Blog of the Dead (Book 3): Lost (6 page)

‘You’re leaving?’ she said, her face stern. ‘You didn’t tell me you were leaving.’ She pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose as she stared at each of us in turn, settling finally on me.

‘We never got the memo that says we have to tell you what we’re doing,’ said Kay, her axe firm in her hand, despite the slight trembling in her legs.

Elaine ignored Kay and spoke directly to me. ‘You’re a small group.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I guess.’

‘Did you start off small?’

‘No. There were others, but…’

‘You need me,’ said Elaine, resting her right hand on the Mazda’s roof and tapping her long red painted nails on the metal. I tried not to let the repetitive noise annoy me as I think it was designed to do. ‘Your people died because as a team you’re sloppy. No discipline. I can teach you discipline. You saw the way I fought yesterday, right?’

Her words, however, annoyed the fuck out of me and that I couldn’t hide so easily.

‘I’m all good for swinging round on poles,’ I said dryly.

‘Swinging on poles?’ said Kay.

‘Yeah, it’s one of her zombie killing moves,’ I said. Everyone stared at Elaine and then, as if we suddenly realised we’d rather just get the fuck out of there rather than listen to any explanations from Elaine, we all turned away and burst into action, making moves to get going.

Not easily deterred, Elaine cleared her throat. ‘I used to be a pole dancer,’ she began, stopping us, ‘before the outbreak. It was the only way I could support myself after my husband… left. But, you know what? It taught me discipline. It gave me strength, core strength. Focus. It prepared me for life in the apocalypse in ways you wouldn’t even guess. I’m not suggesting you all start pole dancing, but I can – will – turn you into more efficient killers.’

‘Efficient killers?’ said Kay, stepping forwards. ‘I’ll show you what an efficient killer is…’

‘Like Sophie said…’ It was Misfit who spoke and he put an arm out to halt Kay. ‘… we’re good.’

‘If we all concentrate on at least thirty zombies a day, every day, that’s at least one-hundred and eighty zombies each day. We could probably push that up to at least two-hundred. That–’

‘Would still leave a good – what – sixty million or so zombies to get through in the UK alone,’ said Clay.

‘Don’t you realise defeatist thinking inhibits change?’ said Elaine. ‘If you as a group change your attitude and sharpen your skills, you can make a real difference. All I can say is you’re lucky you met me. And not a moment too soon.’

‘Talking about timing,’ said Kay. ‘You caught us at a bad moment – we’re leaving.’

Elaine didn’t shift from her position beside the Mazda, hand on the roof as though she owned it and was trying to decide if we were worthy of standing so close to it. ‘Then I’ll go with you,’ she said, slipping into the open passenger seat. My seat. ‘I’ll be honest with you. I’m tired of being alone. I’ve been alone for so long and… and… And I’ll sit here until you agree,’ she said out the open door.

‘Sweetie, I know you’re trying to do a good thing but…’

‘But we’re not interested,’ I said, taking the liberty of finishing Charlotte’s sentence. ‘Get out of our car.’

‘No. Not until you see sense.’

‘I don’t think it’s us that needs to be on the lookout for sense,’ I said as I stood by the passenger side door looking down at Elaine. She sat with her arms crossed and staring straight ahead.

‘Not moving.’

‘Oh this is ridiculous,’ I said and I turned on my heel and stomped off to the house.

I came up to the master bedroom to write this entry. While I was logging the morning’s events, Charlotte popped up to tell me Elaine is still in the car and that the others have given up trying to move her and are sitting downstairs in the kitchen. Nobody knows quite what to do.

11pm

We’re still in Bethersden. Elaine is no longer in the Mazda but only on the condition that we go into Ashford town centre tomorrow and meet
our
quota. Then, if we’re still not interested, we can go our separate ways. Initially we all answered with a resounding, ‘Fuck off!’ but she snatched the keys out of the ignition and stuffed them down the front of her leathers, smiling at us in a ‘What’re you going to do now?’ sort of way. No one was going in there to get them out so, instead, we argued for a while until we ran out of steam and gave in.

She’s now downstairs, on a bed she made up on the sofa.

The only reason we have agreed to Elaine’s demands and not knocked her out, fished the keys out and driven off – like Kay voted we do – is because Charlotte begged us not too.

