Year of the Zombie (Book 8): Scratch

by Moody, David

  ‘Well the kids needed a break and I didn’t have time to arrange anything else,’ she answered quickly, deciding that was all the explanation he needed.

  ‘Daddy’s taking us to Disneyland soon,’ Holly said, eyes wide with enthusiasm.

  ‘Is that right?’

  ‘Yeah, in America,’ Jenny added, equally excited. ‘We’re going on a plane.’

  ‘You should see the hotel we’re staying in,’ Ben said. ‘It’s amazing. It’s got at least four pools and there’s this massive slide...’

  ‘You can show your mum later,’ Gary said.

  ‘And were you planning on telling me you wanted to take the kids out of the country?’ Jody asked.

  ‘I’d have got round to it, but only because I have to,’ he quickly replied.

  ‘Don’t get their hopes up,’ she warned, then she looked directly at Ben who was looking distinctly unimpressed. ‘Your dad has a habit of making promises and not delivering.’

  ‘I bet you could do with some coffee,’ Charlie said, interrupting at just the right moment. She led Jody out to the kitchen. ‘Probably not a bad thing to let them daydream at the moment. Take their minds off reality.’

  Jody sighed. ‘I know. I’m sorry. It’s just they’ve already had enough broken promises to last a lifetime.’

  Charlie handed her a mug and Jody held it tight with both hands. The heat was welcome: just on the right side of painful. She hadn’t realised how cold she was. She hadn’t realised she was shaking, either. She hadn’t realised she’d lost a sandal and that she was still in her pyjamas and they were soaked with other people’s blood. She hadn’t realised she was sobbing.

  ‘Let it all out,’ Charlie said and she sat her down in the nearest chair. ‘I’ll go get you something warm to put on.’

  ***

  Washed and showered and fed and watered.

  Jody sat in the kitchen-diner and watched the huge TV on the wall in disbelief. It wasn’t even the biggest TV in the house, according to Ben. Apparently Dad had four TVs, which seemed pointless to Jody as there were only two people living here most of the time. And Ben said they were all bigger than the TV they had at home, which made her feel like a failure because they only had thirty-two inches when all of Dad’s TVs were at least forty. Fortunately the kids were currently distracted by another TV on another wall and Netflix, a Playstation, and Dad.

  The news had begun to resemble the trailer for a horror movie. The panic she’d sensed earlier in the day showed no sign of abating, but at least she could now see some kind of authoritarian response to the crisis beginning to emerge. The infection was spreading east, but appeared to be gradually being contained. The military were taking control of the affected areas and isolating (and presumably destroying) the infected. Some cities, as Charlie had said, were like warzones. Hazmat suited soldiers were going door to door in scenes which would have looked hackneyed and clichéd if they hadn’t been so absolutely fucking terrifying. A camera crew followed one group as they entered a remarkably ordinary-looking house and virtually strip-searched its terrified occupants, looking for scratches and other tell-tale signs of infection. Unrelenting shaky-cam images.

  Jenny was beside her. She didn’t know how long she’d been there.

  ‘Is it because of the scratches? Is that how it gets them?’

  ‘I think so, love,’ Jody replied.

  ‘Are they dead?’

  ‘That’s what the man on the TV’s saying.’

  ‘Gross,’ she said, and she screwed up her face then disappeared back to find Dad.

  ‘Pretty grim, eh?’ Charlie said, sitting down next to Jody.

  ‘You can say that again.’

  An overlong pause.

  ‘Look, I just wanted to say that—’

  Jody silenced her with a wave of her hand. ‘You don’t have to say anything.’

  ‘I know that, but I want to say something. It’s important to me. I know more about you and what happened between you and Gary than I probably should, and I want you to know it’s because he’s told me and not because I’ve asked.’

  ‘Then I hate to think what you’ve been told.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter. But I also know it must be really hard for you being here, and I don’t want to do anything that makes you feel more uncomfortable than you already do.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I mean it.’

