As Lily and her party guests delved into the cake like tiny savages, I went upstairs to check up on Jessica. She was the middle child, born between Blake and Lily, and she never came downstairs when people were here. I opened her room to find her lying on her bed, her laptop on. She immediately closed it and looked to me with a surprising, annoyed look. “What the hell do you want?” She asked.
“Nothing, I just came to see if you were ok,” I told her, as I moved over to her blinds that were closed. I opened them up to the blue sky, and saw something peculiar in the sky. A helicopter flying low across the houses of our small quiet neighbourhood. Don’t see that very often around here.
I walked around her bed and to the landing and door, all the while she stared at me angrily.
“It stinks in here,” I told her just before I left. “Get out!” She shouted as I shut the door loudly. Hopefully they didn't hear that downstairs.
Jess was sixteen now and she still acted like a child, but Blake, my older son, Blake made me proud. Enrolling into the territorial army at age nineteen, that took guts and sacrifice. I couldn't be prouder. I walked into his room to find the curtains open, his laptop closed and his bed made.
He had left to be with his friends in the army. He was the pride of the Lively Family when he announced his intentions. Nothing made me happier than Lily’s smile and nothing made me prouder than Blakes enrolment. They were the only things that brought happiness to my life, and knowing that made me sad, what will they think when they know what I’ve done.
I walked down the stairs to find the parents of Mandy and of Jacob at the porch. “We need to get back. Stevie’s been calling me,” said Julie, the mother. Stevie was her teenage son, a friend of Blakes from school.
“Oh, ok then. Have a nice drive,” I said as Sarah came and hugged her. “We will.”
I stood at the porch and waved them away with Sarah and Lily, and I actually remembered what a happy family was. As soon as I closed the door, I turned and saw everyone all huddled around the television, and Lily returning to her friends. In my head I thought, would they all huddle around the screen if my face was on there. When they find out what I did?
The door knocked. “Coming!” I said as they knocked again, harder. I opened it to the sunken face of my Chinese mother-in-law, Linda.
“Oh, it's you,” she said pessimistically at the sight of my tired face.
“Yes, nice to see you Linda,” I faked a smile. “Come right in,” I turned to the gathered guests. “Sarah, Linda’s here!” I shouted. She came bounding over to her mother with the happiest face I'd seen her show in years.
“Grandma!” Lily shouted, just as Jessica walked down from her room, earphones on. I resigned myself to my armchair for the rest of that day, and as the day passed, and the last guest left, Linda made for her escape. I looked to my side. The time on the landline phone read 17:00.
“A shame I couldn't see Blake, I would have slapped him silly, what with him enrolling into the army. What's the matter with the boy?” Linda said to my wife as she neared the front door.
“I’ll be sure to let him know how you feel as soon as he gets back,” I said sarcastically from my seat.
“Yes, pisspot, please do,” she scolded me, before putting on her lavish fur coat.
“Ian won't return my calls,” she then said, checking her ancient flip phone. I can't think why he would want to ignore you, I thought smugly to myself. “I suppose this is goodbye.”
“Bye, mom,” said Sarah. “Love you.”
“You too,” she then gave Lily a wicked smile. It was the first time I’d ever seen that old witch smile. A shame her face didn’t crack. A part of me wanted to rise and tell her what I thought. It would be the last chance I get before I’m locked in the nuthouse.
“Bye!” She said to them from the drive of our house. Too late now.
“Honey, Abigail is staying the night, I said it would be fine,” Sarah told me when she came back in. Great, a sleepover. About an hour later as I sat in the chair and watched catch up TV, Blake returned with his brown hair slicked back and cold takeout food in his hands for all the family, all except me that is. I didn't eat the rubbish.
“Hello Blake,” I said to him. “Hi dad,” he said, walking in, and then dropping a fresh bag of fish and chips to the kitchen table.
“I brought dinner!” He said, as Lily, Abigail and Jessica ran downstairs.
