Phil gently lifted baby Gaby from her crib and placed her in a Moses basket then carried her to Sophie’s bedroom.
He looked over to Sophie, who was snuggling Teddy and doing a brilliant job at pretending to be asleep. Becky had told him how Gaby had been an angel and slept soundly but she was soon due a feed and he wanted to clean the bathroom first to save his wooden flooring.
Sophie heard her bedroom door close and marginally opened her eyes. All clear. Daddy hadn’t noticed she was pretending to be asleep and she could once again tend to Teddy who was still unwell.
After cleaning the bathroom the best he could, he gave Gaby her feed then prepared breakfast for Sophie. With Becky sick it would be just him and the children, something he wasn’t looking forward to and with no sleep, he wasn’t sure how he was going to cope.
Thankfully, Gaby had gone straight back to sleep after her feed and he afforded himself a few minutes shut eye at the kitchen table. It may have been longer had Sophie not appeared through the doorway.
“Morning Daddy, is it time for breakfast?” Sophie asked, clutching Teddy closely as she walked into the kitchen, sitting opposite her father at the table.
He jolted from his snooze and smiled at Sophie lovingly before pouring milk on her Coco Pops.
“Is mummy ok?” Sophie asked, tucking into her cereal.
“She’s ok sweetheart. Mummy’s just a little poorly that’s all,” he replied.
“Teddy’s poorly too. Do you know what he said would make him better? If we could go and feed the duckies after breakfast,” said Sophie.
As tired as he was, Phil thought this to be a good idea. It would clear his head and give Becky some much needed peace and quiet.
“Well if Teddy thinks it will make him better, then we better do as he says hadn’t we? Eat your breakfast and get yourself dressed, then we’ll go and feed the ducks,” he replied.
The cold air was a relief to Phil’s tired face as he pushed Gaby in her pram along Mersey Road, heading towards the grass embankment that overlooked the Manchester Ship Canal and the River Mersey. This was home to many wild ducks and geese and Sophie loved feeding them, especially the geese, as they would surround her and take pieces of bread directly from her hands.
Geese, ducks… they were all duckies to Sophie and she skipped alongside her father, Teddy in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other.
It had been a strange early morning walk. For a Monday morning and closing in on 8am, Phil had expected to see more traffic. Instead there was nothing. The only cars he had noticed were parked, albeit erratically. He had barely seen a soul either. He had thought he’d seen the occasional person but they were always at a distance and it was too hard to tell. There had been nobody else though, until now.
Phil slowed down and took Sophie by the arm to prevent her from walking onward. Ahead in the road, in the small parking area that looked over the embankment of the Manchester Ship Canal and River Mersey, was a crowd of ducks and geese. They were fighting each other over whatever was in the middle of the huddle they had formed. Aggressive quacks echoed along the empty street and feathers flew into the air.
“They look hungry Daddy,” said Sophie innocently.
“Yes they do don’t they?” he replied. “Can you do me a big favour sweetheart and just wait here and look after your little sister? I’ll be right back.”
He cautiously walked towards the duck and geese gathering. Curiosity had gotten the better of him and he wanted to know what was in the centre of the feathered mosh pit, causing them to act so wildly.
As he got closer, he at first noticed a trainer and then an exposed leg, frozen and pale blue in colour. It was an adult body, male and by the frost covered skin, it had been there for some time. The ducks and geese were pecking away at the man, ripping flesh and covering the body in bloodied lesions and welts.
Phil puked instantly. The retching noise that accompanied his vomiting drew the attention of the smaller ducks that were having little luck pecking the body due to the larger geese bullying their way to the front.
The ducks started to waddle towards him, quacking and rustling their feathers feverishly.
The closest of the ducks, flapped its wings and started to fly just above ground level, directly at Phil, who swatted it away with his hands as it approached. The duck tumbled across the road then quickly got to its feet and waddled back to him, quacking like a creature possessed. He wasn’t messing about this time and booted the duck hard in its chest, propelling it down the embankment towards the canal.
