Kay was going to die; what would I do without her?
Misfit and Charlotte joined us and the four of us stood silently around Kay’s bed, our heads bowed. Every now and then I glanced at one of the others for support, and in the light from a gas lamp I could see tears streaming down their cheeks.
‘Damn it, Kay,’ I said after a while. ‘Don’t fucking leave us. There are zombies that need slaying and it won’t be any fun without you!’
2pm
During our vigil, and after a last-ditch attempt with plenty of cold compresses made with icy water from the water butt outside, Kay’s fever broke in the early hours of this morning. Right at the point where we didn’t think she could get any hotter without setting fire to her sheets, right when we thought her ragged breathing would stop and her chest would cease to move, a sweat broke out on her forehead, a sign that her body’s thermostat had begun to regulate itself again. By 9am her temperature was down to 103 degrees and just before I came downstairs for a rest and to eat some breakfast, it had gone down to 102.
It turns out that between the four of us we had actually succeeded in getting enough antibiotics down her neck in order for them to kick in and fight the infection. The wound on her neck still looks gory and inflamed but we’re keeping it clean and allowing it to get some air between dressing changes and it definitely isn’t as putrid as it was.
Misfit came into the kitchen as I ate dry, stale Cheerios from the packet. He pulled out a chair and sat down next to me at the pine table. I offered him the Cheerios and he took it from me, plunging his hand inside and grabbing a handful of little O’s.
‘I knew she wasn’t a quitter,’ said Misfit.
‘But… but do you think she tried? Tried to quit…’
‘What, cos of what happened to Sean?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Yep, I was thinking that. But, you know, she can’t escape the fact that that isn’t who she is. I guess her body had the final say and it came back fighting.’
‘Do you ever think it’s safer not to have feelings for anyone?’ I asked, my eyes locking into his.
Misfit put the cereal box down and placed the palms of his hands either side of my face. ‘No,’ he said simply. ‘You may as well be dead in that case.’
As I stared into Misfit’s eyes, I had the strangest sensation that someone had filled my lungs with helium and I was floating off, out of this atmosphere like a balloon. That was until I heard a little voice say, ‘Um guys…’ Misfit’s hands fell from me and I glanced to my right to see Charlotte standing in the doorway. ‘Sorry,’ she continued, her cheeks reddening. ‘I thought you’d like to know that Kay’s stable.’
‘Yes, of course. Thanks, Charlotte,’ I said.
‘Clay’s with her, so I’m going to grab a bit more sleep.’
‘Sure. Rest up,’ I said to her, my lungs having popped and my feet having grounded. I watched as she turned and disappeared into the hallway. I turned back to Misfit. ‘I think I could do with shutting my eyes for a bit.’
Misfit grabbed my hand and pulled me up onto my feet. He led me through the kitchen, across the hall and into the living room where I imagined he would shove me up the stairs and into the room I share with Charlotte. Instead, he pulled me to the brown leather sofa at the back of the room.
‘Lay down,’ he said. I did as I was told, lying with my head on a pale blue cushion. Misfit lay next to me, putting one arm under my neck and around my shoulders and the other around my waist. I snuggled into his chest and in the comfort of his warm embrace, I fell asleep.
6pm
We slept for a few hours, until we were woken by Clay stomping through the living room, his boots pounding the wooden floorboards.
‘Oh sorry,’ he said as me and Misfit poked our bleary-eyed heads up to see what the racket was. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’
Grumpy, I gritted my teeth but even so the words, ‘Yeah, right’, slipped through.
‘Huh?’ said Clay.
‘Nothing,’ I mumbled.
‘How’s Kay?’ asked Misfit as he sat up.
‘Her temperature’s down to 101 degrees. She’s conscious, and she’s drinking plenty of water. She’s doing OK.’
‘That’s great news,’ I said, sitting next to Misfit. ‘Thanks Clay. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.’
‘S’alright. My mum was a nurse.’ Clay wandered over and sat on an armchair across from me and Misfit. ‘Any time me or one of my sisters got sick, it was like Mum would go into full work mode. I learned a lot from watching her. But,’ Clay shrugged, ‘it doesn’t feel like enough.’
