The Shuffling Dead Box-set

by Ian Woodhead

  The large middle-aged woman had one of those incredible faces just built for smiling. Combined with her compassionate manner and her genuine desire to help, it didn’t take Alison long to fall in love with the woman.

  As soon as she had left her in the room after showing her everything and promising to bring her a cup of tea, Alison’s suppressed emotions took her by surprise and broke through the hardened shell that she’d built around her damaged psyche. She sat upon the pale, floral bedspread and unleashed a never-ending torrent of hot tears.

  It took her a while to get herself back together but Alison did feel better, if a little drained. The landlady, as promised, returned and lightly tapped on the door. Alison ignored her, knowing that if that kind lady saw her in this state, her benevolent face, filled to the brim with concern and sympathy would have set her off again. If that happened, Alison didn’t think she’d ever be able to get herself back into a semblance of order.

  Alison waited another twenty minutes before moving off the bed. She opened the door a crack and, seeing the corridor empty, opened the door a little wider to find a cup of lukewarm tea and a plate of digestives waiting for her, beside the door. There was even a yellow post-it note stuck to the edge of the saucer telling her not to hesitate to give her a ring if she needed anything. She almost broke down in tears after reading the note.

  Those kids giving given up on their game of throwing dog biscuits at each other. She watched them all take up relaxed positions on the benches and around the playground equipment before a small blond boy was coerced into handing out the contents of his cigarette packet.

  She smiled at their silly antics then stood up and yawned. Alison felt as though she could sleep for a week. All this fresh country air was playing havoc with her system. She really did need her bed. One of the kids wolf whistled at her, followed by some inaudible words that caused at least two of them to fall about laughing.

  “Gee, what a big, hard gang of rebels.” She uttered, grinning to herself.

  Their banter abruptly stopped at the sight of an old man shuffling towards the play area. It didn’t appear that he’d seen the kids yet but that soon changed when the blonde threw a bottle in his direction. The glass smashed on the path a few feet away from the old man. Every one of them erupted in gales of laughter. Alison wondered if she ought to sit back down to enjoy the ensuring frolics.

  One of the major drawbacks of living in such a close-knit community was that, unlike the cities where you had a certain degree of anonymity, most people either knew you or at least was on nodding terms with at least one member of your family. How could the kids maintain that rebel attitude when any backchat they gave to another villager would inevitably find its way back to their parents?

  Alison and Trisha had learnt that lesson when they both skived off from school and were seen by the postman. It took a few days for the news to reach Alison’s dad but after the beating he’d given her, Alison never did it again. In this age of mobile phones, Alison reckoned that those kiddies’ parents would be finding out about this incident before any of them even got home.

  She stayed on her feet, carefully watching the man stop and turn. There was something not quite right about the way he moved, was he drunk? The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when the man issued a deep bestial groan and lurched towards the play area. Something was definitely wrong here; Alison didn’t need her months of street living to tell her that those kids were in danger. She quickly glanced around the park in the hope that someone else had noticed this. Seeing the area empty, she hurried across the grass.

  Before, his movements were slow and erratic. Now, he closed in on those kids, acting like a starving man spotting food. Alison blinked and shook away that ridiculous notion. He was just a nutter, probably high on some narcotic, he sure as fuck wasn’t a bloody cannibal. Whatever he was, that weirdo posed a serious threat to those kids.

  “Don’t just stand there!” she shouted. “Get away from him.”

  The kids didn’t appear to have heard her; they remained motionless like kittens, unaware of the danger. Their insular education had just not prepared them for situations like this. They only moved when the man reached the waist high yellow painted fence and lunged over, trying the grab the nearest boy.

  She reached the other side and ran through the bright red metal gate and up to the nearest boy. “Stop your gawping, lad and move it!” she said grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around. The voice within their midst seemed to break their paralysis; they turned as one and pushed past Alison. One boy still remained, the blonde haired lad, he could get away as the man gripped the boys sleeve and was trying to pull him towards him.