  ‘I know you do. I’ve got nothing against you. Christ, I didn’t even know your name until this morning.’

  ‘Yeah. It must be difficult for the kids, though. I remember when my mum and dad split up and I—’

  ‘Spare me, love, please. Not today.’

  ‘You’re right. Not today.’

  On the TV now was a clip that had been running every fifteen minutes or so: a guide to spotting (and avoiding) infection. Jody thought it was amusing (and slightly terrifying) how even something as serious as this had been reduced to a viewer-friendly package – a quick burst of flashy edits, funky graphics and attention-grabbing soundbites.

  Stay indoors. If you must leave your home, cover up.

  Don’t take any chances. The infected may look like your friends and family and other loved ones, but they’re not them.

  The incubation period is generally thought to be between one and three hours, but there have been unconfirmed reports of people ‘turning’ up to ten hours after an attack.

  If anyone you are with has any unexplained scratches, cuts or other skin lesions, isolate them.

  If a person you believe may have been infected is still docile and able to talk, tape up their hands.

  Both Jody and Charlie laughed out loud at that one. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Charlie said. ‘You think that’s going to help? Who writes this shit?’

  ‘You know what it’s like... half the stuff we hear on the news is bullshit. They’re empty words designed to stop people panicking, that’s all.’

  ‘Mind you, I think panic is perfectly justified today.’

  ‘I think you’re absolutely right.’

  Gary entered the kitchen, and the conversation abruptly ended. He fetched himself a coffee from the pot. ‘Not talking about me, I hope.’

  ‘She wouldn’t want to hear what I’ve got to say about you,’ Jody answered quickly, then regretted it.

  Gary grinned broadly, then disappeared again.

  ‘Sorry,’ Jody said.

  ‘Not a problem.’

  ‘Yes it is. It’s my problem. I’m the only one here who despises Gary.’

  ‘He can be a real pain in the arse at times, I’ll admit.’

  Jody bit her tongue and resisted the temptation to say anything more.

  An instantly familiar, instantly recognisable high-pitched scream came from somewhere deep in the depths of the house. Jody was on her feet instantly. ‘It’s Holly,’ she said, and ran to find her youngest daughter.

  She wasn’t with the others. Jody found the unfamiliar house maze-like, and her panic increased with each empty room she checked. Charlie found her in the upstairs study, standing on a chair and bawling her eyes out. ‘Spider,’ she wailed, pointing down at the ground. Jody stamped on it then lifted her daughter down, relieved.

  Gary, Ben and Jenny weren’t far behind. Holly pushed away from Jody and ran over to her dad who scooped her up and swung her around. ‘Don’t worry, you’re safe here, little one. Daddy won’t let anything hurt you.’

  ***

  This was turning out to be a peculiarly well-contained apocalypse. Because of the geography of the outbreak, its progress had been slowed almost to a (dead) stop. The effort of the authorities and military had been concentrated on preventing things getting any worse, and the focus of their attention had therefore been those outlying areas on the very edge of the infection. This left Jody, Gary, Charlie and millions of other people effectively stranded. They were in the eye of the hurricane and though it might have been safer elsewhere, getting anywhere else today was going to be nigh on impossible.


  The area around the house was crawling with dead people. The first attack came several hours later.

  Three infected, attracted by a flickering TV screen burning bright on an otherwise dull and overcast day, forced their way through a gap in the vegetation at the bottom of Gary and Charlie’s long garden. They made their way towards the house in silent unison, alone but together, driven by an unspoken collective intent. They scuttled, walked and crawled, making no effort to disguise their ominous approach, yet were completely unnoticed.

  Gary was lying on the living room floor with the kids, playing a board game. Charlie sat next to him and watched, occasionally offering advice and keeping Gary in check. He was a bad loser, even when the stakes were this low.

  Jody was on the other side of the room, staring into space and trying to work out how and when she was going to get home. If she’d even have a home to get back to.

