Blood on the Floor: An Undead Adventure (16 page)

‘Clothes,’ she says after a fashion. ‘You need clothes, come on,’ she heads off back to the farmhouse with a naked but bandaged Paco following dutifully behind.

In the bedrooms upstairs she goes through drawers and wardrobes, pulling out jeans and trousers that would fit his leg length but that are about ten waist sizes too big. She finds boxers and gets him covered. Clean socks go on his feet. A t shirt is tugged down over his head and she guesses he would approve at the way his arms bulge from the sleeves. Still no bottoms though. Everything is way too big and even a belt wouldn’t work with a size difference that great.

The only thing she finds that could work is a pair of blue thick cotton dungaree coveralls with two straps that hook over the shoulders. The waist is quite big but at least they stay up. From there she leads him down to the bathroom and still with her marigold rubber gloves on she uses one of the toothbrushes to clean his teeth. Pushing the bristles into his mouth while leaning away to avoid any spray. He stays as docile as ever, even when she reaches down his dungarees and gets a hand up his t shirt to spray deodorant into his armpits.

She can’t help but smile while leading him back downstairs and outside to find his boots. They too get cleaned and scrubbed then left to dry in the sun. That warm feeling stays and grows as Paco follows her everywhere she goes. Never complaining, never nagging or doing anything but always watching and always scanning.

In the kitchen she moves round the bodies that smell so much worse now Paco is clean and puts a pan of water on the gas stove that thankfully hisses to life. She finds dried pasta and whacks a load in then adds another pan of water to make tea. She goes outside while it heats to clear her nose and stands listening to the birdsong and up at the beautiful open sky. Funny how little things can change a day. It’s still the end of the world. There are dead bodies in the kitchen and another one over there by that building but she’s alive. She smiles at Paco who stares back. He’s not drooling now. She watches him closely, noticing that his head seems to hold a bit higher now and his eyes look sharper, more focussed. She dismisses it with a sigh, putting it down to him being cleaned and dressed. She inhales deeply and catches the scents of toothpaste and fragrance then looks at him for several long seconds in the silence of a morning stretching away.

She eats pasta and tuna mixed with peeled plum tomatoes and drinks hot black tea with sugar. It tastes divine. Paco is fed too but this time he seems to remember what happened last night and takes the food in without issue. He chews too and swallows. She even gets a big glass of water down him without any being spat out.

Suddenly she is done. Paco is washed and clean. Both are fed and watered. She stands in the living room wondering what on earth they should do now. She’s been so busy but it’s been great having something to do. She doesn’t want to stop. She wants more tasks and objectives. She wants to keep washing and fiddling with his clothes and bandages. For a second she considers shaving his jaw but figures the razor will take the scabs off his face.

She could do anything. They probably have some books here. She could make more tea and crash out on the sofa reading something. She could doze, put her feet up and relax but she’s had days of doing that and it’s the last thing she wants. The room becomes too silent, too gloomy and musty and the smells of the bodies seem stronger now. She needs to go outside and do something, go somewhere. Like a new sense of freedom and courage have been found. She has Paco. Paco can kill anything. She saw it yesterday. Not one of them got past him and he’s strong again now. Don’t be absurd. It’s safe here. She looks round the living room that suddenly looks old and belonging to someone else. The carpet is threadbare and worn through. The wallpaper peeling at the corners. Thick dust on every surface and cheap furniture that looks ready to fall apart. She knows in that second she cannot stay here. Besides, other people have been here before her. What if they come back or some other survivors take refuge here. No, she can’t stay here. As an escape it was perfect, as a bolthole it’s great but there’s two corpses in the kitchen and another one outside. Staying here would mean moving them and the idea of that is too disgusting to contemplate. They’ve got what they need so it’s time to go

‘Toothbrush!’ she announces the idea the second it pops in her head. ‘I need a toothbrush,’ she winces as she says it, knowing how ridiculous it sounds. ‘So er…we’ll go get one yeah?’

Seventeen

New shoes on her feet. New bag, now cleaned and stuffed with water on her back. She walks with him up the lane to the cattle grid that he crosses with ease. Which is another thing she notices in his development of motor skills.

