I Dream of Zombies

by Johnstone, Vickie

  “Just stay safe,” Tommy replied. “Good luck to you.”

  “And you. You’re a brave man going back in there. Just don’t go too far.”

  Tommy nodded. “Thanks. We won’t.”

  The couple waved again and then the white van drove off.

  “God, it sounds worse,” said Marla. “Everything’s changing too fast. No wonder we haven’t seen anyone.”

  “They must have got most of the people out,” Ellen commented. “They must have, Marl. There were evacuations before us.”

  “But he said there’s a barricade,” Devan pointed out. “Anyone who didn’t get out won’t be able to.”

  Everyone fell quiet. Tommy started the engine and they continued down the M11. On either side were fields of green and farmland dotted with the odd small building. Shadowy figures moved in the distance, but it was impossible to tell if they were living people. Marla cracked the window to allow some fresh air into the car and gazed out. Soon they passed a small cemetery at Theydon Bois, and then it was a verdant sea again until they hit Debden and the scenery changed once more to an industrial park and stores.

  “We just hit civilisation,” Marla commented, feeling unnerved.

  “I hope we can get to the house,” said Ellen.

  “I hope so too,” Tommy replied, glancing in the rear-view mirror. Behind him the motorway stretched, empty as far as the eye could see. Eerie. Ahead, to the left, he spotted a golf club with its sprawling perfect grass and dipping bunkers, completely desolate when normally there would have been various men dressed in those crazy, loud jumpers whacking white balls. He’d always thought it a pointless game. As he stared, a couple of figures drifted into view. Before he could make them out clearly, his attention was grabbed by Devan exclaiming, “There’s smoke! Over there!”

  “It’s a building on fire,” Ellen added. “Looks big. What is it?”

  Tommy frowned. “The football ground – Tottenham Hotspur. Must be looting going on. Great, things are starting to hot up.”

  “I’m an Arsenal fan,” Devan answered.

  “Figures,” Tommy muttered under his breath. Marla glanced sideways at him and bit her lip, resisting the urge to giggle. He glanced in the mirror at Devan and replied loudly, “Really? Well, I’ve long been a Spurs man. That’s real sad to see the stadium burning. I watched many a good game there.”

  They drove along in silence after that until Tommy turned off on to the A406 North Circular. He let out a sigh of relief that it had not been sealed off. Glancing to his right he saw a sign with flashing red lights on the road: ‘The City of London is closed. Turn back.’ Marla pointed to it and no one spoke. They gazed out of the windows, deep in thought. On either side there were residential buildings now, but no vehicles passed. The road was empty. So eerie, thought Marla, as if they were in some end-of-the-world movie. She had expected to see some vehicles, but they were alone.

  Passing another flashing road sign with the same message, Tommy turned off on to Forest Road, which was the shortest route he knew of to Tottenham, but it was also a narrower road that cut through Walthamstow. The streets, which would normally be full of pedestrians going about their business, were desolate. On either side the houses seemed to sit and stare as they drove past.

  Now and then a window was boarded, leaving Marla to ponder whether there was anyone hiding inside. A huge fence encircled Thorpe Coombe Hospital and the windows of the adjoining buildings were smashed. A few doors hung off their hinges. Litter cascaded down the centre of the road where some black sacks had been ripped open, their innards strewn along the pavement. Marla wondered if it was down to foxes or people looking for food. With every shop they passed it was the same story; the windows were broken or the place had been burnt out. How had everything gone so crazy in such a short period of time?

  “Freaks,” said Tommy, cutting into Marla’s thoughts. Sitting up straight in her seat, she glanced in the direction he was pointing. There were four of them slumped on the pavement by a petrol station. As soon as they saw the car they began to rise slowly, drawn like moths to a flame. Then there were more, just walking, and they turned their faces to gaze at them; the car engine being the only sound in the silence. Litter blew past and the dead walked.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have come,” said Ellen.

  “It’s not far,” said Tommy. “The road looks clear.”

