The Undead | Day 25 [The Heat]

by Haywood, RR

  ‘Okay,’ Howie said. ‘And we need to get her to the fort.’

  ‘How?’ Marcy asked. ‘None of us can take her. And Carmen can’t do it either.’

  ‘What about Heather?’ I asked.

  ‘Heather was a bit upset,’ Howie said.

  ‘Fuck being upset!’ Marcy shouted from downstairs. ‘She’ll have to get on with it like the rest of us.’

  ‘Just radio Lilly and get her to send someone. Tell her it’s Milly’s sister,’ Howie said.

  ‘Why can’t Heather just do it?’ Marcy asked.

  ‘Cos she got attacked by lions and tigers, Marcy!’ Howie shouted as Cookey started doing the lions and tigers and bears oh my! song outside. (Which did make me smile, and I could hear Molly laughing her head off too).

  Marcy didn’t find it very funny. ‘Don’t you she got attacked by lions and a tiger, Marcy me, Howie,’ she shouted up the stairs. ‘You know what. I’m too hot to argue. Fine. Whatever. Call the princess then.’

  ‘Who’s the princess?’ Howie asked giving me a look.

  ‘LILLY!’ Marcy shouted.

  ‘Okay okay, no need to shout,’ Howie said while pulling his radio off his belt. ‘Er, hi, it’s Howie. Is Lilly there please?’

  ‘Wrong radio you gimp!’ Marcy shouted as Howie’s voice came out of our cheap radio sets.

  At which point Howie started swearing a lot and Frank was rolling his eyes and no doubt Marcy was getting ready to shout more.

  Fortunately, Henry stepped in and said he would do it while Marcy clumped up the stairs. ‘Done,’ Henry said a moment later. ‘Lilly will arrange collection from the town centre.’

  ‘That’s nice of the princess,’ Marcy said.

  ‘Is Molly okay?’ Carmen asked.

  ‘She seems fine on the surface, but she said her foo foo hurts and her back-bottom keeps bleeding, so I’m guessing they raped her anally.’

  That poor girl. I don’t know what to say. Honestly. But I guess at least we can get her to safety.

  ‘Let’s hope she’s not pregnant,’ Marcy said. ‘Anyway. We’ll grab some clothes for her, oh and she wants a blue folder. She said it’s Milly’s. It’s got her drawings in.’

  We found it on the floor under a set of drawers. Howie grabbed it and we saw the front said MILLY’S FOLDER. But the words were completely different to how Molly had done her sign. They were all flowing and neat. Then we opened the folder to a hand drawn picture of a German Shepherd. ‘Bloody hell. That’s Meredith!’ Howie said.

  ‘Get off. It’s just a dog,’ Marcy said. ‘Milly never saw Meredith before all this.’

  ‘All dogs look the same in pictures,’ Carmen said. But then even she agreed the drawing looked a lot like Meredith.

  Then Frank found a photo on the floor and asked if Molly would want it. It was a photo of three people in some kind of social services family centre by the looks of it.

  Milly, Molly and a young boy about the same age as Milly with the same blonde hair and blue eyes and rosy cheeks.

  ‘He looks familiar,’ Carmen said.

  ‘We’ve seen him before,’ Henry said. ‘In the canteen in the fort. George commented on the pictures on the wall. One was of that young boy.’

  ‘This photo was a few years ago though,’ Marcy said.

  ‘Maybe it’s when they got separated,’ Howie said, then we spotted the photo had names below each face. Milly, Molly and Mikey. We figured Mikey was the brother and probably got taken into care too.’

  Anyway. It was awful. I mean truly upsetting, but the whole day was like that. Everywhere we went was upsetting, and it just got worse by the hour.

  25

  Diary of Carmen Eze

  Honestly. That day just got more surreal by the minute.

  We’d just stopped for another coffee because things were getting worse between Henry and Howie. Much worse.

  But that’s not the surreal part. Well, no, it was the surreal part. But it was all surreal. And to top it all off by then I was starting to develop a crush.

  I know right.

  We were still in Stickleton gearing up to meet Princess Lilly (loving her new nickname btw) but Molly needed somewhere to get changed and so Marcy bundled her into Roy’s van, but Reggie was still in the back working at his desk.

