by Birch, S. C.
Jack spun round and screamed.
Cameron screamed in response.
This only fuelled Jack’s screams.
And it made Cameron scream even louder.
“Are you dying?” shouted Lucy from upstairs.
“Err…no…?” Jack said, patting himself down to be sure he wasn’t dead.
“Then shut up!” Lucy shouted back.
The First Floor And The Attic
“Oh my God, I smell so baaad!” Emily wailed.
“Yep.” said Owen, who then received a swift punch to the arm.
“Shut up! I was meaning my boots! You got any shoes I could borrow?”
“You just about have the smallest feet in the world. You’re like a kid. Nothing I have will fit you.”
“You could at least let me have a look or something.”
“Actually, I do have a loft. It’s a hundred percent going to fail, but you can look. And we really should make sure there’s no undead kids up there.” Owen smirked in anticipation of Emily’s reaction.
Emily stopped walking and put her hand out on Owen’s chest, stopping him. She looked at him as if her life was coming to an end. Tears filled her eyes as she said, “Don’t say that. You know I couldn’t handle that part of the game. I don’t need reminded of it…”
Owen thumped his arm around Emily’s shoulder and brought her in close, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“I hate you. Let’s just get this done. D’you have ladders so we can go up or are we gonna ninja this shit?”
Owen shook his head and laughed. “Yeah, I’ve got ladders. No need to climb. It’s one of those ones that has the ladders attached to the hatch thingie.”
They walked up the hall until they stood under the hatch thingie. Owen reached up and wrapped his fingers around the cord and pulled it down. The ladders hurtled to the ground and clattered.
“See you later then, I guess.” said Emily as she placed her hands on the cold metal.
“I’m coming, too. Might have weapons and stuff we can use.” Owen said. He bumped Emily out the way and started climbing upwards and into the darkness.
It took a little while after Owen pulled on the overhead cord for the fluorescent bulb to flicker into life. And once it had, he pulled himself up a little further and looked around the only part of his house he had yet to discover. In front of him sat a collection of large oil drums, each large enough to store a body if necessary, and an incredibly handy set of antique and rusted golf clubs in an equally antique and rusted bag.
“Hurry up!” Emily shouted up at her friend’s rear.
“Sorry.” Owen said. He shook his head and hauled the last half of his body up.
Emily started climbing the ladders behind him, “You scared yourself that there might actually be a zombie kid up here, didn’t you?”
Owen crept along the loft. “Em, this place is really creepy.”
“How?” Emily asked as she poked her head up and saw what he could. The walls were draped in wallpaper that had yellowed and started to slip away from the walls. A small, brass bed stood alone against the wall furthest from them. At the foot of the bed was an old trunk and at the head of the bed, along the wall, stood a bookcase. Everything was swamped in cobwebs and dust.
“What is this? Did someone used to sleep in here?”
Owen slid his feet along the creaky wooden slats, “I think so. I don’t like this at all. Let’s just get this done and go.”
Owen walked over to the trunk. He placed his hands on the cold, brass latch and a wave of dust erupted out as he lifted it up. Dolls lay piled on top of each other, crammed inside the abandoned trunk. Their marble eyes and chipped faces stared up at Owen. And Owen stared back, too afraid that in the split second he looked away, those dolls would devour him.
Emily walked to the barrels and used all her might to slide a lid off. It smacked the ground and Owen dropped the trunk lid, yelped, and spun to face her.
“Come on!”
“Owen, this is the most creepy fucking thing in the world…”
“More creepy than a box filled with fucking dolls?”
“Yeah…Wait. Dolls?”
Owen nodded and walked to the metal barrel and looked inside. It was filled with clothes. Some looked old and some new. Emily pushed and pulled a few things around and found kids clothes, shoes, trench coats, leather jackets, ties, dresses, hats. And she only looked at the surface.
“Nope! I’m done! That’s it!” she yelled and bolted to the ladders.
