The Zombie Saga (Book 3): Burn The Dead: Riot

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The Zombie Saga (Book 3): Burn The Dead: Riot Page 9

by Steven Jenkins


  “Bloody hell, that’s young.”

  “Well, you’ve got to start sometime. Best start early.”

  Smiling, Natalie playfully nudges me in the ribs. “You’re an idiot.”

  She glances over at Adriana. “So how long has she been sleeping?”

  I follow her gaze and then shrug. “Don’t know. Not long. Not even sure if she is sleeping. But she’s been pretty quiet for the past few hours.”

  “Poor woman. Do you think she’ll be okay?”

  “Who knows? I’d be pretty messed up, though. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Natalie replies with a nod. “No one should have to see a loved one turn into one of those things. It’s not right.”

  My eyes are beginning to burn with tiredness, the effects of the cocaine well and truly gone. “It’s probably best not to think about it. This will all be over soon enough. They can’t just leave us in here to die.”

  Yawning loudly, Natalie puts her hands behind her head. “I hope not. Can’t stand another day stuck in this room.”

  “You tired?”

  “Shattered,” she replies, yawning for the second time.

  “Yeah, me too. How about we try to get a few hours’ sleep?”

  “What about the door?” Natalie asks, anxiously. “What if they try to get in?”

  “We’ll hear them. And Jonny’s still awake. He’s not likely to get much sleep tonight. Trust me, we’ll be fine.”

  Natalie nods again, and then squeezes in a little tighter to me. “You don’t mind, do you? It’s getting a little chilly in here.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I reply, trying to hide my enthusiasm to have her body next to mine. “Knock yourself out.”

  “Thanks.”

  She turns to face me and rests her head on my chest, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow. Even being here, sat just a few feet away from a dead man, this still feels good. I drape my arm over the top of her back and shoulder, pulling her in even closer.

  I shut my eyes.

  “I’m glad I met you, Alfie,” Natalie says quietly, under her breath.

  Opening my eyes, I look down at her. “Me too.”

  “Goodnight.”

  “Yeah, goodnight,” I repeat, kissing her on the top of the head—instantly regretting it. Does it make me come across a bit desperate, a little wet?

  But then she opens her eyes, brings her head up to mine, and then kisses me on the lips.

  In the moment, I forget where I am.

  The kiss lasts just a few seconds before she puts her head back onto my chest. But that will do me. I’m not greedy.

  Unable to conceal my great big grin on my face, all I can think about is how awesome it is to have her to watch over. If I couldn’t save my best friend, at least I can protect her.

  Just as I start to close my eyes again, I notice Jonny staring at me, his eyes glazed over with poison. He shakes his head slowly and then disappears behind the bar.

  I’m too tired to worry about him now. Fuck him. I’ll deal with it in the morning.

  18

  “Where are my trainers?” I ask Wendy as she scoops up Harry’s Lego, which is scattered across the living-room carpet.

  She looks up and shushes me because Phil is asleep on the couch, sleeping off another afternoon of whiskey.

  I mouth a sorry and then carry on looking for the trainers in the kitchen. Knowing Harry, he’s thrown them in the dishwasher. Little shit.

  Rosy and Abbey, the twins sisters from Hell, are sitting at the table sharing the laptop. They’re probably on Facebook, cyber-bullying some poor girl, or pretending to be the same person to freak some boyfriend out. I gave up trying to figure out what goes through their heads years ago. As foster sisters go, they’re pretty vile, even for thirteen-year-olds. But at least they’re loyal—to each other. The rest of us aren’t so lucky.

  “Get the fuck out, Alfie,” Abbey barks at me, her eyes still on the screen. “No one wants you here.”

  “Fuck you too, Abs,” I retort, scanning the room for the trainers. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

  Rosy chuckles. “We will in four months. And then you’ll be out on your black ass.”

  Before I even get the chance to retaliate, Wendy comes storming into the kitchen, the whites of her eyes glowing with rage. “If I ever hear you speak to your brother like that again, then I swear to God I’ll ram my boot so far up both your asses, you’ll be tasting leather for a month.” She slams the laptop shut and leans over it, glaring at the two girls. “Do I make myself clear?”

