The Z Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Whittington, Shaun

  I didn't respond further.

  Emma was correct what she was saying, but she came across as a little patronising and it annoyed me. I felt like she was the teacher and I was her student.

  Anyway, to my annoyance, Emma wasn't finished there, and added, “I have an idea.”

  “Oh?” I sat on the other end of the couch, trying to ignore the noises that Annie was making behind the glass door.

  Jane yawned and Emma asked Jane if she needed a lie down. Emma smiled when Jane said yes.

  “What bedroom shall I use?” asked Jane.

  “Go in the nearest room, on the right.” It was my son's room, but it had been six months since he had slept in his bed and I didn't mind.

  Jane thanked me and left Emma and I alone together.

  I waited until Jane had reached the top of the stairs, and then asked, “So what's this idea of yours?”

  “Well,” Emma released a breath out, a little reluctant to continue. “I was thinking that ... maybe...”

  “Yes?” I said with obvious impatience in my tone.

  “We could tie up that beast outside—”

  “Annie,” I snapped. She was dead, one of those things, but she was still a little girl. “Her name’s Annie.”

  “After we've tied her up,” Emma continued, ignoring the fact that I had corrected her that the dead thing had been given a name, “I want Jane to ... practice on Annie.”

  “Practice?” I wasn’t sure what Emma meant. “You mean like target practice?”

  “Well, not exactly.” Emma looked flustered and rubbed her hands over her face. “I thought that maybe Jane could stab it a few times in the chest, while it still snarled and gnashed away. Then, eventually, she could put it out of its misery by putting the knife in its head, in an area of her own choice.”

  “Are you listening to yourself? Are you serious?”

  Emma hunched her shoulders. “Why not?”

  I could understand where Emma was coming from, but Jane was only a young girl and I didn't want to see Annie get her head stabbed.

  I sat down next to Emma and my face alone must have told her that I thought it was a bad idea.

  She said, “At least think about it. If she comes face to face with one of those things and is too frightened to kill it…”

  “It's already dead—”

  “Don't be pernickety,” she huffed, and tried to continue after my interruption. “If she's too scared to kill one of those things, then she could die. Simple.”

  “She may never get into that situation,” I said. “She's with us now, isn't she?”

  “Okay.” Emma tried to think. “If anything happens to us and it's just her...”

  “Just don't worry about that now. You're thinking too much.”

  Emma shot up from the couch and her head moved quickly from side to side.

  Her reaction freaked me out and I asked her, “What is it? What did you hear?”

  She never answered, so I tried to ask her again but she shushed me.

  She walked with slow steps towards the front door. She stood a for a few seconds and then moved again, this time going into the front room, the old living room. She reached for the top window and opened it slightly.

  I walked in and now we could both hear it.

  It was an engine, and we both pulled the blinds back and peered out. We could both see a Quashqai jeep, black, and it was parked only yards from my house, to my left. Our hearts sank when four men stepped out, all carrying baseball bats.

  “Ever seen this lot before?” Emma asked in a soft voice.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Never.”

  “Neither have I, but they look like bad news.”

  “Let's go upstairs and get the attic open. I closed it yesterday. I don’t know why. It’s been open for months, and now this happens. Bloody typical.”

  Emma was the first to leave, carrying a steak knife, and I wasn't far behind.

  Whilst Emma went into my bedroom to get Jane, I went straight into my little girl's window, grabbed the metal pole with the hook that was leaning against her cupboard, and pulled the hatch open to the attic. I then grabbed the hook for the stepladders and pulled them down.

  I went over to my girl's room and peered out from the blinds and could see the men going into Carol and Jim's house, my neighbours to my left. I was certain that mine was going to be next. All men had dark features, apart from one. The other guy had ginger hair.

  Jane and Emma entered the room. Jane looked exhausted and I guessed that she was sleeping when Emma went in. Jane was the first to take the stepladders. Emma was close behind.

  As soon as the girls were in, I took one more look out. Two of the men were exiting the house and one was carrying a box and the other had two carrier bags. They were full of something, but I didn't know what. This confirmed that these guys were out on a looting expedition.

  Maybe they were nice guys, I briefly thought.

  Carol and Jim's place had been vacant for a while. Maybe if the house was occupied, they would make their apologies, leave, and try another house.

  I only thought this for a few seconds. I then began to think more realistically.

  These guys had exited their vehicle, all holding a bat each. These weren't nice guys.

  I moved away from the window and took the steps to the attic. Once I was up, Emma pulled the ladders up and closed the hatch.

  All three of us sat on the hard floor, surrounded by boxes of old DVDs, CDs, paperback books and old toys that the kids hadn't played with for years.

  “What now?” Emma asked.

  “We wait and be quiet.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jane was in the corner of the attic, whilst Emma and I were lying on our fronts. We had our ears against the hatch; our heads were cocked to one side, and we were listening out for the inevitable break-in.

  “Maybe they're not coming in,” Emma said. But as soon as those words left her mouth, we heard the front door burst open.

  “They're in,” I said to Emma in a whisper.

  “Well done, Einstein,” she snapped with sarcasm. “I have got ears, you know.”

