by Alex South
He focused on his movement - a kind of reassurance. The further he walked, the closer he came to safety. Stress was a major trigger of his epilepsy. He had to hurry.
Zack could see some buildings in the distance – a couple of houses on a junction. One building stood out from the others. White. Large. A typical countryside pub.
They came to some signs and he stopped to read them.
A slight tingle began in his head. He froze, then swallowed, trying to fight it. Pins and needles coursed through his hands. Nausea rose from his gut.
Chapter 8
“Zack… Zack…”
Zack’s eyes opened.
A crowd of faces stared down at him. “Praise the sun. Praise the moon,” said a woman. Stones barked in his ear and licked his cheek – Zack lifted his hands weakly and pushed him away. A general chatter passed around the room.
A sharp pain lay just behind his ear. It began to creep back to him. Where he had been before; the day’s events; the danger he had been in; that he had suffered a fit. He looked around for Macy, finding her kneeling just behind his head.
He moved to stand up, and a woman came closer and lifted him by the arm. Instinct told him to pull away, but he allowed her to help. The crowd backed away slightly. This was a pub. Broken glass and bits of furniture surrounded him. A quiz machine lay on its side, screen destroyed, and covered in dents. The wooden bar too had been hit by a similar force. A slight breeze cooled the room from shattered windows.
“The devil was in you,” said a woman.
“Water… please,” Zack said.
“Come,” said the woman, holding his arm. The crowd shuffled to one side.
Zack looked at Macy. She stared back at him. Together, he and the woman passed by the broken furniture. Glass crunched under his feet. She led him around the bar and to a tap. Stones stayed glued to his side, fur rubbing against his leg.
“Drink,” she said.
Zack dipped down, slurped some water, and rose back up. The woman was now standing very close to him, staring intently.
“The devil was in you,” she said again.
Zack nodded, avoiding her gaze. He looked at Macy again. A long silence passed.
“Is this where you live?” said Zack eventually, not knowing who to look at.
Some of them frowned slightly. His words hung in the room, as if somehow unanswerable.
“Live? We live… we live… anywhere,” said the woman at his side, a confused look across her face.
He had no idea what she meant. “S… um… but… wh- why are we here?”
“I brought you here.”
Zack nodded, deciding to try another angle.
“Thanks for helping me. I’m Zack. That’s Macy. That’s my dog, Stones,” he said, pointing.
“I am Ra.” She beamed. Zack felt a little safer seeing her smile.
The crowd began to introduce themselves, each giving names that seemed more like sounds than words.
“How is the dog controlled?” a man blurted out. Zack’s eyes moved to him. His expression had lit with child-like curiosity – making the dirt and facial hair seem out of place.
“Um… well… urgh… my head really hurts. I’m sorry…” Zack bent down to drink more water.
“How is the dog controlled?” the man said again. Zack rose to see that he now addressed Macy.
She shot a glance at Zack. “Um… he’s not really. He doesn’t do tricks.”
Another long silence. Zack felt an urgent need to break it.
“We’re a bit shaken up right now,” he said, “Why don’t you tell us about yourself, a bit.”
“We’re a small group of seven, and we’re focusing primarily on the smaller parts of the devil,” said a short blond man, who until then had not spoken.
Zack nodded. “Okay.” He tried to think of something else to say.
“Where is your group?” said the woman to his side, Ra.
Zack looked at her. “I don’t know.”
“Did you lose them?”
“I think um… I think me and Macy… just… just need a little bit of time.”
Some of them nodded, looking at one another.
“What they need is to fight the devil!” said the blond man.
“Yes. They must fight back!” exclaimed Ra loudly. A strange energy passed through the group, a burst of nodding heads and eager eyes.
A different woman stepped forwards and handed Zack a bat across the bar. Macy received one too.
“For the moon. For the sun!” someone shouted, everyone chorused this. They burst into motion, attacking the room around them. Everything suddenly seemed too close to him, as the noises crashed into his ears. He winced slightly, almost able to feel their blows upon him. They shot him expectant looks.
Zack lifted his own bat and smashed it on the wooden bar. They all roared with delight. Zack focused on his actions, trying to appear enthusiastic. What was his aim? To just break stuff? He didn’t dare look at anyone. He tried to size up the room in his peripheral vision. He could only see one exit.
He considered his next move: he drew a potential path for himself, starting at the bar where he stood, moving to a table against a wall, then to another table, and another, then to the exit – where he would smash up the door for a bit, and when they weren’t looking he would slip through it. As long as he pretended to be breaking stuff the whole time…
But Stones was running around, delighted by the amount of things to bark at. Zack needed to get him outside too. Macy would follow him subtly, but Stones wouldn’t. He thought of a new plan, something more direct.
He held the bat loosely at his side and walked over to Stones, grabbing him by the collar. A few people nearby stopped what they were doing, as if they knew his intentions. Zack felt his exit slipping away.
“It’s better if he’s outside,” said Zack.