‘It was enough. More than enough. You did great, and lucky for Kay you did,’ I said. ‘So she’s definitely going to be OK?’
‘Yeah, defo… totally over the worst of it.’
‘How long before we can move on again?’ I asked.
‘I know you want to get going as soon as, Soph, but give her a few days, hey? Kay needs to get her strength back, like,’ said Clay. ‘I know it must be tough not knowing what’s happened to your family,’ he added after a moment.
I cast my eyes down to my grubby socks. ‘Yep.’ I glanced up and fixed my eyes on Clay’s. ‘But no worse than knowing what happened to them. Not worse, just different.’
‘You got that right,’ he said with a small, sad smile and a nod of his head.
‘Yeah, when the outbreak kicked off,’ began Misfit, looking down at his lap, ‘my stepdad ordered us into the car. He wouldn’t even give us time to pack anything. He said we’d be better off getting out of the town and hiding up in the countryside where there were less people – meaning, less zombies. Good plan, only, he was too busy swigging on the bottle of whisky in his hand to notice that we driven into a gridlocked street. He was going too fast and slammed into the back of a stopped car. Faye, who’d been in my mum’s arms and not strapped in, she… she went straight out the windscreen. Mum dived out the car. But there were zombies and… I had my knife and I flung the car door open and stabbed each and every zombie that took a bite out of my mum and sister.
‘Afterwards, I looked at the car to see Caine – he’d crawled into the back, and was watching the whole thing from behind the front seat. He didn’t try and help. He didn’t do anything. I know what happened to my family – I stabbed my mum and my kid sister through the head and I eventually got the pleasure of shooting my stepdad through the chest.’
I placed my hand on Misfit’s knee and squeezed. There was nothing I could say to that. But I knew then that knowing what had happened to your family was definitely worse than not knowing.
11.30pm
I’m in bed. Charlotte is next to me. Kay was well enough to sit up and drink a little broth Misfit made with a rabbit he caught in the fields out the back. We made a fire in the back garden and cooked it out there. Fresh cooked food is always preferable to cold, stale goods that have been sitting in a cupboard or on a supermarket shelf for over a year at least. She still isn’t talking much but one step at a time and all that. At least she doesn’t need constant monitoring now, so we can all get to sleep at night.
Hopefully it won’t be long before we’re on the road again.
December 30, 9am
We’re all bleary-eyed after what happened in the early hours of this morning. It started when me and Charlotte were woken up by the sound of shouting.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Charlotte as the pair of us sat bolt upright in bed.
I held my breath, waiting to see if the shouting would start up again. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before I heard, ‘I SAID, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?’ It was Kay’s voice, and it was coming from her bedroom.
Me and Charlotte darted out of bed and, in my case wearing nothing but a t-shirt and my pants, sprinted across the landing. Misfit and Clay were already in Kay’s room by the time we got there. They were standing just inside the doorway, their mouths and eyes wide, and me and Charlotte almost ploughed into them in our haste. There, further in the room
and standing over Kay was a figure.
In the light from the gas lamp Clay was holding, I could see it was a woman with close cropped greying hair. She wore black, one piece motorcycle leathers and – everyone’s favourite zombie apocalypse shoe of choice – black four inch spike heeled boots. She would have looked like Cat Woman’s middle-aged mother if it hadn’t have been for the purple wire-framed glasses on her nose. All I could see of Kay was her head poking out from the quilt. She didn’t dare move, what with the woman’s knife positioned right between her eyes.
‘Whoa put the knife down, hey?’ said Clay, his hand extended towards the stranger. ‘Then we can talk about this.’
‘Talk about this?’ I said. ‘Nothing to talk about other than, who the fuck are you?’ I said, repeating Kay’s reasonable question that was still to be answered. ‘Oh and get the fuck away from my friend and out of our house!’
‘She’s bitten,’ said the woman, ignoring me. ‘She needs dealing with.’ She raised her knife, ready to strike.
