Blog of the Dead (Book 1): Sophie (29 page)

Misfit lowered the gun, just a little. A little more. I took a step towards Misfit. I wanted that gun. I wanted to shoot Caine in the face. I took another step. ‘No, stay back!’ said Misfit, raising the gun.

Caine, Trent and Eddie darted in through the French doors just as the first zombies staggered up the driveway towards the house. Caine closed the door, and the three of them taunted the approaching zombies by waving their arms around. Eddie pulled up his grubby t-shirt revealing an ample, hairy belly. ‘Come and get it, zombie fucks!’ he said. His vast belly could keep one zombie happy for days.

Zombies lumbered through the overgrown front garden, stumbling over flowerbeds, and they staggered up the driveway, bumping into the Mazda and the Land Rover.

‘What have you done?’ I asked, turning to Caine. ‘What was the bloody point of that? How are we going to get out for supply runs? How long do you think it’ll be before they get in here?’

‘Relax. That’s what the petrol bombs are for,’ said Caine, nodding to the work surface at the other end of the kitchen. ‘We’re just going to have a little bit of fun. Then we’ll burn the fuckers, ok? No harm done.’

‘What sort of fun?’ asked Sam.

Trent and Eddie sniggered. I looked at Misfit but he avoided my eye and looked at his feet.

‘This sort of fun,’ said Caine, looking at us in turn. He moved forwards and grabbed Charlotte by the wrist. Trent grasped her free arm and together they dragged her towards the door. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said Caine, putting on a commentator’s voice, ‘it is with great pleasure that I introduce round one of human vs zombie.’ Eddie opened the door and Charlotte screamed. Me, Kay, Sam and Stewart all charged forwards, but Misfit raised the gun at us, and before we could do a thing, Caine and Trent shoved Charlotte outside into the zombies and closed the door behind her.

8th June, 2.40pm
Charlotte turned and hurled herself against the door. ‘LET ME IN!’ she yelled as she pounded her fists against the toughened glass. Caine smirked and locked the door, pocketing the keys.

‘Let her in,’ said Kay. Ignoring the gun that Misfit pointed at her, she grabbed Caine’s arm and pulled him round so that he faced her. ‘Give me the bloody keys,’ she said.

Caine laughed, pulled his arm away and turned back to watch Charlotte. She spun round as a zombie placed its rotten hand on her shoulder.

‘You can’t do this, you fucking psycho,’ I shouted at Caine.

‘Ah, now, come on. You people must find this zombie apocalypse crap as boring as me. This is top class entertainment. Two packets of cigs say she won’t last one minute.’

‘I bet she’ll do two minutes, easy,’ said Trent, scratching his short, bleached hair. ‘Perky one like that.’

Zombies surrounded Charlotte. She stood with her left leg behind her, and her hands raised to chest hight in front of her. She watched the zombies. One grabbed her left arm. Charlotte swung her left leg forwards in a high kick, her foot connecting with the side of the zombie’s head. The impact smashed the zombie’s skull, and Charlotte used her other foot to kick the body into the crowd, pushing them back. Another zombie lunged for her, and she kicked it in the stomach. Moving towards the zombies, Charlotte punched one in the face, karate chopped another in the neck and did a cool spinning-kick move on the next zombie. Another kick … another punch … Zombies fell. One went flying over Charlotte’s head to crash against the French doors, making everyone but Caine jump.

By the time Charlotte reached the Mazda, I knew that Caine had already lost his cigarettes. Charlotte high kicked a zombie that stood in front of the car’s door, and grabbed it by its blood soaked shirt collar before it could slump to the ground. Charlotte span the body round and hurled it at the other zombies, knocking some down. They’d been pushed back far enough so that she could open the driver’s side door of the Mazda, and throw herself inside. Zombies surged forwards as Charlotte slammed the door. They banged their decomposing fists against the glass. Everything happened so fast. I just hoped she got inside the Mazda without getting bit.

‘Well, isn’t that just shit?’ said Caine. ‘I feel … unsatisfied. Looks like I’m going to have to get my fun some other way.’

18th June, 4.50pm
I could see fury in Caine’s eyes that he hadn’t got to see Charlotte torn to pieces. And when those furious eyes fixed on me, I felt exposed. Caine yanked the shotgun from Misfit’s hands. ‘Upstairs,’ he growled at us. ‘Everyone, upstairs. Now!’ Nobody moved. I glanced behind Caine to look outside. Zombies surrounded the Mazda and I could no longer see Charlotte. I hoped that the car would hold against all those rotten bodies pushing against it. ‘Are you lot deaf?’ said Caine. ‘I said MOVE!’

