by G G Garcia
Paul took a step towards Mel and held out his hand. He helped the owner of the house up onto his feet and a shocked Melvin Leslie looked down onto the corpse. He could see the steak knife sticking out of the side of its head where Paul had driven the blade.
Melvin gazed down at the body, panting hard, and trying to get his breath back. Something was noticed by Melvin’s eyes, and he pointed at the crotch area of the male’s trousers. There was a large wet patch and this confused Melvin. “Has he…?”
“Pissed himself?” Paul nodded the once, knowing exactly what Melvin was referring to. “Remember they’re still human, but have lost some of their human qualities.”
“So they still piss and shit, but don’t go to the bathroom to do it?”
Paul managed a smile at Mel’s comment and said, “It certainly appears so.”
Mel looked over to the kitchen window, relieved that he hadn’t smashed it with the hammer, and could see Gail and his wife, with the latter shaking her head.
Mel covered his mouth and snarled under his breath, “What’s she shaking her head at?” He then looked over his shoulder and could see Paul pulling the knife out of the dead male.
“Shall we leave the body here?” Paul called over.
“We’ll move it another time,” Mel said. “It’s not going anywhere.”
“Okay."
“Oh,” Mel stopped walking and smiled at Paul. “Thanks for that. I made a right arse of that, didn’t I?”
Paul snickered and placed his arm around Melvin’s shoulder, knowing that the man was beating himself up over the incident that could have turned out disastrous. “It was a good effort.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
Mel stopped walking, Paul took his arm away, and watched as Mel Leslie bent over and picked up the hammer that had flown out of his hand and nearly put the kitchen window through. Both males opened the back door and entered the kitchen. Paul shut the door behind him and locked it with the key that was already in the door.
Melvin took in a deep breath, expecting a verbal lashing from his wife. And that was exactly what he got.
“Well, you made a right twat of that, didn’t you?” Lisa scoffed. “Why I married you, I’ll never know. You’re about as much use as an ejector seat on a helicopter.”
“Leave him alone, Lisa.” Gail came to his defence, before Paul had a chance. “This is a crazy time we’re living in. I thought he was quite brave.”
“He did okay,” said Paul. “Killin’ one of them isn’t easy. The fact that he had the balls to go out there in the first place…”
“Still,” Lisa laughed. “What a fucking idiot.”
Mel glared at his wife, desperate to say something, but he changed his mind. He shook his head and headed down the hall.
“Give him a break,” Paul said to Lisa, out of earshot from a dejected Mel.
“He’s fucking hopeless,” she snapped. “Whatever he’s done in life, he fails.”
“Well, next time an IO pops up, ya go out there and we’ll see how ya get on.”
“Don’t speak to me like that, you little piss stain.” Lisa took a step forwards and glared at Paul Newbold, whilst an embarrassed Gail stayed in the corner with her head down. “I can have you thrown out of here.”
“Try it,” said Paul. “Besides, how many of ya three have collectively killed those things since this has kicked off?” There was a silence, so Paul decided to provide the answer. “None. Ya think getting rid of me is goin’ to be a good move?”
“You’ll be going eventually, anyway.”
“True.”
Lisa looked down the hallway and could see that her husband had gone, and was now making his way up to the first floor. Maybe I was too harsh on him, she thought. And maybe my male guest also has a point.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Demi spoke. She watched as Tony Willetts went around the bar and helped himself to a pint of lager.
“We need to have some perks, if we’re stuck in this pub,” he laughed. “We can’t do anything for our families. We have no car outside, and the power is out. Might as well try and have some fun in such a bad situation.”
Demi scratched at her long brown curls and said, “I don’t know. John and his family have only been away half an hour, and you’re already drinking his profits.”
“It’s just a couple of drinks. Relax.”
“It seems wrong.”
Tony looked over at Demi with a grin, and asked her, “What’s your tipple?”
Demi hunched her shoulders and said, “I quite like white wine.”
Tony placed a wine glass on the bar and then slammed a bottle of white from the fridge. He unscrewed the bottle and poured her a large glass.
Demi remained where she was and he beckoned her to walk over. Tony said with sarcasm, “It’s not going to drink itself. You need to come over and pick the glass up.”
Demi sighed and slowly strolled over. “I suppose a few wouldn’t harm their profits.”
“Forget about their profits,” said Tony. “If this thing continues for a while, John and many others are gonna lose out, big time.”
With the large glass of wine in her hand, Demi sat down at one of the tables and looked forlorn. Tony grabbed his pint and the bottle of white wine, and went over and joined her. He sat on the chair, opposite her, placing the drinks on the oak table, and wondered what he could do or say to cheer up the crestfallen female up.
He took a noisy slurp of his drink and leaned back in the wooden chair, gazing at Demi with a thin smile. Her head was lowered and Tony was certain that she was going to have a breakdown.
“You okay?” he asked her.
“I’m getting emotional,” she said with honesty. “I think the enormity of it all is starting to sink in.”
Tony nodded the once and felt that Demi was about to get things off her chest. He was right.