  He drove past Blackhorse Road Tube and the station was full of freaks, standing lifeless and purposeless. Tommy cursed them under his breath. Instead of pedestrians there were freaks. Every few minutes or so there were more and they appeared to move in groups, which was like a bad joke to him. He drove the car over the reservoir along Ferry Lane and glanced out over the calm water. Passing his favourite local pub, the white-painted Ferry Boat Inn, which offered a beautiful view out the back, Tommy noticed the windows were boarded up. ‘Closed’ was written on the chalkboard in the drive. A few freaks stumbled along, unbalanced and ragged. Frowning, he kept driving and within five minutes he pulled into Hale Gardens. “Home, sweet home,” he said softly with a hint of sarcasm. Marla glanced sideways at him, but she didn’t say a word.

  Tommy parked in front of the showroom and turned off the engine. Pocketing the keys, he got out of the car, followed by the others. Heading to the boot, he opened it and passed everyone their luggage before glancing around the street. It was eerily quiet, broken by the quick dash of a black cat across the road. It darted down a hole under a fence and into the garden beyond. Litter flew around, tossed in the breeze, which was starting to warm up in the approach to midday.

  Marla followed Tommy’s line of sight, but she couldn’t make out any people, living or dead. It unnerved her, this silence; it was unnatural, as though it were waiting for something.

  Ellen nudged her. “Wha–”

  “Shush,” Marla whispered and shook her head before putting her finger to her lips in a movement that reminded her sister of the kids in her class at school. It was something she was always doing to keep them quiet during morning assembly.

  Tommy made his way up to his front door. The glass doors at the front of the showroom were intact and the sign was still turned to ‘Closed’. Not that he had expected it to say anything else. Turning his key in the lock, he pushed the door open without a sound. Placing his rucksack on the floor, he gestured to the girls that he was going to check the flat when the shocking sound of barking made him jump. Tommy opened the side door and was greeted by Bob, who knocked him flat on his back.

  “Hey, boy,” he gasped, ruffling the Labrador’s ears. “You’re looking good.”

  Bob barked again and licked his owner’s face.

  “Too much noise,” Marla complained. “Can you get him to shut up?” She peered down the street nervously and clapped sight of two dead-lookers shifting into view.

  “Come on, boy, inside,” said Tommy, grabbing the dog by the collar and pushing him towards the stairs. In his excitement, Bob pounded his tail, which beat against the carpeted steps, and opened his mouth again to bark. “No!” Tommy warned in the deepest tone he could rustle up. “Quiet.”

  The dog whined and his tail sunk. Tommy squeezed past him and picked up his rucksack. Ellen followed, trailed by Devan who glanced up the staircase in curiosity.

  “Dead lookers,” whispered Marla, “across the street – two.”

  Tommy closed the door and gently lifted the letterbox to peek outside. They were at the corner of the street, five of them now, shuffling along with their faces turned the other away. The group stopped in front of the fence under which the cat had shot earlier. Holding the spring with his finger, Tommy closed the flap without a sound. “We have to be deathly quiet,” he whispered.

  “What about him?” asked Marla, nodding towards Bob.

  “Well, he’s been here all this time and must’ve barked before. Perhaps they’re not interested in dogs.” Marla scowled and he shrugged. “Okay, okay, I’ll keep him still.”

  Bob padded up the stair
s with his tail between his legs, as if he knew he was the subject of debate.

  ***

  “Okay, so I checked the phone messages and there is one from my ex, saying she and my son are going to a refugee camp in Scotland,” Tommy announced. “She said she’d heard from my parents and they are okay. The message was left three days ago.”

  “That’s great,” said Marla, smiling. “Feel better?”

  He nodded. “Although I’d feel even better if I knew they’d got there okay.”

  “Sure they have. Things were better up there than in the south. They’ve had time to get prepared, learn from our mistakes, I guess.”

  “What about you? Anything?”

  Marla shook her head. “I was hoping for an email from Mum, but the internet is down. I charged my mobile, but there is no signal. The network is definitely down, so that soldier was right about that.”

  “I’m so worried about Mum,” said Ellen. “What if...”

  “We shouldn’t think about it. Just try to stay positive. No news is often good news,” Marla replied.

