The Undead | Day 25 [The Heat]

by Haywood, RR

  ‘I like ravioli,’ Nick said brightly.

  ‘You the quartermaster then?’ Frank asked, strolling over to Paula as she fished her notepad out of a pocket and produced a pen seemingly from thin air. ‘We’re down on food and fluids, and our medkits need a top up. Henry? What’s the SP on the refs front? Joint or single action?’

  ‘Combined I’d say,’ Henry said, finally turning away from staring lovingly at the shitty old town to stride over to our newly appointed quartermaster. ‘Makes sense logistically,’ he added while I still try and work out what Frank asked him.

  ‘It does,’ Paula said. ‘We’ll eat together. Okay, let me know what you need.’

  ‘I have a list,’ Henry said, producing one from a pocket. ‘But perhaps it would be easier for me to assist you. And I believe Joan is willing to help in these matters too. Many hands make light work after all.’

  ‘And the two gay dads watch on with little hearts breaking in their eyes,’ Marcy said as Paula, Joan and Henry set off on their shopping trip.

  ‘I don’t even know why you’d say that,’ I replied with much haughtiness while Clarence just flicked her the middle finger again. ‘And that pub looks like a dump.’

  ‘Dump,’ Clarence said.

  ‘Roaring fire,’ I said with a huff as Clarence tutted. ‘I mean, who does that?’

  ‘Better than internet porn,’ Marcy said.

  ‘Yeah. Why did you say that?’ Clarence asked.

  ‘I have no idea. Anyway. Fuck it, you know what. I’m going shopping too.’

  ‘Howie, don’t. You’ll upset her,’ Marcy said.

  ‘It’ll be fine! Clarence and I can do the supermarket.’

  ‘Paula loves doing the supermarket. Seriously, Howie. Don’t do it.’

  ‘We’re helping, Marcy. Many hands make light work after all… And anyway. Dave and I worked in an actual supermarket. We’re literally supermarket experts.’

  ‘What the shit?’ Paula asked a good twenty minutes later, coming to a stop to stare at the rows of trolleys and the mounds of stuff stacked in the road.

  ‘Look at that,’ I said, stepping back with a proud nod and a very sweaty face from lugging so much stuff about.

  ‘We did the supermarket,’ Clarence announced, also red-faced and sweating.

  ‘Got everything we need,’ I told her.

  ‘All sorted,’ Clarence said. ‘And we got the ravioli you asked for.’

  ‘I didn’t ask for ravioli,’ she said.

  ‘There’s a few different types actually,’ I said with my professional supermarket insider knowledge. ‘So, you’ve got your basic value ravioli range of course. But you know, ravioli has come a long way these days. I mean, look. You’ve got beef ravioli.’

  ‘Chicken ravioli,’ Clarence said, holding a can up.

  ‘Vegetarian ravioli,’ I said.

  ‘Cheese and tomato ravioli,’ Clarence added.

  ‘Four cheese ravioli.’

  ‘We even found some crab ravioli,’ Clarence said.

  ‘But that’s just the tinned section,’ I announced. ‘Then of course you’ve got the fresh range, that’s still in date too.’

  ‘You two and Nick are the only ones that eats ravioli,’ Paula told me.

  ‘Eh?’ We both said, taken aback at this news.

  ‘I made it last week. Everybody said they didn’t like it. Apart from you and Nick, but Nick would eat the contents of a bin. Jesus. And why the hell have you got an entire trolley filled with tinned hotdog sausages?’

  ‘We thought we’d have a hotdog night,’ I said.

  ‘We don’t have buns. It would just be a sausage night.’

  ‘Well. We can have a sausage night then,’ I said.

  ‘While Nick eats the ravioli,’ Clarence added.

  ‘I want the sausages,’ Nick said in alarm.

  ‘Tough. You didn’t clear the sheep,’ Clarence told him.

  ‘Where’s the water?’ Paula asked, looking from the mounds to us.

  ‘I thought we had water,’ Clarence said. ‘Nick? Where’s the water?’

  ‘Yeah, Nick. You’re the team water guy,’ I said.

  ‘What the fuck!’

  ‘What the fuck, Mr Howie!’ Dave said.

