Year of the Zombie [Anthology]

by David Moody

  ‘Spare me, love, please. Not today.’

  ‘You’re right. Not today.’

  On the TV now was a clip that had been running every fifteen minutes or so: a guide to spotting (and avoiding) infection. Jody thought it was amusing (and slightly terrifying) how even something as serious as this had been reduced to a viewer-friendly package – a quick burst of flashy edits, funky graphics and attention-grabbing soundbites.

  Stay indoors. If you must leave your home, cover up.

  Don’t take any chances. The infected may look like your friends and family and other loved ones, but they’re not them.

  The incubation period is generally thought to be between one and three hours, but there have been unconfirmed reports of people ‘turning’ up to ten hours after an attack.

  If anyone you are with has any unexplained scratches, cuts or other skin lesions, isolate them.

  If a person you believe may have been infected is still docile and able to talk, tape up their hands.

  Both Jody and Charlie laughed out loud at that one. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Charlie said. ‘You think that’s going to help? Who writes this shit?’

  ‘You know what it’s like... half the stuff we hear on the news is bullshit. They’re empty words designed to stop people panicking, that’s all.’

  ‘Mind you, I think panic is perfectly justified today.’

  ‘I think you’re absolutely right.’

  Gary entered the kitchen, and the conversation abruptly ended. He fetched himself a coffee from the pot. ‘Not talking about me, I hope.’

  ‘She wouldn’t want to hear what I’ve got to say about you,’ Jody answered quickly, then regretted it.

  Gary grinned broadly, then disappeared again.

  ‘Sorry,’ Jody said.

  ‘Not a problem.’

  ‘Yes it is. It’s my problem. I’m the only one here who despises Gary.’

  ‘He can be a real pain in the arse at times, I’ll admit.’

  Jody bit her tongue and resisted the temptation to say anything more.

  An instantly familiar, instantly recognisable high-pitched scream came from somewhere deep in the depths of the house. Jody was on her feet instantly. ‘It’s Holly,’ she said, and ran to find her youngest daughter.

  She wasn’t with the others. Jody found the unfamiliar house maze-like, and her panic increased with each empty room she checked. Charlie found her in the upstairs study, standing on a chair and bawling her eyes out. ‘Spider,’ she wailed, pointing down at the ground. Jody stamped on it then lifted her daughter down, relieved.

  Gary, Ben and Jenny weren’t far behind. Holly pushed away from Jody and ran over to her dad who scooped her up and swung her around. ‘Don’t worry, you’re safe here, little one. Daddy won’t let anything hurt you.’

  ◆◆◆

  This was turning out to be a peculiarly well-contained apocalypse. Because of the geography of the outbreak, its progress had been slowed almost to a (dead) stop. The effort of the authorities and military had been concentrated on preventing things getting any worse, and the focus of their attention had therefore been those outlying areas on the very edge of the infection. This left Jody, Gary, Charlie and millions of other people effectively stranded. They were in the eye of the hurricane and though it might have been safer elsewhere, getting anywhere else today was going to be nigh on impossible.

  The area around the house was crawling with dead people. The first attack came several hours later.

  Three infected, attracted by a flickering TV screen burning bright on an otherwise dull and overcast day, forced their way through a gap in the vegetation at the bottom of Gary and Charlie’s long garden. They made their way towards the house in silent unison, alone but together, driven by an unspoken collective intent. They scuttled, walked and crawled, making no effort to disguise their ominous approach, yet were completely unnoticed.

  Gary was lying on the living room floor with the kids, playing a board game. Charlie sat next to him and watched, occasionally offering advice and keeping Gary in check. He was a bad loser, even when the stakes were this low.

  Jody was on the other side of the room, staring into space and trying to work out how and when she was going to get home. If she’d even have a home to get back to.

