Seasons of Z (Book 3): Dead Summer Read online

  “We can't leave it here, it'll stink up the whole garden!”

  “Then we should drag it,” Mickey coughed and turned his head away as he finished wrapping the mess of a corpse, “Let's take it back through the fairground and show it to Devan or Alice or the girl with the box of glitter in the tower, anyone who has any kind of authority around here!”

  Alex watched as Mickey finished tying a length of washing line around the corpse. As he pulled it tight, there was farting noise that cut through the air as more guts spilled out from the body cavity, trailing out of the package as flies buzzed around it.

  “Okay,” Alex agreed, taking a step back, “But we need a long length of line on that thing – it stinks!”

  Mickey stepped back from the wrapped corpse.

  “I think there's spare washing line in the shed.”

  Alex gave a sigh and went off to fetch it, thankful to be away from the hint of rotting zombie that lingered in the air. He felt sure this was not a good idea, to make a complaint by dragging a stinking corpse with guts trailing back to the people who had given them such generous shelter – but Mickey was going to do this with or without his help, and he felt bad about leaving him to do this on his own. It was likely he would start a quarrel, too – after so much concern over Angel, then Poppy almost dying, he was ready for a fight over this water logged zombie. The flies were gathering heavier now, buzzing about the trailing guts loudly. Alex returned with the washing line and handed it to Mickey, who took it from him then glanced at him.

  “Could you roll it over for me?”

  Alex shook his head.

  “Nope. Not touching it. That thing stinks, Mickey!”

  “And that's why we're taking it back to who ever is in charge, instead of leaving it here as I first planned, because we don't want the garden stinking of dead zombie!”

  As he said that, Mickey struggled as he rested his weak hand on the wrapped corpse, rolling it over as the guts that trailed flopped about and kicked up a worse smell as the flies buzzed. He tied the line, looping it under the bond that held the plastic wrapping around it, then knotted it tightly. As he made a loop on the end of the free line, Alex stepped further back, thankful for a distance from the smell.

  “All ready,” Mickey said, tugging on the loop with his good hand, then offering it to Alex,“We can pull it together.”

  “While we land ourselves in the shit, together!” Alex remarked as they began to drag the corpse from the garden towards the gate, “I hope you're not going to kick off at these people.”

  They had dragged the body out of the gate. It left a slimy trail behind it as flies followed, buzzing as wings beat on air and they savoured the stink of the dead flesh.

  “Why would I not kick off?” Mickey asked, glancing at Alex as anger simmered in his gaze, “One of our group – a kid – was almost killed, because of a zombie in a pool that was supposed to be empty! That's reason enough to be more than a little irate.”

  “I guess it's hard to spot a zombie that's partly gutted, in deep water that's had a year of filth turn it murky, and you might want to think about that before you start a fight. Did you bring your lucky brick?”

  “No,” Mickey replied, still simmering with anger, “I left it in my coat – but I can easily go back and fetch it!”

  Alex laughed as he shook his head.

  “This is going tits up, I can feel it! Don't fuck this up, Mickey. Think of everyone else. We have a place to stay!”

  “I am thinking of everyone else,” Mickey replied as he dragged the corpse across the road and it bumped the kerb as guts leaked oozing slime, “This is why we have to let them know what happened!”

  Alex said nothing in reply, seeing the only positive in this was the fact that the line was long and the smell was a fair distance behind them as they dragged the body behind them, heading back towards the path that cut through the entrance to the fairground.

  Sage had run along the sea wall, stopping twice to catch her breath. The pier was a short distance away now, and she put a hand to her aching side as she breathed hard, taking in lungfuls of fresh salt air as she headed for the entrance to the pier. A short distance below was a parade of shops, and it would have been busy any other summer, but those shops were closed up now and some were boarded. An exception was a tea room at the end of the parade, and she cut down the slope, then reached the path that branched straight on to the pier, heading for its entrance as she started to smile. She was almost there. She was about to find Bess...