One by one the crazed ducks came and one by one he took them out. Kicks, punches, shoves and throws. Phil did whatever was needed to keep the feathered crazies away from him and more importantly his daughters. Sophie held on to Teddy, confused and terrified at the scene in front of her.
With all the ducks disposed of, only geese remained and unluckily for Phil, their interest in the frozen flesh pecked man was fading. Fresh meat awaited and they were eager for a taste.
He turned and ran toward Gaby and Sophie who was visibly distressed, hugging Teddy with tears rolling down her cheeks.
Phil, although no slouch, was unfortunately not as quick on his feet as he so desperately would have liked and Sophie’s cries quickly turned to screams when three of the faster geese caught him up and began pecking at his legs rabidly.
Trying to both run and kick away the geese, he lost his footing and fell heavily to the floor, twisting his left ankle.
He scratted frantically, pushing and throwing as many geese as he could but his efforts were futile. There were simply too many and they quickly overpowered him, ripping through his clothes as they brutally pecked away at his body.
“Sophie run, take Gaby and run!” he screamed, now completely surrounded by frenzied feathered geese.
Sophie closed her eyes tightly, buried her head into Teddy and covered her ears with her arms. She was doing everything possible to ignore what was happening. Gaby on the other hand slept through her father’s screams and her sister’s cries, oblivious to any danger.
The geese were relentless in their attack, quickly stripping the skin and pecking away at the fatty tissue beneath. Phil’s death was quick but agonising. Agonising not only for him, but for his daughter Sophie who in spite of her efforts, could not block out her father’s screams. Even after his violent death, she could still hear the painful and torturous yells reverberating around her head.
Then another high pitched scream penetrated her ears. Gaby was awake and her cries had alerted the once white but now blood stained geese to their presence.
The geese had enjoyed their main and now it was time for dessert but before they could decide which sister they wanted to eat, a tall man with black hair and a long black leather coat appeared, as if from nowhere, wielding an elderly persons wooden walking stick and with it, began to smash and crush the flesh eating birds.
The man made short work of the geese, quickly killing them with the stick. He then walked to Gaby who was still crying in her pram and took her in his arms, gently rocking her in the hope she would settle.
“What’s your name little one?” the man asked of Sophie.
“My dad told me never to talk to strangers,” a teary eyed Sophie replied.
“Your dad’s a wise man. My name is Nick so now you know who I am and we’re not strangers anymore ok?” Nick said softly.
“Ok,” Sophie replied. “My name is Sophie and that’s Gaby. Those duckies they… what did they do to my Dad?”
“Sophie, I need you to listen closely. It’s not safe on the streets anymore. I need both you and your sister to come with me. I can keep you safe. Do you see that big building just behind you?” Nick said, pointing to Churchill Mansions, a high rise tower block overlooking Mersey Road. “That’s where I want to take you. I promise it’s safe in there and no more bad things will happen ok? Once inside, I will do what I can for your dad.”
Sophie nodded and walked with the man who knew well enough that Ph
il was dead, he had seen the attack from a balcony on the top floor of Churchill Mansions and had struggled deeply with the decision to help or not.
“Can you take us home? I want my mummy and she is very poorly, like Teddy,” Sophie asked showing Nick her teddy bear.
“Let’s just get you and your sister inside where it’s safe first then we’ll talk about your mum,” Nick said, knowing very well that ‘very poorly’ meant the odds of her still being alive were slim at best.
Sophie followed Nick towards Churchill Mansions and the promise of safety, only stalling briefly to consider looking back towards her fallen father. She would have looked too, if it wasn’t for Teddy, who didn’t think it a good idea.
Journal Entry 4
Full of adrenalin (it’s the best painkiller) and with battle paddle in hand, I was ready to go. The staff room of the Grange Comprehensive School was no longer a safe haven after being compromised in an incident that cost Mr Kelly his life and we had no choice but to get out of there. Now it was time to leave but my legs were not having any of it. The pain from my back injury meant I was moving slower and more gingerly than the zombies that were occupying the playground.
