Blog of the Dead (Book 3): Lost (8 page)

‘Since the outbreak, we’ve learned to get by on what we need. We need really very little and the little we have – food, water, company – we appreciate it. We appreciate just getting to the end of the day. We appreciate life. We have learned the value of it. I grew veg on the roof of this place last summer. It was great. I worked hard planting and weeding and watering. It was work but it was satisfying work, honest work, meaningful work. It was work that resulted in me getting fed, not to serve some boss who treats me like shit while getting rich off my efforts.’ Mal let out a sigh. ‘But I guess most of you are too young to fully understand…’ He let that hang in the air a moment before continuing.

‘How much do you lot rely on each other?’ None us of answered, I guess we all realised it was a rhetorical question. ‘A lot, I’m guessing,’ Mal continued. ‘You probably all met since the outbreak, am I right?’ I nodded, certain that he didn’t want me to spoil his lecture with words of my own; he looked like he’d been waiting a while for a captive audience. ‘But I bet you appreciate each other more than your pre-zombie families, and no doubt you have stronger bonds than friends you grew up with. You
are
family.

‘If you want to know what the bright side of the zombie apocalypse is, it’s that it has made us wake up. It’s allowed us to reclaim our lives. It has made us live instead of allowing our lives to wash over us. It has set us free.’

Mal looked at each of us in turn as we sat and gazed at him through wide unblinking eyes. I had never heard anyone put a positive spin on the zombie apocalypse before. And I had to admit, having digested his words, it was rather convincing. In fact, now that I thought about it, I did recall, pre-apocalypse, more than one Facebook friend posting, ‘Bring on the zombie apocalypse’ statuses on a Monday morning.

But none of them really meant it. No one really wanted everyone to die.

‘You’re wrong,’ I said as I stood up and looked down at Mal. ‘It’s ridiculous to think so many people have died – our loved ones have died – just so the remaining few can be set free. I’ve been cheated out of my future. I was a student, just starting out in life. I could have been anything, and I’ll never know now. Maybe society sucked before, maybe people were stuck in jobs or relationships they hated. But all they had to do was quit and move on, to not fear change. If you think being terrified for your life, not knowing what happened to your family, watching your friends die one by one, never being able to settle anywhere for long before your small bit of peace is shattered and everything you worked hard to build is torn down by dead hands – if you think being tortured by insane humans that are no longer kept in check by a legal system is being set free, then you really are living in a fucking dreamland!’

I stormed out of the staff room and through to the salon. My anger acted as a jet pack, propelling me across the room until the window we entered through halted me. I looked outside, at the zombies staggering below.

After a while an arm wrapped around my waist from behind. I turned to see Misfit sidle up next to me. ‘Is he OK?’ I asked. ‘I didn’t mean to get so cross at him. It’s fair play if he wants to be happy in all this madness. I shouldn’t have…’

‘He’s OK.’

‘Looks like we’re stuck here for now.’ I nodded down towards the zombies. ‘Maybe some of his positivity will rub off on us.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Do you think he’ll let us crash here – after my outburst.’

‘I’m sure he will.’

I nestled into Misfit’s side and he tightened his grip around my body, resting his cheek against the side of my head. ‘You know,’ he began in not much more than a whisper. ‘I sorta agreed with him. I mean, to me, all this crap has been worth it.’ I turned my head so I could look into his eyes.

‘Huh?’

‘It’s been worth it because it led me to you.’

January 2, 7am

After a little timeout yesterday evening, I sheepishly rejoined the others in the staff room. I apologised to Mal for yelling at him but he was like, ‘Not a problem. We all need moments like that to get all the frustration out and find a perspective.’ He even found a bright side to my tantrum.

Mal produced a bottle of brandy. He found six dusty mugs in a cupboard in the kitchenette and poured a shot of brandy into each. I helped by passing them round to the others. Mal motioned for me to sit on the sofa but I shook my head and sat beside Misfit who’d settled himself on the floor using the bundle of bedding Mal shoved out the way earlier as a cushion. Misfit leaned forwards and pulled the bundle along so that I could rest against it too.

