Miriam. Not—
“Why do you always leave us?”
The voice was loud. Made the walls shake. And when Hayden looked back over at the boy at the window, he saw his eyes bulging.
Saw them turning blue.
Then…
The boy’s eyes burst open.
Blood splattered out of them. Sprayed all over the grey walls of this corridor.
Hayden’s family dragged him below and ripped him to—
He woke suddenly. Heart racing. Sweat rolling down his forehead even though it was cool. He took in a few deep breaths. His chest was tight. His muscles, weak.
He was okay. It was just a dream.
Just the same old fucking dream.
He closed his eyes again. Pressed his head against his legs. He couldn’t hear any sounds around him but for the creaking of the holiday cabin he was inside. They’d found the place just after dark. Derelict, abandoned. Decent shelter in the middle of some woods. One of those places he’d go on adventure holidays with his family when he was younger.
The creaking floorboards upstairs. Shifting in the breeze, or with the slightest turn of a group member.
Then, lightly, from one of the other rooms, snoring.
He raised his head. Squinted in the darkness. There was a television mounted on the wall at the other side of the room. Said a lot about how much the world had changed that he didn’t even think about trying to turn it on. Over to the left of the room, an imitation fireplace. Leaflets spread across the oak table; a high chair propped against it. He wondered who’d stayed here before the turn. Wondered whether they’d found out about it through friends or via that television.
He wondered if they’d found out at all.
There must’ve been so many people out there who didn’t have a fucking clue what was going on. Not that he did—just, being a bit younger, abstract concepts like zombie apocalypses were somewhat more believable. Just somewhat.
But all the old people who’d died. All the terrified children who’d watched their parents stumble towards them.
The feeling of ultimate betrayal when a dad wraps his teeth around his son’s neck.
Rips his flesh away.
The sense of paternal idolisation that wouldn’t die; not even then.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a bang outside.
He jolted upright. Looked around the lounge. A few other group members were in here with him. Sammy. Bradley. People he didn’t know as much as others. Still felt detached from most of them. At a distance.
They were fast asleep.
Didn’t budge.
Hayden heard something outside again.
Shuffling.
His body tensed. The curtains were partly open, a slither of moonlight seeping in. He had to stand up. He had to close them. He had to do it before whatever was out there looked inside. Before whatever was out there saw him, saw the group.
He stood, knees clicking. Crept over to the curtains. Grabbed them gently. Didn’t want to draw any attention to himself, to the house. Didn’t know whether it was human or zombie out there.
Didn’t really matter.
All that mattered was his silence.
All that mattered was…
He stopped. Hands on the curtains.
Something was out there.
Something… something was lying in the dirt.
He saw the grey hair shining in the moonlight, in the stars, and he recognised the figure right away.
Bob.
He frowned. Stepped away from the window. Bob was hurt. He’d seemed worse for wear earlier. That mark on his arm. Maybe the tetanus shot had reacted badly? He certainly looked hunched up. Like his muscles were tensed. Like his body had tightened.
He had to go out there.
Had to check how he was.
But something slowed Hayden’s departure from the house. A feeling. An ill feeling about this entire situation.
Something wasn’t right.
He walked out of the lounge, past his sleeping companions. The corridor was dark. No sign of the door being opened. Made the hairs stand on the back of his neck. What other way out of the cabin was there? And why was Bob outside in the first place?
Hayden thought back to the
“Why do you always leave us?”
The voice was loud. Made the walls shake. And when Hayden looked back over at the boy at the window, he saw his eyes bulging.
Saw them turning blue.
Then…
The boy’s eyes burst open.
Blood splattered out of them. Sprayed all over the grey walls of this corridor.
Hayden’s family dragged him below and ripped him to—
He woke suddenly. Heart racing. Sweat rolling down his forehead even though it was cool. He took in a few deep breaths. His chest was tight. His muscles, weak.
He was okay. It was just a dream.
Just the same old fucking dream.
He closed his eyes again. Pressed his head against his legs. He couldn’t hear any sounds around him but for the creaking of the holiday cabin he was inside. They’d found the place just after dark. Derelict, abandoned. Decent shelter in the middle of some woods. One of those places he’d go on adventure holidays with his family when he was younger.
The creaking floorboards upstairs. Shifting in the breeze, or with the slightest turn of a group member.
Then, lightly, from one of the other rooms, snoring.
He raised his head. Squinted in the darkness. There was a television mounted on the wall at the other side of the room. Said a lot about how much the world had changed that he didn’t even think about trying to turn it on. Over to the left of the room, an imitation fireplace. Leaflets spread across the oak table; a high chair propped against it. He wondered who’d stayed here before the turn. Wondered whether they’d found out about it through friends or via that television.
He wondered if they’d found out at all.
There must’ve been so many people out there who didn’t have a fucking clue what was going on. Not that he did—just, being a bit younger, abstract concepts like zombie apocalypses were somewhat more believable. Just somewhat.
But all the old people who’d died. All the terrified children who’d watched their parents stumble towards them.
The feeling of ultimate betrayal when a dad wraps his teeth around his son’s neck.
Rips his flesh away.
The sense of paternal idolisation that wouldn’t die; not even then.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a bang outside.
He jolted upright. Looked around the lounge. A few other group members were in here with him. Sammy. Bradley. People he didn’t know as much as others. Still felt detached from most of them. At a distance.
They were fast asleep.
Didn’t budge.
Hayden heard something outside again.
Shuffling.
His body tensed. The curtains were partly open, a slither of moonlight seeping in. He had to stand up. He had to close them. He had to do it before whatever was out there looked inside. Before whatever was out there saw him, saw the group.
He stood, knees clicking. Crept over to the curtains. Grabbed them gently. Didn’t want to draw any attention to himself, to the house. Didn’t know whether it was human or zombie out there.
Didn’t really matter.
All that mattered was his silence.
All that mattered was…
He stopped. Hands on the curtains.
Something was out there.
Something… something was lying in the dirt.
He saw the grey hair shining in the moonlight, in the stars, and he recognised the figure right away.
Bob.
He frowned. Stepped away from the window. Bob was hurt. He’d seemed worse for wear earlier. That mark on his arm. Maybe the tetanus shot had reacted badly? He certainly looked hunched up. Like his muscles were tensed. Like his body had tightened.
He had to go out there.
Had to check how he was.
But something slowed Hayden’s departure from the house. A feeling. An ill feeling about this entire situation.
Something wasn’t right.
He walked out of the lounge, past his sleeping companions. The corridor was dark. No sign of the door being opened. Made the hairs stand on the back of his neck. What other way out of the cabin was there? And why was Bob outside in the first place?
Hayden thought back to the
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