I Dream of Zombies (5 page)

Marla woke in a cold sweat, her heart pounding in her chest. She lay still on her back, panting in shallow breaths. Wiping her hair back from her face, where it had been pasted in sticky strands, she sat up, drew in her knees and rested her cheek on one hand. Next to her, Peter was sound asleep. Rising silently from the bed, Marla pulled on her pyjama bottoms and left the room. Pushing the door to, she padded barefoot into the kitchen and poured a glass of cold apple juice, which she drank while resting her back against the counter.

How much longer will I
have this damn dream, she wondered, as her breathing returned to normal. Feeling no urge to go back to bed and even less to sleep, she picked up the now half-full glass and walked into the lounge. Sitting down, she turned on the television and flicked through the channels, knowing what she was looking for.

‘
Streatham – 55 hospitalised with mystery virus’. Marla changed sides. ‘Tooting – 16 reported with unidentified sickness’. Again, she flicked to another. ‘Wimbledon – 88 sick in unknown outbreak’; ‘Wanstead – 23 hospitalised’. Every channel was carrying a similar newsflash. The red strips seemed to cement themselves across Marla’s vision. She turned off the set and threw the handset down on the seat beside her.

It was starting. She knew it. Taking a gulp of the juice, she tried
to make sense of it all. A mystery virus: what was it, what would have caused it and what was the connection with these dreams? Was the government behind it – a war weapon gone wrong? Marla had heard of these things first hand. No, she feared it was something else.

Pushing the empty glass across the side table,
she stood up and walked to the window. Making a small gap in the curtains, she stared out. The street outside was empty and silent. “What were you expecting?” she whispered to herself. Shaking her head, she let the curtain drop before wandering out of the room and towards the bathroom. The clock on the wall told her that it was 4.30 a.m. What better time to get clean, she thought. It was a good use of time.

As the warm water spilled out
of the shower head over her hair and down her back, Marla tried to empty her mind of the endless circle of thoughts, but it was impossible. The same nagging doubts hammered away, and she knew it was no use trying to think about anything else. This was the now and something was coming.

***

“How come you’re up so early
on a Saturday?”

Marla
glanced up from the television to see Peter standing in the doorway, fully dressed. “Bad dream,” she replied.

“It’s probably from staring at that thing so long,” he remarked, crossing the room towards the kitchen. “Want a drink?”

“Yeah, a coffee would be cool. Dragonfly mug, please.”

“Since when did you switch from tea?” he asked.

“Since I didn’t want to go back to sleep!”

“Okay, okay…”

“Have you seen this stuff on the news about a virus?” Marla called out. “No one seems to know what it is, but in a lot of places across London people are being rushed into hospital with it…”

“Bird flu again
maybe or some flu you can’t pronounce?”

“I don’t know,” Marla replied, getting up and heading into the kitch
en. “Can you make one for Ellen? She’ll be up soon, I reckon.”

He
frowned. “But it’s 6 a.m.”

“She’s not sleeping much either.”

“A sister thing.”

Marla smiled, amazed at his lack of understanding. “I guess
so.”

“Hey, guys!”

“Talk of the devil,” remarked Peter, glancing around. “You know it’s good luck to turn up when people are talking about you?”

“Why?” asked Ellen, rubbing her eyes. “Nothing bad, I hope.”

Marla smiled. “Course not.”

Peter
took another mug out of the cupboard. “Coffee?”

Ellen nodded, looking slightly blank.

“Got something to show you,” said Marla, nudging her sister’s arm and leading her into the lounge. “Look! It’s just like what we saw in the newspaper last night, but now it’s all over London. Different towns dotted all over. No pattern.”

Ellen pushed her hair
behind her ears and sat down, gripping her hands together. “The flu thing?”

Marla nodded. “They’re saying flu or mystery virus, or unidentified illness, or summer bug. No one seems to know what it is. The government is holding
a press conference and they will try to come up with a vaccine. So far there are no cases outside London.”

“Okay, Marla, now this is weird,” mumbled Ellen. “I’m scared.”