  Ben was the first to notice them. He initially thought it was his eyes playing tricks. He should have been wearing his glasses, but he never did because of that time Stuart at school took the piss out of him and threatened to stamp on them and break them and Mum would have gone crazy if that had happened because they cost her half a month’s money from Dad and... and wait... was that the wind blowing the trees? Was there something in the garden he hadn’t noticed before? Had someone hung some washing on the line?

  They started to come into focus.

  Ben was too scared to say anything in case the monsters outside heard him (even though he knew that was stupid). The words were stuck in his throat and the longer they were there, the harder they were to dislodge.

  ‘Mum...’ he eventually said.

  He glanced over at her but she wasn’t listening. She’d zoned-out. She was tracing patterns in the wallpaper with her eyes, doing everything she could to forget she was trapped in her ex-husband’s huge new house with his fucking drop-dead gorgeous new girlfriend.

  ‘Mum...’ Ben said again.

  He could see them much more clearly now. They didn’t make sense. There was skin where there should have been clothes and bends in their bodies where there should have been none. One had a broken neck and its head was all over to one side but it kept walking like it didn’t matter.

  Another one looked too tall to be real. Its arms and legs seemed to go on forever.

  The last one – the smallest one – was the one that scared him most of all. It was its face... he already knew that when he tried to get to sleep tonight, the grotesque face he currently couldn’t take his eyes off would be staring back at him from the darkness. Huge, hollowed eyes, black as night. A naked torso covered in deep, dark scratches. A twisted mouth which had become a slanted, humourless grin.

  ‘Mum...’ Ben said once more. Louder this time.

  Jody didn’t hear her son, but Gary did. He turned around and saw that the nearest of the infected was almost up against the glass. ‘Fuck!’ he shouted, scrambling to his feet and kicking bits of board game everywhere. Jenny tried to catch the tokens, dice and cards but her little hands hadn’t got anywhere near any of them before the first of the three creatures walked straight into the patio window, making her jump with fright and scaring her half to death. She screamed, and when she screamed, Holly screamed too.

  The girls cowered behind their dad as he retreated deeper into the room.

  On her feet now, filled with a now-familiar sense of overwhelming dread, Jody too backed away. The six of them stood up against the wall together, hiding in plain sight and pinned into position with fear. ‘What the hell do we do?’ Charlie asked, her voice a panicked whisper.

  ‘Just wait,’ Gary suggested. ‘They’ll disappear soon enough.’

  ‘You think?’ Jody said. ‘Are these the first ones you’ve seen? Because I’ve got news for you, they’re not going anywhere.’

  ‘Fucking great.’

  ‘Mind your language, Gary. The kids don’t need to hear it.’

  ‘Don’t tell me what to do. We’re not married anymore, remember.’

  ‘Thank Christ.’

  ‘This isn’t really the best time for a domestic,’ Charlie warned them both.

  ‘You’re right. Sorry,’ Jody mumbled.

  Two of the three things outside were watching the people inside. It was clear from the way they moved their heads – inhuman and animal-like, but definitely interested – that infecting the uninfected was all that mattered. The third of their number was trapped a short distance away from the house, its clothing snagged on a low-hanging fruit tree branch. The smallest creature – the hideous, nightmarish one which Ben still couldn
’t take his eyes off – was trying pointlessly to claw its way through the glass. Its fingers squeaked against the window ceaselessly. When it realised it couldn’t get through, it began to hammer with heavy fists. And when it became clear its fists weren’t going to make any difference, it tried another tactic. The damn thing craned its head back on its shoulders, impossibly far, then butted the window. The noise was nauseating. Jody wasn’t sure whether it was the glass or the infected thing’s skull which would give way first. The door rattled and shook with every vicious impact, and every time it drew its head back, the creature appeared even more deformed than before. Its forehead was becoming flattened: brain and bone being mushed together.

  ‘Are they going to be able to get in?’ Gary asked.

  ‘They won’t, will they?’ said Ben, panicking.

  ‘Depends how long that one’s head lasts,’ Jody answered from a position of zero authority.

  ‘We have to do something,’ Charlie said.

  ‘Like what?’ Gary asked.

