"There's something I’ve wanted to know." I asked as we sat in Bella Italia awaiting our food. "What made you step up and risk your life to save me? I mean, nobody else did anything, except for you. I'd probably be dead now if you were like all the others and did nothing."
“I’d watched Bloodsport the night before, so I thought I could take them." She said with a twinkle in her eye. I laughed and she took a sip from her coke. "I didn't do anything out of the ordinary. It says a lot about the world today that it takes a girl to stand up like a man, when all the boys stood around and did nothing."
"You're right!"
"I'm not sure I want to live in a world like that." As she looked at me, I wondered if I had it in me to do what she did. Or if when the time came, would I be like all the others and do nothing when somebody needed help?
"What does it say when people need to bring a knife to school to feel like a man? In actual fact, kids that do that are just kids, and will always be kids."
We strolled to the cathedral and sat on the bench that faced the magnificent building. I squeezed her hand.
"You do that a lot don't you?" She asked me.
"Do what?"
"You're always squeezing my hand."
“Oh, I hadn't noticed.”
"I don't mind it, it's your thing. Everybody has little things about them that makes them unique."
We sat and faced the cathedral for what seemed liked hours. As it began to get dark, we shared our first kiss.
7
I could now see more clearly because the submissive one had loosened his grip. There were five bloodied attackers, three of which were feeding on Jerome's twitching body. The yellow one picked up his loot from the Apple store then tried to run through the gap formed between the two deranged freaks. But they reached out and clung to him. He dragged them along for several meters under his momentum before their weight brought him to a stop. They pulled him to the ground, still holding his loot. "Help, help!" He shouted as he tried to fend them off.
"If you get off me, we can make a run for it." I said, fully expecting the submissive one to see sense. He was still on top of me and had my head locked in his arm. However, it was the blood gushing from my leg that caused me the most concern. He released me from the headlock, but only so he could throttle me. He was trying to finish me off quickly so he could make a run for it, but in doing so he’d released my arms and given me room to strike back.
I hit him in the face.
He choked me even harder.
His friend still called for help. Why was killing me more important than saving his friend?
I hit him again and he continued to choke me. I was losing consciousness. Then he was yanked violently backwards.
"Help, help!" He cried out to me as his eye was bitten out from his face.
I had my own problems. One of the attackers was coming for me. He wore cycling shorts and had a crash helmet on. He was slow and I had plenty of time to reach over for the knife that Jerome had dropped. He lunged for me and I thrust the blade into his eye - He flopped down like a dead fish as thick red blood oozed from the gaping hole I’d created, mixing with my own blood on the tiles.
I pulled myself up by using the handle on the Apple store door. I tried to walk but the pain shot up through my body. I took off my jacket and tied it as tightly as I could around my thigh. I'd seen people do this many times on TV and it always seemed to work. It still hurt but at least I had peace of mind knowing the bleeding would slow down.
I used the wall to hold myself up and hopped on my good leg, heading away from the carnage and towards safety. I knew I was dying but I didn't want to die in a puddle of my own blood near those monsters I'd left behind. I knew the path would be full of danger and so I decided on finding a weapon. Screams still resounded throughout the centre, but most of it was coming from the lower level. Fortunately, most of the stores were opened up, all thanks to the looters, but unfortunately, many of those same stores still had looters ransacking them. Sports Direct was right ahead of me, but to get there I’d have to let go of the wall. Thankfully a hand rail stretched toward Sports Direct, as long as I could get to the centre of the concourse.
I let go of the wall and hopped toward the rails. The store teamed with looters. It was a great place to go looting, since the store kept an abundance of backpacks. I reached the store and checked behind me. I’d left a trail of blood, but it was intermittent, my jeans were soaked and I felt faint.
I was faced by six guys wielding baseball bats. One of them spoke to me. "Whoa we got one of them zombies.” He approached with his bat primed ready for the strike.
My heart leapt. "Easy, easy, I'm not one of them, I'm normal, I'm normal!" My voice was shrill and it took a lot of effort to shout out.
"Yeah, how do we know that?" His bat was still primed and I thought he'd still strike me regardless. The guy must have been no older than eighteen and his mates were all of similar age.
"Do I look like one of them?" I regretted saying that as soon as I said it for I'm sure I probably did.
"Yes you do!"
"Look, I just came here for a weapon, I don't want any trouble." I held myself up using a shelf containing dumbbell plates.
"Hey, I don't think he"s a zombie." One of his friends arrived but I still felt threatened.
"What you got in your pockets?" The first guy asked.
"What? You've got free run of the entire Arndale Centre and you're wondering what’s in my pockets?" My hand grasped a 5kg dumbbell plate, which I prayed I wouldn't need.
"Hey, just leave him man, we've got the entire store." The second guy tried to drag his friend away.
"Nah, man. I want what’s in his pockets!"
“I've got forty quid, you can have it if you give me that bat." I thought this would allow him to save face while still giving me a weapon. Whether the money would still be worth anything tomorrow was debatable and it would be no use to me after he cracked my skull with the bat or else bled to death waiting.