Owen looked around the room one last time and grabbed the antique golf bag filled with clubs. The dust crept into his lungs and swelled. Owen coughed as he dragged the bag to the hatch. He threw it down the hole before he threw himself down, then grabbed the ladders and launched them upwards and back where they belonged.
“What was that?” asked Owen who continued to stare at the hatch.
“How in the utter hell am I supposed to know!” Emily spat, “This is your fucking house! What’s wrong with you that you didn’t know?”
“I moved in like six hours before you showed up.” said Owen as he spun to his short friend, “And I swear to God that!” he pointed above them both, “Was just wrong. And before you say anything, I have no clue who owned this house before me. Don’t ask.”
Emily threw her arms out, “Oh well that’s great! We might be trapped in a murder house! No…You don’t think that all them outside...”
Owen shook his head and marched to his bedroom, “I really fucking hope not. Let’s just find stuff and never talk about it again.”
The Ground Floor
Grace was, without a doubt, the best of everyone in weapon hunting. She scuttled around from room to room; collecting anything she thought could either be stabbed or swung with, then dumped it all in the middle of the living room. It was an effective little system she had built for herself. After walking into a room, Grace looked around it carefully then deduced if anything was zombie killing worthy. She did miss a few things that those clued into the gruesome anatomy of a zombie may have selected, but considering her limited knowledge on the subject, she still worked admirably. Daniel had a little more trouble. Mostly because, well, he had no clue whatsoever about what could be useful and anytime he happened upon something, Grace snatched it up before he had a chance to. So as a result, they (they in this instance meaning Grace with a useless Daniel in tow) both finished before anyone else and stood in the kitchen with Lucy who was doing the dishes. And when they heard the boys scream, Lucy marched away.
“Are you dying?” she asked from above the basement stairs.
“Err…no…?” she heard Jack reply.
“Then shut up!” Lucy shouted back, then walked into the kitchen.
“Erm, Lucy, are you alright?” Daniel asked.
Lucy sighed, “About as alright as I can be in the middle of an apocalypse.”
“Oh,” said Daniel, “yeah, me too. It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“Well, apocalypses don’t usually happen.” Grace said and started stacking their limited noodle reserves into a little tower.
“Not usually, no.” Lucy said bluntly.
Grace, without a hint of malice or disingenuousness, which is how she usually spoke, asked, “So what’s it like being trapped in the middle of an apocalypse with an ex-boyfriend? You might be the only person in the world that’s happening to.”
While thinking carefully about her answer, Lucy poured herself a glass of water.
“Awkward?” she took a drink. “I know me and Owen have our difficulties, but I do like him. I do. And I want us to go back to being friends. But being around him all the time is...its fucking hard. I can’t really put it into words. It’s just…difficult.”
Grace nodded and stood away from the noodles, happy with the tower she had built, “I can imagine.” Then in her usual odd way simply left the room without another word.
She walked into the living room and started spreading out everything she had found. Dan
iel followed her and helped. Lucy, however, spent quite a while looking down at the glass in her hand and thinking. Of all the people to be trapped in a house with, an ex? Really? This was a new level of madness, even for her. She shook the thoughts from her head, ran her hand through her hair before walking into the living room and sitting down on the floor beside the weapons.
Then Jack and Cameron stumbled in carrying their potential weapons on their shelved arms. They dropped them down, threw themselves on the sofa, and sparked up a cigarette to calm their nerves. But they couldn’t wipe those stupid grins from their faces and occasionally they would glance at each other and burst into laughter. The other three ignored them.
Then it was Emily and Owen and habitually they were once again all congregated in the living room.
Owen and Emily sat down at opposite ends of the room and said nothing.
“What happened to you two?” Cameron asked.
Both Emily and Owen glared at him.
“Don’t ask.” said Owen as shivers ran up his spine and he shuddered.
“Okay then. Freaks.” Jack said, “Let’s just check what we’ve got.”