  ‘Why is she coming in here?’ he asked. (You could tell he wasn’t happy.) ‘Good lord! You can see her bosoms. Get the poor woman covered up. Honestly. It’s enough to put me off my book.’

  ‘That’s why she’s in here,’ Marcy told him.

  ‘I like books,’ Molly said. ‘Is it a book about fairies?’

  ‘No. Sadly it is not,’ Reginald said. ‘It is a book about the principles of virology and molecular biology.’

  Molly then looked all thoughtful for a second and asked him to read to her, and Reggie put on this show of flicking through the pages. ‘Okay then. Here we are. This is an interesting one… Are you ready?’

  ‘Oh god, this is going be painful,’ Marcy said.

  ‘Indeed. Thank you,’ Reginald said. ‘Now, young Molly, is that your name? Oh my. Well, I never. The girl in this story is also called Molly. But alas, this Molly is a fairy you see, and one day, Molly was talking to Big Bob, he’s a goblin by the way.

  Oh, Big Bob. Wherever shall we find some new clothes to wear! The grand party is happening soon, Molly the fairy said.

  Donchaworry, Molly, Big Bob replied. We’ll find yer some new clothes quick smart…’

  And Paula’s mouthing ‘what the fuck,’ at me and literally everyone went silent so they could listen to Reginald telling this story. (He was even doing the voices!)

  ‘Donchaworry, Molly. We’re gonna find you a dress. Wot about this one then?

  Oh no! Big Bob. That one is red. I shan’t wear that either.

  Well. We’ve only got one left, Moll. And it’s blue, and ladies they don’t like to wear blue do they.

  Oh no! Big Bob! Blue is my most favourite colour and I shall wear it forever… And Molly wore the blue dress to the fairy party and all the other goblins and fairies said she was the prettiest fairy of them all. The end!’

  By then Molly was wearing her own pretty blue dress and everyone was smiling because it was just bloody adorable. (Especially after what we’d just seen in the house.)

  Well. Not everyone. Henry wasn’t happy. He ‘suggested’ we hurry up. Which only sparked Marcy off (she doesn’t hold back, let me tell you that.) And she was leaning out of the van shouting at Henry to sod off. Then slamming the door closed, then opening it again and yelling ‘are we bloody going then or what?’ (I actually love it that Marcy stands up to Henry. That said. I get the feeling Marcy would do it to anyone. She really doesn’t suffer fools.)

  Diary of Maddox Doku

  …So then we finally get going and I was back in the Saxon because Marcy, Charlie and Paula were still playing dress up with Molly. That sounds mean. I don’t mean that. Molly was really cute. Not sexually. Well, no, she’s hot. Like we all thought that soon as she opened that door. But I was already thinking something wasn’t right before Howie started talking to her like she was a kid. It was the make-up she had on. It was all blue and green around the eyes like how a kid would do it.

  But that was all weird and even now I’m conflicted because I don’t like Howie being judge, jury and executioner. I know I was a criminal and served time, but due process is important. The concept of law has to remain otherwise people become savages.

  But I felt conflicted because I agreed with what Howie did. I mean those guys were heroin junkie scum, right? But how do we know Molly didn’t just say they raped her? How do we know she won’t get to the fort and say Mr Howie or Maddox put their willies in her mouth until the yucky stuff came out?

  But when I put myself in Howie’s position and imagine it was me at that door when Molly answered it. Honestly? I think I would have done the same thing. I think we all would. (Lynch mob anyone?)

  Yeah. So I was back in the Saxon and it was hotter tha
n hell and Booker was shifting about like he couldn’t sit still. He was even worse when Molly opened the door at her house. I thought his eyes were going to pop out. But then we ALL had that reaction.

  So we were driving for less than ten minutes when we pull into this long narrow street and Howie stops because there’s some people ahead blocking the road. Like two groups on either side of the street and they’re all armed with sticks and knives, and some guy has a sword, and another one has got some rusty old shotgun.

  And Clarence is like you are joking me. But we’ve got no choice but to stop. Then Howie groans and he’s telling Clarence to look at the buildings behind the group.

  One group was outside of a mosque. And Clarence asked what the other building was. Synagogue Howie tells him, but it gets worse because the doors to a church open a bit further up and this third group come out and they’re all tooled up and marching towards the first two groups.

  This is all we need. Getting dragged into a twatty religious shitstorm Howie said. Clarence suggested we could just drive off, (but you could tell he didn’t mean it.)