  The pier was boarded all the way along, to her left was the entrance to an amusement arcade, the door was closed. To the right was a kiosk that sold rock and candy floss and hot dogs and bizarrely, it was open. She saw two kids and a woman she assumed was their parent go up to the open window and ask the woman inside for candy floss. She didn't pay, the kids got candy floss and she got a can of lemonade, and then as the kids went to the rail and looked over at the sea, the mother chatted to the woman in the kiosk as if it was just another day. Moments like that were strange yet familiar, and as she walked on, it was hard to remember the horrors behind the barrier as she spotted moments of the old, normal way of life pop up before her eyes.

  As she walked on she passed the entrance to a small theatre, and there was poster on the wall of a man in a black suit with playing cards in his hand and the cards were burning as smoke rose from them. Brett Norton, Illusionist, the sign said in elegant red lettering. The dates for his show were for last summer, but the doors were open. She walked on, quickening her pace now she was recovered from that dash along the sea wall. She passed the entrance to a ghost train. Ironically, there was elaborate artwork painted on the large sign above and around it, and over the top of the sign was the image of a snarling zombie. It was the typical green skinned, mouldering cartoon zombie. Not a bit like the real ones out there beyond the strong fencing that kept this part of the town secure. The rest of the attractions went by in an insignificant blur. All that mattered now was her view along the pier, where the walk to the end was surrounded by sea and two thirds of the way down, she stood there leaning on the rail with her fishing rod in her hands.

  “Bess!”

  Sage had tried to call her name as her heart leapt with joy and relief, but it came out as a tear choked whisper as her eyes stung with tears all over again. There she was, standing there in cut down denim shorts and a back vest, her hair was tied back and she looked sun kissed and deep in thought.

  “Bess...”

  Sage broke into a fast walk, tears streaming down her face as she hurried towards her, knowing her voice was still hushed by the emotion that choked off her voice. She couldn't yell her name, she could barely breathe as her vision blurred and more tears of joy ran down her face. It was her, it was really her and she was fine, despite all hell breaking loose and what it must have took to get here to a place of safety, she was okay, of course she was, in her heart she had always felt sure she had made it – and she was right...

  Then, as she drew in a breath to try and call out again, she didn't need to. She seemed to know, to sense her presence as Bess turned her head and then she let go of the rod and it slipped over the rail and down into the water, but she didn't care as she shouted her name and ran towards her. Sage ran too, her vision blurred by tears as she dragged in a breath and her muscles ached from the long dash along the sea wall. They collided and embraced, Sage weeping as Bess held her tightly and the sea breeze blew sharp and warm. Bess drew back and swept her hair from her face, then brushed away a tear from her cheek.

  “You made it!” she said as her voice trembled.

  Sage laughed as she nodded.

  “So did you, I knew you would! I fucking knew, Bess! I never gave up hope!”

  “I've missed you, Sage! Come here, I love you so much!” she pulled her close again, clinging tightly to her as if afraid she might vanish, afraid this was just a dream.

  “I love you too,” Sage said tearfully as they shared a kiss, then the two women clung to one another, needing no words. Later, words would come, they both had tales of horror to share about their journey through zombie infested towns and cities, but for now all that mattered was they had found one another again, and they both held on tightly, sharing a moment of joy in a world that didn't have much joy to offer any more. They had found each other. In this moment, that was all that mattered.

  As Mickey and Alex dragged the body along the pathway, they passed by caravans and some of them were occupied. There were also people walking about in the fairground as their kids enjoyed rides, taking a slice of normal life while the weather was good – at least, it would have been normal if not for the two newcomers who dragged a mouldering zombie wrapped in plastic sheeting behind them as its guts trailed and a swarm of flies followed enthusiastically. They were getting looks of disgust, Alex had noticed it right away but if Mickey had noticed, he didn't care.

