Blood on the Floor: An Undead Adventure (24 page)

‘Ask her about the fort,’ the boy urges.

‘They just wanted food…they’re going now,’ the girl replies.

‘Ask them about the fort…’

‘Maybe mummy has come back now.’

Oh God no. Keep going. Don’t stop. They reach the clothing section they so desperately needed and keep going to get past until Heather glimpses a bright pink pop up tent between the rails. Chocolate wrappers all over the floor. Biscuits, crisps and snack food. Empty soda cans, bottles of coke, cherryade and lemonade. Don’t do it. Not your problem.

‘Er…’ the girl speaks out, her voice floating from a location unseen but definitely coming from somewhere within the rails of clothes. ‘Do you know where the fort is?’

‘No,’ Heather’s reply is instant, almost brutal. Other people are not your problem.

‘See, I asked her,’ the girl’s whispering voice comes clear.

‘Okay,’ the boy replies, dejected and quiet with a tone that makes Heather wince and scowl and hate herself and the whole bloody pissing world and all that’s in it. She stops. Furious with herself and wanting only to leave.

‘Is mummy at the thought?’

Heather stares daggers at the ceiling, her fingers tightening to squeeze Paco’s hand who looks down at it in surprise.

‘Fort and no, mummy is dead. I told you now stop asking…’

‘Fuck it,’ Heather mutters, ‘where are your parents?’ She calls out without knowing she was going to call and instantly chastises herself. The girl already said their mother is dead.

‘Mum died,’ the girl calls back which just makes Heather hate herself even for more for the girl clearly trying to sound grown up and use the word mum instead of mummy.

‘Your dad?’ Heather asks, her tone still hard.

‘He killed mummy...’

Oh you had to ask. You had to bloody ask. Just leave. Go. Walk on. Walk out.

‘Why are you here?’ She asks instead, refusing to turn and look but staring at the route ahead as though wishing she could just run down it and be away from here.

‘They don’t come here,’ the girl calls back. ‘The things…they…they can’t smell us in here…’

‘Okay,’ Heather snaps. See, they’re fine. The things don’t come here. They’re safe. Plenty of food here, plenty to drink. Nice and dry too. She closes her eyes, willing herself to go and leave with Paco so they can find a barn and have a fire and she can feed him tuna and wipe the brine from his beard. ‘Where are you?’ she asks.

‘Don’t tell her,’ the boy urges. The girl hesitates, about to speak then stopping.

‘It’s okay,’ Heather forces a softer tone to her voice. ‘I won’t hurt you.’

‘In here,’ the girl replies instantly. ‘In the clothes section.’

‘Don’t tell her that!’ The boy whispers frantically with terror in his voice.

‘I’m coming in…don’t run off,’ Heather turns and walks in, snatching a pair of mirrored sunglasses from a stand that she shoves on Paco who flinches and tries to pull away. ‘Leave them on,’ she whispers, pushing his hand away. ‘I said no, leave them on…stop it…oh don’t act blind they’re only sunglasses. Right give me your hands. Hands. Both hands…good, now leave them on.’

She walks him on with one hand holding both of his to stop him plucking the sunglasses off that he tries to shake free instead. She aims for the pink pop up tent, tracking a route through rails of clothes that have been moved about to form an inner circle.

‘Christ,’ she mutters at the mess, staring down at a sea of food wrappers and drink containers. ‘Where are you?’

The flap on the pop up tent lifts to reveal a young female face blinking out in wide eyed fear at the sight of the two bandits. One of whom is wearing sunglasses while swinging his head side to side. A boy appears next to the girl, his own face scared witless with tears welling in his eyes.

‘Why are you crying?’ Heather asks bluntly, she follows the direction of their gazes to Paco with his face covered by the t shirt and his glasses now dislodged as he tries to rave on the spot. ‘Stop,’ Heather tuts, pulling him straight to adjust his glasses. She tugs his bandit mask down too. ‘You are scaring the children now stop it. You’re fine. They’re just glasses….oh come on now,’ she reaches up to smooth his face with her yellow gloved hands. Stroking his cheeks gently as he calms and relaxes on the spot. ‘See, just glasses,’ she says gently. She turns back to the children. ‘You can’t stay here,’ she adds bluntly then remembers her own bandit mask is still up. She pulls it down and blanches at the smell. ‘Phew that stinks…you can’t stay here.’

