The Undead Day Nineteen (18 page)

‘Right,’ I say, starting to seethe.

‘You can’t blame them, Mr Howie,’ Kyle says easily, as though it’s just he and I in the room, ‘it shows the esteem in which they hold you.’

‘I can look after myself. Don’t any of you do that again do you hear me? I don’t need…’

‘Do you not?’ He asks, cutting me off with a flash of intensity in his eyes, ‘Can you do it alone then can you?’

‘No but…’

‘Then be humbled not angry. That is your pride speaking for you. Say thank you for their protection and love.’

A sense of shame burns sudden and hot in my cheeks from the chastisement hidden in his words.

‘Each one of them placed themselves in harm’s way for you yesterday, Howie…’

‘Mr Howie…’

‘Dave,’ Marcy says softly.

‘I do not like the way this man speaks to Mr Howie.’

‘Dave’s autistic,’ Marcy says.

‘Do you apologise for him?’ Kyle asks, switching that intensity to her.

‘No, no I meant…’

‘The living army,’ Kyle says, sweeping his gaze over the faces mesmerised by the change in his manner. He holds court in the centre but without fear or worry. A power resonates from him that holds all our tongues still. ‘So few,’ he stares hard at Blowers which would normally make Blowers stiffen and glower but the lad sinks back slightly as though ashamed. ‘Hold your head up, son’ Kyle says kindly to him, ‘you don’t know the strength you possess. You are the glue that binds, do you hear me?’

‘Nick, Cookey…Paula, Roy,’ Kyle looks to each in turn, ‘Clarence the giant, Mo…We heard your names before you came. Mr Howie and Dave…the living army. Yet there are more, Marcy, Reginald, Charlie and Blinky, more wood, Blinky.’

‘Sir,’ Blinky nods putting more kindling into the flames.

‘They will know your names too,’ Kyle says to them and them alone, ‘And everything you do will be known and shared as they hide in the shadows and wait for the hope of light to come for you few are that light.’ He stops and turns to fix that intense look on Mo, ‘so young Mohammed, can you carry this weight, son?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Yes not yeah,’ Dave says.

‘Yes.’

‘How about you, Blinky?’ Kyle asks the girl crouched on the floor feeding the fire, ‘Can you hold true?’

‘Easy,’ she says softly, her eyes unblinking for once as they hold trapped on every word he speaks.

‘Yes,’ he grins at her, wide, toothy and full of delight, ‘yes you can. And you will,’ he laughs, filling the room with sound that dies as the laugh eases and he whispers, ‘all of you will because it will get darker, harder, worse than now and you
must
hold true,’ his voice becomes a growl full of conviction and belief, ‘All of you
must
hold true. You must. Do you hear me? He barks, making us all flinch, ‘are you listening to me? Are you?’

Each person he looks at nods. It’s impossible not to.

‘The sins are not yours to carry. Do not burden yourselves with the belief that you have fouled in this life for you will be absolved…you
are
absolved.’

A tear falls from Paula’s eye to roll down a cheek, solitary and slow. Clarence swallows, his hands frozen on the can of tuna in front of him. Marcy’s head lowers, her eyes glistening. A rush of emotion strikes us all and only Dave and Blinky show no outward reaction. I see Charlie dipping her head and Nick tilting his up defiant and proud and Blowers glaring but not with anger. Roy moving closer to Paula and Marcy lifting her head to meet my gaze.

‘They are not children you kill,’ he says, turning to see us all, ‘they are not men or women. They are
not
people. They do not have souls. Do not drop your eyes in shame. Be righteous and hold your heads up,’ he says with a look at Blowers. ‘Be thankful for each other and the love you share,’ he turns to each, enforcing his point until suddenly he sighs and lifts the tea towel from his shoulder. ‘Now sod off, I’ve got a lot of people to feed. The coffee won’t be long. Go on, be away with you now. Blinky, that fire is big enough now.’

The spell breaks as Kyle the cook waves, badgers and ushers us from his kitchen. We traipse quietly into the main room to stand in a stunned group of silent and pensive reflection at words spoken that held enough power to invoke emotions strong enough to bring most of us to tears.

‘I think,’ Cookey announces thoughtfully, his face showing the same level of thought we all feel ‘that we just got dissolved.’

