I Dream of Zombies (Book 2): Haven

by Vickie Johnstone

  Monday, 9

  Tommy followed Ellen out into the yard space behind the facility. Taking a seat on the nearest wooden bench, he waited until she had walked a distance away from anyone else. She stood with her back to him, oblivious, staring out across the green fields beyond the wire fencing into infinity. He could guess her thoughts by her stance and imagined the dream-like, far-off expression in her eyes that he had seen a hundred times since she learnt of her sister’s death. She would be thinking of Marla in this instant; he had no doubt of it. He had no idea how to tell her that what she had believed these past weeks was actually wrong.

  Tommy noticed the positions of the various guards; some smoking, some talking, others observing the average Joes or nothing at all. He knew his time was numbered here now and he had no desire to help protect the place any longer, but that was something else; a discussion for another day. Right now there was only one thing to say. Drawing in a deep breath, he stood and made his way towards Ellen. The gravel crunched beneath his boots and she turned. Her initial look of apprehension immediately switched into a smile.

  “Hi, Tommy,” she said. “Isn’t this beautiful, the last rays of the day? I love this time and the sky turns to a golden egg-yolk colour, almost like it’s dripping from the clouds.”

  He smiled back at her and then followed her line of sight. “It is,” he replied, having never had many words to describe the sinking sun. “I need to speak to you about something, but just continue to look happy and imagine I’m talking about the sun or my dog…”

  “I don’t under…”

  “Just humour me, Ellen,” Tommy cut in, “and quit gawking at me. Just look at the sun setting with me and don’t look at my face. Look ahead and don’t react to anything I say, other than laugh or something. Do the opposite of what you feel.”

  “Tommy, quit acting weird,” she answered, although she obeyed in staring up at the streaks of gold.

  “I’ve reason to believe this place is bugged and that we’re being watched.”

  “Seriously?” she asked, but hushed and set a smile upon her lips.

  He nodded. “I’m positive, and you must believe me and be careful. Ever since that day when Marla was left in the library…”

  Ellen fixed her eyes on the clouds. “Please don’t speak of her. It’s too difficult…” Her voice broke off and she bit her lip.

  “I know. I’m sorry. It was for me, too…”

  “Was?”

  “Please look straight ahead and don’t react to what I’m saying. I’m sure we are being watched… well, maybe everyone is.”

  “Why would they?”

  He sighed. “That’s the big question: exactly what is going on here? And there was me thinking the biggest threat was the freak show outside.”

  “Tommy, it’s probably paranoia… cabin fever…”

  “Don’t look at me, but there are two people here. They’ve just arrived from Amesbury. Now don’t turn or react… what I’m about to tell you I wouldn’t have believed either, but I read her letter and it was her writing…”

  “Her?”

  “Marla. She’s alive,” Tommy said softly.

  Ellen coughed and put her hand to her mouth. Tears rushed to the corners of her eyes and she swallowed hard, willing them back. Focusing straight ahead, she coughed again. “Why are you saying these things, Tommy?”

  “Because it’s true. One of these two people, a woman, followed me out here. She warned me this place could be bugged and rigged with cameras, besides the ones we can see. That’s how they got Marla… they saw her on the cameras.”

  “I don’t understand, Tommy. Why are you saying this?”

  He sighed. “Because it’s true.”

  Ellen sniffed and blinked back her tears, wary of wiping her face and suddenly conscious of the other people in the yard. She peered up at the nearest camera on top of the fence and then back at the golden sky. Unable to comprehend what her friend was saying, she stayed quiet.

  “The woman from Amesbury gave me a letter, which I read later in my room. It was from Marla, Ellen, there is no doubt about it. She really is alive. I didn’t want to believe anything else, I admit, and I was living on false hope, but I am in no doubt now that she is alive.”

  “This is cruel,” mumbled Ellen. “How can you be sure? Maybe the woman is lying.” She wiped her eye hurriedly and then attempted a laugh to conceal her emotions from others.

