by Ryan Colley
“Everything okay, hun?” Tracey asked when Gary sat opposite her without saying a word.
“I guess so …” Gary stared at his knuckles, massaging them. Something he did when deep in thought.
“Gary,” Tracey replied sternly. He would feel much better once he started talking.
“I … with Sam. No,” Gary began, trying to compose his thoughts into a logical sentence. “This may sound crazy, but does Sam sometimes seem like two different people?”
“Go on,” Tracey didn’t know where he was going with it.
“He’s very hopeful and determined, strong-willed, a bit rough around the edges. He swears a lot. All that, I like that about him. It’s like he brings hope with him. He’s a genuinely likeable guy. Now, the Sam sat in that other room is not the same Sam we’ve had at our dinner table. He’s obsessive, distant, and vacant. He’s still just as determined, but … I don’t know,” Gary said, trying to explain what he briefly saw in Sam moments earlier. He looked at Tracey, who was staring at him. He sighed and smiled, “I’m not saying I don’t like the guy, it just feels hard to trust him at times. Like, he’s suffering inside. I’m just tired, ignore me.”
“Gary, I agree with you. I’ve seen something in Sam I haven’t been able to explain,” Tracey stroked Gary’s hand. “I’ve always trusted your instincts, and I don’t want you to think I’m belittling them, but he has his reasons. Think of the things he’s seen out there. The things he’s probably had to do. Added with, he’s on a fool’s quest. He’s chasing after a girl who, from what he said, is more than likely dead. H’s only lying to himself. If anyone is entitled to disappear to a dark place every so often, I think he is. He isn’t a threat. He’s just lost.”
“You’re probably right,” Gary leaned back, rubbing his eyes. He smiled at Tracey again, “You’re always right. I just wish he wouldn’t talk to himself so much.”
“He deals in his own way, and that old teddy he has with him is the only one who’ll truly listen. I understand it, I really do. It doesn’t make it any less strange, but it’s harmless,” Tracey shrugged.
She had seen people deal with loss in a lot more destructive ways than how Sam was. Besides, there were more pressing concerns than the coping mechanism of some young man. Supplies were slowly running out. Something needed to be done.
****
Sam
The quiet moment alone gave me the chance to reflect on the couple whose home I was in. As anyone who knows me will say I always see the worst in people. I’ve always thought that the worst tended to find me because of my attitude. Yet in all the chaos of the world outside, I had managed to find the one bastion of good. The two who had taken me in were just plain good people. That amazed me.
I thought about what I would have done in their situation. Certainly wouldn’t have done the same. Not only would I not have let someone into my home and place of safety, I wouldn’t have even let them know of my existence. Hell, I would’ve pilfered their corpse for supplies the first chance I had. Somehow though, I still wouldn’t class myself as a bad person. I was just trying to survive. Surely everyone would be like that? But sitting in the next room was a couple who had risked everything to help a stranger, in the most altruistic move I’d ever seen. Perhaps it was the veil of pain medication, but their very simple act shook what I believed about human behaviour.
I don’t know how much time had passed, but I found myself smiling at my self-punishing and revelatory thought pattern. I looked down at the radio in hand and decided it was time to see what was happening in the outside world.
“I’m feeling lucky,” I spun the tuning dial to a random frequency.
Over the weeks I was stuck recovering, I listened to radio broadcasts. There were a few recurring folks I enjoyed listening to. Not because they were funny or smart or anything necessarily, but because they were living. They breathed life, with their inane and everyday conversations, into a dead world. It was beautiful.
There were plenty of radio broadcasts, mostly live ones of people communicating. There were, of course, a few repeated radio broadcasts, too. There was the usual military safe zone nonsense, which was redundant. A BBC message for people to stay in their homes. Also the ramblings of a madman leading a cult, naturally. Listening to the same people, I felt as though I knew personally. I felt like I was their friend, not in an obsessive way, but when you hear so much about someone’s life, you can’t help but feel like you know them.