  Tommy sighed. “I’m wondering if they’ve deliberately blocked the internet to stop information spreading.”

  “To prevent a mass panic, you mean?” asked Ellen.

  “Or criminal activity – gangs organising themselves. That would be easy when the country is in a state of chaos.”

  “I think that’s going to happen anyway,” said Marla.

  “I’m going to get my things together,” Tommy replied. “Help yourself to stuff in the kitchen, if anything is still okay. But try to keep the noise down and no cooking smells – that kind of thing.”

  “Can I have a shower?” asked Ellen.

  “Maybe something quieter – bath?”

  “Great,” she said, jumping up and heading towards it.

  “Should be towels and stuff in there,” added Tommy.

  “Bugsy next,” said Marla, looking up.

  Tommy glanced between Devan and the dog. “Us guys get the tail end!”

  The young man smiled back at him before returning to the television. He had the sound muted. Every channel was running the same loops. Information on the virus, how they thought it spread and the evacuations plus warnings about looting and violent behaviour. Nothing new, except they knew that if you were bitten that was it. There was nothing about the victims becoming the living dead.

  Marla headed into the kitchen, found some pasta, cheese, olives and canned tomatoes, and set about preparing something non-fragrant. Now and then she peered out the window from a distance, protected by the net curtain. The dead walked. Always alone or in small groups; sometimes there, sometimes not, but she was sure now that they would never be alone.

  After they had eaten, Marla rinsed the dishes while Ellen checked and repacked their stuff. Tommy disappeared downstairs for a while and then returned. “It’s one o’clock,” he announced, “so I figure we should get going.”

  Everyone got up reluctantly and headed for the stairs. Bob followed.

  “Are you bringing him?” asked Devan.

  “Sure thing,” Tommy replied. “There’s no way I’m leaving him again. I can’t believe they didn’t keep their promises and collect our pets. I could’ve guessed that was bullshit.”

  “What if he starts barking?” asked the lad.

  Tommy scowled. “He won’t. Anyway, what if you start screaming like a girl?” he added, raising his eyebrow.

  Devan mumbled something under his breath. “He’s joking,” Ellen whispered and the guy shook his head.

  Tommy led the way downstairs, frowning to himself. He was no longer sure he liked this guy. Surely Ellen’s taste was better than that. But kids were kids. Opening the side door, he let everyone walk into the showroom. “Stay out of view of the glass doors,” he whispered. “Jeep is over there. I thought it safer to bring it inside and I packed it with all the food we have – what hadn’t gone off – and everything else,” he added without being specific.

  Marla nodded and waited with Tommy while he locked the side door. “I’m not sure about this kid,” he told her quietly.

  “Eh, come on. He didn’t need to come, but he did. That’s something,” she replied. “He must really like Ellen.”

  Tommy made a face. “Maybe.”

  They wandered over to the jeep where Ellen was waiting with Devan. “Nice wheels,” he said, “and high.”

  Marla grinned. “Yeah, I figured the higher up the better. Big wheels make me feel safer. Put your stuff in the boot. If it doesn’t fit just shove it in the back.”

  “Come on, boy,” said Tommy, opening the back door as Bob hopped in wagging his tail excitedly, looking like he was going for a walk in the park. He stroked the dog on the head and tickled him under the chin before standing back up. “All ready?”

  Everyone nodded and got inside the vehicle. Tommy walked around to Marla’s side. “I’m going to open the doors. Drive out and I’ll close them.” He held up his gun and she nodded.

  Biting her lip, she drove toward the glass doors. When they opened she moved the vehicle out slowly, holding her breath. The sound of the engine was like the roar of an aeroplane in the stillness of the road. She waited and glanced around. In the rear-view mirror three shadows were stumbling up the street. Ahead there were more; maybe six. The clothes hung off their emaciated backs and their feet dragged as they lurched. From a distance they resembled macabre drunks with sunburn, but she knew it was blood that caked their skin.

  “Look,” whispered Ellen.

  “I know,” Marla answered, turning to look at Tommy, who was securing the glass doors. He ran quickly towards them and jumped into the jeep just as two figures came sprinting out of the house in front of them.

