by Jack Lewis
28
The next morning the birds sang as we loaded up the car. Rain pattered down on the hood of my coat and ran in dribbles down my sleeves. I shook my arm and let the drops fall to the floor. Jeremiah opened the boot of my car and heaved both his and my travel cases into it.
“Looks like you’ve learned some manners,” I said. I tried to make the words light-hearted, but even the effort of speaking was enough to drain me.
“Get in the car and buckle up.”
Jeremiah turned around. He waved a hand in the air at Marsha, who stood pale-faced in the pub doorway.
“Thanks for the lovely stay,” he shouted over to her. Then, in a quieter voice, he added “You crazy mare.”
Thoughts of the trip squirmed through my mind like worms. I swiped them away and let them crawl back into the earth. I wasn’t ready to face them yet. I knew what I had seen, and I knew what I felt, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to think about it. It felt like there was no need; that somehow, I had put an end to it.
I got in the car and sunk into the seat. Jeremiah got into the driver’s side. He pulled the seatbelt across him, eyes straining as he fumbled with the buckle.
“What the hell were you doing last night?” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“When I barged in. You were burning the diary.”
I wanted to tell him. I wanted him to know that the things he searched for existed. Maybe he was fully convinced of that already, but I wanted to tell him that I believed in them too. I knew that I couldn’t. Some things would have to remain unspoken, because there were things in this world that nobody should hear.
“It was just the fever,” I said.
Jeremiah huffed. He turned the ignition, and the engine growled.
“Another damn hoax. I swear to god, these people have too much free time on their hands. And they’re gullible. All it takes is one daft sod telling a ghost story, and the rest of them just swallow it up.”
I grunted. To talk more would mean to think, and I wanted a rest from that.
“Do you want me to drop you off at your dorms?” he said.
I thought about it. I imagined nights in my dorm room, my lamp burning and books spread in front of me. My phone staying silent, my notebook filling up. The coldness of the air, the bareness of the walls. There was more to life than this.
“If I give you an address, think you could take me there?”
The wheels of the car moved and Jeremiah guided the car over the cobbled road and away from the pub.
“Sure, where is it?”
“I think I want to go visit some friends,” I said. The word ‘friends’ sounded strange when I said it. It was like a stream springing from a long-dry desert.
“Sounds like a good idea. You could do with a break.”
As the car rolled over the country road I got the sense the sky was opening up around us, as though the further away we got from the village the bigger the world became. Sparrows spiralled above us and sang. Jeremiah drove. I relaxed in the passenger seat and watched the greens of the Scottish country side fly by. I leant forward and reached for the radio dial, but stopped myself and sank back in my seat. The sounds of the world drifted by, and it was time for me to listen.
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What next? You should try my zombie series, Fear the Dead.
Kyle Vauss hikes the ruins of Northern England, a broken man running from his past. He has one more journey to make through the graveyard that was once Britain. Maybe then he can forgive himself for what happened to his wife.
They said the outbreak would only last a few days...fifteen years later the world has gone to hell. The zombie infected roam the streets, and at night the mutated stalkers leave their nests to kill. Nobody knows what they are, or where they're from. But anyone caught outside after dark will find out how dangerous they can be.
Kyle’s got one last trip to make and a promise to his dead wife to fulfil. When a kid called Justin tricks Kyle into taking him along, Kyle has to learn to trust others again. He doesn't want to face his past, but there are some things that you can't turn away from.
Praise for the Fear the Dead series from other readers:
‘Loved this book. It had everything you want to see in a good apocalyptic story. And it’s great to see a British author giving the likes of Mr Kirkman a run for his money. Bring on the next book. Can’t wait.’
‘Excellent baddies and a realistic depiction of a post-apocalyptic future. Fear the Dead has left me wanting more and I'd love to know what happens next. I would read a sequel in a heartbeat!’
‘The author Jack Lewis is the mist of writing what could be one of the classic end of the world zombie tales in years to come, that's if we are not wiped out be a zombie apocalypse.’
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Copyright 2015 by Jack Lewis. All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away without the prior written consent of the author.