A news reader called Tony would tune in every other day. He seemed conspiratorial with his statements while also providing news reports about happenings around the UK – something the government and mainstream media had long since stopped doing. He was annoying, yet something drew me back to listening to him. He reminded me of Bill Cooper. One broadcast really stood out amongst all his other rubbish. Some of the broadcasts I heard weren’t even in English, but the language barrier didn’t stop their fear and sadness from coming across.
I listened to everyone I came across, for that piece of connection. With time, I heard that people I considered friends disappear, and knowing I would never hear them again hurt me. I missed them. I never knew what they looked like, but I knew them.
Broadcast One: Shaun, Frank, and Barbara 1
Shaun: Every day I wake up and can’t believe there are fricking zombies! Who else is with me on this one?
Frank: These clearly aren’t zombies, you idiot. These are something else.
Shaun: Of course they’re zombies! They rise from the dead and eat the flesh of the living. About as zombie as you can get.
Frank: Oh, you’re one of those, aren’t you? How old are you? Fifteen?
Shaun: Seventeen, actually. What do you mean, one of those?
Frank: You’ve never experienced any of the classic zombie films, have you? You’re one of those post-nineties zombie lovers.
Shaun: Anything before 2000 isn’t worth watching. Besides, I’m living the Z-apocalypse now!
Frank: These aren’t goddamn zombies! Zombies only go for the brain. Where do you think the classic line braaaaains came from? These eat everything. Flesh, brain, sinew. These would be classed as infected since we’re using movie terms.
Shaun: Grow with the times, man. Zombies changed and so should you.
Barbara: For God’s sake. The goddamn apocalypse is happening outside and you’re arguing pedantics.
Frank: It’s semantics.
Barbara: What?
Frank: We’re arguing semantics, not pedantics. Besides, arguing semantics is stupid. It’s like beating a child at an IQ test. Sure, you look smarter, but you’re also an asshole.
Shaun: Ha-ha. You tell her, dude!
Barbara: The hell? You’re lucky I don’t know where you live.
Frank: Here’s a hint. It’s the only house in the Southend with the door still closed. Besides, with the lovely voice you have, you sound like a very attractive lady. I look forward to seeing you.
Barbara: You’re hilarious Frank. I really hope you don’t get eaten.
CHAPTER 20
Gary
It was about 3:00 a.m. when Gary awoke to the sound of a hushed argument. He immediately thought of Sam and Tracey. Had Sam gone over the edge? He groggily felt the bed to find Tracey still in it. That was odd. It was then that Gary remembered Tracey’s statement about Sam’s way of coping. He considered going back to sleep, but curiosity was getting the better of him and he wanted to investigate the situation. It wasn’t the first time one of them had been awakened by Sam in the night, whether from radio static, which Sam seemed to enjoy, or him pacing around the building. But it was the first time one of them had awakened to Sam arguing.
Gary got out of bed, pulled on some joggers, and crept along to investigate. He’d been there long enough to know when and where the floor creaked and avoided those areas even though he was blind in the darkness. When he approached Sam’s room, the door was ajar and the bedside lamp was on, illuminating Sam.
“I don’t blame myself
,” Sam hissed, pointing at the teddy he took everywhere. “No. You’re wrong. He died because of him. Yes, I know I had a part in it, but he was my friend. That wasn’t my fault either. I’m gonna keep looking and return you to her. Of course I’m capable.”
Poor kid, Gary thought. Sam seemed so broken. He was having a conversation with a stuffed animal. He wondered if Sam even realised he was doing it. He turned away, shaking his head. Sam was maybe a threat to himself, but not to anyone else.
Gary climbed back into bed, no longer weary from being awakened.
“Everything okay?” Tracey yawned, rolling over to look at Gary.
“Yeah,” Gary nodded. “Just … just went for a pee.”
“Okay, hun,” Tracey rolled back over. “Sam okay?”
He looked at Tracey, who had already fallen back to sleep. “No, I don’t think so.”