Trent, with Kay’s axe, and Eddie, with Stewart’s sword, advanced either side of Caine. Reluctantly, me and the others turned and dragged our feet towards the kitchen door.

‘What are you going to do to us?’ I asked as we climbed the stairs, herded like sheep. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Caine smirk up at me, the shotgun pointed at my head.

‘Ooo, maybe they’re going to drop us out the bedroom window one by one and watch as we try to crawl away from the zombies on useless, broken limbs,’ said Stewart. ‘Ouch!’ he said as Kay slapped him around the head.

‘Don’t give them any bloody ideas!’ she said.

‘That is a very good idea, mate. Thanks,’ said Caine as we reached the top of the stairs. ‘Might do that later.’

‘Ouch!’ said Stewart. This time it was me, Kay and Sam that slapped him.

‘But there’s something else I want to do first,’ continued Caine. We’d reached our bedroom door, where me, Kay, Sam, Stewart and Charlotte get locked up each night. ‘Inside,’ said Caine, nodding towards the door. ‘Not you,’ he said, grabbing my forearm and pulling me back onto the landing. He pressed the muzzle of the shotgun to my temple.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Sam, turning to Caine. He stood in the doorway, Kay and Stewart already inside the room ahead of him.

‘Lock ‘em up,’ Caine said to Trent and Eddie, ignoring Sam. Caine let go of my arm, pulled the bundle of keys from his pocket and threw them to Trent, who caught them in his right hand, the axe in his left.

‘Oi! I said, what’s going on?’ yelled Sam. ‘What are you going to do to her?’ Trent and Eddie held Sam back, while Misfit loitered behind them. Sam paid no attention to the deadly weapons that Trent and Eddie held up to block him, his arms reaching towards me.

‘Get in your room like a good little boy,’ said Caine. ‘And I might let you out to play later.’

‘Don’t you fucking hurt her,’ said Sam, straining against the two thugs.

‘Oh fuck this,’ said Eddie and he punched Sam in the jaw, knocking him backwards. Eddie shut the door and Trent locked it, throwing the keys back to Caine. He slipped them into his pocket and grasped my elbow.

As Caine dragged me further up the landing, the muzzle of the shot gun pressed against my temple – warning me not to fight back – I could hear fists pounding against the door from the other side, while Sam, Kay and Stewart shouted a tirade of abuse and threats that blended into frenzied nonsense.

I wanted to cry – to cry and beg for Caine not to hurt me. But I knew that would only make this more
entertaining
for him. So I held my fear in and walked with as much dignity that my trembling legs could manage. Caine shoved me into one of the bedrooms. I tripped and fell onto the floor. The room stank of stale body odour, beer and cigarettes – it stank of Caine.

He kicked the door shut, muffling the sound of shouting from down the landing. He rested the shotgun against the wall to his right. In two strides he had a handful of my hair and pulled me up and back towards the king size bed behind me. Sod dignity – I kicked and punched like a
Tekken
character on speed. But Caine was strong and my blows were uncoordinated and badly timed, and he threw me down onto the bed. I tried to roll away but he caught my wrists, raised them above my head and pressed down on them. He straddled me, pinning me to the bed. ‘Wild thing, aren’t you?’ he said as I struggled. ‘I like it.’

I went still. Not just to annoy Caine, but I knew I couldn’t get free and I was only exhausting myself. Better to conserve my energy and wait for his guard to be down. The bedroom door flew open. Both me and Caine looked to the door in surprise. Misfit. He stood in the doorway just staring at us. ‘Ha, you here to watch and learn, kid?’ said Caine. ‘Come on over.’

I wondered if this was my opportunity to fight back, what with Caine’s attention on Misfit. But Misfit spotted the gun against the wall to his right. He picked it up by the barrel and took a couple of uncertain steps towards the bed, stopping a few feet away.

‘You don’t mind do you, sweetheart,’ said Caine, turning back to me.

Shit! If having Caine’s disgusting, stinking body on top of mine wasn’t bad enough, now we had a fucking audience. Mousy little Misfit. Would he have a go next? Fuck, why not call in Trent and Eddie too. Let’s have a fucking gang bang.

Misfit raised the gun. ‘Get off her, Caine,’ he said, pointing it at the back of Caine’s head.

‘What the fuck, Misfit?’ said Caine, without looking round. He almost laughed the words.

‘I said get off her.’ Misfit held the gun steady but I could see in his eyes that he was nervous.

‘Don’t be stupid, kid. Put the gun down and fuck off, there’s a good boy.’