Blowers groans, ‘you twat.’

‘What? He said it, he said you are dissolved. He said that. But I always thought water was involved when you got dissolved, like blessed holy baby Jesus water or something.’

‘Blessed holy baby Jesus water?’ Blowers asks, ‘did you really just say that?’

‘I did glue boy.’

‘Blinky shoved her finger in some water,’ Nick points out.

‘Ha! You got a dissolved finger,’ Cookey laughs.

‘Fuck it,’ Blinky snaps, glaring at her finger, ‘is that bad then? Will anything happen to it?’

‘Where the fuck do you start with that?’ Blowers says quietly. He looks at Cookey then at Blinky and goes to say something else then just stops and shakes his head sadly.

‘Cookey,’ Paula says slowly.

‘Don’t,’ Blowers says, ‘There’s no point. Really. Just don’t even try.’

‘Who is that guy?’ Marcy asks.

‘No idea,’ I say, ‘I had my head under the tap and he said the same thing to me.’

‘What? That you’re dissolved?’ Cookey asks so sincerely that I lack the heart to correct him, that and Nick and Blowers both frantically shaking their heads.

‘Er yeah, mate, I got dissolved.’

‘So like…he abs…’ Marcy starts to say as Nick coughs loudly, ‘He
dissolved
you under running water?’ She says, fighting the smile from forming.

‘Guess so, I don’t know. It felt alright though.’

‘What? Being dissolved?’ Paula asks innocently.

‘So’ Marcy asks, looking back at the kitchen doors, ‘You think he’s a priest or something?’

‘Fuck knows.’

‘Reginald?’

‘Yes, Marcy and no, Marcy. We are not going into the kitchen to be…’

‘We are. Come on.’

‘Marcy, I really do not feel the need to hold my head under a cold water tap while a cook tells me…’

‘It can’t hurt after the shit we did.’

‘You did. Not we did.’

‘You were there. Come on.’

‘Marcy. I must protest.’

‘Do it quietly,’ she says, grabbing his wrist as she pulls him back into the kitchen but I do notice he doesn’t protect that much. Either he wants to be absolved or dissolved by a bloke that may or may not be a priest or he likes being dragged about by Marcy. Can’t say as I blame him. I mean, there’s worse people to get dragged around and dissolved by, especially when she’s naked in the back of the Saxon with the moon shining down on her boo…

‘Howie?’

‘Huh?’ I say, realising that Paula just said something.

‘Go and get washed, you’re sharing with Clarence and Dave.’

‘Sharing what?’

‘A bathroom.’

‘Eh? Why?’

‘Because we’ve only got four rooms left that’s why. Reginald, Neal and Roy are sharing. The lads can have one. I’ll share with the other girls so that leaves…oh just go and get washed. Nick? Blowers? You both need to shave. Make sure you shave. The living army should be smart. They do look nice when they’re shaved,’ she informs me, folding her arms then darting a quick look at Mo trying to sneak past, ‘Mo, do you need a shave?’

‘No!’ He calls out as he speeds up out of the room.

‘Have a shave, honey.’

Mo runs out then reappears leaning round the doorframe, ‘Did you call me honey?’

‘Yes? Problem?’ Paula asks him.

He grins wide young and full of mischief, ‘Nah, it’s all good yeah? You get me?’

‘I will bloody get you,’ she laughs as he runs off, ‘Clarence, does Mo know how to shave?’

‘Showed him yesterday.’

‘He might have forgotten. You or Roy go and remind him how to do it.’

‘The lads’ll do it,’ Clarence says, ‘Don’t embarrass him.’

‘You need a haircut,’ Paula says, fixing me with an appraising look.

‘Fuck me, you’re on one this morning,’ I say before moving quickly away.

‘I bet someone in that load of survivors is a hairdresser.’

‘Sorry, what?’ I ask rushing off towards the reception.

‘I’ll find one,’ she calls out.

‘Find one what?’ I shout back as Marcy comes out of the kitchen with wet hair and muttering at Reginald walking behind her.

‘It’s only bloody water,’ she says.

‘It was cold!’

‘Oh man up. Where is everyone?’