He then left them to eat and sat down in the living room beside me. I was watching a film about a man who survives prison and returns to his happy family, exonerated. It was out of some subconscious fantasy I had for clearing my name.
“How was the children’s party?” Blake asked, before whipping his new phone out.
“It was alright,” I said, as the TV showed a family singing around a campfire. As I looked on all these happy faces smiling, I couldn't help but say something.
“See, look son. A normal family. They do exist.”
He laughed sarcastically. He had a good sense of humour Blake did. His mother swung open the door to the living room.
“Go. Upstairs. I'll switch this crap off,” she said, collecting the remote in her hands. “It's not crap, it's fun. Better than the crap you watch,” I said, but she turned it off and turned housewives on.
Eventually when she left, I put the news at ten on and was greeted by a red-faced woman behind the news desk speaking in a clear and angry manner.
“The prime minister is serious, a clear message, stay inside and remain calm, a national lockdown is being considered but has not been confirmed yet,” she said. I can't be arsed to deal with a lockdown, especially now.
“One thing is certain, Halloween is cancelled,” she finished. Thank God for that, can't be bothered with kids at my door demanding sweets and chocolate. It's a pompous American thing that's been brought over to the UK and I couldn't care less.
I fell asleep in the armchair, still in the clothes I wore when I welcomed in the Meadow Family.
I woke hours later. There was a creaking on the stairs as I opened my old eyes again. I was in pitch darkness, they hadn't even left a light on for me, or they’d switched it off trying to be considerate. Sarah had done it, or Blake. But if Sarah wanted to be considerate, she could have let me sleep on the bed with her. But no, it was either on the floor, or on the chair. Enough bitching Richard, I thought.
A light shined through the front door, it was a car with its headlights on, driving recklessly in the night. Another light lit up from the stairs, a light so bright it was blinding.
A car alarm went off outside, as the family cat Al brushed past to cower behind me. At the window was a person, their face cast in shadow. The stairs creaked again, and a figure stood at the bottom of the stairs.
“Dad?” A voice whispered. It was Jessica in her pyjamas, creeping down the stairs in the dark.
“I thought you were still sleeping in the chair,” she said then walking past me. I looked to the window and found nothing, but the sound of a helicopter flew by overhead. I don't know what it was, so maybe it was better if I just forgot about it and went back to sleep.
Before the Storm - Day 2 - Blake
“Smooth West Midlands. Fun fact. Tuesday is the day when most babies are born in the week. And the song they hear in the womb has been confirmed to be the song they will remember the most. Yep. It's true. News and sport coming up next. First traffic now and Southbound the M1 near West Bromwich is chock a block heading into overnight traffic.”
“Dad can you put your foot on the pedal please I want to get back home,” I said as the car bumped along the road, but Dad wasn't having any of it. He was as he always is, boring and sarcastic.
“I can only go as fast as the traffic allows,” he said for the hundredth time this afternoon. We were on the way to pick up Mom from work. I wished I was at the base in Wolverhampton, where we’d drive off-road in the military vehicles, go wherever we wanted, whenever we wanted. It was great, squaddies in the back, rap on the radio.
Instead, right now I just had classic eighties music nonstop in my ears, every time there was an ad or news break I mentally cheered. In this car, it was just me, dad and his damn radio.
“It’s slow moving on the A38 heading into Birmingham City Centre and the routes heading into Wolverhampton and Erdington have come to a standstill. It's an absolute nightmare on the roads at the moment in the West Midlands. Luckily, we've got some crackers coming up next to fill the void. Including a certain song called, Kamelion. Stick around.”
And it looked like we would, as a long line of cars, red lights on every single one, stood fixed in our way. It was a standstill.
“What's caused all this then you reckon,” said Dad as he pointed to the traffic.
“No idea,” I answered.