“I can’t stop thinking about Emma.” Demi paused and took another gulp of her wine, almost draining the glass. “The way she went … and then listening to my parents being attacked hours later...”
Her eyes filled and Tony was unsure whether she needed comforting. Instead, he remained where he was and took another drink of his lager. He asked if she was okay, for the second time, but Demi never responded to his query.
She said, “She was my best mate, but I didn’t know her long. About two years or so.” She grabbed the bottle and filled her glass up. “Her parents are nice. God,” she cried. “This is going to kill them when they find out.”
“That’s if they’re still alive,” said Tony, immediately biting his bottom lip and regretting ever opening his mouth.
“Her brother’s going to freak when he finds out.” Demi revealed half a smirk and Tony wondered if her and this drug dealing Henry had had a fling, possibly. “He should know that we’re around this area.”
“What?” Tony thinned his eyes with perplexity and started to crack his knuckles. “What are you talking about?”
“That’s who she was texting when she was in Paul’s car. Henry had texted Emma, wondering where she was. You were trying to wind me up, asking if I’d shagged him. And then I texted him, before the phones became scrambled.”
“Oh, yeah.” Tony drained his glass and got up for another.
“Make sure everything’s locked up,” Demi said, “before you get wasted.”
“Everything is locked up. And I have no plans on getting wasted.” Tony went behind the bar and poured himself another pint. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired and when I do go to sleep tonight, I’ll probably sleep for about two days, man.”
“I know,” she sighed. “I think it’s the adrenaline that’s been keeping us awake during the day.”
“And the fact that we’re shitting bricks over this ... Night of the Living Dead type of scenario.”
“But we saw and heard on the TV that they’re not—”
“It’s just a figure of speech,” Ton
y said. “I remember what I saw on TV. They can die like normal people because they’re ... well, they are still people. They bite, but the bite doesn’t spread the virus. They can’t speak, swim, but can run and climb.”
“What do you think to John’s outburst before he left?” Demi said, and took two large gulps of wine.
“No idea. Interesting theory, though.”
“You really believe that everybody in the West Midlands area have been left to their own devices, and the overall plan is to kill off the survivors so the virus doesn’t spread?"
“I have no idea, but however this happened, it started in the West Midlands and they’re trying to keep it here. You can’t blame them really. They’re just trying to protect the rest of the population.”
“That’s very liberal of you.” Demi poured more wine into her glass. “Aren’t you worried that we’re going to die?”
“A little.” Tony went behind the bar to top his drink up. He could see that Demi had enough in her bottle for another large glass, so he didn’t ask if she wanted one.
He returned with a full pint and sat down, opposite Demi, who looked a little soused. Tony put this down to the three large glasses of wine that had been consumed in such a short space of time, as well as the lack of sleep.
“Maybe John was talking out of his arse,” said Demi. “Maybe he’s one of these guys that loves a good old conspiracy theory.”
“Maybe, but with armed forces surrounding the outskirts of the West Midlands, and with the power going so soon, phones getting scrambled—”
“Don’t!”
“It doesn’t look good.”
Demi placed her hands over her ears and slurred, “I don’t wanna hear any more, d’ya feel me?”
Tony sat back and thought of a topic to change the subject, but Demi had beaten him to it.
“I wonder how your friend Paul is doing.”
“Who knows?”
“He seems like a nice guy,” she said. “But when he was taking us home, before all the weirdness happened, he seemed a bit straight, emotionless, but I suppose not everybody is a happy-go-lucky kind of person. Especially now.”
“Paul wasn’t the way he was three years ago. He was different, more outgoing, but for the last three years he’s been kind of ... I don’t know ... sullen, I suppose.”
“Oh?” Demi looked intrigued.
“You can still have a laugh with Paul,” Tony said, “but he’s not as happy-go-lucky as he used to be.”
“Do tell.”
“Paul had a very bad break up three years ago,” Tony said. “When he split up with his girlfriend he got drunk most days, got into fights in the town… Well, I say fights, but what I meant was that he would mouth off and he’d get a doing.”
“He sounded like he really went off the rails.”
“He did. It was ridiculous.” Tony paused and thought about his friend, and felt bad for telling Demi this information. “He calmed down after a few months, but he’s never been the same. His character had changed and he’s been a bit of a cold fish since. Bit over the top, if you ask me.”
“What is?”
“Going to pieces like that over a girl.”
Tony smiled and picked up the bottle of wine and poured the rest of it into Demi’s glass.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Demi giggled.
“Not really, man.” Tony looked up and could see Demi giving off a wry smile. She was gorgeous, but Tony was exhausted and even if she came onto him, he wasn’t sure that he’d have the energy to make love to the beauty.”
“You look tired,” she said.
“I am.” Tony rubbed his eyes with his fingers. He looked at his Armani watch, staring at the dark blue face and said, “I’ll finish this pint, and then I’m gonna hit the sack.”
“Which room are you taking?”
“The spare room. Why?”
“I don’t want to sleep in John and Helen’s room,” Demi spoke. “It seems a bit disrespectful. And the thought of sleeping in that teenager’s room and all those nights of him masturbating.”
