The Undead the Second Week Compilation Edition Days 8-14

by RR Haywood

  It may be the hunger, or twelve days of eating shit snack food, but I cannot remember ever eating anything so nice.

  ‘Boys, you need to slow down or you’ll be sick,’ Mildred remarks. I pause with the fork halfway in my mouth and look at the lads attacking the food with gusto. Shrugging I keep going.

  The beer is cool and refreshing. The bottles get drained and April goes to get more for us. Nick waves her back with a mouthful of food and helps himself, plonking a whole load of them in the middle.

  I eat and eat, savouring every bite and feeling the pleasure of chewing real food. My stomach fills quickly, having shrunk from not eating decent meals for so long. Clarence just keeps going, his arm dropping and lifting as he pushes the food into his mouth.

  ‘Can zombies eat then?’ Cookey asks between mouthfuls.

  ‘We prefer the term living challenged,’ Reginald replies, ‘and yes we can eat.’

  ‘Living challenged?’ Cookey lifts his eyebrows, ‘is that what you call yourselves?’

  ‘That’s what Reggie calls us,’ Marcy replies.

  ‘I thought you just wanted to eat brains and shit…well not shit as in poo but you know brains and flesh,’ Cookey continues without a care in the world. We all look to Marcy, waiting for the reply.

  ‘We do,’ she says bluntly, ‘every one of us feels an incredible urge to eat human flesh…don’t look at me like that, you know exactly what we are…but…’

  ‘Hang on,’ I cut in pushing my empty plate away.

  ‘Let me finish,’ she then cuts me off, ‘do you want some more?’ She asks motioning towards my plate.

  ‘No, no thank you, it was lovely but I’m full.’

  ‘Is there more?’ Nick asks, ‘is it in that pot? Can I get some?’

  ‘Help yourself, take what you want,’ Marcy calls out as he heads into the cooking area. The others, apart from Dave and I, head over to re-fill their plates. Marcy moves down so she’s sat closer, pretty much opposite me.

  ‘As I was saying,’ she continues, ‘er…will this conversation put you off your food?’ She asks the lads.

  ‘No fucking chance,’ Nick quips, then looks at Dave with an apologetic expression, ‘I meant no, er…no it won’t.’

  ‘Thank you Nicholas,’ Dave nods.

  Marcy reaches for a bottle of beer and screws the cap off, ‘we all have the urge, it’s like the strongest thing you can imagine…and it never stops, but…we are still people with bodies the same as you, and we need food and water the same as you.’

  ‘But those things don’t eat, they just stand there drooling in the same place for days and days waiting for someone to come along.’

  ‘And we are not those things,’ Marcy replies, ‘well, yes,’ she nods, ‘the ones in the tents would be if they were left alone, but…’ her voice trails off, ‘it’s hard to explain.’

  ‘Try,’ I prompt her.

  She tilts her head as though in thought, her hair falls to one side as her mouth purses, ‘right…well…sorry to bring this up but Darren turned me, he could speak and think but he was messed up, you were the only thing he could focus on,’ she looks at me, ‘he was driven to destroy you. I saw you kill him, I saw all of you stood over him as he died and I thought you were going to come for me but you didn’t, you left. So I did what I thought was the right thing and set about getting more…’

  She explains her story, and here in the soft flickering lights in the sultry warm air, drinking a cold beer after eating a hearty meal, it seems perfectly normal. I watch her closely, not only taking in what she says but watching her mouth as she speaks. The way her lips move, the way the end of her nose twitches as she talks, her high cheekbones that show when she smiles, her eyebrows that lift and fall as she expresses herself.

  One thing is clear, she’s brutally honest. Telling us how she marched with an ever increasing horde through the towns and villages, establishing a method of clearing street by street. She explains how most of the hosts are the same as normal. Barely functioning host bodies that have a sole purpose of finding more hosts. Then a few, like April, could speak but had no individual character. She told us that Darren could access them like a hive mind with a collective conscious but that she couldn’t. She could will them to do things, but only basic functions and the more intricate the function the harder it was. She called them communicators, the ones that could speak, she said how she felt that having a hive mind would be too complicated and she didn’t want that. That it appeared that when she needed more to communicate with, so more were able to do so.

