“Oh shit. I dropped my garlic bread,” Hussain interrupted while we all calmed down. “Lol,” Jacob put on a strange voice to say. “Oh well. It's not the end of the world.”
“I cannot wait for tomorrow,” Hussain said.
“Where are you going?” Asked Thomas.
“He's going football,” Jake said in a funny voice quickly, imitating his foreign accent. “In Sheldon Country Park.”
“Yeah, in Sheldon Country Park,” Jacob repeated.
“Playing football on Sheldon Country Park,” Mason joked. I could hear Thomas laugh in the background.
“I can't wait for Tuesday. To-get-geared-up-and-mobilise,” James mimicked their voices.
“Lol,” Mason laughed.
“Haha!” Thomas emphatically shouted far away from his microphone.
“I’m watching pop factor now,” said Hussain.
“Who’s winning?” James asked.
“Who actually cares?” Mason dismissed him.
“Ye same,” said Jake.
“What's Blake doing?” James asked.
“I don't know, he just disappeared,” informed Jake.
“I'm here,” I told them. I’d continued searching the web for stories. I didn't really interact with them often, they were like children, messing around and having a bit of fun at each other’s expense. In reality, we all had to grow up quick.
“Thomas where the fuck are you!? I'll knock you out tomorrow, blud,” shouted Hussain out of nowhere.
“He might be doing his girl,” said Mason.
“In London. With a coffee cup,” James added thinking he was funny.
“Probably true,” I said with a sly smile.
“I could be right I could be wrong,” James told us sarcastically. The light on the landing switched off then, and I realised how dark it was now around me. I thought I heard my dad coming up the stairs then, to tell me about his job or his football team, just as the sound of Arabic filled the speaker phone. It was Hussain singing, and it sounded awful, but over the preaching of his holy book came an even worse sound, it was Thomas’s mum, screeching in her home.
“Oh my life, is that your mum Thomas?” Mason said, readying to rip into him.
“Yeah, my brothers ate all the chocolate,” he said. Jake, Jacob and James mocked him.
“You fat cunt!” Thomas then exploded down the phone. It was directed at his younger brother, launching them all into quiet uncontrollable laughter.
“She's shouting at him. Haha,” said Jacob.
“That's harsh,” James conceded.
“No, we bought them yesterday,” Thomas said trying to justify. “Fat bastard ate them all in one night.”
“Your mom's savage,” Jake said.
“Nah my mom hates us,” he told us.
“Oh, so you're a mistake. Join the club,” Jake said as a joke.
“You know what they say. There's no mistakes. Only happy little accidents,” I joked.
“And then there's Hussain,” interjected James.
“And then there's Hussain,” Jake lambasted.
“What, you mean sex on legs?” Mason said jokingly. It was his nickname for Hussain.
“You’re a dog mate,” Hussain insulted him.
“You're a pig,” Thomas said. “Thomas you are a pig,” Hussain responded, at this point I thought about putting them on mute.
“Yeah, Thomas you're a pink pig,” Mason echoed him in delight.
“Bringing race into this?” James asked.
“Well, you're Peppa pig Mason,” said Hussain. Another Hussainism.
“I’m daddy pig motherfucker,” Mason revelled.
“Nah, nah you’re that Disney elephant,” said Thomas.
“Dumbo the retarded elephant?” Jake burst into the argument with glee.
“You’re gonna be the next story in Balamory soon,” Jacob said.
“Love it. Using kids shows to insult each other,” I said, my childish smile still etched across my face.
“How's that even escalated that far?” Said Jacob.
“I don't know, he started it,” Thomas mumbled.
“Well, I think it's time to go,” I told them.
“Yeah, it's probably for the best,” Jake said.
“Real quick question Hussain,” Mason said just before they left. “Do they like, chat shit about gays in the mosque? I feel like they chat shit and you just sit in the corner nodding your head.”
Wow, I thought to myself. He really had a chip on his shoulders. I didn't know it was this bad.
“No,” Hussain instinctively replied.
“And then you come back here being like hey guys.”
