Ghostland_A Zombie apocalypse Novel

by Shaun Whittington

  “Where’re you going, daddy?” Imelda’s eyes followed her daddy’s frame as he walked to the other side of the house.

  “Stay there.”

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Dicko,” Simon announced. “He’s back.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dicko had told Simon that he had seen the car on the drive and broken into an abandoned house. He’d only been away for an hour or so, but both men agreed to start their venture the next day. Fortunately, the owners had left the car keys in one of the kitchen cupboards.

  Simon had asked Dicko if he wanted to stay the night for the second time and this time he agreed. Dicko told Simon that he’d sleep on the couch; he also joked that he wouldn’t be offended if Simon barricaded his bedroom before he and Imelda went to sleep.

  Simon and Imelda had turned in over an hour ago and Dicko had helped himself to some water from the kitchen. He sat in the armchair and closed his eyes. Tiredness was beginning to creep up on him once more. A small sound from outside made him open his eyes wide, like plates, but nothing else was heard afterwards. He began to relax again and had a look around the dusky living room area.

  Dicko released a yawn, stretched his arms, and began to groan. He scratched the chin area of his beard and then placed his hands on his lap, closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep once again. He could hear a thudding noise coming from upstairs and wondered what it was. Had Simon got up to go to the toilet? Had Imelda fallen out of bed?

  Gentle thuds could be heard above him, and those thuds seemed to be moving. Dicko opened his eyes once more, and puffed out an annoyed breath as the footsteps began to make their way downstairs, down to the first floor of the farmhouse. The footsteps had reached the bottom of the stairs and had stopped. Dicko stared at the door and when it finally opened, Imelda walked through into the dusky room.

  “Hello, there,” he greeted the young girl. As soon as he clocked the little girl, any frustration that he had had evaporated.

  She smiled and said, “Hello, Mr Dicko.”

  Dicko laughed, “Just Dicko will do.”

  Imelda was wearing a dressing gown that was far too big for her, and Dicko guessed correctly that it was something that the previous owners of the house had left behind.

  “It’s a bit cold tonight, isn’t it?” he said.

  She nodded.

  “What’s up, honey? Can’t you sleep?”

  “Not really. Daddy’s snoring doesn’t help.”

  Dicko tried to joke, “You should give him a nudge; tell him to turn over.”

  “I didn’t want to disturb him. He never slept very well last night.”

  “That’s very sweet of you.” Dicko smiled and her concern for her daddy warmed his heart.

  Imelda began to scan around the dim room and was thinking of something else to say.

  She didn’t feel uncomfortable with the silence. She knew that Dicko was a good guy, and if her daddy trusted him ... that was good enough for her.

  Dicko cleared his throat. “You better get yourself back to bed. If your daddy wakes up and you’re not there...”

  “He won’t,” she said with confidence. “Mr Dicko?”

  “Please, just call me Dicko.”

  “If you had one wish … what would it be?”

  “That’s easy,” Dicko snickered. “I would wish for things to go back to normal.”

  “It has to be something more realistic, otherwise the wish won’t work. You can’t wish for the old world or loved ones to still be alive.”

  “Wow.” The man blew out his lips and puffed out a breath. “That makes it more difficult. I don’t know.” Dicko shrugged his shoulders. “A water-well in the back of the farm would be good. Am I allowed that?”

  “Yes.” Imelda nodded.

  “What about you?” Dicko stroked his dark beard and smirked.

  “What about me?”

  “What would you wish for?”

  Imelda went quiet and lowered her head, staring at her lap. Dicko wasn’t sure if she was doing this because she was upset or because she was thinking of an answer.

  “Imelda?” Dicko pushed.

  She looked down and he felt the sadness in the room.

  He persisted, “What would you wish for?”

  “I don’t know.” She hunched her shoulders. “I suppose...”

  “Yes?”

  “What I’d really like ... is to see my daddy happy again.”

