“Nice.”
“I thought so. And, finally, I got two of these babies, but there’s one here for you. A Remington 870 pump-action shotgun – solid steel with 18.5 inch barrels, but, yeah, you know the score, and shed loads of ammo.”
“This is great, Tommy, but how did you…”
He shook his head. “Don’t ask.”
“This is just what I need.”
“Like I said before, it should help with the invasion you’re expecting.”
Marla grinned. “Funny boy!” Zipping up the rucksack, she stood up. “Guess I’d better be going then?”
“You don’t want another drink?” he asked, brushing her arm with his own ever so slightly.
“I’ve gotta get back. Ellen is coming over after she finishes work. She’s having trouble sleeping and I said she can stay weekends.”
“So she’s stressed out too?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“That’s a shame,” said Tommy, “but, hell, you’re always welcome here. Don’t be such a stranger.”
“I know, I won’t,” Marla replied, heaving the rucksack over her shoulders.
Tommy made for the door. “Let’s go see your new wheels.”
“I can’t wait.”
“You’re gonna love it. It’s tough. Black with dark, bullet-proof windows and hardy tyres, plus a couple of spares in the back. Made for tough terrain and to last. Built like a brick shit house.”
Marla grinned. “That’s what I want.”
Friday night
“Was this really necessary?” Ellen asked Marla as they drove towards the cinema complex.
“I needed a new car. The other one was an old banger.”
“But this? It’s like a tank and so high off the road. I basically had to jump to get in.”
“You can always walk,” Marla replied.
“Yeah, right,” Ellen quipped as she stared out the window.
The sun was sinking in the sky and the clouds were darkening. The roads were buzzing with cars full of people looking forward to a long weekend, with no rain in sight.
“What did you want to watch?” asked Marla.
“Anything,” her sister replied. “I’m easy, but nothing scary.”
“So a thriller?”
“Nah, too tired for that much thinking. How about a romance?”
Marla’s thoughts switched to Peter and she frowned. “Hum…”
“Comedy then?” Ellen suggested. “That works for me.”
“Done,” said Marla, as she found a free space and parked the car. “I drove, so the popcorn’s on you.”
“I think you drew the short straw then,” said Ellen as she climbed out and slammed the door.
Marla winked. “Of course,” she answered as they headed towards the doors of Filmtastic.
Walking in, they approached the girl at the desk and found that their chosen film had already started. After Marla paid for two tickets, Ellen bought a bucket of salty popcorn and the biggest cola in the world. When they wandered into Screen 6, the adverts were luckily over and the movie titles were just going up.
“Good timing,” said Ellen as they took a couple of seats halfway up.
The girls scooped a handful of popcorn each and leaned back to watch the film. It was pretty funny and Marla found it a great escape from the worries of the previous week. When the titles went up at the end, the sisters finished what was left of the drink and headed out of their row.
“That was hilarious,” Ellen commented.
Marla nodded. “I needed that. Good idea of yours to come here.”
Her sister smiled. “And that guy was so hot!”
Marla’s eyes lit up. “I know!”
As they passed the toilets, Ellen did a reverse and strode inside with Marla following close behind. As her sister rushed into a cubicle, Marla checked her reflection in the mirror. Pushing her light brown hair behind her ears, she gazed at her face in the mirror. She looked paler and there were some dark smudges beneath her green eyes. Lack of sleep, she figured.
“Hey,” said Ellen, walking out and turning on a tap. “You look beautiful, as always.”
“Funny,” Marla replied. “You were the one who got the looks – petite and blonde. I’m just big and mousy!”
Her sister laughed as she washed her hands. “Yeah, yeah.”
As Marla reached to open the door, a girl rushed in looking as white as a sheet. She hurried towards the sink, turned on the cold tap and splashed water all over her face. Then she began to cough into the basin.
“Are you alright?” Ellen asked.
The girl turned her head and stared at them with a vacant expression, before turning back to soak her face again.
