the last day

The tree house was well built, sturdy with a hidden trapped door that could lock from the inside. A balcony wrapped around it. The friends were standing on the balcony, lagers in hand chatting about the weather, how English of them. It was a hot day, about 1 pm. The group glistened with sweat. There were four of them, Abbie who was petite but tough. A tomboy. William, Tall, strong a natural leader. John a rotund boy with thick glasses and an asthma inhaler addiction and Wendy slightly smaller than William but taller that the others, a gymnast.

The four had not be friends for long, only two days. They were already becoming friends for life. Wendy leaned her back against the wooden railing and stretched her neck. her t-shirt rose showing her toned belly. John got a sly dig in the ribs off William who had noticed Johns eyes slip to the exposed flesh. Abbie giggled nervously, Wendy rolled her eyes.

“Horn dog” she said good naturedly to him. She put her t-shirt back in place and looked out into the street, not really seeing anything just looking into the middle distance while she thought.

At 3 pm, William was the first to react to the man walking along street. He walked at a slow pace, like he was just meandering along on a lazy day with nowhere to go. He walked hunched over looking at his feet or watching the road. The four stayed still, no one moved or made a sound. One person on the road was fine. But, where there was one, others normally followed. The man broke the rule though, not another figure followed him. William took him down with his air rifle. It was like the bones softened with time and allowed easy passage to the brain. John got out the crudely drawn map and started to plan their food taking for the day. Because this was only day 5 they had managed to find food and tins in house cupboards near the tree house. They went out once a day, taking care to not take too much to make escape easier if they were seen. They had no long term plan. They had discussed it. They would either be saved or die. This was not the walking dead. None of them had any survival skills.

“Wendy, It’s your turn.” William said, she nodded, keeping watch on the street. John pushed his glasses up his wet nose and took a puff on his inhaler.

“I think the house I went to yesterday had bread in the freezer and we still have nutella. they had tinned beans, hot dogs, meatballs in the cupboard, but we need to find liquid. The Johnson’s had kids, if you can get there see if there is some pop, I don’t think a lager diet is healthy.”

“who cares, its not like we can survive much longer anyway.”

Abbie said whilst opening another can. William glared at her. She was a loose cannon. They had found her hiding with a sword, a BB gun and 5 crates of lager. The weapons suggested she was not suicidal, so they had asked if she wanted to join them. They had soon found out that she had crippling anxiety and drank to drown out the life hat scared her. William was surprised she had not been on of the many suicides that had happened quickly after the general public had found out that the virus had gotten out of control. She seemed to be stronger in her mind than she thought. That didn’t stop her from being an alcoholic idiot. she never drank herself to drunkenness, Which William was thankful for but sometimes he mistrusted her judgement.

Wendy had moved to look at the map to plan her route. She told her plan to William and John. John would accompany her down and stand guard, William would watch with the air rifle from the tree house and Abbie would watch with the BB gun. Wendy declined a knife, as she had back up and she needed her hands. John grabbed Wendy’s sword as protection and they headed down to go ‘shopping’.

William and Wendy had decided that, as they were the strongest in the group they would always pair up with one of the weaker ones. John and Abbie didn’t really mind this suggestion as is kept them safer.

John left Wendy around the corner from the house. That had been the plan so Wendy always had eyes on her, keeping her safe.

She rounded the fence on the house and checked behind her once to make sure john was in the correct position, then she turned back. She knew it was best to be aware of her surroundings and keep her eyes forward. She walked quickly and quietly. Straining her ears to hear the slightest sound. She could see the key in the backdoor. The things didn’t have the dexterity to turn or grip the key so the group could go in and out as they pleased.

Natural light filtered through the house she found the freezer, it still hummed. That was good it meant that the electricity had not been turned off yet. If anyone was still around to turn it off anymore. she retrieved the bread and looked in the fridge, there was a pack of ham. she placed the bread and ham on the nearest bench and found some shopping bags. Then she looked in all the cupboards for tinned food. she grabbed four tins of beans and sausages. That would have to do for this house if she needed to find some liquid from another. She grabbed the bag tightly trying not to let the plastic rustle. That, would give away her position. She left out the door she had come through and locked it behind her, more out of habit than safety.

