by Oliver Smith
-
Lying on top of the overturned truck, a member of the gang watched on as Jack and Lucy fought off the four dead. He listened as Jack gallantly offered a place for Lucy to stay. He smiled and turned to watch his gang of 10 finish killing the 50 dead stranded in the clearing between the two crash sites. Beyond the other heaped wreckage, the dead had gathered to impassable numbers, the way back into Manchester was blocked by a wall of monsters. He jumped down to the clearing as the gang of youths walked towards him; blood smeared their clothes and weapons.
One of the gang stepped forwards and asked, “What the fuck are we going to do now Dale? There’s no way back.”
Dale calmly walked towards his inquisitor and put his arm around him, half hug, half headlock, smiling he said, “Shut the fuck up Naz. I’ve got a plan.”
Dale let go of Naz’s head and walked between the gang. It was obvious that Dale was the authority figure among the group. The rest looked on with obsequious anticipation waiting for Dale to continue.
“That bird got away. She was helped by a man. He looked like a pussy. I heard where they were going. He said it was fairly safe. It’s not far, but we’ve got no wheels. We should be able to pick some up from somewhere.” Dale paused to see if there was any discontent. There was none. The tired youths were weary having fought for what seemed like an eternity. Their frequent and dangerous excursions were physically and mentally draining and had taken their toll on the group.
He continued, “It makes sense, these people are rich in Cheshire. Anything we want we can have. Lamborghinis, swimming pools, mansions. It’s all for the taking. There’s less of the dead so it should be easy pickings.
“Before that though. I’ve got the scent of a fit as fuck red-headed milf that I want to make squeal. We’re heading to the country lads. Let’s get rich. I’m sure you want a little action too Richie?”
Richie nodded, he had a cracked rib and broken nose following his encounter with Lucy. He desperately wanted some retribution. A short stocky man, at 28, he was at least ten years senior to the rest of the group, he was unintelligent, had psychopathic tendencies and didn’t understand or relate to feelings of remorse or guilt. Richie was born for this world, one step up from the dead.
-
Lucy and Jack worked their way along the M56 and spoke infrequently. Jack was still frozen, and star struck, desperately pleading with his mind to break the ice, but the more he tried the tenseness in his stomach increased leaving him cursing himself for being so pathetic at small talk.
Eventually, Lucy spoke, “So why are you out here if you’ve got a safe place in the country?”
Jack was quick to answer, thankful for the question, “I was out here for supplies and practice.”
“What do you mean practice? Where were you when all this happened?” The questions started to flow from Lucy as she started to embrace being in contact with another living person who wasn’t out to sexually assault her.
“Well…where to begin. It sounds a bit sad, but I’d locked myself at home for a few days to get a website done for work. My phone’s knackered and I was also trying to avoid social media and email to keep away from distraction. I sometimes do this…I guess I’m now doing it permanently.” Jack laughed half-heartedly at the poor humour. Lucy didn’t laugh.
“Anyway, basically I had no idea what was happening. I found out when I went to the shop. Someone I bumped into told me about the whole end of the world, which I didn’t believe. I then saw one of the zombies and ran home to lock myself away and find out more. That’s when I watched your videos. I should thank you for your eyewitness accounts, they were brilliant.”
Jack was cringing inside. He wasn’t painting a good picture of himself. He’d ran away and hid, not very heroic or masculine, then he’d started to act sycophantically towards the videos. I must look like a sap.
He continued, “Anyway, I’ve got parents and friends over in Yorkshire and I need to get over there to check on them. My step-mum and dad were up in Scotland with their campervan, so I’ve got to assume they’ll make their way back home. I’m planning on making the trip in the next day…or two. I figured the population is lower over there, so I reckon I’ve got a better chance of survival the other side of the hills.
“This jaunt out was to prepare for what could well be my last ever trip.”