So they did. They had:
Fourteen antique golf clubs.
One baseball bat.
One skateboard.
Three frying pans.
Three large kitchen knives.
Four smaller kitchen knives.
Seven empty glass bottles.
One hammer.
One wrench.
One corkscrew.
Two curtain poles.
And one pair of large scissors.
“This is actually not a bad lot. And those golf clubs are going to come in stupidly handy.” said Owen as he looked at their weapons. As did everyone else.
It’s one thing to barricade yourself in a house and keep safe; it is an entirely different thing to attack another person, no matter how dead they may already be. Owen knew that. He'd loved zombies since he was a kid. But this was real. He had already attacked a few, and that was not a pleasant thing to think about, and he knew that if he was going to stay alive he was going to have to do it again. Owen felt a stone-like weight sink in his chest. And as he looked at the people he was trapped with, he knew they felt the same. The room was quiet, and everyone in it looked sombre. Except Grace, she looked sleepy.
“We should set up a sleeping pattern, I think.” Grace said, “Maybe two people stay up and watch the house. Does the book say anything?”
“Err, let me just check,” said Owen as he picked up the book and flicked through the pages, “Yep. Says to do the two-people thing. So how we doing this then?”
“We can sort it out in a bit. But I’m fucking starving. Is there even enough for us to eat?” Jack asked.
Grace and Lucy made everyone a meal: quiche and more noodles. They ate in silence and inhaled their food. After that, Emily and Cameron nominated themselves to take the first watch, then Jack and Owen to take the second.
***
Night had appeared fast, but Owen lay awake. He could hear zombie growls, his windows being thumped, and a harsh wind rattle the house. He slid out of bed and into the quiet hallway, where he heard sobbing. He followed it to his bathroom, and there he recognised it as Lucy’s. He hovered. Staring at the door. Then left.
As he descended the staircase he found Emily and Cameron sitting on the bottom steps, talking.
“You want to head off and I’ll take over?” he asked.
“What you doin’ up?” Emily asked.
“Couldn’t sleep.” said Owen, “On you go. I think Lucy could use the company just now.”
“You kidding?” Emily said with a look of revulsion, “I even attempt to, I dunno, make sure she’s okay or whatever, she’ll just say she’s fine and tell me to fuck off. I don’t want to end up on the bad side of her being that proud way she goes. I’ll stay here.”
Owen let one, breathed laugh escape him. “Yeah, you’re right. Cam? You want to get some sleep then?”
Cameron shook his head, “Nope. I’m going to check the kitchen again if you two want to take the living room.”
“Sounds good.” said Owen. He watched Cameron slip away then grabbed Emily’s hand and started walking towards his living room with her. “Come on.”
They walked to the window, sat on the sofa and looked outside at the blackness.
“Owen?”
“Emily?”
“You owe me fifty quid.”
Owen looked away from the outside and to Emily, “What?”
“Yep!” Emily shouted, “I bet you that we would end up in an apocalypse before we’re thirty!” she threw herself around, faced Owen, and held out her hand, “Pay up, bitch!”
Owen giggled, “Fuck you.” he said, “Do you mind if I pay you once this is over? Don’t have access to cash just now.”
“Hmmmm,” Emily said, “fine. But I’m holding you to that fifty quid.”
Owen cuddled Emily tight.
Day Four
Owen and Jack had been watching the house throughout the night. And as dawn broke the boys found the daylight offensive, so climbed up the stairs and to Owen’s bed. Almost as quickly as he flopped onto the bed, Owen was asleep. And too tired to care about sharing a bed with a man, Jack crawled under the covers and sleep fast found him too.
And as morning slugged on, everyone else woke up and headed to the living room.
The rain hit the windows hard. It fell in sheets and blanketed the house. Emily crawled up the sofa and peered out the window. The zombies were still out there, but they seemed to have immense difficulty moving in the rain. It was as though each drop that hit them sent them in a tizzy because they kept spinning around with their arms waving and teeth bared. They looked like dogs chasing their tails.
