Blog of the Dead (Book 2): Life (10 page)

Entry Eleven

We slipped out once the others had gone to sleep. I gripped my knife tightly as me and Kay crept down the track towards Wear Bay Road in a darkness only slightly softened by the full moon; its light glistened on the tip of Kay’s axe as she held it against her chest.

Our feet sounded like rakes across gravel, no matter how gently we placed them on the track. The night was silent, but no more than the day. The world didn’t give off much sound any more, other than dead feet dragging, groans, and the sound of tearing or slicing flesh … whether fresh or rotting. It’s just that the darkness gave the impression of greater silence.

‘You know your plan is pretty crap,’ whispered Kay.

‘I know, it sucks. But it’s the best I can do,’ I said. ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’

‘Ah, well, I like a challenge.’

‘Sssssh,’ I said. We had just emerged from the track, the road to our right, and to our left, an overgrown field stretched out along the side the cliff and down towards the tennis courts and golf course.

‘What is it?’ asked Kay.

‘Shhhhh!’ I heard the sound of groaning to my right. I squinted into the darkness and I could make out movement a few metres ahead of us. How many zombies were in the road ahead of us, I couldn’t tell. ‘We need to walk through the field,’ I whispered to Kay. ‘Zombies. I don’t think they’ve spotted us, we can go around them.’

Kay gave out a long and rather loud I-don’t-walk-through-long-grass-and-dried-up-brambles-if-I-can-help-it sigh. A zombie snarled, and I saw a dark shape change course and stagger towards us.

‘Ah, now they have,’ I said.

Kay raised her axe and stomped towards the zombie. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness and I could see maybe five more lumbering up behind the now head-split zombie, whose dried up, withered body crumpled to the ground at Kay’s feet. She went for another one, slam dunking her axe down on the top of its head, slicing it in two. Then she was onto the next.

I raised my knife and steamed forwards, even though I felt like a chaperone with my big sister and her date and they’d rather I just pissed off and left them to it. I rammed my knife through a zombie’s ear. Cold, thick, sticky blood splattered onto my hand and I heard the suction pop as I pulled the knife out. I looked around for the next zombie to skewer but all I saw was Kay standing, axe by her side, looking at me, the last two zombies at her feet. ‘There,’ she said, ‘now I don’t have to risk a broken ankle walking through all that shit in the dark.’

I couldn’t help laughing. ‘I love that we’ve reached the stage in our zombie slaying careers that fighting zombies is considered easier than walking through an overgrown field in the dark,’ I said, trying to stifle my laughter for fear of attracting more zombies, or – worse – alert the others back at camp as to what we were up to. Then I remembered the job ahead and my good humour drained away. Kay must have felt the tension too because she managed only the tightest of smiles, just visible in the moonlight.

We crept on down the hill, past the tennis courts and golf course, until we reached the corner of The Durlocks. ‘I can’t believe we’re going to do this,’ Kay whispered to me.

‘Me neither,’ I said. ‘But we have to. Just follow my lead.’

‘It’s right about now I should say something like, “It’s not too late to back out, we haven’t done anything yet. Let’s just forget all this, go back to camp and carry on with our lives just like before” shouldn’t I?’

‘But you don’t say defeatist things like that,’ I said.

Kay nodded to me. ‘True,’ she said, and the pair of us jogged out from behind the hedge and down towards St Andrews.

I could make out a shadowy figure standing at the top of the fire escape inside the car park. When I saw the end of a cigarette glow brightly as the figure took a drag on it, I knew it had to be Max. ‘Who’s there?’ he said on hearing our feet pounding the pavement. He flicked the butt of his cigarette into the car park, switched on a torch and shone its small beam in our direction.

‘Max, it’s Sophie and Kay,’ I said squinting against the light in my eyes. I tried to sound panicked but kept my voice low so as not to wake anyone inside. ‘Our camp … the others … me and Kay were the only ones who …’

Max clanged down the fire escape and I cringed at the racket his booted feet made. ‘No fucking way,’ he said and he shoved the torch under his arm as he fumbled with the lock on the gate. ‘Zombies?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Our camp’s gone, Max,’ I sobbed – total Oscar nominee stylee. ‘Everyone’s dead.’