  ‘Well, at least you got the Lucozade,’ Paula said. ‘Literally all of the Lucozade,’ she added, taking in the mountain of stacked cases.

  ‘Ah, but look,’ I said with the sudden hope of recovering the situation. ‘The piece of the resistance!’ I announced.

  ‘Ta da,’ Clarence said, wagging the many, many packets of hair bands clutched in his enormous hands.

  Paula just stared at them before looking up at Clarence then over to me. ‘Firstly, it’s pièce de résistance, and secondly,’ she said, pulling a large packet of hair bands from a bag. ‘Those are for children. You got them out of the baby section. These are adult sizes. Right. Just piss off. The pair of you. Seriously. I don’t know what’s got into you two today. No. I do know. And you can pack it in. Go and sit in Reggie’s van and watch porn.’

  ‘Duh. There’s no internet,’ I replied, which I’ll admit isn’t the greatest of responses, but we got ushered and harangued, cajoled and physically pushed into Roy’s van with Clarence almost bent double while we stared about looking for somewhere to sit.

  ‘Do you like ravioli?’ Clarence asked Reginald.

  ‘No,’ he replied as the sliding door slammed open again.

  ‘Out you get,’ Paula said. ‘We need the space for the supplies. Go over there. In that shop.’

  I looked at the other gay dad as we got ushered from the van and across the street.

  Silence ensued with Clarence and I looking about at the inside of the travel agency. ‘But seriously. Why did you say internet porn?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  13

  Day Twenty-nine

  ‘Ready, big boy?’

  ‘Es.’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Heather says a few seconds later when she climbs out of the vehicle into the wall of heat and opens the boot to take the big wire cutters and sledgehammer from the back.

  Boot lid closed and they set off, side by side. Sunglasses on and looking badass.

  ‘Feels like we should be going in slow-motion,’ she says, glancing up at him. ‘Like this,’ she adds, slowing down to take bigger steps in mimicry of slow-motion.

  ‘No,’ he says, shaking his head.

  ‘What? That’s slow-motion.’

  ‘No. Wait,’ he says and walks back to the car to open the boot again then peers around to make sure she’s watching.

  He gathers himself up and stands tall with his chin thrust out then reaches up to slam the boot in a way that shows his arm muscles then sets off from the car to her. Each step longer than it should be with an imaginary soundtrack playing in both of their heads.

  ‘Okay. Yeah, that’s good,’ she says. ‘Honestly. It’s giving me goosebumps. You’re just like The Rock… Argh! Fuck off!’ she yells out as he lunges in, grinning and poking her tongue out.

  They reach the entry point and give thanks for the shade created by the high perimeter fence.

  ‘It was nice seeing them all though,’ she says, taking the wire cutters and stepping away as he sizes the doors up. He nods then swings the sledgehammer into the first toughened pane of glass.

  Entry made and they head inside to the distinctive musty smell of a place left undisturbed for nearly a month. Dust on the floor. On the counters and shelves.

  She sets off towards another set of doors only to find them locked. ‘And it was interesting hearing about Neal and how it all started,’ she calls as Paco breaks the locks. ‘Howie and his lot and me all have B, whereas you had C, but now you’ve probably also got B. Same with Marcy. She had C, now she’s a B. Or more like a double D. Or a double E. Honestly. Her boobs. I get boob envy just looking at her. Mine are okay though, aren’t they? I know they’re not that big, but they’re not like sagging or anything. They’re still perky. Are they perky?
’

  Paco stops smashing the doors in to consider this thought with great aplomb before determining, in his way of determining things, that he needs to check before he can answer such a question.

  ‘Okay,’ she says when he reaches out to cup one. Then he drops the sledgehammer and cups the other, but it’s still not right. He can’t quite tell. Her top will need to come off.

  Five minutes later and she’s bent forward with her hands braced on the countertop and her trousers around her ankles.

  ‘Oh my god… We’re fucking in a zoo…’ she gasps the words out, because they are, indeed, fucking in a zoo. ‘OH MY GOD. WE’RE FUCKING IN A ZOO!’

