by Riva, Aline
The right moment came one wintry afternoon when Carla and Archie drove up to the manor to visit. He watched from the window as Carla got out of the car wrapped up in a thick winter coat, then she went around the passenger door and opened it up, unlocked his seatbelt and Little Archie jumped down, leaving boot prints in the thin layer of snow as he laughed, wrapped up in a thick brown coat as he waved flipper hands warm in knitted gloves and jumped up and down in the snow again. She led him up steps to the front door of the manor, and as Charlie opened it, she led Archie inside quickly, keen to keep him out of the cold.
She shook snow from her hair and then she took off her coat and hung it up as Archie tugged at his coat and held out his hands. She took off his gloves, then helped him with his coat, and then Charlie told Archie there was a big Christmas tree in the front room, and Archie toddled off excitedly to take a look.
“I've got something to tell you,” Charlie said with a smile, but as he saw the worried look on her face his smile faded.
“What's wrong, Carla?” he asked as they began to slowly walk up the hallway towards the front room.
She stopped walking, worry reflecting in her gaze.
“We had a letter. We've got two weeks to get out. Carol's okay, she's got the flat above the shop - but it's going to be very crowded with me and Archie staying there too.”
He gave a sigh. A lot of people had been sent letters recently - the outbreak had left a lot of housing empty and there were new rules for outbreak survivors now: If they had set up home in an empty place and it was sufficient for their needs, if the owner was dead, they could stay, as was the case with the house Mickey and Joy lived in – they had Poppy, and Chris and River lived there too, and the owners had been confirmed dead, and as they had now lived there since Summer, in accordance with the new rules, Joy and Mickey and Chris and River got to keep the house. But in cases where homeowners had fled and had now returned, those living in their property had two weeks to get out so the survivors could claim back their home...
“We'll get another place,” Carla told him, “But people are returning all the time now and we might have to wait a while. Devan said he can get us a flat near the beach, it would be nice to be living near Sage and Bess, but Archie won't have a garden any more.”
He paused for thought. He had not expected to hear this news, but he also had news for Carla, and he hoped it would be well received...
“Come with me, let's sit down and talk,” he said, and he led her through to the front room where Archie was sitting on the floor looking up and laughing as Imp made the tinsel shimmer as he darted up to the top of the tree, looked down and chattered.
Carla sat on the sofa as Charlie sat beside her, and he paused for thought, looking to an old picture of him in younger days, with tall and handsome Brad standing next to him, two gentlemen posing proudly outside the manor house, with little Anthony beside them: Yes, he felt it in his heart, this was a good idea...
“I'm getting old, “ he told her, “But with Imp's help, I'm sure I'll live for many years to come. And the love of my life is gone, never to be replaced. And after everything I've been through this past year, it's made me think about the future. But also about the past.”
Carla sat there, looking at him with confusion in her eyes.
“That past? You mustn't keep looking back, Charlie! We all have to look forward now.”
He smiled.
“But I am,” and he paused to look over at Archie as he rolled on the carpet laughing as Imp jumped from the tree and he reached out to grab him as the Evolved scurried off, then turned back and ran up to him again. Charlie turned his head looking at Carla, and began to explain.
“I would like you and Archie to move into the manor. I have eight bedrooms here and you and Archie can have any rooms you like. And...” he paused looking again to the picture of Bradley and their late son, and that was all he needed to say the rest, feeling sure in his heart it was what Brad would have approved of, and so would Anthony.
“I don't have anyone to leave this place to when I die,” he told her, “And that's why I want to leave it to Archie. More than that, I want to marry you so I can give him my name, make him Archie Featherstone, legally adopt him as a father. I want to make sure this arrangement is solid legally in every way so no one and nothing can ever challenge it. I want Archie to inherit everything, because I want to give him all that Anthony should have had.”
Carla stared at him.
“You want to adopt him as a your son? And marry me? But I'm not your girlfriend!”
He laughed.
“No, you're not,” he replied, “I can't say I've ever wanted a girlfriend either! But now I'm alone, I think living here with my best friend would work out well. I want to officially make Archie a Featherstone.”
Carla smiled as she looked at Charlie. From the moment they had met, they had been friends. Now they were best friends, and as she thought about his offer, she nodded.
“Little Archie gets to be lord of the manor one day?”
“Yes,” he told her, “I want that little boy to have a wonderful life, Carla.”
She paused for thought.
“What would Bradley have thought about this plan?”
He looked to the old photo of him and Bradley standing outside the manor with Anthony, and as he looked back at her, he smiled.
“He would have loved it!” he assured her.
Carla called to Archie, who toddled over and stood there as Imp purred and growled as he followed him.
“We have something to tell you,” she said, and she looked at Charlie.
“You and Mummy are moving into my house,” Charlie told her, “And you're going to be Archie Featherstone. And one day when you're grown up, this big house and all this land will be yours.”
Archie gave a gasp as he opened up his tapered hands.
“All for Archie?”
“Yes, all for Archie,” Charlie said warmly, as Archie laughed and clapped his hands.