The unmade road is shorter today too. She had to push him up it yesterday and it felt like miles but now, striding along with a bounce in her step it only takes a few minutes to reach the end and once more into the country road.

‘This heat,’ she says with a glance across at him. ‘Never felt anything like it. Got to be something to do with this all happening,’ she trails off to think. ‘You know, think of all the planes and cars that were pumping fumes and like gases out.’ She thinks again. ‘Factories, houses…schools…well everything really. They’ve all stopped haven’t they so it must have messed with the weather. Changed it. Having said that, it was bloody hot before this even happened but I’m sure the weather forecast said it was a mini-heatwave which suggests it wasn’t due to keep going.’

They fall into a quietness of feet treading on tarmac and birds singing in the canopy of trees overhead that seem to sag from the oppressive temperature.

‘Want to hear something funny?’ She asks him, glancing across then realising he’s walking at her side instead of behind. Well sort of at her side. At her side but back a bit so he can still see her. Maybe he was just tired yesterday which made him keep falling back. Yeah, that was it.

‘So anyway,’ she says, smiling then looking ahead. ‘I had the chance to train to be a doctor. I didn’t though. Then I thought I would be a blood scientist but changed my mind and thought about being a barrister. Point is, if I
had
trained to be a blood scientist I might have understood what the disease is or the infection or whatever it is. I don’t think doctors would have much of a clue. Not like GP’s anyway, or like most of the doctors in hospitals to be honest. They’re experts alright but in their field and not with stuff like this, you know, like what’s inside you. Mind you, if I did become a blood scientist then I probably wouldn’t have been in the gym on that Friday it happened and would have most likely been eaten by now. Hmmm, which kind of makes it a moot point.’

They walk on with her thumbs hooked in the straps of her bag. Her legs should be stiff and sore from yesterday but instead she feels strangely full of energy. Those long days in the church have done something and made her suddenly hungry to keep moving.

‘Did you always want to be an actor?’ She asks.

Paco doesn’t tell her what his childhood ambitions were.

‘I say actor but it’s hardly acting is it? Not like…er…like De Niro or someone like that. Like Tom Hanks. He’s a proper actor but…no I mean, you know, you’re like a huge Hollywood star and all that and got millions in the bank and…but…still, you were good at what you did I guess. Like snapping peoples necks with the foot thing on the knees. I can’t believe you can do it in real life.’

‘God, the amount of things I wanted be when I was young. It changed like ten times a day. I’d want to be a florist in the morning but by lunch I knew I’d be an astronaut and by bedtime I had my future mapped out as a nurse…always fancied the police, the army was always an option…’

‘I just never settled,’ she admits ruefully. ‘It was like everyone else always knew what they wanted to be but I just figured the answer would one day just pop in my head or just happen. I had good grades and did A Levels but university was so hard. Not hard as in like intellectually challenging but hard to study one thing when my head was like flitting to a hundred different things at once. I changed in the first year too and stopped doing English to study History but then changed to Politics when I realised I was destined to be the Prime Minister but by the next day I was into law and asked to change again. In the end this really nice professor lady gave me a right old lecture and told me to grow up. She was cool though.’

‘Did English in the end,’ she adds after a long silence.

‘Figured I’d be a writer or a journalist,’ she adds after another long silence.

‘Tried writing a book once. Got the first three chapters done then knew I was going to be a war correspondent.’

‘I didn’t become a war correspondent.’

‘I was in foster care,’ she says after a time, with just the slightest drop in tone. ‘I was only young when…I was three. I’ve got this vague memory of her but…nothing happened in foster care, like nothing bad but there was a lot of them. You know, most of them did it for the money and…they thought I’d get adopted but it er…well I didn’t so…’

‘Ha! God I’m waffling on aren’t I.’

‘So like, always moving round and things. New schools and new homes, you know, so I just didn’t settle and then…God you must be so bored listening to me going on.’

‘Never told anyone that before.’