Gary laid back, listening to the gentle snoring of his wife and the wild ranting of Sam. He hated being left alone at night, with his thoughts. The eerie whispers of doubt started to worm their way to the surface. What were they going to do about food? What about water? Those things wouldn’t last forever. Sam was right. People weren’t coming to save them. Plus, there was the other issue. They needed to think about leaving.
****
Sam
I had a vague sense that someone was watching me. My skin crawled and hairs stood on end. I turned to my door, which had been left ajar. Was that me? There wasn’t anyone there. My adrenaline peaked and dropped in the same second. Zombies don’t sneak about, and the only other thing it could’ve been was Gary and Tracey, and they weren’t any threat. I relaxed and turned back to my room, confused. What time was it? Why was I still up? I felt exhausted.
I looked around and saw Thundy sitting on a chair, facing the bed.
“Well, that’s creepy,” I didn’t remember putting him there, and I was certain he hadn’t sat himself there. I bent to the stuffed animal’s eye level and whispered, “Thundy, level with me, you’re not secretly alive are you?”
Thundy continued to sit there, as inanimate as ever. He was a really good actor if he was alive. I laughed again. There I was, talking to a stuffed animal, in the middle of the night.
“Get a grip,” I slapped my face. I was definitely awake. “Screw it.”
I climbed into bed. My body felt as though it had run miles. I checked my leg, as I did every night before sleeping. The wound was healing well. I could probably take the stitching out soon. But my leg still ached and I couldn’t overdo it or risk re-injury. I marvelled at how I had survived a bad leg injury and a bite from a zombie on the same leg. Best case scenario, I expected to lose the leg if I ever wanted to live. Worst case scenario would’ve been death. I had transcended that and come out the other side with both legs intact and wiser from the experience. How wrong all the zombie media had been after countless films, books, and games. I laughed. Things may have been bad, but they could’ve been worse.
CHAPTER 21
Another day passed, and another, and nothing had occurred. I had listened to the radio most of the days and was surprised by the amount of activity out there. It was like listening to a radio play, which made it easy to forget the end of the world was outside. I was happy but impatient. Wanted to leave but knew I couldn’t. And as the time passed, Gary became tenser. He would skip meals and drinks. He even started to forgo his morning cup of tea. I didn’t take much notice at first, but when Tracey asked for a private conversation with me while Gary slept, it became apparent.
“Hi, Sam, do you mind me having a quick word?” Tracey stuck her head through the door, in the early hours.
“Not at all,” I lied. She couldn’t have come at a worst time. I was still in bed and pitching a tent.
She came over and sat on the end of the bed. “I’m worried about Gary …”
I sat up. “How so? Is everything okay?”
“He … hasn’t been right. He spends hours writing down notes and hiding them from me. He’s been skipping meals. I’ve never known him to skip a meal,” Tracey added with concern.
“Do you think it’s because of me?” I said. Was I the one putting strain on their relationship?
“Not at all! Gary has taken a shine to you,” Tracey explained. The old Samuel charm.
“So what do you think it is, then?” I asked her directly.
“I don’t know, but I think you might be able to help,” Tracey continued mysteriously. Inwardly, I sighed. I hated being asked favours of, no matter how much I owed them.
“What can I do?” I smiled.
“Just talk to him. Whatever’s bothering him, he isn’t telling me to keep me from worrying, but I think he may tell you. You’re both men. Do something manly together or something,” Tracey said, clearly grasping at straws.
“Of course. I’ll try my best,” I patted her on the back. “I’ll be as subtle as possible.”
I felt so awkward. She thanked me and left. I laid there for a few moments, thinking about what I could do that would be classed as manly. I’m pretty sure playing video games while drunk wouldn’t constitute as something manly for Gary or Tracey. Time to leave my comfort zone and think of something else. First things first, I would just try to talk to him. That normally worked.
An hour passed, and in that time I did the three S’s – shi … sit on the toilet, shave, and shower. I was in my oversized boiler suit and ready for action. Sam would solve the mystery of the depressed Gary, unless that was the reason – depression. I couldn’t fix depression. No one could. A manly talk and a cup of tea wouldn’t fix it.
