Ellen frowned and glanced at the building. “What is the point? I don’t need to know how to shoot a gun.”
“Like fuck you don’t,” said Marla, adjusting her backpack. “Just stop huffing and follow me.”
Scuffing her trainers in the grit path, the younger girl followed her sister up to the heavy black door and inside the building.
“Hey, Joe,” Marla called out as they approached a young-looking guy sitting behind a desk.
“Hello, Marla,” he replied with a big smile, “the usual?”
“Yep, you know my lucky number.”
Joe’s eyes lit up as he clapped sight of Ellen. “So, who’s your friend?”
Marla grinned. “This is my sister, so eyes off!”
“Okay, ma’am,” the guy replied while Ellen rolled her eyes and backed away towards the shooting area.
Marla picked up the two handguns and some bullets, and headed after her sister, calling out, “Thanks, Joe,” as she went.
He nodded and went back to reading his magazine.
“Which one?” asked Ellen.
“Number eight, of course.”
“Lucky eight!”
“Yep, the symbol of infinity,” Marla replied.
“This place makes me think of Dad,” Ellen remarked as they reached the shooting booth. She glanced at the figure of the target in the distance. “It makes me kind of sad.”
Marla handed her sister one of the guns. “Here. I think the last time you came here was with him. That was a long time ago.”
“Yeah,” said Ellen, turning the cold steel over in her hands, “and I hated it then too.”
“Just humour me. Do this and I’ll never nag you about it ever again.”
“You know I’m gonna hold you to that, don’t you?”
“I don’t doubt it,” Marla replied. “Come on, put on your ear protectors and show me what you can do. I want to see if you remember what Dad taught you.”
Rolling her eyes, Ellen did as she was told and took the position in front of the target. She focused her perfect vision on it and raised the gun. The recoil made her jump and the shot went wide.
Marla sighed. “Thought as much.”
Ellen pouted. “Come on, it was about ten years ago!”
“I was hoping it might be like riding a bike. You know, how you never forget.”
“Yeah, well, that was wishful thinking cos I’m crap. I can’t shoot to save my life.”
Marla bit her tongue while a few images sped through her mind at her sister’s words. “My aim is to help you save your life, if you need to.”
“Uh huh, okay,” Ellen replied, giggling. She then noticed the expression on her sister’s face was steely serious. The corners of her mouth stayed in the downward position. “Marl, you’re not joking?”
Marla shook her head. “I wanted to tell you something, and now is as good a time as any. I’ve started having the same dream as you.”
Ellen lowered the gun and spun around, her eyes wide. “Now you’re kidding?”
“Nope,” Marla replied, “and it scares the shit out of me. All of these people, and now me and you, having the same dream, well, wow, it makes no sense to me, and I get the feeling that something is coming, and I’m going to feel a hell of a lot better if you learn how to shoot that thing.”
Ellen glanced from her sister to the gun in her hand and back, her eyes as wide as saucers. “I’m glad you believe me now,” she said softly. “Remind me how to use this thing.”
“Good girl,” Marla replied with a grin. “Now, hold it steady, just like this…”
Thursday, 16
“I’ve got the stuff for you,” said Tommy, “and I got the bank transfer, so we’re good. When do you wanna pick it up?”
“Tomorrow,” replied Marla, clutching her mobile to her ear. “Is that alright with you?”
“Yeah, no problem. I’ll put some cool ones in the fridge.”
“Later, Tommy.”
“You take care, girl.”
“You know I always do, cos someone’s gotta,” Marla replied with a laugh, before hanging up.
Walking into the lounge, she picked up the remote and flicked through the channels. It was getting worse. More people were experiencing the same dream and it was exactly the same for everyone. Doctors were explaining it as some kind of stress-related mass hysteria. Religious groups were expressing concerns, with some extremists even predicting the end of the world or the second coming of Christ, whichever idea took their fancy. Meanwhile, the scientist who had experienced the dream in the first place, or rather the first to say so in the media, had formed a support group, which now had thousands of members. Whatever it was, it was spreading.