“What of?” asked Peter, walking in with three mugs, which he placed on the side table. “Zombies?”

Ellen glanced at her sister.

“Zombies, like the mad guy and his crazy dreams,” Peter repeated with a chuckle. “What an idiot. Bet he’s predicting the end of the world again.”

Ellen
glanced down at her hands, which she was twisting awkwardly in her lap. Noticing, Marla stood up and picked up her mug. “Get dressed and washed,” she said to her sister, putting on a smile. “We’re going out shopping today.”

“Okay,” mumbled Ellen softly. Getting up, she walked out of the room slowly, clutching
her mug tightly in both hands.

“Is she alright?”
Peter enquired.

Marla raised an eyebrow.
“Like you care.”

“Oh, come on…”

“Yesterday you were asking how much longer she was staying…”

“
Right, so isn’t it time she went back to work?” he asked.

“She’s not feeling up to it.
Can’t you can see that she’s exhausted and not herself?” Marla answered. “And she’s my sister, so she can stay as long as she likes. It’s my flat.”

Peter
bristled and his face changed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She
shrugged and headed towards the bedroom. “However you want to take it,” was her parting shot.

Once in the
bedroom, Marla closed the door, took her huge red backpack off the top of the wardrobe and laid it on the floor. Opening various drawers, she started to sort out some clothes; enough to last a week. Once done with her underwear and socks, she pulled out some T-shirts and vests, followed by a black, zip-up hooded top. Next she checked for her passport and a few favourite items of jewellery, along with a book. She would allow herself only one.

Hunting through her drawers,
Marla paused when she found her father’s silver pinkie ring. Picking it up, she placed it on her thumb and revolved it slowly, remembering, while the seconds passed. Then, turning back to the wardrobe, she pulled out a few pairs of jeans and some pyjama bottoms. Eventually, Marla pulled the top of the rucksack closed and placed it in the gap between the wardrobe and the wall, where it was not visible unless you were looking for it. She decided to sort out her toiletries and valuables later. Remembering her phone charger, she picked it up and tucked it into the top of the rucksack; her laptop she placed on the chest of drawers. Then she lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose and exhaling through her mouth in a bid to calm her nerves.

The
bedroom door opened slightly and Marla turned her eyes towards it. Peter poked his head through the gap and said, “I’m off now.”

“Okay,” she muttered, glancing up at the ceiling
.

The
bedroom door closed. Listening out for the sound of the front door, Marla continued to breathe slowly and evenly with her eyes shut. When the inevitable slam came, she sat up and gathered together her toiletries and everything else she would normally take on a week’s holiday. Then she placed some other items in a pile on her bed, including a favourite notebook, a couple of pens and some photographs. She had no idea why, but she took out some pictures of her family and closest friends, and placed them in an envelope to take with her. Something in the back of her mind told her that she would not be returning.

Taking a deep breath, Marla opened the door and walk
ed out towards the second bedroom in the flat. Upon knocking, she heard Ellen call out, “Yes?”

Marla
entered the room to find her sister dressed and drying her still damp hair. She sat down on the edge of the bed.

“What’s up?” asked Ellen
, turning off the hairdryer.

“I have this feeling that we need to
leave. I can’t really explain why, but I want you to pack your things in your backpack. Just the stuff you need…”

“Marla…”

“I’m sorry, but I’m scared. It might be nothing, yet it might be something. You know me. I don’t scare easily…”

“As in never,”
Ellen agreed.

“So, pack what
ever you would take to go away for a week. We can drive to your house and you can get whatever things you want. But take enough for a week and anything valuable, as if you might never go back.”

Ellen put the hairdryer down. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“You’re
freaking me out.”

“I’m sorry. If I’m wrong, everything will be fine
, and you can go home anyway, but…”

Ellen nodded
and bit her lip. “Just in case. Okay, I trust you, Marl. I’ll do this, and I’m sure we’ll be back anyway.”

Marla smiled. “Of course
we will. It’s just a precaution. So we’re going to pack our stuff, take our valuables, like this one,” she added, pointing to her father’s ring. “Then we’re going to drive to the shooting gallery and practice…”

Ellen’
s eyes widened. “You’re kidding?”