‘She’s just lonely,’ she said.

‘And mental,’ added Kay. ‘Don’t forget mental.’

‘She just needs to feel a part of something,’ said Charlotte. ‘Part of what we have.’

Charlotte is asleep beside me. I wonder if Misfit is missing me. I also wonder if anyone else realises it’s New Year’s Eve. If they did then, like me, they obviously couldn’t be bothered to mention it. Can’t imagine why really, I mean, I for one can’t wait for another year of survival in a shitty post-apocalyptic world. Woohoo – bring it on!

January 1, 10pm

‘Happy New Year.’ Misfit whispered the words close to my ear as I poured flat, out of date supermarket brand cola into a glass in the kitchen.

‘Is it… happy, I mean?’ I said, turning my head so that our noses would have touched if he wasn’t slightly taller than me.

‘It could be.’

‘Has anyone ever said you’re overly optimistic?’ I turned so my whole body faced his, my right palm resting against the oak block work top.

‘Not a bad trait, is it?’

‘No, it isn’t, especially these days. It’s a sign you’re completely mental though.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ said Misfit, moving into me as he spoke so my left side was forced round and back, until my lower back pushed up against the work top. ‘I think it’s a sign that I can see the beauty in all situations.’

‘Guys, we’re ready to go.’ I glanced over Misfit’s shoulder to see Clay standing in the doorway. Misfit kept his eyes on me and I could feel my cheeks getting hot.

‘Just a sec,’ I said.

Clay didn’t move. ‘I think we should get going. Sooner we lose this loony the better.

I rolled my eyes. I mean, why couldn’t Clay ever give me and Misfit a break? ‘
Coming
,’ I growled and I eased myself past Misfit, my thirst for flat, stale cola forgotten.

We made the short drive to Ashford town centre. Four of us had to squish in the back because Elaine didn’t trust us enough to leave us alone in the car while she rode her Zombie Response Team Mobile, like she thought we’d scarper (as if…). Before we set off and before anyone had chance to get in the car, Clay was like, ‘I’ll sit up front with Misfit and the rest of you with the smallest butts can fit in the back.’ Only, his arse is even skinnier than mine.

I felt pushed out but I didn’t argue, especially when Kay said, ‘I’m not squeezing in the back with all you lot. I’ll drive.’ Clay looked pissed off at that and tried to argue that Kay wasn’t well enough, but she shot him down and I suppressed a smirk. And I smirked for the whole thirteen minute journey with my body pressed up against Misfit’s in the back seat. The route from Bethersden to Ashford was mostly clear. Towards the town centre, the roads leading out were gridlocked but the side leading in was mostly free of abandoned cars, apart from the occasional burnt out wreck or crashed vehicle that Kay avoided by swerving onto the pavement.

At Elaine’s request, Kay stopped the car at the side of a main road, beside a nondescript brick-built gym, and we all climbed out. I held my knife in my left hand and my claw hammer sat nestled against my side, wedged in my belt. Kay clutched her trusty axe, Clay had his spiked boxing gloves hung around his neck and Elaine carried a carving knife similar to mine in length. And, of course, the clip-clop sound on the paving stones reminded me she had her spiked heels should she fancy pole dancing for hungry zombie punters. Not really that dissimilar to her human punters, I guessed; they all wanted the same thing: a piece of her flesh. I could make a joke about the zombies wanting her for her brains, but I won’t.

We crossed the road, following Elaine, and ducked into a smaller street off the main road, between a white building with
The Lounge
painted on its side with gold paint, and a brick and glass fronted building with white functional letters informing that it is the
NHS’s Specialist Orthodontic Practice
.

I’d not been to Ashford town centre before, pre or post zombie apocalypse so I had no idea where we were heading as we trotted down the narrow street, passing small fronted shops: a music shop, a dental practice, a sewing shop, a tiny Argos, various charity shops. I had expected the high street to be bigger, like Canterbury. I wondered how it could have been big enough for its pre-apocalypse population.

Outside Caffé Nero, we ran into some of Ashford’s post-apocalypse population. A group of eight zombies were waiting for us around the corner, in a little courtyard. A few more headed our way from further up the high street, attracted, no doubt, by the sound of Elaine’s heels clip-clopping on the paving stones.