Next day, at the primary school, it was the last day of term. The kids would all be going home to look forward to Christmas and the start of a brand new year where no threat of zombie invasion lurked. The snow was melting away, helped along by a slight rise in temperature and some rain that had fallen that morning as Winter sun shone down. Now the field was full of kids laughing and playing, some were also playing on the concrete near the classrooms, as Chris put on his coat to go outside and do playground duty.
As he left the warmth of the classroom, he stepped out into a crisp mid morning where the sun had broken through as the snow began to melt and colour showed through in the world once more. He saw Mrs Hughes on the field and she smiled and gave him a wave and he waved back, recalling how she had introduced him to the new staff as Mr Page, the zombie killer! It was flattering, but he really wished she had not done that, because then the other staff started asking him, How many did you kill? How many guns have you handled? Chris had ducked out of their questioning by smiling as he said it had been a hell of a year, and now he was just glad to get back to teaching. He knew it wouldn't be long before they heard he was that guy who used to be blind who was cured when bitten by the Evolved. He didn't doubt that would spark up more questions like, What's it like to get your sight back, and How does it feel when an Evolved bites, does it hurt?
But as he stood in the playground and looked about as Mrs Hughes supervised the kids on the field, he suddenly became aware of something:
Two girls were clapping gloved hands as they did a playground chant. It used to be Oranges and Lemons. Now it was something else...
“Zombies are coming, get your guns and we're running,” they chanted.
Chris stared at the girls as the song went on about shooting zombies with guns, and bullets running out and then grabbing an axe, “Here comes the chopper to chop off its head, chip, chop,chip, chop, the last zombie's dead...”
He heard a snarl and then more monster noises as a group of boys ran to the other e
nd of the playground yelling, “Fire now, go for the head!” as they swung back with invisible guns blazing and further behind, the kids who were pretending to be zombies started to fall.
Chris shook his head, and began to walk up toward the far wall, where some more kids were playing another game. One boy went up to another and tapped his shoulder.
“Be my zombie?” he asked.
“Okay, which are you?” said his friend.
“I'll be food, you be the zombie,” he said.
Chris looked on in alarm as the boy raced off and the other ran after him, snarling, then cornering him as he reached out with hands curled claw like and pretended to strike. Chris began to walk over, unsure what to make of these games that replayed so much of what these apocalypse kids must have witnessed in the year of the zombie...
A short distance away, Angel was standing alone wrapped up against the cold as she looked to the playing field where some kids had scraped together melting snow and made snowballs. Then Archie toddled over looking small and round in his thick brown coat. He saw her standing there and hesitated, thinking about how he had seen the other kids do it. Then a boy ran past him and put his hand on a girl's shoulder.
“Be my zombie?” he asked.
“Yes!” she said, “Want me to catch you and get you?”
He laughed and nodded, then as he ran off she gave a roar and chased after him.
Archie turned back to Angel, still behind her, unsure what to say. He had always called them monsters, but he was finally remembering a new word: zombie. He reached out to Angel's shoulder. As she felt a hand touch her shoulder, she turned to see Archie's gloved flipper hand, then she turned around, smiling. Archie smiled too, then he touched the tips of his tapered hands together as he looked at her hesitantly.
“Will... will you be Archie's zombie?”
“Yes,” she said excitedly, “Want me to chase you?”
“Yes, like the zombie on the pier, when monster wanted to eat Archie!”
“Want me to eat guts guts guts?” she said with a giggle.
He laughed too as he nodded
“Yes!” he said, and Angel raised her hands and snarled loudly.
Archie ran off waving gloved flippers in the air as Angel tore after him. They ran past Chris who looked on in alarm as Archie reached the wall and turned back just as Angel pounced, pretending to claw at his belly with pretend zombie hands.
“Guts, guts guts, I'm going to eat you, Archie!”
“No, no eat Archie!” he cried.
Chris was about to step in, but then, he didn't. The kids up the other end of the playground had just run back, and they were all together and laughing now. The two boys playing zombie and victim were laughing too as the boy playing zombie helped the other child up from the ground, and as he looked to Angel and Archie, Chris got an unexpected surprise:
Angel was snarling as Archie yelled again, No eat Archie! She was poking at his belly through his coat and it tickled as he started to laugh.
“Guts, guts guts!” she growled, “I'm going to eat you, Archie!”
He laughed again.
“No eat Archie!”
She stopped being a zombie and then she laughed too.
“Not really,” she said fondly, “I wouldn't eat you, Archie!”
“Archie loves you!” he said, giving her a hug.
“I love you too,” promised Angel as she hugged him back.
Chris looked about the playground as he wondered, was this what games had become now, all about zombies and people? It was a relief to see it all ended in friendship and smiles, but as the bell rang and the classes lined up to go back inside, as he watched them file back to their classrooms, he couldn't help but think about the future and quietly worry:
After all they had witnessed in the year the zombies had risen, after seeing so much killing and horror, what of the future, years from now when these children were adults, what would they be like when they grew up?
