by Al K. Line
Paul's dad was almost comatose, the feeding obviously stopped any sort of impulse to attack and eat again. Once fully satiated it seemed like they just didn't care about anything at all. It occurred to Ven that this must be what a heroin addict was like after the needle went in, the plunger pushed. A high that blocked out any other needs or impulses. Dealing with him was straightforward in regards to his putting up no resistance. But with the best means of causing permanent death still the sword from the bedroom wall at her home it was not as simple a matter as she thought it would be.
Steeling herself, trying not to look at the disgusting scene, or the absolutely horrific look of cannibalistic contentment on the face of Kyle's father (what was his name?) she swung the sword back in a high arc, putting all her force behind it, as she aimed at the side of his neck. Intending to sever his head with one mighty sweep, ending the horror at least for now.
The reality was a different matter entirely. It went in about three inches and stuck.
"Oh, c'mon, really?" Ven whispered to herself, trying to ensure Kyle didn't hear.
"This isn't how it happens in the movies, those liars." She pulled on the sword, trying to dislodge it for a second swing. The blade was held fast, and all pulling it did was topple the near comatose zombie over sideways, falling face down into the glistening hole that was Kyle's mothers stomach cavity.
"I really can't handle this, this is so totally disgusting."
Pulling again the sword finally came free. She remembered with a vivid flashback just what she had done to her husband, stabbing through the eye and into the brain. She wept silently and slowly at the thought, the events of the last day finally beginning to hit home and actually become something she herself had been involved in, rather than some kind of movie scene. Bracing herself she placed the top of the sword directly over the zombie's eye and pushed down with all her might.
There was a squelch then a crunch. It was over.
The clean-up then involved dragging both bodies into the downstairs office and slamming the door shut. She found what she wanted in the laundry room and used bedsheets to shove the majority of the gore and pieces of Kyle's mother in behind them.
Gathering any food she could find she piled it in the living room, checked Tomas was still alright, and slammed the door to the kitchen firmly shut. They never entered that room again.
Kyle really didn't have much in the way of possessions, he was a bit of a minimalist in that respect. When he came downstairs with a green army duffel stuffed and bulging and sat on the sofa declaring, "That's me done then," Ven didn't understand what he meant.
"Huh? What, for undies?"
"Um, no. This is my stuff."
"What about the rest of it?" Ven inquired suspiciously. She really didn't trust this situation at all and was having a very hard time understanding what Kyle actually meant.
"Have you got your clothes?"
"Yup, sorted."
"What about shoes?" she inquired.
Kyle stared down at his feet and nodded in the direction of his worn Converse.
"Oh, aha ha," said Ven nervously. "No, I mean all your other ones: boots, shoes, wellies, you know all your other pairs."
"This is it Ven, I don't buy shit like you do, what's the point?"
Ven really could not compute what she was being told.
Everyone had different footwear for different weather and situations didn't they?
She thought back over the many months she had known Kyle, and tried to think about what he had worn in all that time. Clothes had changed, and she was sure footwear had changed too.
There had been a pair of DCs hadn't there?
She racked her brain, and a look of horror crossed her face.
"How can you live like that bunny?" She was having great difficulty with this.
"At a minimum you need summer shoes, winter shoes, wellies, sandals, flip-flops, hiking boots, trainers, a pair for best, something comfy for the garden, a pair for walking in the park otherwise you might get wet feet, get hot, have doggie doo on them... oh, I don't know, you just need them, don't you?" She was starting to think about the amount of stuff she had piled into the car, maybe finally realizing that it was a little much and that her and Kyle really were very different.
Kyle just shrugged. "I just buy a new pair when they get a bit worn or messed up. Simples innit." He gave a shy smile, and looked at Ven inquiringly.
"You okay? You look a bit pale?"
Ven was just somewhat confused. Realizing how different her and Kyle were it made her very disconcerted — and she really did wonder how their friendship had worked out so well. How could he only have one pair of shoes? It just wasn't possible.
"Um, anyway," Kyle interjected, seeing Ven was having a really hard time with the current footwear situation. "I've got to get my stuff from the attic yet." Hoping that would break the spell.
Ven brightened. "Bet you have lots of goodies up there eh? That's where you keep all your things then is it? I knew you couldn't have just one bag." She actually looked relieved, like her world wasn't being torn apart.
Kyle was more concerned about the zombie apocalypse, but it seemed that for now Ven was just trying to reassure herself about her own sanity, not really yet coming to grips with the fact that she was a bit of a special case if we are honest about it.
A putrid smell broke the spell. Kyle's eyes widened, fear written all across his face.
"I thought you dealt with Dad?" he said, panicking and starting up from the sofa.
"Relax Kyle, it's just the little stinker sat next to us," Ven said, pointing at little Tomas and smiling whilst holding her nose.
"Pooee. Has little Tomas done a business? Has he, has he?"
Tomas gurgled and smiled back, happy to have found a smile in what had seemed like a lifetime of confusion for his little unformed brain.
"Okey dokey, I will deal with Senor Stinky here while you get your stuff from the attic. Deal?"