Lucy smiled at Jack’s use of the word jaunt, as if he was out for a picnic. She began to warm to him and told him about her journey out of Manchester. Jack was all ears. Coming to the end of the M56 after a weaving and careful drive, Jack said to Lucy that he was leaving the motorway and heading into the country and asked if she was okay going that way. She agreed and sank down into the seat, her feet pushed under the chair, knees pointing up with the bat resting between her legs. Jack glanced over and could see she was taking stock of her amazing escape from the city.
Jack was hunched over the steering wheel, consumed with fear whilst navigating through the wrecks and dead stragglers, when Lucy spoke softly, “If it’s okay with you, I’ll take you up on your offer of a roof over my head for a day or two.”
Preoccupied, Jack didn’t answer until the words made their way past his unconscious mind, into consciousness, eventually he said, ‘great’, and explained that he had a spare room, attempting to sound nonchalant, hiding his pleasure at her acceptance of his offer.
There were a few scares and close calls during the remainder of the drive, but once they got onto the country roads it was plain sailing. The dead that Jack had lured away, or maybe different ones, were turned around back in the direction of home, so much for Jack’s practical ideas. Lucy and Jack sat in silence. Lucy reflected the past few hours; the hours had seemed like days and had left her exhausted. Jack sat there in an awkward silence, should he say something, could he even think of something to say. Jack continued the rest of the journey this way, feeling awkward about the silence. Lucy on the other hand had sunk into a contented silence with her new friend.
Jacked inserted a CD into the car stereo, The National’s Blood Buzz Ohio came on and they sat in silence listening to the haunting and melancholy music while staring thoughtfully out of the window.
Things will be okay.
Chapter 15 - Two’s Company
Lucy and Jack arrived at number 12 about 3pm. Jack showed Lucy around the house and to her room. He left her there as she gathered her thoughts. She’d left her carefully packed bag in the Range Rover when she was on the run. She had no possessions other than the clothes on her back and her bat, which she had grown rather attached to.
Jack was waiting for Lucy in the kitchen when she came downstairs, he said, “You must be hungry, let me rustle something up for us. The gas is still on so I can make us some pasta.”
Lucy smiled, “You read my mind, I must admit I am famished, but I’m off carbs.” She laughed as did Jack, she was feeling a little awkward in Jack’s home, but was happy to be there.
Jack set to work and Lucy sat down at the kitchen table and watched on. She was eager to change, she had the day’s sweat and the dead’s blood on her, she said, “I left my bag behind when I fled from those arse wipes, I don’t have any spare clothes. I don’t suppose you have anything I could wear?”
Jack stopped placing pans on the hob and paused. After a few seconds he said, “Yes, I think I can help you with some clothes.” He went upstairs and left Lucy sitting there without saying another word.
A few minutes passed and Jack appeared in the lounge holding a pile of clothes, “They should fit you; she was a similar size to you.” He looked sad.
Standing up from the kitchen table, Lucy walked towards Jack and touched his arm. She asked, “Where is she?”
Jack smiled; he knew she was thinking that his wife had been lost in the current climate of things, he said, “She died five years ago. These might be a little faded and dusty, but they should be okay. I couldn’t throw them away.”
“I’m fine in these clothes if you don’t want me to w
ear them. I can get some more somewhere else.” Lucy said, still touching Jack’s arm.
“Please, make use of them. Amy would have wanted me to help you anyway, so please don’t argue, you need clothes and I have clothes. Please, no more, get changed and we’ll eat. I’ve got some wine!” Jack tried to lighten the mood with the promise of wine.
Lucy grabbed the clothes and headed upstairs. Jack returned to the kitchen to make some pasta. He had some tomatoes that were just about spent, some onion, garlic and a few herbs and spices. He put the tomatoes in a small pan, added some olive oil, balsamic vinegar and Worcestershire Sauce and covered them over a low heat. He cut an onion and the garlic and fried them with some olive oil while boiling water for the spaghetti.
He was still preparing the food when Lucy returned. She wore some tight-fitting jeans and a shirt with swallows printed on them. Jack had always liked that shirt on Amy and he pictured her walking into the lounge calling out with joy in her voice, “Where are my two favourite people?” He began to choke up, tears welling in his eyes. The vision and memory stirring great sadness inside, he tried to shove them aside. It wasn’t Amy, she was dead. This was Lucy.