“Bad night or a dose of flu,” suggested Marla as they walked out of the toilet and into the corridor.
Ellen shrugged. “Maybe she can’t sleep either.”
Marla waved her hands in the air. “No way! We’re not thinking of that right now. Happy thoughts! The film was good and the guy was hot, remember?”
“Very hot,” said Ellen, as they turned the corner towards the escalator that would take them down to the ground floor of the building. “Ah,” she gasped as a young man walked straight into her. Raising her arms in self-defence, Ellen gasped again as the man failed to register her for a few seconds. Then he appeared to regain his senses. His face was extremely pale and dark shadows hung beneath his eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled before staggering past them.
“What’s wrong with him?” asked Ellen, rubbing her arms up and down with her hands. “Have I got my invisibility shield on again? Is there a sign on my head saying ‘Walk this way’?”
“Dunno. Something in the popcorn maybe? And you are a bit vague today!” Marla joked.
Ellen shook her head as she stepped on to the escalator. The sisters were silent for a while as they left the building and made their way across the parking lot. Halfway, they noticed a young girl leaning against a lamppost being sick while her male companion tried to hold her hair out of the way.
“Uh, what’s up with everyone tonight?” asked Ellen as she climbed into the passenger side of the jeep.
“Flu or too much alcohol,” said Marla. Fastening her seatbelt, she checked the mirror and reversed out of her parking spot, before driving out of the car park and on to the main road.
“I fancy a glass of wine,” Ellen remarked as she stared out of the side window into the darkness, lit by the yellow glow of streetlights.
“We could stop somewhere to get a bottle if you want,” Marla suggested. “No work tomorrow after all.”
Ellen grinned. “Cool. I’d like that. Maybe get some crisps or something to eat, too.”
“You mean you actually have some room after all that popcorn?”
“Of course. I’ve got Mama’s genes and no fat stays on me.”
“Yeah,” said Marla with a grimace. “And I’ve always detested you for it!”
“Ouch!”
“There’s an off-licence on the way home called Bell’s,” Marla added. “I’ll stop there.”
Ellen smiled and focused on the world outside. Cars passed by, sweeping their beams along the road, and the odd couple wandered along the pavement. After a while, Marla slowed down and parked outside an inviting looking shop. “Here we go.”
The sisters got out of the car and walked into Bell’s. They chose a bottle of rosé and one of red, and an assortment of crisps and nuts. Marla paid while Ellen packed the flimsy plastic bags with their purchases.
“Look, Marl,” said Ellen as they passed the magazines and newspapers on the way to the exit.
Marla stopped and glanced at the headline, which read ‘Mystery virus ravages town’. She did not move, but continued to read the story. “It says all these people came down with some kind of flu, but they got worse. There are about forty-seven people in hospital.”
Ellen stared at her. “Is it bird flu?”
“The article says it starts with a high temperature and
then sickness…”
“Like the girl in the cinema and that guy…”
“Coincidence,” said Marla. “The town they’re talking about is nowhere near here. It’s on the other side of London.”
Ellen nudged her. “A coincidence, like the dreams?”
“Are you going to buy that?” asked the shopkeeper. “This isn’t a library, you know.”
“No, we’re fine,” Marla replied, heading for the exit and pushing the door open.
“This isn’t a libra-a-a-ry,” Ellen mimicked when they were out of earshot. “What a rude woman.”
Marla grinned as she unlocked the car door. Her sister jumped in the passenger side and they drove off towards the flat. Both girls were silent and stared out of the front window into the darkness, perforated by yellowy streetlights. It is beginning, Marla thought, and she had the feeling that her sister was thinking the exact same thing.
Saturday, 18
Marla woke in a cold sweat, her heart pounding in her chest. She lay still on her back, panting in shallow breaths. Wiping her hair back from her face, where it had been pasted in sticky strands, she sat up, drew in her knees and rested her cheek on one hand. Next to her, Peter was sound asleep. Rising silently from the bed, Marla pulled on her pyjama bottoms and left the room. Pushing the door to, she padded barefoot into the kitchen and poured a glass of cold apple juice, which she drank while resting her back against the counter.
