by Alex South
Was it this he had to accept? Did he have to be at peace with the possibility that he might lose his mind, his soul, his love, his everything, and yet, still exist within all of that loss, as a man who could not live and could not die?
This was something he couldn’t accept. And as he walked on, his fear only seemed to grow. His inner sickness only seemed to get stronger. The little girl, Stacy, he kept thinking of her. Maybe she could sense him now. Maybe she was in his mind. Or was she in everyone’s else’s? Fuck, there were too many options.
He caught himself. He couldn’t speculate like this. He couldn’t go down this path.
But he had to stay alert. It wasn’t even a choice. How could he not? How could he not look for her presence in him? In his friends? Because he had to be vigilante. He had to be. What would happen otherwise?
…
“There’s some houses this way,” said Rob, as they came to a road.
“Is it a village?” said John.
Rob said nothing. John wondered why he was like this, why he didn’t respond sometimes. Could it be the little girl controlling his mind? The idea sat just outside of his reach. He could not rule it out as paranoia, or include it as possibility. So it just stuck there — like a splinter.
“Is it a village?” John tried again.
“No. Houses.” said Rob.
They jumped over the wall and followed the snaking asphalt. Sure enough, they soon came to a row of medium-sized, white stone buildings, standing shoulder to shoulder like proud soldiers — totally isolated by the fields that surrounded them. John’s perspective had him directly in front of these structures, with the road under his feet stretching forward and making a sharp left turn to skim past their small front-gardens. Although each one had a driveway, there were no cars.
“The windows are smashed,” said Jess.
“They’ve been looted,” said Rob.
“Does that mean there isn’t any food?” said Jess.
“There’s two that look okay,” said John
“So, this is a risky moment, yeah?” said Duke. “We’ve seen that they can run, even in sunlight. So listen, follow me, stay alert, don’t lose focus… no splitting up, that’s the other thing, let’s all stay together. All right, we’re going to try the door of that first one, on the right, and then… if it’s empty we can go through the window… actually, forget that. We should have some people stay outside. Just to guard us from the outside, so… er…-”
“You said not to split up,” said Rob sharply.
“I know… but I changed my mind,” said Duke patiently. “So… Jess… are you okay to stay outside and keep watch?”
“Yeah, okay.” She seemed relieved, as if she thought staying outside to be the safest option.
“All right, let’s go,” said Duke.
“We should circle the houses and circle the area. I’ll know how to understand the terrain, and see the best exit and entrance routes,” said Rob – just as Duke took his first step. Duke stopped and turned.
“Good thinking, but we don’t have time. My way is fine for this,” said Duke.
“But we need a full check of the area.”
“Um… okay,” said Duke, suddenly changing his mind, “you’ve got a point; it won’t hurt to circle them before we go in.”
Rob nodded. “Yes.”
“All right, so let’s circle them,” said Duke, starting to walk. There was an awful fluttery sensation in John’s stomach.
…
Laura put Moby Dick down at her side. She was in a single bed, having been moved upstairs by Dreadlocks before everyone left.
She had wanted to read it for ages but the archaic language made it hard work. The words just weren’t staying in her mind. In truth, she was only reading it in the hope that she might fall asleep. But it wasn’t working. She had already missed one night of sleep, and knew, from experience, that messing with her sleep patterns could trigger her insomnia. That couldn’t happen. Not now, not when she needed her body to recover. She needed some Valium. Maybe Poppy had left some behind. It didn’t help that she was very hungry. No food. No sleep. Not exactly what a doctor would prescribe.
She let out a long sigh. She hated being alone like this, unable to shake the idea that her injury might kill her. Dying alone terrified her. In a way, she had already done it once. At the age of sixteen, after getting very drunk, she had taken a bizarre mix of cocaine and magic mushrooms. A hideously bad trip had followed. To her affected mind, all the signs of her impending death were there - increased heartbeat, vomiting, a loss of proper brain function. It had been as real as anything else. She had watched her death unfold. She had understood what it was to watch her physical form collapse, dragging her down with it.
It had been scary when she thought the drugs were killing her, but not as scary as when she didn’t — to be so high you don’t know you’re high — Laura knew that was when the worst of it kicked in.
In the end she had called 999. An ambulance had come. It was humbling and terrifying and, upon later reflection, totally embarrassing.
She had learnt a lot from the experience, including the one thing that was in the back of her mind now, as she searched for something to do: she did not want to die alone.
…
John looked at the long, thin back gardens – all of them exactly the same size and separated from one another by fences. A single, drystone wall marked the boundary between these rectangular pockets of land and the field that he was in.
“All right. We’re going into the garden of that one, the first one on the left,” said Duke.
They moved forwards and climbed inside. John moved out of the flower bed and onto the lawn, which took up most of the space. Gurgling noises rose up from the water fountain in front of him.
