The Undead Day Twenty (5 page)

‘Um…yes.’

‘Okay…fine. I’ll go and ask that then.’

‘And they said they were attacked twenty miles away.’

‘By the dead actor or someone else?’

‘Dunno I wasn’t there…’

‘Wasn’t where?’ Marcy asks, walking out to look at Maddox’s bleeding lip questioningly.

‘I did,’ Blowers says.

‘You did?’

‘Yeah.’

‘He’s still alive.’

‘Didn’t hit hard.’

‘Lucky you,’ Marcy tells Maddox.

‘Want a bread roll with jam, Marcy?’ Cookey asks.

‘Bloody do I? Yes! Yes please, Cookey.’

‘Marcy, give me a hand,’ Paula says, nodding at the van.

‘With what?’

‘We’ve got to ask some kids if a dead actor got them here.’

‘That makes total sense,’ Marcy says.

‘Kids said Paco Maguire got them here,’ Howie says.

‘Paco? He’s dead…didn’t Meredith kill him?’ Marcy asks.

‘She did,’ Clarence says.

‘And they said they were attacked twenty miles away,’ Howie says.

Marcy nods, nothing in this world is surprising anymore, apart from the smell of fresh bread that is. That’s surprising. And jam too. ‘Okay,’ she says simply, following Paula to the van.

‘Do Pea and Sam and Dave’s mum want a bread roll with jam?’ Cookey shouts from the house.

‘Sam? Pea? You want a bread roll with jam?’ Howie calls out. ‘Is Dave’s mum with you?’

‘At the van with Paula and Marcy,’ Pea says, ‘and er…only if there’s enough for you first.’

‘She is not my mother.’

‘Got loads,’ Cookey shouts from the house.

‘Howie…Nick…come here,’ Paula calls out.

‘Me?’ Nick asks, ‘why me?’

‘Something needs burning down,’ Blowers mutters.

‘Funny,’ Nick says, walking past Maddox, ‘prick…’

‘Nick,’ Maddox nods politely.

‘What?’ Howie asks, reaching the van with Nick and seeing Meredith’s arse and tail poking out the side opening.

‘Meredith,’ Marcy says, motioning towards the dog.

Howie and Nick go forward, exchanging
what the fuck
glances before seeing Meredith sniffing every child within the van. Not just sniffing but examining, assessing, inhaling deeply and whining while doing it with a keening noise that comes from her throat.

‘She won’t hurt you,’ Paula says again to the children inside. ‘She loves children…’

‘And penises,’ Nick whispers as Howie snorts a laugh.

‘Nick,’ Marcy laughs, hitting him on the arm.

‘She’s going nuts,’ Paula says, ‘look at her…think she can smell him?’

‘Dunno, have you asked her?’ Howie asks, getting a look in return.

‘Why am I here again?’ Nick asks, worried that his bread roll with jam will get eaten.

‘She’s your dog,’ Paula says.

‘She’s not my dog,’ Nick replies then looks at Marcy, ‘she’s not my dog.’

‘Nick, think she can smell something?’ Howie asks, watching Meredith closely.

‘I don’t know, Boss. She’s not my dog…er…yes, yes she can…may I?’ He goes closer, watching Meredith and the way she moves from hand to hand. Pushing her nose to open fingers to smell palms. She stops at the smallest child, a little Indian girl who grins widely at the dog and starts rubbing her head. Meredith keens more, her nose moving over every inch of the girl.

‘Are you sure it was Paco Maguire?’ Paula asks the same question again, getting nods coming back.

‘Bread rolls,’ Clarence says, walking into the group with his hands holding several jam filled weirdly shaped lumps of bread.

‘Cheers,’ Howie says, taking one.

‘Want one,’ the little Indian girl says on sight of the rolls.

‘Amna,’ Subi says, ‘that is rude.’

‘She can have mine,’ Howie says, offering the roll to the little girl who beams with delight.

‘Here, honey,’ Paula says, offering her roll to Subi. ‘Go on, we’ve got plenty.’

‘Why is she sniffing that girl the most?’ Marcy asks, offering her roll to the children.

‘Dunno,’ Nick says, thinking hard. ‘Did Paco carry you? Did he carry this girl?’ He asks the older children who nod.