The girl waves her hand to swat the flies buzzing her face as hundreds more crawl over the surface of the tent and more still feast on the remnants of food on the floor amongst the maggots. The girl hesitates, her eyes darting from the man to the woman, her matted hair hangs down to her shoulders leaving grease marks on her once pink top. Her hands filthy but not as bad as the boy who looks like he just crawled from a sewer. Heather takes it all in with a sense of creeping horror that children have been left to live like this. Surviving in a supermarket filled with rotting corpses. ‘You have to leave,’ she says, pursing her lips at the smell now wafting stronger for the lack of cover on her face.

‘But…’ the girl shows panic, snatching a glance at her brother then over her shoulder to look deeper in the tent. She says something quiet and low.

‘Someone else in there?’ Heather asks, she heard three voices. The third must be behind the girl and boy. ‘Let me see,’ she goes forward too fast. The boy and girl shy back afraid and fearful. ‘It’s okay,’ Heather says, slowing her motion. ‘Who’s in there?’

They don’t reply but back up as Heather leans down to peer through the flap to an interior filthier than the outside. The stench of faeces is overwhelming. Urine and sweat, greasy hair, unwashed bodies and stale breath. A little girl at the back staring wide eyed and silent. A mop of black hair matted and greasy. Her face covered in food and orange streaks from the bag of cheese balls in her lap. A sight of abject misery in a pink princess dress torn and ripped, bright red shoes on her feet that look so vibrant against the squalor and filth of her skin and the dirt encrusted on her hands.

‘Right out, come on,’ Heather motions at the little girl at the back. ‘You can’t stay here, come on…all of you…we’re going…come on…’

‘But…’ the older girl starts to protest, backing away further into the tent as though to protect her sister.

‘No, you’re leaving with us. You can’t stay here, you’ll die…look at you. Oh my…no no…’

‘But the things can’t smell us,’ the boy blurts.

‘I bloody can,’ Heather fires back. ‘We’re leaving right now…come on. You can’t stay another second.’

‘Are we going to the fort?’ The boy asks.

‘Is mummy at the fort,’ the cheese ball covered girl at the back asks.

‘Mummy’s dead,’ the older girl tells her in a tone rising in panic. ‘We can’t go…the things don’t come here. It’s not safe. It’s…where…we don’t want to go.’

‘We’ll find somewhere else for you…some other survivors or something but you can’t stay here. Not like this, come on…quickly…’ Heather waves her arm at the older girl and boy, beckoning them to come out.’

‘It’s not safe,’ the older girl blurts. ‘They can’t smell us and…’

‘You are not staying here now come on, get out,’ Heather says, the stench overwhelming her senses, the sheer depravity and squalor of it making her speak faster and harder than she intends. The children shy back, retreating into the safety of their flimsy home.

‘You have to leave,’ Heather says, feeling the frustration of scaring them while trying to deal with the smell and the heat and the desperate need to get out.

‘Go away,’ the older girl scuttles back to shield her sister while pulling her brother behind her. Her lips tremble, her whole body shaking with fear.

‘You can’t live like this…it’s…’ she casts about scowling with distaste, ‘it’s disgusting and dangerous…’

‘Those things will…’

‘They won’t do anything…come on.’

‘But,’ the girl stammers, edging further back in the pop up tent.

‘Look,’ Heather stops in the opening seeing the fear pouring off the children. Well, the older girl and boy while the youngest one at the back eats another cheese ball while watching the proceedings with interest. ‘Okay…er…Heather, I’m Heather. What’s your name? Look, you can’t stay here. It’s filthy and…there’s flies everywhere and maggots. Oh my God look…there are maggots in here. Stop her eating those crisps…right get out, right now. Out. I’m not playing now. She’ll get diseases. I won’t hurt you, come on. No I said out. I promise I won’t hurt you but you are not staying in here. All of you get out…grab your sister…Oh my God she is filthy…look at you all. Right, just stand there and…Paco, take the bag. What’s your name?’

