Job done, he placed one of her favourite plant pots as a headstone. ‘I’d rather have the brown one with the patterns on,’ she said.
Tom recognised the plant pot as the same one he had bought from the garden centre. He remembered giving it to her. She didn’t acknowledge the gift which annoyed him slightly. Later that evening she thanked him as she said goodnight.
He swapped the pots. ‘Are you going to say a few words,’ Billie-Jo asked.
‘I’m not religious, dare say she was either. I imagine the holy water would boil dry and lightening would strike the church if she ever set foot inside,’ he said without any humour.
‘What about just some nice words about your time together.’
Tom’s eyebrows elevated an inch or so higher, this startled Lola into a bark. It made Billie-Jo laugh. ‘I wasn’t that bad…was I,’ asked his mother.
Tom stood, reflecting…a high-speed montage of the heated arguments, disagreements, insults that faded into laughs, heated banter, cups of tea and never a night ending where they wished each other a goodnight’s sleep. Tom dropped to his knees and pushed his hands into the freshly dug soil. A steady stream of tears flowed down his face.
‘I’m sorry,’ he cried.
‘Me too,’ he heard.
*
Billie-Jo edged into the kitchen as Tom wept and said some nice things to the mound of soil he gripped. She noticed he was having a two-way conversation.
‘Okay then,’ she said to herself, possibly Lola as she moved into the kitchen. She looked out of the window into the street. A few of the dead wandered about.
‘Jesus Christ,’ she said out loud when she saw the mound of bodies stacked up on the path. She could see the extent of Tom’s rampage.
At least two dozen piled high in the front and an assortment of dismembered neighbours flung over fences in the back. She wasn’t sure if she should stick or twist with Tom. He certainly wasn’t taking any prisoners. Maybe he wasn’t taking any strays either.
Back in the garden he spoke to his mother about the good times, they were few and from his younger days. The time they went on a rickety old roller coaster and squealed all the way around. She mentioned the first time he got drunk and she had to drag him from the steps of a pub, laid out and asleep. She mentioned he may have soiled himself that night, he let it go, keep it civil he thought. He didn’t spend too long dwelling on the past, mainly because she appeared to be coming with him. He headed into the house, washed his hands and put the kettle on.
Billie-Jo sat at the table, ‘Now what?’ she asked.
‘I’m going to have a cup of tea; do you want one?’ He replied casually.
‘Yeah, two sugars. But I meant what are we going to do,’ she put importance on the we…
‘I know. Do you have any family you can go to?’
‘I had a gran who lives at the bottom of the street,’ she replied.
‘Had,’ he emphasised.
‘She is in the middle of that pile of bodies outside your front door,’ she replied equally casual.
He turned to face her, ‘You don’t seem all that put out that you have killed both your parents and your gran is in a neighbour sandwich outside.’
She shrugged, ‘They weren’t my real family, I was adopted. Truth be told…I wasn’t that fond of them. I have run away six times, was planning on going again only opportunity presented itself.’
‘Cold,’ said Tom.
‘Says the man who went batshit with a chainsaw and a couple of swords.’ It was Tom’s turn to shrug.
Tom scooped two sugars into each cup and stirred while he considered the options. ‘Mmm, what are your thoughts?’ He asked her.
‘Do you have any kids?’ He raised an eyebrow, much better than giving a thirteen-year-old the finger. ‘Would you like one?’ She smiled. Out came the finger. This made both of them laugh.
*
‘I don’t think we can stay here,’ he said. ‘I’ve already had my fair share of potential looters followed by their families. I think we need to be on the move, find other survivors, maybe a quarantine zone.’
‘You can’t leave me here,’ she said.
‘I’m not,’ the words were out of his mouth before he could realise it wasn’t Billie-Jo’s voice he was responding too.
‘Your mother interfering again,’ she smiled.
‘Something you may have to get used too,’ he smiled back.
‘Tell her to mind her own fucking business,’ his mother shouted in his mind.
His expression gave it away, ‘Did she tell me not to interfere?’
‘Words to that effect,’ he said with an awkward smile.