His mind had drawn itself fully into his surroundings. He was in the grass. He was in the windows, searching for faces. He slowly moved forwards. He was on the fences, waiting for one of them to climb over. Anything his imagination fed to him, he pre-empted, he adjusted, readying his spirit towards the shadowed threats as they grew and corrupted the air around him.
They came to the back of the house and stopped. Duke put his hands against the French windows and moved his head close to get rid of the reflection.
BAM!
John jerked away. A young girl clawed at the glass, her face distorted as she pushed it against the invisible barrier – her yellow-tinted eyes moving hungry between the members of the group. John stared. A tremendous energy shook in his body, and yet, he was paralysed.
“There’s not much meat on it. Not worth the risk,” said Rob.
Duke looked at him, but said nothing.
“Can she get out?” said Dreadlocks. Everyone scanned the house’s windows and doors. “We should check the front.” Dreadlocks continued.
…
Laura thought about survival. She thought about the house, about all the dangers associated with staying here. Being so reliant on the others felt terrible. Her wound was not just her problem; it was everyone’s. It limited their options. It complicated the logistics of any potential plan. Unless, of course, they left her behind. There was always that.
In truth, she knew that was part of the reason she had agreed to them leaving her alone here. She didn’t want to become the person who put everyone else at risk. She had to kill that dynamic at every opportunity.
She tried to think of ways to pass the time. Elena popped into her head and she considered the possibility of learning Spanish. She would rather continue with Japanese, but that wasn’t possible now, unless she found a book or something. That seemed unlikely.
So, Spanish then. But that was no use now, whilst she was alone. She desperately didn’t want to be stuck with only her own thoughts. They were not being kind to her. What she really needed was her guitar, or any guitar. That would be the ultimate escape. How she would pour her heart, burying herself deep within the spaces in the music, the turns and twists of the song as she squee
zed it from the air and let it fall inside her. But that wouldn’t really work. She had to keep her body still.
She tried to remember if Poppy owned any instruments. Hadn’t she been learning the trumpet at some point? Sure, she had given up, but Poppy didn’t give things up like other people did. She took ‘breaks’, always with the belief that she would return to it when she got the chance. It was a funny characteristic, something that Laura liked to make fun of, her usual focal point being the amount of money that Poppy spent on her membership to the gym she never visited.
This was quite common, Laura knew that. But the funny thing was that Poppy never changed. Every time the membership expired, she renewed it. Poppy took it to another level.
Dread started to grow in her. She needed to piss. And that meant moving. Her body had made one thing very clear to her. Moving hurt. Moving was bad. Laura felt that it could be the difference between living and dying. She picked up the large bottle that Dreadlocks had left on her bed.
…
Duke kicked the front door, taking a few steps back as it swung open. It clearly hadn’t been locked. The hallways looked undisturbed as they entered. Neat stacks of letters rested on a chest of draws. Opposite that was an empty hat stand.
They had moved on from the house with the child. After checking all possible exits, it had become clear that she could not get out. Now they were in the house next to it – deciding that it was worth a try despite the smashed windows.
Duke put his hand up and they stood still for a while, listening.
Now they crept to a door on the left. Duke slowly opened it. It was the kitchen. Many of the cupboards were open and cutlery, mugs, bowls, and plates littered the worktop and floor.
Duke opened a few of the still closed cupboards and drawers. It soon became clear there was no food. Slowly, they moved out of the kitchen and back outside. They joined Jess, standing in the middle of the road.
“Get Elena,” Duke said to her quietly, before turning to the others, “We gotta get one that hasn’t been looted. That one,” he said pointing to the house at the end, with its windows still intact. “is our best chance.”
They waited until Jess and Elena returned.
“Let’s check the back of that one,” said Duke, pointing again. “and then we’ll check out inside. Elena, same as before, you guard the back. Jess, you can stay on the road. All right, come on.”
Leaving Jess, they circled the houses once more, this time from the other direction. The garden of their intended house was covered in fake grass. Duke looked through the windows, then led them back to the front door. To John’s disappointment, it wasn’t locked - a clear sign that it could easily have been looted. Or, an inner voice said, it was all planned. This door was unlocked for a reason. It was a trap.
Duke nodded, and then gestured for them to follow him inside. The group crept forwards. John noticed the staircase had a stairlift. The house had the same layout as the last. So it was that Duke was able to lead them straight to the door of the kitchen. Gently, he pushed it and took a few steps back.
John’s heart skipped a beat.
Blank, yellow eyes stared at them from a tilted-back head. Its jaw hung wide open, with the tongue protruding from its mouth. The zombie’s body stayed completely still, seemingly stuck in its black wheelchair. Only the eyes moved, slowly drifting from one person to the next.
Moments passed with no one breaking the stillness. John glanced around the hallway behind him. His mind flashed images of the rest of the family - undead children, undead parents.
“It can’t walk,” whispered Rob, moving into the kitchen.
“Rob, wait!” Hissed Duke.
Rob ignored him, walking to the zombie and kneeling down to its level. Dreadlocks shouted out in shock. The groans became louder, more anguished.