How much longer will I have this damn dream, she wondered, as her breathing returned to normal. Feeling no urge to go back to bed and even less to sleep, she picked up the now half-full glass and walked into the lounge. Sitting down, she turned on the television and flicked through the channels, knowing what she was looking for.
‘Streatham – 55 hospitalised with mystery virus’. Marla changed sides. ‘Tooting – 16 reported with unidentified sickness’. Again, she flicked to another. ‘Wimbledon – 88 sick in unknown outbreak’; ‘Wanstead – 23 hospitalised’. Every channel was carrying a similar newsflash. The red strips seemed to cement themselves across Marla’s vision. She turned off the set and threw the handset down on the seat beside her.
It was starting. She knew it. Taking a gulp of the juice, she tried to make sense of it all. A mystery virus: what was it, what would have caused it and what was the connection with these dreams? Was the government behind it – a war weapon gone wrong? Marla had heard of these things first hand. No, she feared it was something else.
Pushing the empty glass across the side table, she stood up and walked to the window. Making a small gap in the curtains, she stared out. The street outside was empty and silent. “What were you expecting?” she whispered to herself. Shaking her head, she let the curtain drop before wandering out of the room and towards the bathroom. The clock on the wall told her that it was 4.30 a.m. What better time to get clean, she thought. It was a good use of time.
As the warm water spilled out of the shower head over her hair and down her back, Marla tried to empty her mind of the endless circle of thoughts, but it was impossible. The same nagging doubts hammered away, and she knew it was no use trying to think about anything else. This was the now and something was coming.
***
“How come you’re up so early on a Saturday?”
Marla glanced up from the television to see Peter standing in the doorway, fully dressed. “Bad dream,” she replied.
“It’s probably from staring at that thing so long,” he remarked, crossing the room towards the kitchen. “Want a drink?”
“Yeah, a coffee would be cool. Dragonfly mug, please.”
“Since when did you switch from tea?” he asked.
“Since I didn’t want to go back to sleep!”
“Okay, okay…”
“Have you seen this stuff on the news about a virus?” Marla called out. “No one seems to know what it is, but in a lot of places across London people are being rushed into hospital with it…”
“Bird flu again maybe or some flu you can’t pronounce?”
“I don’t know,” Marla replied, getting up and heading into the kitchen. “Can you make one for Ellen? She’ll be up soon, I reckon.”
He frowned. “But it’s 6 a.m.”
“She’s not sleeping much either.”
“A sister thing.”
Marla smiled, amazed at his lack of understanding. “I guess so.”
“Hey, guys!”
“Talk of the devil,” remarked Peter, glancing around. “You know it’s good luck to turn up when people are talking about you?”
“Why?” asked Ellen, rubbing her eyes. “Nothing bad, I hope.”
Marla smiled. “Course not.”
Peter took another mug out of the cupboard. “Coffee?”
Ellen nodded, looking slightly blank.
“Got something to show you,” said Marla, nudging her sister’s arm and leading her into the lounge. “Look! It’s just like what we saw in the newspaper last night, but now it’s all over London. Different towns dotted all over. No pattern.”
Ellen pushed her hair behind her ears and sat down, gripping her hands together. “The flu thing?”
Marla nodded. “They’re saying flu or mystery virus, or unidentified illness, or summer bug. No one seems to know what it is. The government is holding a press conference and they will try to come up with a vaccine. So far there are no cases outside London.”
“Okay, Marla, now this is weird,” mumbled Ellen. “I’m scared.”
“What of?” asked Peter, walking in with three mugs, which he placed on the side table. “Zombies?”
Ellen glanced at her sister.