  “The writing is Marla’s. She’s in Amesbury right now. When she went into the basement, she found bodies… not only of the dead but of the living. The scientists are experimenting on them.”

  Ellen looked swiftly at Tommy and he nodded. “Why?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”

  “I know. Neither do I. She was caught red-handed by Jakob.”

  “Jakob?”

  “Yes, she says not to trust him. She was locked in a cell in this place before being taken to Amesbury, where she was dumped on the street.”

  Ellen swallowed down the lump forming in her throat, and the rising mixture of tension and panic that thumped in her chest. “Oh my God, Tommy…” She bit her tongue, fighting to hold back her emotions before tears streamed down her face.

  “But she’s safe. She says that. The two people came here to warn us and get us out. It isn’t safe here, Ellen.”

  “I can’t believe she’s alive…” Ellen sniffed and coughed again. “I need to go in. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

  Tommy nodded and placed his arm around her shoulder. Then he pretended to point something out in the distance. “I’m sorry I had to tell you out here. I didn’t know what else to do. Try not to cry. Inside, be really careful and don’t tell anyone about this, not even our friends. I don’t know if our rooms are bugged. I’m assuming the bathrooms aren’t. Try to go about everything as normal. Don’t think about the cameras and stuff, but know they might be there. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Ellen, but we have to get out of here.”

  “Can’t we just ask for transfers to other places? I could ask to be with my mum and Marla could come…”

  “You could try, but I don’t know if they’d really let us out of there. As for Marla…”

  “Who do you mean by ‘they’? The administrator, Caballero or the government? Who is controlling things here, because I don’t get it; I really don’t. This is meant to be a safe place… why would they be experimenting on people when the problem is the dead out there?”

  Tommy laughed and shook his head, and pretended to point again. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t understand either. I’m just glad your sister is alive and I think we need to get out of here as soon as we can. She won’t ever abandon you, Ellen.”

  Ellen coughed again. “I know. This is so much to take in, Tommy. I’m so happy, but I feel sick at the same time and frightened. I wish we hadn’t come here and just stayed on the boat.”

  He gazed into the dying light, wondering how they could possibly walk out of this place. “I wish that too.”

  Wednesday, 11

  As he munched on a marmite and rubbery cheese sandwich, Tommy caught sight of Leah entering the cafeteria. Subtly, he watched her walk towards the counter and talk to the woman behind it.

  “Who’s she?” asked Billy, nodding his head towards her.

  “Her name is Leah,” Tommy whispered, “and I met her outside on Sunday. She’s the one who told me about Marla. Seems nice enough.”

  “She looks it.”

  Tommy chuckled. “Stop staring.” Finishing his sandwich, he took a swig of his cup of tea.

  “I’m just a guy,” Billy said with a grin.

  “That’s what worries me!”

  Leah approached them carrying a chocolate muffin and a mug of coffee. “Hi,” she said warmly.

  “How’s it going?” Tommy asked her as she sat down.

  “Not bad. I’m still getting a feel for the place. Doug will be along in a second. He’s just paying.”

  Tommy turned and checked out th
e man at the till: average height and build, short brown hair and a goatee, and aged in his forties. He was dressed in blue jeans, heavy boots and a green-and-white checked shirt. The service girl was laughing, so Tommy surmised he also had a good sense of humour. Turning back, he asked, “So, you’re settling in okay?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, it’s great to not wake up with zombies outside the window, but I imagine cabin fever is gonna kick in at some point,” she replied and then bit into her chocolate muffin. “Life must get a bit repetitive in here, but wow, this muffin tastes good!”

  “Talking of good, this is Billy,” said Tommy with a grin. “Sound guy. We met out on the road literally. Well, on a train track to be precise. He helped us out.”

  “You helped me out after,” Billy replied, before turning to Leah. “Guess we helped each other out and then ended up here. I used to be a train driver. What’s your story?”

  She finished the muffin in no time at all and sighed. “It’s a long story. I drifted. I was on my own, unfortunately, but then I met Doug and I’ve managed to stay safe since.”