  ‘Like get rid of them.’

  ‘She’s right,’ Jody said. ‘It’s our only choice. We can’t risk the kids’ safety.’

  ‘Jesus, what about our safety?’ Gary said.

  Jody lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘That goes without saying. They’re screwed if we are.’

  She wasn’t waiting around. She left the room. Charlie and Gary exchanged glances then followed her out. They found her turfing through the coats hanging up in the hall. She found a long leather ladies coat and put it on and zipped it up. It looked expensive. It was really nice. She hoped Charlie had bought it herself because Gary had never bought her anything like this in the eleven years they were together.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Gary demanded, though the answer was obvious.

  ‘You going to help me or just stand there looking useless?’

  Gary glared at her. ‘Do you really think this is a good idea?’

  ‘No, but I think it’s the only idea I’ve got.’

  ‘We need to think very carefully about this. If we go out there we could end up—’

  His words were truncated by more noise from the room they’d just left. The kids screamed. Was the door becoming loose? Was the glass weakening? Was it about to shatter? He checked on the children and saw that the infected thing’s head had popped like a balloon, but it was still attacking like it hadn’t even noticed. It continued to smack its bloody neck-stump against the glass again and again and again.

  Out in the hall, Charlie grabbed another coat from the rack, keen to help. ‘What are you planning?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ Jody admitted. ‘If I think about it too hard I don’t reckon I’ll be able to go out there.’ She rummaged through a drawer and found a pair of gloves and a hat, then found a scarf and wrapped it around the lower part of her face. ‘Make sure they can’t get to your skin,’ she explained, voice muffled.

  Gary returned. Shamed into action, he put on his own coat and gloves. ‘You stay here and look after the kids, Charlie. I’ll go.’

  He marched to the back door, muttering under his breath. Jody wormed her way in front of him, preventing him from getting out until she’d given him his orders. ‘It’s like they said on TV, okay? They don’t want to kill you, they want to infect you. Make sure you stay covered.’

  She went out and he followed.

  Outside it was cold and windy. The sounds of distant fighting were carried on the breeze. The smell of burning. Far off sirens and screams.

  Gary tried and failed miserably to play down his nervousness. There was nowhere to hide out here. Real and present danger. ‘Can’t believe this is happening,’ he said.

  ‘Well it is. Deal with it.’

  ‘So how do we get rid of them.’

  ‘We ask them to leave.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No, you fucking idiot, not really.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Incapacitate them.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Break their legs. Cut them up.’

  ‘What is this, the fucking Evil Dead?’

  ‘As close as we’re ever going to get to it, yes.’

  ‘What about fire? We could burn them.’

  ‘Good shout. Got anything flammable?’

  ‘Stuff for the barbecue.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘What, the barbecue?’

  ‘No, you arsehole, the lighter fuel.’

  ‘Everything’s in the shed.’

  ‘Great. Where’s the shed?’

  ‘Bottom of the garden.’

  Jody peered down and could just about make out the edge of the shed in the bottom right corner of the garden. It was less than fifty metres away but it felt like miles. ‘Is it locked?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Good.’

  Jody pulled the scarf back up over her mouth. She started to jog along the grass but stopped when she was distracted by movement. The two infected still banging against the patio door hadn’t spotted them, but the rogue one had. He (had it been a he? She thought so, but it was difficult to say with any authority) was heading straight for her.

  At speed.

  Gary grabbed a garden fork he’d left in a flowerbed overnight. The infected was focusing on Jody and she looked past it towards her ex-husband for help, hoping he’d come to her rescue (that’d be a first). Her lack of faith in Gary was well-placed. He was frozen to the spot, feet rooted to the ground like the trees and shrubs he was now doing his best to hide among. He threw the fork over to her like a javelin, shouting ‘here!’ so she knew it was coming.

  Not a bad effort. It landed a metre or so in front of her feet.