“Hey Mr Diant, I reckon you could pass for a zombie with your pale complexion and the way you are walking. Maybe if you went out into the playground first, the zombies would think you are one of them and you will go unnoticed?” Jonathon said, standing in the doorway of the main entrance looking out to the playground of the dead.
“Because you’re handy with a cricket bat and saved my daughter’s life, I’m going to let that one slide but you only have a limited number of free passes kid, so use them wisely smart arse, or you’ll be getting a crack around the head with this paddle. Got it?” I replied.
If I’m honest, he was starting to grow on me but I wasn’t about to let him know that. When it’s the end of the world, you have to take your fun were you can get it. Besides, I was still struggling to get my head around my daughter having a boyfriend. Oh, and the skinny jeans. No man or boy should ever be seen wearing skinny jeans. Apocalypse or not, skinny jeans are never a good look.
There was sense in Jonathon’s comments though. Ridiculous as his idea was, the truth was we needed a plan to get past the zombies in the playground and through the gates to 80s Dave who was hopefully safe in his Thunderbird.
From our position just inside the main entrance, it was impossible to tell what lay beyond the gates. The playground was scattered with meandering zombies and there was a large gathering pressed up against the gates, trying to get to what was on the other side.
Something beyond the gate had their attention and I was hoping it was Dave. The only way to find out was for Emily, Louise, Jonathon and I to figure a way out of Hell’s Playground.
“Can somebody think of something please, before we all like get totally eaten to death?” Louise said, cowering behind Emily.
Part of the school playground doubled up as a staff car park and in it was a silver Vauxhall Corsa.
“It’s a pity none of us can drive,” I said.
“Emily can,” Jonathon interjected, which was met with a stern look from my daughter that said ‘Shut the fuck up!’
“Dad, I can explain…” Emily started before I cut her off.
“Emily, I’m not angry. Given the current situation we find ourselves in I’m prepared to let it go, for now. But just answer me this. Who taught you how to drive? It was your Uncle Butty wasn’t it?” I said to Emily who replied by nodding sheepishly.
“I knew it! That god damn survivalist nut job! I’ll kill him when I see him,” I raved.
“To be fair Dad, the reason Uncle Butty taught me how to drive was because there might be a zombie apocalypse,” Emily replied.
I’ve lost count of the amount of times Butty has started a sentence by saying “In the event of a zombie apocalypse….”
“In the event of a zombie apocalypse, there’s a crossbow under your bed.”
“In the event of a zombie apocalypse, I’ve started a vegetable garden on the roof. The dead will contaminate the ground and I am not eating a carrot grown in soil where a zombie has drooled.”
“In the event of a zombie apocalypse, I’ve been storing tins of spam since 1986.”
I could go on but I’ll spare you, for now.
Anyway, I could forgive my fifteen year old daughter knowing how to drive. Zombies, boyfriends, driving - I was just glad she was alive. Old world problems suddenly seem less important when faced with death at every turn.
“The Corsa over there belonged to Mr Kelly. As he has no use for it anymore being dead and all, one of us could go back to the staff room and grab his keys? If we could make it to the car I could drive it through the gates,” Emily suggested.
Well she was right. Simply walking across the Devil’s Playground and climbing over the gates wasn’t an option. Sure we could probably get past the scattering of zombies that were mindlessly wandering around but the large gathering at the gate? That would be too much for the four of us to handle. Well, three, no, two and a half. Louise was shaking like a shitting dog and my back injury meant most of the work would be left to Emily and Jonathon. Mr Kelly’s car was the only option.
“I’ll go,” Jonathon offered.
“Be careful,” Emily said, kissing him passionately for good luck which was an awkward moment for yours truly I can tell you!