  “I’m not that much of a hero.”

  The three of them turned to see Doug standing with a can of Coke in one hand and a bowl of chips in the other. “Mind if I take a seat?”

  Tommy grinned. “Go for it.”

  “Take a chip if you want one,” Doug invited, placing the bowl on the table.

  Billy dipped his hand in straight away, muttering, “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Leah lent towards Tommy and whispered into his ear, “Does he know?”

  He nodded and she smiled. “Good, that’s one.”

  “There will be more,” said Tommy, “but I’m not sure when to tell them.”

  “We can’t really talk here, despite the noise of other people,” warned Doug, “so where’s safest?”

  “Outside, I guess. If you joined the guard there would be more opportunities and you’d have access to weapons. They check you out though.”

  “I was in the army in North Carolina, so they’ll find out my record is good.”

  “You’re American?” asked Tommy, although the question was only rhetorical as he’d already clocked the Southern accent.

  “Born and bred,” Doug responded. “Grew up near the beach, which is great stuff for a kid – all that fishing and swimming. Ah, I miss that.”

  “I imagine. Never been to the States ever.”

  “Shame. You’d like it, I reckon. I dropped out of college after one semester and joined up. All I wanted to do was be in the army. Did one hitch, got out, got married, went back to school and became an accountant. Guess I got serious. But then I changed my mind and became a math teacher.”

  “Did you miss the army after you left?” asked Tommy.

  “Some,” said Doug, “but I preferred the relative safety of accountancy. Slower, but okay. I spent four years in the infantry, two in the Republic of Korea, and I did two seventy-five day tours on the DMZ in Korea. I reckon it will be like riding a bike, joining the guard here.”

  “He’s actually a writer too,” Leah cut in. “Always with his pen and notebook. He’s been writing since he was twelve!”

  “Really?” asked Billy.

  Doug chuckled. “I only got serious about it lately. Maybe it’s all this doom and gloom out there – I need something to escape into.”

  “Makes sense to me,” said Tommy.

  “What type of stuff do you write?” asked Billy.

  “I’m working on a romance,” answered Doug with a laugh. Billy raised an eyebrow and the man laughed again. “I know, I don’t look the type, but I get to thinking about my wife and kids, and I end up writing romance!”

  “They okay?” asked Billy automatically and then hoped he hadn’t put his foot in it. When Doug nodded, he let out a breath of relief.

  “Yep, they’re not with me, but the last thing I heard, she and my sons were safe. That’s the second-best option. We’ve been married for over twenty-five years and I think I’d sense if something was wrong. I’m sure she’s fine and I don’t dare doubt it. She’s back home in North Carolina. Sure as hell wish I hadn’t come here for a damn convention, but I’m glad my family haven’t had to go through what we have.”

  “The administrator told us it hadn’t spread beyond here and parts of Europe,” said Tommy. “So they are in the best place, I reckon, and your military is bigger than ours.”

  “Yeah, I just keep hoping.”

  “That’s all you can do. I have a son and we were split up for a while, but he’s here now. His name is Ash.”

  “You’re married?” asked Doug, squirting ketchup on to his chips.

  “Divorced.”

  “Ah.”

  “Oh yes,” said Tommy with a sigh. “But the good thing about this freaky mess is that we actually get on now, with there being bigger things around to complain about.”

  “I hear you there,” Doug whispered, “but we need to get this plan on the road. The date we leave is Sunday the twenty-second. It can’t be changed and a meeting place has been picked. It’s noisy enough in here right now that we can talk low, but presume they have cameras and bugging devices in this building. We really need to be careful.”

  “Reckon outside and bathrooms are safe,” said Tommy.

  Billy shrugged. “So why aren’t we talking there?”

  “He’s got a point,” said Leah. “Let’s vote on whose bathroom.”

  Friday, 13

  Ellen’s dream

  Once in her pyjamas and slippers, Ellen followed Rita out of the changing area and into the sleep study room. Walking towards the bed, her imagination swept back to the conversation with Tommy and her hopes of seeing Marla again soon. Feeling her pulse speed up, she tried to focus on the bed and empty her thoughts, almost fearing they could be read. As if, she told herself.