He hesitated. "Sure, hand it over then."
We made the exchange and I was happy I didn't have to stove his face in with a dumbbell plate.
I made my way along the concourse, trying to find a way out of the centre. The bat was handy because it doubled as a walking stick.
The upper level was still sparse of people, all except for a traffic warden with a blade sticking out from his ribs. It was just him between myself and the Aldi store, through which I knew I could exit out onto Market Street.
He staggered toward me. Usually I’d be surprised to see such a person walking around with apparent impunity in the centre of Manchester, but today seemed to be different to most days. It didn't really occur to me that this guy must be in pain, having what turned out to be a crowbar wedged in his chest, for there was a look of total apathy on his face. Regardless, I committed my second murder of the day by cracking his skull clean open. I felt the shock from the bat reverberate up to my shoulder, the sound was sickening.
The Aldi store was being looted. Of course the main activity was on the alcohol aisle, with particular attention being paid to the hard liquor. Now I was the one who couldn't tell who was normal and who was deranged as I made my way by a group of homeless men gathering up a stash of whisky.
I exited the store and found myself outside on an eerily silent Market Street. I assumed the stores up and down the street would be filled with looters, but where were the deranged freaks? I took advantage of the lull, heading downhill and I managed to find a rhythm using the baseball bat and my one good leg. I made good time, but it would still take ten minutes at this pace to get where I needed to be.
An abandoned battery powered road sweeper lay not too far away. I smiled at the memory of seeing a pigeon being sucked up by one of those things. When I arrived at the door, I found it wasn't actually abandoned, but had a corpse sitting inside. Its head leant against the steering wheel, its body still wearing a high visibility jacket. I opened the door and jabbed the corpse
with my bat. I jabbed it again, harder and I was satisfied it was dead. I climbed into the cabin and shut the door and that was when it turned its head and tried to bite my face. The shock of the sudden movement of this creature sent pain rushing through my entire body, but it woke me from my complacency. There was no room to swing the bat within the confines of the cabin and it had its hands around my head pulling me towards its mouth. His unnaturally wide opened mouth was now only inches from my nose. He bit down in anticipation, his breath smelt more foul than anything I'd ever experienced. I had to use all my strength to keep the equilibrium yet still he inched forward. I had to try and find the door handle, but I had no idea where it was on the inside of the cabin and besides, I was facing the wrong way. The bat was still on my lap and I knew I had to release one of my hands from his throat in order to grab it. This move would risk my life, so I had to be quick. I released my right hand and grabbed the bat half way up the barrel. I rammed it hard in its opened mouth. Its lack of coordination had fooled it into assuming the bat was in fact something else, perhaps food and he bit down hard against the aluminium. I heard the distinct crack of several teeth shattering in unison. I felt teeth fragments rain down on my chest. I ran my hands down the length of the bat towards the handle and jabbed it forward as hard as I could. The freak still had its mouth wrapped around the bat as I shoved the back of its head against the side of the cabin. Again and again, I bashed its face until I could no longer feel any resistance. I opened the door and pushed it out the cabin. Maybe I should have walked, I thought. But the vehicle was mine now.
I glared at the controls and realised I'd never driven a vehicle in my entire life. But how hard could an electric road sweeper be? There was no clutch and no gears, it was effectively an automatic. The keys were in the ignition and the engine whizzed to life when I turned them. I pressed my foot down on the accelerator and the vehicle moved forward more smoothly than I could have ever hoped for. I played around with some of the other buttons, but most of them simply operated the giant sweepers at either side of the vehicle.
I rumbled down the cobbles of Market Street feeling faint due to my loss of blood. But at least now I was making good ground. I reached the crossroads at the bottom, where the hotdog vendor I used to buy from was lying on the ground with his head split open, brain matter spread across the floor.
I turned right down Corporation Street, the cathedral lurked large in the distance. If there was anywhere I hoped Alice would be, it was there.
Blackness.
8
I came to just as the road sweeper hit a lamppost. The front was wrapped around it and pulling the gear lever down to reverse only made a disgusting smell and a loud noise. Unfortunately I’d alerted a group of freaks that now, were dragging themselves in my direction.
I must have fainted due to blood loss. But I was so close, perhaps a hundred metres from the cathedral, I could see it.
The freaks were close now. I opened the cabin door and grabbed my bat. I jumped out from the cabin.
My legs gave way.
I used the bat to support my return to an upright position, but the first two freaks were here. I was confronted by a woman in a McDonald’s outfit and a middle aged mechanic covered in oil. They grabbed an arm each, preventing me from swinging the bat. The McDonalds employee wrapped her jaw around my forearm and bit down. She tore away my flesh and I screamed out in agony. My arm was free and I swung the bat against the cranium of the mechanic. He hit the floor. I swung the bat against the girl eating part of my arm. I hit her three more times for good measure. My arm was spraying blood over my shirt, the pain even worse than my leg.
I stumbled towards the cathedral, my site was blurred. I pictured Alice and how she had changed my life these last two weeks. I wished we’d been allowed more time together, but I consoled myself in the knowledge that at least I had gotten to know her for a short while.