‘Gosh it’s hot isn’t it. Do you want some water? I think I will have some…urgh my back’s all sweaty from the bag. Which one are you using? Er…right you have this blue bottle and we’ll keep it in the plastic bag. I’ve got some anti-bac wipes from the kitchen but let me get the glove on…right open up…that’s it, well done. You’re getting better at drinking…more? You must be thirsty, gosh you’re glugging away like a good ‘un there, Paco. Had enough? Sure? No? Okay, feel better now? You do look better. Right your bottle goes in the bag and mine is here. Ah it’s still quite cool. Right, we’d better keep going. Do you want to carry the bag now? Give me your hand and…right make a fist and hold the strap, close your fingers like this…there, you okay with that? Ah that’s so much better. Just say if you want me to take it.’

‘My mum had a sister but they lost contact when I was born so…I think they tried to trace her but they told me they couldn’t find her. I think they did find her but she said she wasn’t interested. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now does it? Whole world has gone pop and boom so…’

‘My mum was a prostitute.’

‘Bad isn’t it? Being a prostitute I mean. She er, she got into Heroin and…things. I’m not judging her though.’

‘They told me she died from a medical condition when I was young but…well, they told me when I was sixteen what happened. I went to the doctors to go on the pill and the doc had these notes about me being born addicted to Heroin and how I had to be weaned off. I didn’t know anything about it. The doctor was so angry that no one had told me anything. He was the one who got hold of social services and made them release their records to me.’

‘He was a nice man that doctor.’

‘He was gay. I used to see him a lot. Like he’d check on me and make sure I was okay. I think him being gay made me less wary. Like you know, some of the other boys in foster care got a bit touchy gropey sometimes and…’

‘He had a beard and this deep voice. He was quite big too. Not big like you but you know, like corpulent. Doctor Stone. Heathcliff Stone. He said I could call him Cliff.’

‘So yeah. Born addicted to heroin eh? Cor that’s a shit start haha! Still, it’s better than a lot of other people. You know, like people born into famine or poverty and things. Like someone born now. That would be bad. Being born now. Mind you they wouldn’t know any difference would they? We’d remember what the world was like but they’d grow up thinking it was normal.’

‘Is that bag getting heavy? Want me to take it? No? Okay then.’

‘Should get you a sunhat.’

‘Are you hungry? I didn’t bring any food. We’ll find somewhere and get something. Ooh, remind me I need to get a toothbrush. We could do with some more wipes too and some more gloves in case those split. What else? Water definitely. Maybe something sugary like an energy drink? What do you think?’

Paco doesn’t think. He doesn’t understand a word of what she is saying but he listens anyway. He takes in the tone, the softness of it and the way she smiles and looks at him. He doesn’t mind carrying the bag and something in him likes it when she touches him. Her voice, her manner, her touch and just her shifts the gained equilibrium. The urge to bite that was held in check is pushed further away. The memories and flashes of images come back but slower and they stay longer. They’re still too distant to mean anything. He has no conscious thought but conscious thought is only the uppermost layer of the mind.

So she talks. She tells him things she has never told another human being. She laughs at herself and changes subject as her mind flits to jump and grasp new topics and they walk side by side through the country lanes, sweating and red faced they stop frequently to drink water.

She tells him about being in the gym when it happened and what she saw on the news. She explains she loves going to the gym and exercise has probably been the only thing she has ever really stayed committed with. Heather tells him about the church and the awful long days of hiding and how bored she got. It was torture for someone like her to be without mental stimulation, she tells him that too. She tells him everything and the more she tells the more comes out. She doesn’t even flinch when she veers slightly and brushes against his side and during one lengthy explanation she reaches out with her bare hand to touch his arm in emphasis of a point. She tuts when she realises but carries on chatting while taking a wipe from the bag in his hand.

They walk miles, both without realising and both for very different reasons. Past fields that roll away with the undulation of the ground. Past hedges bursting with life. Past old stone walls and over old stone bridges that have gurgling streams underneath. Past trees that tower with canopies that give blessed shade and past entrances to farms set back on unmade roads that get ignored.

The first house on the side of the road they pass is still done so with caution, but less than before. She watches closely and listens but keeps going while edging nearer to the reassuring bulk of Paco striding at her side. She would have taken his hand if it wasn’t such a wholly stupid idea that made her blush for even thinking it. Once past she grins ruefully at Paco and crinkles her nose as if to say
what was that about?