” said Laura.
“I don’t know.”
“Why did she leave?” said Laura.
“There’s no food,” said the man. “…er, I’m going in the other room…” He continued, walking past them and into the kitchen. Some inner voice told John that this was meaningful. That food was something he had to think about.
“There’s a hot water bottle. She keeps it in the top room, John,” said Laura, taking him back into the moment.
“Okay.” He stood up.
“But it’s a cat, it’s, like, a hot water bottle inside a cat.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s in the top room, the attic room. It should be. In one of the draws under the bed.”
John left, running up the stairs, to the landing. He scanned the area. There were two narrow corridors and several doors, one of which was raised higher than the others, as if it was on a step. He ran and opened it, taking another set of stairs - which opened up to a large, attic room. Hanging tapestries, soft paint, and warm, wooden furniture gave the room a comforting aesthetic. Yet, this was disrupted by the many unwashed dishes that covered the room’s flat spaces, along with the grotty, sharp smell that stung John’s nostrils. He found the cat — a cute, ginger smiling thing — and ran back down to the ground floor, arriving back with the others.
The man was still in the kitchen. Jess was standing by herself, still sobbing. On the arm of Laura’s sofa sat Elena. She had wide eyes and a pale complexion. Her body was poised, alert.
“Found it,” he said, glancing at Laura and now cautiously moving into the kitchen. All of him was focused on one thing, getting Laura warm. The man was on the other side — back turned. John moved around the table in the centre of the room, and drew closer. He could hear the sound of a kettle, and knew it must be what the man was standing in front of.
“Hey… I need to fill this,” said John
The man turned around quickly and looked at the hot water bottle, “You went in my room.”
“Can you add more hot water?”
The man looked at the kettle, picked it up, glanced at John, put it back down, and started rubbing his fingers together, as if not sure what to do with them.
“It’s full,” said the man. John did not understand the cause of his awkwardness, and did not try to.
“All right,” he said, trying not to fluster him further. He waited for what seemed an eternity as they both stared at the kettle. Eventually it was ready.
“You use it now,” said the m
an. John moved to it and began to fill the bottle. Now he took it back to the room and put it under the duvet with Laura.
The man came out of the kitchen holding a mug and crossed the room to stand close to the door leading into the hallway. This created a strange separation of space, with everyone close to Laura, and him on the opposite side of the room.
“Where did Poppy go?” said Laura.
“I don’t know.”
“She must have said something.”
“No.”
Chapter 5
Duke could see the trees from here. He would pass through them. He would come out the other side. He would be at the park. Then, he would fight her.
“Duke, wait!”
Duke turned and saw Dreadlocks running across the grass towards him.
“You going to help me?” Duke said as he caught up.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m gonna stab her.”
“Okay…”
“That’s it,” Duke said, realising that Dreadlocks was waiting for more.
“Can I come with you?”
Duke stared at him for a while, now patting him on the shoulder, “Yeah… Yeah, I need you.”
Dreadlocks nodded slowly. “Okay, friend. But I want you to know, I don’t think it’s the right idea. Okay?”
“Then, don’t come,” Duke said.
“No, I want to come.”
“All right. So come on.”
…
“I’ve been eating zombies,” the man said.
No one responded. It was as if idea was constantly swelling so that no one could quite get hold of it. There had been a silence in the room, and then he had blurted it out.
“What?” said John.
“I’ve been eating zombies. I’m telling you because you might want to know,” said the man.
“Isn’t that… isn’t that going to infect you?” said Elena.
“Yes, but I had to.” said the man, his right hand moved across his body to hold his other arm.
There was a long silence.
“That’s… a big deal,” said John no longer looking at Laura. The man nodded — seemingly not seeing a reason to say anything else.
“So, um-” John began.
“But.” The man paused for a second. “Food poisoning takes seventy-two hours or less. If I don’t get ill soon, I won’t be ill.”
“But it’s more usual to be faster. If someone is bitten, they turn into it straight away, or in a few hours,” said Elena.
“Yes.”
“So, do you think you’re more safer?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“When did you eat it?” said Elena.
“Does anyone want a cup of tea?” The man interrupted.
“Um… no,” said John.
“Okay,” said the man getting up leaving.
John watched the man through the kitchen doorway. His head was swimming. He needed to rest, to just be with Laura and hold her. Should he have gone after Duke?
…
Doubts were swimming in Duke’s head. What if killing her didn’t do anything? What if he couldn’t get close to her?
He frantically grasped for the right tactics. How would he get past her zombies? Would they be standing? He had an image of them biting him before he got close. If he called her name, would she let him through?
What about the sweets? He could call out that he had her sweets. But they might still bite him. She would still get her sweets, even if he didn’t give them to her as a human. What about Dreadlocks? What would his role be?
His movement became his clarity. Each footstep was a decision, a commitment, and, above all, an anger, and this anger tore down the doubts, the impossibilities, it showed him a way to keep moving. It showed him a belief that came not from odds or statistics, but from something more immediate, more powerful. His anger showed him he could do it. It was a self-creating success. And the only way he could fail was to let this conviction slip.