“He fully does,” Jacob butted in.
“Do they know you have a gay friend?” Mason said, of Jake, who was ominously silent in the background of the call. We all knew Hussain came from a highly strict religious family, asking such questions was bound to stir trouble.
“If they knew, would they kick you out?” Asked Mason, as I heard the silent joy in his voice. Mason tried as ever to get a reaction from him. He was always doing this, it made me feel for Hussain, perhaps not singing his prayers down the call earlier would help him to avoid this abuse. I messaged him privately in that moment and told him to be quiet.
“I dunno,” he then said, ignoring my advice.
“You should know,” Mason said.
“I dunno,” the lad repeated absentmindedly.
“Yes, you do,” Mason said goadingly. Living in a poor environment with little care or respect for others makes you into Mason I suppose. I was bullied in primary school, and at this point I’d had enough.
“Mason shut the fuck up now, no one’s laughing, no one thinks your funny, drop it.”
There was silence for a moment, until he spoke again.
“Ok then. Get some beauty sleep, it's going to be a big day tomorrow.”
“Alright. I'm going. See you losers tomorrow!” James announced down the phone.
“Alright mate. I'll see ya tomorrow,” Thomas said.
“Alright see you tomorrow,” Jacob said, as Mason hung up without saying goodbye.
I enjoyed chatting with the lads, as rude and racist as some of them were. They were just ignorant, they hadn’t been taught right from wrong as kids, and I didn’t dislike them because of that.
A few moments later, after the pings and notifications of them leaving, I asked if anyone else was here, as I was far away from my phone. It was over by my bedside light, away from my desk, where I scrolled the web.
“Hey,” the voice of Jake said. I smiled as my oldest friend spoke.
“So, Jake. It's just you and me now,” I said, as I came to the celebrity news page.
“Yup,” I heard him say as he downed a drink.
“You sound like you're overdosing,” I joked with him.
“Oh, I wish,” he said. “I'm probably gonna go to bed now, I’m tired.” I looked outside my window and found the blue, grey and red dimming sky.
“Yeah same. Ok safe mate,” I said.
“See ya,” he said, as he was cut off by leaving early. I couldn't be bothered to get up and leave myself, so I just stayed in the call alone and drifted off to sleep.
I received a message from my phone a couple minutes later. It was Jacob. That was peculiar, because I never received direct messages from Jacob. I slovenly reached over and found my phone.
“Blake it’s not a regular call up,” the white text read.
“What?” I tapped to type quickly.
“Have you seen the news?” He responded in a flash.
“What do you mean?”
“The accidents, the coughing man?”
“Yes, I've seen,” I said. “I just thought it was some mental case.”
“That's why we're being called. It's a virus. They say London's got it worst.”
“You're just paranoid man. Nothing's wrong.” Then after that, I didn't receive a response from him, not until a few nail biting minutes later.
<
br /> “I hope it ur right,” it read, then followed quickly by. “Typo.”
“Ye I figured,” I typed. “Don't sweat it mate.”
“Ok. I'll see you Tuesday.”
“Ok bro. See you then.” I turned off my laptop and lay on my bed, as my cat leaped down off the window ledge and onto my rising chest and I slept until the next day.
The Text - Day 3 - Blake
I woke up to the tweets of the birds and the smell of bacon and eggs. It was Dad's Monday breakfast. He always did it today, to set us up for the week ahead. He was very quiet this morning, as if he was hiding something. Poor dad was always trying his hardest, sometimes I think he tries too hard.
I was out the door and away in minutes after downing it. A short twenty-minute walk across the neighbourhood to the outdoor sports centre. I looked at my phone, news articles about the virus. The boys messaged saying they were waiting for me in the parking lot. Not a lot of cars travelled on the roads today, probably heeding government advice not to.
“Don't hit it hard. Slow. Light hit for Jakey,” said Hussain as the ball fell to Jake, who passed it to James in his leather black jacket. James hit it wayward into the sky. He was the sports type, tall and handsome. I was similar but had black hair whereas he had brown. I’m not vain, but I’m not blind I always said. Me, James, Thomas and Jake were all rather athletic. We all went the local gym every Wednesday, all aside for Mason who did his own thing with his chav friends, and then there was Hussain who didn't like to exercise at all.
