The Undead Day Nineteen (15 page)

‘Look, just hang on…’

‘So you went in there knowing it was the infection and you fucked an infected!’

‘Marcy!’

‘No, Howie,’ she says glaring at me, ‘you did that. You had sex with her knowing she was turned. That’s fucked up.’

‘It wasn’t like that. It was…I don’t know…Christ, Marcy. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing half the time. It was instinct…like…heat of the moment…it was Lani…in that room was Lani…’

‘She was fucking turned,’ she says tugging her bra out from under my leg, ‘You could have just kissed or talked to her…you could have tried to reason or…I don’t know but you had sex with her…with it…’

‘It wasn’t fucking like that.’

‘What was it then?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘No go on,’ she says putting her bra on then shoving my leg to find her top, ‘What was it?’

‘I can’t believe you’re being like this.’

‘Like what? Angry at the man I lo…at the man I like having sex with women who are trying to kill him?’

‘What?! One of them was you.’

‘Same difference.’

‘Eh? That doesn’t make any sense.’

‘So go on? Tell me, why did you have sex with her?’

‘I’ve told you.’

‘You haven’t. You said it was Lani…if it was Lani then why not talk to her and try getting her help…you could have brought her to me for a start.’

‘You?’

‘I turned her, I might have been able to…’

‘What?’

‘What?’

‘You did what? You turned Lani? You bit Lani?’

‘I er…’

‘Careful now, Marcy,’ I say, sitting upright and no longer feeling the urge to look down at her breasts. ‘Did you bite Lani?’

‘Howie…’

‘She was under your control, so she was one of yours. You bit Lani.’

‘So what. You still fucked her in that room and I was infected when I did that. What’s your excuse?’

‘Why did you bite her?’

‘To get to you obviously.’

‘What?’

‘It wasn’t me. It was the infection. I did as bid, Howie. I did as I was told.’

‘Oh no…no no, you were never fully turned.’

‘I was still infected. I took Lani to get to you. I did that. See, I admit it. I can admit the shit things I have done, Howie. I can admit every single one of them.’

‘Now that’s fucked up.’

‘Why did you have sex with Lani in that room?’

‘This conversation is over.’

‘No. You might lead everyone else but you don’t bloody pull rank on me. Why?’

‘I just said this conversation is over.’

‘Why?’

‘Leave it, Marcy.’

‘No. Why?’

‘Marcy,’ I say through gritted teeth.

‘I want to know why.’

‘Because we didn’t have sex before. Happy?’ I ask, staring at her, ‘We tried but I couldn’t do it. Something came over me in that room. I don’t know…it just fucking happened…’

‘You and Lani didn’t have sex?’

‘No. I just said that…no we did, but only in that room. We tried but I couldn’t…I was exhausted and…’

She stares at me, clearly thinking before speaking low and soft, ‘You killed ten thousand today,’ she says, holding that strange look.

‘We did, not just me.’

‘Today must have been one of the hardest. You were fine with me.’

I shake my head and pull a face, ‘I don’t know, Marcy. I don’t know what you want me to say.’

‘Nothing,’ she says with a quick smile, ‘It’s fine.’

‘What?’

‘I said it’s fine,’ she says reaching in to kiss me softly on my lips.

‘I’m so confused,’ I mutter between kisses.

‘You’re a man. It’s normal.’

‘Why…I mean…so you’re not angry that I had sex now?’

‘Oh no, I’m bloody fuming with you right now.’

‘Huh? Why you kissing me then?’

‘Because you said you couldn’t have sex with Lani because you were exhausted but I know you’re exhausted now and you still had sex with me.’

‘Fuck me…’ I shake my head trying to keep up.

‘I just did,’ She whispers and kisses me again before pulling back to tug her top down over her head, ‘We’d better get back in. Who’s next on watch?’

‘Er…’

‘I was thinking actually, Should we sleep in separate beds in there? I mean, will it be weird for everyone else if we’re in the same bed?’

‘I er…’

‘We should, yes. We’ll stick to our own beds tonight. I’d hate it if the dynamics changed. Mind you, we can put our beds next to each other. Shall we do that? What do you think?’

‘I don’t know what I think.’

‘As long as you’re thinking about me it’s fine,’ she says as she stands up to pull her trousers on, ‘I really need the bathroom. Come on, get dressed.’

