Ghostland_A Zombie apocalypse Novel

by Shaun Whittington

  “Okay.”

  Simon said, “Ready?”

  Imelda nodded, her lips still quivering with the cold. “Are you going to wash my hair as well?”

  Simon nodded, and then bent down and dipped the soap in the water and began rubbing the soap on his hands. He soaped his body, bent over and dipped his head in the water. He rubbed some in his hair and beard and then dipped his head again. He passed Imelda the soap and she began to also wash her body and her hair. She wouldn’t be able to wash it like the old days, but it’d have to do.

  On bath nights, on a Thursday and Sunday, Diana would wash Imelda’s hair with shampoo and then conditioner. She would then dry off and go to her parents’ room to blow dry and brush her hair. As a special treat, Diana would sometimes straighten Imelda’s hair with the hair straighteners. But now, a bar of soap and a cold pond was the best that was on offer.

  Simon looked to his left and could see that Yoler had almost filled the bottles. He had been washed, but was waiting for Imelda to finish washing her hair. He wanted Imelda to use the towel first. If he used it first, she would be left with a damp towel to dry herself off.

  Simon went back to the grass and stood shivering, patiently waiting for his little girl to finish. Finally, Imelda had finished and made her way over to her dad. He picked the towel up and handed it to his little girl. She dried her body first, put her T-shirt back on, and then wrapped the towel around her head.

  “Should have brought two towels,” Simon muttered.

  Simon picked up his black T-shirt off the ground and put it back on his damp body.

  “I’m sorry, daddy,” Imelda said, realising she was hogging the towel.

  “I was almost dry anyway,” Simon began to laugh and turned to Yoler. He called over to her, “What about you? You having a wash?”

  “What are you trying to say, cheeky prick?” Yoler had her hands on her hips and glared at Simon.

  “Erm...” Simon decided to be brutally honest. “Well, I don’t think you’ve washed since you’ve been with us. And didn’t you say you smelt like a fish market?”

  “Am I starting to smell?” Yoler snarled. “Is that what you’re saying? I’m beginning to stink like a monkey’s arse?”

  “Erm...” Simon gulped. He was in two minds whether to reprimand Yoler for saying prick and arse in front of his daughter, but he thought: What’s the point?

  “Relax,” Yoler began to snicker. “I’m just pulling your pisser. Throw me the soap over, you clown.”

  Prick, arse and now pisser. Simon shook his head and still kept his mouth shut.

  He took the soap and threw it over to Yoler, then took the towel and walked over this time and placed it on the grass, near where Yoler was. She kept a hold of the soap and took her top off. Simon turned away when he realised she wasn’t wearing a bra and began to put his shoes and socks back on, helping Imelda with hers.

  “That’s me finished,” Yoler announced some two minutes later. “Everything cleaned: Armpits, buttocks, and even managed to soap up the growler while you weren’t looking.”

  Simon shook his head. “For God’s sake.”

  Yoler walked over to the bag and put the soap in, followed by the towel. She then took the bag and went over to where the bottles were lying and put them in the bag. She bent down and zipped the bag up, ready to go, and then stood up as she threw it over her shoulder.

  “Are you two ready to go?” she asked them.

  Both father and daughter nodded.

  Imelda looked up and gasped, pointing ahead of her and exclaimed, “Daddy! Who’s that?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  All three stood and stared in silence. What they could see in the distance was a boy, no older than ten, walking at the other side of the pond.

  “Where the hell did he come from?” Simon muttered.

  Yoler shook her head. “Bollocksed if I know.”

  Simon raised his hand and waved at the boy. They could all faintly hear that the boy was crying, and guessed that he was lost.

  “Poor thing,” said Simon. “Let’s go round and see what we can do for the little guy.”

  “His guardians can’t be too far away,” Yoler said, and was now following Simon and Imelda, who were both walking around the pond to meet up with the boy.

  “You think?”