The older girl stares in abject amazement at being shifted and moved so quickly from the safety of the tent. ‘Subi,’ she says meekly.

‘Subi?’

Subi nods, her head bobbing up and down as she stares at Heather. All three do the same. Standing in a line staring in wonder.

‘You can’t have those,’ Heather plucks the bag of cheese balls from the youngest girl’s hands and flings them aside with a tut. ‘Oh look at your hands, no don’t touch your face. Subi, stop your sister touching her face. What’s your name?’

‘Rajesh. Are we going to the fort?’

‘I don’t know anything about a fort. Find some clothes…Subi, help your brother and grab clothes. No, actually they’ll stink. I can wash them…get clothes. We need a bag. Rajesh, do you know where the bags are? Get a rucksack. Subi, you get the clothes…oh my…oh dear, the state of her. What’s her name?’

‘Amna.’

‘Amna?’

‘Yes,’ Subi says politely, still scared as she edges to the clothes rails while watching Heather warily.

‘Amna, don’t touch your face…Rajesh? Where’s that bag? Subi, get some clothes. We’re not staying here for a second longer than…what’s that?’

‘Bag,’ Rajesh says holding out the Batman rucksack.

‘I’ll grab a bag. Wait here…’ She darts off further into the clothes section, rushing frantic and sick from the smell and the sight. Flies buzz in front of her face, crawling on every surface. She spots the bags and moves down the line to the adult walking bags and grabs a dark green Berghaus. ‘Get the clothes in here. Amna, stop touching your face. Rajesh, what size are you?’

‘Um….’

‘He’s six to seven,’ Subi says, her tone still polite and formal.

‘Six to seven…right, pants, socks…t shirts…trousers…you’ll need shoes. Subi? What size is Amna?’

‘She’s four.’

‘Okay, three to four or four to five?’ Heather barks the question, peering at the labels on the hangers.

‘Er, she is…’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Heather starts grabbing clothes that get thrust into the bag that stinks as bad as anything here. All of it is tainted. ‘Subi? What size…’

‘I have mine.’

Heather turns to see Subi clutching a pile of clothes held over her arms. ‘Put them in the bag…good, right we’re going right now.’

‘But…’

‘Subi, you cannot stay here. You’re coming with us. Paco, you carry that bag and I’ll take this one…no. You might need your hands free. Er…I’ll take the big bag, Subi, you take this bag. Got it?’

She stands back, taking in the three filthy bedraggled children and Paco standing as still as ever with sunglasses covering his eyes. ‘Okay,’ Heather says, biting her lip. ‘We’re going…’

She leads them off, pausing to let Paco fall in at her side while checking the children are staying behind them. The children stay quiet. Too stunned to think of words but they cling close to each other with Subi holding her sisters hand who looks so awful in the princess dress.

The walk out is nearly as bad as the walk in. The smell, the heat, the closeness of the air and the flies buzzing furiously at being disturbed. Whole clouds of them that rise and swoosh around their heads. At the door she notices the pause of the children who slow down and stare terrified at the open world outside with hands covering eyes to shield from the glare of natural sunlight.

‘Come on,’ Heather urges them along, ushering them into the car park as she aims for the far side in a direction going away from the town centre. She gulps the fresh air, breathing deeply but still tasting and smelling the inside of the store. The three children look even worse outside now they’re away from the squalid conditions inside. The contrast to the relatively unmarked road surface is stark. Greasy hair, filthy skin, clothes torn and encrusted with grime and food stains. They’re as bad as Paco before she washed him.

What now? She needs to find other people to take the children but the evening is wearing on. It’ll be dark in a couple of hours and being out after dark is not an option, not in a town anyway. They’ll have to find somewhere tonight and start searching for people tomorrow.

‘Where’s the fort?’ She asks as suddenly as the thought pops in her head. She turns to look at the children. ‘This fort? Where is it?’

They don’t reply but look down at the ground and at each other. Shock and terror evident in their faces and movements. ‘You said about a fort,’ she prompts, not understanding why they’ve gone so quiet. ‘Subi?’

Subi looks up, a glance of eye contact then away again. ‘Some people came in…’ she trails off.