Were these kids going to be alright?
Chapter 10
Thirteen Years Later:
The town of Wickstall on Sea had recovered well from the worldwide crisis that had seen zombies take over for twelve hellish months. But they had recovered just as the rest of the towns and cities had - there had been survivors everywhere after the end of the outbreak, many people had fled to emergency safe zones, others who had been stranded had found their own refuge. Humanity was much stronger in its will to survive than anyone bewildered in that first winter as zombies stalked the streets ever could have imagined. But that was what now defined the human race: We have survived the worse, together. And Wickstall was much like every other town, thirteen years on from what was known as Year Zombie. The outbreak had changed everything.
When law and order had been restored and the town declared open again, Wickstall had taken the same decision as many other towns, they wanted to keep the committee that had helped to hold their town together in its darkest days. And that had led to them forming their own party when it came to local elections, and they needed someone to stand for the position of local councillor to chair the committee. Devan was only too happy to step into the role, and now he was MP for Wickstall, serving only Wickstall, as the political map worldwide had made similar changes – people wanted to trust in those who had led them in Year Zombie. The ruling political party was now called The UK Survivors Group...
All of the debris left over from the outbreak was long gone. Roads and towns and cities had been cleaned up and damaged buildings repaired, or demolished and rebuilt. Every town had a memorial to their dead, and a statue honouring the unexpected blessing that had come from those dark days: The small bronze statue of an Evolved perched on a branch, and bore the same inscription on the plaque below it worldwide, simply saying, Thank you. The Evolved had saved millions of lives since they had first crawled from the bodies of their hosts. Now medical services were easy to access and cost little to run because the most serious of injury and disease was cured by the bite of the Evolved.
Bess took Fizzy to work with her every day, because if an injury to a patient was life threatening, she could cure it easily with a bite from her Evolved. She was still a paramedic, and she and Sage had spent the past thirteen years rebuilding their lives and moving on from the nightmare year of chaos, they had raised Poppy together and now Poppy was a tall, slim woman of twenty three with long dark hair and eyes that reflected the same kind of strength as her sister. And Poppy had never forgotten that year when the zombies had taken over, but mostly, she remembered the people who she had met along the way, the brave people whose courage had never been forgotten. She recalled Bonnie and how she died, and she remembered how Curtis had lost his life in that winter of death. But of all the people they remembered, Lina stayed strongly in her mind. As she had got older, she had realised what Lina had meant that day when she had been bitten, then left them after telling her she was off to kill a zombie. A few years later, Mickey had been very moved to learn that Lina's memory would always be honoured now by Poppy, who had become a qualified helicopter pilot.
Sage and Bess had briefly returned to Belwick after it was reclaimed, and found a handful of villagers also returning, but the place wasn't the same with so many familiar faces gone forever, and she had sold the family home and they had returned to Wickstall, where she used the money to set up a business with encouragement from Bess, and now there was a bowling alley on the seafront, it had been there ten years and it was owned by Sage, with investment from her business partner, Mrs Carla Featherstone.
The years had been good to them all.
River still worked as a GP at the medical centre. She had been thinking recently, they should start a family soon before they spent the best years of their lives buried in their careers, and Chris was inclined to agree, as his life had been mostly work too. His prediction about a new subject coming to schools had been correct - he still worked at the primary school, but now he was head teacher, and he also taught history -
but a new subject that had been introduced nine years before, about Year Zombie, called Outbreak History. He enjoyed telling the kids too young to remember what it was like out there on the road, fighting the hordes. He also loved to relate the tale of how the Evolved had come about, and the story of the day the bite from Truffle had restored his sight. He always liked to get the message across to the kids that just because a bad thing happened, it didn't mean there wasn't a good outcome in the end. The outbreak had cost lives, but thanks to the Evolved, the world was full of little furry miracle workers now.
And Alex still worked at EvolvedProtect, but now he was manager of the thriving farm. Nine years back, Alice had sold her place and she and Alex had bought a three bedroom house down the same street where Mickey and Joy lived. And they often came over, especially in the summer when Mickey had a barbecue and he and Alex shared beers in the garden.
By now Alex and Alice had been married for four years, and wanted to start a family. Alex needed a sperm donor. Chris had offered, and River had thought it was a great idea - until Chris had thought back to his childhood and the inherited disease that had stolen his sight. He had explained to Alex, even though the Evolved could cure the blindness with a bite, he didn't want to put their child through the distress of developing the condition in the first place, when he knew another donor would not have that issue. This had left Alex with no donor, but as they sat there in the garden, Mickey had handed him another cold beer and smiled as he sat beside him, then he said something, indicating to his lucky brick that now was now set into a low wall, supporting its broken edge. Joy had watched as they spoke together, her heart warming with love as Alex suddenly got up and so did Mickey, and the two men hugged. Now Alex and Alice had a nine year old daughter called Isabel, but everyone called her Izzy. And when friends asked who his donor had been, he always smiled and simply said, his best friend, who was also a local legend...