‘Whoa!’ I yelled, hoping my exclamation would be enough to halt her blade as I knew I couldn’t get across the room in time to tackle her.
The woman’s eyes flicked in my direction just long enough for Kay to grab her wrist and push her arm upwards. Misfit rushed in and grasped the woman around the waist and he pulled her away from the bed. The woman wriggled furiously in Misfit’s grip and I worried she would reach back and stab him. Clay lunged towards the pair of them but the woman swung the knife at him. While she was preoccupied with Clay, Kay dragged herself from under the covers. On unsteady feet she grabbed the wrist of the woman’s knife arm. Clay grabbed her free wrist to prevent her from batting Kay away, while Kay prised the knife from her hand. She turned the blade so that it pointed at the woman’s chin. ‘Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?’ she said, and I was confident we’d get an answer this time.
‘For god’s sake, how have you people managed to survive this long? Haven’t you learnt anything? She’s bitten! She’ll turn and she’ll rip–’
‘Let me stop you there.’ The woman had been straining, trying to pull herself free from Misfit and Clay while she spoke, but at my interruption, she stopped and glared at me, though her body remained tense in Misfit’s arms. Clay let go of her wrist now that she had calmed down. ‘Now, I understand that the days of social media are gone,’ I continued. ‘There are no news reports on TV so, chances are, you have no idea what a Human Zombie is.’ I approached the woman so that I stood alongside the blade that Kay held at her throat. ‘I can’t really be bothered to explain. We’ve all just lived through the whole ordeal and it wasn’t fun. But all you need to know is that bite is a human bite not a zombie bite. She’s not infected with the zombie virus. But – just for your information – even if it was a zombie bite, she’s our friend, our responsibility, and you – whoever the fuck you are – have no right to burst in our place in the middle of the night and put a blade through anyone’s brain. You are not part of this group. You can do one!’
‘You expect me to believe that’s not a zombie bite,’ said the woman, staring me down. ‘Look at her; she can hardly stand up she’s so sick. The wound is a putrid mess. She’s infected, alright.’
‘The wound became infected – regular infected, I mean, like,’ said Clay. ‘She didn’t take the antibiotics she needed. But there’s no zombie virus in her body, just your average, everyday bacteria.’
‘So, crazy-leather-clad-night-time-zombie-hunting-warrior-woman there is nothing for you here!’ I said.
‘You’re not infected?’ The woman spoke directly to Kay who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, looking pale and small.
‘That’s pretty much the gist of what we’ve been telling you, fucktard,’ she said in laboured breath while she rested the knife on the bed beside her.
The woman’s body relaxed in Misfit’s grip and after a moment, realising the threat had past, he released her. She stood looking from each of us in turn, her gaze settling on Kay.
‘You’re not infected.’ It had been a statement, not a question and afterwards, she sagged and would have crumpled to the floor if Misfit hadn’t caught her beneath her leather-clad arms. He guided her to the bed where she perched next to Kay. The woman glanced at her. ‘I would’ve killed you. If these people hadn’t of come when they did, I would’ve killed you.’
‘You reckon?’ said Kay. ‘You’d have to get up earlier than that to kill me in my bed.’
‘She’s right,’ I said. ‘Even on her sick bed she would have whipped your arse. So, who are you?’
‘My name… my name is… Elaine but no one has called me by my name for what feels like a very long time. No one’s asked my name in a very long time,’ she said with a resigned smile.
‘You’re alone?’
‘Yes.’
‘How long have you been on your own?’
Elaine thought for a while. ‘During the outbreak?’
‘Well, whenever.’
‘Erm, well… about ten…’ Elaine pursed her lips and put her head to the side as though thinking hard,’ yeah, ten years, I’d say.’
‘Ten years?’ I said, stunned.
‘And that’s how long it’s been since anyone called me by my real name.’
‘I don’t get ya, love,’ said Clay.
‘Pre-outbreak, people called me Suki, when they called me anything at all. Post-outbreak, well, no one’s really stuck around… But in my head, I like to call myself The Cleanser.’
