Blog of the Dead - Life

by Lisa Richardson

  ‘We’re being watched,’ said Misfit.

  ‘Fuck! What if one managed to slip into the van and get inside while we were busy with the zombies?’ I said. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my stomach. The thought that an HZ had been prowling the building while we had been fucking about having a snowball fight made me want to throw up. ‘The others …’

  ‘It’s OK. The tracks only go as far as that corner,’ said Misfit, turning his head and nodding to where he’d just come from. ‘Then they turn and head back the way they came. Their intention was to spy, not attack.’

  ‘Well, I’d still feel happier after we check inside,’ said Kay. ‘Just in case they found another way in.’

  We bolted back to the van. Sean and Kay climbed inside first, followed by Misfit and I went in last, locking the van’s back doors behind me. We emerged from the side door into the café. I slid the door closed, locked it and caught up with the others on the shop floor. We stood outside the café, at the end of the checkouts. ‘Kay, Sean, you have a quick look down here, check for any signs of forced entry from where the deliveries come in. Me and Misfit are going to head up and check everything’s OK up there.’

  ‘Don’t let on to the others yet,’ said Misfit. ‘We don’t want to panic anyone unnecessarily.’ Sean nodded and he and Kay darted up the nearest checkout, heading for the back of the store.

  I followed Misfit through the door to the stairwell. At the top of the stairs we practically ran into Shane. ‘You all OK?’ I asked him.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Shane. ‘Shouldn’t it be me asking you guys that? You’re the one that went out.’

  ‘Yeah, we’re fine,’ I said. ‘A few zombies to kill but we’re all good. Nothing to report. Misfit caught a fox for Sara. Gotta go,’ I said, patting Shane’s elbow before pushing through the double doors into the office.

  As I headed after Misfit, I scanned the office – children playing with toys and moaning about having to stay indoors when they’d rather play in the snow, teenagers playing cards and reading books, or just looking bored, Clay teaching Sam some boxing moves, the elderly napping – all was as we left it. I still couldn’t get rid of the uneasy feeling that an HZ had managed to get into the store while we weren’t looking and was now hiding somewhere ready to pounce when we least expected it.

  I caught up with Misfit before he reached the door to Flick and Sara’s office. ‘Don’t you think the others should know there’s a strong possibility there was an HZ out there,’ I said, turning to face him. ‘We’re not exactly that secure here. They should know so they’re prepared. I mean, Marco probably knows where we are now. That’s bad. He could attack at any moment.’

  ‘It’s not as bad as you think,’ said Misfit.

  ‘How? We don’t know where he is but he knows where we are and we’re stranded by the snow. That is bad,’ I said.

  Entry Twenty-Six

  Misfit laid the fox’s body out on a desk while he skinned and jointed it with expert precision. He cut off a small chunk and passed it to Flick to give to Sara, something to keep her going while he worked on the rest of the carcass.

  ‘I agree with Misfit,’ said Flick. We had filled her in about the footprints and the high possibility we were being watched by Marco’s HZs. ‘The situation is what it is and we’re stuck here for now. So there’s no point in alarming the others, especially the kids and the elderly, until we’ve had time to formulate a plan.’

  ‘I have a plan,’ said Misfit. ‘I’m going back outside to track those prints I saw. They must lead back to wherever Marco and the HZs are hiding out.’ Misfit cut a leg from the skinned fox and passed it to Flick, who held it out to Sara.

  ‘Foooo,’ said Sara as she took the leg, biting into it without hesitation, while Flick wiped her bloody hands on her jeans. As a strict vegetarian herself, I admired her unflappable ability to handle the meat she knew Sara needed.

  Misfit carried on chopping until he had jointed the whole fox. I watched Sara chew on the leg joint, red blood dripping down her chin and onto her jumper. She made no effort to clean herself, no apology for the bloody, sticky mess she made of herself. She displayed no emotion at all, not even greed or pleasure. Placid, like a gorilla leisurely eating a banana.

  ‘Right, my work here is done. I’m going back outside,’ said Misfit.

  ‘Be careful,’ I said. ‘Don’t get too close. And once you know where they are, come back for us.’

  ‘I will,’ he said. ‘I’ll get Kay and Sean to let me out if you want to stay up here.’ He turned and headed for the door.