‘No!’ Misfit turned the gun around so that he held the barrel and he swung the butt into the side of Caine’s head. I didn’t think the skinny teenager had it in him, but the blow knocked Caine right off me. I rolled off the bed and ran round to stand beside Misfit. We both watched as Caine rocked back and forth on the bed, holding his head, groaning. ‘Come on, let’s get you out of here,’ said Misfit.

Before we could go anywhere, Caine leapt towards us. ‘MISFIT!’ he roared, blood pouring down the side of his face. ‘I’m going to kill –’ Misfit span the gun around, raised it and fired. Our very last bullet hit Caine in the chest and his body slid off the end of the bed to land at our feet.

The look of shock on Misfit’s face lasted only moments before it turned to relief. ‘We need to get out of here,’ he said, lowering the gun.

‘Wait,’ I said, and I crouched beside Caine’s body. I slipped my fingers into his trouser pocket and pulled out the keys. I held them up to Misfit. ‘We’ll need these,’ I said. Misfit nodded, then his eyes settled on something behind me. I turned my head to see a black holdall underneath the window. Misfit sprang past me and grabbed it, flinging it onto his shoulder.

We darted out the door onto the landing. I could hear Trent and Eddie’s alarmed shouts from somewhere downstairs. We had to be quick. Unlocking the bedroom/prison door, the first thing I saw inside the room was Sam’s face. He had the start of a bruise on his jaw. His wide eyes softened at the sight of me.

‘Sophie! I thought … when I heard the shot … I didn’t … I –’

‘I’m ok,’ I said as he threw himself at me, knocking me back against the door frame.

‘He didn’t …’

‘He didn’t do anything,’ I said, pushing Sam off me. I could hear feet pounding through the hallway below – Trent and Eddie were on their way. ‘We’ve got to move,’ I said.

‘Caine?’ asked Kay as she came out onto the landing.

‘Dead,’ I confirmed.

‘Wait here,’ said Misfit, flinging the holdall at me. ‘But be ready.’ He left us outside the bedroom and bolted down the stairs, still clutching the empty shotgun. I unzipped the holdall – an assortment of our weapons. I handed a claw hammer to Sam, a knife to Kay and Stewart in turn, and a knife for myself, then zipped up the holdall and slid it onto my shoulder.

‘What’s going on up there, Misfit?’ I heard Trent’s voice from the stairway.

‘Nothing. It’s cool, guys. Caine wants you to …’ I heard a whack and a thud, and Eddie’s voice yelling, ‘What the fuck!’ and Misfit shouting, ‘Stay back, Eddie,’ and I knew it was our cue to move.

‘Go!’ I said to the others. I ducked back inside the bedroom, thrust my knife through my belt, grabbed my laptop and followed the others down the stairs. Misfit stood halfway down the staircase. He had the shotgun in one hand and the axe in the other, while Trent, his temple pouring with blood, sat on the step below him. Trent began using the wall to lever himself up. Eddie stood a few steps down, Stewart’s sword raised in front of him, his wide, startled eyes indicating that his brain was trying to process events but failing. Sam, Kay and Stewart stood behind Misfit.

‘What’s going on, Misfit?’ said Eddie. ‘Where-where’s Caine?’

‘Caine’s dead,’ said Misfit. ‘Now back up and let us go.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ said Trent, now standing in front of Misfit.

‘Believe it,’ said Kay. She took a couple of steps down, eased her way past Misfit and punched Trent in the nose. Trent’s arms flew out to steady himself but Misfit shoved the butt of the shot gun into his chest and he fell backwards, crashing into Eddie and the pair tumbled down the stairs. Misfit held the axe out to Kay. ‘Thanks,’ she said, glad to be reunited with her weapon and stuffed the knife through her belt. We all bolted down the stairs towards the kitchen. Stewart stopped, tossed his knife away and pulled his sword from Eddie’s hand just as he began to regain consciousness.

In the kitchen Sam dashed towards the sink, shoved his claw hammer through his belt and picked up three of the petrol bombs, clutching the glass bottles like a precious round of beers. Kay followed him and grabbed the last one. I reached the French doors first, closely followed by Misfit, and, with my laptop under my left arm, I unlocked the doors just as I heard Eddie yell something unintelligible from the hallway. The front garden was full of zombies, most of them huddled around the Mazda, while others staggered about the drive and lawn, looking for something to do, but too braindead to find it. I pulled a lighter out of my jeans pocket and held it out to Sam. He passed two of the petrol bombs to Misfit, who discarded the shotgun to take them. Sam held the remaining one firmly in his left hand and snatched the lighter from me.