Ghostland_A Zombie apocalypse Novel

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Ghostland_A Zombie apocalypse Novel Page 10

by Shaun Whittington


  “We don’t know her. She’s been here for a matter of minutes.”

  “Aw, come on.”

  “For Christ’s sake.” Simon shook his head. “You fancy her. You just want her to stay to see if you can bone her.”

  “That is offensive.” Dicko pointed at Simon and added with a straight face. “How could you think of something like that, in the state this country is in?”

  “So it’s never crossed your mind?”

  “Can’t get it out of my head,” Dicko began to snicker.

  “Imelda does seem to like her,” Simon began to ponder. “And I do think she’s generally a good person.”

  “Is that a yes then?”

  “Okay.” Simon nodded. “But that’s it. Four people is the max.”

  “I think we should take turns on watch, now we have a few numbers,” Dicko suggested, and could see Simon already agreeing to it. “Three people have been to the house in the last few days, including myself, Yoler, and that arsehole that tried to kill you.”

  “I agree.”

  Dicko clapped his hands and rubbed them together, wearing a smile that stretched across his face. “Shall we go down and tell her the good news?”

  “Yes,” Simon sighed in defeat. “I suppose so.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Yoler had been fed and briefly told Simon and Dicko about her story of survival. She was vague about her tale and never mentioned losing family members. It was a simple story of staying at random places, scavenging for food, and hiding from a gang of men that she had come across on a couple of occasions.

  With four individuals present, Simon had decided to go to the pond and collect more water. He trusted Yoler, and asked her if she didn’t mind looking after Imelda.

  “Why don’t I come with you?” she suggested.

  “Erm...” Simon didn’t know what to say.

  “If you run into trouble, you might need some help.”

  Dicko was sitting in the armchair and although secretly he would have rather have gone out with Yoler, he said to Simon, “I’m happy to stay here with Imelda.”

  Simon remained silent, lost in thought.

  “I can handle myself, if need be.” Yoler began to laugh, “How the piss do you think I’ve lasted this long?”

  “Okay,” Simon sighed. “I think there’s another bucket under the sink. What I do is fill the bucket, then we come back here, fill the jars in the kitchen—”

  “Simes,” she said and ruffled her moptop hair. “I have filtered water before, and I ain’t picked up cholera so far.”

  “Okay.” Simon flushed and lowered his head.

  “No matter how much you filter and boil it,” she remarked, “it still tastes like cat’s piss, though, doesn’t it?”

  “It doesn’t taste the best, but you kinda get used to it.”

  Imelda was upstairs, playing with an old cuddly toy that had been found. It was a lamb and she had called it Lambie. Simon went upstairs to tell her he was going out, but she didn’t seem bothered when he told her. She seemed more troubled that he had interrupted her fantasy playtime by announcing that he was going out and trying to keep her hydrated.

  Simon told Imelda he loved her and left the bedroom to go downstairs. He entered the living room and saw Yoler and Dicko chatting. The conversation looked very flirtatious and Simon raised a smile. He went into the kitchen and picked up the yellow bucket that was sitting on the side of the sink; he then went into the cupboard for the other one. He definitely saw two when he first came here.

  He pulled out a red bucket and popped his head into the living room and said, “Sorry to interrupt your chat, but are you coming, Yoler?”

  She laughed, “Sure.” She jumped up to her feet, gave Dicko a playful wave, and followed Simon outside.

  “It should be pretty straightforward,” Simon began to explain, although Imelda and I did run into a bit of trouble—”

  “I know,” she interrupted. “Dicky Boy was just telling me, when you were upstairs with your daughter.”

  Their feet hit the grass and were now heading straight, towards the pond. “Did he tell you everything?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “You’d slashed his face and the guy returned, and then Dicky Boy turned up and killed him.” She said the sentence as if it was nothing.

  “And what do you think about that?” Simon gulped and looked at Yoler.

  She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “Not a lot. Shit happens, Simes.”