  “Get the fuck off him, you freak!” she shouted whilst running towards the boy.

  He looked straight at Alison and she saw a pair of lifeless eyes staring back at her. Oh Jesus, this fucker was seriously up there orbiting the planets. Alison grabbed the other boy’s arms and tried to pull him back. The old man responded by growling and dipping his head down. She watched in absolute horror as the man opened his mouth and fastened his jaws around the boy’s wrist.

  The kid screamed when the man closed his jaws then pulled his head back, taking with him a red raw chunk of meat. The blonde boy fell back into Alison when the man let go. She pushed the sobbing boy towards his crying friends then grabbed the dog food bag off the bench.

  “Don’t just fucking stand there, get him out of the park and ring for an ambulance.” She turned her attention back to the man who hadn’t moved away from the fence, he just stood there, gazing at her, with his creepy dead eyes whilst chewing.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” she shouted.

  Alison ran towards the man, jumped out of the way of his arms and threw the empty bag over his head. He still didn’t move nor did the man attempt to remove the bag.

  “You must be on some serious fucking medication, mate.”

  Those kids were safely out of the park, she wanted to follow them to make sure they found help but Alison dare not leave this fucker to wander about and bite anyone else. She slowly backed out of the play area, keeping her sight on him, the man stayed just where he was; his reptilian stillness frightened the hell out of her. She thought she knew every drug going but nothing in her experience could cause anything like this. Alison turned and ran for the gates, deciding to let the police sort all this weird shit out; she turned around one more time before reaching the gates, that old man didn’t seem to be going anywhere.

  The kids had also gone, Alison spun around, hoping to spot any of them. There were a few blood spots on the floor; they lead towards the village hall. She just hoped that one of them had taken her advice and called for an ambulance. Then again, if they’d gone back into the centre, somebody was bound to see them and get help.

  What was she going to do about the drugged-up freakazoid? Alison couldn’t leave that in the park, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if he attacked another kid. What other choice did she have though? What if the copper who’d helped to abuse her all those years ago just happened to arrive on the scene, the one with the unmistakable voice, she didn’t think she’d be responsible for her actions. It was way too soon for a confrontation.

  “Fuck it,” she muttered. “There was a phone box a few minutes from here, she’d ring from there. The chances were that the police were already on their way, somebody must have found the kids by now.

  Alison ran across the road and rushed back into the village, she didn’t think that this day could get any stranger.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Clarence Fisher wiped the condensation off his glasses, and his out of focus world returned to normal clarity when he pushed them back. His mother kept telling him to go back to the opticians; the woman was convinced that he was losing his sight. He sighed, despite being fifty-two next year; the silly mare still treated him like a child

  “You’re fifty-one and still single, my lad. What in donkey’s doodahs are you playing at?”


  Thanks to his father leaving him the village bakery plus a few wise investments, Clarence had plenty of money. His job kept him fit and the mirror in the bathroom reminded him daily that he wasn’t a horse-faced ogre. He even still retained his hair! Clarence blamed his imposed celibacy on the annoying fact that the bitch in the bedroom had been putting off every potential mate ever since he was seventeen.

  That reminded him, a trip to the seedier area of Birmingham was still to be arranged for next week.

  He looked back, at the freezer door and stroked his unshaven face, maybe he won’t have to. He still wasn’t sure why Anne had asked him to do this, he wasn’t really listening but the lady sure was being very nice to him.

  “Are you alright in there, Clarence?”

  He shivered and it wasn’t just due to the freezing temperature, that magnificent woman really had a gorgeous voice. He loved it when she called out his name.

  “I’m fine, sweetheart, nearly done.”

  He’d had a crush on her for two decades now, he’d often fantasised about Anne screaming out his name as they made love under the moonlight; he shivered again.