  Yoler could feel the heavy bag slipping off her shoulder and moved the strap back up. “There’s no way a child that age could survive on its own. He’s either run away or his guardians have ... well, you know.”

  As they got closer, it was clear that the boy was frightened. He was wearing a pair of red shorts and a matching top, with trainers on his feet.

  Simon, Yoler and Imelda approached the boy and stopped a few yards away from his presence. He looked nervous and teary, but Simon thought without Imelda’s presence the boy would be more terrified.

  “Are you okay, little fellow?” Simon asked the infant and crouched down to his level.

  The boy began to cry and wailed, “I’m lost.”

  “Where’re you from?” Yoler asked the boy.

  The boy pointed into the woods and Yoler and Simon gaped at each other briefly.

  Yoler asked another question. “And what’s your name?”

  “My mummy said I shouldn’t talk to strange people.”

  “Yoler’s not that strange,” Simon tried to joke.

  Yoler stood up straight and looked at Simon. “Shall we take him back to his home?”

  “Home?” Simon blew out his lips and moaned, “We don’t even know where his home is.”

  “Well, we can’t leave him here, can we?”

  Simon stood and thought for a moment, unsure what was for the best. There were only two options he could think of: Take the boy back to his home, wherever that may be. Or take him back to their place and hope that the boy’s guardian decided to look for him at the farm so they could be reunited. Leaving him wasn’t an option.

  “We should try and take him back to his … home. Shall we take Imelda back to the farm first?” Simon asked Yoler.

  “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she responded with no hesitation. “If we return this kid to his guardians and we also have Imelda by our side, the people will know we’re not a threat. And more importantly, we won’t be attacked.”

  “Do you think the people where this boy stays are … bad guys?”

  Yoler laughed at Simon’s naivety, which he took offence to. She stopped giggling and raised her hand at Simon as a way of apologising to the man.

  She said, “I’m sorry. You say bad guys, but maybe we’re the bad guys to other people.”

  Simon ignored Yoler’s comment and turned to the frightened boy. The little man was a cute thing with dark hair and large brown eyes. “Do you know exactly where you stay?”

  “In the woods,” was his vague answer.

  “If he knew exactly where he stayed, Simes,” Yoler snickered, “he wouldn’t be lost in the first place, would he?”

  Simon rubbed his chin in thought and knew that Yoler had a point. Maybe taking him back to theirs was the only thing to do.

  Voices could be heard in the distance, from within the woods. It sounded like two or three different voices, and they were all calling the name David.

  “You recognise those voices?” Yoler asked the little man.

  For the first time, the little boy had managed a wide smile and said, “Mummy’s one of them.”

  “Good.” Simon smiled. “So you must be David.”

  The little boy nodded.

  “We can wait here and let them come to us.”

  “Is that definitely your mummy’s voice,” Yoler asked little David as the voices continued to bellow through the woodland.

  David nodded rapidly and continued to smile; the relief could be seen on his innocent face.

  “Then you should call her, so that she knows where you are.”

  David did as he was told, whilst Simon, Yoler and young Imelda took a step ba
ck.

  The woman’s voice yelled, seconds after David called out for his mum, “David! Oh my God! David, is that you?”

  “I’m by the pond, mummy!” David cried.

  “Straight ahead!” the woman’s voice yelled to her companions.

  Simon and Yoler didn’t know exactly whom she was talking to, but they’d soon know. They could see three figures in the trees heading their way. Yoler and Simon gazed into the trees as the excited yells continued, but they still couldn’t see the faces of the three individuals that were approaching.

  David took a step closer to the trees and ran in once he clocked his mum’s face.

  Both mother and son hugged from around twenty yards where Yoler, Simon and Imelda were standing, and could see his mother break away from the embrace and look at the three of them with suspicion. So did her other two male companions.

  Simon and Yoler could hear the little lad say to his mum, “It’s okay, mummy. They’re my friends.”

  Friends. Bless his innocence. Simon smiled. He doesn’t even know us.