  “Sorry, Wend,” Rosy says, her voice trembling.

  “Yeah, sorry, Wend,” Abbey says, too frightened even to look at her. I don’t blame her. Wendy can be a real hard ass when she wants to be. You’ve gotta love that fire. Shame that it doesn’t extend to Phil.

  “It’s not me you should be apologising to,” Wendy says. “It’s your brother.”

  “He’s not our brother,” Rosy points out. “Do we look related?”

  “He is while he’s living under my roof,” Wendy replies, firmly. “We’re all family here. No matter what. No exceptions. You got that?”

  The twins turn to me, struggling to make eye contact. It looks painful but serves the bitches right. “Sorry, Alf,” the twins say at the same time. “Won’t happen again.”

  It definitely will.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I reply, trying to hide the pleasure engraved across my face. “I’ll be out of your hair in four months, anyway.”

  Wendy shakes her head. “What? Why would you say that?”

  “Because I’ll be eighteen. I’ll be too old to be your foster kid. But it’s okay, though. I can take care of myself.”

  Wendy places her hand on my shoulder and smiles. “Alfie, I would never kick you out onto the street. I’m your mother. Just because you won’t officially be my foster son, don’t think for one second that I’ll stop being there for you.”

  “Really?”

  Wendy puts her hands on both of my cheeks and forces a kiss on my lips. “I love you to bits, Alf. But you need your head read if you think that I’d ever abandon one of my children. This is your home. For as long as you need it. Okay?”

  Beaming, I take hold of Wendy’s hand. She really is the best. All the mother anyone could ever wish for. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask. “Ginge said I could crash over at his place—you know, until I get myself sorted.”

  Wendy snorts. “Over my dead body.”

  The weight of leaving, with no money, and no flat, suddenly begins to deflate. I can put up with these maniacs as long as I have Wendy. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  She starts to walk towards the hallway, but then stops at the doorway. “And anyway, how can you stay at Ginge’s house?” she turns to me. “He’s dead.”

  “What?” I ask, unsure if I heard right.

  “Ginge is dead,” she repeats, a slow smirk forming on her lips. “Remember? You let all those dead people eat your best friend alive. They gutted him like a pig. Surely you haven’t forgotten already?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Wendy!”

  “Watch your language, boy,” Wendy replies, her eyes now grey, her olive skin fading, draining with every step towards me. “It’s not my fault you couldn’t save the only real friend you’ve ever had.”

  “Shut up!” I scream, backing away from her as she creeps towards me, her face now light green, the skin around her eyes and mouth cracking, her teeth yellowing.

  “What’s the matter, Alf?” she asks, her stride becoming staggered, disjointed. “Feeling guilty?”

  As my back hits the fridge, I glance over at the twins. But they’ve vanished, replaced by two skeletons; brown, decomposing flesh just about clinging to the bone. Their permanent grinning skulls turn to me; twisting without the aid of muscle and ligament.

  I can’t take the sight. I can’t breathe.

  Someone wake me. This isn’t real.

  “Don’t be afraid, Alfie,” th
e twins say in unison. “You’ll be dead soon. Like Ginge. Like everyone you’ve ever loved.”

  I want to close my eyes but I can’t.

  That thing is not Wendy.

  This is not my kitchen.

  Please. Someone help me!

  The twins start to shriek. Wendy reaches me, grabs hold of my t-shirt, opens her mouth, and screams into my face.

  My eyes finally shut, but the sound is still there.

  * * *

  I wake to the sound of screaming.

  My eyelids spring open in a panic, my vision foggy. The haze quickly lifts, and I see Adriana bawling at Jonny as she kneels in front of Ted. Jonny has his fist pointed down at her.

  I leap to my feet; Natalie follows me up. “What the hell’s happened?” I ask, using my arm to keep Natalie behind me.

  “He’s lost it again,” Curtis says as he stands next to the sofa. “He’s fucking nuts.”

  “Keep out of this you Cardiff cunt!” Jonny roars. “This stupid bitch better move out of my way, or—”

  “Or what?” Natalie interrupts, trying to push past me. “You’ll smash her face in?”