  Then there were the exceptions to the rule like her, Reginald and Mildred. Both of which were able to think freely but they held an absolute devotion to her, as she had to Darren.

  Marcy talked openly about the main town on the Isle of Wight and how she took out the fortified and secure High Street. Weirdly, we all smiled and laughed as she explained about poor Robbie. Such is the setting of the scene we are in, that we feel relaxed and comfortable enough to relate to her tale.

  Then she felt a change starting. That she wished they didn’t have to suffer to become part of the new way. She told us about the prison and some sex offenders and how she wanted to punish them, but once they had turned they were free from any past sin and to punish them again would be the same as humans had always done.

  ‘I went back to Reginald and gathered the ones that could speak,’ she sips at her beer, ‘I asked them a series of test question, you know…who lived in a house, who lived in a flat, who had what job…that was so I could be sure they were able to answer fully. Then I asked if any suffered from diseases like Diabetes. One of them said he did, that he had to take Insulin every day but now he didn’t because he was no longer diabetic.’

  ‘What?’ I lean forward and stare at her.

  ‘He said,’ she stares back, ‘he said he was no longer diabetic, he didn’t need insulin…we asked some others and found some had been on medication for things but…and this is the issue…they were all freshly turned, forgive the way I say that.’

  ‘No carry on,’ I prompt her, Nick pushes his plate away with a belch and apologies before pulling his smokes out and handing them around.

  ‘Er…mind if we smoke?’ I ask Marcy.

  ‘We’re zombies…do you think we mind?’ She jokes. The lads all grin at her, clearly entranced.

  ‘Anyway, they were freshly turned so we couldn’t be sure if they were just masking whatever symptoms they may have had…but it seems clear to me, that the infection…the disease or virus or whatever this is, that it can heal us quicker, normal things that hurt you don’t bother us so much, we can take more punishment and mend easier, they don’t feel pain or suffering…’

  ‘They?’ I cut in.

  ‘I do, so does Reginald but not Mildred, this is why we came here. The infection has…I don’t know…like retracted to the very least it can be with me and Reggie, like it’s testing me, or letting me see how far I can get with my own intelligence…’

  ‘So you deal with that how? By not turning anymore people and coming here to hand yourself over for testing.’

  ‘Well yes,’ she nods, ‘after that we didn’t turn anyone else…ah, no we did with Mildred and her group but that was different.’

  ‘Different how?’ I ask.

  ‘Just different,’ Marcy stares back at me.

  ‘Different how?’ I ask again, unwilling to let the point go.

  ‘The people that took your fort got into their group. They gang raped the women and killed some too, we got there just after…a boy was hurt and dying, the same as Lani…so with their consent we turned him, he came back and then they pretty much stepped forward and asked to be taken.’

  ‘Okay, go on,’ I glance down with a sudden feeling of guilt about Lani.

  ‘Howie, all of this…’ she waves her hand around her, ‘we did this without fuss, without bother…we moved thousands of people onto a ferry within minutes, then we took them off and put them onto lifeboats…no fuss…no de
lays…we got them here with ease. Yes, they are infected and terrible and all the things you say they are, but,’ she lowers her head to looks straight at me, ‘if there is any remote chance that this infection can cure diseases…I don’t know, AIDS, HIV…Cancer…Then surely it is a good thing. If the infection can be harnessed so the good parts are used, the lack of violence and aggression, the ability to work together without greed or jealousy… imagine what could be achieved.’

  ‘So everyone would become infected and lead this perfect life then? What about when you die Marcy? What happens when your will is no longer controlling them.’

  ‘No, you’re missing my point,’ she leans in, ‘not infect you…vaccinate you from the worst parts of the disease while curing you from everything else…not human, not us…something else…look I don’t know the answers, I came here to find you to help me look for the answers…if you had doctors I would now be strapped to a bed with April being tested…’

  ‘Whoa,’ Cookey grins, ‘oh…sorry…nice thought though.’