I was close to the cathedral, perhaps 50 metres but I was being pursued by three more freaks. I turned around and waited for the leader, a security guard from the Arndale Centre. I swung the bat and cracked his skull but it took a lot of effort and the other two had gained ground in the process. I turned back and saw more freaks emerging from the sides, dozens of them.
I dropped the bat as I figured I could make faster progress without it, the adrenaline had dulled the pain from my bloodied leg.
I guessed I was only 30 metres from the cathedral, though it was only a blur in the foreground. My saliva tasted like salt. The shape of another freak outlined itself in front. I'd have to take it down with my fists.
"Tom, Tom!" I heard the voice as she threw an arm around my back.
"Alice?" I couldn't believe it. I could feel Alice, even if I couldn't see her. I wrapped my arm over her shoulder and she supported my weight as we stumbled toward the cathedral. "How far are we?"
"Close, 20 metres! We can make it."
Finger nails dug into my back and then Alice let out a shriek. I could sense their presence, I could smell and hear them, the mindless noise they were making.
Alice screamed, her body juddered. I felt hands around my ankle. I could no longer move, weighed down by countless demons then I felt the bite on my Achilles tendon. Alice took more of my weight. But we were close now.
Fingers dug into my neck but they weren’t taking this from us. Alice screamed again and I knew she would not be in pain for much longer.
We reached our special bench and collapsed into it.
But there were a dozen freaks descending on us and between us, tearing into us, separating us.
I reached through the marauding mass and I felt a hand take hold of mine.
I squeezed it and she squeezed me back.
The Village Bake Sale
"Morning Mrs. Fenwick," said Arthur as he arrived at the first stall. He surveyed the abundance of delectables being placed on display which the old dear had evidently laboured away on. "Those marzipan cupcakes look absolutely incredible. If only I wasn’t watching my figure."
"Nonsense Arthur, one won’t do you any harm and there’s nothing wrong with your figure." Mrs Fenwick brought out another tray of cupcakes, these ones covered in sprinkles.
“You’re a wicked woman, Mrs Fenwick.” He winked at her and scanned the rest of the St. Mary’s churchyard where two dozen stalls were being hastily constructed for the day’s event.
Arthur Cartwright was the community organiser for the tiny village of Burley-in-Wharfedale, a picturesque settlement in this delightful area of Yorkshire. The village was centuries old surrounded by green belt, an idyllic place to spend your retirement, the kind of place nobody arrived at accidentally. It was the residents however that made Burley-in-Wharfedale what it was. The people were friendly, too friendly in fact, with the kind of community spirit you could only find in a place where the people made a genuine effort. That’s why people moved here, because they longed for the old ways of community and spirit.
Today was the St. Mary’s church annual bake sale. The highlight of the village calendar was here and understandably, Arthur was on tenterhooks, hoping for a successful event. He looked at his watch - Twenty minutes until all hell broke loose and there were still cars parked on the church lawn whilst people unloaded contents to place on stalls. We were cutting it a little fine this year. Although many of the stall holders were frantically working against the clock, there was still that rare buzz in the air that only came around for the annual bake sale. Arthur looked to the church gate where the first of the villagers were already gathering in anticipation.
After the success of last year’s event, this year’s bake sale was now even grander. The bouncy castle was evidence of that and Arthur looked on with pride at local boy Harry Turner, watching with interest the castle slowly inflating and rising in the air. There wasn’t much time for small talk and there were always a million last minute things to do while the clock was ticking, but what the heck, this day came but once a year and Arthur wanted to enjoy it. "How did your gra
des go, young man? Did you get what you needed?"
"I needed two E’s and an F so I could get into North Rochdale Metropolitan Woodwork College and I couldn’t even get that, Mr Cartwright." Harry stuck out his bottom lip and turned back to the bouncy castle.
"Oh dear, well if there’s anything I can do for you, perhaps put a word in with the college then I will, I know you’re a good lad."
Fifteen minutes to go. People were still setting up their stalls and Arthur wished they’d hurry up. It wouldn’t reflect very well on him, the church or indeed the entire community if the cakes weren’t lined up in a nice orderly fashion, in straight rows with price tags when the rush commenced. Oh dear, but stall number 14 hadn’t even unloaded their goodies from the car boot. Arthur would pop over to them and remind them that time was of the essence.
It was crucial everything went well this year for the proceeds were going towards repairs for the church roof. Ever since thieves stole lead and copper from the porch tower, kicking off slates in the process, St. Mary’s had been inundated with flooding every time it rained. This had already ruined four Sunday services, two christenings and a wedding. If the roof wasn’t fixed and quick, then nobody knew what the future for the beloved church would be. Arthur wished once again that stall number 14 would get a move on and right then, just like magic, an old couple emerged from their vehicle with a tray each of what Arthur presumed to be some kind of a cupcake with smiley animal faces on them. The kids would love those. "They look delicious. Are you all ready to go?"
"We had a bit of an accident in the car, sharp bends on the way here." The old lady revealed a tray of broken cupcakes with animal shaped rice paper remaining on only a few still intact.
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