‘It was terrible,’ added Kay and I shot her a look.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry,’ said Max. He halted, key in the lock and looked up at me, running a hand over his shaved head. ‘You’re not … neither of you got …’ He looked from me to Kay.

‘We’re not bitten,’ said Kay.

Max nodded and carried on with opening the gate. ‘Sorry. I have to check,’ he said, pulling the gate open.

‘No worries,’ I said. ‘But we need help – shelter,’ I added, believing myself so much that a tear ran down my cheek.

‘Yeah, no problem. You got it,’ said Max. He turned his back to me and Kay, locked the gate and slipped the keys into his pocket. ‘Hang on and –’ Kay put her arm around his neck from behind and held him in an arm lock, even though she stood half a foot shorter than him. She held the blade of her axe to the side of his face. ‘What the fuck …?’ The torch fell from under Max’s arm to clatter on the tarmac. I clenched my teeth at the sound, hoping no one inside had heard it.

Before Max had a chance to react further, I raised the tip of my knife to his throat. ‘Don’t say another word. Hand me that crowbar.’

‘Fucking mental bitches,’ said Max. ‘What’re you doing?’

‘I said don’t say another fucking word!’ I hissed. Max hesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he glared at me. I worried he was going to be difficult but he pulled his crowbar from his belt and held it out to me. Without taking my eyes off him, I took it in my free hand. ‘Keep your hands where I can see them. Don’t try and struggle or this will go through your jugular,’ I said, hoping to fuck he didn’t call my bluff. ‘You won’t be the first human I’ve killed,’ I added in a vain attempt to avoid him calling my bluff. Max didn’t know me well enough to know I’m a big softy who once saved a worm from drying to death on tarmac in the sun. And I had killed humans, just not nice, friendly ones. Max nodded very carefully, what with having an axe and the tip of a knife so close to vital pieces of flesh.

‘All we want is Sean. Is he still alive?’ I asked. Max nodded, but as his eyes bored into mine I could see a challenge in them. ‘Do you know where he is?’ Max didn’t move. ‘If you don’t know where he is, you’re useless to me and I’ll kill you and find someone else that does.’ Despite his attempt at bravado, I saw a lump in Max’s throat as he gulped. Shit, he was buying this. ‘Now, do you know where he is?’ I asked again. Max nodded. ‘Is there anyone on guard in there?’

Max shook his head ‘no’, a barely visible movement. ‘OK. Walk. And remember this blade won’t be far from your throat.’ Max staggered towards the side entrance of St Andrews, his movements hampered by Kay hanging around his neck. ‘My keys,’ he said, stopping in front of the door. ‘In my pocket.’

I put the crowbar between my legs and slipped my hand into his pocket and pulled out a large set of keys. I handed them to Max, not really wanting to figure out which was the right one myself. He selected a silver Yale key and slid it into the lock. ‘And you’ll need that.’ He lightly kicked something on the ground, in the corner by the door. I looked down and saw a gas lamp, the type you take camping. I ducked down and swiped it up, my blade barely leaving his throat. I turned it on and lit it with my lighter, the glow illuminated the contempt in Max’s face.

I reorganised myself so I held the crowbar and gas lamp in my left hand and my knife, at Max’s throat, with my right. Max turned the door handle and I pushed the door open with my right shoulder so Max and Kay could go through ahead of me. I closed the door, careful not to make any noise and took my position back beside Max. Despite having Kay hanging around his neck, Max did his best to swagger along the hallway to the stairway and he headed down, towards the basement. I noticed his eyes flicking constantly in my direction and I had the feeling I was being sized up.

We walked along a narrow corridor. I held the gas lamp up, level with my shoulder, and saw the corridor was lined with closely spaced doors painted in pale green. Each door was numbered, the numbers corresponding, I guessed, to the flats above and probably housed small store rooms. We turned right at the end, into another corridor with more of the same. Max stopped outside a door halfway down on the left. This door had no number on it and had a few metres more space on the right between it and the next door along. Max fiddled with the keys and selected a small brass one with a piece of red tape on it. He slid it into the lock and turned it, while I lowered my knife and used that hand to turn the handle. I shoved the door open with my right shoulder. ‘Inside,’ I said to Max and he shot me a look of disdain as Kay bundled him into the room ahead of her.