Hundreds of bright red lights lay in front of us. The white lights of the hotel and the yellow lamp lights blended well. The sound of passing cars grew ever louder as they whistled by with speed. And there it was, the cheesy 80s music back on. Much to my annoyance. By the time the song had ended we had moved just three spaces forward.
“Switch on the telly and start trading. For quality trade and industry. Visit bobs workshop. Rough 80s radio.” These bloody adverts, I thought to myself. Half an hour later we arrived at the office where Mum worked.
The parking lot was empty. We heard the passing of a train near the International Station. The whistling of the birds and the sound of car beeps. Traffic was still again. A nearby four-story car park was put up like a Christmas tree. She'd been working here since last year. A new temp. I glanced over to Dad, he was sitting there, eyes closed almost meditating. Something was troubling him, more than usual.
“Welcome back,” the radio boomed. “So, James these incidents. What do you make of them?”
“Well, these people are not well, are they? Clearly!” The radio man said.
“You think?” Dad spoke angrily over the radio noise.
“Mad cow disease,” I then said jokingly, right before Mum walked through the entrance.
“Here she is,” Dad said in a patronising tone. It almost made me laugh, almost.
“Hi!” She announced herself with a joyful noise, getting in the car loudly. "Hi Blake."
“Hiya,” I said, not wanting to engage with her.
“Oh, it's cold,” she said rubbing her arms.
“Hmm, you should wear a coat,” said Dad.
“Hmm ye,” she mumbled back. We pulled out of the car park and entered the main road.
“The board are meeting tomorrow so. I had to get everything ready. Get the papers ready. Worked through my lunch breaks. But anyway, I don't want to know about work from now on.”
She smugly looked to Dad with one of them looks, the ones that only a smug ex-partner could give. But they weren't exes yet.
“How long have you been waiting for me?” She asked.
“Since five,” Dad told her.
“Oh, I'm sorry. I've been having the wrong tablets.”
I pulled out my phone and earphones at that.
“Four tablets I should taking,” she said. “I've taken one. And it's the wrong one.” We passed an emergency ambulance by the side of the road, treating a poor woman with her car smashed up.
“Driving standards are going down son,” said Dad, as Mum interrupted him. “120,000 milligrams of that medication I should have had over the past four months. And I've been taking irritable fucking bowel syndrome tablets.”
I laughed as I heard her say that, and what she followed up with.
“That's why I've not lost weight.” Dad sprung into laughter.
“Cheesecake yesterday. All that chocolate?” He said looking into his internal mirror to her, with his own smug face now.
“Piss off,” she told him, but it wasn't in an angry way. Dad looked over to me as we came to a standstill, the traffic was worse today than it ever was.
“She's got one in one hand and the tablets in the other,” he joked. “Who's had the lemon cake by the way?” He asked, knowing full well she’d had it the other day.
“Oh, that was delicious,” she said unashamedly. She sighed. “No wonder I haven't lost any right. What an absolute twat.”
I put on my music playlist and tried to drown her out. “I feel like a takeaway tonight,” I heard her say just before the music started, as Dad laughed again beside me.
“Someone broke into Hammond’s house,” I heard Dad say. “No? Really?” Mom asked.
“Yeah. Came home and all the police had all the lights on in his house,” he said. Hammond was Dad's friend from school. He was the successful one, the one that went to college and university and made a stable career for himself as a lawyer. Now my dad fed his pets while Hammond was away on trips across the country. I was jealous of him growing up, he had everything, and my dad had nothing. But Hammonds old parties were where my parents met, so I should be grateful in some strange way for him.
“So, he's asked me to watch it for him. He's going to Ibiza tomorrow.”
“Oh, my goodness,” said Mom in shock. “That's terrible, they should castrate the bastards. Serve em right, shit heads.” My Dad didn't respond to her, he’d heard it all before. She always said what was on her mind, and she never let anyone get away with stuff.