  Simon took in a deep breath as the four individuals, including David, began to walk forwards. They were heading out of the trees and around the pond, heading for Simon, Yoler and Imelda.

  The people from the woods practically stepped out at the same time. The first person that Simon had clocked was a woman in her late thirties. It was David’s mum. She was in tears, had dark bobbed hair, brown eyes and was very pretty in the face. She was a little heavy, but Simon thought that she was very attractive.

  The woman walked over to Simon and gave him a hug. “Thank you,” she cried. “Thank you so much.”

  She broke away and wiped her eyes. She took a step backwards and put her arm around her son. The two other people that were with her were men. There was a man in his thirties, with dark hair, attractive and slim. There was also a scary looking individual, bald, thin, and looked to be in his early forties, and he stood next to the thankful woman.

  The pretty woman placed her hand on her chest and said, “My name’s Helen.” She then pointed at the scary bald man to her side. “This is Donald. He’s our leader.” She then turned and pointed at the younger man with dark hair. “And this is Gavin.”

  Simon smiled and introduced Yoler and his daughter to the three of them.

  Neither party shook hands or even spoke to one another. They simply gave a nod of the head once they were introduced. There was an awkward silence between the two groups, forcing Yoler to say, “I’m glad you have your boy back. We better be off.”

  “Of course.” Helen smiled. It was such a pretty smile, Simon thought.

  “Right,” the bald man standing next to Helen growled, “crisis over. Let’s get back.”

  “Back to where?” Yoler asked politely.

  “None of your fucking business,” the bald man snapped. “That’s where, darling.”

  Yoler took a step forward, narrowed her eyes and said, “The last guy that called me darling got a knife in his gut.”

  “Donald,” Helen scolded, “don’t talk to her like that. These are good people.”

  “Its okay,” Simon laughed. “I suppose we’re all a bit paranoid … and maybe a little overprotective.”

  “Mummy?” David spoke.

  “What is it?” Helen bent down and David whispered in her ear. As this was going on, Helen glanced over at Imelda a couple of times.

  Once David had finished his whispering, Helen stood up and said, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, David. I think we better go back and leave these people in peace.”

  “What’s up?” Simon asked. He had an idea what the short conversation was about, but asked anyway.

  “David would like to play with Imelda for a while.” Helen blushed and scratched the back of her head. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen someone of similar age.”

  “Same here.” Simon looked at Yoler and thought for a few seconds before saying, “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you come to ours for a couple of hours? We also have another person back at the farmhouse you should meet.”

  “You live on a farm?”

  Simon nodded.

  Helen looked at Donald. “How did we not come across that?”

  “I knew it was there all along,” the bald man growled. “We’re better off in the woods, and not out in the open, exposed.”

  “Anyway,” Simon continued before an argument broke out between Helen and the volatile Donald. “Come to ours and we’ll walk you back to yours later on. What do you say?”

  Donald and Gavin looked at one another and shook their heads. They didn’t approve.

  “Don’t worry, guys,” snickered Simon. “I meant just Helen and David.” Simon then flashed the two men a cheeky smile and gave the pair of them a wink. “You’re not invited.”

  “I don’t want this prick knowing where we’re staying, you dig what I’m sayin’?” Donald pointed a menacing finger over at Simon.

  Helen sighed at Donald and said, “He’s taking us to his place first. Calm down. And he saved David.”

  “Well,” Simon began, “I’m not sure we saved the boy. We just stood about for a bit.”

  “Anyway,” Helen grabbed David’s hand and said to Donald, “We won’t be long.”

  “We’ll bring them back in one piece,” Yoler spoke to the bald man and gave him a little wave.

  The man called Donald Brownstone bit his lip and huffed, “Fine. Do what you fucking want!”

  “Now, now,” Helen sniggered. “Language in front of the kids.”

  Simon waved goodbye to Donald and Gavin. Donald just glared, but Gavin waved them off as Helen, David, Simon, Yoler and Imelda began to move away from Gavin and Donald and around the pond, heading back.