She called through to the kitchen as Jack had moved away from watching her, “That smells great. You must have been a chef.”
“I wish. I was selling my soul in the corporate world dancing to the capitalist tune. I was in marketing, not that useful now I can tell you.” Jack responded cheerfully; finally getting a grip of his emotions as Lucy walked back into the kitchen.
“How do I look?” She questioned with a smirk.
“Beautiful.” Jack said and immediately regretted the choice of word. It wasn’t the word itself; Jack thought Lucy did look beautiful; she was stunning and was like a ray of sunshine. It was the situation, a man and a woman, alone, Jack using romantic terms. He didn’t want to give Lucy the wrong impression.
Lucy blushed, sensing Jack’s discomfort, and sat down as she said, “What was that about wine? I feel I’ve earned a drink today.”
Jack pointed to the work surface behind him, “There’s a bottle open there, the glasses are in the cupboard above, please help yourself. Mi casa su casa.”
They greedily ate and enjoyed a bottle of wine together. Lucy had been in purchasing for an online fashion business. She was new to Manchester and was from London. She didn’t give much about her life away, but was able to talk freely about things like music, TV and art. Jack and Lucy had liked many of the same things, such as going to gigs, reading and people watching. That was the old world though.
Lucy was everything Jack had envisioned and more. She was wise, kind, intelligent and funny. Jack was enjoying himself and enjoying the company. Was it the end of the world or was it the person? He’d felt a longing for the old world upon learning about the worldwide catastrophe, so maybe this feeling of happiness was a result of this yearning, rather than being close to someone of the opposite sex. Still, he felt more alive than he had done in many years.
It turned out that the next phase of Lucy’s plan wasn’t so simple. She didn’t know what to do. She was from London, but by all accounts, London was a no-go zone. Too big and out of control, the City was awash with the dead. Escaping a city the size of London would be an impossible task. She had made peace a couple of days ago with the fact that her London friends would have probably perished. Her parents were already dead, before the dead started rising, and she had no immediate family. She was truly alone and when this realisation dawned on her, her face darkened immeasurably. She was alone and had nowhere to go, but she remained composed and committed to her survival.
Jack stared on in wonder. What a woman. They continued to chat, sitting at the kitchen table like old friends, when Lucy said with whispered urgency, “Jack, there’s a man at the kitchen window!”
He swung his head around quickly and relaxed and waved, “Don’t worry, that’s Danny, he’s my neighbour.” Adding in a hushed tone, “He’s the one who’s been keeping the street free of the dead, he’s clearing it for when his wife returns home.”
Lucy grimaced and Jack understood the look. He got up and opened the back door letting Danny in.
“Danny, this is Lucy, she’s a friend and staying here for a couple of days. Lucy, this is Danny, my neighbour.” Jack did the introductions.
Making his way to a cupboard, Jack got another bottle of wine and opened it, getting a glass for Danny. The three of them talked, joked and laughed together through the remains of the afternoon and into the evening and night. Danny had been out doing his errands in the day and seemed impressed with both Lucy and Jack’s tales of adventure. He had lots of questions about the city and the general state of how things were. He listened gravely as Lucy spoke about how she’d been pursued by the gang and the sheer numbers of the dead that were currently barricaded behind crumpled pileups.
Danny and Lucy seemed to be getting along famously. At times, Jack felt like a spare wheel as the two of them joked with one another. The old feeling of envy and jealousy filled him, but this time is wasn’t a general life thing, it was jealousy over a woman. He’d felt a warmth from Lucy and had been feeling like a schoolboy with a crush, he had been trying to push the alien feelings down, but Jack was smitten with Lucy and he hadn’t been like this since Amy. He didn’t like himself for feeling this way, but he knew Amy would be happy about it…she’d probably have teased him about it if she could talk from beyond the grave, but she would have wanted Jack to be happy. Perhaps not in a world filled with the walking dead.