We came to another standstill in traffic. “Here, this is what it's like all the way down to the city centre,” said Dad, before he turned to me. I could sense him looking at me, as I looked to my phone which was on one percent. “Son did you ask your…”
“No,” I immediately responded. He was asking about my friends and when we were going out, something that was none of his business.
“Son,” he said.
“I said no.” I shut him down, I just wanted to listen to my phone, to my song before my battery went for good.
He turned back to Mom with an unhappy look. “See this is how he is,” he told her, gesticulating.
“Son come on,” said Mom, but I didn't care, this was the end of the song.
“He never wants to talk. And when he does, he's like this. Rude. Starting to think he doesn't appreciate me,” he said to her.
“Right,” I turned to face him. “I've only got 1 percent left on this phone and I'm trying to listen to a song before it goes. I answered your question. What do you want?”
“See this is the attitude,” he said.
“My attitude?” I began to get angry. “Your always fucking miserable. Every time I talk to you always moaning about one thing or the other.”
We stopped again and looked back to see the red glare cast on his face from the front cars stop lights. Traffic was came to a standstill.
“I just wish you'd talk,” he finally said.
It was a twenty-minute journey in the car from then on. I felt bad for the way I spoke to him for every minute of it. He was my Dad and I know he loves me, all he wanted was to know if I’d asked my friends to go out, and the irony? My phone didn't run out of battery, it stayed on 1 percent the entire drive…
We pulled up to our small house. As Mom left the car, her bag in hand, Dad said something I had been dreading for weeks.
“Son, there's a letter from Wolverhampton on the counter. I think you should read it before your mom does, yeah.”
“Ok,” I said looking to my mom fumbling around in her handbag. “You’re so tall Blake,” she said as I walked up our drive.
“Shut up,” I told her. “Just give me the keys.”
I unlocked the door and greeted the pets of the house, Al, Charles and Samantha the dog.
“Woohoo bitches!” I said as the cat and dog ran past together, right down the stairs and into the living room.
“Twatmobile is parked,” said Mom, before stroking her cat. “We're home bunnies.”
“Oh, I'm having a power drink,” I said before delving into our fridge.
“Got you some more the other day chick,” Mom said, the dog panted as she held it in her arms.
“Fuck yes.” I saw an entire row of energy dr
inks. They’d come in handy if me and the squad were going football practice tomorrow.
“Taking this and this, and this. And maybe this. There's a virus going around, so why not?” I flippantly said.
Mum just stared blankly at a still piece of paper in her frail hands.
“Ok, son, they're deploying you, on Tuesday, oh god. She almost collapsed to the kitchen floor.
“Hey it's ok,” I said, holding her steady. “You only enlisted 3 months ago. I don't understand.” She grabbed my shirt and held it tightly. “You're not going,” she then hissed angrily.
“Calm down, let me read it,” I took the paper and read its frank contents.
“It's just a routine visit, don't worry.”
“You sure?” She asked. “Yes, I'm positive. They're not going to send me away anywhere. It's the territorial army, not active duty. Probably guarding something. Training,” I said, knowing full well it was not training.
“Charles was on your bed sleeping son,” said Dad as he arrived inside. “Or so I thought he was,” he said as the ginger cat brushed against his leg.
“Right time to pick him up and throw him around!” I joked, trying to calm Mom down, but as soon as I turned away, she began hyperventilating. I looked to Dad, and he came bounding over to hold her. I couldn't bear it, my face turned to a scowl and I ran up after the ginger cat, three energy drinks in my hand. “You hear that Charles I'm coming!” My voice echoed up the stairs. As I heard my mother cry.
She was such a wuss. Crying when she should be happy. At least I was doing something with my life, what could she say she’d done. Nothing but work for this company or that company, helping make other people rich all the while she got poorer. She should be proud, but she wasn’t, she thought I was stupid, and I her.
I arrived to my room to find it as I left it. Tidy and well kept.
“Hey what's going on. What's up, did you hear me coming?” I asked the damn cat, putting him on the bed.
World Down: A Zombie Novel Page 2