  Clarence tapped the thermometer bolted to the wall; as per usual the gauge was still stuck at minus five. It felt colder than that. Then again, it had been stuck on the setting for nearly three years now. The shop’s walk-in freezer was cold enough; he didn’t need a gauge to tell him that, all must be the proximity to that woman causing him to feel so cold.

  “Come on, my lad.” He whispered. “Get a grip on yourself.”

  He bent down pulled away an old cardboard box that appeared empty and pushed the final loaf of bread in its place. He smiled when he looked in the box, it wasn’t empty after all; Clarence tipped the box out and half a cheese pasty and a frozen mouse fell to the floor. He booted them both into a corner, intending to bin them after Anne had gone. There was little chance of health and safety paying him a surprise visit. In all the years of owning the shop, he’d only been visited once and that was over ten years ago. Most folk tended to forget that their village existed. Then again, considering what he’d heard on the radio this afternoon, he gathered that the authorities would have a bit too much on their plate to be worried about the state of his freezer.

  He hurried out and pushed the door shut, Clarence breathed in deep, enjoying air that didn’t burn his lungs.

  “Okay, Anne.” He said turning around, “the shop is now devoid of food. Now, are you going to explain why I’ve just emptied all my shelves?”

  She took one step towards him, he breathed in again, this time enjoying her distinctive fragrance; he decided there and then that he’d give this woman the shop if he could spend just one night with her.

  Anne slowly drew her forefinger down his cheek, stopping at Clarence’s lips, “Because I asked you?”

  He jerked his head forward and pretended to bite her finger, enjoying the brief look of surprise that made a tantalizing appearance before a look of annoyance replaced it. Clarence enjoyed that expression too.

  He smiled to show that he didn’t mean it. He hoped the woman would forgive his little joke and return the smile. Clarence never became tired of watching her face light up when she smiled. God, she really was such a beautiful lady. He’d been hearing rumours from the few customers he’d had so far today about a certain George Kasnovski wandering around the village with no other than Anne hanging off his arm. That was one rumour that intended to ignore. What a ridiculous notion. George was a decent enough bloke, who’d do anything for his friends but this angel was way out of his league. Besides, the man still grieved for Madison.

  Clarence had a suspicious feeling who had stared that one. That fucking butcher, Tom Maryland. That blonde dwarf had been sweet on Anne ever since his balls had dropped, he didn’t think the twenty year age difference mattered. To Clarence’s knowledge, he’d asked her to have dinner with Tom at least five times. She’d turned him down of course. Not that he blamed her, Tom only came up to her shoulders. Tom now thought it perfectly acceptable to go around pissing in the face of any other potential suitor.

  The woman nodded briefly before walking out of the back room and into the now empty front shop.

  “Anne? You still haven’t told me why I’ve emptied the shop.”

  “What about those remaining bits of meat that the butcher couldn’t fit into his freezer? Will there be room in yours?” She said, ignoring him.

  Clarence shook his head, resisting the urge to make a crude joke about fitting Clarence’s meat into her. It did make him feel a bit better that she addressed Tom by his trade. “I’m sorry; Anne, but I’ve just no more room in there.”

  He stood in front of the woman, feeling awkward when it became clear that she wasn’t going to answer him. “This is about the riots, isn’t it?”

  Something on the next level suddenly hit the floor.

  “What was that?” she gasped.

  Clarence looked up at the ceiling wishing his mother would just drop dead. “Don’t worry about it, Anne it’s just my mum banging on the floor, she probably wants a cup of tea or something.”

  “Are you sure?” Anne followed his gaze, “That sounded more like she’d fallen out of her bed.”

  She had thrown herself out of her bed. This was his mother’s latest fun game. The first time, she’d done it; Clarence suspected that it had been genuine. It had frightened the hell out of him; he’d called doctor Bishop to get her checked over. Since that time, she’d done this eight times, nine including this one. He’d sort out the attention seeking old bag as soon as Anne had gone, which he hoped would be never.