  Her voice began to quiver and her statement made Dicko’s throat swell. Poor little thing, he thought. Living in a world like this.

  “I’m certain that you make him happy,” Dicko said.

  “I’m not sure.” Imelda tucked her blonde hair behind her ears and added, “He used to be happy, when mum and Tyler were alive, but now...”

  “The situation we’re in is horrendous, Imelda,” Dicko began. “Your dad isn’t happy because he’s worried. He’s worried about you, this situation we’re in ... everything.”

  “We were staying at a house a few weeks ago,” Imelda began, “and I got up during the night and realised daddy wasn’t in the bed; he was downstairs. I left the room and sat on top of the stairs. I was thinking about going down, but I changed my mind.”

  “Why?” Dicko narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “Were you scared?”

  Imelda shook her head. “No.”

  “Well, what was it then?”

  “I think my dad needed some time alone.”

  “Oh?”

  lmelda licked her lips and seemed reluctant to tell Dicko the next sentence, as if it was a secret. Imelda’s big blue eyes began to fill and Dicko thinned his lips as his heart began to break for the child.

  Dicko said softly, “You can tell me, Imelda. You can tell me anything.”

  “I didn’t go down because daddy was crying, really loudly. At first I thought there was a wolf downstairs. It sounded like howling. But I stayed on the top of the stairs and realised that it was daddy. I think he was crying for mummy and Tyler.”

  Dicko gulped, trying to remove the swelling from his throat, and asked her, “What happened to your mum and brother, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Erm...”

  Both of them looked above when they heard quick footsteps across the ceiling. The panic-filled footsteps ran downstairs and a couple of seconds later Simon burst through the living room.

  “Jesus!” Simon exclaimed and placed his hand on his chest, now relieved that he could see his little girl.

  “She was just keeping me company.” Dicko smiled.

  Simon kept his hand on his chest and panted, “I nearly had a bloody heart attack when I woke up to find you weren’t there.”

  “I’m sorry, daddy,” Imelda whined. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  Simon held out his hand and urged his daughter to take it. “Come on back upstairs. Give it another try and leave poor Dicko alone.”

  “That’s okay,” Dicko laughed. “She was no bother.”

  Imelda walked past her dad, not taking his hand, and said, “Goodnight, Mr Dicko,” before making her way back to the first floor.

  “I’m sorry,” Simon apologised to his guest. “Did she wake you up?”

  “No,” Dicko snickered.

  “Good night.” Simon grabbed the handle of the living room door and was about to shut it behind him and go upstairs, but Dicko had called after him and temporarily stopped Simon from progressing to the first floor.

  “What is it?” Simon asked him.

  “Your daughter is a little angel, and...”

  “And?”

  Dicko sighed, “I’m sorry you lost your wife and son.”

  Simon looked at him strangely. He wasn’t sure if he had already told him what had happened to Diana and Tyler. He thought that he did, but revealed very little detail. Maybe Imelda had said something more. She had always been terrible at keeping secrets. Diana used to say that Imelda couldn’t even hold her water.

  Simon gulped and nodded at Dicko, tha
nking him for his words, and said, “Me too.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Next Day

  It had been a restless night’s sleep for all three individuals of the farm, but neither one complained when they woke up.

  Imelda was the last to wake up, which didn’t surprise her father. She usually was, even back in the old days. During the week, when the kids had to attend school, Simon would be the first to wake up. He would get up about seven, sneak down the stairs and make himself a coffee. He would then make up Tyler and Imelda’s lunch for school, which would contain a sandwich, a packet of crisps and some fruit. He’d also make sure they took a fresh bottle of water with them and mid-morning snacks that would include an apple or tangerine and a croissant or a small packet of cookies.

  After making their lunches, he would top up his coffee with more hot water and then sit down and watch the news up until half past seven. It was many minutes of peace he savoured every morning, and by half past seven he would go upstairs and wake everybody up. Even with her dad shaking her and her curtain open, Imelda would struggle to get out of bed every morning.