  Marcy grins at him and leans back, ‘Howie, I just know that if humans had been left alone we’d have wiped ourselves out…constant war and famine, greed, poverty…this has happened, I didn’t cause it and neither did you, it was thrust on us…so we’ve just got to deal with it.’

  I light another smoke and lean back, thinking of everything she said.

  ‘So,’ Clarence leans in, ‘you’re saying that you think this…infection can cure diabetes and cancer…and you want to find a way of isolating the good parts of it and not the bad…so that mankind can live happily ever after?’

  ‘Essentially, yes…don’t scoff,’ she laughs, ‘if I had said to any of you two weeks ago that any of this would happen would you have believed me?’

  ‘Fair point,’ I concede.

  ‘I have proven that we are capable of making something good come of this…before it’s too late.’

  ‘By making everyone be like you?’

  ‘No Howie, by making them halfway between the both of us, all the good of humanity without the bad. No suffering, no pain…no disease…no greed or war…everyone working together for the good of everyone else.’

  ‘Communism then,’ Clarence remarks.

  ‘No because Communism is flawed,’ Reginald cuts in, ‘the idea of communism is perfect, but the second you put a human being in charge of others you have corruption and greed with the masses being oppressed and ruled by fear.’

  ‘And your way is different how?’ Clarence replies.

  ‘Now, at this time,’ Marcy replies, ‘yes, I rule all of these with my will. If I withdrew that they would be coming at you like all the others have been…but what I’m saying is that…’

  ‘I get it,’ Clarence lists a hand, ‘I understand what you’re saying…take the good from it but not the bad…’

  ‘Yes,’ she nods.

  ‘How?’ I ask her.

  ‘We did this…cleaned the fort and all of these things to show you what we are capable of, I wanted you to see this…’

  ‘Why? And how do we do what you’re planning?’

  ‘Why, because we needed you to understand and listen… and forgive me but there’s enough of the woman left in me to know that a clean house, a good meal and a cold beer does wonders to get a bloke listening…’ she grins mischievously. We all laugh at the way she says it.

  ‘We need you to find a way, find doctors…bring them here…do what it takes,’ she adds in earnest. I stare across at her. The red eyes don’t seem so bad now, the more I look at them the more normal they seem. Maybe it’s the light and beer.

  ‘I see,’ I reply after a while.

  ‘If you want us to leave we will,’ Marcy sighs, ‘this is your fort and you probably think we don’t belong here…say the word and we’ll go, but this will just keep on going and every day we both lose so many people…life after life being wasted and killed when there might be another way…if nothing else,’ she leans forwards and stares at me with intensity, ‘if nothing else…then do it to find a vaccine for all the survivors, do it to find a cure for us…whatever your motives are…with us and you have the dog.’

  ‘Meredith!’ Nick exclaims, ‘where is she? She hasn’t eaten anything yet.’

  ‘She’s sat under the table by my feet,’ Dave says.

  ‘Can she eat curry?’ Cookey asks

  ‘Don’t give her curry, her farts are bad enough already, I groan.

  ‘There’s dog food in the stores,’ April says as she heads off.

  ‘I’ll help you,’ Cookey calls out quickly getting up from the table.

  ‘Me too,’ Nick is already on his feet walking after the girl with Blowers right behind him.

  ‘Piss off I said I would help,’ Cookey hisses at the other two. They walk off, bickering into the darkness.

  ‘I think they rather like April,’ Marcy muses with a slight grin.

  ‘Which should be very strongly discouraged,’ Reginald says seriously, ‘Mr Howie you should speak with your men…’

  ‘They know what they’re doing,’ I cut him off, ‘they’ve been through hell so letting them piss about flirting with a pretty girl won’t hurt.’

  ‘She’s not a girl,’ Reginald replies, ‘she is a living challenged person and it is not appropriate.’

  ‘April is a beautiful young woman,’ Clarence says, ‘and it’ll do them good to have something other than killing to think about.’

  Marcy and I look at each other, eyes locked.

  ‘Yes but she is not the same as they are,’ Reginald counters.

  ‘Will April hurt them? Will she try and bite or go for them?’ Clarence asks. Marcy and I watch each other across the table.

