I Dream of Zombies (18 page)

Marla nudged Tommy and he
decided not to ask the obvious question. “What time is it?” Ellen asked Ellen.

“Ten thirty,” answered Marla. “We should just get going.”

She slid across into the passenger seat, allowing Tommy to take the driver’s position, while Ellen sat behind her sister and Devan alongside. Tommy activated the central locking. “I know it’s hot, but I’m not opening the windows,” he insisted.

Everyone nodded. “Reasonable reques
t,” said Devan, glancing out.

Tommy
considered the youth through the rear-view mirror for a second longer than was necessary and then started the engine. He drove forwards, weaving through the multi-coloured carpet of parked cars until he gained clear motorway.

“I know it means
a longer drive, but I think it’s safer to keep to the big roads. I reckon we should stay on the M25 until Enfield and then once we’ve picked up the jeep, double-back this way and take the M11 down to my place. What do you think?” he asked.

Marla nodded and smiled. “I think it’s wise.”

“You’re calling me wise?”

Her smile spread
into a grin. “Now don’t get cocky there!”

“I’ll take my compliments where I can get them,” said
Tommy with a laugh before focusing on the road. On the way they passed two coaches and that was it. Still, it was more than he had been expecting. Within half an hour, he reached the evacuation point and car park. The long queues of people had long gone, and the area was dotted by soldiers and police. The tents were still there, however.

“Do you think more people will come?” asked Ellen.

“I was wondering that too,” Marla replied, “but Simon said our coach was one of the last to leave here, so I don’t know.”

“I don’t like the way the soldiers are looking at me,” Tommy remarked as he
parked the car.

The words were barely out of his mouth when two policemen approached. One of them gestured for Tommy to wind down his window, which he did. “Everything alright?”
he asked.

“What are you doing here?”
the officer questioned him sternly.

“We came to collect our jeep
,” Tommy answered. “There’s a coach parked back at the junction of the M11 and M25, waiting for an army escort. We just drove here to pick up the rest of our things and extra food for the people on the coach. It seemed the safest thing to do. Is that alright?”

The policeman glanced in the back at Ellen and Devan, and then at Marla before looking Tommy in the eye steadily. He
then straightened up and glanced at his colleague. “Can you check on the coach?”

The other man nodded and spoke into his radio. After a few minutes, he turned it off. “There’
s a coach there waiting.”

“Right,” said the first officer, turning to Tommy. “Your story checks out, so I’d hurry along if I were you. Don’t leave your vehicle unless you
really have to and if the coach is gone, drive back here and we’ll make sure you are taken somewhere safely.”

“Thanks,” Tommy replied.

“Yes, thank you for your help,” Marla added with a smile.

“You’re welcome, madam. Now please be
on your way. We have to check everyone that comes here. Good luck.” With that the officer left them to it.

Without waiting to be asked twice, the group got out of the car and carried their belongings to the jeep. Marla slid into the driver’s seat
while everyone else got comfortable, and she drove off. In no time at all, they reached their starting point, and turned on to the M11 with minimal small talk, each of them feeling apprehensive about what lay ahead.

“Look!” exclaimed Marla, spotting a white van ahead of them. “It’s coming this way. We’re not the only ones.”

“Wonder where he’s coming from?” Tommy answered. When he neared the other vehicle he honked his horn.

The van slowed down and then stopped alongside them. A
man with dark, curly hair aged in his thirties unwound the driver’s window and leaned out. “Hey, I wouldn’t keep going that way if I were you.”

“Is it still possible to
get through?” asked Tommy, nodding at the red-haired woman in the passenger seat who was holding a child.

“Yeah, you can, but it depends where you’re going. They sealed off the City area last night.”

“You mean the very centre, like St Paul’s and Bank?” Marla queried.

The man frowned. “
I mean the whole lot. You can’t get there. The army and police have put up barricades, and there’s armed guards everywhere. It’s chaos. People smashing up buildings, loads of arrests and those people…” he hesitated. “The ones who aren’t…”

“The ones who look dead, David,” finished the woman beside him. “There are more of them. I don’t know how the army
is going to manage. I think there are too many.”

Tommy sighed. “I was hoping for a different story.”

David nodded. “So were we. We had a lot of problems getting out. Couldn’t get out of our building. There were too many of those… things there. The police got us out eventually. But you can’t contact anyone. Nothing seems to be working. You end up just waiting and hoping someone is going to find you. Some people are still stuck in there, but now they’re barricaded in too. Don’t know what we’re going to do now.”

“Do you know where you are going?” asked Marla.

The woman shook her head and glanced down at her child, who could not have been more than a year old.

“I was thinking of driving north,” David
answered, “to get as far away from here as possible.”

“We’ve just left some people,” Tommy told him. “There’s a coach parked just up ahead at the junction of the M11 and M25. There’s a soldier on board and they’re waiting for the army to escort them to a safe place. Why not go with them?”

The man smiled and saluted. “Thanks, man, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Just stay safe,” Tommy replied. “Good luck to you.”

“And you. You’re a brave man going back in there. Just don’t go too far.”

Tommy nodded. “Thanks. We won’t.”

The couple waved again and then the white van drove off.

“God, it sounds worse,” said Marla. “Everything’s changing too fast. No wonder we haven’t seen anyone.”

“They must have got most of the people out,” Ellen commented. “They must have, Marl. There were evacuations before us.”

“But he said there’s a barricade,” Devan pointed out. “Anyone who didn’t get out won’t
be able to.”