  A few moments later, and they stagger through the freshly broken-down doors leading from the customer entrance into the main central area of the zoo. Red-faced and rubbery of leg with sweat rolling down their faces that gets mopped by the scarfs wrapped about their necks. Paco’s to hide his scars. Hers to keep the sun from burning. And also to mop the sweat away after having sex. Which they do rather a lot. In all manner of places. In fact, pretty much anytime they go anywhere new.

  ‘Hang on,’ she says, pulling a battered notepad from a pocket. She flips the lid, finds a pencil and writes zoo reception on the Places We’ve Had Sex list. ‘Done. Right. Let’s get to it.’

  Getting to it means finding doors, cages, traps, hatches and anything enclosed, and then making them unenclosed. They start small and head into the furry creatures section.

  Noise greets her. A cacophony of squeaks and squeals coming from small furry things with big ears that looked cute enough to lock up so people could gawp and pay money while slurping sugary drinks and banging on cages and glass walls.

  But the noise is good. Noise means life and at least a decent water supply was provided.

  A few moments later and they leave that section behind as it explodes into motion with furry bodies hopping about while others hunker down and hide from the noise.

  Into the reptile house and they do the same again. Heather likes animals, but she doesn’t get the attraction to reptiles.

  They start lifting lids and sliding hatches to give freedom to the lizards and geckos until they reach the far end. ‘Urgh. I can’t,’ she says, shaking her head as Paco smiles and goes past her to deal with the snakes and spiders. Most of which will probably try and eat each other. In fact, Heather does realise that most of the things they set free will still starve, or die of thirst, or get eaten, or simply perish. But that’s the order of things. That’s natural, and at least they’ll have a fighting chance.

  ‘I can’t believe what Henry said about the immunes either,’ she calls out as he pops the door open leading to the back corridor that services the tanks. ‘All that stuff about them being herded together and held captive. Which is rather apt considering where we are. But do you know what I mean?’

  ‘Es,’ he shouts back while spilling trays of food over the floor and opening cupboards and ripping tops from freezers and fridges. Giving access to the food stored within. It stinks something awful. Previously frozen mice and rats now thawed and rotting. He starts on the tanks next. Opening the lids one after the other. Reaching into tanks containing giant spiders to prop logs and debris against the side so they can climb to freedom. He reaches the last tank, pops the lock from the hatch and reaches in before freezing.

  ‘Ether?’ he calls.

  She winces outside. Knowing what he’s found. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Cobra.’

  ‘Fuck,’ she says, grimacing again. ‘I don’t know. What do you think? I mean, it’s dangerous right. But it’s still an animal. ‘Just do it. If it’s safe. We said that. We said we’ll let everything go and it’s up to them what they do.’

  ‘Kay.’

  ‘Have you done it.’

  ‘Es.’

  ‘Did it react?’

  ‘Es.’

  ‘Did it bite you?’

  ‘Es.’

  ‘The cobra bit you?’

  ‘Es,’ he says, coming into view with a king cobra attached to his arm with the tail dangling down.

  ‘That’s gross, Paco! Get it off. No, seriously. Just get rid of it.’

  ‘Kay,’ he says and reaches down to prize the mouth open as the cobra stares back and determines, in his cobra way of determining things, that he’s pretty sure most prey tend to keel over once they’ve been bitten. And he put a shit load of venom in too. He’s been locked up for years and been waiting to chomp on something since he got here. Now he’s plucked off and sent on his way as Paco looks down at the puncture wounds on his arm and the venom being rejected by his body.

  ‘So gross,’ Heather says when he rejoins her. She pulls the notepad out and adds Cobra to the Things That Have Bitten Paco list. A rattlesnake had him in the last place. Paco wasn’t rattled though. He just plucked it free. A spitting cobra also tried to spit, but Paco glared at it and slunk off. Then there was that big python that tried to pick a fight with him while Paco just tapped it on the nose until it got annoyed and went away.

  She checks the snakebite, shaking her head at the lack of swelling. No inflamed skin. No nothing. Just one hungry cobra with a sore nose.

  Another door opened to a greeting of screeching that’s music to Heather’s ears. Whoops and shouts. Yells and wails. The follow the path running between the big caged sections and use the wire cutters to snap locks and open doors. Paco rips most of them off too, to prevent them closing by accident after they leave.