‘Charming,’ she replied. ‘Let her know, I’m going to look after you.’ She said as she walked out of the kitchen and over the fence to get her belongings.
The range of expletives that went off in Tom’s head gave him a nosebleed. Lola glared at him, growling with her beady little eyes popping.
By the time Billie-Jo got back, which wasn’t long Lola was eating out the palm of Tom’s hand, literally. He had found some processed meat, it stated on the packet it was 100% beef, he doubted that statement and Lola didn’t care.
He also had a plaster on his finger, were he had attempted to stroke her without bribery. She acknowledged Billie-Jo’s return with a brief glance in her direction before returning to the high salt treat, she was devouring like she had never been fed.
‘Traitor,’ said Billie-Jo to Lola who had forgotten she existed.
‘You all set?’ Asked Tom.
‘I am,’ she said adjusting her backpack. She picked up Lola who now looked satisfied and sleepy. ‘How much of that crap did you give her?’
‘All of it,’ replied Tom. ‘She kept growling at me. I had to establish a friendship somehow.’ He pointed his injured finger at them both.
‘Good girl,’ she patted Lola on her tiny head before gliding her into a front harness.
‘Are you putting your dog into a baby sling?’ He said with a mixture of shock and amusement.
‘It’s a dog carry if you must know,’ she pointed at the brand name across the breast plate. She then tied a tiny muzzle in place.
‘Really, you’re putting a muzzle on her now,’ he raised his finger again.
‘It’s to stop her barking while we sneak about,’ replied Billie-Jo.
‘She’s going to get you eaten,’ said his mother.
‘Good idea,’ replied Tom, ignoring his mother. ‘But who said anything about sneaking about.’ He took his middle-sized sword and gave it to Billie-Jo. ‘You will be needing this.’
‘Thanks,’ she was genuinely impressed. She watched Tom as he slid his own backpack on over the sheath of the long sword. The short sword he pushed into his belt. She pushed the hammer into her belt and struggled with the sword. Tom assisted.
They both walked to the front of the house and stepped out into an undead world ready for business.
‘Have you set fire to your house?’ He asked as the whiff of smoke caught his senses.
‘Yep,’ she replied.
‘Ok, then…this way,’ he said heading down the street.
Neither of them looked back.
Chapter Forty-Five
Cheetwood, Manchester, Central UK
The cold clammy hand dropped on to Laura as she placed her foot on the first step of the ladder. She wasn’t sure if it was the touch of the dead or the scream from above that caused her to stumble, either way she was falling to the floor. The ladder toppled over next to her. Eddie made no attempt to jump down and help. She was on her own.
Ritchie looked towards the hole. Eddie looked directly at the creature below. Ritchie released a low growl towards him as he reached out, a snarl of recognition. Eddie sneered.
‘Help me,’ Laura also snarled at Eddie. She pulled herself to her feet.
‘No way am I jumping back down there.’ He said. ‘Get up that fucking ladder and I’ll pull you in.’
For a minute Ri
tchie was confused, looking back and forth as the dialogue jumped from Laura to Eddie. Realising he couldn’t reach Eddie with his outstretched arms he turned towards Laura again.
‘Oh fuck,’ she said as she pulled the ladder between her and Ritchie. The soggy stump of his chewed hand shot through the space in the ladder. It was like a boxer’s jab as Laura leaned away. The other hand gripped the frame of the ladder. Behind her the dead were coming over the barricade.
‘Whatever you’re going to do you need to do it quick.’ Eddie said nodding towards the advancing mob. Two of the dead creatures had righted themselves and were stumbling upwards.
Laura used the ladder as a guide and turned Ritchie towards the stairs. She was the more determined of the two as she pushed Ritchie backwards. He continued to reach through with his bloody stump. It was a grotesque tango, step one, two, three – step one, two, three and the ladder was out of place in this dance of survival.
She guided him to the edge of the top stair. His grip remained tight. Laura extended her hand out towards the hold he maintained, he sensed an opportunity and reached out. She pulled back quickly and held the ladder with both hands. Before Ritchie could react, she planted the ladder with a hard push into his face. He didn’t flail just simply surrendered to gravity.