"You betcha," agreed Kyle, relieved he wasn't going to have his brains eaten, but still happy to escape the smell spreading through the air with serious intent to do harm. It even beat out the smell of Pledge polish, which was saying something.
Half an hour later he was back, a few serious looking bits of gear gathered up in his scrawny arms.
"Take a look, this is going to be better than the crap we have now. At least, until we find something more suitable," he said, looking pretty pleased with his hoard.
Kyle had brought down some of the better mementos and collectibles his dad stored in the attic as he didn't want to sell them. They were stashed up there, out of the way, mainly to placate his wife, who couldn't be doing with all those dangerous things lying around making the place untidy, not to mention a death-trap.
Kyle's dad loved antique weaponry, and delighted that it was how he made a living. The sharpest, most dangerous looking, and kick ass cool stuff he kept in the attic. It gave him an excuse to have a bit of a Man Lair.
The collection included shuriken, nunchucks, a 'real' sword, knives of all description and even a crossbow thrown in for luck. There was also a mace, a weapon much like a wooden baseball bat or club, but heavier and with numerous steel flanges on the weighted head. Kyle thought it absolutely rocked.
"Cool, that should do us nicely," enthused Ven, eyes sparkling looking over the items approvingly. Kyle's dad definitely had good taste, it seemed that everything was not only very pointy but of the best possible quality and workmanship, the real deal in other words, not like the sword she had been stuck with up until now.
"So, what's the plan then partner?" asked Ven.
"Um, how about a boat? It would be safe and we could lie low for a while, maybe try to find out what is happening on the way and let us get some sort of proper plan in place," said Kyle optimistically.
"Hmm, interesting. I was thinking about something else, but let's hear it."
"Well, we could go down to Upton Bassett and get a canal boat and just go around the
canals for a bit and..."
"Kyle darling, do you now how slow those are? Are you serious?"
Kyle looked a little sheepish. "Just an idea, I've always wanted to go on a canal boat is all. I thought we would at least be off the streets."
"And the canal locks, do you know how to open and close them, steer and the like? I mean, you can't even drive!" Ven was starting to lose it.
"Yeah, okay, okay, just an idea."
"Hmm," repeated Ven. "Right, look Kyle, I have to tell you something. I, um, I have a sister. A slightly bonkers sister, but I do have one. And I think that maybe we should go stay with her... just for a while. Just until we can find out what is going to happen and to get away from all this madness."
"You never said, I didn't even know you had one," said Kyle, surprised this was the first he was hearing about it.
"We don't really talk, well we can't talk. And this is why it is probably a great place to go. And, well, she is family. My only real family apart from you guys," she said, looking at Kyle, Bos Bos and Tomas in turn.
"The fact is she is kind of wacky, she doesn't 'do' technology, and we would be well away from any crowds or anything that could be infected. Plus, I feel I owe her at least this much, to warn her in case she hasn't found out what is going on out there yet. Which I doubt she has."
"Sounds like a plan, fill me in then, what's the deal?"
Ven went on to explain all about her younger sister.
No Phone?
Ven and her sister lost their parents at an early age. Ven was eighteen and Cassie was sixteen. Ven had already moved out, being able to afford to look after herself via her underground activities, and actively wanting her independence too. Their parents' death had a very deep effect on both of them, they each found it very hard to cope and move on with their lives at first. Although not the closest of sisters they had both loved their parents dearly, Ven being especially close to her father, whom she adored. He understood her and her quirks, never trying to make her do things she didn't want to, or conform to the standards others would see her follow without questioning.
He was probably the one she inherited a lot of her personality from. He was also an incredibly intelligent man, always reading, forever fiddling about with various devices in the garage while the girls were growing up. The difference between her parents and Ven was that they loved to travel, Ven hated it. It was whilst away on a trip to Burma that they got caught up in some form of trouble, nobody ever got to the truth of it really, and they were eventually found shot dead on a quiet beach fairly near to a popular holiday destination, a few days after they initially went missing. Robbery was the obvious conclusion the local police force came to, and that was the last they heard of the investigation. It was one of those holidays where people were recommended to stay within the confines of the hotel grounds, but the parents were never ones to listen to authority, much like the two sisters.
The sisters had never been the closest, Cassie being 'full of hippie shit' as Ven would have put it, and Ven, well... Ven was Ven. Uptight, always had to have the best of everything, and certainly not one to actively go out of her way to make herself look messy. She couldn't for the life of her understand why anyone would want to look like they were dirty, it didn't make sense.
After their parents passed Ven had returned home for a short period to look after her sister, but it soon became apparent to both of them that they would not be able to live together without their parents being a middle ground to ease the sisterly conflict always about to boil over. Each tried their best to make it work, but there was no doubt that their personalities were really not suited to living under the same roof without some form of intervention from other people.
The loss of their parents did help them bond a little, but it also meant a heightened sense of emotion and it often tipped over into serious arguments.
It wasn't long before they went their separate ways, Ven dealing with the sale of the house and other matters Cassie was just not up to performing herself. They both received equal shares of the property. It was enough for Ven to upgrade to a nicer place without seeming so suspicious — a way for her to spend some of her ill gotten gains. Cassie mostly squandered hers within a few years, budgeting and caring about money never being one of her strong points.