Mortimer (an actual dog who couldn’t chase his tail due to excessive roundness) had spent most of his time locked in the room with the pool. It was marble floored and easy to clean up. And he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he just slept on his bed beside the still water.
“I hate this. I hate this.” Daniel muttered to himself, “I hate this.”
“Yeah, I think I may have jumped the gun when I thought this would be fun.” Emily said, then she chuckled to herself and smiled, “I rhymed.”
“And Emily is back to normal. Thought we lost you there for a moment.” said Lucy with a smile.
“Sorry to interrupt, but is there any way we can get clean?” Grace asked.
“Owen has three bathrooms. You’ll be fine. The rest of us are.” said Daniel, who looked, as usual, confused.
“Daniel, it’s not that. It’s…” said Lucy; she looked at her bare feet as she thought about what to say. Well, she knew what to say, she was thinking of how to say it.
But Emily was about as subtle as a shotgun, “It’s the fact that we’re girls. We can’t put on dirty clothes. So we have to walk around with, like, nothing on but towels until our stuff’s clean and dry. Do you see why that might be an issue?”
“Not really…” said Daniel who looked like he was in pain now.
“We’ll be naked…” Emily said.
“And...?”
“We will be naked…”
“Oh.” Daniel said, then his eyes widened, “Ohhhh… I’ve not seen any of you naked before. That would be weird.”
Cameron stood up and started making his way out of the room, “Yeah, no. I’m out. Bye.”
“Can’t say I blame you.” Lucy said. “If I could leave this conversation I would, too.”
“Anyway, how we going to do this? Does Owen have a dryer?” asked Emily.
Lucy nodded, “Yep.”
“Hmmm,” Emily chewed on her bottom lip. “What we should do then is wash all our clothes in one go, and then dry them. And just have a shower or bath one at a time, maybe?”
Grace pulled her legs up and tucked them under herself, “But what if we need to do something? Like if there’s a zombie attack?”
“That’s a fair poi
nt. I don’t really want to be running for my life with nothing but what God gave me.” Emily said. Then she caught Daniel’s face, “McCauley, no. Don’t even think about me in all my wonderful glory.”
And Daniel, who had been thinking about just that since Emily said the word naked (he couldn’t help it, bless him), realised he was thinking about just that and started playing with his hair to distract himself.
Grace pulled her shawl around herself a little tighter.
“Well,” said Lucy as she folded her arms across her chest, “I’m killing this conversation dead. Let’s just start moving, shall we?”
The girls raided Owen’s bathrooms and found the largest towels he had. And as soon as the sleeping boys awoke they crammed their clothes into the washing machine. Grace and Lucy had a shower, and Emily had a bath. She was singing along to the music from her phone and decided to let her friends take care of business for the time being. It’s not like she had anywhere she needed to be, so what was the rush?
Once washed, Grace bundled their clothes into the dryer and sat in the dining room. Lucy found her and together they hid from the boys.
Cameron, as requested by Jack, set up the laptop and camera in what was once a library. “There you go, sorted it for you. You know what to do from here.”
Jack yawned as he sat down beside Cameron, “Thanks, mate.” he said and hunched over the laptop, “It’s brilliant we still have the internet. Wonder how long it’ll last.”
“Do you really think that after this you’ll still get sponsors or subscriptions or whatever? That everything’ll go back to normal?”
“Honestly not sure.” Jack shrugged. “But it’s like having a condom. Rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.”
“…Okay then.” Cameron said.
Jack slapped his fingers on the laptop keyboard, “Right, I know you think it’s mad, but I actually do love my followers and subscribers and that. I genuinely want to know if they’re alright. And if they know that some other people in the world are okay, or if we can give them tips to live through this, then I think that’s the decent thing to do. I mean, I want to know how everyone else is coping. They might as well.”