  I looked up to the attic window/skylight and wondered if we were going to need that window to escape to the roof. I hoped not.

  We continued to listen out and heard noises and voices on the ground floor. The voices were becoming louder and I guessed correctly that they were on their way to the first floor. With their chatter, it was clear that the men were sure that the house was empty. They seemed confident and relaxed.

  Emma and I gazed at one another briefly, and then we looked over at Jane. She was sitting with her knees to her chest and had her arms wrapped around the shins. She looked scared and I really felt for the girl.

  We held our breaths as the men entered my little girl's room, the room below us, and could hear the men talking. One of the men was referred to as Hando. They talked about some of the houses they had broken into and mentioned some adversaries from the past. It was clear to Emma and myself that these guys were bad guys even before the apocalypse. They never mentioned doing time, but I guessed that these men, or at least some of them, had spent time in jail.

  The final one left the room and Emma and I remained where we were until the voices began to fade and drifted to the ground floor.

  “What now?” Emma asked me.

  I kept listening out and shook my head. I didn't know.

  Emma stood up and went over to comfort Jane. I remained where I was and Emma told Jane that we were going to stay in the attic for a while.

  I shushed her. “They haven't left yet,” I told her.

  I noticed that Emma had moved her head, suggesting that she had heard something.

  “What is it?” I asked her. Then I heard it.

  A shriek from a male could be heard outside and I guessed it came from my back garden.

  “Was that one of the men?” Emma waited for my reaction.

  “I think so.” I nodded and then I rea
lised something. It sounded like that the men had gone into my back garden and now there was screaming. Annie was in the garden.

  “Annie,” I gasped.

  “That's what I was thinking when I heard the scream.”

  “I'll go down.”

  “It's a bit soon,” said Emma. “We should wait a while.

  “I had no idea where the bravado—or stupidity, you take your pick—came from, but I ignored Emma's advice and opened the hatch anyway. She made no more noises of protest, and watched as I put the ladders down and made my way to the first floor.

  Once I was at the bottom, I whispered, “Pull the ladders up.”

  “Not a chance.” Emma peered down and shook her head, shaking those fantastic blonde curls of hers. “If you run into trouble, you'll need the ladders down to make a quicker escape.”

  “If I get chased by those guys,” I responded back, “I'm hardly going to lead them up the attic where you two are, am I? Anyway, they're gone, I—”

  My sentence was interrupted by the yells of men. It was coming from the front of the house.

  I peered out of the window and could see that three of the four men from the gang had returned to their vehicle and drove away, tyres squealing as they exited the street.

  There was a guy missing.

  The guy with ginger hair was missing.

  “What's happening?” Emma called from above. “Have they left?”

  “Only three of them have left.” I scratched at my ear lobe and wondered why the other guy hadn't left with them.

  Emma asked me again what was happening.

  “The ginger guy is missing.” I looked up at her face and explained what I thought. “I think that maybe that screaming came from the ginger guy. He was probably attacked by Annie and they've probably put him out of his misery.” I then dipped my head and said sadly, “They’ve probably killed Annie as well.”

  I ran downstairs and stopped running once I reached the bottom. I was aware that Annie may not have been dealt with and could be inside the house. The four men were walking through the house, on the ground floor, before we heard the screaming, so I assumed they had opened the patio door and stepped outside, leaving the door open.

  I was right.

  I could feel a gentle wind coming in and I stepped further into my back room. The door was open and I could see Annie sprawled out on my decking. I made small steps towards the door, aware that the ginger guy could be lurking about, as I had no idea if he was injured or dead. I could only see Annie on the decking.

  Once I reached the door, I could see that she had been stabbed a couple of times in the head. My nose winced from the smell and then I bravely stepped out. My eyes immediately went left and I could see that the ginger man was bleeding out all over my decking.

  I stepped to my left and could see that he had been given a mercy killing. His arm had been bitten, and his head had been stabbed. I had a feeling that these guys didn't shed too many tears when doing this, but it was probably for the best.

  I didn't know what to do. I didn't know whether to go back inside or try and move the bodies from the decking. Removing the ginger man was going to be a messy affair and I was reluctant to touch him.

  “Jesus!” Emma cried.

  I didn't even know she was behind me. I span round and snarled, “For fuck's sake. You scared the piss out of my bladder.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Do you really want three bodies on this decking?” I snarled at the young woman.

  “I said ... I'm sorry,” she huffed and stepped out, looking down and careful where she placed her feet. “Jesus, calm your tits.”

  I was about to snap back, but I managed to bite my tongue.

  She pointed over at the ginger fellow. “Mercy killing?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Those guys don't mess about.”

  “They certainly don't.” I gazed down and thinned my lips at the sad sight of Annie. I knew she was already dead before, but for some reason she really got to me. Maybe it's because I'm a father, or was, and she reminded me of my little girl.

  I crouched down, then knelt beside Annie and looked at her tattered clothing. The smell coming from her was horrendous. She had bruises all over her exposed legs, wearing a white and bloodied nightgown, her dirty blonde hair was over her face. I brushed her hair from her features and was in two minds whether to move her or not.