‘No way,’ Howie says. ‘Paco?’

‘Hey,’ Paula says, crouching at the side of the van. ‘Did Paco have any injuries anywhere?’

Subi nods, her hand lifting to touch the base of her neck. ‘Here.’

‘He couldn’t speak,’ Rajesh says.

‘He did speak, Raj,’ Subi says. ‘He said dog and girl and Heather…’

‘Howie, want to get everyone ready?’ Paula says softly. ‘I’ll find out the rest.’

‘Yep.’

‘Save me a roll,’ she adds.

‘And me,’ Marcy says.

‘Yep,’ Howie calls out, rushing back with Nick and Clarence.

‘She killed him,’ Clarence says. ‘We were there. We saw it.’

‘Maybe she didn’t,’ Nick says.

‘What’s going on?’ Blowers asks, eating a bread roll with jam.

‘Get ready to go…Paula’s finding out the rest but it’s looking likely.’

‘No way,’ Blowers says, shaking his head.

‘Is Maddox having a bread roll with jam?’ Cookey shouts, ‘cos I’ll shit in it if he is…’

‘I’m fine, thank you,’ Maddox says, holding his impassive expression.

Chaos erupts. An explosion of activity of many people moving through a house while finding socks, boots, clean tops and eating jam filled bread rolls. Rifles are checked, fresh magazines loaded. Pistols the same. Dull metallic clicks sound from every room. Voices arguing over space and kit. The bathroom is used. A constant flushing of the toilet. Kyle moves amongst them, passing rolls into hands to make sure they all get something.

Charlie goes into the back garden to get Jess ready before going back into the house with a thoughtful look on her face. The cut on her cheek is itching already. She scratches it gently then the top of her ear too, feeling the new shape under her fingertips. She stops outside to look down at Jess munching happily on the grass verge.

‘Why is Jess out the front?’ She asks, going back into the house.

‘My fault,’ Clarence calls down from upstairs. ‘She came out last night…’

‘How did she…’

‘Through the house. I had biscuits.’

‘Oh. Oh I see. Right…’

‘Is that okay? Can she have biscuits?’

‘One or two now and then won’t harm her.’

‘Er…roger that, one or two….now and then…roger.’

She goes back outside to get Jess ready, checking the big animal over before leading her to the horse box at the back of Roy’s van.

Maddox waits on the path outside the house. Watching and listening and feeling very alone. Pea and Sam eat bread rolls and move amongst the team with ease, sharing jokes and comments. Joan stays at the van with Paula and Marcy. Everyone ignores him. His lip stings a little but it’s not the first time he’s been hit and he knows Blowers pulled that punch a lot. That thought alone tells him there might be a chance to earn back the respect he had before. Still, it was a bloody hard punch though. He hasn’t been put on his arse for a long time. Not since he was a kid.

‘Twat,’ Cookey mutters, rushing past to get the Saxon ready.

‘Cookey,’ Maddox says, still holding that polite tone.

‘Cunt…’

‘Who are you?’ Maddox asks.

‘Blinky,’ Blinky says, stopping as she rushes behind Cookey. ‘I blink a lot…’

‘Oh…I’m Maddox.’

‘I know.’

‘Okay.’

‘Bye.’

‘Er…bye,’ Maddox says as she runs towards the Saxon. ‘Hey,’ he looks down at feeling Meredith’s nose sniffing his leg. He drops to a squat, rubbing her head and ears. ‘Do you hate me?’ She runs off back to the van and smells inside. ‘Figures,’ Maddox mutters, standing back up.

‘We ready?’ Howie asks, coming down the stairs with his hands full of kit. ‘Marcy, your stuff is here by the door.’

‘Ta,’ she shouts from the van.

‘Maddox.’

‘Hi,’ Maddox says, nodding at Roy coming out the house. ‘How are you?’

‘Fine…got a weird pain in my mouth though. In the right cheek…might be a growth.’

‘A growth?’

‘And I’m sure my neck doesn’t feel right…’ Roy says, turning his head side to side. ‘Feels knotted…must be something bad.’

‘New pillows?’ Maddox asks.