As I followed them inside, I held the gas lamp out before me and saw we were in a small storeroom, old boxes piled up in the corners, some broken furniture. And in the centre of the room, tied to a chair with rope, his chest bare and a piece of duck tape over his mouth, sat Sean. His eyes were closed and his head hung to the side. I noticed the gash on his forehead he’d sustained in the car crash had reopened and it oozed blood; I couldn’t tell where it ended and the fresh cuts he had gained since being here began. His right eye was swollen and surrounded by a vivid black and purple bruise. Blood ran down his chest from cuts on his body.

I put the back of the hand holding my knife to my mouth in an attempt to stifle my shock.

‘The fucking bastards!’ said Kay. Sean’s eyes shot open and he lifted his head, his eyes widening for a moment as they flicked between me and Kay, before he gave a slightest nod of his head in my direction.

Kay released Max and made a move to Sean. ‘Watch him,’ I said, halting her and I pointed my knife towards Max. With Kay holding her axe to Max’s throat, I darted forwards, crouched down and placed the gas lamp and crowbar on the floor at Sean’s feet. I used my knife to cut the rope around his left ankle.

‘You’re making a big mistake,’ said Max.

‘Shut up,’ I said without turning around.

‘Sophie, the bloke’s a low life fucking murderer,’ Max continued.

‘I said, shut up!’ I cut through the rope around his right ankle, then I stood to free his wrists. Finally, I pulled off the duck tape, revealing a swollen and busted lip underneath. Sean yelped as the tape ripped the skin open a little further.

‘Took your time,’ he croaked. He attempted a smile but winced.

‘And you can shut it too,’ I said. I spotted Sean’s t-shirt and coat in a bundle on the floor, picked them up and tossed them to him, where they landed across his lap. I stooped and snatched up the gas lamp, and turned to Max, pointing my knife level with his throat. ‘You, stay here,’ I said, side stepping around him so that eventually my back faced the door. Kay lowered her axe and darted over to Sean. She helped him into his t-shirt and coat before sliding her arm around his waist. But before he let her help him to his feet, Sean learned forwards and swiped the crowbar off the floor. With Kay’s help, the pair of them edged across the room towards me.

Max didn’t move. ‘We were wrong about you,’ he said to me, shaking his head. ‘You’re a fucking psycho.’

‘Whatever,’ I said and I passed the gas lamp into the hand that held the knife and thrust my free hand out to Max, palm up. ‘Give me the keys,’ I said.

Max didn’t move.

‘Keys!’

Max shook his head slowly, before leaning forwards and slamming the keys into the palm of my hand. Kay had already supported Sean through the door and I backed out of the room. I shut and locked the door, and shoved the keys into my pocket. Max began shouting and pounding on the back of the door straight away. I jogged on ahead, down the corridor, while Kay and Sean staggered behind me, trying to keep up. Around the corner I ran into Josh, his wide eyes staring at me from a mop of straggly black hair. We stared at each other for a moment, each one trying to work out the social etiquette of this awkward situation. As Josh’s expression of shock morphed into a grimace of anger, Sean lunged forwards and punched him in the jaw. Josh hit the floor and the three of us staggered down the corridor, up the steps and out of the building.

No time for unlocking and relocking the gate out onto the street. I climbed over it, pausing to retrieve the keys to the building from my pocket and toss them over the gate and into the car park. Kay practically threw Sean over the gate and sprang over it herself and we ran together, down through The Durlocks and down to the harbour. Sean hobbled and struggled to keep up with me. Kay didn’t leave his side.

‘This way,’ said Sean and he pointed up the Old High Street. I had switched off the gas lamp so as not to draw attention to ourselves, but I held onto it as we scarpered up the street, into town. At the top of Rendezvous Street, we turned right, then on until we reached the main road, over the road and down one of the streets off it. I worried how much longer Sean could manage, when he stopped in front of a three story town house in a part of town I wasn’t familiar with. ‘Home sweet home,’ he croaked.