‘Why a hair salon?’ I asked Mal.

He shrugged. ‘It’s my own little castle in the sky.’

‘But it’s not very… homely,’ said Charlotte.

‘Well, that’s the thing,’ said Mal. ‘Looters pass by because they don’t think there’d be anything worth stealing up here. I mean, who’s that bothered about shampoo and hair dye these days. It’s taken me a while to stockpile all this lot,’ he nodded towards the bags and boxes in the kitchenette. ‘And in the spring I’ll get the roof garden going again – you’d be amazed at how much you can grow in such a small space – and the last thing I want is to attract trouble. Up here I’m out of sight, out of mind. But I have a good view of what’s going on down there.’

‘But still,’ I said. ‘A house has got to be more comfortable.’

‘I tried a house,’ said Mal. ‘It’s how I learned the out of sight, out of mind theory.’

‘Or out in the country somewhere,’ said Charlotte.

‘Yeah, you said it yourself, man,’ said Clay. ‘Tons of zombies in the town centre – fuck that.’

‘I can’t normally stand the country,’ said Kay. ‘It’s full of mud and shit. But I’d take that over hanging about in a town centre for too long these days.’

‘I tried the country house,’ said Mal, a tightness in his voice. ‘I wasn’t always alone, you know,’ he added, his mood darkening. The cloud shifted so fast that I wondered if it had been there at all and with a mask of a smile Mal said, ‘Anyone for a top up? I’ve got another few bottles of this fine liquid if anyone’s interested.’

‘Hell yeah, I’m interested,’ I said, raising my mug. For all his positivity, Mal had his story, just the same as the rest of us. And I got the feeling, based on the, “I wasn’t always alone” remark, his was pretty bleak. Sometimes those with the biggest smiles hide the greatest sorrow.

Last night wasn’t the most comfortable night I’ve ever had. Mal offered up the sofa but none of us would take it. He’d helped us enough by saving our lives, so we couldn’t turn him out of his bed, too.

Clay slept in the armchair. He did offer it to me, Kay and Charlotte first, but it wasn’t that comfortable and, besides, none of us could get to grips with sleeping sitting up. The rest of us found a space on the laminate floor and made do. Kay and Charlotte sprawled out on one side, and on my left, Misfit settled down. He lay on his side, his head resting on his elbow, his eyes on me. I rolled over so I lay on my side facing him. Neither of us spoke, we just gazed into each other’s eyes for a while. I smiled. Misfit smiled back, a half smile, spreading into a full grin.

Misfit straightened out his arm, extending it towards me. I slid myself over, my head finding his shoulder and, as he wrapped his arm around me, I nestled into his side.

I lay on a cold, hard floor with no pillow or blanket. It might not have been the most comfortable night I’d ever had, but it was the best I’d had in a while.

10am

As I lay in Misfit’s arms last night, I thought about what he had said, about the zombie apocalypse being worth it because he’d met me. Of course, I had wondered myself whether I would have met him if it hadn’t of been for the outbreak. While I couldn’t get my head around the thought that it made it worthwhile, I did feel a warm satisfaction that Misfit considered mass death and the end of civilization as collateral damage in order to meet me. Is that wrong? 

We all woke feeling achy and sluggish. Once limbs had been stretched and muscles eased, each of us headed to the windows on either side of the staff room to check out the route back to the car.

‘Still a fair few dead fuckers on this side,’ said Kay. ‘What’s it like over there?’

‘Not too bad,’ I said. ‘There’s around ten, maybe fifteen at most directly below, probably more at the front of the building. Looks like most of them have buggered off though, which is good.’

‘You’re off then?’ asked Mal.

‘Yeah,’ I said.

‘Where to?’

‘Surrey.’

‘What’s in Surrey?’ asked Mal.

‘My family. Only…’ I hung my head. ‘I just need to know.’

I glanced up to see Mal nod, but thankfully – because I had begun to like the guy and I didn’t want him to spoil it – he didn’t try and give me any ‘bright side’ bullshit about my family being dead.