Misfit drew his hunting knife, while Clay slipped his gloves from around his neck and onto his hands. Only Charlotte approached the zombies barehanded. But I knew what damage that girl could do with those hands of hers, so I didn’t worry. We all got stuck in, Elaine whooping and hollering like Xena the Warrior Princess. I think she was enjoying it. I wondered if she was keeping a mental note of everyone’s tally; we each had a quota, after all.

Zombies dealt with we carried on further down the high street where the road widened out. To my right, I saw a glass fronted building with a sign advertising that
H&M
,
River Island
,
New Look
as well as other well known high street names could be found inside and to my left,
Park Mall
, with its sign promising ‘more stores this way’ and I thought,
Ah
,
OK
,
Ashford town centre is pretty big after all
. And it was there – that exact spot – that Elaine decided to get really
really
noisy.

There were already a few zombies milling about, but as soon as Elaine announced our arrival by yelling and slamming the blade of her knife against a lamp post (I almost expected her to say, ‘Here zombie zombies, here zombie zombies’ or ‘Roll up, roll up. Get your human meat here. Nice fresh human meat…’) zombies began coming out of the bloody woodwork. I was used to fighting for my life, killing because I had to in order to escape, to survive another day. But I wasn’t used to inviting death to come at me just for the sake of it. I watched the swelling crowd of zombies staggering from both ends of the high street and out of any stores that weren’t sealed up.

‘I think you can shut the fuck up now,’ I said to Elaine.

There were easily enough zombies to fill our thirty a day per person quota, but she didn’t stop. The CLANG CLANG of metal against metal continued as Elaine’s blade struck the lamppost, her brow set in grim determination.

‘Enough!’ I said.

Elaine glanced at me and pushed her glasses further up her nose. She then pursed her lips and she surveyed the area directly around herself as the zombie horde staggered closer. Me and Misfit stood back to back as the zombies approached. I had my knife held out before me as my head snapped left and right, wondering which zombie would be first to lunge. The zombies closed in around us as we each readied ourselves for the fight.

Movement to my left caught my eye and I turned to see Elaine dive at a lamppost and begin her odd pole dance routine, her spiked heels ramming through the brains of the front runners. I launched myself into the zombies around me, driving my blade through eyes, ears, mouths, anywhere as long as it was en route to the shrivelled brains beneath. 

Charlotte had her meat cleaver clenched in her right hand. She switched between using its blade to slice zombie brains and using her foot to kick their brains out. Clay powered through the zombies with his gloves, spikes injecting left, right… left, right… while Kay, despite not being up to full health, stormed ever forwards with each swipe of her axe.

Over the sound of slashing, slicing, jabbing and chopping, I could just about hear Elaine shouting pep talk at us, ‘Come on team, work together… Keep up the speed… tighter team, tighter… almost there now…’ and it was all I could do to prevent myself from turning my blade in her direction and slamming it between her eyes.
Deep breath
,
Sophie
, I told myself.
You can’t kill people just because they are crazy and annoying
.
Buuuuuuuuut
…

We had polished off most of the zombies, except for a few that staggered towards us from along the high street and were still far enough away not to be of any immediate threat. We stood, panting and blood spattered, surrounded by bodies of the twice dead. I glanced at Kay, worried about the effect of the physical exertion on her post-infection system. She stood firm but I could see weariness in her eyes.

‘Doesn’t it feel good,’ said Elaine, grinning. I could see dots of black blood on the lenses of her glasses. ‘It’s a sense of achievement, right?’ She pushed her glasses up her nose oblivious to the blood splatters as she beamed at us in turn.

‘It’s a pointless waste of energy and an unnecessary danger,’ I said, watching the next wave of zombies’ progress. A few more had joined the procession.

‘It’s progress,’ said Elaine. ‘It’s taking the apocalypse into our own hands. Together we could clear enough to take back more and more of the country, make it zombie free.’

‘We already tried that,’ said Kay. ‘Didn’t work.’ I knew she was referring to when some of us had tried to create a safe zone in Folkestone by putting a fence up around the town centre. And, as Kay pointed out, it didn’t work. Only me and Kay remain of the people involved in that little project.