The large backdoor garden had a gate that led into the next door house. She decided to try there first before venturing farther towards the house with children that had been mentioned. The back door was open door steamers flapping in the soft wind. She listened for any sounds in the house, she heard none so she cautiously entered into the kitchen. Closing and locking the door behind her. On the counter top was a bottle of coca cola and a bottle of Fanta, She grabbed the Fanta thinking the orange drink would be nicer in the heat. She winced at the noise of the bag opening and placed in the bottle. The hairs on the back of her neck raised and a feeling of dread washed over her. She couldn’t hear it. She couldn’t see it. She just knew it was there.

She turned and saw him/it. Mid to late 20’s, Tall, Muscular. He wore shorts with no top, no shoes. He had a chunk out of his neck, like a vampire bite gone wrong. His mouth was bloody. He leered at her. She tensed, ready. A block of knives was beside her. She twitched towards them, the thing growled. She moved lashing her hand out to grab a knife like a viper going to attack it’s prey, then pirouetted around the lunging thing just out of reach. They stood opposite each other again. It was agitated now. She glanced down at the knife and groaned inwardly. It was a paring knife. If she got out of this alive she was going to petition for knife handles to reflect blade size.

He stepped forward, she stepped back, hitting a bench. She had two options. Fight in the kitchen or run into the house. She cursed herself for locking the door. These things were fast when the wanted to be, she wouldn’t have time to unlock it and get out. Running into the house meant the possibility of finding more of these things, plus she didn’t know the layout. She had also seen enough horror films to know that only idiots run up the stairs when chased. She couldn’t scream to alert the others as this would draw more of the…of the. Sod it she thought they are zombies. it was stupid to call them anything else. The zombie lunged again, she dodged, she couldn’t keep this up all day. She slashed out with the knife hoping to distract it. The zombie just stepped forward into the slash, The knife disappeared into its chest. She let go in shock and backed into a wall. It got closer, she felt dead breath on her face. She saw the nothing in his eyes. She brought her hands up to push it away. It grabbed her shoulders and sunk it’s teeth into her throat, the same way as he had been bit when he was alive. Her eyes widened, her legs gave way and she and the Zombie slid to the floor. The Zombie enjoying his lunch, Wendy Hoping she didn’t turn, It was the last thought she would ever think.

John felt like he had been keeping watch for hours. He hated being on watch. It was confusingly both boring and terrifying. He shifted his grip on the sword. Sweaty palms were not good to hold it with. He was too scared to move. He had a bad feeling that Wendy had been gone too long, he didn’t know what to do. He stood from his crouch to stretch. He had seen her break the plan and go to the house next door, rather than the house across the street that he could see. At least he had seen the gate move, he hoped it had been her. He knew he had to check. He took a deep breath, chest tight. It was time to be brave.

He walked to the gate connecting the two gardens. The fence and gate were too tall to see over. He put his hand on the round latch and twisted to open it. The garden was well maintained. Streamers from the door where half in and half out. He tried the door, locked. He walked to the window and peered in. There was a man crouched on the floor over something red. He was eating, John could tell by the movements of his hands scooping something then taking it to his mouth. John watched in macabre fascination. Then he noticed the legs. What had been light blue jean cut-offs, now covered with gore. The feet covered by white trainers. Wendy. He backed away, scared. Lager bubbled at the back of his throat, he leaned to the side and vomited. There was nothing he could do. The door was locked, the thing trapped. but, Wendy. Was she dead? or worse, undead? He wiped his mouth, unsure of what to do now. He should report back to the others. He reached into his jean front pocket and grabbed his inhaler, a deep puff calmed his growing panic. What was the quickest route back to the tree house. The sword he had leaned on the brick work fell with a clatter on the patio. He looked at the sword then back to the window. The man was looking at him. Eyes bright, mouth covered with Wendy’s insides. The man walked to the window and banged on it loudly. Trying to get at John, like a fly trying to escape from a house. John screamed and fell back onto his ample behind. He scrambled for the sword and picked it up. If others were near they would have heard his scream. He hoped it had carried to the tree house. He picked himself up and ran.