Fifteen

‘Fuck me, he’s in there already,’ Cookey says, walking into the hotel bedroom with Nick and Mo to find Blowers already in the shower, ‘don’t piss in it, glue boy.’

‘Too late,’ Blowers shouts.

‘And don’t ask me to pick the soap up.’

‘I won’t,’ Blowers shouts, ‘Nick?’

‘What?’

‘Can you pick the soap up?’

‘Twat,’ Nick laughs, dumping his bag on the double bed, ‘Mo, you going next?’

‘Yeah don’t mind,’ Mo says, dumping his bag between Cookey’s and Nick’s.

‘What the fuck was all that about?’ Cookey asks.

‘What?’ Nick asks.

‘Er the massive foam party we had last night…the bloke in the kitchen you fucking moron.’

‘No idea,’ Nick says, undoing the buckles and zips on his bag, ‘you think we’re taking those people back to the fort?’

‘Probably,’ Cookey replies.

‘What was that?’ Blowers asks, opening the bathroom door with a towel round his waist.

‘Nick asked if we’re taking those people back to the fort,’ Cookey says.

‘Ah, yeah probably,’ Blowers says, ‘who’s going next?’

‘Mo,’ Nick says, ‘Mo, you shaving?’

‘Paula said I got to,’ Mo replies, ‘but er…’

‘What’s up, mate?’ Blowers asks, seeing a fleeting look of worry cross Mo’s face.

‘Nuffin, S’free yeah?’ Mo asks, hiding his nerves as he slips back into slang.

‘Mo,’ Blowers says, heading to his own bag, ‘I don’t know how to hotwire a car and I’m sure as fuck I couldn’t fight Dave like you just did…I’d be flat on my arse in seconds.’

‘You like arse,’ Cookey mutters.

‘Point is,’ Blowers says, ignoring Cookey, ‘is that we all have different skills…apart from Cookey who doesn’t have any skills.’

‘Fact,’ Nick adds.

‘Your mums,’ Cookey mutters, pulling a pair of socks from his bag and subjecting them to the sniff test, ‘are they clean? They smell clean.’

‘If you forgot how to shave just say,’ Nick says.

‘Yeah,’ Mo nods, grinning at Cookey pushing his socks into Blowers face.

‘Are they clean?’

‘Fuck off you…’ Blowers shouts then sniffs, ‘yes they’re clean.’

‘Cheers twat. Ha motherfuckers, I got clean socks. Yep, clean socks for my footsies today. See my sock dance,’ Cookey says, bobbing on the spot while holding his clean socks, ‘this is my clean sock dance bitches.’

‘Dissolve yeah?’ Nick asks as Blowers and Mo burst out laughing.

‘What?’ Cookey asks, pausing in his clean sock dance, ‘what’s funny about that?’

‘Mo?’ Nick asks, ‘bother you if I shave at the same time?’

‘Nah it’s good,’ Mo says.

‘What’s funny about dissolving?’ Cookey asks.

‘Such a dick,’ Blowers mutters.

‘Glue boy,’ Cookey nods at Blowers, ‘do you want to see my clean sock dance again?’

‘No. Not really.’

‘You do.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Is the sink big?’

‘What?’ Blowers asks, sinking on the edge of the bed and looking up at Cookey still holding his socks.

‘Is the sink big?’

‘What the fuck you on about?’

‘Nick?’ Cookey shouts, ‘you got room for another one in there?’

‘No. Fuck off.’

‘Roger that,’ Cookey says, grabbing his wash bag and heading for the bathroom.

‘I said no,’ Nick groans as Cookey pushes between him and Mo.

‘Blah blah blah, right…Mo… let’s get taught how to shave by Nick. But not our bollocks. Nick, we’re not shaving our bollocks again,’ he looks at Mo with a serious face, ‘don’t shave your bollocks, Mo. They get really itchy.’

‘Dave showering?’

‘Yup,’ Clarence says, unpacking his bag on the bed, ‘and probably shaving and sharpening his knife while doing press ups at the same time.’

I chuckle and dump my bag on the bed, ‘Mo got Dave trained then.’

‘The boy’s got skills,’ Clarence says dropping to sit on the edge of the bed that creaks and groans under his massive weight. He looks round at the noises and frowns, ‘cheap beds.’