‘You obviously didn’t try hard enough,’ said Elaine. ‘It’s the way forward. We can’t let them win. You stop now, you’ll let them win. It’ll be your fault.’

‘Whatever,’ I said, stepping over a zombie’s body to stand in front of Elaine. ‘We did what you asked. We helped bring down the zombie population of Ashford. Now we’re going to go on our way. You can find your own way back or stay here or whatever. Just, goodbye.’

‘You can’t go,’ said Elaine, her hands raised palm out towards me, her face a mask of panic.

‘We can, Crazy Lady, just watch us, like,’ said Clay.

I began to turn to head back to the car when Elaine grasped my shoulder and pulled me back. ‘Hey!’ I said, shrugging her off but she grabbed hold of my arm.

‘I need you,’ said Elaine, looking at me imploringly, like an overly attached girlfriend I’d just tried to dump.

‘You need something,’ said Kay. ‘A slap, or–’

‘Don’t go!’

‘Sweetie, you’ll be–’

‘You can’t go!’

I could see around twenty or so zombies heading up towards us from the way we came and a wave of irritation hit me. It wasn’t enough that I had a nutter hanging onto my arm, me and my friends would have to fight through a crowd of zombies to get back to our car. ‘Just fuck off, Elaine!’ I snapped and I tugged my arm free.

Faster than I could stop her, Elaine snatched the hammer from my belt. I flinched, fearing what she intended to do with it, imagining her smashing it into the side of my head. But instead she let go of me and backed up a little, holding the hammer in front of her. ‘I need you! You’ll see!’

‘Sweetie, stop!’ said Charlotte.

‘No, don’t be stupid, love,’ said Clay.

We watched opened mouthed as Elaine swung the hammer into her right knee. Wearing the leathers probably prevented her from damaging herself as much as she would have, but she still managed to smash her knee joint enough for her leg to give way beneath her. She screamed. Then, crumpled on the ground, she raised the hammer again.

‘See, I need you. You can’t leave me now!’

‘Oh god,’ said Clay. ‘Stop it! That’s enough!’

Elaine ignored him and smashed the hammer down on her knee once more, screaming as she did so.

‘Stop it! STOP!’ Charlotte dived forwards but I grabbed her elbow. I figured the crazy lady with the hammer could be capable of anything and I didn’t want my friend getting in the way of it just because she couldn’t help caring about the nutter.

‘S-see, I-I told you,’ stammered Elaine, her teeth gritted against the pain as she dropped my hammer on the paving stones. ‘I-I need… I need you.’

‘Fucking hell,’ said Misfit. And I didn’t know whether his words were the result of what he had just witnessed Elaine do to herself or if he was referring to the deluge of zombies now heading our way, attracted to Elaine’s screams.

The way back to the car had been cut off by a horde, all jostling and lumbering through the narrower part of the high street. More zombies were lurching out of shops and from side streets. Even more were staggering towards us from further up the high street, but whether it was because there were fewer zombies that way or it was because the street was wider, giving the impression of not so many zombies, it looked our best bet.

‘Help me,’ I said to Charlotte and we both lunged towards Elaine, grabbing an arm each and hoisting her to her feet. She yelped with pain but I felt no sympathy, only resentment that she would be slowing me and Charlotte down and putting us all at greater risk. I bent to swipe up my hammer and I stashed it through my belt, then me and Charlotte dragged Elaine along between us while Kay, Clay and Misfit went ahead to clear the route.

‘Behind!’ I yelled out. I saw Misfit glance back and he clocked the zombies that were gaining on us as me and Charlotte tried our best to support Elaine. He fell back and dived at the front runners with his knife blade.

We came out into a wider, open area, like a town square, with three streets branching out ahead of us – each of those streets teaming with lumbering rotting zombies.

‘Shit,’ I said, wondering which way was the best to go. ‘Charlotte, I’ve got Elaine. Go help the others.’ Charlotte nodded, pulled her cleaver from her belt and dived into the crowd of undead. I struggled with Elaine. She couldn’t put her weight on her smashed leg at all, so I had to drag her along like a sack of potatoes, a 5 ft 6 inch sack of potatoes.