They stayed in contact for a while, sporadically, but for the last few years Ven had only spoken to her sister on a handful of occasions.
She had moved to Mid Wales to a 'community of like minded people', as she put it, and was currently (or at least was the last time Ven heard) residing off-grid in a small community of people living in yurts. Originally a traditional home for the nomads of central Asia, yurts were becoming popular amongst British alternative lifestyle types and glampers.
Ven couldn't think of anything worse, not up until very recently anyway. Now going somewhere remote, making sure her sister was safe, and maybe getting away from the zombie apocalypse didn't seem like such a bad idea after all.
"Okay, let me get this straight, they don't have a phone?" said Kyle, totally bewildered.
"Nope."
"Or Internet?" he asked hopefully, forgetting that accessing it would be a very bad idea.
"Nah."
"Or watch the telly?"
"No Kyle, nothing like that. They are off-grid."
"Not even Game of Thrones? Everyone watches that," said Kyle with total conviction.
They did, didn't they?
Ven sighed. "No, nothing, they look at birds and knit hats, hug trees, make sandals out of yogurt, that kind of thing."
Kyle was way out of his depth on this one. He couldn't imagine a day without the Internet. Well, until now, so he guessed it was possible.
"They poo outside in a shed and chuck sawdust on it. They have a well for God's sake. They have a few solar panels and run some basic power tools and the like for their communal living," shuddered Ven. "And that's about it."
"Poo in a shed? Outside? Sawdust? Shut up Ven, you dick, no-one does that," Kyle said, figuring he was having his leg pulled.
"They do, and apparently they love it."
Ven had heard through the grapevine all about the yurt commune in Mid Wales and just how it was set up. It was not the easiest place to get to, they all lived pretty much self sufficiently and had abandoned technology to get back to nature. Ven wondered if she had remembered to pack her Le Chameau wellies. She probably had, just in case.
Later that evening, when they had done what needed to be done and were as ready as they would ever be for the long drive the next day, Ven plucked up the courage to ask Kyle a very sensitive question.
"Kyle?"
"Hmm?"
"Why didn't you come home yesterday? Why leave it until today?" she hated asking but had to know.
"Because I knew, and I knew I couldn't leave you and Tomas... and Bos Bos," he said, patting the dog on the head affectionately.
"How did you know? Didn't you want to make sure?"
Tears welled up in his eyes, the recollection of the events of the day pushing forward from where he was trying to keep them down, and away from the ache it produced in his heart. "Because they spend their lives glued to the computers. We only just escaped ourselves, and by pure luck. I knew that they were goners and I couldn't leave you guys, just in case," he shrugged. As if the choice of his non-blood related family over his parents was the only logical choice to make.
"Oh, Kyle, we love you very much you know that don't you?" croaked Ven in a very uncharacteristic outpouring of emotion.
"Um, yeah, sure. Me too, me too," Kyle muttered, trying to sound manly rather than like he was about to burst into tears and ask for a hug.
He got one anyway — two in one day! They stayed like that for some time, interrupted only by the sound of Bos Bos licking things only dogs were allowed to lick in public, and Tomas gurgling away contentedly after a lovely evening meal Ven had gone into the next room to give to him alone.
Ven pondered through the night just wh
at Kyle had meant about knowing for sure that there was no hope for his parents, thinking about various incidents through their friendship when she had the uncanny feeling there was slightly more to Kyle than you got on first, second, third or even fifth impression. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but if she had been of a more supernatural bent she would think that he was far from your average person and had a lot of talents that he kept well and truly to himself, even from her.
Still, what mattered was that he had done his best in his own way to protect her, Tomas and Boscoe. He was, without doubt, her family and she was his.
Saturday morning came with a long wait. A mix of fear, anticipation, dread, sadness and alcohol combined to make the previous night one where Ven and Kyle got little sleep. When they did Tomas seemed to find that the perfect time to either want to feed, poo, or play, in no particular order.
When the lazy dawn finally arrived a plan had been formed as best it could be, neither of them yet knowing just what the real situation was or what they could expect on a drive that was long, and definitely to be done without a sat nav. This journey wasn't just a few minutes away like Kyle's house had been from Ven's.
They decided that the main thing was to keep moving no matter what and to not stop more often than they absolutely had to. Movement and a big car were the best way to keep your brains, they both decided. If they had to stop then all precautions were to be taken and it was to be for as short a time as possible.
They made a pact (again) that they were not to stop for anyone, no matter how distressing, and that anyway what with them, Tomas, Bos Bos and their various weapons, food, clothes and other items (still mostly Ven's) there was zero extra room anyway.
So much for plans.
"No Internet," Kyle whispered to himself, shaking his head, "Man, what did they do all day?" He really couldn't believe it, not that he actually wanted to go Online at the moment. Although it might be cool to see just what Twitter looked like now. He was sure there would be seriously weird messages if zombies were running it. Kyle wondered if it would ever be possible to have a safe connection again. From what he understood the answer was probably no. Would there be anyone to use it anyway?