All these thoughts were wasted anyway. Lucy’s warmth was just part of her personality. She was showing it to Danny as she had to Jack and Jack had to make sure his stupid crush didn’t ruin things between the three of them. They were the only living people he knew, and he cherished every moment he spent with them. How times had changed, his outlook on human interaction had turned on its heels, he now wanted to be as close as possible to the people he cared about.
The night came to an end as Danny decided he’d drank enough wine. They’d polished off four bottles between them and they were all quite inebriated. He kissed Lucy goodnight on the cheek and shook Jack’s hand and left out of the back and under the fence panel.
Lucy and Jack were left alone. Lucy smiled and said, “He’s a really nice guy. A policeman too, a hero now and a hero then.”
“He sure is.” Jack answered trying to hide the jealousy in his voice.
“You can see it behind the smile though. There’s desperation there. I think he knows Dawn isn’t coming home, but he can’t give up. I don’t know what would be left if he gave up. I felt I had to spend the whole night making him smile trying to keep his hopes up. I really hope he finds her.”
Jack looked at Lucy smiling. Her warmth and compassion were pulling at his heartstrings again. She’d seen through Danny’s mask and into his soul, something Jack had failed to notice. She was taking extra care of Danny this evening as he needed it more than anybody.
Jack spoke, “You’re a very special person.
“I should go to bed before I fall over.”
“I should join you…well, you know what I mean, I should go to bed too.” Lucy said, blushing for the second time that day as they both headed upstairs.
They said their goodnights and went to their rooms.
After 15 minutes, Lucy couldn’t sleep; she was drunk and decided to see if Jack was still up. She knocked on the door and called out, “Are you asleep yet?”
Jack had been lying there thinking about Lucy and wasn’t asleep, he gently called out, “No, come in.”
Lucy tentatively pushed the door open; it slowly swung open as Lucy seemed to float into the room. She lightly tiptoed over to the side of the bed and sat down. She was wearing one of Jack’s old t-shirts that he’d laid out on her bed for nightwear. Jack could see her silhouette and contours of her body as the moon shone through the open plantation shutters.
“Can I spend the night with you? I don’t want to be alone.�
� Lucy asked meekly.
The calm and warm exterior was making way for a more intimate and tender side to Lucy. Jack sat up in bed and hesitated. He hadn’t had this sort of connection or intimacy with anyone since Amy. He was nervous and apprehension was catching his tongue. Lucy leaned closer and said, “I lost someone before all this started happening. It’s okay, I understand.”
She stood up and looked rueful, Jack spoke up, “Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone either.”
Lucy turned and started to lift the bed covers when Jack remembered he was naked, in a panic he sat up and blurted out, “Wait! I’m naked I should put some underwear on.”
Lucy didn’t stop; she continued to pull the covers up and slid into bed. Jack immediately felt the warmth of Lucy’s body from the other side of the bed. She turned on her side and faced him, her hands lying flat on the pillow under her face, and whispered to Jack, “Just so you know, I’m not in the habit of slipping into bed with boys I just met.”
With heart pounding, Jack smiled and lay down again and turned to face Lucy.
“Nobody is watching any more, society can’t judge. It’s just you and me.” Lucy said, she leaned closer and kissed Jack with a tender kiss. Jack’s whole body lit up as years of living in an emotional wilderness were swept aside with feelings of romance, passion and lust. He kissed Lucy back, but it was clumsy and half-hearted having been caught off guard and battling the guilt that still wrangled in his gut.
Lucy turned, facing away from Jack and said, “What does a girl have to do for a cuddle around here.”
Jack slid over the bed, conscious that he was naked and had a stirring that could be a little awkward. Lucy lifted her head and Jack put his arm around her. She smelt sweet considering the day’s exertions. He leaned in and pressed his chest into her back making sure to arch his body to keep his erection from ruining the tender moment. He knew he wanted her and was 99 percent certain she was interested, but that one percent weighed heavily on his decision making. Jack wasn’t even sure he was capable of sex anymore; he was a little out of practice.