  All three members of the farmhouse were dressed, and the last tin of beans had been shared by father and daughter. Simon had offered some to Dicko, but he claimed that he was okay and didn’t like eating breakfast when the world was a normal place, let alone now. Simon guessed that Dicko was lying and was just being nice, but he never pushed the man.

  “Right, guys.” Dicko clapped his hands together. “The car’s outside, so are we ready?”

  Both Simon and Imelda nodded. Simon was wearing his usual black boots, black combats and T-shirt. Of course, food and water were the main reasons why they were heading to the supermarket after the homestore, but he was hoping there’d be something left in the clothes section.

  Dicko ran his fingers through his bushy beard and said, “Okay, good. Now, there’s only half a tank in the car, but it’ll be more than enough to get us to where we’re going. If it’s clear when we get there, inside the place and outside, then I’m gonna make a second trip on my own. We’ll empty the car when we come back, and I’ll go back out straightaway.”

  Simon was about to open his mouth and say something, but Dicko held up his finger to stop the man. “If the journey is hazardless, then I should be fine on my own. The Mazda is a small car, so I’ll need the extra room for the second journey. Besides, we don’t want to be leaving that house empty and unlocked for a long period of time, do we?”

  Simon thought for a few seconds and then nodded in agreement. Then Dicko went outside and father and daughter followed him.

  “Let’s go,” Dicko said with a smile, and pointed over to the vehicle.

  “I’ll sit in the back with Imelda,” Simon said.

  “Sure thing.”

  “And we’re definitely doing the homestore first?”

  “I think it’d be best to get it out of the way.” Dicko nodded, then asked Simon, “Are you okay with that?”

  Simon nodded.

  Dicko fired up the engine and pulled away. Imelda began to put her belt on and her daddy asked if she was okay.

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  “It should be okay,” said Simon. “And if it’s not we’ll come straight back. We can try the next day.”

  Overhearing Simon’s talk with his daughter, Dicko looked at the pair of them through the rear view mirror and said to the little girl, “I reckon the places where we’re going should be quiet. I think most people have either fled the area or...”

  “What about the bandits, daddy?” she asked. “Will there be any?”

  “I’ve no idea, babe. Hopefully not.”

  Dicko took a left at a junction and began to enter a place that used to be a residential area. Simon recognised where he was now. So did Imelda. Houses were to either side of them, the road was barren and there was no sign of life.

  Simon shook his head and asked nobody in particular, “Where did all the survivors go?”

  He received no answer.

  They entered a town called Darnley and was greeted with bodies strewn across the roads, seven in all, with three abandoned cars, one burnt out. Simon was going to tell Imelda to keep her eyes shut until they arrived at the homestore, but this was the world she was living in now, and she was going to have to get used to it.

  It was hard to tell if the dead were victims of bandits. He guessed that they were. If the Canavars had got a hold of them, there’d be nothing left of them.

  Dicko made a right and went straight ahead at the roundabout, which told Simon that he had been here before. He seemed to know where he was going. He made a left, and then a left again, into the almost empty car park.

  “There’re a few cars here,” Simon remarked. He counted seven. It wasn’t many, but where were the owners? Had these cars been abandoned? If so, was it during the Stage One period?

  Dicko pulled up the vehicle by the main doors and all could see that the doors were open.

  “Have you done this kind of thing before?” Simon asked the driver.

  “I’ve taken cars before and visited supermarkets in the past. I’ve never bumped into much danger.”

  “Much?”

  “I had one recent incident,” Dicko looked sheepishly at Simon, hesitant to say anything in front of Imelda.

  Simon said, “It’s okay. Just ... not too much detail.”

  Dicko nodded and began, “Most places I’ve visited, mainly in the Paisley area, were reasonably clear, more or less.”

  “Reasonably? More or less? You’re a bit vague, Dicko.”