Everyone fell quiet.
Tommy started the engine and they continued down the M11. On either side were fields of green and farmland dotted with the odd small building. Shadowy figures moved in the distance, but it was impossible to tell if they were living people. Marla cracked the window to allow some fresh air into the car and gazed out. Soon they passed a small cemetery at Theydon Bois, and then it was a verdant sea again until they hit Debden and the scenery changed once more to an industrial park and stores.

“We just hit
civilisation,” Marla commented, feeling unnerved.

“I hope we can get to the house,” said Ellen.

“I hope so too,” Tommy replied, glancing in the rear-view mirror. Behind him the motorway stretched, empty as far as the eye could see.
Eerie.
Ahead, to the left, he spotted a golf club with its sprawling perfect grass and dipping bunkers, completely desolate when normally there would have been various men dressed in those crazy, loud jumpers whacking white balls. He’d always thought it a pointless game. As he stared, a couple of figures drifted into view. Before he could make them out clearly, his attention was grabbed by Devan exclaiming, “There’s smoke! Over there!”

“It’s a build
ing on fire,” Ellen added. “Looks big. What is it?”

Tommy frowned. “The football ground – Tottenham Hotspur. Must be looting
going on. Great, things are starting to hot up.”

“I’
m an Arsenal fan,” Devan answered.

“Figures,” Tommy
muttered under his breath. Marla glanced sideways at him and bit her lip, resisting the urge to giggle. He glanced in the mirror at Devan and replied loudly, “Really? Well, I’ve long been a Spurs man. That’s real sad to see the stadium burning. I watched many a good game there.”

They drove along in silence after that until Tommy turned off on to the A406 North Circular. He let out a sigh of relief that it had not been sealed off. Glancing to his right he saw a sign with flashing red lights on the road: ‘The City of London is closed.
Turn back.’ Marla pointed to it and no one spoke. They gazed out of the windows, deep in thought. On either side there were residential buildings now, but no vehicles passed. The road was empty. So eerie, thought Marla, as if they were in some end-of-the-world movie. She had expected to see some vehicles, but they were alone.

Passing another flashing
road sign with the same message, Tommy turned off on to Forest Road, which was the shortest route he knew of to Tottenham, but it was also a narrower road that cut through Walthamstow. The streets, which would normally be full of pedestrians going about their business, were desolate. On either side the houses seemed to sit and stare as they drove past.

Now and then a window
was boarded, leaving Marla to ponder whether there was anyone hiding inside. A huge fence encircled Thorpe Coombe Hospital and the windows of the adjoining buildings were smashed. A few doors hung off their hinges. Litter cascaded down the centre of the road where some black sacks had been ripped open, their innards strewn along the pavement. Marla wondered if it was down to foxes or people looking for food. With every shop they passed it was the same story; the windows were broken or the place had been burnt out. How had everything gone so crazy in such a short period of time?

“Freaks,” said Tommy, cutting into Marla’s thoughts. Sitting up straight in her seat, she glanced in the direction he was pointing. There were four of them slumped on the pavement by a petrol station. As soon as they saw the car they beg
an to rise slowly, drawn like moths to a flame. Then there were more, just walking, and they turned their faces to gaze at them; the car engine being the only sound in the silence. Litter blew past and the dead walked.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have come,” said Ellen.

“It’s not far,” said Tommy. “The road looks clear.”

He drove past Blackhorse Road Tube and the station was full of freaks
, standing lifeless and purposeless. Tommy cursed them under his breath. Instead of pedestrians there were freaks. Every few minutes or so there were more and they appeared to move in groups, which was like a bad joke to him. He drove the car over the reservoir along Ferry Lane and glanced out over the calm water. Passing his favourite local pub, the white-painted Ferry Boat Inn, which offered a beautiful view out the back, Tommy noticed the windows were boarded up. ‘Closed’ was written on the chalkboard in the drive. A few freaks stumbled along, unbalanced and ragged. Frowning, he kept driving and within five minutes he pulled into Hale Gardens. “Home, sweet home,” he said softly with a hint of sarcasm. Marla glanced sideways at him, but she didn’t say a word.

Tommy parked in front of the showroom
and turned off the engine. Pocketing the keys, he got out of the car, followed by the others. Heading to the boot, he opened it and passed everyone their luggage before glancing around the street. It was eerily quiet, broken by the quick dash of a black cat across the road. It darted down a hole under a fence and into the garden beyond. Litter flew around, tossed in the breeze, which was starting to warm up in the approach to midday.

Marla followed Tommy
’s line of sight, but she couldn’t make out any people, living or dead. It unnerved her, this silence; it was unnatural, as though it were waiting for something.

Ellen nudged her. “Wha–
”

“Shush,” Marl
a whispered and shook her head before putting her finger to her lips in a movement that reminded her sister of the kids in her class at school. It was something she was always doing to keep them quiet during morning assembly.

Tommy
made his way up to his front door. The glass doors at the front of the showroom were intact and the sign was still turned to ‘Closed’. Not that he had expected it to say anything else. Turning his key in the lock, he pushed the door open without a sound. Placing his rucksack on the floor, he gestured to the girls that he was going to check the flat when the shocking sound of barking made him jump. Tommy opened the side door and was greeted by Bob, who knocked him flat on his back.

“Hey,
boy,” he gasped, ruffling the Labrador’s ears. “You’re looking good.”

Bob barked again and licked his owner’s face.

“Too much noise,” Marla complained. “Can you get him to shut up?” She peered down the street nervously and clapped sight of two dead-lookers shifting into view.

“Come on, boy, inside,”
said Tommy, grabbing the dog by the collar and pushing him towards the stairs. In his excitement, Bob pounded his tail, which beat against the carpeted steps, and opened his mouth again to bark. “No!” Tommy warned in the deepest tone he could rustle up. “Quiet.”