  *

  Carrying both empty buckets, Simon strolled across the field, heading to the pond with Yoler by his side. Simon wanted to take the time to get to know the girl better, but she decided to sing Beatle songs all the way there. Halfway through Strawberry Fields Forever, she stopped once they were at the pond.

  She looked around and asked Simon, “Is this the only source of water you have?”

  “What do you mean?” Simon placed the buckets on the floor and wasn’t sure what the young girl meant.

  “Any streams nearby or...?” She nodded towards the woods that were in front of them. “Streams are clearer and the water, once filtered, tastes better, too.”

  “I don’t think so.” Simon hunched his shoulders.

  “You don’t think so?” she smiled and mocked his southern accent. “This pond looks a bit murky, like King Kong has shat in it.”

  “We’ve never gone into the woods. Dicko has been in there, but says there ain’t much where he had been.”

  “But he hasn’t covered every square inch of the woods, has he?”

  “The man that attacked me and Imelda came from the woods.” Simon rubbed his nose before adding, “He came to the farm afterwards. He must have been desperate, so I take it there’s nothing in there that could help somebody survive.”

  “I think we should go in there and check the place out anyway.”

  Her comment made Simon judder with nerves. He shook his head in disagreement.

  “I’m collecting the water,” said Simon, “and then I’m going back to the farm to see my little girl.”

  “You’re piss scared.” Yoler nodded. “I understand.”

  Simon was about to protest that he wasn’t scared, but he’d be lying. Instead, he grabbed one of the buckets and asked Yoler, “Are you gonna help me or not?”

  He walked into the pond a few inches, feeling the water getting into his boots, and dipped the bucket in. Yoler did the same and was standing by his side. Once the buckets were filled, the pair of them made the walk back to the farm. Simon could feel Yoler gazing at him and immediately asked what was wrong.

  “I was wondering...” she said.

  “Wondering?” he snapped. “Wondering what?”

  “I was wondering what it’d be like to sleep with you.”

  Her comment made Simon almost gasp and he took a quick glance at her, making sure she wasn’t joking.

  “Jesus,” he said. “You’re not shy, are you?”

  “No,” she giggled. “Never have been. I always used to say to my friends that life was too short. Now, after what’s happened, that statement has never been so true.”

  “Erm...” Simon smiled, but his lips quivered with nerves as he stared at the young beauty. “My wife...”

  “That’s okay. You just let me know if you change your mind.” Yoler looked him up and down and cackled, “Oh yeah, I could ride you into the ground, no bother.”

  *

  Hours had passed, Yoler and Simon were back at the farm, and a conversation began to take place in the living room.

  Dicko had mentioned that there was an orchard half a mile from the place, and also a visitor centre. Dicko had told Simon that he had been there before, but had to flee the visitor centre because he had ‘company’, but didn’t go into much detail after that.

  Simon and Dicko had agreed to check it out, as Yoler was going to dig and plant the seeds that had been taken from the homestore. She had told the men that she had done it before, and both men agreed to let her get on w
ith it.

  Simon had an early night with Imelda and had informed Yoler that she could stay. Dicko said that he and Yoler would take turns on watch during the night, and Simon thanked the pair of them.

  Imelda had been asleep for a few minutes and the man sat up in bed, curtains open to allow as much daylight as possible, but was struggling to read the paperback book that he had already read many years ago. He was at page 134 and decided to give in. He put the book on the side table and glanced over at his sleeping girl. He smiled and kissed her on the forehead. He lay down next to her, but shot up as he heard a noise from downstairs.

  He knew that Dicko and Yoler were downstairs, but decided to check it out for peace of mind anyway.

  He crept down to the ground floor and could hear groans as he reached the bottom. He put his ear against the door that led to the living room and could hear the unmistakable sound of two people having sex.

  Jesus. She’s doesn’t waste much time.

  He ascended to the landing, and realised he hadn’t told the two where to sleep. Dicko had slept on the couch the night before, but there were now two of them.