“Don’t start clearing a pathway to the car without me. It’s too dangerous and you’ll need my help. I’ll be back before you know it,” Jonathon said before running off to the staff room.
Well, my mind was shot I don’t mind telling you. Day one of the zombie apocalypse and my daughter and her boyfriend were acting like they had been ready for this day their whole lives.
Was it violent video games, TV and movies that were responsible for desensitising the youth of today? Or in my daughter’s case, my brother! Maybe with youth on their side they were just fearless. I felt like I could take on the world when I was her age but zombies? Emily’s life up to this point had not been without its ups and downs. Never having the chance to bond with her mother must have influenced her upbringing deeply. The only adults she has ever had to look up to have been me and Butty. Now I love my brother dearly, but he is not the best role model for children. For Emily’s first birthday he bought her a Swiss Army knife and a first aid kit. Mental I tell you. Or he would have been twenty four hours a go before this town went to shit. Now he seems the sanest person alive!
“Are you ready to kill some zombies Dad?” Emily said, readying her hockey stick for action.
“So, you and Jonathon …?” I asked, thinking it best to throw the question out there and get the awkwardness out of the way sooner rather than later.
“Eight months. I’m sorry I never told you about him. It’s awkward you know? You still see me as your little girl and I didn’t want you to freak out. He’s really nice and funny too. You two should spend some time together and get to know each other when we get to Uncle Butty’s.” Emily replied.
“I wish you would have told me about him sooner and that it didn’t take the apocalypse for me to find out you have a boyfriend. But I understand why and I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t. The truth is, you’ll always be my little girl, even if the past few hours have taught me that you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. I know, I know, your Uncle Butty taught you. I won’t know whether to kill or hug him when we get to his place.” I said.
“Don’t worry Dad, I won’t keep anything from you again, I promise. Now let’s kill some zombies,” Emily smiled.
“I’ll just stay back here whilst you do the killing if it’s all the same with you,” Louise said, still cowering behind my daughter.
“Don’t worry Louise, we’ll be out of here before you know it,” Emily said, placing her arm around her friend to comfort her.
“Got them, you guys ready to move?” Jonathon said, returning with the car keys.
I looked out to Hell�
��s Playground. There must have been fifteen or so zombies bumbling around aimlessly.
Beyond the playground at the school gates obstructing our path to freedom, was roughly another twenty zombies, their hands reaching through the gates trying to get to what was on the other side which was hopefully 80s Dave.
Mr Kelly’s car was directly in front of us, 40ft away. Easy you say? Not with my dodgy back and with a bunch of flesh hungry teenagers ready to guzzle you up. Thankfully, they had yet to acknowledge our presence. Instead they just stumbled around, stopping occasionally and groaning. Typical teenagers.
“It’s hard to tell if they are dead or alive,” I said, offering a smirk to Emily who dismissed my poor attempt at a joke with a ‘tut’.
“Because all teenagers do is wander around sulking? Ha-ha good one Mr Diant,” Jonathon said.
“Kiss ass,” I replied. “We need to move slowly and quietly. Any noise is likely to alert the zombies to our presence. We should move in single file and take out the zombies only if they approach. I’ll go first.”
“Ok Dad, but there is no way you’re leading, your back isn’t up to it. It’ll be me, Jonathon then you and Louise. We stand a better chance that way.” Emily said.
Once again my daughter was right. There was no chance I could lead, not with the pain I was in.
“How many of those kids do you know?” I asked my daughter, looking out to the playground.
“None of them,” she replied, looking at her zombie school mates. “I mean, I used to know them. You see Dad, I knew who they used to be, but now I don’t know them at all. All I know is they got ill, they died and then they came back. Now they want to eat us; every single one of us. But they’ve never met the Diant family before have they Dad?”
“I’ve got to limit the amount of time you spend with your Uncle Butty,” I smiled and kissed my daughter lovingly on her forehead.
The Death in a Northern Town Trilogy (Books 1-3): Welcome To Dead Town Page 9