“Point taken.” Tony groaned and added with a smile, “You can have the spare room. I’ll take the boy’s room and his crusty sheets.”
The two of them stood up and Demi gasped when scratching could be heard by the main door. Tony looked at Demi with wide eyes and placed his finger to his lips, telling her to remain quiet. Demi flashed Tony a hard glare, informing him that she wasn’t an idiot. Tony produced a faint smile, apologising to his female companion, and headed to the door with slow and quiet steps.
Demi headed for the bay window, near the door, and hoped to get a better look that way. She turned to Tony and said, “It’s just a dog.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Melvin Leslie paced up and down in his bedroom, snapping and cussing under his breath. Even in this time of danger, his wife was still pecking and nagging at him.
Maybe he should kill her.
He could blame it on the IOs once the dust had settled. But what about Paul and Gail?
He shook his head and smacked the palms of his hands off his cheeks, reprimanding himself for even thinking about ending Lisa’s life. They were in love, once upon a time, but now the thought of making love to the rotund, spiteful woman turned his stomach.
In the early days, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
He began to calm down, by trying some breathing exercises, and thought about one Saturday evening, when they were just married. A young and fresher Lisa Leslie and Mel were sat on the sofa, watching the movie Fright Night. Once the credits began to roll, she playfully nudged her husband and told him that she was going upstairs to slip into something more comfortable. Mel went up ten minutes later and they made love for hours that night. He really did love her back then.
The marriage was now dead, but neither one seemed to have taken the bull by the horns and held their hands up and said, ‘Let’s call it a day. This isn’t working.’
At first, their bickering was just banter. Mel remembered coming back from work early, and Lisa asking why he was back. Mel replied that his boss told him to go to hell. Years after that, the banter snowballed into abuse.
Mel’s ears suddenly twitched and his eyebrows lowered, almost knitting them together. The sound of feet could be heard from outside, and he jogged over to his bedroom window, pulled the curtain back by a few inches, and peered out.
Seven individuals could be seen running over the Wolseley Bridge, bypassing the pub on their left. The small group were a mixture of males and females, and Mel knew that they were infected before he clocked their bloodshot eyes.
He gulped when they all stopped running, and the male in front of the other six, looked up at Mel’s bedroom window.
Mel shook with fear and wondered if he had been spotted. He didn’t want to move. If he moved away from the window, then the curtain would move, and this would highlight that somebody was inside. He knew that some of their skills as humans had diminished, or had been forgotten, since being infected, but wasn’t entirely sure what.
They could obviously run and eat, but swimming was something he was unsure they could do anymore. He had never heard them speak, was sure that they had no conscience, and was certain that recognising loved ones was something they were unable to do as well. He guessed that an infected father, polluted by this disease that made some people insanely ravenous, would have no qualms about ripping his children to pieces.
Were they just mindless freaks, running around the country, attacking whomever their eyes clocked, like he saw in a movie once? Or were they sneakier than that? Were they predators as such, capable of ambushing people?
The staring match between Mel and this male continued. Mel shook with fear, and his heart thumped the inside of his chest at a frightening speed. The snarling male broke away from the gaze, and lowered his head. It jogged away from the house, down the main road, to the right of the house, and Mel breathed out a relieved sigh when the rest of t
he IOs followed him.
He lowered his head and wiped the tears from his eyes that were seconds away from falling, and decided to go downstairs and inform Lisa, Paul and Gail about the close call he had.
He went down the stairs with heavy legs, and reached the bottom. He stepped into the living room and could see Paul and Lisa sitting on the couch, and Gail pacing up and down the carpet, along by the living room window.
“Where have you been?” Lisa asked with a condescending smirk. “You been cracking one off to one of your car magazines?”
Mel blew out a breath before making the frightening announcement, and jumped when the living room shattered. Three beings went through the window, and two of them pounced on Gail. Lisa released a shriek and Gail screamed as the two infected gnawed and bit their way through her neck. Four others ran into the room, via the shattered window, and Paul was the first to put one down. He front-kicked the first one that approached him, forcing it to the floor, and stabbed the other approaching IO in the chest, killing it instantly.
Lisa stabbed one in the throat, leaving the knife in, and watched in horror as the female infected fell to the floor, bleeding to death. She looked over to see her husband smacking one across the skull and Paul stabbing another at the side of the neck. Whilst this was happening, the two that originally crashed through the window, were still eating away at a conscious Gail, oblivious that their companions had been put down, and the third one that had crashed through with Gail’s attackers, lay on the floor. It appeared that running through the window was eventually going to be the reason why it had died. The infected female was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and lay on her back, still breathing, but with a large shard of glass inserted into her neck.
Mel could see that Gail’s now dead attackers were also covered in cuts, and it dawned on him that these IOs were fearless. Paul and Mel took a quick look at one another, and went over to the two that were feasting on a now dead Gail Melrose. Paul killed the two that had attacked the woman with a stab wound each to their backs, and then finished off the one that Mel had previously whacked.