  “There are two extra bedrooms. I’m sure they can work it out for themselves.”

  The groans were now fading, and he went back to the bedroom, back to his little girl.

  *

  Simon had finally drifted off after spending half an hour staring at the ceiling, and dreamt about his wife and son. He didn’t mind dreaming of Diana and Tyler, but on this particular night the dreams weren’t so pleasant. The dream he had was more like a flashback, and it took him back to the time where he had lost both of them.

  His dream took him to the time when he decided that they should leave the house. All four family members were travelling in the family car. Simon had turned left at the roundabout, lost control of the car and veered off the road. The car crashed into a hedge. The car had stalled and Simon desperately tried to start the car, and screamed out as the car was surrounded by a herd of Canavars.

  There were so many surrounding the sides of the car and at the front, and he couldn’t get the vehicle moving again. Imelda and Tyler were hysterical and couldn’t stop screaming in the back passenger seats. Simon unbuckled himself and opened the sunroof. It only opened a few inches so he punched his way through and climbed to the top of the car. He pulled Diana out, Tyler, and then Imelda.

  All four were now standing on the car roof, shaking with fear. There were about a dozen of the dead around the car, but Simon had noticed that there was a gap at the front of the vehicle.

  He grabbed Imelda and yelled to his wife, “Grab Tyler and follow me!”

  Simon stepped down off the roof, onto the bonnet of the car, and jumped down.

  Cold rotten hands could be felt trying to grab him, but he slapped them away with his free hand and ran a few yards, pulling Imelda with him. A scream forced Simon to stop and turn around. He could see that the horde had lost interest in him and Imelda, and had turned their attention to Diana and Tyler.

  Simon took a step forwards and called out for his wife, but Imelda screamed and tried to pull him back. Diana was taken down and disappeared into the crowd and Tyler was next. The little boy screamed at Simon, “Daddy, don’t leave me!” before Simon woke up.

  He sat up in bed and wiped the sweat away from his forehead and under his neck with the palm of his right hand. He looked to his left side and still could see his daughter sleeping. He took a gape outside and could see that the sky was a bruised colour and guessed correctly that it hadn’t passed midnight yet. He didn’t know how long he had been sleeping.

  Maybe just an hour?

  He stood to his feet and approached the window in the dark room. He placed his elbows on the windowsill and gazed out.

  His mind began to drift, but not for long. He could hear Imelda stirring and moaning behind him.

  He smiled thinly at his precious girl and walked back over to the bed with tears in his eyes. He sat down and stroked her head, gently shushing her as she continued to groan. Even with the little light that was left in the room, he could see her pouting lips, her chunky cheeks and little nose.

  “No,” she moaned.

  Simon shushed her and stroked her head again.

  “I don’t want you to sing that song. Stop it, Tyler.”

  Simon shushed her once more. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

  “No, Tyler.”

  “Shh.”

  “Leave me alone. You’re mean.”

  “Shh.”

  She moaned, “Tyler.”

  Imelda’s eyes opened and glared at her dad in the room. She was confused and it took a few seconds to realise where she was.

  “You okay?” Simon asked her and stroked her cheek.

  “Daddy?”

  “I’m here, baby.”

  She sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes. It was clear that she was still half asleep. Simon asked her to lie back down. She did, and he lay next to her.

  “It sounded like you were having a bad dream,” Simon said.

  “I was.” She nodded.

  “What happened?”

  “In my dream, Tyler was being mean to me.” Imelda was becoming emotional and Simon stroked her cheek.

  “Don’t speak.” He continued to stroke her cheek and added, “Just close your eyes, babe. Just close your eyes, my darling.”

  “He was trying to make me sing the Canavar song.”

  “Was he?” He smiled. “Naughty Tyler.”

  “I know.”

  “I remember the song well,” Simon said. “I remember getting him into trouble for teasing you with it.”

  “Why are boys so mean?”

  “I don’t know,” Simon snickered softly. “I was just like Tyler when I was a kid. I was a real pain in the butt. Put your head on my chest and close your eyes.”