  “This Nec needs to go,” Jonny orders, his words a little slurry. “Before he kills someone.”

  Ted’s gag has somehow managed to come out of his mouth; it’s now hanging around his neck like a scarf.

  “Leave him alone,” Adriana sobs. “You can’t have him. He’s not yours. He’s mine.”

  “He’s going through that window,” Jonny says, pointing at the glass. “And if you don’t get the fuck out of my way, then you’re going with him.”

  “Jonny, step away from her,” I tell him. “You can’t throw him through the window. That’s her husband.”

  “It’s not anymore,” Jonny replies, callously. “He’s dead. This is just a monster. And monsters need to die.”

  “The only monster in here is you!” Natalie snaps. “Now step away from her, right now!”

  “Why don’t you just piss off with that nigger traitor there,” Jonny says without even looking at us, “and take your stinking brother with you. You stupid bitch.”

  “What the fuck is your problem?” I ask, a sea of rage bubbling up inside. “Do you seriously think that football matters after everything that’s happened?”

  “It’s got fuck all to do with football!” Jonny screams. “It’s about loyalty!”

  Natalie slips past me, heading for Jonny.

  “No, Natalie!” Curtis shouts. “Get away from him!”

  Just as she reaches him, Jonny pushes her in the chest, propelling her backwards onto the floor.

  “You fucking twat!” I scream as I advance towards him, both fists clenched. “I’m gonna smash your teeth in!”

  “Come on, then!” Jonny says, smirking, waving me over with both hands. “What are you waiting for?”

  From nowhere, Curtis throws a punch at Jonny, catching him on the side of his face. Jonny barely flinches; he just turns his head and drives his fist square into Curtis’ chin. Eyes rolling back, Curtis collapses, the back of his skull slamming into the hard carpet. He’s knocked out! Natalie races over to her brother, kneeling by his side. “You’re an animal!” she barks at Jonny, floods of tears running down his cheeks. “Someone should throw you out that window!”

  Still on the floor, protecting her husband, Adriana shields her face as Jonny raises both his fists up, ready to take on any one of us.

  “You want some too?” he asks me, still sneering even after everything he’s done. “Do you, Alfie? Come on, you black pussy!”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask him, unable to believe how much of a prick he’s being. I’ve never seen him like this before. “You can’t treat people like this. We’re supposed to be friends. We’ve known each other for years. I know you’re hurting, but—”

  Out of nowhere, Ted thrusts his upper body forward, clamping his jaws around the side of Adriana’s neck.

  In a frenzy, I race over to her. “Look out!” I cry as a jet of blood sprays all over the bar and floor. She screams out in agony as he tears off a mouthful of flesh. Grasping her arm, I try to pull her away, but Jonny yanks me backwards onto the floor.

  “Leave her!” he shouts, standing over me, his foot pressed down on my chest. “It’s too late!”

  Pushing his leg away, I scramble to my feet. The sound of gurgling coming from Adriana is unbearable. No more screams. I try to push past Jonny to get to her, but I can’t; he’s too strong. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I bark at him, seething with disbelief. “We can’t just leave her.”

  “He needs to feed,” Jonny says, firmly, shoving me with one hand into a stool. “If it’s not her, it’ll be one of us.”

  “I don’t care! Get the fuck out of my way!”

  I turn to Natalie for support; she’s kneeling next to her unconscious brother, staring at Ted as he devours his dead wife.

  I think about pulling Adriana away from the Nec. But now it really is too late. There’s too much blood, a waterfall, gushing from her throat, pooling around them. I’ve never seen so much blood. I feel sick. Dizzy.

  I need to get out of here.

  “See what you’ve done,” Jonny shouts as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his knife. “See what you let happen. This is all your fault.”

  “Put the knife away, Jonny,” I say, slowly backing away. “Don’t be stupid now.”

  “I said we should’ve thrown him out,” Jonny continues. “But no, you had to go all righteous on me; you had to play the Saint, didn’t you? Well, look where that’s got us. Now we’re stuck in here with two Necs. Good job, you fucking twat!”

  “I said put it away!”