“Mass hysteria?” repeated Marla softly as she turned off the television. “Mass something.”
“Everything okay?” asked Peter, walking into the room.
“Yeah, I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, standing up.
“You seemed engrossed in the news.”
“It’s weird.”
“Just some crazy talk,” he replied. “You want a brew?”
“Yeah, tea for me,” Marla said, following Peter into the kitchen. “Don’t you think it’s strange what’s going on – all these dreams and stuff?”
He shook his head. “Not really. There’s always something; always some crazy person starting, you know. There’s always gotta be something to worry about and get the people worked up.”
Marla bit her lip. She had not mentioned her nightmares to Peter and she never intended to. “I’m thinking the government is up to something, that there’s…”
Peter laughed. “You mean some kind of cover-up?”
“Yeah, why not? Maybe they paid this scientist guy to start this thing, thinking people would believe him cos he won the Nobel Prize. And maybe these dreams are being caused by something that everyone has in common. Maybe it’s something in the food or water?”
Peter turned and stared at her with a spoon raised in mid air. “So you think they are drugging us?”
Marla shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Well, maybe it’s to get the public’s attention away from something. Maybe the economy is about to collapse or maybe the prime minister wants us to join the war in…”
“Or maybe everyone’s imaginations are working overtime,” Peter scoffed as he turned to pour hot water into the two waiting mugs. “You want it strong or weak?”
“Medium,” Marla replied, wondering how it was that he never managed to remember how she liked it. “As always.”
“Yeah, well, you’re always so fussy about it…”
Marla rolled her eyes. “As if, Peter. I like the same old tea and coffee, medium brewed, as I always did. What’s got into you lately?”
“Nothing, but seriously, quit with this government conspiracy shit, can you?”
“Why? What’s the big deal?”
“Because I had enough of it after you left the army,” he said, picking up his cup of coffee and striding into the lounge.
Marla stared at the dragonfly mug that remained sitting on the side. He hadn’t even passed it to her. When did things change? With a sigh, she picked it up by the handle, feeling the familiar warmth travel towards her fingertips. In that moment she realised there was zero point in trying anymore – something so simple had accentuated all the big issues; the things that had long been wrong.
Turning, Marla walked out into the lounge and carried on walking towards the bedroom. Setting down her drink on the bedside table, she lay back on the bed, stretched out her limbs and closed her eyes against the tide. Life used to be so simple. The army had rules and decision making was limited. In a way she missed it. The future suddenly seemed to be slipping away and Marla felt that she was wading through mud; the slippery kind.
Friday, 17
Hurrying down the steps from her flat, Marla adjusted her purple bag and opened the heavy door of the build
ing. Daylight blazed in her face, as though checking her level of consciousness. She crossed the street and walked the length of the road towards the bus stop. One or two cars passed by, and a young boy walking his Alsation dog. A slight breeze hovered in the air and Marla was glad to have brought her denim shirt with her. Draping it across her bag, she checked her wallet and counted out enough money for a one-way trip on the bus before it turned up. Hopping on, she paid the driver her fare, receiving a smile in return. As the vehicle started forward, she moved towards the back and took a seat on the right-hand side.
The streets seemed relatively quiet for the time of day. A few pedestrians walked here and there, and some cars motored by, along with the odd lorry, but Marla found it unusually calm. She stared out at the passing trees, focusing at a point beyond them as she lost herself in her thoughts, until the scenery blurred into a grey-green haze. After forty three minutes the bus stopped at Hale Gardens outside a car dealership. Waking from her reverie, Marla grabbed her bag and shirt, ran to the exit and stepped off the bus. “Cheers!” she called out to the driver.