  Alice was by the watch tower, looking up as she chatted to Kerry. Then Kerry looked down and past her, and she saw the look on her face, turned her head and saw Mickey and Alex standing there, and behind them was a badly decomposed zombie with a fresh bullet wound to the head, wrapped in plastic sheeting that was tied with washing line, its guts trailed behind it and flies buzzed about the corpse. She turned from the tower and hurried over with a look of dismay on her face.

  “Where did you find that thing?”

  “In the pool,” Mickey said as he struggled to contain his anger, “Actually that's not quite right... We didn't find it. One of the kids in our group found it - Poppy got curious about something moving in the water, she thought it was a fish. Does this look like a fish to you?”

  Anger burned in his gaze. She looked down at the corpse, then back at Mickey, her expression full of apology.

  “We had to use explosives to clear the safe zone – this one must have been missed when we swept the area before the barriers went up. Is Poppy okay?”

  “She has a scratch on her leg.”

  Alice stepped closer to the corpse, giving its jaw a soft kick with the toe of her shoe. Its jaw hung loose and she saw human teeth.

  “It's a slow one. Either that, or it didn't get chance to properly turn before it was killed... she won't get infected. I'm so sorry, we did think the area was clear.”

  “It wasn't!” Mickey fumed.

  “Would you like me to submit a report to the committee meeting next weekend?” she offered.

  He blinked.

  “The what?”

  “We have a meeting every weekend to discuss issues... there's fifteen of us altogether, we represent different areas of running life behind the barriers, and you can make a complaint about safety if you want to.”

  She smiled.

  Mickey stared at her.

  “It's the apocalypse and you're having meetings about it?”

  “We try and keep life as normal as possible here,” she replied, “And again, sorry about this...” she turned her head, waved to a guy who was standing idle by the sea wall with a gun, “Take this away and torch it,” she called out, and he said okay and made his way down the slope to collect the corpse.

  “Has this happened before?” Alex asked her.

  She looked from Mickey to Alex and gave a shrug.

  “Most of the time, we can say Wickstall - or what's left of it - is safe. But we can't say there's absolutely nothing lurking, especially in wooded areas or under water. We did search the area extensively before and after the barriers went up, but there's no gold standard for how to keep a zone zombie free, there's a first time for everything – and let's be honest about this, how do we get things right? It's our first time for everything, dealing with all this. We just have to hope for the best.”

  Alex smiled.

  “And that's fair enough, Alice.”

  Her gaze lingered on him as she smiled back brightly.

  “Thanks,” she replied.

  Mickey gave a sigh of impatience.

  “That's all? You can't assure us the kids will be safe in the garden, or out on walks?”

  “We advise residents to stick to populated areas,” she told him, “There's an area of woodland right up the other end of the safe zone – it's part of Lord Featherstone's land – and he has a gate set into it, he opens it three times a week so him and his mates can play war games with the zombies. Bradley claims to have a kill record of one hundred percent, and he probably does, but we want him to permanently shut the gate. So far all requests have been ignored. I'm not saying he would pose a threat with the gate, but it's possible.”

  “I really need to speak to you or Devan about exactly how safe it is around here,” Mickey told her as his temper simmered down at last, “It's the kids I'm worried about - we had enough of a scare over Angel getting bitten. We almost lost Poppy today!”

  As they spoke together, Alex stepped aside as the guy from the sea wall took hold of the loop at the end of the tied washing line and started to drag the wrapped zombie away.

  “We're not in charge!” Alice said in surprise as the sea breeze ruffled her hair and the end briefly lifted, trailing on the salted air, “Devan co ordinates security shifts. I work on the gate with Kerry as welcoming party for travellers. I also allocate housing, which doesn't happen often because not many make it this far. But none of us run things – the chairman of the Wickstall Survivors Committee runs everything around here.”

  “Who is the chairman?” Mickey asked.