  How? Howie asks him. We’d never turn around and we can’t back up. Henry would tut at us.

  So then, we’re all piling out, and Marcy and Paula were asking what was going on. That’s a bit shit then Marcy said. We could just go. But Howie said we’d never turn around. And Henry would tut at us again.

  By then, Henry is out of his vehicle and walking up. What’s the hold up now? He asked. And he was pissy. You could see he was pissy.

  That is Howie said, and he pointed ahead to the three sides all shouting at each other.

  And Henry’s like, I see. A mosque and a synagogue. Understood. Oh, and yes, a church. Hmmm, perhaps we could just leave them to it?

  We’d never turn around, Clarence said. And you’d tut at us Howie said.

  But Henry just gives him this steely look and says, right. Well, we’d best get it sorted then. Which ones do you want? How about I take the Muslims. Howie, you do the Jews. Paula, perhaps you and Carmen can do the Christians. I’ll take Mo and Bash with me. Do we have any Jews? And are any of you Christian?

  Then Howie was like, what the fuck? (I was thinking it too)

  But Henry said always helps to have one of their team on your team so to speak. Bridges gaps like nothing else. You okay if I borrow Mo then?

  And Howie says, I don’t think Mo’s a Muslim.

  He’s from Afghanistan. Henry says.

  No. He’s from a council estate and you can’t assume someone is a Muslim because of what they look like. Howie says.

  I don’t. But they will, Henry says and he’s pointing down the street. Trust me, Howie. I’ve been doing this job for a long time and dealing with religious types is always hard.

  Diary of Carmen Eze

  …And we’re all out in the street by this time listening to Howie detonate at Henry.

  ‘No wonder the world was going to rat shit if you do bollocks like that. What the actual fuck, Henry! Right. I’m doing the Christians and you can take Bash to the Jews and Marcy can do the Muslims.’

  Henry was acting cool, but I could see he was starting to get rattled and he then tells Howie there might be an issue with Muslims talking to someone like Marcy.

  ‘What the shit does that mean?’ Howie asks him.

  ‘I just mean we need to resolve whatever this is, and get on with what we need to do, which isn’t this. Whatever this is. Therefore, I am suggesting the most common-sense approach to achieve the best outcome,’ Henry said.

  ‘You mean a racist approach,’ Howie said.

  ‘It is not racist.’

  ‘It is bloody racist. Fuck me. Right. Tell you what. We’re just going to walk into the middle, and they can come and talk to us. How about that?’

  Frank then points out that idea isn’t tactically sound. But Howie’s not having any of it. ‘Fuck tactically sound. And I’m not bloody Jewish either. Not that being Jewish is bad, but I’m not. And Mo doesn’t look like a Muslim. He looks like a fucking kid! Jesus wept.’

  Then someone in the church group shouts PRAISE JESUS and Howie shouts, ‘Fuck off!’

  ‘Please don’t yell fuck off if someone shouts praise Allah,’ Henry warned him quickly.

  ‘Why? Would that be racist?’ Howie asked him with a smug nod. Which is fair enough because Henry used the word retarded a minute ago but now he was trying to show sensitivity just to piss Howie off. Which was clearly working as Howie was almost frothing at the mouth by then. ‘And why aren’t you sweating? It’s like forty degrees!’ Howie asked him.

  ‘Indeed. A fascinating subject. But shall we resolve this and move on?’ Henry said.

  ‘Hang on a second,’ Howie said. ‘REGGIE! I NEED YOU!’ he shouts, but Reginald calls back that he’s telling Molly another story.

  ‘It’s the fairy sports day and Molly the fairy hasn’t got anyone to do the sack race with,’ Reginald says.

  ‘Why can’t Big Bob do it?’ Frank asks.

  ‘Duh. He’s Big Bob. He’s too big,’ I tell him as the lads all go ah! Like they were thinking the same as Frank.

  ‘He’s too big,’ Reginald called from the van. (I was right)

  ‘And why do we need Reginald?’ Henry asked.

  ‘Cos he’s the smarterest man I know,’ Howie said. ‘And yes. I know I said smarterest. I meant cleverest.’

  ‘Or maybe just smartest?’ Frank suggested.

  ‘Jesus fucking Christ!’ Howie said.