“Nope, I’m not.
And we’re not leaving there until you shoot the damn target in the head. Is that okay?”

Ellen nodded with a confused expre
ssion on her face. “In the head?”

“And more than once,” added Marla as she got up and left the room
.

“Hey, it’s me, Marla,” she said, pressing her mobile against her ear as she stepped off the bus.

“I know. I can see your caller ID,” joked Tommy.

Marla sighed, but could not resist a slight grin. “We’re just walking from Tottenham Hale station; should be five minutes or so. We got the bus. There were some sick people on there. Some weren’t even moving, but just staring straight ahead. The driver said he was going back to the depot. I held a tissue over my mouth all the time. Everyone is catching this flu.”

“
That’s not good,” Tommy replied. “I’ll put the kettle on. See ya.”

The line went dead. “Fine, bye,” she muttered, before
tucking her mobile back in her bag. “How are you feeling, Ellen?”

Her sister shrugged. “I still don’t understand what we are doing.
It’s all a bit crazy. Why didn’t you ask Peter along?”

“Long story,” said
Marla. “It’s over between us – has been for a long time, but I just buried my head in the sand. That’s changing. Now I just want to look out for number one and number two.”

“So I’m number two?” asked Ellen with a grin.

“Nope.”

The younger girl’s
face fell and she pouted. Marla nudged her. “You’re number one, silly – always will be.”

Ellen grinned bashfully and adjusted her rucksack. The carrier bags she was carrying dug into her hands,
but she tried not to notice as she worked to keep up with Marla’s stride; her sister, the tough cookie, while Ellen was not really sure if she had a brave bone in her body.

“Here we go,” said Marla, catching
sight of Tommy Armstrong’s Cars. “I hope he’s made a decent cuppa.”

“Probably waiting for instructions
, so scared of your wrath if he gets it wrong!”

Marla turned her head. “Am I really that scary?”
she asked, knocking on the front door to the side of the glass showroom entrance.

“Sometimes, but really only when
you’re annoyed.”

“But I’m never like that with you.”

Ellen smiled. “Nope, never with me, and I’ll never forget you kicking my ex in the balls that time.”

“Well, he deserved it, the cheating...”

Tommy opened the door.

“...son of a bitch.”

“Well, that’s nice. A big fucking hello to you too,” he replied.

Marla turned sharply and burst out laughing. “Tommy, you know I didn’t mean you. I guess you remember my kid sister?”

“Yeah, but you’ve changed. Less of the kid now!” said Tommy.

“Hey, don’t get any ideas – she’s my sister
!” Marla replied with a dig in his arm.

He answered her back with a frown and an
odd but indecipherable expression. “Must be a few years now,” he added, redirecting his gaze to Ellen.

“Yes
, many,” Ellen replied. “I’m a school teacher now and I love it.”

“Wow, l
ooks and brains,” Tommy replied. Noticing Marla give him one of her looks, he quickly added, “'Runs in the family was how I was going to end that sentence.”

“Or
a chip off the old block,” joked Ellen.

“Yeah, that’s a good one too. Anyway, come in, girls,” he said, opening the door wide
r. “I was expecting you to bring more stuff.”

“Just the essentials,” Marla
explained. “You know, like you were going travelling around the world or something.”

“Whereas we’re jus
t stuck in good old London town,” Tommy remarked.

“Lucky us,” said Ellen. “I’d
rather it was Australia, but you know, beggars can’t be choosers.”

Tommy closed the door. They were standing in the blue-painted hallway
. “Head up the stairs – my flat is up there, Ellen. The door to the left here goes into the showroom and out the back of it is that makeshift bar you liked,” he added, nodding at Marla. “My chill-out zone and there’s even a bit of a garden that way.”

“Where’s your guy?”
asked Marla.

Tommy blinked.
“Come again?”

“The young guy who works
here,” Marla clarified.

“Sick. He r
ang in, and I haven’t seen him for a couple of days now,” Tommy replied.