…
“Do I look all right?” Laura asked suddenly, a slight shudder in her voice.
John looked at her pale face. “Yeah, you look okay,” he lied.
“I feel weird.”
“What kind of weird?”
“I don’t know. I just… I just feel weird. And it really hurts. What if I’m dying?”
“You’re not… you’re going to be fine. You look fine.”
“Yeah…” said Laura. John could see Laura was convincing herself; it was something about the way her eyes stared into the distance. “Yeah,” she said again, “it’s just a bit of metal, it’s not, like, a bullet.”
John nodded, “You’re going to be fine.”
…
Duke came to the trees. They stood tall around him, silent witnesses to the madness.
Again his mind churned over the possibilities. What else could she do? Did her psychic control extend beyond zombies? Could she read his thoughts? Each moment seemed to rush away behind him, like he was in a tunnel, hurtling towards some sort of light, some sort of ultimate finish.
A brief possibility flickered in his head – this could be history in real time. All humanity would come to speak of this moment. And here he was, inside it, living it.
Now he came to the edge of the wood. He could catch glimpses of the park, filtering in between the trees. As he got closer, he realised that the field was empty. No zombies. No girl.
Where has she gone? Duke thought.
Chapter 6
John felt like a stranger in his body.
Waves of arbitrary emotion rushed forward. Anger — a bitter, clenching hatred. Horror — mental images of Dan’s splattered brains, or the endless sea of infected faces. Even gratitude — he was in here; he could steal some moments of safety. Guilt — for being part of this world. Guilt at being an observer, a participant, a component, guilt for simply being, when this was what being meant.
These emotions flared up, all of them so overwhelming that it seemed impossible that he could ever lose them or that he had ever not had them. Then they were gone and the hollowness returned, as if his mind was trying to find something that fit.
There was a pain in the back of John’s throat. It seemed to stick there.
“I’m going downstairs,” the man said, abruptly taking John out of his thoughts. There was a pause before he spoke again. “When I come up the stairs, I will have a piece of zombie.”
No one said anything. The man nodded at the floor and left. Jess put her head in her hand. “I can’t… I can’t”
“Is he going to bring it here?” said Elena.
“Yeah, of course he is. He’s going to take it into the kitchen,” said Jess.
Elena shook her head. “No, I don’t want to be near it.” She stood up. “I’m going to go, no?”
“Where?” said John.
“Into another room. Come with me.”
“I’ve got to keep an eye on Laura,” said John.
“So… is someone going to come? I cannot be only me.” said Elena.
“I’ll come,” said Jess.
She stood up and they both left.
“We should stay together,” said Laura to John.
“Umm… oh…” said John.
“It’s fine just… watch out…”
“Okay,” John stood up, walked across the room and lent against the wall, allowing himself a clear view into the hallway.
A few minutes later they heard the sound of a circular saw.
They both remained silent until the man returned. He held a pan in his hand. John caught a glimpse of some red lump within it, but tried not to look. The man took it into the kitchen. John sat on the arm of Laura’s sofa.
‘Knock. Knock.’
The sound seemed to enter John somehow, and, at first, his body was taken by panic– as if the noise represented some kind of threat.
“Hey!” It was a muffled shout. John recognised it as Duke.
“Duke!” John heard Jess shout. Next ca
me the sound of the front door being opened. A few seconds later, Jess entered the room with Duke and Dreadlocks behind her. Everyone spoke at once, asking them questions.
“I couldn’t find her,” said Duke. “She was gone.”
Chapter 7
Dreadlocks, Jess and Elena were crying. The others were not.
“Why did you leave?” said the man – who they now knew was called Rob. As he spoke he looked only at the floor near Duke’s feet.
His words had broken the quiet – a quiet that seemed to reflect an unspoken agreement. Everyone needed time. Everyone needed to sit still, say very little, and stare at nothingness.
The emptiness of their shared space had been a choice, a necessity, and an inevitability. Rob’s question seemed like a betrayal to this, a coarse refusal to let them stay hidden in their wordless void.
Duke did not register the question at first, “Me?” he suddenly said, as if he had been jerked out a dream.
Rob nodded.
“There was this girl…”
Rob frowned. “Who was she?”
“Um… she’s… she’s a girl, but… she has… an effect… on the zombies.”
“What effect?”
Duke let out a long breath and rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know.”
“You have to know,” said Rob.
“She was controlling them. She was… she got them… they caught us. These zombies caught us, but they didn’t hurt us; they carried us to her and it was like they were working for her.”
The silence returned for a while.
“That’s not possible,” said Rob.
Duke shook his head and shrugged weakly.
“Why did you leave?” said Rob.
“What?” said Duke.
“Why did you leave?”
“The girl?” said Duke.
“No, here.”
“To find her,” said Duke.
“Why?”
“To kill her.”
It was clear from Rob’s face that he didn’t fully understand.
“Are you going to try again?” said Rob.