I get dressed. It seems the simplest thing to do given the fug of absolute confusion in my head. Give me a room full of snarling zombies any day of the week. I’d go in unarmed with one arm tied behind my back and wearing a blindfold instead of trying to make sense of the conversation we just had.

‘Will you come to the bathroom with me?’

‘You’ve got an assault rifle.’

‘Yeah but it’s dark.’

‘And a pistol. And a knife.’

‘It’s dark.’

‘And a room full of armed people…and a massive dog.’

‘Come to the bathroom with me.’

‘Okay, Marcy.’

‘Are we taking first watch tomorrow night?’

‘I er…’

‘We will, okay? We’ll do first watch.’

‘Okay, Marcy.’

She goes to walk off then stops and comes back, holding her assault rifle out to the side so she can press her body into mine, ‘I loved tonight,’ she says kissing me again, ‘I really did.’

‘Me too.’

‘I haven’t messed your head up have I?’

‘Completely.’

‘In a bad way?’

‘I…’

‘Ah, you’ll be fine. You’re Mr Howie. Come on, it’s spooky as hell down that corridor.’

Thirteen

Clarence grunts and rolls over, sensing movement in the room.

‘Closer,’ Marcy whispers, pushing her thighs into the mattress held in her hands, ‘put it closer.’

‘Ssshhh.’

‘Closer, put it next to yours.’

‘I thought you said we shouldn’t share a bed?’

‘We’re not. We’re sleeping next to each other,’ Marcy replies staring across the mattress held between her and Howie.

‘But…it just makes a double bed…like Paula and Roy.’

‘No, Paula and Roy share a double blanket and we’ve got our own blankets.’

‘So…’

‘Just put the bloody thing down, Howie.’

‘Okay, here?’

‘Over a bit…move it over a bit…oh for fuck’s sake put it down I’ll push it in. There, see?’

‘Just share a bloody bed,’ Clarence groans, his voice muffled from his face half pressed into his pillow.

‘Marcy said we can’t,’ Howie whispers.

‘Why not?’ Clarence asks.

‘It might be weird,’ Marcy says.

‘Weird,’ Clarence mutters, sitting up to stare at the two frozen in the act of moving the mattress, ‘Nothing is normal anymore. Who’s on watch?’

‘You’re up, mate,’ Howie says.

‘Right,’ the big man swings his legs out and blinks in the dim lighting of the room. Flickering candles at the edges bathing a soft orange glow. Gentle snores, fidgets and breathing from the others sound asleep. He rubs his eyes, stretches and exhales slowly. ‘Keep an eye for a minute while I make a brew.’

‘I made you one,’ Marcy says, ‘It’s on the reception desk.’

‘Thanks, Marcy,’ Clarence says, waving a hand at her.

‘You knackered mate?’ Howie asks, ‘I’ll get someone else to go if…’

‘I’m fine, let them sleep,’ Clarence says. He stands up to thrust his right foot through the leg of his trousers, pauses to find his balance then carries on. ‘Who’s going after me?’

‘I am,’ Dave says quietly.

‘Do you ever sleep?’ Clarence asks.

‘Yes.’

‘I put some biscuits out there too,’ Marcy says, finally sitting down on the edge of her mattress now moved against Howie’s.

‘Cheers,’ Clarence says, sitting back down to tug his boots on, ‘Anything going on?’

‘Nah,’ Howie says, pulling his top over his head, ‘Few noises from the people in the rooms.’

‘Noises?’

‘Yeah like crying out, nightmares I guess.’

‘Oh right,’ Clarence says, looping his lace round the back of his left boot to retie securely at the front, ‘That’s to be expected.’

Marcy yawns, a deep sigh emanating as she exhales, ‘I’m so tired.’

‘Sleep,’ Clarence says, ‘and don’t worry about it being weird. Everything is weird. Weird is the new normal.’

‘Won’t it freak the others out?’ Marcy asks, ‘If Howie and I…well, you know.’

‘They won’t bat an eye, Marcy,’ Clarence says.

‘I said that,’ Howie says.

‘Well, we’re not in the same bed…next to each other but…’

‘You’re worrying too much,’ Clarence whispers, standing up to heft his rifle and bag, ‘get some sleep.’

They take the clothes off that they only put back on a short time ago. Boots off. Trousers tugged down. Marcy yawns again. Howie lies back resting his head on his pillow staring up at nothing. A day of such magnitude and a night of such wonder that his mind simply ceases function as the pre-cursor to sleep beckons. A sensation of movement and Marcy eases down onto her mattress with a gentle sigh. Her hand reaches out, brushing his leg. His hand finds hers. Fingers entwining.