“Oh.”

“How long have you lived here?” asked Ellen, following Marla up the stairs.

“Ah, years,” said Tommy. “
I bought the business when I was still with my ex, Hanna, and Ash. He’s my boy...”

“You have a kid?” Ellen
gasped.

“Yeah, I guess your big sister hasn’t told you much about me.”

“Erm, not really...”

“Figures,” Tomm
y mumbled, adding “women” when Marla turned her head.

“Ah!” screeched
Marla as her eyes settled on the landing in front of her. She stepped back as the thing ran forwards, drooling and breathing heavily. In the process she almost knocked Ellen backwards. Tommy stopped and put his arms up, but the girl did not lose her footing.

“So that’s where Bob got to,” he said, crossing his arms.

Both sisters caught their breath and then went all gooey-eyed as they bent down to pat the Labrador on the head. The dog thought all his Christmases had come at once and wagged his tail for all he was worth.

“He’s lovely,” said Ellen.

“And looking so much better. I remember him being a bit scruffy and dirty most of the time,” said Marla.

“
It’s not the same dog,” Tommy explained.

“Oh,” she said, turning red with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to insult the other dog.”

“Wow, you guys haven’t kept in touch much, have you?” Ellen remarked.

Tommy nodded. “Your sister only gets in touch
in an emergency.”

“That isn’t
...”

“Really?” asked Tommy. “When was the last time you rang... before all this ‘I’ve had a nightmare’ rubbish?”

“It’s not rubbish,” said Ellen, grimly. “Hey, Bob, who’s a good boy then?” she added as the dog slurped his tongue as if to lick her face.

“He is cute,” said Marla. “How old
is he?”

“He’s about four, but he came from a rescue place
and they weren’t sure. Sometimes I call him Mutt or Mister Stinky, but most of the time he’s Bob,” Tommy answered. “Anyways, you girls can kip in my spare room. There’s a big double bed in there and a wardrobe – well, all the things you expect to find in a bedroom really. That okay?”

Marla nodded. “That’s cool. When can we take off?”

Tommy shrugged. “I figure the weekend. We can head off Friday night.”

“That’s the end of the week
,” she groaned.

“Yeah, well
, I’ve got my business to think of.”

“
I was thinking we’d be leaving soon. You didn’t take me seriously, did you?”

“
Hey, I found the car you wanted,” Tommy said to change the subject. “I got the guns you asked for, and ammo, and I said you can stay here until you sort things with Peter. What more do you want? I thought you’d be pleased.”

“My idea was to get away – head out of the city
, maybe visit my Mum to check she’s okay,” Marla argued. “There’s something big happening. I told you.”

“Yeah,
that old government conspiracy thing. I’ve been thinking and, well, Friday night is good with me.”

Marla sighed. “So you won’t mind if we
head off without you then?” she asked.

“That’s not fair, Marl
. I fancied a road trip. I figured it would be a good way to spend the weekend with two great ladies and Bob, of course.”

“I can’t believe you. I thought you were on my side. And don’t call me Marl.”

“Okay, Marl-a, but, seriously, you can’t expect me to believe killer zombies from who knows where are about to turn up on my doorstep and eat me.”

“Men!” she
spluttered as she stalked into the bedroom, and dumped her bags and rucksack on the floor.

Ellen followed silently behind and did the same thing, muttering, “This is weird.”

“Tea or coffee?” Tommy called out.

“Coffee!” the girls chimed together. “Strong.”

“I thought you were a tea girl, Marl-a,” he remarked.

“I was,”
she replied, “until I started having shit scary dreams.”

“A-h
a,” he muttered to himself as his footsteps echoed down the hall.

“What’s you
r plan?” Ellen asked her sister.

Marla scratched her head. “Maybe we could take the jeep and just get
some things we might need for the road trip,” she said, placing a sarcastic lilt on the last two words.

Ellen giggled. “Sounds like a plan. We should get enough to last us a month, I think.”

“That’s gonna weigh down the car,” said Marla, smiling, “but it’s a good idea.”