  ‘No,’ Reginald blanches, ‘not in any capacity, April appears to be developing her own character and greater individuality which is another reason why we need your help as it appears the individual host has the ability to evolve even when infected.’

  ‘So what’s the harm?’ Clarence asks, ‘they’re young lads that should be mixing with people of their own age and having fun…as long as April doesn't mind the attention then I don’t see a problem.’

  ‘Quite the opposite, I think April is enjoying the attention,’ Reginald replies, ‘but be that as it may they need to understand she is not the same as them.’

  Marcy takes a slow sip from the bottle, her eyes lingering on me. I watch closely, captivated by her.

  ‘Look Reggie,’ Clarence leans forward stretching a huge meaty forearm on the table as he takes a big pull from his bottle, ‘they’re not gonna try and kiss her or…or anything else.’

  ‘I should hope not!’ Reginald says haughtily, ‘that is something that cannot happen unless they want to be turned, any exchange of bodily fluids will cause the infection to be passed.’

  A subtle change as a look of sadness comes into her eyes.

  ‘We have many beautiful girls here,’ Reginald continues, ‘and granted yes they are quite stunning in appearance with full figures, long legs, flawless skin…very beautiful, very beautiful indeed…er…where was I, oh yes…but the danger is that your men will see them as human when they are not.’

  ‘They won’t,’ Clarence takes another long drink, empties the bottle and reaches for another, ‘they’re good lads…very good lads,’ he points at Reginald.

  Reginald drinks from a bottle. The contrast of the tidy small man drinking a bottle of beer doesn't quite fit but he sips away as he and Clarence descend into discussion.

  ‘I am sure they are good lads, they certainly seem very loyal and you must be very proud of them…’

  ‘Proud isn’t the word,’ Clarence cuts in with just a hint of slur in his speech, ‘they’re the best…the best…in fact…you should get all those beautiful girls up here so the lads can let their hair down.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Reginald shakes his head, ‘oh no no no…young people full of alcohol and soft flickering lights…recipe for…er…recipe for…gosh I can’t find the words I need…bad thing
s…’

  ‘Here,’ Clarence takes another beer and passes one down to Reginald, ‘ah they won’t do anything…’ he smiles, ‘just give ‘em a nice night for a change.’

  ‘Won’t do anything,’ Reginald slurs as he drinks from the new bottle, ‘I think not! Have you seen the girls? They’re beautiful…stunning…gorgeous…splendid! Just…just…wonderful creatures!’ His voice rises as he goes along.

  ‘Well where are they then?’ Clarence looks around, ‘they should be here having a drink and relaxing.’

  ‘My thoughts exactly,’ Reginald announces, ‘we should find them and bring them,’ he hiccups, ‘bring them here.’

  ‘Yes!’ Clarence’s voice booms out, ‘we need to find these girls and give them some of our beer.’

  ‘What girls?’ Nick asks as they walk back, he puts a huge bowl of dog food down on the floor and quickly steps back as Meredith dives in.

  ‘Reggie knows some gorgeous girls that want to come and drink with us,’ Clarence exclaims with a huge grin.

  ‘Really?’ Blowers asks, ‘seriously?’

  ‘Yep cos I was telling him how proud of you I am…me and Dave and Mr Howie are very proud of you so drink your beers and relax,’ Clarence stands up and grabs another bottle, forcing it at Blowers as he wraps a long heavy arm round his shoulders. Blowers grins and takes a long drink.

  ‘But!’ Reginald shouts in triumph as he stands up, he walks closer to the lads, clinking his bottle against theirs, ‘but…you cannot kiss my beautiful girls…for even though they are quite simply delightful it would be the kiss of death and be a very bad thing,’ he shakes his head sadly, ‘it’s very sad.’

  ‘My lads won’t kiss ‘em will you boys?’ Clarence roars. They shake their heads grinning at the drunken giant.

  ‘And if you do…put a condom on your tongue…ha!’

  ‘No no no…’ Reginald shakes his head, ‘condoms go on the penis not on the tongue…I read about it.’

  ‘April!’ Clarence grins, ‘here…have a beer but don’t go kissing my boys…’he thrusts a bottle at the smiling girl.