“Dreadlocks, watch the hallway,” said Duke, before turning to Rob, “Rob, come back now!”
Duke took a few more steps into the room.
Rob turned and looked at them, with a strange, half smile. “We can use it.”
“Don’t. Get away. Get away now.”
“No.”
“Rob!” said Duke
“No… you’re going to kill it.”
“Just… get out… get away…” said Duke.
“It can’t move.”
“Get away!”
“No, you can’t. I need it. I need it for my cure.”
“Get… Get away!”
“My cure. I’m working on a cure for the infection.”
There was a long silence.
“For fuck’s sake, come outside,” said Duke.
“No.”
“Come outside. We can’t do this here.”
Rob didn’t move.
“Everyone, come on. Stay alert,” said Duke turning to leave.
They moved out of the house and into the middle of the road, with Rob following cautiously.
“What happened?” said Jess.
“So,” said Duke, visibly struggling to stay calm as he addressed Rob. “Fucking hell. What’s going on?”
“I need to do tests,” Rob said bluntly.
“Tests… tests for what? For a cure?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” Duke shook his head slightly, “so… what? Tell me.”
“The last zombie. It wasn’t dead. I kept it alive and I almost cured it. But then it died, because… I don’t know why it did. But it was changing into a human before it died.”
There was a long silence as they all stared at him.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” John asked.
Rob shrugged.
“Wait… you sure it was getting better?” said Duke. His right hand still gripped the knife, with his other free to gesture.
“Yes,” said Rob.
“What was it doing?”
“It was talking.”
“But why didn’t you tell us? This is huge,” said John.
Rob didn’t respond.
“I don’t believe you!” said Jess, shaking her head and tightening her lips. Rob said nothing. “He’s full of shit.”
“Jess, go grab Elena. She needs to hear this,” said Duke.
“Yeah. She does,” said Jess. Her eyes lingered as she walked away, staying on Rob with clear intent.
Duke rubbed his forehead. “What’s your cure? What did you do?”
“Can’t say.”
“Why?”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I know you want to get rid of me.”
“Oh… Come on.”
“We don’t want to do that, Rob,” said Dreadlocks.
“You want to get rid of me. You want to kill me. If I tell you the cure, you won’t need me,” said Rob.
“Not this again, Rob,” said Duke. “Come on… please.”
Rob said nothing.
“We’re all working together. That’s how we fight this,” said Dreadlocks.
Duke looked away over the fields for a few seconds.
“Rob. I’m really trying here,” Duke said. “You’ve told me this at the worst possible time. In the middle of all of this.” He gestured to the surrounding area. “And I’m trying; I’m really trying to understand what we should do. And, you’re making that so hard. You’re making that as hard as possible.”
“You’re asking a lot from the group,” said Dreadlocks. “You have to trust us. And we have to trust you. That’s the way.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“But trust is a two way thing,” said Dreadlocks.
Jess returned with Elena.
“Tell her,” Jess said, arms crossed.
Elena looked around the group, clearly unsure what to expect. Duke filled her in on the conversation so far. Her mouth opened wide in disbelief, and after a few questions, she seemed excited by Rob’s claim, even going so far as to suggest that they go back in the house to get the zombie.
“Oh my god… but he’s lying,” said Jess.
“Rob?”
Elena looked at Rob, and then looked around the group.
“What if he isn’t?” said Duke.
“What’s the cure?” Elena asked him.
“He won’t tell us,” said John.
Jess lifted her hands up in a ‘this is what I’m talking about’ gesture. “What a surprise.”
“Yeah, but he’s not wanted to tell us anything since we met him. That’s how he is anyway,” said John.
For a second Jess seemed to be looking to the heavens, as if searching for someone who would understood her. “Yeah, because he’s full of shit.” Her eyes now moved back to John. “How is he going to have made a cure?”
“Rob, you have to tell us,” said Elena.
“It’s complicated. I’ll show you at home.”
“But, what it is? An injection? A substance?” said Elena.
“It’s…a substance. I give it to them.”
“What is it?” said Jess
“It’s…I’ll show you at the house. I promise. I’ll show you.”
“Come on,” said John. “You’ve got to tell us. Please.”
Rob stared at the ground for an impossibly long time. “It’s my blood,” he said finally, “That’s the cure. My blood can resist the disease.”
No-one spoke for a while.
“Well…” said Duke, “that’s it. Everyone… just… vote… we can’t stand here all day… just vote and we’ll move on.”
“I can make food,” said Rob. “We can eat it, if the cure doesn’t work.”
“Rob, shut up. Yes or no,” said Duke,
John had made a decision. If there was a chance that it could lead to a cure, no matter how small, it seemed worth the risk. The zombie couldn’t move. If they were going to work on a cure, then this was the best opportunity.
“Yes,” said John.
“No,” said Jess.
“No,” said Dreadlocks.
“Yes,” Elena said.
“Yes,” said Rob.