As the vehicle roared off, Marla strode in the opposite direction and up to the automatic glass doors of Tommy Armstrong’s Cars. As she walked inside a rush from the cool air con greeted her, along with a heady mix of petrol and leather. Passing by the top-range hot rods, she moved through the lesser spotted ones until she reached the counter. “Tommy around?” she asked the young guy who was sitting there fiddling with his mobile phone.
“Yeah,” he replied, looking up. “He’s out back. Who are you?”
“Marla. He’s expecting me.”
“Okey-dokey. Hang on a sec and I’ll go get him,” the guy replied. “If any customers come in…”
“I’ll ask them to wait,” Marla finished with a chuckle.
The youngster caught her grin and flashed a toothy smile before heading out the blue-painted door behind him.
“Tommy, you’re doing well for yourself,” she mumbled to herself as she glanced around. The floor shone as brightly as the new cars, cast in the yellowy glow of the summer sun.
“Hey!”
Marla spun around to see a familiar face. “Hey, yourself!”
“It’s been a while,” said Tommy, embracing his friend in a big bear hug. “Follow me out back,” he added, brushing his long brown hair out of his face.
Marla smiled to herself. The man still never tied it back. Since leaving the army, he had just let it grow and she guessed it was some kind of rebellion. Although the guy had to be pushing forty now, he acted a decade younger, and he kept himself fit. Women had always imagined him to be younger than he was and he never corrected them.
“So, how you been?” asked Tommy, his blue eyes shining. “Beer?”
“Sure, I can have just one cos I’ll be driving, of course.”
“Of course,” he replied, taking two beers out of the cooler under the table.
“Thanks,” said Marla, sitting down on one of the stools. “This is like a makeshift bar, Tommy style.”
“Did you expect anything different?”
“No,” she replied with a laugh. “Not really! Cheers!”
They clinked cans and gulped their beers, before sighing at the same time. “Good?” asked Tommy, raising an eyebrow.
“Very good!” said Marla. “Just what the doctor ordered!”
“Wise doctor.”
“So, this place is nice. You’re doing okay for yourself.”
Tommy grinned. “But you’ve been here before…”
“Not for a long time. Years. Last time I came here, you were still with Hanna and you hadn’t been here long.”
“Ah, the wife! Oh, yes, joyous. Thanks for reminding me,” said Tommy, pulling a face. “And there was me thinking I’d missed you for a second there.”
“Yeah, that’s cute,” Marla replied, laughing. “It was me she hated.”
Tommy grinned. “Well, she detested me too – at least after a while.”
“You know, I don’t think it’s natural.”
“What?”
“Marriage.”
“Why not?”
“You spend too much time together and there are too many rules. It’s like being in the…”
“Army!” finished Tommy, laughing. “Never a truer word was said. So how’s Peter?”
“Ah, let’s not go there.”
“It’s that good then?”
Marla nodded. “It’s that good!”
Tommy sighed. “Sorry, Marla, I really thought you guys would work.”
“Yeah, well, I guess that’s what I get for stealing a good mate of yours!”
“Huh, you did me a favour. He wasn’t so great…”
“You could have told me…”
“But where would be the fun in that?”
“Tommy, I could kill you sometimes…”
“Yeah, that’s what the wife used to say!” he joked, almost spilling his beer. He took another swig of it. “But, anyway, what’s really got you worried?”
Marla’s expression sobered up and she took a sip of her drink. “Dreams.”
“Of what?”
“You know that guy who was on TV, saying he’d had dreams of zombies and that it was a warning of things to come?”
Tommy spluttered his beer as he laughed. “Yeah, so?”
“So, I’ve been having the same dream and so has Ellen.”
“Yeah, yeah, funny...”
“No, I’m serious.”
“So, you got so shitted up about flesh-eating zombies that you asked me to get you a bunch of guns and some tank of a car?” he asked, laughing again.