‘Yeah,’ I say slowly, ‘blame the bed.’ He grunts a laugh as I start undoing the buckles and zips on my bag to pull out clean clothes and my wash bag.

‘How was last night?’ Clarence asks, bending double to tug his boots off.

‘Good,’ I reply, sitting on the other side to bend double and tug my boots off.

‘Good?’ He asks, freeing one foot and starting on the other, ‘or very good?’

‘Very good,’ I reply as I start on my second boot.

‘Yeah?’ He asks, pulling his socks off.

‘Yeah,’ I say, pulling my socks off.

‘Good,’ he says, sitting back up straight and frowning again at the creaking noises coming from the bed.

‘Aye,’ I say standing up for fear of the bed collapsing, ‘until the last bit when she had a go at me for having sex with Lani in the old armoury.’

‘Ah,’ he says knowingly, ignoring the splintering sound of wooden slats breaking, ‘Marcy does strike me as the jealous type.’

‘Just a bit,’ I say, staring at the bed and waiting for it to break, ‘she is nice though,’ I add.

‘Yeah?’ Clarence stops trying to break the bed to glance at me.

‘Yeah,’ I say, nodding.

‘Good,’ he says manfully with a manful nod of manliness.

I nod back. Manfully and full of manliness.

‘Shower is free,’ Dave says, striding from the bathroom fully dressed, cleanly shaven, boots tied and top tucked in.

‘Good,’ I say.

‘Good,’ Clarence says.

‘Blinky showering?’ Paula asks, closing the door behind her and dumping her bag on the bed next to the others.

‘Yep,’ Marcy says from the chair in the corner of the room, bending double to tug her boots off.

‘I almost said she should go with the lads,’ Paula says, dropping to sit on the edge of the bed.

‘She would have preferred it,’ Charlie says, sitting on the other side of the bed and bending double to tug her boots off.

‘Really?’ Paula asks with a laugh.

‘Urgh it’s going to be so cold,’ Marcy says with a groan, ‘I hate cold showers…’

‘I bet Howie needs one this morning,’ Paula says, twisting round to smile at Charlie, ‘or maybe he doesn’t?’ She adds with relish.

‘Done,’ the bathroom door slams open as Blinky walks out dressed with boots on with wet hair pulled back into a ponytail.

‘That was quick,’ Charlie says.

‘I don’t fuck about like you shaving everything and powdering my fanny…’ she fires back and stops dead at the sight of Paula in the room, ‘sorry, Miss Paula, Miss.’

‘It’s fine,’ Paula says quickly, ‘and it’s just Paula, not Miss Paula…’

‘Yes, Miss,’ Blinky says, nodding smartly, ‘may I be excused, Miss?’

‘Blinky, it’s Paula. Not Miss and you don’t have to ask…’

‘Yes, Miss.’

‘Paula.’

‘Yes, Miss Paula.’

‘Just Paula.’

‘Er…so can I be excused er…Mi…er…’

‘You don’t have to rush off,’ Paula says, trying to put the girl at ease but only striking terror deep into Blinky’s heart at the prospect of having to make small talk with other women.

Blinky blinks and looks at Charlie. Charlie was the captain. Charlie knows what to do in these situations. Charlie always knows what to do. ‘Can I go?’ She mouths as though neither Paula nor Marcy can hear or see her.

‘Maybe help Kyle?’ Charlie whispers.

‘Kyle needs help, Miss,’ Blinky announces to Paula, ‘with the fire and…some other shit probably.’

‘Okay then,’ Paula says, blowing air out through her cheeks.

‘Bye then, Miss…er….shit,’ Blinky winces as she strides from the room, wrenching the thing open then closing it gently with a last smart nod at Paula.

‘Well,’ Paula says, looking to Marcy then Charlie, ‘guess she would prefer being with the lads then.’

‘Has she left it in a mess?’ Charlie asks, moving to the doorway with a sense of reasonability for the actions of Blinky.

‘Has she?’ Marcy asks, rising from the chair to peer through, ‘it’s fine…who’s next for the cold shower?’

‘Ooh,’ Paula rushes to her feet as she remembers the conversation they were having before Blinky came out of the bathroom, ‘cold showers…Howie…go on then?’ She pulls an excited face at Charlie who frowns gently at the feeling of imposing.