  ‘Thank you,’ Flick called after him. He stopped, turned and nodded to Flick. Our eyes met and he gave me a sheepish half smile before turning, bloody knife in hand, and left the office, shutting the door behind him.

  I sat on a chair, one of those swivel chairs that once I would have spun on and giggled like an idiot. Flick sat beside me while Sara continued to gnaw on her joint, much of the flesh having been chewed off already. She appeared content to pick at the bone. ‘She’s making good progress,’ I said, still looking at Sara.

  ‘Yes, she is. More than I ever imagined,’ said Flick. ‘She’s birth, death and rebirth in one physical body.’

  ‘She’s a miracle, alright. But it’s frustrating to be so close to a cure but have no way of making it.’

  Flick fixed me in a stare. ‘A cure? Is that how you see her?’

  ‘I –’

  ‘Sophie, Sara isn’t a cure. A cure to what?’

  ‘Well, I … Zombieism. Maybe –’

  ‘Zombies are dead. How can the dead be cured?’

  ‘She’s healing,’ I said quickly before Flick cut me off again. ‘Immune. Surely the antibodies in her blood could be a way to finding a cure?’

  ‘Sophie, you have to understand something.’ Flick reached forwards and took one of my hands in hers. ‘Sara – well, whoever Sara was before she got bit and turned – died. Her soul has long gone to carry on its journey. Her body is healing but what’s happening to her mentally, this development could possibly be coming from a few surviving memories stored in her brain. Chances are, while I’d no longer put any limits on her physical development, her mental function will never be any more than child-like. Or maybe a new soul has been reborn into her. I don’t know. As far as a cure … I would say it would be impossible. Like I said, the souls of the dead are already gone. There’s no bringing them back. Let the dead go.’

  ‘That’s just your opinion.’ A thought struck me then – had Zombie-Shelby come back to the cottage because she remembered us, because she was still in there somewhere? Or because, being a remote building surrounded by fields, it merely interested something within her barely functioning brain? I shoved the thought away, not wanting to be swayed by Flick’s theories. ‘What if souls don’t exist? What if we are what we are because it’s all programmed into our brains? If so, Sara could be whoever she was … in time.’

  ‘Ok, fair enough, I don’t believe that but let’s just go with it,’ began Flick, ‘Sophie, do you really think antibodies from Sara’s blood could bring a zombie – a rotting corpse – back to life? Perhaps if they had recently been bitten, before they turned. But after? Long after? I don’t believe that could be possible. Too much physical damage would have happened by then. I don’t believe there’s a cure to what’s happening out there.

  ‘I could be wrong. I know very little about conventional medicine,’ Flick continued. ‘But one thing I do know is Sara is a new life and must be respected. It’s not up to us to use her for our own means.’

  I pulled my hand free of Flick’s maybe a little too forcefully and noted the wounded look on her face. Sara had discarded the gnawed leg bone and had helped herself to another chunk of meat from the desk. ‘Foooo,’ she said.

  ‘Like you say, you know very little about medicine,’ I said. I stood and darted out the door so the tear that ran down my cheek wouldn’t betray me.

  On the other side of the door, I wiped the tear away. Jay
and Cameron came whizzing in from the front office. Cameron had a toy car that Jay wanted and he ran ahead laughing while Jay waddled after him, his cheeks crimson and tear stained, and emitting a continuous high pitched whine that he didn’t seem to have to take a breath for. They ran past me and between the desks, and out to the front office again.

  Charlotte and Char sat together at a desk, Charlotte plaiting the front section of Char’s hair. I walked over to the window and placed my hands on the windowsill. I noticed it had started to snow hard again.

  We’re never going to get out of here, I thought, watching thick flakes of snow hit and stick to the glass. I rolled a cigarette and blew smoke at the glass and watched as a circle of smoke and my breath clouded the windowpane.

  I’d not long finished my cigarette when Misfit sidled up to me, the cold on his clothes and skin rubbing off on me. ‘You’re back already?’ I said.

  ‘The fresh snow made it impossible to pick up the trail. They could be anywhere by now. Good news is Kay and Sean found no sign that anyone attempted to get in around the back.’