  Ben was the first to notice them. He initially thought it was his eyes playing tricks. He should have been wearing his glasses, but he never did because of that time Stuart at school took the piss out of him and threatened to stamp on them and break them and Mum would have gone crazy if that had happened because they cost her half a month’s money from Dad and... and wait... was that the wind blowing the trees? Was there something in the garden he hadn’t noticed before? Had someone hung some washing on the line?

  They started to come into focus.

  Ben was too scared to say anything in case the monsters outside heard him (even though he knew that was stupid). The words were stuck in his throat and the longer they were there, the harder they were to dislodge.

  ‘Mum...’ he eventually said.

  He glanced over at her but she wasn’t listening. She’d zoned-out. She was tracing patterns in the wallpaper with her eyes, doing everything she could to forget she was trapped in her ex-husband’s huge new house with his fucking drop-dead gorgeous new girlfriend.

  ‘Mum...’ Ben said again.

  He could see them much more clearly now. They didn’t make sense. There was skin where there should have been clothes and bends in their bodies where there should have been none. One had a broken neck and its head was all over to one side but it kept walking like it didn’t matter.

  Another one looked too tall to be real. Its arms and legs seemed to go on forever.

  The last one – the smallest one – was the one that scared him most of all. It was its face... he already knew that when he tried to get to sleep tonight, the grotesque face he currently couldn’t take his eyes off would be staring back at him from the darkness. Huge, hollowed eyes, black as night. A naked torso covered in deep, dark scratches. A twisted mouth which had become a slanted, humourless grin.

  ‘Mum...’ Ben said once more. Louder this time.

  Jody didn’t hear her son, but Gary did. He turned around and saw that the nearest of the infected was almost up against the glass. ‘Fuck!’ he shouted, scrambling to his feet and kicking bits of board game everywhere. Jenny tried to catch the tokens, dice and cards but her little hands hadn’t got anywhere near any of them before the first of the three creatures walked straight into the patio window, making her jump with fright and scaring her half to death. She screamed, and when she screamed, Holly screamed too.

  The girls cowered behind their dad as he retreated deeper into the room.

  On her feet now, filled with a now-familiar sense of overwhelming dread, Jody too backed away. The six of them stood up against the wall together, hiding in plain sight and pinned into position with fear. ‘What the hell do we do?’ Charlie asked, her voice a panicked whisper.

  ‘Just wait,’ Gary suggested. ‘They’ll disappear soon enough.’

  ‘You think?’ Jody said. ‘Are these the first ones you’ve seen? Because I’ve got news for you, they’re not going anywhere.’

  ‘Fucking great.’

  ‘Mind your language, Gary. The kids don’t need to hear it.’

  ‘Don’t tell me what to do. We’re not married anymore, remember.’

  ‘Thank Christ.’

  ‘This isn’t really the best time for a domestic,’ Charlie warned them both.

  ‘You’re right. Sorry,’ Jody mumbled.

  Two of the three things outside were watching the people inside. It was clear from the way they moved their heads – inhuman and animal-like, but definitely interested – that infecting the uninfected was all that mattered. The third of their number was trapped a short distance away from the house, its clothing snagged on a low-hanging fruit tree branch. The smallest creature – the hideous, nightmarish one which Ben still couldn’t take his eyes off – was trying pointlessly to claw its way through the glass. Its fingers squeaked against the window ceaselessly. When it realised it couldn’t get through, it began to hammer with heavy fists. And when it became clear its fists weren’t going to make any difference, it tried another tactic. The damn thing craned its head back on its shoulders, impossibly far, then butted the window. The noise was nauseating. Jody wasn’t sure whether it was the glass or the infected thing’s skull which would give way first. The door rattled and shook with every vicious impact, and every time it drew its head back, the creature appeared even more deformed than before. Its forehead was becoming flattened: brain and bone being mushed together.

  ‘Are they going to be able to get in?’ Gary asked.

  ‘They won’t, will they?’ said Ben, panicking.