Marla slapped his leg. “Tommy, one day…”
“Yeah, you’re gonna kill me. But, seriously, you’re scared of the ahhhhh urrrrrr ahhhhh guys that you watch on films, chasing people through supermarkets and making mincemeat of them?”
“Yep, that’s me,” said Marla. “I’ve joined the crazy brigade.”
“Well, I would never have thought it. When you want to give me my real friend back…”
Marla rested her beer can on the table. “Seriously, Tommy, there’s something going on. I can feel it. The nightmare seems really real and I can’t wake. I’ve been having it for a week. Ellen had it first and I laughed, just like you are. But I can’t laugh about it now cos it’s scaring the crap out of me…”
“Zombies!” muttered Tommy, chuckling again.
“Ha, ha! Well, I think it’s some government conspiracy thing. I told Peter I think something is going on. Look, I even took Ellen to the shooting range and taught her how to use a gun. That’s how serious I am. Something is happening. You see these governments cracking down on people in other countries. Who says it will never happen here?”
Tommy rested his can on his knee. “You’re talking secret police and shit?”
“Yeah, so who is to say it can’t happen here? Who guessed the extermination of the Jews would happen?”
“But that’s not…”
“Not yet. I think the government is drugging people. Either food or it’s in the water. Water would be the easiest thing. You know, people are having this dream…”
“But what would be the point?” asked Tommy. “You’re not making any sense.”
Marla glanced down. “I know. But I’m looking for an answer cos it doesn’t make sense to me either. I agree with you. But there has to be something or someone behind it, and I want to be prepared.”
“That’s the army in you talking…”
“Maybe, but that was half of my life. Of course it’s still in me.”
“So what are you going to do?” asked Tommy, finishing his beer. “Another one?”
Marla shook her head before taking a swig of her drink. “I don’t know. Wait, I guess. I just don’t want to be taken by surprise. I’ve had enough of those.”
“I hear you there.”
“So, what about you?” she asked.
“What about me?”
Marla tutted.
“I want you to be prepared. You’re a good friend of mine... or you were in the past. I’d hate to see something happen.”
Tommy laughed. “You’re scaring me, Marla. You’re not yourself, you know. I haven’t seen you in a while, but you’ve never been the paranoid…”
“I am not paranoid and I’m just the same as I always was. Just get some protection.”
“I have loads of that,” Tommy replied. “I can assure you there’s nothing for you to worry about there. And I’ve got my dog.”
“Ah, yeah, that old thing…”
“He’s not so old…”
Marla laughed. “He was losing his hair when I last saw him…”
Fleas…”
“Ah, so he’s sorted now then?”
Tommy laughed. “Yep, he’s as strong and healthy as his old man.”
“And just as cheeky?”
“You bet. Okay, you wanna check out your purchases?” asked Tommy with a wink.
“Sure do,” said Marla, finishing her beer. “Lead the way.”
Getting up, she followed Tommy back out through the blue door and then he opened a green side door. He led the way up a green-carpeted narrow staircase, past blue-painted walls, and towards the lounge. “Take a seat,” he said, pushing the wooden door open and pointing to a brown couch inside. “I’ll just get them.”
Marla took her place on the sofa, which sank a little more than she was expecting, and glanced around. On the mantelpiece was a photo of Tommy with his ex-wife and young son. The boy must have been about five in the photograph, she guessed. Tommy was dressed in his army fatigues and the group looked happy. Marla glanced round as the man himself entered the room carrying a black rucksack. Sitting down beside her, he set it down on the floor and pulled out the contents. “Here you have a Glock 17, just like the one you have. Short recoil, polymer, non-slip grip, 50m range, magazines have seventeen rounds…”
She raised her eyebrows and smirked.
“Yeah, well, I forget you know, and 9mm Parabellum cartridges. Shed loads. I picked up another Glock, same as yours, just in case you lose yours.”
“Funny!”
“And I got two of these – SIG Sauer P226 Elite Dark with attached streamlight.”
I Dream of Zombies Page 3