Misfit emerged from the salon – I hadn’t even noticed he’d left the staff room. ‘The way back towards the car is still pretty chocker,’ he said, nodding back towards the salon. ‘We could fight our way through. But it might be better if I head out and pick us up another vehicle.’

‘No way, Misfit, not with so many zombies out there,’ I said.

‘I’ll be fine.’

‘I don’t feel comfortable with you out there alone,’ I said, taking a few steps closer to him.

‘I’m the quickest and the quietest. I don’t feel comfortable with you… with any of you lot,’ he added, tearing his eyes off me and glancing at the others, ‘out there. I won’t be long.’

‘I got ya back, mate,’ said Clay.

‘No need, Clay, mate. I’ll be better on my own.’ He turned to Mal. ‘Is there a main way in and out?’

‘It’s sealed off to keep the bad guys out,’ said Mal. ‘It’s in and out through the window you used yesterday.’ With that, and with Clay looking like he’d forgotten to put sugar in his tea, Misfit slipped out of the room alone and was gone.

12pm

I sat on one of the black leather hairdressing chairs that I’d pushed up as high as it would go so I had a good view out the window. Anyone who suggested they take over so I could rest was greeted with a bare-toothed snarl. There were still many zombies below and Misfit was out there alone.

Through the stiff, withering bodies that staggered aimlessly below, I couldn’t see any sign of a leather-clad figure lying on the ground and I guessed Elaine had risen and staggered off on her one good leg, ready to become a tick on someone else’s quota. Misfit had been gone for about twenty minutes already. I wondered if this was anything near what my mum and dad must have felt when I stayed out late with my friends for the first time – staying up just to make sure I got home safely, unable to sleep until they knew I had.

I’d been sixteen the first time, and a group of us went to an open mic night at The Mezz Bar at The Leatherhead Theatre. Dad had driven me and three friends there, no doubt resisting the urge to say, ‘Are you going out dressed like that?’ at the sight of my short skirt and heels. I hadn’t given my parents a thought at the time, while I was out enjoying myself. But now I could imagine Mum and Dad spending the evening pacing up and down the living room, biting their nails or rooted at the window, imagining me drugged, abducted and raped by one of the many bad men that where laying in wait for a young, innocent girl like me. Their breath held, their hearts aching, their stomachs wrenching until they saw my friend’s dad’s car pull up outside to drop me off at the end of the night. Safe and sound.

Exchange ‘bad men’ for ‘zombies’ and ‘drugged, abducted and raped by’ to ‘eaten by’ and you have a good picture of how I was feeling as I waited for Misfit to return.

My concern was interrupted by the sound of a noisy diesel engine approaching. I stood and thrust my head through the open window, aware of the others crowding behind me. A large van, painted deep purple, pulled up below but not before it had flattened all the zombies in its path. A moment later, and with the engine still running, the side door slid open and I saw Misfit standing there, gazing up at me, a half smile and a wink.

‘Time to go, people,’ I said, noticing that every zombie in the vicinity was staggering in the direction of the van.

While Charlotte climbed through the window, I turned to Mal. ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘We owe you our lives.’

‘No worries. Glad I could help,’ he said, a smile just too wide, too bright, too warm and genuine for the zombie apocalypse. It was a smile that hid a lot of hurt.

Kay slipped out next, looking stronger than she had the previous day.

‘And thanks for thinking we were worth saving. You know, that we weren’t the “bad guys”.’

‘Sometimes you have to take the chance, or else you let the bad guys win.’

‘Whoever it was you lost, you lost them to the bad guys, didn’t you?’ I said.

‘Yep.’

I hesitated at the window.

‘Come with us,’ I spoke fast, knowing that I was holding everyone up.

‘Thanks,’ said Mal. ‘But no thanks. It’s not for me. I just want to sit up here in my castle and watch the dead world go by.’

‘You don’t need to be alone.’

‘Sophie,’ Clay nodded his head to the window as he spoke, urging me on.

‘I’m never alone. I look down there and I see the ones that died because they didn’t fight hard enough for their freedom. I’m just happy letting it all roll by, no one to care about other than myself, no ties. Nowhere to be.’