  She did as she was told, and rested her head above his heart and put her left arm across his chest. He stroked the back of her head and heard her moan once more.

  “Daddy? Remember when mummy used to call me Le Bossy?”

  “Of course,” he released a small chuckle. “You were always telling people what to do, just like your mother, and we realised your name sounded French, so we teased you now and again and called you Le Bossy.”

  “I miss that,” she said with sadness in her words.

  “Me too, babe.”

  “Daddy?”

  Simon sighed softly. “I thought I told you to go to sleep.”

  “Just one more thing, and then I’ll be quiet.”

  “What is it?”

  “I really miss Tyler.” Imelda took in a deep breath and released it out. Her silky warm hand rested on her dad’s cheek. “And mummy, too.”

  “So do I, babe.”

  “Do you?”

  He kissed Imelda on the top of her head and could feel two tears fall out of each eye. They ran down his cheeks and were soaked up by his daughter’s blonde hair.

  “Yes. I miss them every hour of every day.”

  The young girl sighed and grumbled, “Good night, daddy.”

  He looked at the palm of his hand where the steak knife had pricked, when he had that tussle with the pond guy, before Dicko had killed him, and could see it was healing up. “Good night, my princess.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Next Day

  Breakfast had been served. It consisted of cold spaghetti hoops for Imelda, baked beans for Simon and Dicko, but Yoler had opted to not bother. She told the other three that she wasn’t hungry, which Simon and Dicko thought was a lie, and decided to take the occasional swig of orange juice instead.

  The two new people were sat on the couch; Simon was in the armchair, whereas Imelda was sitting by the table, drawing with a pencil and some paper that had been found a few days ago.

  Simon could see that Yoler and Dicko were occasionally flashing each other glances and then smirking.

  Simon sniggered to himself and decided to have a little fun on their part. He l
ooked over his shoulder before making his tongue in cheek statement to Yoler and Dicko.

  “So…” Simon began and couldn’t help a cheeky smile. “I heard a lot of groaning last night. Was one of you ill? Sore tummy, perhaps?”

  Yoler began to giggle, but Dicko’s face flushed red.

  Dicko was the first out of the two to respond. “I think Yoler was moaning when she was tired, when the two of us were keeping watch. Erm...” Dicko struggled for more words. He was looking uncomfortable, but Simon wasn’t finished with his harmless ribbing.

  Simon said, “I’m pretty sure at one point I could hear the pair of you moaning.”

  “Really?” Dicko scratched his head and his face reddened.

  “Yeah.” Simon nodded. “I was thinking about coming downstairs to see if you guys were okay.”

  Dicko gulped and hunched his shoulders. “I don’t remember making any noises.”

  Yoler’s face was lacking emotion until the corners of her lips elevated slightly. She turned to Dicko and patted his thigh. “Relax. He’s taking the piss, aren’t you, Simes?”

  Simon was unmoved and Dicko scrunched his face up and said, “What?”

  “He heard us at it last night, playing hide the sausage,” Yoler laughed and took a quick glance behind her, making sure Imelda wasn’t picking up on the conversation. “And it’s a good job you didn’t walk in on us, Simes. I can’t imagine how embarrassed you would have been to see Dicko’s hairy arse going up and down while he was balls deep in me and destroying my lady garden.”

  Dicko burst out laughing, and this time Simon had flushed red.

  “Just for the record,” Dicko held his hands up to Simon, “I used protection. On our supermarket trip I picked up a couple of packets of condoms, and—”

  “Alright, alright,” Simon huffed. “You’re adults. I’m not your father, you know. Anyway,” Simon sat up straight and cleared his throat, “when are we going to this orchard, or whatever it is?”

  “As soon as you’re ready,” said Dicko. “It’s about half a mile walk. If we go by car, it could attract thugs, plus I want to save as much petrol as I can. What I had planned was to check the place out on foot, and if there’s a lot of stuff there and no people, we go back for the car.”

 

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