  ‘Yet,’ I said. ‘What do we do, Misfit?’ I leaned closer to him so my mouth was close to his ear. ‘I can’t stand the thought that they’re out there … watching us. How long would it take for them to get in through the van … no time at all, that’s how long,’ I whispered. I turned my face so I could look into Misfit’s eyes.

  Misfit placed the palm of his hand against my cheek. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you,’ he said softly. ‘You believe that don’t you?’

  His brown eyes showed no sign of macho bravado, just honesty. ‘I do,’ I said.

  ‘I have something for you.’

  ‘What?’

  I watched as Misfit put a hand behind him and pulled something out of the back of his jeans. He swung his arm around to the front and I saw he held a book with a black cover, a fountain pen hooked over the front. ‘I thought you might like this.’ I took it from him and opened it up to see the blank pages of a notebook. ‘It’s for when you feel like starting a diary again,’ said Misfit, a sheepish grin on his face.

  I smiled, a wide smile. It had been a while since I’d received a gift, especially such a thoughtful one. ‘Thank you.’ I leaned forwards and kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘I know it’s early but –’

  ‘Early?’

  ‘It’s not Christmas day until tomorrow.’

  ‘Bloody hell, it’s Christmas eve!’

  ‘Yeah. Kay and Sean brought up a Christmas tree and some decorations from the store,’ said Misfit. ‘They thought the kids would like to decorate it. Only Amy’s not letting anyone else near the thing.’

  Kay and Sean volunteered to do the first shift of the night watch in the hallway outside the offices, more aware than most of the need to be extra vigilant. I told them me and Misfit would take over for the second shift. But while I should have been grabbing a few hours of much needed sleep, I lay on my makeshift bed, my eyes wide open, my ears straining to hear anything that would suggest the HZs breaking in.

  In the dark, I could just make out the sleeping forms of Charlotte, Jordan and Clay and I could hear Patrick snoring from the front office, a steady, rhythmic snore, almost like a cat purring, only louder. The only other person awake was Misfit. I looked at him sitting on the windowsill, looking out over the back of the building, like an owl perched on a branch, waiting for a mouse to scurry by so he could swoop on it.

  Entry Twenty-Seven

  I must have drifted off because I woke, early morning light just breaking through the steel grey clouds, confused as to where I was. I glanced around the office and could see Kay and Sean sleeping side by side between a couple of desks but I couldn’t see Misfit anywhere. I also noticed Clay’s bed was empty. I stood up, slid my knife into my belt and crept through the office, not wanting to wake the others. I edged through the front office, past the perfectly decorated Christmas tree, and reached the double doors, pushing them open gently so as not to make any noise.

  Clay and Misfit each sat on a chair in the hallway outside, Clay with his gloves hanging around his neck and Misfit digging his hunting knife into the foam padding of the seat between his legs. ‘I was supposed to do the second shift with you,’ I said to Misfit.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘Clay woke up and it didn’t make sense to wake you.’

  ‘But you should’ve.’

  ‘You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to.’

  ‘Oh, OK,’ I said, unused to Misfit wanting to do anything with anyone other than me. I walked across the landing and rested my back against the railing at the top of the stairs. Pulling my baccy from my pocket, I rolled a cigarette, ready for my first nicotine hit of the day.

  ‘Well, happy Christmas, guys,’ I said.

  ‘Christmas day … bloody hell,’ said Clay.

  ‘Second one in the apocalypse,’ I said, blowing smoke out of my mouth.

  ‘I miss Christmas with my family,’ said Clay. ‘Me, my mum and my sisters and my aunts and uncles and their kids. Our little house used to be bursting with people all stuffing themselves on my mum’s roast and wading through wrapping paper and arguing over watching the Bond movie or the Queen’s speech. Mum always used to win and we’d have to watch the Queen’s speech and we’d all pretend to hate it but it was all part of the tradition.’

  ‘I miss it too,’ I said.

  ‘Who would you have spent it with?’ asked Clay.

  ‘My mum, dad and little brother. And my nan would stay with us from Christmas eve until the day after Boxing day. She’d always drink too much sherry and complain that my dad’s turkey was too dry and that my mum should cook it … bless her and her outdated ways.’