  Helen, David and Imelda were walking ahead as Simon and Yoler lagged a few yards behind.

  “Well, he seems delightful,” Simon said to Yoler, referring to the Donald character. “Charming, wasn’t he?”

  “Charming?” Yoler scoffed and said in a whisper, “More like a cunt. The younger guy seems okay. I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for farting.”

  Simon said, “I don’t think that Donald fellow likes you.”

  “Doesn’t like me? That’s fine. He can take a seat with the rest of the bitches that are waiting for me to give a fuck.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Dicko was outside and admiring Yoler’s handy work. He folded his arms and stared at the soon-to-be vegetable patch, and at the buckets where she had planted the potato seeds. Originally she was going to plant the potatoes in the patch, but had changed her mind. Yoler told Dicko that it would take between two to three months for them to be ready, as well as the other produce. Thank goodness they had raided the supermarket and the kiosk at the visitor centre, Dicko thought.

  Dicko could hear voices from behind him. He turned around, his hand resting on the leather holster where the trench knife rested, and took a few steps forwards, looking down the grassy hill.

  Five figures could be seen approaching from a fair distance. He knew three of them, but the female and the little boy were a mystery. What’s this? More survivors? Two more mouths to feed?

  He stood with his hands on his hips and waited for the first person to approach. When they were only twenty yards away, he was greeted with smiles and a wave from Imelda. Dicko raised his hand and said to Simon, “What’s this?” He nodded over to Helen and her son.

  “They’re guests,” Simon began to explain. “We’ve actually managed to bump into people that are decent for a change.”

  “Apart from that Donald geezer,” said Yoler. “He’s a bit of a bell end.”

  “Donald’s okay,” said Helen. “He’s just a bit grumpy.” Helen held out her hand and introduced herself and her son to Dicko.

  “I’m Dicko,” he said.

  Helen never batted an eyelid and accepted Dicko’s name without making any wisecracks.

  “Go inside,” Simon urged mother and son. “Have a look around.”
/>   “Come on.” Yoler took Imelda’s hand and said to the guests, “I’ll show you about.”

  They disappeared inside and Simon told Dicko what had happened once they were left alone.

  “And they’re only visiting, right?” Dicko asked Simon, looking concerned. “I don’t want this place ending up like The Little House on the Prairie.”

  “Don’t worry, John Boy,” Simon laughed and said further, “They already have a place in the woods. We met two others. They seem ... okay, kind of. Two guys.”

  “You don’t sound so sure,” Dicko began to snigger.

  “Anyway,” Simon sighed. “We’re gonna take a walk over to their place once Helen’s had enough here.”

  “She seems quite nice.” Dicko began to smile and winked at Simon, playfully nudging him in the side.

  “She is, so keep your filthy mitts off her.” Simon gave Dicko a glare, but Dicko could see that he couldn’t keep a straight face. “Anyway, we don’t even know her background. She could be a widow. She could be grieving.”

  “She could also be choking for it,” Dicko laughed.

  “You’re a very bad man.” Simon tucked in his top lip and began to chew it in thought. He turned to Dicko and said, “About yesterday...”

  “Let’s not go over this again.” Dicko shook his head. “Forget it. I have.”

  “Admittedly, I left you in the shit, and I’m sorry.” Simon ran his shaky fingers through his beard and continued, “Imelda and I have spent most of our days hiding. We’ve had to.”

  “You don’t have to explain. Seriously.” Dicko placed a comforting hand on Simon’s shoulder and could see he was beating himself up over the incident. “I understand why you did it. Your experience of violence and confrontations is minimal, and not only that...”

  “What?”

  “Like you’ve mentioned before … If anything happened to you…”

  “Just the thought of her being alone for one day, after all she’s been through, kills me inside.”

  “Okay.” Dicko smiled and scratched his nose. “Let’s just say that you die tomorrow. Do you honestly think me and Yoler would up sticks and abandon that little girl?”