Ritchie crashed into the two dead creatures, bones cracked and bodies crumpled. The three fell onto the rest of the advancing crowd. Laura watched briefly as the scene unfolded before turning and placing the ladder directly under the opening. She hurried up the ladder and reached for the hand that wasn’t there. Peering from the hole was Eddie’s arrogant smile.
*
What Laura mistook for a smile was actually a snarl. Eddie doubted if he would ever smile again. He had the power to reach down and save this stranger’s life yet he was powerless to save his brother. Why couldn’t it be the other way around, his brother reaching for his life instead of being smeared across the kitchen floor, being trampled on by the neighbours he despised? She could be useful, she had handled herself well amongst all the carnage so far. He was debating it within himself.
‘Are you going to pull me or not,’ she asked. She was careful not to put too much edge in her voice. She was at least a foot away from the opening with her arms outstretched. She had considered jumping but she knew she would never have the strength to pull herself up.
The creatures were making another attempt at climbing the stairs. Ritchie was in there somewhere, a crowd of lazy-eyed dead people looking for food. Laura’s arm began to ache, she shook it and thrust if forward again. She felt the rough hand clamp around hers and lift her into the air, Eddie didn’t feel like being alone just yet.
He pulled her through the opening with plenty to spare. The undead were still advancing, reaching the top and just staring into the void above. They made throaty moans as they stretched out their arms towards the hole.
‘Close the hatch,’ said Laura. She looked down with a mixture of pity and disgust in equal measures. Ritchie reached out with his gnawed and bloodied arm. Eddie pushed the wooden covering into place. He pulled across a box of family junk and placed it on top of the wood for extra weight. He reached into his pocket and took out a zippo lighter, the flame gave an eerie feeling to their surroundings. He looked at the trophies that he and Tommy had won as kids and young teenagers. They were both good at swimming but boxing was their sport. He picked up Tommy’s under sixteen knockout of the night trophy, a golden arm raising a couple of boxing gloves. The trophy always made them laugh, it looked like a pair of bollocks. It didn’t make him smile tonight, he blew out the light and shed a tear for his brother while the dead continued to moan.
*
Laura had understood what had happened, she sat in silence for several minutes before reaching into the darkness and touching Eddie’s arm. She didn’t really feel any sympathy for him, she knew he was worse than the things below her, probably his brother too. Her touch was to get him moving. He jumped and dropped the trophy into the soft padding that lined the attic floor.
In the darkness Laura cringed, expecting Eddie to be mad. His voice was calm as though he had just snapped out of a daydream. She had brought him out of his nightmare, reliving the moment he had put a bullet in his brother’s head. He tried telling himself that Tommy had already gone but the snarling dead face was replaced by the ever-smiling Tommy, he knew his mind was playing tricks – he couldn’t stop it.
‘What,’ he said, not fully in control of his own voice.
She sensed him wiping tears from his face, ‘We need to move, organise some way of getting out of here.’
‘Yeah, you’re right,’ he replied as he ignited the lighter again.
Laura was beginning to think he had suffered a mental breakdown. She didn’t know him but she knew enough to know that this wasn’t really him.
‘Ok, what’s the plan,’ she asked.
‘I have one,’ he said as he flicked on the flame again. Her eyes took a minute to adjust but she had noticed his voice had returned. Eddie wore a crazed expression, a face that told her that one of them would end up dead with the odds heavily stacked in her favour. She couldn’t go back and now she didn’t want to go forward.
‘You’ve said that already, I’m asking what it is.’
‘There,’ he said nodding towards the wall adjoining the next house.
Laura squinted in the gloom, ‘It’s a brick wall…you got a sledgehammer in that bag of yours.’
Eddie had put the bag back on his back as soon as he got through the opening. He ignored the sarcasm, ‘No I haven’t, and I don’t need one.’