  The driver smiled. “Anyway, I went into a place in Elderslie and came across a few undesirables.”

  “Were they bad men?” Imelda asked the man.

  “Well ... in a way.” Dicko was unsure how to answer the young girl. “Some of these people are desperate, mentally unstable. A lot of people have seen some terrible things, especially when the monsters were here, the Canavars. I suppose Stage Two, as you guys call it, only affected major cities and some towns in an attempt to kill off the Canavars.”

  “That’s enough,” Simon intervened.

  “Anyway, back to this supermarket I visited.” Dicko rubbed his face before adding, “I took a few tins from a shelf and could hear people arriving. They were on motorbikes. I think there was about six of them, but they were definitely people you wanted to avoid.”

  “How did you know?” Imelda asked him.

  “I dunno.” Dicko shrugged his shoulders. “You just ... do. Anyway, these guys came in and I hid. Eventually I was spotted by some of them and they chased me. I dropped the car keys while I was running, but I knew they’d catch me up if I ran back for them.”

  “What happened?”

  “I headed for the countryside and have been on foot ever since.”

  “So cars can be a nuisance,” Imelda said. “Is that what you’re saying, Mr Dicko?”

  “Just call him Dicko,” Simon groaned.

  “To be honest, cars nowadays are great for what we’re doing today, but it’s risky. If survivors are desperate and they hear a vehicle coming their way, they could hide or may even attack you for the wheels. I think getting here is the most dangerous part.”

  “So what do we now?” she asked.

  Dicko switched off the engine and put the keys in his pocket. “It’s time to go shopping.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  All three entered the building with Dicko leading the way. He told them that they should take only a few garden utensils, like shovels and forks, and concentrate on packets of seeds and even gas canisters, if there were any. If there were supplies aplenty, another journey could be made in the future. Dicko assumed that all the canisters had probably been taken, but hoped there were some left. Most of the room in the car was going to be used for the supermarket trip.

  From what they could see, the establishment was empty, tidy, and although some shelving had been emptied, there seemed to be supplies left. Dicko could see a
n abandoned trolley by one of the checkouts. He went over and grabbed the trolley and left it by Simon’s side.

  “Wait there,” Dicko instructed father and daughter.

  “Why?” Simon held out his arms and shrugged his shoulders.

  “I’m going to check down all twenty aisles before we start. I don’t want any nasty surprises coming round the corner when we’re filling up the trolley.”

  Simon and his daughter waited around nervously as their new friend started to check down the aisles. Once he returned, he announced that it was clear, grabbed the trolley, and told Simon and Imelda to follow him.

  They travelled nearly twenty yards and turned into Aisle 6. The aisle looked untouched and this forced a smile from Simon and Dicko.

  “There we go,” Dicko announced a little too loudly, his voice eerily echoing in the empty place. “Garden utensils and seeds in the same aisle. We should be in here for no longer than ten minutes.”

  Simon parked the trolley up halfway down the aisle, and told Simon that they were only going to take a few utensils, but every packet of seeds that was available. They could see the packets and there was a lot on offer. Carrot, broccoli, beetroot, potato ... they were all there.

  “Once we get back to the farm,” said Dicko, “we can make a start on an allotment. Don’t forget the green fly spray.”

  The whole process had taken no more than eight minutes, and now the three of them were leaving the homestore with a trolley full of goodies.

  They had emptied the supplies into the boot of the car and now it was time for the short trip to Silverburn, where a Tesco supermarket was also based right next to it.

  A five-minute journey along the desolate road was achieved with no incidents, and once Dicko turned right at the roundabout, they were in Tesco’s empty car park.

  They could see to their right the huge shopping mall that was Silverburn, but that could be tried another day. Maybe at a later date. Silverburn hosted many restaurants, clothes shops and a cinema, but food was their primary target. Food would probably be available in some of the restaurants’ kitchens, but the supermarket was first and they only had a small car.