“Zombies, like the mad guy and his crazy dreams,” Peter repeated with a chuckle. “What an idiot. Bet he’s predicting the end of the world again.”
Ellen glanced down at her hands, which she was twisting awkwardly in her lap. Noticing, Marla stood up and picked up her mug. “Get dressed and washed,” she said to her sister, putting on a smile. “We’re going out shopping today.”
“Okay,” mumbled Ellen softly. Getting up, she walked out of the room slowly, clutching her mug tightly in both hands.
“Is she alright?” Peter enquired.
Marla raised an eyebrow. “Like you care.”
“Oh, come on…”
“Yesterday you were asking how much longer she was staying…”
“Right, so isn’t it time she went back to work?” he asked.
“She’s not feeling up to it. Can’t you can see that she’s exhausted and not herself?” Marla answered. “And she’s my sister, so she can stay as long as she likes. It’s my flat.”
Peter bristled and his face changed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged and headed towards the bedroom. “However you want to take it,” was her parting shot.
Once in the bedroom, Marla closed the door, took her huge red backpack off the top of the wardrobe and laid it on the floor. Opening various drawers, she started to sort out some clothes; enough to last a week. Once done with her underwear and socks, she pulled out some T-shirts and vests, followed by a black, zip-up hooded top. Next she checked for her passport and a few favourite items of jewellery, along with a book. She would allow herself only one.
Hunting through her drawers, Marla paused when she found her father’s silver pinkie ring. Picking it up, she placed it on her thumb and revolved it slowly, remembering, while the seconds passed. Then, turning back to the wardrobe, she pulled out a few pairs of jeans and some pyjama bottoms. Eventually, Marla pulled the top of the rucksack closed and placed it in the gap between the wardrobe and the wall, where it was not visible unless you were looking for it. She decided to sort out her toiletries and valuables later. Remembering her phone charger, she picked it up and tucked it into the top of the rucksack; her laptop she placed on the chest of drawers. Then she lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose and exhaling through her mouth in a bid to calm her nerves.
The b
edroom door opened slightly and Marla turned her eyes towards it. Peter poked his head through the gap and said, “I’m off now.”
“Okay,” she muttered, glancing up at the ceiling.
The bedroom door closed. Listening out for the sound of the front door, Marla continued to breathe slowly and evenly with her eyes shut. When the inevitable slam came, she sat up and gathered together her toiletries and everything else she would normally take on a week’s holiday. Then she placed some other items in a pile on her bed, including a favourite notebook, a couple of pens and some photographs. She had no idea why, but she took out some pictures of her family and closest friends, and placed them in an envelope to take with her. Something in the back of her mind told her that she would not be returning.
Taking a deep breath, Marla opened the door and walked out towards the second bedroom in the flat. Upon knocking, she heard Ellen call out, “Yes?”
Marla entered the room to find her sister dressed and drying her still damp hair. She sat down on the edge of the bed.
“What’s up?” asked Ellen, turning off the hairdryer.
“I have this feeling that we need to leave. I can’t really explain why, but I want you to pack your things in your backpack. Just the stuff you need…”
“Marla…”
“I’m sorry, but I’m scared. It might be nothing, yet it might be something. You know me. I don’t scare easily…”
“As in never,” Ellen agreed.
“So, pack whatever you would take to go away for a week. We can drive to your house and you can get whatever things you want. But take enough for a week and anything valuable, as if you might never go back.”
Ellen put the hairdryer down. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“You’re freaking me out.”
“I’m sorry. If I’m wrong, everything will be fine, and you can go home anyway, but…”
Ellen nodded and bit her lip. “Just in case. Okay, I trust you, Marl. I’ll do this, and I’m sure we’ll be back anyway.”
Marla smiled. “Of course we will. It’s just a precaution. So we’re going to pack our stuff, take our valuables, like this one,” she added, pointing to her father’s ring. “Then we’re going to drive to the shooting gallery and practice…”
I Dream of Zombies Page 4