  “Brett Norton,” she said with an air of importance, as if the name was supposed to be instantly recognisable.

  “Who?” said Mickey.

  “Brett Norton the illusionist,” Alice told him, “He had a show on the pier every summer – when he wasn't shooting his TV show. He also has a big investment in several businesses on the pier, he's a local celebrity and businessman.”

  “And I bet the committee was his idea?” Mickey enquired, sounding unimpressed.

  “Yes, it was!” Alice said brightly, “It's very nice, too, we have tea and biscuits and discuss the running of the town. We're basically the new local council, it's great!”

  “That's nice,” Mickey said, forcing a smile, as Alex smirked and looked away. Clearly, Mickey was not impressed with their desperate attempt to keep normal life running, and Alex was inclined to agree. This was the apocalypse. Zombies roamed the earth. That couldn't be put right with polite meetings over tea and biscuits... Perhaps they put too much emphasis on clinging to the old, normal ways, and not enough on checking details, like the odd zombie here and there, under water or lurking in the woods. If this town was guilty of anything, it was carelessness when it came to water tight security, they were too confident in their smooth running of the place and paying little attention to potential flaws. Not one of them knew what it was like out there, in the thick of zombie infestations. Clearly they had saved a portion of their own town while they still could, but they didn't seem to realise just how bad it could get if a horde broke in.

  “Maybe we could talk to your security people at some point?” Alex suggested, “We've travelled a long way and seen a lot, we can advise on how to keep this town very secure.”

  She looked at him in confusion.

  “Don't be silly,” she said as she laughed softly, “It's safe here, this is Wickstall. We're doing just fine!”

  Then a tall man in a black suit approached them.

  “What's this about a zombie stinking the place up? That's not going to look good from a health and safety point of view to folks around here. We've got an image to maintain, especially to newcomers!”

  As he strode over, the breeze blew back his dark brown hair. His green eyes darted from Alice to the man in the dark suit with a partly open shirt beneath it, then to the younger guy in a t shirt and jeans and biker boots.

  “Shit...” he muttered, realising these were two of the newcomers.

  “This is Mickey and this is Alex, their friends are back at the house, I gave them a place down Beach Close, they found the zombie in the pool, it went for a child.”

  Alarm registered in his gaze.

  “Is the kid okay?”

  “She will be,” Mickey said as he regarded him frostily, “Thankfully we were able to shoot it before it bit her – and then we dragged it back here. We were told to stay away from the pool because it was filthy, not because there was partially disembowelled zombie at the bottom of it!”

  “Ah,” he said, pausing to look to the sea wall, where a trail of smoke rose up from behind it as the remains of the corpse swiftly burned, “I apologise personally for that, we did a sweep of the area and didn't check the pool, at the time we were putting up fencing and securing the barriers and it was a busy time. It's an easy mistake to make. I'm Brett Norton, I run things around here.”

  He held out his hand, Alex briefly shook it then Mickey did the same and as he drew back, Brett's gaze lingered on Mickey's weak hand.

  “What happened to you, was it a stroke? I'm surprised someone like you made it this far, I mean, like that!”

  Mickey forced a smile as he politely gave a reply.

  “You shouldn't be surprised, Mr Norton. I've actually had a weakness down one side of my body since I was a young child. I had meningitis and it caused paralysis. And it hasn't stopped me surviving the end of life as we know it. I'm also handy with a gun. Was before the apocalypse, too. Always have an open mind. People can surprise you.”

  “That's impressive...” Brett paused, staring at Mickey as he noticed the stiffness in his leg as he stepped a little closer, then he saw the unmistakeable look of annoyance in his eyes.

  “I didn't mean someone like you couldn't survive all this shit we're going through,” Brett said, and he laughed, “I just meant, it's surprising you got here, everyone else who made it this far had nothing to slow them down, if you know what I mean.”

  “Like what?” Mickey demanded, “What could slow them down? A flat tire?”

  “No, I meant -”