“Why?” said a man.
“He’s er… too excited.”
“He must hate the devil too.”
“What has happened?” said a woman, behind Zack.
“Zack wants to go back outside with the dog,” said one of the men.
“Zack wants to go outside with the dog,” she shouted, looking around to the room at large. All activity amongst the group stopped, as everyone looked at him. “Shall we go outside?” said the woman.
A few of them gave a cheer of approval.
“We have not finished here,” said a man, matter-of-factly.
The woman turned to Zack. “We must finish here,” she said. Her eyes and tone had a strange blankness to them.
“Yeah… I’ll just tie him up outside and we can keep going,” said Zack.
Her face opened with shock. “You cannot leave him alone!”
“Er…”
“No one can be alone!” several people said, with overlapping timings – creating a murmur in the pub.
“He doesn’t mind,” said Zack. His voice becoming quiet.
“No one can be alone!” said the woman, her words strained and high pitched – and so loud they made him jump.
The room grew agitated. He could feel them turning on him, he fumbled for the right words.
“I… no I know, I know, sorry I’m still. I’m still feeling confused… I remember now… it’s fine, we stay together of course… I mean… later when we’re done here, we should go outside.”
“The devil is in him, calling for him,” said a man, almost shouting.
“We must protect him,” said someone else. “We must stay close to him. I will be his protector.”
“I will be his protector,” someone repeated, as if making a pledge.
“I will be his protector,” a different voice.
The phrase moved around the room. A woman came to his side and wrapped her arms around him. She smelt terrible. The rest of room flowed towards him, trapping him in a huge hug.
Chapter 9
Adam stared through dark lenses. His hands gripped the helicopter joystick tightly. His mind r
an through the plan. This time was different, he was actually doing it. This time his mouth was dry, his hands sweaty. His stomach felt too empty, or too full, or both.
He just had to get her inside. Once she was safely confined, once she was where she belonged, and he was where he belonged, then there would be nothing left to go wrong.
And that was going to happen, she was unconscious. He was in complete control. As long as he didn’t fall out of the sky. As long as she didn’t wake up. The first was almost impossible. The second… completely impossible. Everything they designed worked flawlessly. If anything failed him it would be the helicopter.
As long as he didn’t die – there was no reason he would, but being so close, this was the most at risk he would ever be. If he did die, it had to be now, but he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. It was all so close, he just had to concentrate.
Focus. Focus.
Chapter 10
So close; lit up by the sun like a hint from some benevolent force, the outside world, waiting for Zack beyond the pub windows. Waiting with a fresh asphalt road. Waiting to get him, Macy and Stones to safety.
He had to get out.
“STOOOOP,” one of the men shouted. The noise filtered to a silence, leaving one last smash from a woman with the slowest reaction. They all waited, panting heavily. “The devil is defeated here!”
A huge cheer passed through the room. They began to filter towards the exit.
A woman with curly hair took Zack’s arm. “Come on.” She smiled.
“I’m just gonna use the toilet. I’ll catch you up,” said Zack, preparing to get Macy and Stones to join him.
The woman frowned at him. “Use it for what?”
“Er… to wee.”
“No… no!” She grabbed his wrist, turned to the open doorway and shouted a word he didn’t recognise. He felt a stab of frustration, as a couple of males reappeared.
“I think Zack is still hearing the call of the devil. He wants to use the toilet.”
They looked at him, nodded seriously and moved forwards. His body tensed up. Their hands tightened around him, pulling him forcefully towards the door, back into sunlight. Fighting an urge to wrestle free, he looked over his shoulder at Macy. They led him to a stone wall. He felt their hands let go of him. He stared at the wall. Unable to think of anything to say, he climbed over it. Stones followed, leaping over and darting around in the grass.
Zack scanned the area. He had to find out what was going on. He noticed everyone staring at him – as if he done something strange.
“Is everything okay?” Zack said quickly, feeling the energy of the group against him, as if they were waiting for something.
“Here you can wee,” said a man.
“Oh… I don’t need to anymore…”
The group exchanged looks.
“It was just the devil,” said the blond man.
A chatter of agreement passed through them.
“Let’s go!” said someone else.
The group started walking towards the other side of the field. Zack did the same. He searched for something to ask them, something that would help him understand all this. Before he could, a man, short and bald, began to sing.
“I love the sun. I love the moon. I love them forever.”
The tune sounded like someone trying every piano key, then again, but in the other direction.
“I love the sun. I love the moon. I love them forever,” everyone joined in.
“I love the sun. I love the moon. I love them forever,” Zack and Macy sang too.
The song bled into a chant. What little tune it had fell away through repetition. Every time they reached the end, Zack hoped that they would stop – and each time they began again. A deep anger rose in him. Did they know about the zombies? What the fuck was going on?
With each repetition it grew more absurd. With each repetition, Zack sank further and further into an idea – he was not going to get any answers.
Chapter 11
Zack could not think straight. The stupid chant dug into his skull. “I love the sun. I love the moon. I love them forever.”