I went hunting for Gary, which wasn’t hard when we were confined to a single building. Gary stood, staring out of the window. He didn’t appear to be looking at anything in particular, just at the massive expanse beyond. I approached him from behind.
“Gary,” he didn’t reply, so I said his name again. “Gary!”
“Hmm?” he finally replied, snapping back to reality. “What’s up?”
“Well, we need a chat,” I said, as diplomatically as possible.
“What about?” he finally asked.
“Can we just sit and chat. My leg is killing me, and I wonder if you could take a look at it, please,” I lied poorly. He nodded, and I limped more exaggeratedly than I needed to, towards the sofa. I pulled my boiler suit leg up and exposed the wound. Gary twisted my leg back and forth, inspecting the healing wound closely.
“There’s some minor swelling,” he murmured to himself, then looked up with a smile. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Cheers,” I smiled also. Now to broach a subject I wasn’t equipped for. “Look, I may as well just come right out with it. Tracey is worried about you. She thinks there’s something up.”
“She was always a worrier,” Gary stood up. I grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.
“Maybe so,” I shrugged, “but I’ve noticed it as well. Lack of eating, lack of drinking. Other things as well. Look, I’m not an expert on this, but if you’re feeling low, like there’s no way to continue, then that’s okay. It’s a normal feeling. Depression isn’t anything to be ashamed of. Hell, a couple of years back I was–”
“I’m not depressed,” Gary interrupted sourly.
I persisted. “That’s fair enough if you think that. But, and be truthful, do you ever find it difficult to find a reason to get up in the morning? I’m not saying you would want to end it, but–”
“We’re running out of food,” he held up his hands to silence me.
“How?” I had seen the massive amounts of food they had. We couldn’t have burned through it already.
“Come and look,” Gary led me to their stock room.
It was filled with stacks of cardboard boxes, a chest freezer, and a huge fridge.
“I don’t see the problem,” I looked at the large amount of potential food.
“Perishables are mostly gone,” he opened the fridge to show that it was almost empty. “The freezer is about half full. What can I say
? We didn’t ration very well.”
“And the boxes?” I nodded to the stacks of them.
“Mostly empty. I’ve been rotating them bit by bit so Tracey wouldn’t notice,” Gary explained. “And there’s something else.”
“What?” I asked, trying to grasp how dire the situation truly was.
“We’ve had rats. I don’t know if it’s because of those things outside driving them inside, but I found droppings in a lot of the boxes. Some packaging was chewed clean through. Others looked damaged, and I couldn’t tell if the rats had been at them,” Gary explained sadly. He then pulled the chest freezer out to show me a hole behind it, next to the plug socket. “Lousy electrical fittings is where they got in. I filled it with foam and we haven’t had an issue since. The food, though … I had to get rid of it.”
“So,” I ran my hand through my hair, “how much longer do you think we can stay here?”
“I don’t know,” Gary shook his head. “By my estimation, another two or three weeks if we ration well.”
I had a sudden revelation about the situation, “That’s why you haven’t been eating, isn’t it?”
Gary nodded.
“Damn, man, you do realise you’re gonna be too weak to help anyone if you need to. You’re not doing us any favours by skipping meals,” I replied angrily. “We need to make a plan. We can discuss it over dinner tonight.”
He smiled. “Just don’t mention it to Tracey in the meantime. Okay?”
“Sure, man,” I nodded, leaving Gary with his thoughts. It was clearly a huge weight lifted from his shoulders, one I wasn’t so keen to share.
I needed time to prepare myself mentally and physically. I was angry at Gary, probably more than I should’ve been. He was trying to protect Tracey from being scared and worried. But in doing so, he had endangered her, himself, and me. How much longer would he have kept us in the boathouse while he slowly starved to death? And sure, he was trying to protect her, but Tracey was a strong person. She could deal with adversity. Hell, she probably kept Gary together after his Mama died. It could all wait until that night, anyway. We would sort something out.