  “Why don’t you make me, then?” Jonny asks, smirking like this is all just a drunken argument down at The Farmers Arms. “Come on.”

  “Shut up!” Natalie snaps. “I’m sick to death of hearing that stupid voice of yours! You’re just a bully! A coward with a knife! That’s all you are! And that’s all you’ll ever be!”

  Jonny sniggers. “Yeah, I’m a bully, am I? I’m a bully? Are you sure about that, sweetheart?

  “Yes,” she replies, “I’m fucking positive!”

  Jonny motions with his head in my direction. “Well, why don’t you ask your nigger boyfriend over there what he’s got in his pocket then? And don’t be thinking that’s a big black cock he’s got in there.”

  “Watch your mouth,” I warn him. “I mean it.”

  “Go on, Alfie,” he says, taunting me, “whip it out. Show the lady your shiny weapon.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “What’s the matter?” Jonny asks, smugly. “Ashamed she’ll think differently of you when she sees it?”

  “Don’t rise to him, Alfie,” Natalie says. “He’s not worth it.”

  Jonny looks at her with a huge grin spread across his face. “Your boyfriend is just like me. He gets into fights, takes drugs, despises Cardiff—and he’s got a knife in his pocket.”

  It shouldn’t matter about the knife. Not right now, not with all that’s going on. But it does. A cold, unnerving sense of shame creeps over me at the thought of Natalie seeing it. “I never wanted it in the first place. Neither did Ginge. It’s just you—you and your stupid rules and bullshit. I’ve tried to like you; I did everything in my power to follow you, to see the good in you. But you know what, Jonny? You know what? After all these years, after all the fights, all the problems with the police, I’ve realised something.”

  Jonny snorts. “Oh, and what’s that, Alfie?”

  “That there’s fuck all good in you! I’m sorry about your brother—but the both of you are poison. I was a fool to hang around with you. A fucking idiot!”

  “Watch what you say about my brother,” Jonny says, his knuckles turning white as he grips the knife even tighter. “He was twice the man you’ll ever be.”

  “He was a fucking cunt!” I scream. “Just like you!”

  Jonny’s eyes widen with wrath; the blade po
inted firmly at me. “I’m gonna fucking gut you, you stinking nigger!”

  “I don’t need a knife to beat you, Jonny. I’m not weak like you.”

  He shrugs his shoulders, and then slips the knife into his pocket. “Go on then. Take your best shot. I don’t need it either.”

  With no time to think, I bolt towards him, taking hold of his jersey with both hands. I drive his back against the bar, right next to Ted as he chomps down on Adriana. I throw my head forwards, splitting his nose. Jonny cries out, but then slams his knee into my groin. I drop in agony. Suddenly I’m thrown backwards when I feel his knuckles connect with my chin. Before I can even get up to retaliate, Jonny has me pinned to the floor, his knees pressing down on my arms. I try to shake his weight off but it’s no use. I keep wriggling, but the pressure on my arms is increasing.

  But I stop struggling when I feel the cold steel blade against my throat.

  “Stop it!” I hear Natalie shout from behind us.

  Jonny looks up at her just as she slams a stool over his head. His body goes limp long enough for me to scuttle away from him. Cupping his bleeding head, Jonny rolls around on the floor, wailing in pain.

  In the moment, I almost forgot about poor Adriana. Ted has already managed to eat half of his wife’s face and neck, even without the aid of two hands.

  Suddenly a low, guttural sound leaves Adriana’s frayed mouth.

  Jesus Christ, she’s still alive.

  She opens her eyes. And then it dawns on me that she’s still very much dead.

  Ted’s jaw stops hacking down on her as if fully aware that she’s no longer a piece of meat, something to gorge on. His wife is now one of them—a Nec. And Necs are not food.

  We are.

  Pulling away from Ted, her skin still in his mouth, tearing like damp cardboard, she glares at Jonny as he tries to recover from the blow. My entire body tenses up at the rancid sight.

  With one hand on his head, he points his blade at her.

  Moving away as she snarls with blood-soaked teeth, I feel my back come in contact with the wall. “What the fuck do we do now? We’re screwed.”

 

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