He thought of running away with Macy in his arms, with Stones running by his side. How would these people react? Every change in the landscape became part of his imaginary escapes. But he remained in their journey, a passenger, as the sun rose higher in the sky.
Did they have a destination? Were these people just going to walk forever? They came to the bottom of a slope and passed through a line of trees.
“That’s it,” said one of the group, cutting though the chant.
They all stopped. The silence hit hard, followed by relief and a hope that they would not begin again. Zack looked down the slope at the road, which led into a village.
He searched for signs of movement as they drew close to a low wall and climbed over it.
Ahead, the road ran past some terraced houses, before turning and descending a hill to feed the rest of the village. This area marked a transition – a place where nature lost ground to concrete and brick. But that was slowly changing. The gardens were losing their shape and becoming overgrown. The cracks of the village were alive with weeds, reaching out to reclaim the ground.
“This one!” a man said, pointing at the terraced houses. The group spread out, moving left and right – half of them went to the front and the other half went to the rear. Some were drawn to a picket fence, which enclosed the back gardens.
A woman looked at him. “Fight the devil, Zack.” She grinned.
Zack headed left towards the picket fence and hit it as hard as he could. A part of it broke. He pulled his arms back and swung again. The fence became a stand in for his captors, as he brought the bat crashing into it once more. He sidestepped slightly, as he prepared to swing again.
Chapter 12
Laura opened her eyes, squinting against the light.
Where am I?
The room was rectangular, with two glass walls – one long and one short. The short one to her right-hand side. The long one before her like a huge screen. Both showed an expansive view of countless pine trees. Rows and rows of tiny arrows far below the building, each catching the sun and leaving its shadow on the tree behind – a tapestry of light and dark that reached the horizon.
Inside, the floor was rich, deep-brown wood. Furniture – modern and expensive looking. A big sofa. A glass coffee table. And the huge bed that she was on, with silk-soft sheets under her touch.
Laura didn’t recognise anything, except for a feeling. A deep, underlying sensation that this was a place where things were clean. Where order had sunk in its claws. It reminded her of how she used to feel – as if a part of her had come back.
“Hello Laura,” said a voice, slightly hoarse but gentle and kind.
Laura looked around.
“My name is Adam. I’m here to answer any questions you may have. Don’t worry, I know this is all very confusing. Just take a moment. Take as long as you need. My job is to explain it all to you. It’s a lovely place isn’t it?”
His voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Laura searched for a speaker. Or an opening of some kind.
“You can’t see me I’m afraid… Do you have any questions?”
“Where am I?” she said quietly.
“You’re in Sweden. In a place called Boden. This is a house that we use for people we want to talk to.”
“How did I get here?”
“Helicopter. Do you remember? I came to get you.”
Laura was quiet for a while. Some images came to her; a blue flash, a man with a colourful shirt.
“Perhaps you would like to sit down, and take some time to think about it. Take your time. I’ll come back in little while.”
She got out of bed and walked over to the glass wall. She stood, looking at the trees below. They were everywhere – so closely packed that she couldn’t see the ground. This was the end of something. The start of something. Maybe it had all been some sort of test. Maybe it hadn
’t been real. She looked back at the bed. No. She hadn’t come out of a coma. It had been real. But why her? Why had he come for her?
Left of the trees below, the otherwise flat, outside face of the building had a bit that stuck out, as if to catch more sun. A sort of glass column. The top of it lined up with a door in her room. She could see stairs inside, leading downwards. The whole thing seemed to descend all the way to the ground, or at least far enough to become obscured by the trees.
“Hello Laura.” She turned around at the sound of his voice. “I just have a little question. Do you have any fillings?”
Her stomach tightened. What was he going to do?
“Why?” she said, trying to sound brave.
“Well, and I’ll explain about this later, but we have a machine here that doesn’t work very well in the presence of metal. Tiny amounts are fine. Very tiny. Like the iron in my blood for example. But anything large enough to see, it just messes up the machine… do you have any?”
“No,” said Laura. A lie – she had two.
“Okay fantastic. Now then, I’m going to send someone down to get you. I should let you know that the person I’m going to send isn’t like you and me. They’re not very talkative. And really they only think in very simple terms. Sounds a bit like my mother-in-law.”
Laura eyed the door.
It opened upwards silently. A huge figure filled the frame, staring at her with dull eyes. His body was swollen – as if grown and stretched by some unnatural force – his shoulders pushed apart, his body bent forwards under his own mass, a flat, misshapen nose on his round face. He had been dressed in an office-shirt and black trousers. Laura saw her own death, as if staring into some type of heavy machinery.
“Funny looking guy isn’t he?” said Adam. “It’s okay. You can follow him.”
With many slow, small steps, he turned around and walked away, leaving her alone in the room. Laura stared at the open door. Beyond it she could see a red carpet and a corridor of some kind. She waited, seeing if the guard would return, or if Adam would speak again.