  “Stop!” Ellen cried as her sister made to pull away.

  Marla turned around to see two young women banging on the side window and she stopped the car. “Please! Please help us!” one shouted.

  “Let us in!” cried the other one in desperation.

  Tommy opened his door. “Either of you been bit?”

  The women shook their heads. “We saw you drive up,” the fair-haired one said. “We watched, but we were too scared to...”

  “They’re coming,” muttered the brown-haired girl, who looked to be the oldest and perhaps twenty years old. “Please just...”

  Tommy nodded to Devan, who opened his passenger door. He slid over and squashed up beside Ellen to make space. The two women squeezed in, gasping in panic. Bob licked the hand of the nearest one, which made her calm slightly. She placed her hand on his back and he panted while twisting to look at her. Marla secured the locks and drove off down the street as the dead things stumbled into the road. One lost its balance, struck by the side of the vehicle.

  “Thank you,” said the fair-haired girl. “We haven’t seen anyone in days, except those things. Our father went out and didn’t come back. And then our mother...”

  The dark-haired girl hugged her sister as tears slid down her face.

  “I’m sorry,” Ellen answered. “I’m Ellen.”

  “Joanna,” said the oldest, “and this is my sister, Angelica.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Ellen replied. “This is Devan. And this is my sister, Marla, and that’s Tommy. The dog is Bob.”

  “How come you came back here?” asked Joanna. “Everyone left.”

  “Long story,” said Ellen. “We were on a coach to a refugee camp, but we had some problems. They are waiting for us and we came back to... collect some things... and Bob.”

  “That’s so sweet you came back for the dog,” Angelica remarked, wiping her tears. “I’ve seen nothing but bad things these last few days.”

  Marla glanced at Tommy. Came back for the dog... really? He did not meet her eyes. “We’re heading back to the coach now. Is there anywhere you two need to go?” she asked.

  Joanna shook her head. “Everything we had is in that house. Can we go with you?”

  “Sure,” said Marla. “No problem.�
�

  She wanted to ask questions, but resisted, seeing as the sisters had recently lost both parents. As they drove, the dead drifted by on the pavements, almost oblivious, but then turning their heads ever so slowly, their reactions stunted. So they walk by day as well, Marla considered, although their numbers were fewer. They were not solely creatures of the dark.

  ***

  In a little over an hour they reached the place where the coach was parked, but the spot was empty. Marla stopped the jeep and thumped the steering wheel. “How could they?” she demanded. “They knew we were coming back.”

  Ellen tapped her arm. “Maybe the army forced them to go.”

  “I never trusted that soldier guy,” spat Tommy. “I have to get some air and stretch my legs.” Stepping out of the jeep, he felt the urge to shout or hit something, but he resisted it. Instead he scuffed his boots along the tarmac. A few hours. That was all. Okay, so maybe they had been gone for over three, but that was not long. He would have waited.

  The others got out of the car, followed by Bob who was wagging his tail and trying to lick the nearest hand for attention, oblivious to the tension in the air.

  “There’s something over there,” said Marla, pointing. She ran over and glanced down. There was a message on a piece of paper taped to the ground with an excessive amount of tape.

  Sorry we couldn’t wait. There were too many of the dead biters and we got scared. The army came and wanted us to leave, saying it wasn’t safe. There is a base near a village called Pewsey, which is near Salisbury, at a place called Rickslaw. It is aptly called Haven. We are going there. It’s not on a map, so remember to find Everleigh Road. Take care and good luck, Eric.

  Marla bent down and pealed the note off the tarmac. “I know where they’ve gone,” she announced, laughing. “We can find it on the map and follow.”

  “They mention creatures,” Ellen noticed, but I can’t see any. You?”

  Marla looked around and shook her head. “None. Weird.”

  “Hell,” mumbled Tommy, gesturing to the side. “Check the field!”

  The group turned to look in the direction where he was pointing and fear blurred their eyes for a second. The green space was now grey and red, rippling as far as the eye could see. A mass of bodies, all moving the same as if the field were swaying back and forth, back and forth...