“Hussain!” Shouted Thomas as Hussain hit wayward into the trees. His stomach bouncing all over the place as he hit it. He was not the fit type you see.
“For fucks sake!” Mason screamed as I immediately ran to fetch the ball. As I approached, something in the trees moved and groaned with the eerie whistle of the wind. With every step I took I felt the leaves and the branches moving with me, and the nettles that hummed for my misstep drew closer. I clasped the ball with both hands and jumped away like a frog. Returning to my friends who joked and laughed.
“And again,” said Thomas before I tossed him the ball.
“To Jake,” he kicked the ball, but not to Jake, he hit it away to Hussain in an accident.
“More like to Hussain,” James sarcastically joked.
Hussain juggled the ball before volleying it carefully to Mason. “That's nice,” said Thomas.
Or it was nice, until Mason smashed it back to Hussain’s naggers from point blank range.
“Oh, that's harsh man,” Jacob said as Hussain hopped holding his privates, his face a mixture of embarrassment, joy and sadness. Jake couldn't contain himself from the bench he now sat at.
“Jacob, he deserves it!” Shouted Mason as he laughed. He then hit it miles away. Hussain chased it. “It’s like watching a Rhinoceros charge,” muttered Thomas.
“What's happening Blake is he coming or what?” Jake asked, of Michael. Michael was a strange lad. He had the whitest of hair and the bluest eyes and he was unfortunately, mentally disabled. He had shown an interest in Jake since their school days, both being gay, both living in the same town.
“I don't know,” I told him.
“Yeah, you'd like that,” mumbled Hussain, mocking Jakes choice of words.
“Erm? Was I talking to you? Fat bitch,” said Jake, just as Hussain ran to collect a loose ball.
“Ah, look at the pace on that,” said James as he licked his lips.
“Omg look in the bushes!” Shouted Jake from behind me. I turned around and found Mason, Jake and Thomas glaring at a figure in the woods. Their face covered by leaves, they wore dirtied jeans and muddy shoes.
“What the fuck,” said Mason aloud. “Hahaha.”
“Ok I'm leaving now,” Jake sounded, collecting his coat over the sound of Hussain laughing.
“C'mon then!” Mason goaded in a Scottish accent to the mysterious figure. A chill ran up my spine as I saw the figure holding a large branch in their hand. It was so creepy. How long had they been watching us?
Soon enough, the man hiding in the bushes came out as I and James walked up to them. James kicked the football at him, revealing the figure to be Michael.
“How you been Mike?” Said James.
“Mo’s here!” Then shouted Jake. It was Mohammed, our old friend from school. Glasses and all. He wasn't in the army, but he was a good friend of ours. I’d almost forgotten they’d invited him.
“How you doing Mo?” I asked him. He wore black glasses and was short in stature.
“I’m good. Hey, big man’s here,” he said pointing to Hussain and his belly.
“Your mums here,” replied Hussain frustratedly.
“Right, let's do this. Army vs non army,” said Thomas placing the ball down to the spot.
“How's that gonna work?” I asked, seeing as me, Thomas, James, Jacob, Jake, Hussain and Mason were all enrolled into the forces, but only Mo and Michael weren't. “Me, you, Hussain and Jake vs Mason, Jacob, James and the civi’s.”
“That's basically Charlie vs Delta,” I said, as in our platoon, we were Charlie and Delta of the second section.
“Let's go!” Shouted James as he ran down Jake. He won it back and squared it to Jacob on the wing.
“Raw pace,” mocked Mason as Hussain charged at him from his goal line. Yes, Hussain was in goal. Unfortunately, he scored after a low drive.
“Yay!” Shouted Mason in a weird feminine voice, as I looked up to the sky and saw the night coming.
“Hussain why are you in goal anyway,” asked Thomas.