  “Clarence, I really think you should check on her, you know.”

  He shook his head, “Honest, she’s fine, mum does this all the time. Now, come on Anne, what’s going on?”

  “This plague is raging out of control. I’ve just come back from Ken’s farm.”

  He decided not to ask her what she was doing out there when he watched her shiver. The blood drained from her face.

  “It’s also here, in Seeton. Everyone is going to panic, Clarence. Once they find out, the first thing they’ll do is strip all the shops.”

  “Is it really that bad? From what I heard, they’d got it under control.”

  Anne shook her head, “They’re lying. It’s worse than they say. Believe me; I’ve seen what it does to people. There are a few strangers in the village as well. You can bet that they’ll be the first to start throwing bricks through your windows.”

  He nodded; Clarence served a blonde, pretty young thing earlier on. She bought all his Steak pies.

  “We need to protect ourselves and our stuff. Believe me, Clarence; help will not be coming anytime soon, the others that I’ve spoken to agree. Now, before I do go, do you have anything to cover your windows? A couple of plywood sheets ought to do the job.”

  He nodded, “I’ve a few sheets left over from when I converted the loft. I think they’re in the cellar.”

  She suddenly bent across and kissed him gently on the lips. “Thanks for doing this, Clarence. You’re such a sweet man.”

  He smiled again and this time she did return his smile. “Think nothing of it, anything for you, my dear, you know that.”

  “Now listen, Clarence, there’s going to be a village meeting later tonight at around seven. Every business owner in Seeton needs to be there and that, of course includes you, my sweet.”

  He scratched his head, “A village meeting? Gosh, we haven’t had one of those for a long time.”

  “I’ll pick you up just before seven. I strongly advise you to get the shop secured and then stay inside until I return. Believe me when I say that you do not want to bump into anyone who’s infected.”

  He nodded then watched her leave his shop and climb into the cab of a Land rover, there were a couple of men in there with her but the vehicle had driven off before he had chance to recognise them. Still, he didn’t care.

  “That was our first kiss.” He said. Clarence
couldn’t believe it, after all these years, it looked as though his persistence was paying off.

  The floor above his head shook once more.

  “That’ll be the reading lamp smashed,” he muttered. “Unless she’s climbed back into bed and thrown herself out again. He wouldn’t put that past her.

  “Cut it out, you crazy old cow!”

  He decided not to feed her tonight for pulling that stunt. God, he was annoyed. The old bag must have seen Anne enter the shop. Clarence padded back into the back room and opened the stairway door; he pressed his forefinger against the spot where he’d been kissed.

  The last time he’d paid a visit to the city, he purposely chose an older woman, one who had a passing resemblance to his girl. He’d called her Anne throughout the entire session. He smiled at the memory, that particular fuck had been just awesome. Clarence just knew that the real McCoy would be a hundred times better.

  He paused at the top of the stairs and gazed out of the window. Seeton was a ghost town; he couldn’t believe just how empty the place looked. The only movement he saw was Mrs. Chatsworth, who owned the general store opposite his shop. He watched her, in bemusement as she taped sheets of newspaper over her windows.

  “You daft cow,” he muttered.

  She must have misheard Anne’s instructions. Well, he wasn’t going to put her right, not on your nelly. That woman could talk for her country, if he approached her, he’d get nothing done. As soon as he’d sort out his annoying mother and had something to eat, Clarence intended to retire to his own bedroom, strip naked and fantasise about Anne for an hour or two.

  Clarence then clocked even more movement, this time coming from the graveyard, just behind the church. There was too much distance for him to see clearly, but from what he could work out; Clarence guessed that it must have been a group of older kids messing about. He sighed, they’d been told before about hanging around in there. By how they were acting, the little beggars were pissed out of their heads. No doubt acquired from that Tom Maryland. It was an open secret that the man had a homemade still in his cellar. Another reason why Clarence hated the bastard, he’d never asked him if he wanted any.