Out the gate into the street, they emerged. John screamed again, the sword felt heavy in his hand. If he could get within sight of the tree house he would have back up. He ran through the the people in varying stages of decomposition. One reached for him, he felt the scratch pierce his skin. He grabbed the sword in both hands and swung in the direction the grab had come from. The head fell from the body and hit the ground with a sickening thunk. The Zombies crowded, their number growing. Johns blood was flowing more than a normal cut should have. John knew the lore. He was dead already, his body would register the fact soon. He screamed again, this time a war cry. He gripped the sword tightly and swung around in a circle, like a child trying to make themselves dizzy.

William and Abbie had heard the screams, they were both on high alert. John had not made it far enough for them to see him. They had all discussed the protocol, whoever was in the tree house couldn’t leave.

“There!” Abbie shouted, she pointed to where John was running towards them. William and Abbie began firing. In their panic most shots went wide of the mark, A head was a small target from the height.

“We have to go down” William said

“We can’t, we discussed it. The best chance for survival is to stay here.”

“Wendy isn’t there!”

“Then she is probably dead!”

William walked towards the hatch and started to open it. Abbie rounded on him, BB gun pointed at his face.

“If you go down there you are on your own, or I can spare you the fight and kill you now. Either way if you go down, you will not come back up.”

“You are a heartless bitch.”

“No. I’m a survivor.”

William threw back the bolt and descended to the street. Abbie locked it behind him cursing, then reloaded her gun and went back to shooting at the zombies.

By the time William got to the street John was dead. The group of people had torn him apart. William used Johns body as a distraction and headed in the direction Wendy had gone. He saw the open gate between the houses and made the connection of where Wendy had gone. Unlike John he looked in the window before trying the door. He saw Wendy Propped up against the wall. Her t-shirt was bloody and her throat was a mess. she was dead, his eyes clouded with tears at his fallen friend. Then, she blinked. She was alive. His heart soared. He ran to the door. locked. Back to the window, he used the butt of the gun to smash it and he climbed in to save her.

“Wendy!” he crouched over her as she sat groaning, though the thought Zombie flashed though his mind.

“There’s no such thing as zombies.” he said out loud. He put his arm around her and lifted her up. She let him help her. She stood, her arms around his shoulders.

“I’ll get you help” he said. He looked into her eyes and saw nothing, no look of recognition crossed her face. oh, fuck. he thought. He pulled his head away in time to miss the majority of her bite, only her teeth grazed his neck. He pushed her away, aimed the air gun and shot her point blank in the face. He heard a noise to his side and swung the gun. The man who had been feeding on Wendy stood in front of him. He quickly reloaded and William shot him too. His head exploded like a water balloon filled with red paint. Tears streamed down his face, he was too scared to see if Wendy’s teeth had broken his skin. He stood in the kitchen unsure of what to do next. He decided to see if Abbie would stick to her threat that he would not be allowed back in the tree house. He unlocked the door and stepped out.

It really was a nice garden. There was a small rockery with two good sized rocks with googly eyes stuck on them. Neat writing in sharpie said ‘Elizabeth’s pet rock’. The other next to it in bad handwriting said ‘Jane’s pet rock’. William walked away from the watching rocks and out onto the street. There were more of them. Drawn by the scent of blood and gun shots. He reloaded again and held up the gun to defend himself, the people, things, zombies just stared at him not moving. He put his hand to his neck and looked, blood. He was one of them and they knew it. That was why they were not moving. He looked to the tree house and saw Abbie looking down. she caught his eye and raised her BB gun. He shook his head. He would go out on his own terms, he had been stupid to leave the safety of the tree house. He he put the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Abbie watch him die. She felt nothing, she hadn’t really know the group. She was new to the area. She looked at the hoards of zombies on the street. She had never been naive enough to believe them to have been anything else. If she stayed quiet they would leave. she checked her magazine, it was full, then she opened a can and watched them. Four crates of lager and an almost full tub of ammo were beside her. There was no food and she was the only one left. It was going to be a fun few days.

The sun set on the final afternoon on the lives of three brave people, sometimes caution survives longer than bravery.