“Cause he's shit,” Jake said, as if it was a formality that if you were shit you go in goal. My phone lit up in a blaze with texts and messages from my Mom and Dad, even Jess messaged me like five times and she never messaged me.
“Blake I need you right now,” the text from Mom read. Then Dads added more clarity. “Son, there's been an accident with your mother, can you come home as soon as possible please, thanks.” What could have happened I thought.
“Who’s he texting man?” Asked Hussain.
“Hussain he's texting your mum,” said Jacob.
“Your mum's texting me mate,” he replied back.
“I can outpace you. Like everyone here. I just can't handle the bounce.”
I looked at my watch, it read 6:15. Then I looked at the lads again. “Listen I’ve gotta go, I’ll see you tomorrow at base,”
“Blake you ok. You were on your phone all day,” inquired Thomas. There was a police siren whirring in the background.
“Yeah, I'm good,” I said, before packing my things and leaving into the night
First Contact - Day 3 - Sarah
Filing for my boss, keeping him in the know and clued into all his clients. It was a thankless task with Damien. He had the top job, executive accountant of Yellow Sky Accountants. He works in his office, his feet up with the sports channel on 24/7, meanwhile, there’s me, Sarah, four floors down, a lowly receptionist. Still here I was, working a proper job while my husband slaves in a factory producing laptops. It makes him sound almost respectable, but it wasn't. All he did was press a button all day, while I on the other hand, or foot, wore stilettos all day at the front desk. The health implications you might be wondering, well? I’m 41, yet they insist I wear them, the dress code for the company was all wrong. Skin tight dresses, on me? Bog off. It should be illegal to impose such things on people.
It's all well and good for the young and plucky Kelly to wear them, my co receptionist, she looks great in them, but little old Sarah? No. Kelly was young and pretty and I’m not ashamed to say it kinda pissed me off, especially how she acted with clients. All suggestive and flirtatious. Was that jealousy on my part? Like wicked witch jealousy? Nah, more like annoyance.
It was the 3rd of October, and yet again she was flaunting her looks at the reception desk. “I think I may have backed into that small little mini over there,” the rich businessman said to her. All suited up with a red tie and a pair of shades, in October!? An
yway.
“Oh no,” Kelly said, before biting her lip. Yawn. I’d seen them eyeing themselves up in the car park. He was in his car watching her little bimbo bum walk in, that sly look to the side, dropping her phone, ha! We all know it darling.
“That's my car, well you better want my number,” she said.
“Certainly,” he spoke, his voice velvety and rich. Bitch, I thought to myself. Right in front of my face. “Kelly, shouldn't you be sorting emails?” I said to her. She whipped her straight black hair around as I caught whiff of her awful perfume.
“It's alright babes, I got this one,” she winked at me. I exhaled with a half laugh, half annoyed.
“There you go,” she said, before mouthing, “call me,” with a phone gesture. Before he left, he flashed a dazzling smile, then came back to ask what room Damien was in.
“Where is Mr. Pharbick, what floor?” He asked.
“Erm,” uttered Kelly as she looked to her computer desk.
“He's on the top floor, floor four, his office is on the end at the left, it should say his name on the door,” I said with a reassuring smile. “Thank you,” he nodded and gave Kelly a subtle look of intent.
“Why do you have to steal my thunder like that Sarah?” She asked as he left.
“I’m just helping the gentleman out,” I said as she returned to her work. I read countless emails from Webster. The company we were merging with in Coventry, it was another accountant’s company. The merger is supposed to save them, but Damien wants to close them down for good secretly, take all their employees and rebrand.
“I hope he's a gentleman,” Kelly said quietly.
I received a text from Jess then, she was on her way with her dad to pick me up. Apparently, he was attacking her again. After a while the clock on my desktop read 4:50, that means ten minutes until closing time, until I get to beat the crap out of my stupid husband again. I looked at the birds outside and the sliding glass doors of the building. I wanted to go home, to my children, to my bed, and to catch up TV Westenders. Oh yes, telly it was for me tonight with a nice takeaway.
World Down: A Zombie Novel Page 4