  “Leave her for now,” said Emma, as if she knew what was going through my mind.

  “Okay.” I rose slowly and was seconds from standing up straight, but then I saw a gold necklace around the dead girl's neck with a gold heart shaped pendant hanging loose by the side of her neck. I knew she wore a necklace, but the pendant could never be seen as it was always underneath the gown. I went back to my knees and placed my fingers underneath the chain and lifted it a little and had a gape at the pendant.

  “Holy shit.”

  “What is it?” Emma asked.

  “It can’t be.” I scratched my head and took another look.

  “What is it, for cunt’s sake?” Emma snarled.

  I pointed at Annie. “This is Rena's granddaughter.”

  “Who?”

  “One of my neighbours.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “I went into Rena's house and saw some photographs,” I began to explain. “This necklace is the same one in the photograph. Her mother was wearing it.”

  “Maybe it's a different necklace.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Rena lost her daughter and son-in-law, and raised her granddaughter all by herself. She must have passed on the necklace to...” I suddenly remembered her name, “... Gail.” Her name wasn't Annie at all; it was Gail. “I spoke to Rena a while ago. She told me how Gail was coping without her parents and that her mother's necklace that she was wearing when she was killed had been passed onto Gail. This must be the necklace. Rena told me that she hoped that the necklace wasn't cursed, but I laughed it off and told her that she was being silly.”

  “How did her parents die?”

  “They were hit from behind by a police car that was giving chase. Gail was unscathed, but her parents both broken their necks.”

  “Shame.”

  I sighed, “Such a sad story. But I suppose that there's many of them now.”

  “Tell me about it.” Emma cleared her throat and continued, “Before I entered your street, I passed a car at the top of the road. There was carnage inside it. Looked like a whole family had been decimated.”

  “I didn't see anything,” I scrunched my face in thought, “when we went outside to get that water from your car.”

  “This Mazda was round the corner, near the shops, out of view. It looked like it had crashed into the wall, in fact, it had crashed into the wall and the family inside were all torn up. It was horrible. I slowed down and eventually stopped to see, but it was a messy affair.”

  “Mazda?” I scratched my head and dull feeling in the pit of my stomach began to snowball. “What else did you see?”

  Emma shook her head and pushed out her bottom lip. “The usual. Blood, entrails ... I noticed on what was left of one of the bodies was a torn Batman T-shirt and...”

  I walked inside the house and Emma had stopped speaking mid-sentence. My heart was galloping and I was finding it hard to breathe. I clutched my chest and sat down.

  “Are you okay?” Emma had followed me in, shut the patio door and sat down next to me. “You look ill; you look pale.”

  “Did you get a good look at this car?”

  “Yeah, good enough. I was checking if there was anything in there like water or ... anything. I know it sounds a bit cruel, but needs must in this kind of world. I didn't stop the car and have a rummage around because there was too much ... mess, so I carried on, then bloody ended up crashing my own. Talk about Sod's Law.”

  “Did you see any...?” I couldn't find the words. My throat ached and I was beginning to feel sick.

  “Any what
?”

  “Did you see any pink clothing?”

  Emma gave me a strange look and narrowed her eyes at me. “That's a strange question.”

  “Did you?”

  “I don’t know.” She hunched her shoulders. “Maybe.”

  I dropped my head in my hands and could hear Emma bombarding me with questions on what made me ask such a thing.

  Mazda. Batman T-shirt. Pink clothing.

  I stood up on my unsteady legs, checked to see if I still had the knife in my pocket. I couldn't remember where I had left the ball hammer. The kitchen? I then made my way to the main door.

  “Where the hell are you going?” Emma cried and began to follow me.

  I never gave her an answer. I simply opened the door and ran onto my drive, turned left and sprinted up my street, passing Emma's crashed car and heading towards the shops where, according to Emma Rowley, the Mazda sat.

  I only had a few yards to go, followed the road to the right and I could now see the vehicle. It was our car. I recognised the licence plate. Even before I reached the vehicle I burst into tears.

  The driver's door was open and the smell hit me. It forced me to retch, double over, but no vomit was produced. I could see entrails on the seat, a foot, and a femur bone, some pink clothing, but nothing else. In the back was more pink clothing, a bloodied and torn Batman T-shirt, a shoe, some bones, entrails and something else that I couldn't work out that was lying on the floor of the passenger seat. A head? I don't know.

  I dropped to my knees and cried so hard that I thought my heart was going to burst. I knew it was them. It was definitely our car and when they left, Thomas was wearing grey jogging bottoms and his Batman T-shirt, and Poppy had on pink leggings and a pink My Little Pony T-shirt on.

  “My babies,” I cried, over and over again. “My poor babies.”

  I lost myself for a moment, suffocated by grief, and released a caterwaul filled with pain. A cry only a grieving father could possibly make.

  I couldn't believe it.

  I had been waiting in hope for almost six months and it was all for nothing. My family, possibly the mother-in-law as well, lay butchered in the family car, only two hundred yards away from their home, just outside their street, and had been there probably since the first weeks. All the time that I had been worried sick, fretting about their safety, their remains were rotting away in the Mazda, only a five-minute walk from our home.