  The infected’s mode of movement changed. It appeared almost insect-like now, on all fours and face up, scuttling. And then it launched itself into the air. Jody grabbed the handle of the garden fork and lifted its sharp tines skyward, just in the nick of time. The creature landed on top of it and was skewered through the groin.

  Jody dropped the fork and stepped away.

  The infected monster still fought, still tried to scratch at her, but it was struggling to work out why it could no longer get about with the same degree of freedom as before. It was like having an inflexible extra leg, an unwanted extension. Such was its angle that whenever it tried to take a step forward, the handle of the fork dug into the ground and pivoted the whole body around, at the same time driving the spikes deeper into its diseased flesh.

  Gary was already in the shed. Jody followed him into the cluttered little wooden building. She pulled her scarf down to berate him. ‘This place is a fucking pigsty.’

  ‘You can stop nagging me now,’ he said as he began to ferret through a mountain of crap. ‘We’re divorced, remember? I’ve got Charlie to moan at me now.’

  ‘So I guess there’s still plenty to moan about then?’

  ‘Shut up, Jody,’ he said, and he passed two bottles of barbecue lighter fluid to her, carrying two more himself.

  ‘Why so many?’

  ‘Because we have – we had – a lot of barbecues. We’re not all bitter and twisted and antisocial like you.’

  ‘I’m not antisocial. Some of us have responsibilities.’

  ‘We both have responsibilities, now let’s get this over with and get back inside.’

  ‘Fine. You got a match?’

  He scavenged about on another cobwebby shelf and found a barbecue lighter: a long, bizarre-looking gas-fuelled thing like a cigarette lighter with a barrel. ‘This’ll do it.’

  ‘Hardly standard zombie-killing kit, is it?’

  He laughed at that. Was he laughing with her or at her? She wasn’t sure. ‘Zombies,’ he repeated, shaking his head.

  ‘Well what else are we supposed to call them?’ she asked as she squeezed past him to get back outside. ‘They’re dead and they’re infected and they want to kill us. Therefore, they’re zombies.’

  ‘You really could turn anything into an argument.’

  ‘Tha
t’s because your default setting is to pick holes in everything I say.’

  He was about to correct her, but she’d already gone. She was halfway up the garden, heading for the impaled creature which was on its back now, unable to get up. She doused it with lighter fluid then stepped back and watched with satisfaction as Gary lit it up. Typical bloke, she thought, always got to be in control of the fire.

  Between them they then drenched the figures at the window from behind with the flammable liquid, Jody tried gesturing to the kids and Charlie to avert their gaze, but the frantic, random movements of the infected corpses got in the way. The dumb things didn’t notice the liquid splashing against their backs, didn’t react at all. They didn’t react when Gary lit them up like scarecrows either. The one that still had a head did eventually turn around, though, swivelling on leaden legs. It came towards Jody but lost its footing as flames overwhelmed it. It picked itself back up again, but Jody stood her ground, ready to repel its attack with a melon-sized rock taken from a nearby overgrown rockery. She shifted position awkwardly as she waited for it to reach her and she lifted the rock high, ready to bring it crashing down on the back of the abhorrent thing’s head.

  It didn’t get that far.

  Consumed by billowing flames, the monster dropped to its knees then fell flat. Jody watched the fire for a while longer, hypnotised by the bright light and unexpectedly comforting heat.

  When she looked up, she realised it was getting dark. It was spitting with rain, too.

  When she looked up, she realised she was alone. Gary was back inside with Charlie and the kids. Her kids.

  ◆◆◆

  The children were alternately scared and excited. Being here was an adventure. Most importantly, they were with Dad. The time they spent with him had been at a premium since he and Mum had had that big falling out after the Christmas before last. Being with him now helped them block out everything else that was happening.

  In some ways the three adults were more scared than the kids. Emotions, grudges and regrets had been put to one side and temporarily forgotten; conveniently shelved until normality returned. If normality returned. But cabin fever was setting in, and the atmosphere frequently became fractious. ‘You don’t really need to stay here, you know,’ Gary said, watching his ex-wife across the kitchen table.