Mr tough guy here will just knock them out with his bare hands she thought to herself and that’s exactly what he did. The bricks in the wall had been loosened previously. Eddie took them out one at a time and handed them to Laura while explaining it was his bolt hole in times of escape, mostly from the law. Laura placed the bricks carefully into the tracks of the attic floor. Thirty-six bricks all stacked neatly together. Eddie had been so focused on getting the bricks out that he had failed to notice their stacking pattern. He turned just as Laura was taking the load off her feet.
‘Don’t,’ he shouted but it was too late. Laura slumped onto the pile of bricks. The wooden slats below the insulation creaked and gave way to the strain of weight. Thirty-six bricks erupted from the ceiling and crashed to the floor below. The dead creatures moved towards the noise.
Laura had felt the space below here open up, almost swallowing her whole. She had managed to open her arms as the ceiling gave way and the wooden support beams had managed to break her fall. A jolt of pain had erupted under both armpits at the moment of impact. An involuntary scream bursting from her face. The pain and shock was threatening to drain her remaining energy. She was burning energy as her legs swung freely in the open space below her.
‘Help me,’ she screamed as dust clouds choked her throat.
Eddie moved towards her, so did Ritchie.
*
While Eddie displayed some intelligence, his vocabulary was limited. ‘For fuck’s sake,’ he hissed as he jumped from beam to beam towards Laura. She was lucky she hadn’t shot right through to the floor and the waiting dead beneath.
‘Hurry up, I can hear them getting closer.’ Her feet dangled just above head height but within easy reach of the dead who were closing in on her. Ritchie appeared motivated; he had got to the front of the shuffling crowd.
‘You shouldn’t have been so fucking stupid to put your fat arse on a pile of bricks.’
‘Just get my arse back up here.’
Ritchie stumbled passed the ladder in the hall, nudging it as he went. Two others bumped into the ladder simultaneously causing it to lurch forward. The ladder crashed to the floor knocking over the two and hitting Ritchie in the head causing him to go off course. He staggered to the side as the ladder positioned itself across the doorway to Laura. It knocked on the door with a thud. Laura panicked and screamed louder for Eddie. Ritchie moaned as his stum
p made a second thud and the door swung open. Laura couldn’t see him, but she could hear him, his moaning, the shuffling of his feet across raw floorboards and the gnashing of his jaws.
Eddie planted his feet on support beams either side of Laura, without thinking he bent his knees and reached for her. Ritchie straightened his arms and reached out too.
‘Give me your hand,’ said Eddie.
‘I can’t, I’ll fall. You will have to pull me by my shoulders.’
Eddie knew that would be impossible, there was no way he would be able to lift her from the hole. ‘Just reach out, you won’t fall I’ll have hold of you.’ She shook her head. ‘Listen to me, I can’t lift you out if I don’t have anything to pull…now hurry the fuck up.’
Reluctantly she reached out just as Ritchie’s stump touched her leg. Her screech startled Eddie causing him to almost lose his footing and tumble forward. She swung her legs forward out of his reach, the momentum swung them back again. This time Ritchie reached out with his hand. He grasped her ankle and pulled. Laura felt herself slip deeper through the hole. She instinctively kicked out with force. Ritchie’s hand slid down her calf and removed her shoe just as her heel caught him in the chin. The blow was strong enough to propel Ritchie back towards the door and give Laura some incentive. Eddie had righted himself again just as she thrust her hand into his. He got a good grip and pushed through his legs. As Laura began to raise, she pushed off the wooden beam with her free hand. Ritchie reached out again, but this time Laura was out of his reach. Eddie looked through the damaged ceiling, he met Ritchie’s lifeless eyes again and was certain that hatred stared back at him.
They moved with caution along the beams, Eddie leading the way. Laura limped along, her bare foot gathering splinters as she went. She got to the wall and steadied herself before removing the other shoe. Eddie peered through the gap, listening for movement in the floors below.
‘It sounds quiet,’ he said.
‘Fucking splinters,’ hissed Laura as she pulled tiny slivers of wood from the soles of her feet.
The Good, The Bad & The Dead | Book 1 | Once Upon A Time In An Undead World Page 22