  ‘My stepdad would get pissed every Christmas day and hit my mum in front of me and my sister. One year he got in such a rage on Christmas eve that he stamped on all the presents under the tree. Next morning there were a lot less presents and what was there had been rewrapped. I guess Mum had tried her best to fix things. Later he tipped Mum’s roast dinner into the kitchen sink and shoved her face in it, saying she had to eat it out of there and be thankful it wasn’t the floor. Anyway, it’s stopped snowing,’ said Misfit, nodding to the window behind me, set over the staircase.

  I shuffled forwards and reached a hand down towards his shoulder. ‘Shit, Misfit, I –’

  ‘I’m going to head out to see if I can see any fresh tracks.’ He stood and slid his hunting knife through his belt as he strutted past me to the top of the stairs. My hand was left hovering in the air, in the spot where his shoulder had been.

  ‘I’ll come down and let you out, man,’ said Clay, rising to his feet, and I guessed from his response Misfit must have filled him in on the tracks he found the previous day and how we had guessed they were made by an HZ.

  ‘Cool, thanks,’ said Misfit.

  ‘I –’ I was about to offer to go too, feeling a bit left out, when raised voices from inside the office cut me short. ‘I’ll just go and see what that’s all about then, shall I?’

  ‘I’ll see you in a little while, Sophie,’ said Misfit.

  ‘Be careful out there,’ I said. I turned from him and pushed through the double doors into the office.

  Inside, I saw Sara sitting on the floor with a kids’ book open on her lap. Jay sat next to her, turning the pages while Sara studied them. I could see that Sara spoke as she saw each new page, but I couldn’t hear what she said because Amy and Kelly stood in the middle of the office arguing with each other. ‘How dare you insinuate I’m an irresponsible mother!’ I heard Kelly say to Amy as I approached them.

  ‘You’re allowing your child to read a book with a zombie – a zombie! I’d say that’s irresponsible,’ said Amy. ‘Look how close they’re sitting.’ Amy threw her arm out towards Jay and Sara, making Jay jump and he hid behind Sara.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I asked, standing between Amy and Kelly.

  ‘That bloody zombie is loose again,’ said Amy. Flick appeared a
round the stud wall, carrying her shotgun. She had to push through Kay and Sean who stood watching the argument from the gap in the wall. ‘You were supposed to be keeping it away from the rest of us!’ Amy’s voice boomed across the office at Flick, making Jay shrink into Sara’s side even further.

  ‘She’s a she, not an it,’ said Flick as she walked towards us. ‘And she’s not used to being cooped up inside like this.

  ‘She’s not doing any harm,’ said Kelly.

  ‘Kelly, what happened?’ I asked.

  ‘I woke up to see Sara and Jay sitting together quietly, looking at a book. Next minute motor-mouth over there wakes up and starts shrieking, scaring Jay and waking the whole place up.’

  ‘YOUR CHILD IS SITTING NEXT TO A ZOMBIE! Why am I the only one who can see this is madness?’

  ‘Anyone got any popcorn?’ said Kay. I shot her a look.

  ‘Why are you the only one who can’t see she’s harmless?’ I said, turning back to Amy. ‘And the only person around here who is causing any harm is you. Look at her! Look at her, Amy. Tell me how she’s a danger to anyone!’ All eyes turned to Sara who continued to gaze at the colourful book, oblivious to the controversy around her. Flick knelt beside her, her arm around Sara’s shoulder.

  ‘One bite. That’s all it will take,’ said Amy, looking me in the eye.

  ‘One more word, Amy,’ I said, stepping closer so I stood directly in front of her, just close enough to be invading her personal space. I had to look up to get eye contact. ‘One more word is all it will take before I smack you one. Shut up!’

  I watched as her face, her ruddy cheeks already blushed with anger, turned scarlet. She looked like a volcano about to erupt, red hot lava bubbling to the surface, ready to blow. Tracey tiptoed forwards and linked her arm through one of Amy’s. ‘Come on,’ she said, trying to guide Amy away, but Amy wouldn’t allow herself to be moved. ‘Amy, none of us are happy being shut up in a small space like this,’ continued Tracey. ‘But it’s not for much longer. And lets all try and get on, hey?’