‘Ah could be…’ Roy says, looking at the younger man thoughtfully. ‘Blowers hit you?’

‘S’nothing.’

‘Bit swollen. I’ve got a medic’s bag from the hospital section yesterday.’

‘That’s er…that’s good.’

‘Red.’

‘What?’

‘The bag. It’s red. Got loads of stuff in it. I really want a defib though. We should have a defib.’

‘Cock,’ Cookey mutters rushing back into the house.

‘Other than that I think I got some good stuff though. Have they got any over there?’

‘Any what?’

‘Defibs?’

‘Er…I don’t…yes, yes they have.’

‘The mobile ones in the yellow case? It’s all self-contained…has a voice that tells you what to do…’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Cock.’

‘Cookey,’ Maddox says, nodding politely again.

‘Course I said I’m not a medic but Howie seems to think I am.’

‘Hey, Maddox.’

‘Blinky.’

‘Cunt…why are we calling him names again?’

‘He locked Lani in the…’

‘I could probably set a broken arm. Maybe a broken leg…you know, splint it up. Cuts and bruises are easy enough too. Did you see Charlie’s face?’

‘Er…the girl with the cut,’ Maddox says, touching his own cheek.

‘Yes, the same. I steristripped that wound. Doctors said I did a good job too.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Roy.’

‘Blowers,’ Roy says, turning to the door as Blowers comes out. ‘Pulled the punch then.’

‘Bit. You ready?’

‘Yep, all ready,’ Roy says, nodding at his bow and kit bag at his feet. ‘Am I taking my van?’

‘Probably,’ Blowers says, avoiding looking at Maddox. ‘Can’t be Paco…the dog had his throat out.’

‘Maybe she didn’t kill him,’ Roy says. ‘Did any of you check?’

‘Check what?’

‘His heart or pulse.’

‘His throat was ripped open.’

‘Still…look at Cookey’s back and Charlie’s wounds. There’s a chance she left him alive…well, she must have done if he
is
alive.’

‘Cookey’s back?’ Maddox enquires.

‘Go fuck yourself,’ Blowers mutters.

‘Infected ripped his back open,’ Roy explains. ‘Healing well mind.’

‘Ready,’ Howie says, dumping kit bags on the floor as the others pile out.

‘Will you be coming back here today?’ Kyle asks, coming to the door.

‘Hope so,’ Howie says. ‘Where’s Reggie?’

‘Behind you.’

‘Oh, you read all that stuff yet?’

‘I have and I need to read it again.’

‘Righto, we’ll be doing this for a bit. Paula? Marcy?’

‘Two minutes,’ Marcy says, leaning round the back of the van, ‘did you save us some rolls?’

‘I have them here,’ Kyke says, holding two rolls wrapped in silver foil in the air.

‘Don’t let Nick eat them.’

‘He’s had four already so he has.’

‘Four?’ Blowers asks, leaning round Howie to look at Nick. ‘You fat fucker.’

‘Get bent.’

‘Blowers is,’ Cookey says, rushing past to the Saxon. ‘Twat…’

‘Cookey,’ Maddox says, noticing as the last two come out the house. ‘Mo Mo,’ he says, nodding at the young lad.

‘What did I tell you?’ The space falls silent at Dave’s dull hard voice.

‘Awkward!’ Cookey shouts from the Saxon.

Mo looks different. Older, harder, his eyes are like the rest of them now. Never still but always watching, always scanning. He doesn’t slouch but stands straight and he’s had a shave too. All the wispy hairs from his jaw and chin are gone. Like Dave he wears a pistol on each hip with the butts facing in to be cross drawn. Knife hilts on his belt. His bag secured with the chest and waist strap fastened. Like Dave. Mo looks like Dave. Dressed the same. Standing the same.

‘Right,’ Paula says, coming down to the group with Marcy. ‘Everyone here?’

‘Cookey and Charlie,’ Howie says.

‘Cookey? Charlie?’ Paula calls out.

‘Yep, coming,’ Cookey says, dropping from the Saxon.

‘Here,’ Charlie says, rushing from the back of the horse trailer.

‘What we got?’ Howie asks.

‘Everyone listening?’ Paula asks, ‘no funny comments from anyone…Cookey…’