  Pushing back the white cotton sheets, Ellen sat down on the mattress before raising her bare feet and sliding them inside. Try to act normally, she told herself, resting her head back against the soft pillow while Rita smoothed the sheets down neatly below her shoulders. Ellen folded her arms on the outside and waited. He was late today.

  While Rita placed the sensors on her arms and face as usual, Ellen gazed up at the white-painted ceiling, wishing she were somewhere else. She did not want to be here today or to help in any way at all. If only they would all leave her alone in peace. Eyeing the nurse, she wondered what she knew; whether she spied on her in some way.

  A creak drew Ellen’s attention to the door, which opened. Quickly, she glanced away, knowing it was he, Doctor Grice. She recognised his footsteps, along with those of Owen. Perhaps the young man was trustable, but she doubted it. They were all in on this together. She was the experiment and she wanted out.

  “How are you feeling this evening, Ellen?” asked the doctor.

  “Fine,” she said, forcing a smile, even though it made her feel nauseous; the same instinctive reaction she had to the dead. She found herself unable to look at the man.

  “I wanted to speak to you about sleeping here permanently for a week or so, but only if you wish it, of course. It is entirely up to you, but I thought we might be able to finish our study sooner and free you from it. What do you think, Ellen?”

  “Perhaps,” she replied, disinterested. For a moment she felt outside of herself, her body no longer her own, as if she was not really there, but detached somehow, watching her own reactions. If only. But she did not know how to say no without arousing suspicion. “I’ll have a think about it,” she offered, closing her eyes to the world.

  ***

  He rises from the bed, his face moving ever closer; the layers of skin lifting off into the air, tearing back in slow, slow motion to reveal the pumping blood, veins and muscles beneath. Angst and horror ravage her mind, but she wills herself on, to act, to do something before his jagged teeth seek to snap the tendons in her neck, for she senses… no, she knows it will happen.

  Something shifts then in the air. She
feels it. So subtle, so easy to miss; it is nothing and yet it is everything. It is what gives her the power.

  Peeling the soles of her feet off the ground, she takes one step backwards, followed by another. His eyes are still fixed on her. The white orbs seem to flicker in their dark sockets, seeing nothing, yet seeing all, seeing her. She steps again. In the distancing, she feels a slip in the atmosphere; a movement. There is… she knows not, but it is there. Hidden, listening; she feels it.

  In this split, endless second her body flees and suddenly she is one with it, sliding, racing down the corridor into blackness. It waits like a sleeping animal, this darkness, scooping her up inside it, willing her to follow its curve as it eels away.

  In front of her sweeps the scent of death: rotting meat; decay. She swallows, resisting the urge to be sick. Glancing over her shoulder, he is there, not so far behind her as to not be a threat anymore. Threat: the word sticks in her mind. Its importance she cannot define, but it seems to float, filling the void. Ahead the pitch black reigns. The more she tries to focus on it, the more it appears to open like a physical door; the way of mist inviting her to escape.

  She plunges into the dark, recognising its touch, having been here so many times before. Knowing what lies ahead, she races into it, bereft of fear. It represents salvation and feeling this, her terror evaporates. Her eyes scan the scene for a weapon; anything with which to fight the creature.

  Spying an ornate case lying on the ground, she kneels down to pick it up. Its heavy weight surprises her and she almost drops it. The design on the outer case so intricate, the material so old, draws her. The katana, for she knows its name without knowing, curves. Gripping the ornamental handle, around which a design like ivy and delicate flowers turns, she pulls back the guard slightly to expose the blade beneath. It glints like pure gold. But I don’t know how to use it. Time is of the essence and she places it carefully back on the ground.

  Behind her, it wails, the noise building, layer upon layer, seeking to destroy the silence, smothering the air with this deluge of vengeance for her denial of him. He will come; she can feel it.