  ‘Depends how long that one’s head lasts,’ Jody answered from a position of zero authority.

  ‘We have to do something,’ Charlie said.

  ‘Like what?’ Gary asked.

  ‘Like get rid of them.’

  ‘She’s right,’ Jody said. ‘It’s our only choice. We can’t risk the kids’ safety.’

  ‘Jesus, what about our safety?’ Gary said.

  Jody lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘That goes without saying. They’re screwed if we are.’

  She wasn’t waiting around. She left the room. Charlie and Gary exchanged glances then followed her out. They found her turfing through the coats hanging up in the hall. She found a long leather ladies coat and put it on and zipped it up. It looked expensive. It was really nice. She hoped Charlie had bought it herself because Gary had never bought her anything like this in the eleven years they were together.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Gary demanded, though the answer was obvious.

  ‘You going to help me or just stand there looking useless?’

  Gary glared at her. ‘Do you really think this is a good idea?’

  ‘No, but I think it’s the only idea I’ve got.’

  ‘We need to think very carefully about this. If we go out there we could end up—’

  His words were truncated by more noise from the room they’d just left. The kids screamed. Was the door becoming loose? Was the glass weakening? Was it about to shatter? He checked on the children and saw that the infected thing’s head had popped like a balloon, but it was still attacking like it hadn’t even noticed. It continued to smack its bloody neck-stump against the glass again and again and again.

  Out in the hall, Charlie grabbed another coat from the rack, keen to help. ‘What are you planning?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ Jody admitted. ‘If I think about it too hard I don’t reckon I’ll be able to go out there.’ She rummaged through a drawer and found a pair of gloves and a hat, then found a scarf and wrapped it around the lower part of her face. ‘Make sure they can’t get to your skin,’ she explained, voice muffled.

  Gary returned. Shamed into action, he put on his own coat and gloves. ‘You stay here and look after the kids, Charlie. I’ll go.’

  He marched to the back door, muttering under his breath. Jody wormed her way in front of him, preventing him from getting out until she’d given him his orders. ‘It’s like they said on TV, okay? They don’t want to kill you, they want to infect you. Make sure you stay covered.’

  She went out and he followed.

  Outside it
was cold and windy. The sounds of distant fighting were carried on the breeze. The smell of burning. Far off sirens and screams.

  Gary tried and failed miserably to play down his nervousness. There was nowhere to hide out here. Real and present danger. ‘Can’t believe this is happening,’ he said.

  ‘Well it is. Deal with it.’

  ‘So how do we get rid of them.’

  ‘We ask them to leave.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No, you fucking idiot, not really.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Incapacitate them.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Break their legs. Cut them up.’

  ‘What is this, the fucking Evil Dead?’

  ‘As close as we’re ever going to get to it, yes.’

  ‘What about fire? We could burn them.’

  ‘Good shout. Got anything flammable?’

  ‘Stuff for the barbecue.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘What, the barbecue?’

  ‘No, you arsehole, the lighter fuel.’

  ‘Everything’s in the shed.’

  ‘Great. Where’s the shed?’

  ‘Bottom of the garden.’

  Jody peered down and could just about make out the edge of the shed in the bottom right corner of the garden. It was less than fifty metres away but it felt like miles. ‘Is it locked?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Good.’

  Jody pulled the scarf back up over her mouth. She started to jog along the grass but stopped when she was distracted by movement. The two infected still banging against the patio door hadn’t spotted them, but the rogue one had. He (had it been a he? She thought so, but it was difficult to say with any authority) was heading straight for her.

  At speed.

  Gary grabbed a garden fork he’d left in a flowerbed overnight. The infected was focusing on Jody and she looked past it towards her ex-husband for help, hoping he’d come to her rescue (that’d be a first). Her lack of faith in Gary was well-placed. He was frozen to the spot, feet rooted to the ground like the trees and shrubs he was now doing his best to hide among. He threw the fork over to her like a javelin, shouting ‘here!’ so she knew it was coming.