  ‘Praise Jesus!’ one of the Christians yelled.

  ‘FUCK OFF!’ Howie yelled back.

  Then Reginald is walking over with Molly but he’s still telling her the story. ‘Oh no! Big Bob. You are too big to help in the sack race. Whatever shall I do?

  Ere’ donchaworry, Moll. How’s about we ask Gobby the Goblin?

  Oh no, Big Bob! Gobby the Goblin is too slow to help me with the sack race. I want to win. Said Molly the Fairy.

  Ha! I got it, Moll. We’ll ask Pickle the Pixie!

  Oh yes! Big Bob. Pickle the Pixie will be perfect. Well done, Big Bob. And Pickle the Pixie and Molly the Fairy won the sack race at the fairy sports day…Now. How can I help?’ Reginald asked.

  Diary of Maddox Doku

  So then Howie was like, Right. We’ve got Muslims. Jews and Christians all arguing.

  And Reginald said it sounded like the start to a bad Cookey joke.

  No. We’ve got actual religious people. Howe tells him.

  And apparently you’re the smarterest, Frank said.

  Fuck’s sake. I meant cleverest. Smartest! Whatever. Ready?

  Ready for what? Reginald asked.

  To go and sort it out, Howie said.

  Sort what out?

  Whatever they’re arguing about?

  Why would we do that? Reginald asked him. We should just turn around.

  There isn’t room, Frank said.

  And I would tut apparently, Henry said. I do, however, still suggest we use Mo and Bash.

  But Howie was like, you’re not using Mo! That’s racist. Reggie, tell him it’s racist.

  What’s racist? Reginald asked.

  Saying Mo looks like a Muslim.

  And then Reginald says, is that racism? Or is it perhaps stereotyping? I mean one would assume an element of racism contains a derogatory aspect, whereas the assumption of a religious leaning might not be construed as derogatory at all. In this instance, one could hazard a guess that Mo is, indeed, of Arabic descent, therefore one could assume his religion is that of Islam.

  Then Henry was like, thank you, Reginald. But Howie was getting angrier. What the fuck! No! You can’t say Mo looks like he’s Muslim just cos he’s bloody Arabic.

  Of course, we shouldn’t say that, Reginald says. But the question is of racism, not of the level of right or wrong in the assumption. For instance, would you be offended if I were to assume you identified as Church of England?

  What? Well, no, but that’s not the point. Howie said.


  Then what is the point? Reginald asked.

  And Henry’s like. We’re getting off the point.

  But Howie’s shouting back. No! We’re nailing this fucking point. The point is I could be offended so therefore the assumption should never be made.

  Then Frank coughed into his hand and said snowflake. (Which didn’t help but it was funny.)

  But Reginald is staying calm, yes. You are right. The point is that one should never assume. I would suggest that what offence the assumption is causing is the crux of the matter. If you were to assume say a young male from London had a criminal record simply because he was black then yes, that would be racist. But hazarding a guess as to the religious origins of someone may perhaps be a negative stereotype without being racism per se.

  (I’ve got a LOT of views on this and I really wanted to join in, but Frank beat me to it and said Bloody hell, Reginald is the smarterest.

  Mr Howie, I understand your views, Henry said. However, the point is not whether we assume he is Muslim, but if those Muslims assume him to be Muslim, which will then aid our resolution of whatever issue they have.

  Then Howie was telling him to stop speaking like a bloody lawyer. And Henry was telling Howie he is a bloody lawyer.

  But Howie was like, You said you were a spy!

  I said agent. Not spy. And before that I had many roles, one of which was working as an army lawyer, which means I know the best way to resolve issues like this.

  Yeah? Well, Tesco gave me two days of diversity training which said, and I quote, that you can fuck off. We’re not using Mo. End of.

  I did snort a laugh when Howie said that and even Frank smiled, but Henry was getting really cross. It will help! he shouted at Howie.

  It’s the wrong type of help!

  How on earth will that be the wrong type of help?

  Cos it’s the old world type of help that breeds dodgy deals and corruption by tricking people to get what you need. That’s why! We’re not like that, and I won’t do it.

  Okay, Howie, Henry said, he was trying to be polite and cool, but he was getting really wound up. You need to start listening to people with more experience than you. We wouldn’t be saying Mo or Bash are Muslims. The perception and assumption will be made by them.