‘Fuck it,’ Howie whispers, more to himself. Take comfort when you can. He breaks the connection of their hands and rolls to his side, shuffling to move from his mattress to hers.

‘What are you doing?’ Marcy asks softly.

‘Roll over,’ he says, resting a hand on her hip as though to guide her onto her side.

‘You spooning me?’

‘Yes.’

She rolls quickly, a turn of her body that pushes back the instant Howie pushes into her. His arm over her waist, drawing her closer. Her legs go forward, his legs pushing into them. Bodies pressing.

‘Hair,’ he lifts his head, yacking to free the strands from his mouth.

‘Sorry,’ she reaches up, smoothing her locks down under her head, ‘Better?’

‘Yeah,’ he rests back down, breathing deep, breathing Marcy, feeling the warmth from her body radiating into him.

She smiles. A gentle twitch of the lips and her eyes close heavy and content. His arm protective around her. His leg going over hers. Enveloped. She feels his heart through her back. The steady beat of it. Her arm shifts under his wrapped so close about her. She finds his hand, pushing her fingers between his and as she does so, so he kisses the back of her neck, gently, softly. His head nuzzles into hers. Her fingers squeeze. Tiny gestures of meaning that render the use of words impotent.

So they sleep. Bodies exhausted. Breathing that slows, becoming deeper. The pressure in their fingers eases. In the warmth of the night they sleep together. Surrounded by safety with a giant standing sentinel at the doors keeping the darkness away.

He sips the tea and nods the satisfied nod of a soldier showing pleasure at the perfectly made brew, ‘not bad, not bad at all.’ Pressure on his leg and he looks down to see two brown eyes staring up. He smiles and shifts position to sling the rifle to his back, freeing a hand to reach down and tickle the top of her head.

A plate of biscuits on the top of the desk and they’re even arranged in order of selection. Custard creams, Ginger Nuts, Nice, Digestives and some pink wafer things. Thought taken and the effect is not lost. It’s the small things that make the difference. Someone caring enough to make a hot drink and put biscuits on a plate.

He snorts a low blast of air on realising she’s even put some glossy magazines under the plate. Something to read. Bless. Mind you, if he caught someone reading when they were on guard duty he’d go mad at them.

Pressure again. A gentle push to remind him she is still there. He looks down and notices the flicker of her eyes that glance to the top of the desk.

‘Ah,’ he whispers, ‘it’s not me you want is it?’

What’s best for a dog? Probably digestive. Got to be digestive. Do they have less sugar? He picks one up, takes a bite and hands the other half down. She sniffs it first, examining the scent before making a decision and when she takes it, she does so gently with her mouth barely opening to slide the biscuit from his fingertips. Then it’s gone. Wolfed down with one bite and a loud swallow. She blinks up, eyes flicking over to show she’s ready for the next one.

‘Come on,’ he picks the plate up and heads outside into the open air. A pause. A long look left. Ahead. Right. Assessing. Staring. Watching. Scanning. He looks at Meredith for any reaction to anything outside but she shows none.

He rests his bulk on the back edge of the Saxon. Placing the plate next to him and holding the big mug of tea. His rifle scrapes gently on the floor of the vehicle. His legs stretch out. Motion ahead and he watches the horse trotting slowly towards him. Meredith moves out a few paces to intercept with a wag of her tail. The horse stops, drooping its enormous head to sniff the dog who licks Jess’s mouth. Jess smells sugar on the dog and sugar in the air. She looks up, seeing the man putting something in his mouth.

‘Right,’ Clarence sighs again at being joined by a hungry horse and a hungry dog. You share your rations though. That’s what soldiers do. So they eat biscuits. Crunching and munching with a huge horse pushing her nose into a huge man at the back of a huge army vehicle while a huge dog watches closely. If aliens landed now they’d think the world was populated by giant creatures that eat together and communicate with grunts, pushes and low whines and tails that swish and wag. They’d see a big man with a bald head smiling in pleasure and chuckling at the temerity of a horse trying to take the custard cream from his hand, even when it’s being lifted to his mouth. She sniffs his tea. Her eyes watching him for reaction. He shows none but gently pulls the mug away when her lips open and she tries to eat the cup.