  Everything gets freed. Gibbons and lemurs. Capuchins and marmosets. Sloths and macaques. Chimps and orangutans.

  Some of the primates inside scatter and run. Some panic and fling shit. Some lie dead. Too weak and too old to have survived the lack of food and water. Most of those have been eaten. It’s disturbing to see, but it’s what life is, and if Heather died right now, she’d have no issue with these things eating her if it meant they survived. Likewise, she’d eat them if it meant her own survival.

  The final act, before they leave the park, is to find the food stores and shred every bag of grain and feed they can find.

  It’s not enough. Heather knows that. But it’s about all they can do, and eventually they head back to the SUV. Grunting and gasping as they sink into the hot seats then sighing in relief when the air-con kicks in.

  They drink water and mop faces as she pulls a map out and starts inspecting the roads. ‘Do you know what?’ she asks, staring over as he glugs from a bottle of Lucozade. ‘Stuff the immunes today. Let’s do another zoo.’

  ‘Kay,’ he says before belching.

  A smile shared and they leave the carpark behind to delve once more into the deserted country lanes.

  14

  Diary of Maddox Doku

  I have no idea why I’m doing this. It feels stupid.

  I did keep a diary in prison once, but that was only to pass a course about accepting personal responsibility and get a month off my sentence.

  Whatever.

  It still feels stupid, but I like Paula, and she said we should write things down. It came about from that place we stopped in when Howie and Clarence got all the ravioli cans. I was helping Paula get it all sorted when she stopped and looked at me.

  I asked her if she was okay, then she grabbed my arm and pulled a face. Like the face she does when she’s thinking. She’s cool like that. She does it a lot. She’ll put her hand on your arm or your shoulder and lift one eyebrow and cock her head over as though having that physical contact with you is helping her think.

  I don’t like being touched normally. We didn’t grow up all touchy feely where Mo and I come from. You touch people the wrong way on our estate and you either get stabbed up, or your house catches fire. But Paula’s got that way about her. She even does it to Dave sometimes. He used to look terrified, but he’s used to it now.

  Anyway. Paula’s got her hand on my arm then she smiles. Come with me she said, and she started pulling me over to this shop and telling me to open the door. I was like. What f
or. But she’s all eager and nodding so I give the door a kick then grab her to stop her charging in because she didn’t have a rifle. I went in first, but it was all dusty and stale. What did you need anyway? I asked and she started grabbing all these books. Like diary books. All with nice covers. What do you think? She asked me. About what? I asked her. Keeping diaries, she said then she’s stacking them in my arms, and we go outside, and Paula gets everyone together and starts handing the books out.

  What’re these for? Blowers asked. I thought it might be nice she said. You know, after hearing Neal’s diary. Then Tappy was like fuck yes! I’ll do one. Danny and Mo got one each and they’re like looking at each other then at Paula. Don’t be like that! she said. I just thought that what we’re doing is pretty important and maybe one day people might want to know about it.

  I’ll do one Charlie said. Then Nick looked all smug and smiled at Paula. Ah man, I’d love to, Paula! But I can’t read or write.

  Don’t worry she said. We’ll get you a Dictaphone.

  Hey, talking of dicks. I think this is Blowers’ diary, Cookey said and he’s holding his up with a picture of a drooping dick drawn in it with a sad face on the end. I didn’t want to laugh cos I don’t think dick jokes are funny, but it was kinda funny.

  Anyway. Then we set off to find a control point to show Henry what they’re like and I was wondering if I already have it. I’m not infected like Howie is. But I’m full of energy all the time. I get hurt like they do when we fight, and I heal up quick too. But then I always did so it’s hard to tell.

  It was weird having Henry there. The dynamics were all different. I liked the way his team all dressed though. They’ve had that look. That don’t fuck with us look but without being dressed like soldiers. Like in the movies when the SF guys are pretending to be civilians. They’re calm too, and smart. Bash was like early or mid-twenties. Joan was old. Carmen looked about thirty. She’s really attractive. I smiled a few times and made eye contact, but it wasn’t returned. That’s cool though. I’m like ten years younger than her and she said she doesn’t date fit guys either. She likes nerds and smart guys. I mean. I am smart, but I’m fit too. Like – I’m not boasting. I just am.