‘Do you want me to go?’ She asks politely.

‘God no,’ Marcy says, reaching out to gently pull Charlie in before lowering her voice to a whisper, ‘So,’ she says emphatically, ‘Howie and I had first watch…’ she trails off with a growing smile.

‘You didn’t,’ Paula says, staring wide eyed.

‘We did,’ Marcy says with a proud nod and pushes her tongue into her cheek. ‘Oh yes…’

‘You had sex?’ Paula asks, with a grin becoming shamelessly salacious.

‘Really?’ Charlie asks, blinking and shuffling in with an involuntary action of wishing to be closer to share the news and sense of excitement coming from Marcy.

‘Yep,’ Marcy says, equally as happy at what she and Howie did and now the chance to share it with two other women. ‘It was so nice.’

‘Details,’ Paula says, biting her bottom lip, ‘Come on…we want details.’

‘Well,’ Marcy says, still grinning and looking up to the ceiling as though in thought, ‘…it was strange…’

‘Strange? Strange how? Good God…what did you both do?’

‘No,’ Marcy laughs, ‘I mean, Howie was really suffering, you know…thinking about that girl and he was all dark…you know how he gets. Charlie, you’ve seen Howie go all dark haven’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Charlie nods thinking of the difference in the man when he switches and the intensity that pours from his brooding eyes.

‘Well anyway, so he was suffering. Like really bad. So I stripped off and…’

‘You did what?’ Paula asks, leaning in.

‘I stripped off,’ Marcy says, turning round as though to check no one else has crept in to listen, ‘His eyes were closed so when I got on him he just felt my naked body…’

‘Oh my god! That is pure brilliance,’ Paula announces, ‘I bet that got his attention.’

‘Did it!’ Marcy scoffs then recovers with a mock serious air, ‘Er…yes, yes it did.’

‘So?’ Paula asks as Charlie feels herself eager for the next instalment.

‘We had sex,’ Marcy says.

‘We had sex,’ Paula tuts, rolling her eyes and making Charlie chuckle, ‘listen to her…obviously you had sex…what was it like? Was it romantic? Was he a brute?’

‘A brute?’ Charlie laughs but looks at Marcy just in case she says Howie was a brute.

‘No no, he was so…’ Marcy pauses, thinking and remembering, ‘I don’t know…he was er…’

‘What?’ Paula asks.

Marcy shrugs and her eyes show the memory so recent in her mind, ‘He was intense but…gentle…yeah, I think that’s the best way to say it.’

‘Oh,’ Paula says, pulling her head back with a knowing nod, ‘I knew he would be. Didn’t you?’ She asks Charlie, ‘I can just imagine Howie being intense and gentle.’

‘Definitely,’ Charlie says.

‘He was holding me so tightly…his arms were clamped on like he couldn’t get close enough but…’

‘Like a limpet?’ Paula laughs.

‘No! Not a limpet, like…just…I’m shit at explaining things.’

‘Vulnerable?’ Charlie suggests softly.

‘Yeah,’ Marcy says slowly, staring intently at Charlie, ‘that’s it. He was vulnerable but not like weak.’

They lapse into thoughtful silence of deep sighs and shared thoughts until Paula looks up sharply, ‘did you use anything?’

‘Like a condom?’

‘No I mean whips and chains…yes, did you use a condom?’

‘Oh shit,’ Marcy winces, biting her bottom lip, ‘I didn’t even think about it.’

‘Mind you, me and Roy don’t use anything either. Well, I’m sure your babies will be beautiful.’

‘Babies? Who said anything about babies?’

‘That’s what happens when men and women have sex without a condom.’

‘Oh shit, I didn’t…it wouldn’t… would it? From one time? I mean I was on the pill until all this started so maybe that’s still in my system.’

‘It can take a while to wear off,’ Charlie says.

‘God I hope so,’ Marcy says, frowning at the thought.

‘May I ask a question?’ Charlie asks politely.

‘Sure,’ Marcy says.

‘What was it like after? Was it weird or anything?’

‘Oh good question,’ Paula says with approval.

‘Not weird at all, we just lay in the back cuddling with the moon shining down.’

‘In the back of what? The Saxon?’ Paula asks, ‘I hope you cleaned it.’