Tea drunk. Biscuits munched so he makes use of his now empty hands and reaches both out to scratch and rub ears and heads. Horse breath blasts his face. Meredith twitches, her head snapping over. Clarence rises from his position swinging the rifle round in one smooth and very well practised motion. Bolt back, safety off, finger resting and the weapon is up and aimed as the horse turns round to face out. The three pace forward in a line. Side by side. Listening. Staring. Not a flicker of fear shows. Jess tosses her head and whines gently. Something is out there but Meredith isn’t growling or showing teeth. The great horse steps back, suddenly unsure of something. Meredith goes forward, creeping with her head fixed on one point. Clarence holds, ready to shout the warning to stand to, to make ready. His mind already forming the plan that Paula and Marcy should get the people up and ready to move Blowers can take the flanks with his team. Howie, Roy and Dave up front with him. That’s how they do it.

‘What is it?’ He murmurs to Meredith as though expecting a verbal response. A flicker of movement and his aim twitches. A swish of something. A blur of shadows. His lungs fill, ready to bellow as the fox comes to the edge of the shadows, bathed in silvery light cast by the high moon.

The fox holds. Sniffing the air. Smelling food. Meredith watches the fox. Interested and poised but not threatened. Jess doesn’t like foxes. She doesn’t like anything that lurks about in the shadows. She can smell it and hooves the ground, ready to charge it down and send it fleeing until a steadying hand rests on her shoulder. ‘Easy,’ Clarence whispers.

Another blur and the fox is gone. Slinking away with a flash of white showing in his tail but they stand watching for minutes more. Listening intently as the man looks to the dog for her reaction and only when she lies down does he ease back towards the vehicle.

Time passes. Meredith sleeps with her ears pricked, having jumped into the back of the Saxon and up onto the bench seats to lie with her front paws over the back edge. Jess stays close at first then wanders off to graze and doze. Stars overhead. Constellations that Clarence recognises but couldn’t name. Who would know the names? Reginald definitely would. Probably Charlie too. Paula possibly. Nick can be surprising in the things he knows. Cookey would point out the ones that look like body parts. The thought makes Clarence smile and chuckle softly to himself. That lad is more valued than he will ever know. It takes something very special to keep the spirits of people so high. He thinks back to the days in the commune in London with Big Chris and Malcolm. The frantic pressure. The things they did. It was only five or six days from when it all started to when Howie arrived, but those few days felt like weeks and the time since then feels like months and he wanders what happened to that famous woman that disappeared from the commune just before Howie arrived. He sighs heavy and deep with a mind that gently thinks back and eyes that stare ahead.

Dave hears him coming in. The heavy tread and the way he breathes through his nose. He judges the distance covered and tracks the motion from the door to the kitchen and then back towards his own position. At which point he sits up wide awake and alert. An act which makes Clarence stop, roll his eyes and alter direction towards his own mattress.

‘Report?’ Dave says.

Clarence breathes out, holding his tongue from the blunt tone of Dave. He knows Dave can’t help being the way he is but it still grates. ‘All quiet. Fox out there made Meredith get a bit twitchy.’

Dave doesn’t reply but dresses almost silently and so fast that by the time Clarence has his first boot off, Dave is ready to go and dropping to a crouch next to Mo Mo.

‘What are you doing? The Boss said to let them sleep.’

Dave ignores him and rests a hand on Mo’s shoulder, applying gentle pressure to wake the lad, ‘Get up.’

‘Eh?’ Mo comes awake, staring up at Dave, ‘What’s up?’

‘You’re on watch with me. Get up.’

Mo nods quickly. ‘Okay,’ he whispers as Dave moves off, stops then comes back. ‘Do you want a drink?’ Dave asks. A question which makes Mo just stare in surprise.

‘Er…’

‘A drink?’

‘Yeah,’ Mo says, his voice cracking from sleep.

‘Yes not yeah.’

‘Yes, Dave,’ Mo says, blinking rapidly.

‘I will get you a drink,’ Dave announces quietly.

Mo just stares and blinks, ‘okay,’ he says on finding his voice. Again Dave goes to move off then stops and comes back. ‘You will need your knife and your pistol. Holstered. Bring your rifle and your bag.’

‘Where we going?’ Mo asks.

‘We are on watch. I will get that drink now.’

Dave moves away. Heading into the kitchen as Mo sits up and looks round to see Clarence staring over.

‘What’s going on?’ Mo asks.

Clarence just shakes his head and sighs, ‘I think you’re getting trained.’

‘Trained?’

‘Dave trained,’ Clarence says, heaving his next boot off.