‘The Cleanser?’ I repeated.
‘If I was a super hero, my super hero name would be The Cleanser,’ said Elaine.
‘Um… Ok then,’ I said. ‘So, Elaine, what are you doing in our current hideout?’
‘I saw your car out front last night when I did my rounds, so I knew there were some new people in the village and I wanted to check you out – to make sure you weren’t bringing the infection from wherever it is you came from. When I found your friend, here, with a bandaged up neck and not looking too bright, I figured she was infected.’
‘So as The Cleanser it’s your job to cleanse the infection?’ I said.
‘I’m just being proactive. I have a target – at least thirty zombies a day, every day. If I can’t find them where I am, I move on. I’ve been in Bethersden for a few weeks. I was about to move on when I spotted your car.’
‘I’m not being funny, love, but you missed a few,’ said Clay.
‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ I said, knowing he meant the ones we’d run into at the bungalow. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Fighting a bit of a losing battle, aren’t you?’ said Kay.
‘I know I’m only one woman and thirty zombies a day makes only the slightest dent, hardly noticeable, really. But it’s all I can do. And I do it relentlessly. It’s how I can gain some control over my life and this nightmare. And, you know what I’ve noticed?’ Elaine glanced around at us but no one spoke. I’m not sure any of us cared what Elaine, the nutter, had noticed. ‘The zombies are getting weaker. I think they only have a certain life – or death – span. Even if they eat – and there is less and less fresh meat for them now that there aren’t so many survivors – they’re decomposing. Their bodies are rotting and getting weaker and weaker.’
‘You think the zombies will die off, so to speak?’ said Clay.
‘Yes, I do,’ said Elaine. ‘I’m not sure how long it will take – another year or so, maybe – but they will die off. We, as the last of the humans, have a duty: number one, not to get bitten and prolong the problem and, number two, to kill as many of them as we can each and every day to speed up the outcome.’
‘One of the ways I managed to stay a human is that I don’t go looking for trouble,’ I said. ‘I only kill when I need to kill. I have a problem with killing for killing’s sake.’
‘And it’s a bloody stupid idea,’ added Kay. ‘Don’t forget that.’
I stifled a giggle at Kay’s comment.
‘You might think t
hat now but you’ll learn,’ said Elaine. ‘And I refuse to give up just because something looks impossible.’
‘That’s a great outlook, sweetie,’ said Charlotte, tucking her long curly hair behind her ears and practically skipping across the room to take one of Elaine’s hands and give it an encouraging squeeze.
‘And if you think I enjoy it,’ said Elaine, looking at me. ‘You’re wrong. I want to make the world a safe place for the last of the humans so we can have the chance to breed and to repopulate and reclaim our world. It might be baby steps but it’s all I can do on my own.’
‘Yeah, fair enough,’ I said. ‘But you can’t take control of other’s lives in order to do it. Infected or not, it would have been our call.’
‘Right, this has all been enlightening and as much as I like randomness,’ began Kay, ‘the excitement of super heroes trying to murder me in my sleep has done me in. So could you all fuck off!’
The sun had risen enough that its weak winter rays filtered through the windows and its light competed with the gas lamp I carried down to the living room. I turned the lamp off to conserve its energy and I placed it on the sideboard beside the sofa. I was keen to herd Elaine out the door as soon as possible but she hung back at the bottom of the stairs so, too tired to stand, I perched against the low back of the sofa. I never understood why anyone would want one of those sofas with a low back. What do you rest your head against while watching TV? Give me a slumpy high backed sofa any day. Comfort over style for me, all the way.
I gazed at Elaine and bit my lip. Despite her good intentions, there was something I didn’t like about her. ‘You got far to go?’ I asked her after a moment, hoping to encourage her on her way.
‘I’m staying in a flat over the post office in the village,’ she replied, her knife in hand as she prepared to head out. ‘I’ve been spending a lot of my time in Ashford, cleansing. But I make it a habit to stay out of big towns at night.’
Blog of the Dead (Book 3): Lost Page 3
